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The Deadheads had never had much luck with spaceships. Their first mission had ended in a catastrophic engine failure, leaving them adrift in deep space for weeks. This time, their craft was hardly more reassuring. A hodgepodge of outdated technology and shoddy repairs made it more of a floating death trap than a reliable cruiser. As they began their descent toward the strange planet, the hull creaked and rattled, sending a wave of dread through the crew.

"Hold on," Matt's voice crackled over the intercom, without much conviction, as if he himself doubted they would make it out alive. Outside, a thick, grayish atmosphere swirled ominously, while the planet's gravity became far stronger than anticipated.

“Fuck, we’re gonna burn at the entrance!” M yelled, his hands flailing on the console as sparks flew from the control panel. The ship’s sensors were completely jammed, and the navigation system flickered intermittently, like a dying light. Below, the planet’s surface was a tangle of lava rivers and jagged rock formations, the kind of place no sane person would ever land. But the Deadheads had never pretended to be. They lived in a state of constant emergency.

As the descent intensified, the alarms blared. On the bridge, the screens lit up with red warnings and flashing messages: "SYSTEM ERROR," "UNSTABLE TRAJECTORY," "SUIVITY SYSTEM COMPROMISED." The lines of code scrolled by too quickly to be read, while a mechanical voice repeated relentlessly: "Imminent impact. Structural integrity at twenty percent."

The once pristine shell of the vessel began to disintegrate, with shards of metal breaking away and disappearing into the atmosphere.

With a final, piercing screech, the ship crashed onto the planet's surface, sending up a cloud of dust and debris. The crew was violently thrown from their seats, stunned but barely alive. They struggled to their feet amidst the wreckage, the ship reduced to a charred shell around them.

"Well," M said, wiping the dirt off his suit with a grimace, "at least the air is breathable." Matt scanned the hostile expanse stretching before them and smiled slightly. "Perfect. Let's hope we have better luck with the planet than with our ships."

With that, the Deadheads gathered their equipment and headed into the unknown, while the remains of their ship slowly sank into the unstable soil of the planet.

Tragic Tiger's Sad Meltdown is Heavenly aka Tiger Hutchence-Geldof's debut album of sorts, cut from cassette tapes of rehearsals mixed with snippets of field recordings. Recorded with contributions from Nicholas Allbrook (Pond), Scarlett Stevens (San Cisco), India Rose & Jacob Diamond.

"I made this cassette in the living room of our house in Fremantle, a seaside town in Western Australia. I had always been shy to sing with others but moving across the world and my ex-boyfriend Nick had given me some bravery. Something about living closer to nature meant I felt creative and open hearted. It was as if the wide open landscape of Australia had finally given my heart enough space to open properly. The recordings are actually just recordings of our rehearsals, I never feel set in how song is meant to be so they usually just come out of me in the moment. My friends playing along with me are luckily all very empathic players and we found a way to play with one another without any structure or plan. It was really moving to create with so much freedom and understanding. Most of the songs are about my sister Peaches who I lost as a teenager so singing them aloud felt very potent but my band always made me feel held"

The second volume in Death Is Not The End's survey of a form of Brazilian country music known as música caipira ("hillbilly music") - a stripped-back forerunner to música sertaneja, the Brazilian equivalent to US country & western which in it's contemporary form has come to dominate the domestic music industry in recent decades. This collection covers some of the earliest recordings made by the pioneering folklorist Cornélio Pires at the end of the 1920s, through to records from the 30s, 40s & 50s and the beginning of the 60s.

Somewhat rooted in Portuguese troubadour folk traditions, música caipira is typically performed by a duo singing in parallel thirds and sixths, drawing upon a Portuguese-Brazilian style known as moda de viola - with the viola being the viola caipira, a Brazilian-style ten-string guitar that is the core instrument of the music. Born out of the "outback"-style region in north-eastern Brazil, these songs tell stories of pain, love, loss & betrayal - often backed by homemade guitars using invented tunings. Away from the polished pop country & western-stylings of the sertaneja, these recordings could be viewed as the Brazilian equivalent to the roots music of the American dustbowl or Appalachia.

