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Der US-amerikanische Musiker Anjimile Chithambo (ann-JIM-uh-lee) hat sich in den vergangenen Jahren als eigenständige Stimme etabliert. In der Indie-Szene Bostons bekannt geworden, entwickelte er einen persönlichen, ehrlichen Stil, der Spiritualität, Identität und Nähe miteinander verbindet. Mit dem gefeierten Album "Giver Taker" (2020) setzte sich Anjimile mit Zugehörigkeit und Selbstverständnis auseinander. "The King" (2023), sein erstes Album auf 4AD, thematisierte Selbstbestimmung und seine Erfahrungen als schwarze Trans-Person in einer Zeit tiefgreifender persönlicher und gesellschaftlicher Veränderungen. Diese Themen führt Anjimile auf seinem neuen Album "You"re Free to Go" weiter. Im Mittelpunkt steht die Frage, was geschieht, wenn man Kontrolle loslässt und neue Formen von Bindung und Freiheit zulässt. Das Album verarbeitet Trennungen, neue Beziehungen, Verluste und Neuanfänge und beschreibt einen Weg zurück zu Vertrauen ins eigene Leben. Der Titel spiegelt eine offenere Sicht auf Beziehungen wider, geprägt durch Erfahrungen mit non-monogamen Modellen. Produziert von Brad Cook (Bon Iver, Waxahatchee) und unterstützt von Gästen wie Sam Beam (Iron & Wine), entfaltet sich "You"re Free to Go" organisch und intim. Musikalisch verbindet Anjimile Folk mit Alternative-Pop-Einflüssen der späten 1990er-Jahre. Auch stimmlich zeigt er sich weiterentwickelt - eine bewusste Veränderung, die der emotionalen Tiefe des Albums zusätzliche Kraft verleiht.

A brash, unapologetic blend of electronic, dance, punk, industrial, and pop music, No Lube So Rude exists at the intersection of the personal and the political, where the body serves not only as a sexual and spiritual vessel, but also as the front line in a battle for basic human rights. Peaches’ lyrics are bawdy and explicit here, laced with biting sarcasm and clever wordplay, but they’re also surprisingly vulnerable, offering up a candid look in the mirror from a post-menopausal queer icon reckoning with a society that’s come to expect silence, if not outright erasure. The result is a deliberately provocative exploration of identity, sexuality, and bodily autonomy from a trailblazer, a singular work of emotional and sonic alchemy that balances the poetic and the profane in equal measure as it transforms all the friction and frustration of modern life into joy and transcendence.

Critically acclaimed Death Metal force TEMPLE OF VOID return with their new album, The Crawl. The caveman brawn of previous albums, namely Summoning the Slayer (2022), remains, but there’s a wider dynamic on the group’s fifth full-length album at play. Now a quartet—featuring guitarist Alex Awn, drummer Jason Pearce, vocalist/guitarist Mike Erdody, and bassist Justin Malek—the Michiganders aren’t shying away from their non-metal influences, seeking greater integration of grunge and post-punk with their brutish signature. Singles “The Crawl” and “Soulburn” demonstrate the proficiency of TEMPLE OF VOID's death-cloaked, spearheaded attack. From the high intensity of opener “Poison Icon” to the granite wall of “The Twin Stranger,” The Crawl isn’t just TEMPLE OF VOID evolved, it’s a harbinger of death metal to come. “The biggest shift for me on this record was not feeling like we had to fly the ‘death-doom banner’ as part of our identity,” says Alex Awn. “Death-doom, as a genre, gave us something to anchor our sound around when we started. It was always a reference and touchstone. At the same time, we always wanted to make sure we had our own spin on it. We’ve always been adding to the conversation, adding to the genre, giving our point of view. A huge part of what makes a Temple of Void record is the non-death-doom influences that make up our DNA. And on album five we never once asked ourselves, ‘Do we have enough death metal? Do we have enough doom metal?’ We simply wrote a heavy-ass record—let the chips fall where they may.” For lyrics, Erdody built on the psychology and fear themes of Summoning the Slayer. The overarching theme of The Crawl is, put rather simply, an “allegory about life, choices, and consequences.” It’s a qualitative view on the horrors of the human condition and the contemplation of our monstrous capabilities. “The Twin Stranger,” for example, is about being stalked by a person’s doppelganger; “Godless Cynic” draws on a short story by sci-fi author Harlan Ellison; and “Poison Icon” tackles the crushing effects of mankind’s intrinsic nature to deceive and control.

2026 Repress


Another Thought was the first collection of Arthur Russell’s music to be released after his death in 1992. Released in 1993 on Point Music it marked the beginning of nearly 30 years of work to let the world hear the enormous archive of unreleased recordings Arthur left behind. Be With revisits this first compilation for a new gatefold double vinyl version and a triple-fold digipak CD reissue.

Both versions of Be With’s 2021 reissue of Another Thought have been mastered by Simon Francis and the vinyl cut by Pete Norman. The original artwork has been restored and tweaked at Be With HQ for the gatefold sleeve and the triple-fold digipak, with the essential help of Janette Beckman. Each version comes with an insert reproducing the liner notes and lyrics from the original CD release.

Together with Calling Out Of Context, Soul Jazz’s World of Arthur Russell, and much of the ongoing work of Audika, Another Thought is absolutely essential for even the most casual Arthur Russell collection. In fact we’d argue it’s essential for any fan of non-obvious pop music. This is the only place where you can hear some of Arthur’s most recognisable tunes and it’s an album that absolutely deserves to be kept in press.


We’ll assume that by now you’re all at least a little familiar with the story of Arthur Russell, the farm boy from Iowa who moved to 1970s New York. Arthur Russell the genuine musical genius who died just 40 years old, leaving behind a wealth of music that dwarfed the few 12"s and LPs that were released during his short life.

Although Arthur had been working on an album for Rough Trade during his last years, with the label no-longer operating it was Point Music (Philip Glass and Michael Riesman’s label set up together with Philips) who stepped in to help Arthur’s partner Tom Lee start working out exactly what Arthur had left behind.

