Suche:not fragile

Collecing orders for repress

Dawns Early Shadows By Berlin's Ubahn Platforms, Desperately Running From His Own Shadow Into The Arms Of A Lover Not Found. Eva Is A Warm Soul From The Past Trapped In A Ice Cold City Reliving A Modern Neues Sehen. We Are Proud To Present His Fragile Story & Namesake Ep / Single Title 'einsam' Which, In Our Opinion, Is A Romantic-wave Masterpiece. Flip To The B Side, The Beginning Of Eva's Loveless Story Actually Starts Here With 'the Gitter' Gearing To Machine Funk Territory And A Naive Outlook On What Could Be In-store For Him. Finally P808 Takes Us Into The (sub) Consciousness Of His Mind, Just As The 808 In The Name Suggest, Toms Pulsate Like His Brain Scanning Neurons Over And Over, Searching For The Answer, 'who Will ...who Will Love Me'

The sublime songs comprising Los Angeles-based musician Ana Roxanne's second release, Because Of A Flower, germinated gradually across five years, inspired by interwoven notions of gender identity, beauty, and cruelty. She describes her process as beginning with “a drone element and a mood,” then intuiting melody, syllables, and lyrics incrementally, like sacred shapes materializing from mist.
The experience of identifying as intersex informs the album on levels both sonic and thematic, from spoken word texts borrowed from tonal harmony textbooks to cinematic dialogue samples and castrati aria allusions. It's an appropriately interstitial vision of ambient songcraft, a chemistry of wisps and whispers, sanctuary and sorrow, conjured through a fragile balance of voice, bass, space, and texture.
Despite a background studying at the prestigious Mills College in Oakland, Roxanne's music rarely feels conceptual, instead radiating an immediate and emotive aura, rooted in the present tense of her personal journey. She speaks of the flower in the title as a body, singular and sunlit, as many petals as thorns, an enigma beholden only to itself. But whether taken as surface or subtext, Because is a transfixing document of a rare artist in the spring of their ascension.

Celebrating a Decade of Dark Entries with a compilation titled ‘Tens Across The Board’. We revisit our roster and chose 10 songs from 10 bands from 10 different countries spanning the years 1981-1993. The songs flow in chronological order and have never appeared on vinyl, with 7 of the songs previously unreleased.

The compilation begins in 1981 with Parade Ground from Belgium, the duo of brothers Pierre and Jean-Marc Pauly with help from Patrick Codenys and Jean-Luc of Front 242. “The Light’s Gone” was one of their earliest experiments and employs a stark minimalism with modular synthesizers, guitar reverb and tape delay. Next we venture to Granada, Spain in 1982 to meet the trio of Diseño Corbusier. Influenced by Cabaret Voltaire and Dadaism, “La Esperanza está en Antenas” was the band’s take on melancholic pop fueled by a robotic DR-55 bass-line. Sailing the Mediterranean Sea to Athens to meet Greek electronic goddess Lena Platonos who shares a demo from 1983. “Μια Γάτα Σασ Περιμένει Στη Γωνία” translates to “A Cat Is Waiting On The Corner” and is possibly the witchiest sounds we’ve shared yet, ending with a blood curdling scream. Frozen in 1983 we cross Ionian Sea to Messina, Italy and visit Victrola, the duo of Antonino “Eze” Cuscinà and Carlo Smeriglio. They’ve unearthed a melodic instrumental version of “Luca” fueled by a Korg Polysix and TB-303. Traveling across the Adriatic to Slovenia circa 1984, where Borghesia are working on their album ‘Ljubav Je Hladnija Od Smrti’. “Magla” translates to “Fog” fitting for the thick, somber electronics of Aldo Ivancic providing a dense atmosphere for the baritone vocals of Dario Seraval.

On Side B we go down under to Sydney and excavate a hidden Tom Ellard song recorded in 1984 under the alias Lord Metal, an anagram of his name for copyright reasons. “Ga Duum Blitzfonika” is a slow-motion, unadulterated dance groove originally released on the cassette compilation "Independent World”. Skipping ahead to 1986 in Tours, France we salute X-Ray Pop the minimum new wave duo of Didier "Doc" Pilot and Zouka Dzaza. They contribute the hypnotically fragile “Corto Maltese” that originally appeared on the cassette compilation ‘Plop’. Crossing the German boarder we arrive in Dortmund at the apartment of Andreas Sippel of Second Decay who recorded the instrumental demo “Lübeckerstrasse” in 1988 with partner Christian Purwien. Utilizing an TR-808, SH-101 and Arp Odyssey this cold slice of futurism was named after the street Andreas lived on. Traveling westward to England, specifically Basildon, Essex to the teenage bedroom of From Nursery To Misery, the trio of identical twin sister vocalists Gina and Tina Fear and keyboard player Lee Stevens. “Contentment” is an introspective, ethereal pop song with child-like vocals that originally appeared on the Belgian tape compilation ‘Heartbeat Vol.4’ in 1989. Finally, we return home to San Francisco and close out the compilation with Cyrnai the moniker of multi-instrumentalist Carolyn Fok. “Digital Grit Box (Demo)” was an outtake from the ‘Transfiguration’ album sessions recorded in 1993, utilizing dark dance drum beats made with MIDI sequencer programs Studio Vision and Sample Cell.

All songs have been remastered by George Horn at Fantasy Studios. The vinyl is housed in a custom designed jacket by Eloise Leigh featuring our label’s colors black-white-red with connect-the-dots pattern linking the 10 songs via maps/timeline/location, all relating to the reissue process, plus source images from San Francisco, our hometown. For this landmark release we've also printed a 2-sided fold-out wall poster that includes every artist we've released in our first 10 years 2009-2019 in black, red and silver metallic ink, plus an 8x11 insert with lyrics, notes and photos.

The method is instability.

— Violeta Garcia & Hora Lunga

Violeta García & Hora Lunga return with 4ever, their second album and the follow-up to I’ll Wait For You In The Car Park. Released in 2025 on -ous, their debut received airplay on BBC and NTS and was selected for Bandcamp’s Best Experimental Music year-end list. 4ever picks up where that record left off: in ordinary moments, small scenes and the strange emotional weight of being somewhere between places. But here, these moments are stretched across a much larger, darker screen. A night flight, a terminal, a bad connection. When too many feelings are carried from one place to another, everyday situations begin to feel epic, empty, or apocalyptic.

Built from García’s cello and Hora Lunga’s synths, samples and field recordings, the album pushes further into emotion, letting fragile melodies, orchestral cello gestures, heavy low-end and compressed noise melt into something both dystopian and strangely familiar. Its warmth is not meant to be an escape from this world, but something that appears within it. Acoustically, the album lives through the closeness of the materials, the way sounds stay with each other, and in the feeling that even the most unstable moments are being carried together. The album presents itself in scenes that fade into each other: quiet melodic fragments that are interrupted and restarted, unpredictable changes of direction, held together by an inevitable melody, a bright synth harmony unfolding into an almost orchestral cello arrangement. Later, a broken organ-like sample turning in circles, cello melodies appearing as if they were trying to remember a song that never belonged to one voice alone. An endless loop that is placed under changing lights, briefly opening into emotional chords, then slipping back into emptiness.