Have you noticed that Western music emphasises linear time? Melody is a continuous sequence of sounds. Harmony and rhythm follow a progression from beginning through climax and resolution. Is it possible to have an art that is based on non-linear time? Can we even experience non-linear time? Efrain Rozas' Still posed this question in the form of an installation made for quadraphonic sound, architecture and light. A document of his installation at Queenslab--part of a one-month residency with The Kitchen, New York City in April 2021--the album is a live, stereo room recording of Still as it was presented over three one-hour viewings. Efrain Rozas is a Peruvian interdisciplinary artist working with Latin American music, robotics, sculpture and installation. He holds a PhD in composition and ethnomusicology from New York University, and is a 2023-2024 Jerome Hill Artist Fellow. He has published Fusi?n: a soundtrack for Peru, a publication, video documentary, and music compilation; and has released several albums internationally via Names You can Trust, the Ethnomusicology Institute of Peru, the Embassy of Spain and Buh Records.

"Dialogues and Shadows" by Goncalo Almeida & Pierre Bastien invites you on a transcendental musical journey, rising above mere notes and timbres. With mechanical instruments and rich harmonics, their music sparks a conversation where listeners may actively participate. Surprises unfold as melodic phrases emerge from diverse sources, including Pierre Bastien's pocket trumpet and Goncalo Almeida's double bass, along with custom-made instruments.

Don Cherry, armed with a voracious musical appetite and boundless imagination, first made a name for himself - though not always fully understood - alongside Ornette Coleman, playing trumpet or cornet. In Los Angeles and then New York, he stood at the heart of a revolutionary approach to improvisation based on melody rather than harmony, later baptized "Free Jazz," the final structural development of American jazz. Over time, he became a champion of improbable fusions - gradually integrating into his style a whole array of "exotic" instruments, and more importantly, the cultures from which they originated. Among them: India, Brazil, Africa, Indonesia, and even China. The time had come for the emergence of "world music": in hindsight, a patchwork rich in imagination and seduction, but once the novelty wore off, often lacking in substance.

In Don Cherry's case, however, the commitment ran deep - tied to his personal engagement with a global vision of art and the human condition. Ustad Ahmed Latif Khan, from the Delhi gharana (a musical lineage), was part of a new generation of accompanists - percussionists, sarangi players, flutists, etc. - who had extended both the technical and conceptual possibilities of their predecessors to gain recognition as soloists and soon to venture onto the international scene. Among them, Latif stood out for his taste for irregular, highly syncopated rhythmic patterns - rich in variety and originality. Don and Latif had never met before the recording session, but the two quickly recognised one another as kindred spirits - calm, focused... and full of laughter. Don clearly knew what he wanted to create, and nothing seemed to pose a challenge for Latif, who grasped the American's intentions immediately, warmed up his fingers at astonishing speed, and with his perfect pitch, naturally took on the role of tuning Don's diverse instrument collection to match whatever was found in the studio - from concert piano and Hammond B3 organ to chromatic orchestral timpani.

Rich musical history of Yugoslavia reveals a long-lasting love for the music of Latin America.
Entwined in Afro-Cuban rhythms, ballrooms were shakin', swayin' and swingin', gathering musicians who were heavily into jazz bands and orchestras, most notably in Ljubljana, Zagreb, and Belgrade. Jazz could be heard on the streets of Split way back in 1919 when dancing became a symbol of freedom. Radio was the most loved household item, newest sheet music was in demand and collecting records was hip like today. In the aftermath of Second World War, jazz went underground but little by little, things changed and Ella, Satchmo, Dizzy and Miles came to visit, among others. Music festivals shaped the music for entertainment and variety of popular styles showed influences from all over the world. In the early sixties, one particular rhythm crashed on the coast of the Adriatic Sea: the rhythm of bossa nova!