Tom suggested that Arthur’s friend Mikel Rouse was the right person to make the first catalogue. Working in Tom and Arthur’s apartment he had only two weeks to go through what turned out to be around 800 tapes.

As Tom explained “at the end of each day he would generally wait for me to come home and I would, to the best of my knowledge, name and identify pieces in question from that day’s work. As he worked Mikel compiled about a dozen cassettes that he thought would present the most finished sounding songs for Don/Point to use. As Don listened he would then suggest and ask me and thus we collaborated on the choices.”

Don is Don Christensen, Another Thought’s producer. With a final selection of songs from recordings made between 1982 and 1990, including sessions with some of Arthur’s regular collaborators Peter Zummo, Steven Hall, Mustafa Ahmed, Elodie Lauten, Julius Eastman, Jennifer Warnes and Joyce Bowden, it was then Don’s job to turn these into a finished album.

Another Thought is a little different from the compilations of Arthur’s music that came out since. In our conversations with Steve Knutson (who founded Audika Records and who manages Arthur’s estate together with Tom), he explained that “more than any project released by Arthur during his lifetime or posthumously by Audika, ‘Another Thought’ is the most worked over. The material was significantly edited and rearranged from the original source tapes”.

If the aim was to release a comprehensive exploration of every facet of Arthur’s music, from the most avant-garde of his avant-garde compositions through to the most disco-not-disco of his disco-not-disco tunes then the project was a spectacular failure. But as a coherent album of non-obvious pop music Another Thought is wonderful.

Starting with the sparse voice-and-cello of the title track, A Little Lost adds some guitar along with the sneaking suspicion that we’re listening to something nowhere near as simple as it first sounds. By the time we get to This Is How We Walk On The Moon - it could be the moment you notice the congas, or the percussion that’s been building behind them, or maybe it’s that blast of trumpet and trombone - we realise we’ve gone from splashing around to being completely submerged in the musical world of Arthur Russell.

From here the album heads off on its journey around the sounds of the left-field contemporary classical music of the time, re-directed towards pop ears, with minor detours through the swirling woozy disco of the half-remembered night before on In The Light Of The Miracle and My Tiger, My Timing. Whether it’s just Arthur, his cello and some bleeps on Just A Blip, or whether he has some vocal help as he does on the bounding Keeping Up, this is difficult music made so, so easy. And through it all is Arthur’s voice and cello. Sometimes drowned in distortion and sometimes clear as a bell, but always there somewhere.

A Sudden Chill finally returns us to the calmer waters we started in and this last track closes the album with a melancholy that’s not surprising given how soon after Arthur’s death the album was put together.

Whilst Another Thought holds together with the consistency of a proper album, there’s still no getting away from the fact that this was put together from audio recorded in different ways, in different places, with different people at different times. Those with keen ears will hear traces of tape hiss, the occasional blown-out note and some digital fuzz, all fingerprints of those original recordings as well as of the 1990s digital equipment that was used to piece Another Thought together.

Add to this Arthur’s obvious pleasure in making music from the sort of sounds that can make microphones, speakers and ears uncomfortable, it’s no surprise that Another Thought isn’t glossy and pristine. Don Christensen’s productions have been careful to not scrub up those original recordings so much that they lose their original vibe, understandable given that Arthur wasn’t around as a guide. We’ve applied a similarly light touch with the mastering for these Be With versions, just working to make sure they sound like they should on both the vinyl and the CD.

Despite the Discogs rumours, Another Thought was never originally released as an LP. So when it came to the sleeve for this Be With vinyl version we took the original CD artwork as a starting point to come up with something that looks like it could have been in the record racks back in 1993.

We have to thank Janette Beckman for helping us reproduce her iconic photograph of Arthur in his newspaper boat hat. One of many photographs she took of Arthur, Janette shot this in her New York studio back in 1986 for a short article in the January ’87 issue of The Face Magazine. Those with eagle-eyes will notice we’ve used an ever-so-slightly different shot from the one that appeared in The Face and then again on the original cover of Another Thought. The original has long since been lost so we’ve worked with what is left in Janette’s archives. And we also have to thank Tom Lee for giving us permission to reproduce his liner notes from the original CD booklet, together with Arthur’s lyrics.

Malena Zavala is an Argentinian-born, London-based artist, producer, and filmmaker, known for crafting ethereal, genre-blending music that navigates the space between her Latin heritage and her British upbringing. With the forthcoming album If This Life Could Start Again set for release on 30 January 2026 on Paraná Records, Zavala presents her most intimate, cohesive, and accomplished work to date, marking a significant evolution in her artistic journey.
With her new album, Malena creates an atmospheric dream pop world, weaving singer-songwriter intimacy with synth pop, Argentine folk, indiepop, rock and experimental music, threaded together by her blissful vocals and dreamy guitar work. Gorgeously warm and vivid, If This Life Could Start Again charts the journey from pain to acceptance, mapping out the non-linear nature of healing through a sonic landscape. Each song embodies a distinct emotion within that journey, from grief and chaos to feeling lost, seeking refuge, finding confidence, and finally acceptance and letting go. Drawing on her Argentinian roots, Malena uses the Andes mountains as both a visual and thematic anchor – the difficult climb towards higher ground becomes a metaphor for healing, whilst being lost at rock bottom reflects the darkest moments of the journey. 
Completely composed and performed by Malena herself, the album was recorded in Girona’s L’Empordà countryside in Spain with producer Luke Smith. As a professional producer and audio engineer, this was Malena’s first time relinquishing production control – an intimate creative shift that allowed their shared vision to shape the album’s rich, enveloping sound. 
However, Zavala’s career to date has been a testament to self-sufficient artistry. Her critically acclaimed debut, Aliso (2018), was written, recorded, and produced alone in her parents’ garage, which honed her dreamy bedroom pop sound. The album, praised by The Guardian for its “gently warped and beguilingly melancholy guitar pop,” ****, immediately catapulted her from DIY beginnings to prestigious stages, supporting acts like Lord Huron at London’s Roundhouse and Men I Trust at Village Underground and subsequently continuing on their UK/EU tours. Later with standout performances at Latitude, Green Man, and All Points East. Her consistent radio support from key influencers including BBC Radio 6 Music, BBC Radio 1's Huw Stephens, and Steve Lamacq has solidified her presence on the airwaves.
Her second album, La Yarará (2020), saw Zavala delve deeper into her roots, exploring Latin traditions like Cumbia and Bolero. This exploration of identity continues powerfully on the new album, but with a newfound lyrical depth and sonic confidence. The new album, If This Life Could Start Again, is a raw and transformative eight-track journey that maps the emotional landscape of healing. Written after a period of personal upheaval, the album traverses themes of grief, hereditary trauma, and self-discovery. The record’s narrative is structured like a mountain ascent. A challenging climb through varied emotional terrain, posing the central question: “Will you join the journey?” Sonically, this journey mirrors the non-linear path to acceptance, evolving from acoustic folk and synth-pop to funk-infused rhythms and rock anthems.
As a formidable live performer, Zavala has built a robust touring profile across the UK and Europe. She will embark on an extensive tour in February and March 2026 to support the album, with dates spanning major cities from London and Glasgow to Berlin, Paris, and Barcelona.
With If This Life Could Start Again, Malena Zavala fully realizes her artistic vision as a self-taught producer to an autonomous artist commanding her career through Paraná Records whilst reflecting the vast landscapes of her heritage and affirming her place as a compelling and evolving voice in contemporary music.