It is this instability that Violeta García and Hora Lunga place at the center of their collaboration. They do not decorate the cello with production, or place electronics around an acoustic centre. They explain: “On 4ever, we become part of the same unstable surface. What holds the record together is not resolution, but the trust in staying together as things distort, overload, disappear and return.”

Violeta García, an Argentinian cellist known for her solo work and for her role in the punk band Blanco Teta, brings the instrument close to the body, as melody, pressure, texture, noise and sudden emotional weight. García has brought her distinct musical voice to KEXP, Rewire, Le Guess Who?, Bad Bonn Kilbi, Silent Green, TransMusicales, Roskilde and more.

Hora Lunga, a Zurich-based producer and composer working across unstable song forms, treats electronics less as a frame than as a weather system: something that can hold a scene together, distort it or make it disappear. In recent years, his compositions have ranged from experimental song forms, sound performances, ensemble compositions and film music. His ensemble WIRREN consists of up to fifteen performers.

Bachar Mar-Khalifé Plays Christophe

The album title, Bachar Mar-Khalifé Plays Christophe, inevitably comes as a surprise: the Lebanese composer, singer, and multi-instrumentalist ventures into the world of the pop dandy who escaped the yé-yé era… From the very first notes, one thing becomes clear: splendor flows effortlessly from melodies restored to their fragility and simplicity. Bachar Mar-Khalifé explores the hypnotic melancholy of a world that is both sophisticated and crystal clear. A fascinating plunge “into this collapsing luxury,” as the lyrics of Paradise Lost say. Seven tracks with his collaborators Dogan Poyraz on drums and Aleksander Angelov on bass, seven narratives unfolding the musical richness of Christophe’s songs as much as that of Bachar Mar-Khalifé’s playing and singing. A captivating journey, both on record and on stage. It all started there, in fact. In April 2025, BMK dared to pay tribute to Christophe at the Fragile Festival, at the Cirque Zingaro, five years after his death. At first glance, it wasn't his familiar world. "I haven't idolized him my whole life," he explains. "I really knew Christophe personally before I knew his work in detail." During his childhood in Lebanon, and then after arriving in France in 1989 at the age of six, the music played at home left little room for Christophe's pop. "We listened more to Brassens, Brel, Ferré, Barbara. I hardly knew anything more than 'Les Mots bleus.' Then we met. Christophe loved the night, young musicians, exploring together..." In 2018, Bachar and Christophe recorded a Unik session for FIP, which involved recording a 45 rpm single live, followed by a concert at the Maison de la Radio. The younger brother has the opportunity to discover a legend, but also how it works: “His melodies allow you to go very far—even him, who seems to be searching for a new version with each interpretation, as if he wanted to return to the organic aspect of the song. A researcher who, out of a need for freedom, wants to escape the image people have of him.” So there was no question of overproducing these covers as one might do with the stage fright of tackling an intimidating work. “I tried to go very fast to deliver each song, as if I had composed it myself.” Working instinctively, very spontaneously, the bulk of the album comes from the trio's rehearsals and the concerts that followed. “I chose songs that moved me. Very beautiful melodies and very beautiful lyrics.” Whether the lyrics are by Jean-Michel Jarre or Alain Kan, “they often speak of love in danger.” “I like to hear this quote from Paradise Lost: ‘Dandy, a little cursed, a little aged / In this crumbling luxury.’ Here and there, he pruned the lyrics, as if to make them more audible, in Les Mots bleus, ‘The winter wind blows in April / I love the still silence’ – an evocation of the month of Christophe’s death. And he chose a little-known song from the yé-yé era, Les Amoureux qui passent, in which we hear the young trumpeter Siméon Petrov, who further expands the play on the archetypes of vintage romantic song. Between accepted fragility and the vertigo of feeling, between virtuosity of lightness and unfathomable depths, Bachar Mar-Khalifé unfolds an unexpected kinship with Christophe.” A kinship of silences and sonic surprises (a synthesized zurna sound in "Emporte-moi," for example) that will continue on tour. He is also preparing an album of original songs, his first since 2020, after many compositions for film and collaborations with other artists. He writes songs of love and dance, at a time when Lebanon and the world are experiencing such dark times. Perhaps this is yet another lesson from Christophe: to love and sing "in this crumbling luxury."

At the heart of ‘Diese Fragile Praesenz’ lies a melancholic yet propulsive drone, constructed from a field recording and drenched in white noise. Around this softly glowing orb Kelovolt constructs a vast, shifting, sombre soundscape. Lush, magisterial pads, starry-eyed synth work, cold washes of tape hiss and static melt in and out of the mise-en-scène. Crumbling walls of bass and distortion collapse in slow motion even as rich, brasslike harmonies elevate the listening mind. Long keening synth notes emerge from the fog, intertwining with falling tubular figures, a journey through a wormhole of sound both monumental and fragile.
The accompanying reinterpretations approach this deeply rich source material with discerning reverence. Voltmar's version deepens the grain of the original, with sharper percussion and washes of static that blow through the mix like little gales of dust. Anthony Linell's PM and AM remixes delve into a darker emotional core, placing at the centre a low, shadowy synth pulse around which mists of tape hiss and distortion swirl. Black Merlin steers the track down the path of eerie psychedelia, echoing clicks and dubwise space around a groove often found in the deeper chasms of contemporary techno.
Elsewhere, Die Wilde Jagd stretches the original into a mesmeric landscape of drones, occasional distant percussion and heavy fog, punctuated by fleeting moments of melodic clarity and beautifully resonant bell tones. CV313's pair of reworks complete the collection by exploring two complementary dimensions of the original through his signature dub approach. The Gravitational Pull mix feels the most true to the title track, amplifying its starry-eyed, celestial qualities, with a softer, hazier version built around a deep bass groove, while the Dimensional Dub descends into vast caverns of echo, resonance and alien texture - strong dub-techno sensibilities loom large in this mix.
Endlessly contemplative, endlessly exploratory, minimood027 is a trip to its own sonic galaxy that spirals inexorably outward, carrying the mind to ever wider astral planes. But at the core is that ever-pulsing drone, the black abyss that draws consciousness powerlessly back into the great nothingness.

Over the course of more than four decades, Andrew Chalk has created one of ambient and experimental music's most distinctive, influential, and enduring bodies of work. Though his recordings have taken many forms—from the raw, post-Industrial sounds of Ferial Confine in the 1980s to the fragile guitar meditations, blurred keyboard studies, and richly textured collages that populate the Faraway Press catalogue—they remain united by a singular sensibility: an uncommon attentiveness to atmosphere, nostalgia, and the power of restraint.