In the whirlwind of various musical styles, Latin American music still played important part of the scene in the early sixties Yugoslavia. Beguine, tango, rhumba, samba, calypso, mambo and cha-cha-cha all found their place on the festivals inspired by famous Sanremo, festival of Italian popular song that largely shaped the musical taste of Europe. It was the era of instrumental rock, R & B and rock'n'roll - sounds of "imperialist America" now played freely on imported and hand-made electric guitars. While dancing halls had been turning into concert venues, bossa nova has come! Eydie Gorme with Blame It on the Bossa Nova and Paul Anka with Eso Besso (That Kiss!) tried to make us learn some new dance moves but it was Joao Gilberto's gentle singing and his new way of playing samba songs, along with Tom Jobim's modern dissonant harmonies and poetry of Vinicius de Moraes that created the magic. When American alto saxophonist and flautist Bud Shank visited Zagreb and Ljubljana in 1963 (with Boško Petrović in his quintet) "it was the first time we heard bossa nova!" remembers Stjepan Braco Fučkar. Jugoton, the biggest record company in Yugoslavia, released 4-track EP Bossa Nova by Bogdan Dimitrijević and his ensemble that same year! While not being fully accepted or understood completely, the archives of Jugoton reveal to us various interpretations of this new trend from their vast catalogue.

Michael Mayer returns to the Speicher series for his first release since last year’s brain-bursting The Floor Is Lava album. And yes, the floor is indeed lava when Mayer is on peak form, as he is here, with three tracks that oscillate, effortlessly, between the twin poles of Mayer’s music: dancefloor detonation and heart-wrenching beauty. To be fair, there’s more of the former here, but there’s beauty in generous discipline, too, and the unrelenting “Cry Me A Raver” feels, somehow, like it brings together decades of Kompakt pleasure in six giddy minutes – disco-fied arpeggios, glistening and hand-burnished textures, abstruse patterns that fall in and out of step. “Don’t Sync With My Tag” stomps with destructive glee, a beat as undeniable as the shaker cross-rhythms are silkily sexy. There’s always been something practical, functional, and utilitarian about Speicher, but it doesn’t get more everyday DJ-life than this: Mayer tells us the title is “a super-annoying message that pops up every time you open Rekordbox. Nobody knows what it means. It’s a DJ mystery.” But who needs answers, anyway? By the time you’ve started to get close to solving the riddle, Mayer’s taken you to Detroit via Cologne with “It Isn’t What It Isn’t”, a little doffing of the cap to Rhythim Is Rhythim. “You’re May, I’m Mayer, I used to tell him,” Michael chuckles. This made one of our cats almost jump out of its skin, with its stealthy slyness – creeping, amorphous electro noise; percussives that just won’t quit; the whole thing flooded with twitchy strip-light energy and silver-machine flare- outs.

Speicher is as Speicher does, and this is a damn good one. Make Mine Mayer!

Michael Mayer returns to the Speicher series for his first release since last year’s brain-bursting The Floor Is Lava album. And yes, the floor is indeed lava when Mayer is on peak form, as he is here, with three tracks that oscillate, effortlessly, between the twin poles of Mayer’s music: dancefloor detonation and heart-wrenching beauty. To be fair, there’s more of the former here, but there’s beauty in generous discipline, too, and the unrelenting “Cry Me A Raver” feels, somehow, like it brings together decades of Kompakt pleasure in six giddy minutes – disco-fied arpeggios, glistening and hand-burnished textures, abstruse patterns that fall in and out of step. “Don’t Sync With My Tag” stomps with destructive glee, a beat as undeniable as the shaker cross-rhythms are silkily sexy. There’s always been something practical, functional, and utilitarian about Speicher, but it doesn’t get more everyday DJ-life than this: Mayer tells us the title is “a super-annoying message that pops up every time you open Rekordbox. Nobody knows what it means. It’s a DJ mystery.” But who needs answers, anyway? By the time you’ve started to get close to solving the riddle, Mayer’s taken you to Detroit via Cologne with “It Isn’t What It Isn’t”, a little doffing of the cap to Rhythim Is Rhythim. “You’re May, I’m Mayer, I used to tell him,” Michael chuckles. This made one of our cats almost jump out of its skin, with its stealthy slyness – creeping, amorphous electro noise; percussives that just won’t quit; the whole thing flooded with twitchy strip-light energy and silver-machine flare- outs.