A year and a half has passed since Slovak-Hungarian artist Adela Mede self-released her debut album ‘Szabadság’. Its liner notes described it as “a navigation”, a search through “the personal, familial, cultural, folkloric and geographic of her past and present.” Her second album, ‘Ne Lépj a Virágra’ no longer searches; here, she puts down roots and delves deeper into the earthy reality of her home, Central Europe. Mede sings in three languages with newfound conviction and grace – this is an album of profound faith and confidence in the potential of this fertile soil.

Composed and recorded during the last 18 months in Bratislava, Slovakia – a city where three countries meet, where the East and the West collide – 'Ne Lépj a Virárga' translates to “don't step on the flower”. Its themes – budding potential, recognizing the beauty in the ordinary, solidarity, turning despair into hope – emerged through Mede's wholehearted involvement with her community, teaching singing to both children and adults, and various grassroots volunteering initiatives. It features collaborations with local artists, Mede's singing students, as well as fellow Eastern European contemporary artists Martyna Basta and Wojciech Rusin.

Adela Mede embellishes carefully crafted songs with minimalist and folklore influences, but also embraces more experimental approaches. The result is a collection of quite varied yet consistent pieces which highlight Mede's proficiency as a singer, arranger, producer and improviser. It is a grounded, confident next step for the Bratislava-based artist. Whether her vocals are naked, heavily processed, warped and reversed, or looped and layered; whether the production is sparse and minimalist or overwhelming and swampy; none of that changes the fact that the gentle tentativeness of her debut is gone. This is “Central European music”, at its most striking and meaningful: patient, determined, embracing both complexity and possibility.

On »Empty Room,« David Granström works with slow transformations, cyclical and isometric patterns as well as just intonation as a way to create harmonic stability, allowing his long-form pieces to develop their own unique temporal and spatial qualities. A prolific figure in Stockholm’s experimental drone scene and a collaborator of Hallow Ground label mates Maria W Horn and Mats Erlandsson, the Swedish composer navigates through moments of quietude and crushing volume on these five tracks. Sonically and atmospherically, the pieces on »Empty Room« simultaneously call to mind Fennesz’s most meditative work or the physical experience of seeing Sunn O))) live, blending guitar recordings and synthesised sounds with forceful effects similar to those of Mario Díaz de Leon’s Oneirogen project while still being as moving and delicate as Alessandro Cortini’s solo work. The album is marked by melodies and harmonies that are the product of a peculiar working process that turned the composer into an intent listener collaborating with, rather than simply using technology.

Having been invited by the self-organising artist group The Non Existent Center for a residency to Ställbergs Gruva, a defunct iron ore mine in Sweden’s Bergslagen region, Granström took his guitar as a starting point for his compositional work that heavily relies on real-time sound synthesis. »I seldomly use the instrument as a sound source in the final compositions and rather transcribe and orchestrate the harmonic structures using sound synthesis,« he explains. »On this album however, I chose to include the actual recordings of the guitar in order to extend the spectra between non-referential synthetic sounds and embodied referential sounds.« Working with precise tunings in order to blend the timbre of the synthesis with the harmonic structures of the composition, he created composite sound objects in which the harmonic elements blend into each other.

Through the re-amplification of synthetic musical materials from the inside of the abandoned mine, his original compositions were enriched with site-specific sound qualities before he further refined them in a singular working process. Granström works with algorithmic and generative processes, using the SuperCollider programming environment and thus blurring the lines between generative and creative forms of composition. »One of the things that I like about this way of working is that it creates a distance between myself as a composer and myself as a listener of the music that is produced entirely by the system,« he says. Granström’s technologically aided eschewing of the conventions of composing doesn’t make the end result any less personal, however. By listening again and again to the newly generated output, Granström simply took on a different role in the process of finalising the music, with the technology and the sounds becoming his co-authors.

By creating systems that generate music, he gains a new perspective on (musical) time, says Granström. »There doesn't have to be a fixed length to the music at all,« he explains. »And by writing music with this in mind, my focus tends to shift towards writing cyclical structures that gradually change and transform over time.« Simple parts, in other words, that emerge as the five complex wholes that form »Empty Room,« a record that itself seems to take on different forms with every new listen.