Mystical Obscurant offers a rare opportunity to encounter the expansive character of that oeuvre in miniature. Rather than documenting a single period or methodology, it functions almost like a survey of Chalk's musical language—a collection of new music that illuminates the breadth of his practice while distilling the singular vision that unites it.

“The Sea of Sorrow” and “Peacemaker” feel cut from the same cloth as the sacred guitar minimalism of The River That Flows Into the Sands, while “Against the Tide” would sit naturally alongside the smudged and distant keys of Blue Eyes of the March. Other pieces draw upon environmental sound and loop-based constructions, hallmarks of Chalk's more recent, vignette-like compositions. Though these recordings emerge from different moments in his long creative journey, each inhabits a recognizable world: one where melodies drift in diffuse, unhurried forms and sound gathers with painterly grace.

What is most striking when these pieces are heard together is not their difference but their coherence. Across changing instruments, collaborators, and approaches, Chalk has consistently pursued a subjunctive music of suggestion rather than declaration, creating spaces where memory and imagination are allowed to unfold at their own pace.

There's a confidence in calling something 'cheesy' before anyone else gets the chance to. The Lazy Eyes lean into it, they have an understanding that sincerity, when left out in the open long enough, will always risks ridicule. But what's remarkable on Cheesy Love Songs is how little they flinch for a young band dropping a sophomore album.
This is a record that understands its inheritance. You can hear the ghosts of bedroom psych, of records made by young people who discovered that distortion could double as a shield, that reverb could make even the most fragile confession feel infinite. But Cheesy Love Songs doesn't hide inside those textures, it lets them bloom until they almost overwhelm the room, like a feeling you tried to downplay that instead insists on becoming the only thing you can hear.

The kaleidoscopic guitars, the melodies that feel like they've been unearthed rather than written, the way it treats love as both spectacle and small disaster. These are songs that circle the same emotional drain: wanting too much, too quickly, and then sitting in the quiet aftermath of having said it out loud. The band doesn't pretend that intensity is sustainable; instead, they document the crash with the same care as the ascent.

In that way, Cheesy Love Songs feels like a document of early belief — the kind that arrives before irony calcifies, before restraint feels like wisdom. It's a record made by a band still willing to risk the embarrassment of being 'cheesy' in pursuit of something louder, brighter, and more honest than cool. And maybe that's what makes it an iconic modern Australian sophomore album: not just that it captures a moment in time for the band, but that it refuses to outgrow it.

Aftersome refers to that suspended moment of wonder, when you realize you’ve been led here by a chain of unexpected events and small decisions — so improbable they almost feel preordained. Between chance and destiny, it is a fragile state where emotion and reflection intertwine.
This album by You Man embodies precisely that idea: each track is a step along this path, a resonance born of accidents and coincidences, ultimately shaping a coherent trajectory despite its improbability.
The work moves between techno, house and post-wave, infused with science-fiction and fantastical influences, constantly blurring the line between reality and imagination.
The experience is enriched by remarkable collaborations: Marc Almond (Soft Cell), Local Suicide, Jérôme Voisin, each bringing their own brilliance to this odyssey.

ARCA unfolds as a modern parable, where the ancient biblical plagues become subtle echoes of the afflictions we have created. through ten distinct compositions, it explores the human shadows - hope and fear, violence and greed, resentment and perfectionism - that we cast upon the world and upon ourselves, crafting a fragile, fractured existence. each track serves as a mirror reflecting our flaws and contradictions, inviting listeners to confront the quiet turmoil within and around us.

amidst this sonic journey, the music becomes a space for reflection and reckoning, gently urging us to acknowledge these plagues not as distant curses, but as intimate truths. it is an invitation to recognize our own power offering a path toward redemption and renewal in the turbulent landscape we call home.

They offer a path towards hippiesque stage shows, classic E-organ hues, excess and Sixties rock flair - played by young faces. Their genre is psychedelic rock - but do not miss out on the subtle Blues and Folk traces hidden in there! Established in 2022, the band is already awaiting the release of their second studio album called "Dawns on Mental Highways" in June and making their way onto the various stages of their home region - the Nuremberg Metropolitan area, Southern Germany. The Citadel - Vintage mixed with contemporary vibes, freshly served psychedelic lifestyle! Album description: Here is the second studio album by the German Psychedelic Rock Band The Citadel.

It is a curious mixture of musical styles reminiscent of the time around 1967, when bands experimented in the studio and paved new paths. So maybe, the album title "Dawns on Mental Highways" reflects the stance towards their music. Or maybe it hints at something different. Who can tell? All you need to do is listen, and there is a lot to hear: The singer seems to have a fragile voice, yet shouts her Dylanesque lyrics angrily from time to time. The organ player soaks half of the songs with a classic acid sound. The guitar player acts a folky one, throwing in acoustic tunes and flute, before bashing into heavy electric riffs. The bass player is unusually jumpy on his Tropicana-fused lines while the drummer dances and stomps easily as needed.

They offer a path towards hippiesque stage shows, classic E-organ hues, excess and Sixties rock flair - played by young faces. Their genre is psychedelic rock - but do not miss out on the subtle Blues and Folk traces hidden in there! Established in 2022, the band is already awaiting the release of their second studio album called "Dawns on Mental Highways" in June and making their way onto the various stages of their home region - the Nuremberg Metropolitan area, Southern Germany. The Citadel - Vintage mixed with contemporary vibes, freshly served psychedelic lifestyle! Album description: Here is the second studio album by the German Psychedelic Rock Band The Citadel.

It is a curious mixture of musical styles reminiscent of the time around 1967, when bands experimented in the studio and paved new paths. So maybe, the album title "Dawns on Mental Highways" reflects the stance towards their music. Or maybe it hints at something different. Who can tell? All you need to do is listen, and there is a lot to hear: The singer seems to have a fragile voice, yet shouts her Dylanesque lyrics angrily from time to time. The organ player soaks half of the songs with a classic acid sound. The guitar player acts a folky one, throwing in acoustic tunes and flute, before bashing into heavy electric riffs. The bass player is unusually jumpy on his Tropicana-fused lines while the drummer dances and stomps easily as needed.

Arriving just over a year after their last release, Fragile World marks a striking shift in tone and energy for the band. Recorded live to tape in New Zealand by Paddy Hill, with production by Tom Healy (Tiny Ruins, The Chills, Folk Bitch Trio), Fragile World captures The Veils in an urgent and instinctive mode. The album's title is both a reflection of the present moment - a time in which many institutions appear to be crumbling before our eyes - and a metaphor for the act of creation itself. The process of making music, Andrews notes, is a delicate and fragile undertaking where thousands of small decisions gradually coalesce into a finished whole.

New from Ulla’s 28912 label comes a gorgeous bouquet of lowercase wonders from Justin Cantrell aka J and the Woolen Stars, part of Picnic, and the brains behind the excellent Daisart and se Dessaisir Publishing labels.