Speicher is as Speicher does, and this is a damn good one. Make Mine Mayer!

2026 Repress

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Known for their exhilarating live-to-record albums such as last year's critically acclaimed Wood Blues and Giant Beauty, سماع Sama'a (Audition) is the first of two releases that will surface after أحمدAhmed’s first studio recording sessions at North London’s The Fish Factory in early 2025.

Since 2014, Ahmed أحمد have excavated and re-imagined the music of Ahmed Abdul-Malik, in an ever ongoing search for future music. Over a decade on, the group were given the opportunity to set up in the studio for the first time and, with the aid of meticulous engineer Benedic Lamdin, سماع Sama'a (Audition) is the quartet's most detailed work to date.

Fastidious fans may recognise the album's tracklisting as that of Ahmed Abdul-Malik’s Jazz Sahara. After his success collaborating with the pianists Thelonious Monk and Randy Weston, Jazz Sahara was the first record Abdul-Malik made as a leader and was released in 1958. It used the flame of late Fifties jazz to light the wick of North African folk music and acted as a reminder of the Arabic origins of jazz, creating a distinct, unique sound that was far beyond its time. In Malik’s Jazz Sahara, there is no piano. The ongoing work of each member of [Ahmed] then is to think differently, to wonder how the music will work and to take a risk on trying it out - an extraordinarily compelling feat of imagination. Using group improvisation strategies and recording in single takes, سماع [Sama'a] (Audition) tackled the full suite of Jazz Sahara in just one session, with ‘Ya Annas [Oh, People’] and ‘Isma'a [Listen’] being previously unrecorded. 'Farah 'Alaiyna’, also released on 2019’s Super Majnoon, sounds unrecognisable - the slow, heady stomp and repeated phrasing of 2019’s embryonic [Ahmed] having been blast furnaced and sped up four-fold. The result is four kaleidoscopic, relative miniatures that move, unfold and re-imagine at a very different scale and proportion than [Ahmed]’s previous records. It’s a dizzying, euphoric music and an extraordinary record of a group moving through space-time like no other.




[b] Isma'a [Listen]
[c] El Haris [Anxious]
[d] Farah 'Alaiyna [Joy Upon Us]


[b] b1 Isma'a [Listen]
[c] c1 El Haris [Anxious]
[d] d1 Farah 'Alaiyna [Joy Upon Us]


[b] b1 | Isma'a [Listen]
[c] c1 | El Haris [Anxious]
[d] d1 | Farah 'Alaiyna [Joy Upon Us]

Gluecifer, the undisputed "Kings Of Rock" from Norway disbanded in 2005 after a farewell tour and in November 2017, the band announced their reunion for 2018. After 7 years it was time to record a new album and it will be the first one since 2004. The fans are waiting with impatience and the band fulfill all their dreams with an apocalyptic piece of Rock music.

Gluecifer, the undisputed "Kings Of Rock" from Norway disbanded in 2005 after a farewell tour and in November 2017, the band announced their reunion for 2018. After 7 years it was time to record a new album and it will be the first one since 2004. The fans are waiting with impatience and the band fulfill all their dreams with an apocalyptic piece of Rock music.

Confessor's genre defying album Unraveled reissued in January Confessor is a progressive doom metal band from North Carolina that made its mark on the underground metal scene in the late 80's by combining some of the genre's essential elements in a way that no band had attempted before. Once dubbed "the world's most obstinately technical metal band", Confessor's technically complex interpretation of traditional doom gained them a reputation also within the progressive metal circles. Their grand sophomore album Unraveled from 2005 will finally be reissued after two decades on January 16th via Svart Records. Following the release of their 1991 debut album, Condemned, Confessor disbanded in 1994 while they were already planning a second album. Sadly, in 2002 the band's guitarist Ivan Colon passed away, and in tribute to Ivan, the band re-formed in order to play a benefit show for him. Things went so well, that they decided to continue after almost a decade apart. Their second full length Unraveled followed in 2005; an immensely satisfying and unique blend of majestic Doom Metal raised to the next level.