NEW VERSION ON WHITE VINYL! After turning heads with the relentless 2024 EP Råtner på rot, Jordsjuk are back with their full-length debut: Naglet til livet (translates to 'Nailed to life'). Across twelve tracks and 36 minutes, the band delivers a visceral strike of raw, uncompromising metal - free of gloss, gimmicks and nonsense. Naglet til livet is a kaleidoscope of destruction, decay, and ugliness, the band states. From the thrash-fueled chaos of "Grovt skadeverk" and the suffocating aggression of "Parasitt", to the punk-driven decay of "Rennestein" and the gloomy introspectiveness of "Svikter den neste", this is the sound of filth, concrete, ruin, and rage. Twelve tracks of in-your-face, riff-driven and organic metal. Jordsjuk consists of Renton (drums), Mannevond (vocals), Sagstad (guitars), and Larsen (bass) - seasoned musicians from the Norwegian underground. Their sound sits somewhere between black, death, thrash, punk, and rock, forging a sonic identity as raw as it is deliberate. The lyrics, written in Norwegian, dive into personal collapse, trauma, and apocalyptic despair, delivered with uncompromising honesty. Drums were recorded at PhatCat Studios (Rygge, Norway), with the rest captured at various locations in Oslo. Mixing was handled by Kurt Ballou (Converge) at God City Studios (Salem, MA), while Brad Boatright took care of mastering at Audiosiege Studio (Portland, OR). The result is exactly what it needs to be: dirty, sharp, and heavy. Jordsjuk is necro music for necro times, says the band, and after hearing Naglet til livet, it's hard to disagree. The band were booked to by:Larm festival and Midgardsblot in 2025, and it's on stage that their sonic violence truly takes over. For those who've seen them live, expectations are high. For everyone else - prepare to be run over.

To mark what would have been Mikis Theodorakis' 100th birthday in 2025, Intuition released a very special album: 'Lost Songs' - fourteen previously unpublished compositions by the world-renowned Greek composer, presented here for the first time in a remarkable solo piano version by German pianist Henning Schmiedt. A remarkable moment took place in 2009 at Mikis Theodorakis' studio in Athens: Henning Schmiedt personally played his piano arrangements of the 'Lost Songs' to Theodorakis himself. Some of the melodies sparked the composer's memory, while others did not - but he listened attentively, offered comments and gave guidance that directly influenced the final versions of the pieces.

As such, 'Lost Songs' can be considered a posthumous release with the composer's blessing. These pieces offer a glimpse into Theodorakis' expressive power and artistic maturity from a very young age - most of the 'Lost Songs' were written in the early 1940s and provide a compelling window into the formative years of one of the most important composers of the 20th century.

'Lost Songs' is available on 180g vinyl and digipak CD editions.

Fides Records pushes further into its 10-year anniversary journey with X3, the third chapter of the series. Staying true to the label’s decade-long commitment to forward-minded underground techno, this new instalment sharpens the focus with five cuts that move between peak-time impact, melancholic tension, and dubwise pressure—each one a different angle on the Fides aesthetic.

Side A opens with Dustin Zahn’s “Madness”, a no-nonsense peak-time weapon built on stomping momentum, immersive pressure, and relentless drive—proof of why the US veteran remains a constant reference point. Marco Bruno follows with “Aura”, where melancholic leads and detuned synths shape an introspective yet heavy-hitting groove, capturing the Italian producer’s emotional weight and versatility. Closing the side, JANEIN (co-founder of Seelen Records) delivers “Polaris”, a spatial, bleepy roller that leans into darkness while keeping the propulsion locked forward.

Flipping to Side B, Yant’s “Fractured” shifts the palette: playful yet precise, kinetic in motion, with textures that keep mutating as the rhythm snaps into place. DHÆÜR “Sealand” captures the mood of a young Italian artist carving a new lane in minimal, elegant, unapologetic techno—energized and raw, yet defined by clean design, confident restraint, and a sharp personal signature. The record concludes with Hadone’s “No Longer Observed”, a dub-tinged stomper rich in detail and low-end depth; club-weight with an emotional undercurrent, balancing elegance and power in a way that feels unmistakably Fides.

Mighty Joseph is the combination of emcees Vast Aire (Cannibal Ox) with his long-time rhyme ally Karniege. The duo's sole album, Empire State (2008) was released during the tail-end of the last great non-commercial Hip-Hop period.

Never released on vinyl before, the album will be available soon on a double LP edition.

Rooted in the concrete streets but lyrically abstract, features and beats are provided by equal musical foils including Madlib, Camu Tao, Murs, J-Zone, Poison Pen and Vordul Mega (Cannibal Ox) among others.

Fan and critical attention were positive with All Hip Hop summing the album as "solid post-millennium product that bridges the gap between gritty street tales and a paranoid view of the future."

Plug One Magazine added that "Empire State" "unravels a unique perspective, documenting not only much personal change between the two emcees but also the changes in the streets of New York City. From poverty, to the September 11 attacks, to the abuse of Hip Hop culture in general, "Empire State" stands strong as a snapshot of the city."

Shadows Lifted from Invisible Hands is an autobiographical record, comprised of four songs that Hoff refers to as ambient media. Each track is composed from sources drawn from his own involuntary aural landscape, specifically musical earworms and tinnitus frequencies.

Neither sound nor a daydream, the earworm (or stuck song) emblematizes music as a commercial form—immediate, ubiquitous, and persistent. Likewise, tinnitus is inaudible and unscrupulous, manifesting across a spectrum of frequencies at will. The cognitive swirling of these phenomena provides an ambivalent, internal soundtrack that scores a person’s movement through the world.

Those suffering from tinnitus or those who have grown accustomed to the “Tinnitus Effect” in movies will likely recognize the buzzing pitches on the record, but will likely not recognize the songs. Distorted and distilled, Shadows Lifted from Invisible Hands features altered versions of four commercial pop songs: Blondie’s “Heart of Glass,” David Bowie’s “Space Oddity,” Madonna’s “Into the Groove,” and Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day.”

Having been haunted by these songs on and off for years, Hoff tweaks the tracks, transposing and recomposing them for orchestral instrumentation. Speaking back to these involuntary echoes, these tracks go to great lengths to obfuscate their sources; to be sure not to simply re-introduce each earworm, as though they were samples. Otherwise, what’s the point? No one needs another stream.