»Puff« is a glistening pool of lush refractions and music-box lullabies, featuring an array of acoustic instruments and fragile foley sounds that are gently peeled away until all we’re left with are the faded outlines of half-remembered songs.

A sound that roots itself in the prophetic machinations of artists like Fennesz and the languid Japanese minimalism of Fourcolour or Moskitoo, »Puff« strikes a delicate balance, sounding as bewitchingly informal as a Tenniscoats set, but also consistently muddling the perception of high and low-brow sound. Cantrell’s skill lies in a sort of sonic conjuration, bamboozling the brains of those of us who grew up listening to stepped-on audio via ramshackle RealMedia streams by alchemising the content, turning found sound into gold. Just tell us you don’t get chills from hearing the bitrate-impaired acoustic guitar on »Dirty like an angel«, set against a backdrop of windy, harmonic detritus. It’s both meticulously contrived and gloriously off-the-cuff, like one of Vincent Gallo’s classic »When«-era demos reduced down to 96kbps.

Similarly, »She knows just what to say« provokes faint memories of folk music, with impromptu fiddle parts gently steamrolled to create a sound that’s nothing short of exquisite, like pressed flowers rediscovered in an old, discarded book. Even the more palpably electronic elements are hand sculpted in a way that belies the era we’re living in - it’s music for a digital age that sounds oddly unplugged, flawed and human. An unmistakably lovely antidote to the opiating nostalgia of our time.

With their debut album "Invictus," Stairway To Violet open the door to a world where cinematic rock meets emotional storytelling, atmospheric sounds, and uncompromising honesty. The album is a cinematic experience—a soundtrack for life's darkest and brightest moments. In 13 intense songs (plus two exclusive piano versions), "Invictus" tells of inner struggles, abysses, ecstasies, and the courage to rise again even from the most fragile moments. The band combines epic soundscapes with modern rock-to-metal dynamics, powerful vocals, and an aesthetic depth that immediately resonates and gets under your skin. "Invictus" leads through drug-induced euphoria and psychedelic distortion ("Love Death & Pixiedust," "Come Spirit Come"), through destructive passion ("Paranoia," "My Heart's Cut Open"), and through the wild, raw primal force of humanity ("Animal," "It Thrills It Kills"). The song "Unholy War" bears its title because there is nothing sacred about war. "Parade Of Stars" leads deep into the universe amidst the sounds of the planets, to a humble search for the source. "Invictus" means "unconquered." The term represents the motivation to forge a new place in life and not be defined by past trauma.

Phonica welcomes Mattias El Mansouri, a Swedish-born DJ and producer of Moroccan/Chilean descent who has been behind some of our favourite releases over the past few years on labels such as Aniara and Nous'klaer.

On the 'Sense Data' 12", El Mansouri expands on his atmospheric House and Techno explorations with three deep yet dancefloor primed pieces that hold personal resonance for him.

El Mansouri, who holds a degree in Theoretical Philosophy, explains:

"'Sense Data' are the immediate elements of perception; what is directly given to the senses before any judgment or interpretation. In vision, these appear as colored, shaped patches; in other senses, as sounds, tastes, smells, or tactile qualities. For example, seeing a brown table with a white coaster involves sense data of a brown patch and a white roundish patch, from which one infers the presence of a table and coaster."

On the record's flip, we have the beautiful "Cielo Vacío' and 'Ouzo Hallon' dub version of 'Sense Data'. El Mansouri continues:

"Cielo Vacío translates to “empty sky” in Spanish. The track serves as a eulogy for my brother, who passed away in December 2023. I chose this title because it resonates with the sonic and emotional atmosphere of the piece. Its ambiguity is intentional, carrying both the weight of grief that lingers after losing someone you love, and a strange, fragile peace you extend toward the departed. It reflects the hope that, wherever they are, whether or not one believes in an afterlife, they have found rest.

Ouzo Hallon translates to Ouzo (the Greek liquor)+Hallon (Raspberry). It’s a long drink that my (Greek) ex came up with last summer, mixing ouzo, raspberry syrup/raspberry juice and ice. It became a thing in our little friend group, consisting of mostly Greeks, and every time we all hang out we would all just drink ouzo hallon until we couldn’t stand straight. I always wanted to name a track Ouzo Hallon, just for the fun of it, and what better way to get the chance than now!"

Australian composer-performers Judith Hamann and James Rushford have worked together in countless projects for two decades, perhaps most notably in Golden Fur, their trio with Sam Dunscombe. Black Truffle is pleased to announce Midmeste, their first work as a duo. Its title is Middle English for ‘the middlemost point’, alluding to how the piece builds on the points of overlap between the highly personalised musical languages Hamann and Rushford have developed in recent years. Performed on cello and a variety of pipe organs, Midmeste is a spacious, sometimes unsettling exploration of their shared interest in alternative tunings, psychoacoustic phenomena, the physical properties of their instruments, and the usually peripheral sounds generated by the performing body.

Beginning with a sequence of austerely vibrato-less harmonics from Hamann's cello, trailed by Rushford's whistling portative organ tones, the music soon expands into a slow-moving melodic wander, pausing at times to linger over an uncomfortable harmony or particularly resonant cello tone. Hamann and Rushford have long histories of engagement with pre-Classical European musical traditions, having in past projects performed and radically extended the work of Solage, Louis Couperin, Johann Conrad Beissell and other composers. Here they use a 15th century song by John Dunstaple, ‘O rosa bella’, which returns throughout the piece, distorted, aerated and splayed into new forms.

Developed while the two shared residencies at Akademie Schloss Solitude, Stuttgart in 2020 and La Becque on Lake Geneva in 2023, Midmeste integrates recordings made (at at the invitation of the Biennale Son) on the organ of the Basilica St Valere in Sion, Switzerland—the world’s oldest playable organ, built in the early 15th century. Played by both Rushford and Hamann, the instrument’s idiosyncratic features, including bellows pumped manually using massive wooden beams, are integrated into the music through amplification. Creaks and thumps locate the music physically both in the performers’ bodies and the specific site of its making. Moving through a series of distinct episodes across its forty-minute span, Midmeste makes space for near-silent duets of high harmonics and hissing air, moments where twittering high tones and rumbling sub-bass could be electronic, and static fields that unexpectedly blossom into almost Romantic harmonies.

Listeners familiar with Hamann and Rushford’s work will find many familiar features here: the stunningly rich cello tones, their patient sustain allowing heightened awareness of the inner life of sound and its interactions with the environment; the care with which acoustic space is activated, becoming at times a third instrumental voice; the attention to fragile, unstable sonorities that sometimes have a comic edge. A major work from two key figures in contemporary experimental music, Midmeste synthesises rigorous exploration of fundamental questions of sound and performance with an unapologetic embrace of beauty.

Sans Merit arrives on Knekelhuis with his second album Trolley Polly. A radiant album from currently LA-based Australian musician Griffin James—one that leans into unguarded joy with a playful, disarming sincerity.