Confessor's genre defying album Unraveled reissued in January Confessor is a progressive doom metal band from North Carolina that made its mark on the underground metal scene in the late 80's by combining some of the genre's essential elements in a way that no band had attempted before. Once dubbed "the world's most obstinately technical metal band", Confessor's technically complex interpretation of traditional doom gained them a reputation also within the progressive metal circles. Their grand sophomore album Unraveled from 2005 will finally be reissued after two decades on January 16th via Svart Records. Following the release of their 1991 debut album, Condemned, Confessor disbanded in 1994 while they were already planning a second album. Sadly, in 2002 the band's guitarist Ivan Colon passed away, and in tribute to Ivan, the band re-formed in order to play a benefit show for him. Things went so well, that they decided to continue after almost a decade apart. Their second full length Unraveled followed in 2005; an immensely satisfying and unique blend of majestic Doom Metal raised to the next level.

A true gem of French animated cinema, Sylvain Chomet's Les Triplettes de Belleville (2003) left a lasting impression with its quirky universe, tender humor, and unforgettable musical score.


Composed by Benoît Charest, this cult soundtrack blends retro swing, gypsy jazz, ramshackle brass bands, and cycling rhythms to create a unique atmosphere that is both nostalgic and fiercely modern.



This vinyl edition finally celebrates the soundscape of Belleville as it deserves to be celebrated: unusual percussion instruments made from bicycle parts, mischievous orchestrations, and the playful voice of the cult song “Belleville Rendez-vous,” performed by M - Matthieu Chedid in its French version.



Carefully remastered for analog format, the record captures all the warmth and vitality of this timeless music, a vibrant tribute to the creativity and audacity of the film.


A must-have for lovers of cinema, jazz, and beautiful vinyl editions.

Leave it to Langhorne Slim - a pioneer of raw, rule-breaking Americana for more than two decades - to reach far beyond the genre he helped inspire.

The Dreamin' Kind finds the Nashville transplant strapping on an electric guitar and embracing his longtime love of larger-than-life rock & roll. With it's chugging power chords, 1970s-sized riffs, and richly layered arrangements, The Dreamin' Kind is fueled not only by sheer amplification, but by the soul-baring songwriting that's become Slim's calling card, too. Tucked between those anthems are acoustic-driven songs that skirt the outer orbits of folk music, from the bare-boned heartbreak of ''Stealin' Time'' to the organic, orchestral sweep of ''Dance On Thru.'' The result is the more explorative and expansive album of Slim's career: a record made for rock clubs, campfires, and garages alike, produced by Greta Van Fleet's Sam Kiszka, and anchored by a lifelong desire to break down new walls.

''It felt like I was blowing some old shit up so I could plant some new flowers,'' Slim says of the creation process. ''I love acoustic music. I love folk music. But those aren't my only loves. Rock & roll has always tickled the same place in my soul as great singer-songwriter music, and I wanted to explore those influences. Raw songs that make you feel something: that's the stuff I'm after.''

'Yamame' (the Japanese name for a kind of freshwater salmon) was recorded in 1962 and was Miyazawa’s first album, but the sharpness and avant-garde modernity of the music creates a completely timeless quality. Miyazawa is one of a group of musicians who laid the foundation of the Japanese jazz scene. He wanted to express his cultural heritage by doing something he felt “only someone Japanese” could do, and so he dedicated himself to a pursuit of “Japanese jazz”. Incidentally, the album was originally simply titled “Akira Miyazawa”, but perhaps due to the impression the cover art and the track titles made, it was reissued in 1977 as “Yamame”, and has gone by that title ever since. This is an historic masterpiece of Japanese jazz.