Besides, earworms are not music, although we perceive them as such. They are non-cochlear and exist as an affective force that is neither subjective nor objective, which is to say they are an invasive—and alien—phenomenon. Like tinnitus, they are aggravated by economic, social, and environmental forces as well as emotional states, mental health, and aging. Hoff doesn’t underplay his own struggles with mental health in discussing the record—noting a long history of depression and its acuteness over the last few years, which serve as the backdrop to the composition of this record.

Scratch any pop song hard enough and you’ll find sadness underneath it. Subdermal, the songs on this record evoke a type of ephemeral weariness and despair. By recasting the original songs through their shadowy doubles, Hoff provides a window into the dark core of pop music. At the center of which lies capitalism’s desperate attempt to replicate itself through a cheap high built on echoing refrains. Just below the surface the listener finds a hangover of shadows dancing through the mind.

Swan Song

The vinyl LP at the heart of this éthiopiques 31 tracks 2 to 11 was one of the very last vinyl records ever released in Ethiopia. But above all it represents, we felt, the absolute masterpiece of the Ethiopian Groove – the Swan Song of Swinging Addis. The album leaves a clear idea for posterity of the level of sophistication and mastery that modern Ethiopian music had achieved, before being crushed under the Stalino-military heel of the Derg – as the bloody revolution that was unfolding came to be called.

Ethiopia1976.

The Revolution that broke out in February 1974 rolled on in a ruthless march. The whole of Ethiopian society was utterly stunned. The bouquets of flowers handed joyfully to the first tanks of the coup d'état were to wilt very rapidly. From September 1976 to February 1978, 18 months of Red Terror (the name given by the junta itself) spilled blood throughout the country. This fratricidal conflict took its heaviest toll among students and youth. The shift from feudalism to a cruel and primitive Stalinism left the country's citizens deeply traumatised, and snuffed out any pretence of activism, whatever the sector of society. This ice age was to last for seventeen long years.

ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä

It was three tracks by Muluken that served as the opener for éthiopiques-1 more than 25 years ago. Seven more tracks appeared on éthiopiques-3 and 13, all accompanied by The Equators, which was soon to become the Dahlak Band.

The first track, Hédètch alu, also the very first piece that Muluken ever recorded, left audiences both unsettled and amazed. Reflecting the singer's extremely young age (he was just 17 at the time), this angelic voice mystified many, who thought they were in fact listening to a feminine voice. He was not yet 22 when he released his last vinyl record in 1976 with Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), one of the very last to be issued in Ethiopia, before the cassette tape became the dominant medium for music distribution – and before the new revolutionary regime put a stop to all independent musical life, via an unspeakable barrage of prohibitions and other persecutions.

Mulu qèn, literally, “A well filled day”. This tender maternal intention wasn't enough to ward off the cruelty of fate. His mother's premature death drove Muluken to leave his native Godjam, in northeast Ethiopia, to live with an uncle in Addis Ababa. Born Muluken Tamer, he took his uncle's last name – Mèllèssè.

The spelling Muluken appeared in his administrative records. Transcription of Amharic to the Latin alphabet, both in Ethiopia and for scholars, gives rise to controversies and quibbles that can never be neatly settled. French allows for a closer approximation of the original pronunciation, thanks to its battery of accent marks, confusing as they may be to anglophones.

Between rather accommodating administrative record-keepers and the various versions that pop up in interviews given by the artist, Muluken's year of birth oscillates between 1953 and 1955…

1954? One thing is certain: the artist's talent made itself known very early indeed, because he got his start in 1966-67, at the age of 13 or 14. Photos from the period attest to his extreme youth. It's a strange sort of initiation for a very young teenager to become a sensation in the heart of Addis's nightlife at the time, Woubé Bèrèha – the Wilds of Woubé. And what's more, in the club of the Queen of the Night, the Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, the very same that was portrayed by Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér in his novel-memoir Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… The legendary female club owner who is remembered to this day by the capital's ageing boomers.

Muluken first tried his hand at the drums, before he grabbed the microphone. He emigrated briefly to the Zula Club, across the street from the old Addis Post Office, one of the ground-breaking bars of the burgeoning musical scene, before joining the Second Police Band in 1968, for around three years. He spent a few months with the short-lived Blue Nile Band founded by saxophonist Besrat Tammènè. As the musical scene grew increasingly successful, and pulled slowly but decisively away from its institutional ties, Muluken released his first 45rpm single in February 1972 (Amha Records AE 440). It was included in two LP Ethiopian Hit Parade compilation albums in September of the same year. All in all, Muluken released eight two-track 45s and the same number of original cassette tapes between February 1972 and 1984, the year that he departed for permanent exile in the USA. After converting to Pentecostalism in 1980, Muluken gradually abandoned all secular musical activity. In 1985, at the end of a concert in Philadelphia, he decided to quit concerts and recording for good. Mèlakè Gèbré, the historic bass player from the Walias band who was playing with him that night, recalls that everything appeared so irredeemably diabolical in Muluken's eyes, that it was to be the end of his contribution to Ethiopian Groove.

The end of the story, the beginning of a legend.

Dahlak Band, forgotten by History

Aside from his personal history and vocal talents, it must be remembered that Muluken Mèllèssè was one of the biggest names in the musical innovations that marked the end of the imperial period. These éthiopiques aim to convince those who are just discovering this hidden gem... As for Ethiopians themselves, they are to this day captivated by this singular and atypical figure in the Abyssinian pop landscape – even though he withdrew from public life some 40 years ago. Incorrigible devotees of poetic twists, of more or less hidden meanings, Ethiopians appreciate above all the care Muluken took in choosing his lyrics and the writers who penned them, such as Feqerte Haylou, Alemtsehay Wodajo and, here, Shewalul Mengistu (1944-1977). Love songs, written by women, a far cry from the conventional drivel that pleases sappy sentimentalists.