The album rocks right away into our world. Lifting off where the guitar pedals mash the gas and go. While at other moments the acoustic guitar passages carry a neofolk intimacy, like the low-voiced choir singer cast out of a pastoral world, left to wander in his own solitude. These moments are swept up by surging shoegaze episodes, slipping into hazy hypnagogic pop interludes and wiry post-punk turns, giving the record a restless, shifting pulse.

Beneath it all lies a lyrical sensitivity that grounds the album’s movement. Sans Merit reflects on the big questions in a world that feels increasingly fragile, balancing vulnerability with a self-aware, gently naïve humor, while staying attuned to the emotional undercurrents of everyday life. It’s this perspective that makes Trolley Polly feel so human—alive in its contradictions, and quietly comforting.

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

On Dreams ’24 / ’25, Scottish composer Bill Wells turns his nocturnal imagination into a sequence of delicate musical miniatures. The album brings together 24 short pieces, most of them under two minutes, unfolding in just under half an hour like a quietly drifting dream diary.

The album is split into two parts. On the Dreams 2024 side, Norman Blake lends his voice to Wells’ dream-born melodies. Blake, best known as a founding member of Teenage Fanclub, recorded the songs with Wells in a single afternoon at his home, capturing their fragile immediacy in direct and unadorned performances.

For Dreams 2025, Aby Vulliamy — one of Yorkshire’s best kept musical secrets — takes over vocal duties. In mid 2025, Wells sent her a batch of demos; Vulliamy recorded them at home and sent them back to him. The result is a second chapter that feels more introspective, intimate and gently surreal.

The songs themselves are born directly from dreams. Wells wakes from the dream, records it on his mobile and later shapes it into a brief, lyrical composition. One piece, Mackenzie’s Return, was inspired by a dream in which Elvis Costello marched through the streets of a suburban town complaining that he had run out of song ideas, a detail that perfectly captures the album’s blend of humour, strangeness and quiet melancholy.

Dreams ’24 / ’25 is not a collection of fully formed pop songs, but rather a series of fleeting emotional snapshots: soft voices, simple motifs, and melodies that appear and vanish before they can fully settle. It is an album that rewards close listening, inviting the listener into a private, half-lit space somewhere between memory and imagination.

The album is accompanied by a striking cover artwork by Annabel Wright.

Laurel Halo returns with an album of original soundtrack music, composed for the film Midnight Zone by visual artist Julian Charrière. Following the path of a drifting Fresnel lighthouse lens as it descends through the Clarion-Clipperton Fracture Zone — a remote abyssal plain in the Pacific Ocean, rich in rare metals and increasingly targeted for deep-sea mining — the film traces a descent into one of Earth’s last untouched ecosystems.


Charrière’s film reveals the deep not as void, but as a luminous biome teeming with fragile life: bioluminescent creatures, swirling schools of fish, and elusive predators. The suspended lens becomes an abyssal campfire, attracting species caught in the tides of uncertainty, their futures hanging in the balance.


Echoing this tension, Halo’s compositions evoke a sensory freefall, where gravity falters and light and sound flicker in uncertain rhythms. Midnight Zone is a sonic drift through the space between what we seek to extract, fail to understand, and must protect.


Halo’s score evokes the life that exists beyond our physical airbound capacity. The material features long, subtle passages of electro-acoustic ambient, drone and sound design, slowly flowing and unfolding with rich detail. The music, composed largely on a Montage 8 synthesizer and Yamaha TransAcoustic piano at the Yamaha studios in New York City, possesses an uncanny quality: that of synthetic waveforms being amplified and sung through the stringboard of the physical body of the TransAcoustic piano. Combined with stacks of violin and viol da gamba, the music on Midnight Zone possesses trace elements of a human hand in an otherwise sunken landscape. Patient, submerged, and alive. The album will be the third on Halo’s imprint, Awe.


The film is central to Charrière’s current solo exhibition Midnight Zone. The exhibition engages with underwater ecologies, exploring the complexity of water as an elemental medium affected by anthropogenic degradation. Reflecting upon its flow and materiality, profundity and politics, its mundane and sacral dimensions, the solo show acts as a kaleidoscope, inviting us to dive deep.

Death Is Not The End collaborate with Uzbek label Maqom Soul to deliver an LP counterpart to last year's mixtape of the same title, compiling specially picked & fully licensed individual belters from the ex-soviet studios of Central Asian republics between 1978 and 1989 - incl. Uzbek, Tajik, Kurdish & Uyghur artists pulling traditional folk motifs together with pop & rock and psych elements.

"These recordings do not form a smooth or coherent history. They feel more like a sequence of discoveries made at different moments and in different circumstances. Songs and instrumental pieces that once lived inside specific contexts radio broadcasts, philharmonic programs, touring routes now sit side by side, revealing hidden connections as well as clear fractures between them.

Nasiba Abdullaeva appears here as a voice from the end of an era. Trained within a conservatory system, she worked inside the format of the Soviet pop song while filling it with melodic logic that did not come from Moscow or Leningrad. Her voice is soft and sustained, shaped by Eastern melisma, and it never functions as decoration. Even in tightly structured songs there is a sense of resistance, an effort to preserve a musical language rooted in Uzbek tradition rather than fully adapted to an all Union standard.

The ensemble Sintez, later renamed Navo, represents a different path. Beginning as a student rock group, the band was gradually absorbed into the official VIA system with all its limitations and compromises. Yet it was precisely within those boundaries that Sintez and Navo developed a recognizable sound. Electric guitars and jazz rock harmonies do not overpower the folk material but remain in tension with it. Their recordings feel like negotiations between what the musicians wanted to play and what they were allowed to perform.

The Tajik ensemble Gulshan reflects an institutional approach carried to a high professional level. Formed under television and radio structures, the group treated folk material almost as a written score. Carefully constructed arrangements, close attention to orchestration, and restrained use of pop techniques define their sound. There is less spontaneity here, but a strong sense of discipline and structure, where national melody becomes part of a carefully controlled sonic framework.

Koma Wetan occupies a very different space. Formed in the 1970s, this Kurdish rock group approached poetry and folklore as tools of cultural assertion. Their psychedelic rock never feels like a stylistic borrowing. Instead it functions as a contemporary vessel for language and themes that might otherwise have remained unheard. Even today these recordings sound fragile and stubborn at the same time.

The Uyghur ensemble Yashlik, closely connected to a musical drama theatre, operated somewhere between stage performance and popular music. Their songs are built on folk melodies but shaped for wide audiences. What emerges is a constant attempt to preserve the recognizability of Uyghur musical identity without freezing it in a folkloric frame. Yashlik's music exists in a state of balance between representation and development.

Digging Central Asia does not attempt to establish hierarchies or offer a single wayof listening. Names and dates matter less than the sound itself. Tape noise, abrupt transitions, and unexpected timbres remain part of the material rather than flaws to be corrected. This music existed at the crossroads of multiple routes geographic, cultural, and ideological. Heard today in a new context, it no longer feels peripheral. Instead it stands as a reminder that the history of popular music is far more fragmented, layered, and polyphonic than it is usually allowed to be."