Tenor Saxophone – Akira Miyazawa
Alto Saxophone, Flute – Sadao Watanabe (tracks: B1 to B3)
Baritone Saxophone, Clarinet – Tadayuki Harada (tracks: B1 to B3)
Trombone – Mitsuhiko Matsumoto (tracks: B1 to B3), Yasuhiro Tomoto (tracks: B1 to B3)
Trumpet – Akira Nakano (tracks: B1 to B3)
Piano – Masahiko Sato
Bass – Masanaga Harada
Bass Trombone – Takeshi Aoki (tracks: B1 to B3)
Drums – Kanji Harada, Takeshi Inomata
Supervised By – Jiro Kubota

Full of joy, they ran to meet him.
Then threw one of the shirts over each of them,
and when the shirts touched their bodies they were transformed into swans,
and flew away over the woods.
The record is comprised of a series of improvised recordings made over the course of an evening in Autumn ’23, captured at the Jabu home studio, south Bristol while Teresa was staying in town for a show. Everything was recorded into the desk in a single take and left as it was, no editing or overdubs, instruments were swapped around and effects units left buzzing ground hum scattered over the floor.
Teresa and Guest (Jasmine of Jabu) provided the vocals, taking words from anything at hand - poetry books, an old copy of the Whole Earth Catalog - their voices winding together, echoing out each other’s melodies. This approach is mirrored by the instrumentals, anchored by something at times - a bassline, one of Birthmark’s synth drones or a fizzing chord but always on the edge of collapsing in on itself or floating away. The tracks become more soporific as the record goes on (and as the night got later), ending on a refrain of ‘say you think its true’ as the instrumental finally dissolves the pedals get dialled up to 11 and Birthmark’s drones turn into distant lasers in a last swan song of feedback.
Recorded Sep 2023 in Bristol, BS3, by:
Teresa Winter (vocals, fx)
Guest (vocals, guitar, fx)
Birthmark (synth, fx)
A.Childs (samples, bass, guitar)

"Louis Armstrong and Fats Waller only worked together twice, briefly in 1925 in Erskine Tate's band and four years later in the New York revue Connie's Hot Chocolates. But Waller made an indelible enough impression for Satchmo to record the tribute album Satch Plays Fats in 1955, when such ideas were new. The mid-'50s was a fertile time for Armstrong, and this makes for a stellar package." - ****1/2 Cub Koda, All Music Guide






[f] 6 Honeysuckle Rose [alternate Take]





[l] 12 Ain't Misbehavin' [alternate Take]

XL Recordings is proud to mark the 10th anniversary of Archy Marshall’s (aka King Krule) A New Place 2 Drown with the release of a newly remastered instrumental edition.
Originally released on 10 December 2015, A New Place 2 Drown remains a singular entry in the Archy Marshall catalogue. Known to many for his work as King Krule, Marshall released A New Place 2 Drown under his own name, highlighting a different facet of his creative identity. An atmospheric blend of submerged beats, woozy textures, and diaristic storytelling, the project earned widespread acclaim upon release, including Pitchfork’s Best New Music.
Developed in parallel with a visual world shaped with his brother and longtime collaborator Jack Marshall, the quietly influential project stands as a multidisciplinary love letter to their home of South London, originally released alongside a Will Robson-Scott–directed short film and a book of artworks, photography, and poetry by the Marshall brothers.
The 2025 instrumental edition offers a newly illuminated perspective on the record’s sonic core, drawing fresh attention to the production craft that underpins the project. By stripping the songs back to their foundations, the release highlights the intricate textures, rhythmic detail, and atmospheric depth that have helped A New Place 2 Drown grow into a cult favourite over the past decade.
“A New Place 2 Drown evokes a septic world filled with flickering halogen bulbs, sticky synth keys, and corroded outputs. Marshall has made tremendous strides as a producer, gorgeously reproducing the gloom and loneliness of early '90s hip-hop and finding a way to integrate it into his own style.” - PITCHFORK