Muluken is equally acclaimed for his perfectionism when it came to music, the opposite of the overly casual approach that is all too common. He remained a faithful partner of musicians who came from a lineage that borrowed from several inventive and pioneering bands (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). Amongst them were certain artists who began their musical lives with Nersès Nalbandian at the Haile Sellassie Theatre and who come of age in around 1973 – at just the wrong time, you might say. Among them were the pillars Shimèlis Bèyènè (trumpet), Dawit Yifru (keyboards) and Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flute). Most notably Tilayé Gèbrè, certainly one of the most important musicians, composers and arrangers of his generation, of the end of the imperial era, and of the early years of the Derg.

It was only in 1981 that a miraculous opportunity arose for Tilayé to escape the Stalinist paradise of the dictator Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Once again it was Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) who provided a solution. The spirited and courageous producer, who had been in exile in Washington since 1975, succeeded, thanks to his incredible perseverence, in bringing the Walias Band to the USA. It was, in fact an extended Walias Band comprising ten musicians3, six of whom chose to slip away after a few concerts and the recording of an LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè was one of these. He has been living in the USA ever since. There he joined the then-nascent Ethiopian diaspora, which lived largely unto itself, and was making only very modest headway in the American musical market. It seems unfair that Tilayé Gèbrè and the Dahlak Band were not able to benefit earlier from the public recognition that they do deserve.

A similar draining away of the top-rate talents would lead to the reorganization of the major groups of the “Derg Time”. The remaining artists spread themselves around between Ibex Band (renamed Roha Band), Ethio Star Band and a remodeled Walias Band. That spelled the end of the Dahlak Band.

With this record, produced by the essential Ali Abdella Kaifa a.k.a. Ali Tango, we can appreciate everything that the Derg not only destroyed, but also prevented from flourishing. This gem of Ethiopian-style afrobeat came out in 1976 (and, by way of a parenthesis, before the FESTAC 1977 in Lagos, which was attended by an impressive delegation of Ethiopian musicians — although Fela was already personna non grata in his own country). Despite everything that might distinguish this ethio-groove from Fela’s music – no colonial axe to grind, no question of political confrontation with the authorities, no claims to negritude or Africanism for the Ethiopian musicians, and less extrovertion! –, this LP fits beautifully into the saga of intense and electrified soul of the new “African” groove that Fela and Manu Dibango embodied so well from that point onwards.

In restoring this record to its place in the afrobeat epic, it can be seen that, if nothing else, the timeline bestows a legitimate pedigree and a historical primacy to works that had no international impact when they were originally released.

Warning! Masterpiece!

The album long sought after by Mountain Goats fans is finally back in print and features new liner notes by John Darnielle. Released on the precipice of the Mountain Goats' breakout albums All Hail West Texas and Tallahassee, The Coroner's Gambit is an introspective epic that stands as one of Darnielle's best outings in any era.Darnielle on The Coroner's Gambit:There are few records in the Mountain Goats catalog that are closer to my heart than The Coroner's Gambit. It bears a sonic thumbprint shared by none of its brethren (Panasonic RX-FT500, Marantz PMD-222, and sessions in Omaha probably recorded to a Tascam Porta-One) and while two of those sources appear on several later releases, none of the other records really sound like it. Although it contains exactly no autobiographical songs, it feels personal to me_intimate, diaristic. I have vivid memories of the songs I wrote and recorded in Colo, and foggy memories of the Greyhound trip to and from Omaha. I was taking Greyhounds across Midwestern state lines to record songs with friends when I made The Coroner's Gambit, is what I'm saying. You can maybe hear the exhaust of the Greyhound in the songs if you listen close.

The Cryovac machine operates independently to service the world with an original strain of techno. Our people are pioneers of their own sound and seasoned veterans of its' cause. This cause is the basis for our action and the motivation for our vinyl. Cryovac believes the vinyl format is the truest way to take in our music, and this is why we take great care to personally craft our own plates and photograph our own art. The Cryovac approach and stance make it a true oddity in a world of commodities, and we hope you realize, feel, and respect our work.

Andy Vaz is a rebel from the city of Cologne. He is a creator of techno labels that follow their own path and challenge the standard dogma. His version of the techno sound has gone from stark and funky minimalism to synth cascades and housey feels. Andy Vaz is the perfect choice to collaborate with Andy Garcia. Garcia's brand crunchy soul tech mixed with vocal nonsense is the yin to Vaz's yang. These like minds share a name, a spirit, and a drive to keep moving forward no matter the cost.

Alvorada is Montanha’s first long play: an ambient-leaning work, nocturnal in mood yet touched by electricity, tracing a journey from waking activity into dream logic. Recorded mostly in the late hours of the evening with windows open to the city, letting its air and sounds influence the music, it sometimes reached the early moments of sunrise. The title, meaning “dawn,” reflects both the liminal hours of its making and the band’s own renewal. These tracks are closer to drawings than songs: narratives written between instruments, moments of tension and release, fragments of memory and dream. The tracklist follows this nocturnal voyage with the patience of Eno, the disquiet of Uematsu, and the madness of Miles Davis’ Decoy, oscillating between streets and sleep, routine and reverie.

Montanha was formed in 2010 by André Azevedo, Nuno Oliveira, João Sarnadas, and Tito Silva, bonding over architecture school all-nighters on videogame soundtracks (Age of Empires, Super Mario). They began as a psychedelic rock combo and in 2013 released their self-titled EP which introduced a raw, improvised energy. But the album that was meant to follow was abandoned as the band entered hiatus. The four members turned their creative drive towards co-founding Favela Discos, where experimentation with media and form reshaped their ideas of music, and developed their taste, their way of playing, and a more personal sound that was more open and disconnected from a defined genre.

By 2017, Montanha had returned to the studio with new experience, no longer a rock band in the traditional sense but a project devoted to improvisation and electronic soundscapes. An ever gentrifying city forced them to abandon acoustic drums, and they embraced electronic beats instead, and became mobile; one guitar dissolved into full synths, leaving the other to converse with bass. Improvisation remained their compass. In improvisation there are no mistakes, only missed opportunities. Montanha found their opportunity in the routine of the studio to break routines of pop and experimental. The result is a body of nearly fifty hours of recordings, sculpted into an album.