Nicaraguan-American artist Dagmar Zuniga makes music that feels both intimate and expansive: songs drift like disrupted signals, carried by harmony, tape hiss, and a strong sense of touch. Her debut solo album in filth your mystery is kingdom / far smile peasant in yellow music — written and recorded in New York, Norway, and Athens, Georgia over a period of five years on her longtime companion, the Tascam 424 — was uploaded to Bandcamp and YouTube in January 2025, quickly garnering over two hundred thousand views and the attention of artists such as Mount Eerie, who invited her to tour with them that summer. This year, what was once a jewel of tapped-in algorithms and message boards will meet the world at large, with in filth arriving digitally on March 4, and physically on April 10, via AD 93.

in filth is an atmospheric, devotional collage where one voice multiplies into a chorus of selves, sometimes delicate, sometimes severe; an effect created by Zuniga’s masterful layering of texture and complex harmonies. Synths glitter out like spears of sunlight from beneath clouds of moody, time-distorted guitars, and songs spin about themselves like tightly-wound music boxes, making use of a kind of hypnotic repetition, before melting apart into their components or slipping into the following track.

Zuniga began recording to tape as a teenager, drawn to the physicality of the medium — how a tape recording is fragile, mutable, and alive. Though her ethereal sound may draw easy comparisons to other female pioneers of psychedelic folk, she is influenced just as much by the darker sounds of Syd Barrett and The Fall. Like Barrett, Zuniga is a painter, and she is interested not only in recording music but in creating a full, self-contained artistic universe: she creates her own artwork, merchandise, music videos, and bootleg tapes of new and unfinished music that she exclusively sells at live shows (“If something is not material, it does not exist,” she insists). Her world has not gone unvisited, garnering her a monthly show on NTS Radio ‘World of Pain’, as well as a forthcoming appearance at Rewire Festival in April 2026.

Though Zuniga’s work explores themes of solitude and suffering, the suffering in her songs is not borrowed or displayed; it is held, then opened outward through empathy — an exacting practice of attention that insists on shared ground. Solitude, in her work, is not withdrawal but a starting point for connection. Likewise, over time, her recording process has become increasingly communal, with in filth featuring musicians Hayes Hoey, Austyn Wohlers (Tomato Flower), and Zach Phillips (Fievel Is Glauque). Newer recordings widen the circle even more. For Zuniga, collaboration is a way to “find a place between worlds,” echoing Badiou’s idea of love as a vision refracted through the prism of difference. Meaning emerges there — in the space between voices, between artist and listener. “I hope my music helps people work through difficult experiences,” she says. “The same way it helps me.”

A cocktail of rebellious queer vocal fragments, deceptive percussive granules and swaying hammered vibrations, upsammy and Valentina Magaletti's first collaboration trembles with suspense. The seeds of 'Seismo' were sown following a commission from Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum to soundtrack an exhibition of work from the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen in Rotterdam and the duo didn't want to approach their collaboration flippantly. So, wandering the museum's maze of rooms, they recorded various improvised percussive sounds with their arsenal of microphones, using the space to inform various rhythms and textures that were sculpted later into electroacoustic vignettes. This was just the starting point, though; as Magaletti and upsammy began performing together, the project evolved and 'Seismo' began to take shape. The duo had struck on a salient aesthetic concept, using mostly digital and acoustic mallet instruments to blur the boundary between their roles and create friction between the synthetic and the authentic. And the finished record is a phantasmagoric push-and-pull between its various conflicting elements: harmony and dissonance, randomness and predictability, openness and constraint. 'Seismo' isn't the first time that upsammy has studied her environment in search of revelation. On her acclaimed second album, 2024's 'Germ in a Population of Buildings', the Amsterdam-based DJ, producer and multidisciplinary artist erected her complex, unorthodox rhythms and eerie melodies around a modernist frame of field recordings collected in various cityscapes, countering heavyweight basslines with subtle, microscopic sounds. London-based Italian vanguard Magaletti, meanwhile, has applied her unique logic to innumerable projects at this point, working with everyone from batida icon Nídia and hardcore-dub outfit Moin to French writer Fanny Chiarello and British bass scientist Shackleton. For years she's approached the drums with criticism, attempting to challenge any preconceptions, something that's most visible on 2020's 'A Queer Anthology of Drums'. And both artists' thoughtful perspectives are welded together seamlessly on 'Seismo', a dizzying suite of eight eccentric statements that's fragile but never insecure, gauzy but not indistinct. An unnerving sense of space characterizes 'It Comes to an End' as Magaletti's in situ improvisations herald for upsammy's microscopic glitches and chiming pitch-bent melodies. It's almost unbalancing to witness the track's impossible dimensionality, the interplay between reverberant marimba hits and bone-dry synths, or percussion that's been recorded and processed in consciously different settings. A new architecture emerges in the sound itself that the two artists scan and explore meticulously, testing its boundaries with undulating hybridized rhythms on the invigorating 'Superimposed' and offsetting the powdery drums with liquified smacks and alien voices. The duo's vibrations are knotted with piano flourishes on 'Hyperlocalize', balanced with artificial clanks and clangs that disappear into the track's sonorous atmosphere, replaced by whispers and half-hallucinated insectoid chirps. 'Seismo' is an album that feeds off the energy generated by its juxtapositions: the tension and anticipation that's melted by rapid, hyperactive movement and the finely drawn rhythms disrupted by a layer of indistinct, barely perceptible microsounds. It's a collaboration that sounds like two minds challenging each other but not wrestling, each peering from their own distinct vantage point and imagining a third landscape shaped by optimistic, queer vibrations.

As Selofan's fifth studio album, Vitrioli, from 2018, is a testament to the tragedy of life. The Greek duo, Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, who recorded the album in the Fabrika Records home studio, continue on in their poetic, but heartbreaking, music set to a dance beat. Between languages (Greek, English, German, and Spanish), Selofan feels on the brink of mania with Vitroli. However, the madness is controlled, the songs are restrained hysterics that culminate into the alchemic perfection of the band's specific moody sound.
From synthpop to synthpunk elements, the twelve-track LP leads listeners through dark corridors and into haunted, empty beds. There is a resignation to a doomed destiny with Vitroli—a trait that connects all Selofan releases—as a bitter pain and loneliness that cannot, or will not, subside.

The album begins with "Give Me a Reason" whose lyrics feel universal in this day and age: Give me a reason, to get out of bed / I could just watch the ceiling instead. Its heartbreak is profound as bells and voice pads echo under Joanna's voice. The adjacent music video for the song was directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, and the band describes the video as "depicting the fragile nature, conflicts, emotional demands, and vulnerability of each person in a relationship."
"Billie Was a Vampire" is a story about an undead creature who works at a nightclub followed by the urgency of "Black Box." Brass sounds moan against the fast beat and suggest a frenzied need to escape.