Alvorada is not only Montanha’s first LP but also the dawn of their new phase. Improvised yet carefully sculpted, the record expands the territory of the song into nonlinear narratives, letting the language of night, dream, and city seep into its form.

GATEFOLD DOUBLE VINYL WITH SPOT UV FRONT COVER

Following the skewed-unself-help-brilliance of ‘Sus Dog’ (which marked his first full foray into songs, abetted by Thom Yorke), and its companion piece ‘Cave Dog’, Chris Clark returns to the dancefloor’s simple, but no less affecting pleasures, with ‘Steep Stims’.
“I found it hard to pull away from listening to this record, hard to stop making it, I had to remove myself from the Stims and stop enjoying it at some point. The album feels like nature to me. I love it when electronic music feels more naturalistic than acoustic music, more potent, that’s the devil’s trick, the promise of electronic music.” comments Chris.
“I used an old synth - the Virus on all of the tracks. I used it at Mess in Melbourne - run by my friend Robin Fox - I loved it so much I had to buy one when I got back to the UK, it took a while to find. They’re a bit clunky to program but make some of my most favourite sounds.”
‘Steep Stims’ marks a back-to-basics approach, invoking the early years of gung-ho creativity enforced by limitations in technology at the time. “Most of the tracks on this album capture the spirit of making music on old samplers, which don’t have much memory time”, explains Clark. “It reminds me of making ‘Clarence Park’, my first album, where I would have to finish tunes in the session, as they would be saved on floppy disks and I couldn’t easily go between tracks. This new record is just a few synths and a few choice sounds; the writing is the important thing.”
Made quickly, ‘Steep Stims’ reflects the immediate rave energy of his live show, but that’s not to say it’s basic floor fodder, as it’s rife with personality, synth magic, and knack for melody. Although swift and impressionistically captured rather than laboured over, it’s still formidably deft, with plenty of oddball weirdness lurking beneath the dancefloor.
Soft, orange, scorched, brutal, the opening track ‘Gift and Wound’ captures the classic dance music dread / awe / euphoria combo perfectly, before ‘Infinite Roller’ merges sparkly-minimalism with snarling bass and soft sines, which turn more dense and metallic as it progresses.
The melancholic smoke belch of ‘No Pills U’ gives strong classic vibrations, which is belied by its creation, made in just 20 minutes. “I love working quickly sometimes”, comments Clark. “Inspiration hits, rough and ready. It’s off the cuff but also screams ‘don’t gild the lily with nonsense, keep it simple keep it clean’”. Segueing into its elder brother, the piece becomes bigger and beatier on ‘Janus Modal’, where it permutates for over 7 minutes of fluttering, beatific club majesty.
At ‘18EDO Bailiff’ you inexplicably find yourself at a clearing, things have suddenly got much quieter. You enter a decrepit and eerie old house, and as you move through its unsettling interior, you arrive at ‘Globecore Flats’. A real piano tuned to 18 notes per octave gives the pair of tracks a haunted, olde worlde feel, which promptly gets eaten by a huge tech step tearout monster, birthing a strange but exotic beast.
The white hot ‘Blowtorch Thimble’ is all hooktasm-rave-hyper-amen-energy, whilst acidic flute leaps around like Ian Anderson on pingers throughout the catchily simple jump-up lurch of ‘Civilians’.
“‘In Patient’s Day Out’ is like some sort of Morricone-does-kraut-rock-with-drum-machines, but that’s probably just in my head” says Clark. “I made several versions of this then went with the early mix but cranked through some choice outboard because it just had something.”
Drumless, yet still full of exhilarating-big-trance-drama, ‘Who Booed The Goose’ flashes by in stroboscopic fast forward, then ‘5 Millionth Cave Painting’ gives a palate cleanser, letting “the virus with its delicious broken, luxurious reverb have a moment”, before ‘Negation Loop’ swoops down in all its glory, with Clark’s tweaked vocals leading deconstructed trance breakdowns, tape edits and brutal noisebursts.
An antidote to the bombast of its predecessor is ‘Micro Lyf’, which closes the set on a poignant note, of sorts. Muted staccato gives way to field recordings “that gradually put it in this outside space; alien in a meadow somewhere nameless. It feels like a sinkhole. The record kinda swallows itself up and then is gone”, ends Chris.

Sonetos del Amor Oscuro is an ode performed by four enchanted souls who have intertwined their hearts and conjured harmonies and rhythms that wander endlessly among the spellbinding words of a poet from Granada... Federico García Lorca;
He wrung, pushed and vibrated words like tectonic plates, transforming plains into poetic mountain landscapes. He then covered them with a Moorish carpet of snow crystals and had them reflected by the dark locks of hair of a gypsy girl from Albaicín who, with a voice forged in gold and silver, sings her little sister to sleep with a soothing lullaby.

Helena Casella – vocals
Myrddin De Cauter – flamenco guitar
Stijn Kuppens – cello
Stefan Bracaval – flute, bass flute

Helena Casella, the Belgian-Brazilian vocalist with a deep, soft and warm voice, translates her multicultural background and personal thoughts into music in a passionate, soulful and refined way. With her roots in an exceptionally musical family, her music exudes this unique heritage. She effortlessly interweaves genres such as R&B, soul, hip hop and modern jazz, while remaining true to the vibrant sounds of Brazil, an essential part of her roots.
Her debut album was released earlier this year on W.E.R.F. records.

Myrddin De Cauter's music is deeply moving, complex, passionately rhythmic and deeply emotional. He has mastered the compás of flamenco, which gives him the freedom to converse with elements from jazz or classical music. His speed sometimes seems otherworldly, but those who take the time to listen closely to his music will quickly discover an immense world of pure emotion, beauty and tranquillity. After six albums and countless concerts, Myrddin proves that great virtuosos do not necessarily have to come from Spain. At the tender age of eleven, his father taught him to play the clarinet in jazz and gypsy swing style; he became part of the family orchestra and gained his first experiences on stage. A classical melody composed on the guitar prompted him to ask his father to teach him the basics of flamenco guitar. Soon after, Myrddin seemed ready for the real thing and went to Andalusia to learn from Manolo Sanlucar and Gerardo Núñez. This inspired him to compose in his own unique language, deeply rooted in the pure flamenco tradition but enriched by boundless creativity.

Stijn Kuppens is a cellist, composer and producer. In his own genre, which he describes as non-classical cello, he uses the cello in his own unique way. His profound knowledge of the complex history and techniques of the style is clearly audible: Kuppens' mastery of classical music is evident in every note he plays, whether he is performing solo or collaborating with other musicians. His skill as a musician and ambition to explore the boundaries of conventional classical music is evident in his ability to seamlessly blend different genres.

Stefan Bracaval is a classically trained flutist who graduated from the Royal Conservatory of Antwerp. His fascination with the expressive potential of improvisation led him to jazz, where he became a self-taught jazz flutist. Bracaval has collaborated on projects with prominent jazz figures such as Charles Loos, Bert Joris and the Brussels Jazz Orchestra. In addition, he worked as a soloist and arranger with the VRT Radio Choir in 2016. Bracaval leads the Stefan Bracaval QU4RTET, which emphasises the flute as a central jazz instrument and brings new repertoire rooted in jazz traditions.

Live
31/10/2025 – Café Silverio, Gent (BE)
15/01/2026 – Kloosterkapel Diepenbeek (BE)
16/01/2026 – ‘t Ey, Belsele (BE)
17/01/2026 – Sint-Luciakerk (kerkconcerten Merode), Engsbergen (BE)
23/01/2026 – Muziekcentrum Dranouter (BE)

For his last solo record ‘Through a Room’, Bill Nace shifted his usual saturated guitar sound and added tapes, hurdy gurdy, doughnut pipe, bird calls and the mysterious Japanese taishōgoto. Setting up for the final night of his three day residency at OTO with only the taishōgoto soundchecked, Nace hoped that Parker would arrive with his small soprano as its opposite. “I’ve been interested in state change, you know, playing until there’s a shift in time.” Known for his development of multiphonics to produce a constantly shifting pattern, Evan Parker has evolved an instantly recognizable sound - his work the soprano most distinct. Happily, it was the soprano Evan brought with him and as soon as the two start to play they entwine - taking off in a double helix of keys and reed primed for endless reconfiguration. Space warps under the velocity of playing, the pitch rising unrelentingly. It felt like unending lift off in the room, sheer energy until the last note makes remember your feet have been on the floor the whole time. Total time bending shredding.

–

"They had never played together before. They had never even met each other before this springtime 2024 concert at London’s Café Oto.

Evan Parker, circular breathing maestro of the saxophone, a legend in the universe that is Free Improvisation since the late 1960s and Bill Nace, one of the most intriguing experimental “noise” guitarists of the 1990s/2000s underground scene.

For those of us who have been enamored by the live and documented work of both these gents, this Café Oto duo was a must-hear event. It could have gone anywhere musically and that would have been totally fine. Particularly with Evan having a history of being thrown into a variety of challenging collaborations throughout his career, employing the learned elegance of trust in his own sensitivity to listening, responding, leading, following, sparring, intertwining, dialoguing, creating in the instant and, essentially, dignifying the non-hierarchical grace of chance.

The aesthetics of socialist consideration in Evan Parker’s playing, in his community of expanded and personal technique, for a younger player such as Bill Nace, strikes an exemplary model. This notion of respect would be entirely the reason Nace, when offered a residency at the most critical “new music” room in England, would request to play in duo with Parker.

Bill Nace came to prominence mostly during the apex of experimental music activity in and around Western Massachusetts in the early days of the aughts, with a focus on visual art and free improvisation guitar action. He could be found in the daytime hours, his head hanging down over a notepad, penning fine-tuned illustrations and abstract line drawings, while in the evenings he’d be attending any number of basement noise gigs, many of which he’d be participating in. His guitar style came across as being informed as much as by the physicality of his writing utensils in friction to the page as it was to his hearing and redefining of radical recordings ranging anywhere from the Black Unity Group to Black Flag.

Utilizing various metal files and other small cylindrical objects Bill would allow his guitar and amplifier to be in tandem with the improvisatory movements of his body as the instrument balanced, intentionally and, at times, precariously, upon his lap. The performances came across thrilling and daring and they would be mostly in the context of venues nothing more than a low-ceilinged damp and dank New England basement, a clutch of people hanging onto rusty pipes or sitting up on dilapidated washer/dryer machines, the shards of Bill’s “file guitar” sounds ringing out like the most alive music on Earth.

By the time Bill reached Café Oto in early 2024 he had relocated to Philadelphia all the while releasing a succession of collaborative LPs on his Open Mouth label to present his developing progression of solo and collaborative work. He also would find himself considerably engaged with playing the electric taishōgoto, a keyboard-activated string instrument from Japan which can exist as a one, two, four, five, or six string oblong sound object. Bill’s approach to the taishōgoto would not be too unlike his approach to the traditional electric guitar, though no outboard implements such as files, sticks, and rocks are utilized. The similarity would lie wholly with Bill’s full immersion of high velocity action-playing where, with the taishōgoto, an electric drone beauty occurs. The flurry of sonics and resultant harmonics emanating from the amplifier (which Bill opts to dial into with borderline loud-as fuck volume settings) furthers the meta-mantra properties of the instrument in an astounding display of drone dynamism.

This sound world of Bill’s two-stringed taishōgoto on this Café Oto night worked beautifully with Evan Parker’s improvisatory saxophone conceptions. The duology achieved instant lift off at ground zero only to find it’s eventual finale as if it were organically ordained. Time seemingly morphed from its ancient human construct of control, rendered inconsequential to the torrential transcendence of the room wildly activated by the magic resonance of the multi-directional pan-spatial sonance of the music as if it were some beatific blessing. It was one of those nights where art as a liberating force of spirit gifted the listeners with an offering of exaltation and joy. It was entirely mystical and mind blowing. A night of Total Music."

Thurston Moore, London, 2025