"I'm Addicted" became the second single for the LP. I am addicted, you are mine, Joanna demands of the lover. The music video, also directed by Dimitris Chaz Lee, depicts a clean, white photoshoot primed for the most beautiful creatures of the Athenian wave scene. Alex Macharias, from the legendary Greek band In Trance 95, acts as the photographer for the session, as the models pose and flail under the bright bulbs. The director states: "Addiction is a mental state, something inside all of us. It altered our perception and created a parallel world of avant-garde beings and flashy lights making us part of this everlasting bond."

Double LP pressed on transparent red vinyl with black marbles. In Dying Light: The Beast, you step back into Kyle Crane's skin, but he's no longer the man he once was. Years of experiments have left him torn between fragile humanity and a monstrous power that he can barely control. Every light, every shadow, every choice feels dangerous. The forests and ruins of Castor Woods don't just set the stage, they breathe, they watch, and they punish the reckless. This is survival stripped to the bone, where horror is not just outside, but inside you. Olivier Deriviere's powerful and capturing score for Dying Light: The Beast doesn't just accompany Crane's journey, it is his voice. Sometimes it whispers in empty rooms, fragile and broken, sometimes it roars with distorted rhythms and pounding drums when the Beast takes over. Between silence and sound, the music pulls you deeper into Kyle's fractured soul, making every step and every heartbeat part of the story. It's not just a soundtrack, it's the echo of a man losing, and maybe finding, himself.

Baptized with a name derived from astrophysical theories about dark matter and black holes, THE HOLEUM was formed in 2014 in Alicante, Spain. Founded by former members of NahemaH, Demised, quantumXperience, Hela, Neptunian Sun, and Priest of Dawn, the quintet set out to push the boundaries of heavy music and to intensify the emotional impact of darkness in sound. Their concept is both cosmic and sonic: “THE HOLEUM is related to the dark matter that forms the black holes in the universe. THE HOLEUM is not a black hole, but black holes are formed by The Holeum. That is the idea from which we extract our concept – we are a sonic and cosmic vision of the sublime.” With their third album “Ensis” (2025), the band continues its journey through experimental metal, death doom, melodic metal, and post-metal. This work is more than a continuation – it is a condensation and expansion of their previous soundscape. “Ensis” reveals itself as finely nuanced, challenging, yet at the same time profoundly sensitive and multifaceted. The songs unfold like cosmic landscapes where heaviness and melancholy meet subtle emotionality. The intensity remains palpable, but it is complemented by a deeper sensitivity that draws the listener into a fragile balance between harshness and delicacy. “Ensis” is an album that demands and touches at once – a work that makes the complexity of human existence audible in the mirror of the universe.

I started writing the songs for V at the beginning of 2023, and the demos were finished by the end of that year. While creating this material, I kept returning to one thought: everything we take for granted - everything that feels stable and permanent - is, in reality, incredibly fragile. Nothing lasts forever, and the sense of things slipping away can hit much sooner than we expect. I tried to translate those feelings into sound. At that time, a lot of difficult things were happening in my life, things I didn't know how to cope with. Music became a form of therapy - a way to process emotions I couldn't express in any other way. In early 2024, we began working through the songs together as a full band. After finalizing the arrangements, we spent the rest of the year recording them. The process stretched over many months, split into several sessions across different studios. I didn't want to rush anything. I wanted, as always, to refine every detail the best we possibly could. Soon you'll be able to hear the result for yourselves. For me, this album is something deeply personal. It's an act of opening up to anyone who chooses to listen - a glimpse into things I can't fully describe with words, into what I felt and who I became during that period. I'm incredibly happy that together with my friends from the band, we've created another record. What comes next_ time will tell.

Magenta Vinyl, limited to 450 copies. I started writing the songs for V at the beginning of 2023, and the demos were finished by the end of that year. While creating this material, I kept returning to one thought: everything we take for granted - everything that feels stable and permanent - is, in reality, incredibly fragile. Nothing lasts forever, and the sense of things slipping away can hit much sooner than we expect. I tried to translate those feelings into sound. At that time, a lot of difficult things were happening in my life, things I didn't know how to cope with. Music became a form of therapy - a way to process emotions I couldn't express in any other way. In early 2024, we began working through the songs together as a full band. After finalizing the arrangements, we spent the rest of the year recording them. The process stretched over many months, split into several sessions across different studios. I didn't want to rush anything. I wanted, as always, to refine every detail the best we possibly could. Soon you'll be able to hear the result for yourselves. For me, this album is something deeply personal. It's an act of opening up to anyone who chooses to listen - a glimpse into things I can't fully describe with words, into what I felt and who I became during that period. I'm incredibly happy that together with my friends from the band, we've created another record. What comes next_ time will tell.

Vic Bang's "Oda" arrives quietly - it was waiting for the right moment. The eight tracks are shaped by listening, by circling around sound instead of chasing it... you can definitely hear patience in the pacing, a willingness to let ideas linger, to let all the small motifs breathe.

The album moves with a softer and more deliberate rhythm than much of Vic's earlier work, as the sound world here feels concentrated and cohesive, built from a limited set of elements that gradually reveal themselves. Melodies unfold without too much fuss, textures repeat and mutate very subtly and the whole record holds together like a single extended thought.

The title Oda - or "ode" in English - hints at devotion, but not in any grand or ceremonial way. These pieces seem devoted to sound itself: to tone, to gesture, to fragile and simple musical forms. There's a gentle melancholy running through the album, but also clarity, even tenderness. Each track is dedicated to something - a timbre, a rhythm, a resonance - living up to the title's etymology.

All Music composed by Victoria Barca in Buenos Aires, Argentina, between 2024 and 2025.

Saxophone (3) by Camila Nebbia
Vocal samples by Catu Hardoy and Nicolás Said
Cello samples by Gabriela Areal

Mastered by Adam Badi Donoval

Front cover relief "Endulzando el oído" by Victoria Barca
Back cover photo by Indira Seoane
Design and layout by Paulina Ufnal and Janek Ufnal

Siavash Amini is a composer from Tehran, Iran. He Has worked with labels like Room40, Hallow Ground, Opal Tapes and Umor Rex for the better half of the past ten years. He has performed at festivals like CTM & MUTEK and many other well known international events. Apart from it Siavash is a co-founder of the “SET experimental art events” and “SETfest” in Tehran, Iran. His work ranges from fragile ambient pieces and brittle IDM (incorporating his distinctive style of atmospheric guitar playing) to noisy drones and bleak modern classical pieces. His compositions have been inspired by films such as Andrei Tarkovsky's The Mirror as well as novels by Dostoyesvky and poems by T.S. Eliot.

Saffronkeira is the Sardinian sound researcher Eugenio Caria being active in the electronic music scene since almost two decades. His most recent work - a cooperation with the Italian jazz trumpet legend Paolo Fresu - earned a lot of praise from the international music press for the pure timelessness of the album.

"Upon hearing a small snippet of sound an image is conjured, not a memory but not unfamiliar. A shell of a memory, thousand events superimposed on each other. While trying to extract points of a narrative to ease the discomfort of this recollection, I try to separate and unfold the image and with it the points of the spectrum which make up the sound, a shell of a narrative. Here is an album based upon an almost entirely imagined/ synthesized happening upon hearing a snippet of sound. It sounded like of a whole story that never happened but yet I felt myself amongst it’s participants, a sound triggering a false memory. Each sound in Eugenio’s collection of sounds and ideas guided me a to a point in the narrative and it’s construction. He had handed me a portals of some kind to a few scenes of the whole narrative. This is the soundtrack for that false memory from all the perspectives I can think of."

Stoop Kid is the jangly indie rock project of Diest-born Jens Rubens. After Camp Careful (2021) and Mount Cope (2023), Stoop Kid returns with his third full-length album Office Overdue, a ten-song collection that captures the quiet fatigue, flickering humor, and
fragile hope of keeping it together in a world that won't slow down.

'Office Overdue' is a collection of songs Jens made at home in his modest home studio. For this album, he wanted to let go of pressure and expectations more than ever, and only work on music when he genuinely felt like it.No fancy studio, no producer, just walking upstairs and messing around. The result doesn't always sound perfectly polished: the drums are sometimes clumsily programmed and more than a few wrong notes made it onto the record. The guitars were allowed to hit a bit harder this time, with the '90s slacker vibes coming through more prominently. The result is a record that feels raw and honest, and above all, was made purely out of enthusiasm.

Office Overdue explores the attempt to keep functioning in everyday life while the world around us feels on the verge of collapse. The songs move between mental exhaustion and self-reflection, carried by a dry, sometimes bitter humour that helps lighten the weight. The album focuses on repetition and routine, and on the tension between wanting to care for others and being trapped inside one's own head. Themes of anxiety, guilt and dissociation recur throughout, but are always accompanied by small moments of connection, gentle resistance and acceptance. Office Overdue embraces the mess, the doubt and the false notes, without drawing grand conclusions. Not everything is resolved, but the persistence remains.

London-via-Accra artist BLACK FONDU shares his seven-track debut EP ‘BLACKFONDUISM’, following the underground momentum of singles ‘im not sleeping’ and the Steve Lamacq BBC 6 Music-premiered ‘holla back girl’. Available on vinyl, and with a self-directed video for ‘#music’, the project marks the first full expression of a voice emerging as one of the UK’s most uncompromising new forces.

‘BLACKFONDUISM’ captures that evolution in its rawest form. The EP came together quickly through instinct and freestyling, recorded between his room in London and a short period in Paris. Each track reflects a world he understood only after living through it. ‘IN D4 CLUB’ channels the exhilaration of acceleration, ‘BOYS’ explores the foundation provided by maternal love, ‘im not sleeping’ confronts denial after more than twenty revisions, ‘C00N V2’ marks a moment of creative rebirth, and ‘BLACK1E’ navigates the tension between self-perception and the world’s gaze. Closing track ‘#music’ distills the entire project into one statement.

Working alone has brought challenges, but he has learned to trust the emotional volatility that fuels the work. “I care so much and would die for this, but I cannot let it kill me. I have to trust myself the same way I trust myself when I make music.”

At 21, BLACK FONDU has carved out a sound that collides hyperpop, noise, rap, punk energy and abstract grime into something instinctive and volatile. Influenced by everything from Rachmaninoff to MF DOOM to Xiu Xiu, he writes, produces and performs every element, including the fractured visuals that accompany his tracks. Praise from BBC 6 Music, Pitchfork, NME, The Quietus, Pigeons & Planes, METAL and Line of Best Fit has positioned him as one of the most intriguing new voices in the UK underground, with explosive live shows across London, the UK and Europe.

With BLACKFONDUISM, he introduces a universe that refuses to sit still. “I wanted this EP to act as an introduction to my worlds. It felt important to put this out so I can do anything after.” He hopes listeners feel alive when they hear it, and jokes that he wants the record to “evolve music, even just a little.”

BLACK FONDU’s sound remains a paradox, abrasive and fragile, chaotic and meticulous, always guided by instinct. Or, as he puts it, “A bit fucked. But alive.”

Her natural command on stage, paired with a voice that feels quietly seasoned, has made her one of the most exciting young live musicians emerging from the region. Now, with her first release, a double single featuring the raw, one-take folk recording 'Poison Ivy' and the dreamlike, psychedelic shimmer of 'Forget About' -- Grant introduces the full spectrum of her sound. One track close to the bone, the other lost in a dream, both unmistakably hers. 'Poison Ivy' was recorded when Grant was just 16, in a spontaneous midnight session after finally playing her songs to her dad. With only one microphone, no click, and a single take, the track became a time capsule of her earliest songwriting voice -- fragile, real, and impossible to recreate.

Now featuring Dan Bridgewood-Hill's evocative violin, it stands as a folk recording filled with warmth, instinct and unfiltered emotion. "I tried re-recording it," she says, "but nothing touched the magic of that first take." In contrast, 'Forget About' showcases Grant's emerging production instincts. Influenced by Zero 7, the song began as a kitchen jam before evolving into a lush mix of psychedelic keys, airy electronics and indie- rock textures. Self- recorded in Logic, the track reveals a new dimension to her writing, cinematic and rhythmically hypnotic

"Only a clarinet sings – minimal, quivering, wavering. Breathing mad notes in the cracks between notes, weaving a dazed, fuzzy kind of magic. The latest recordings by Museum of No Art are tripping – floating in suspense, somewhere out in the irrational corners of the world inhabited by the haunted elegance of Ben Bertrand or Bernhard Herrmann. But still, entirely her own – a quiet revolt of classical clichés in search of a new dawn for lunatic woodwinds. She sings through her instrument and it sings to her. It carries her, and she lets it. A distinctive timbre tumbling through tonal fog. Four freely formed compositions for dispari. One petite and tempting. Two mid-length wanderers – teetering, wobbling. And one epic piercer. All drifting in inspiring airs. Ephemeral, nebulous, fragile, like the desolate candy snowman, melting on a warm tongue, threatened with complete dissolution. Fleeting like a stolen glimpse of the intimate curve of an anonymous stranger’s neck."

“There's a clarity here that feels hard-won. Honing ideas first explored with his Organic Music series, Tiago Sousa unlocks the final puzzle pieces on Sustained Tones Vol 1. This music is enchanted, the way each layer moves in conjunction with the others: complex structures that feel less constructed than discovered, like stumbling upon ancient mechanisms still whirring beneath the earth. "Readily Reliance" opens as an effervescent sea, waves gilded in neon creating an enveloping sense of eternal motion. Bright organ timbres throw silhouettes and cast Sousa as the deft puppeteer keeping everything moving with an effortless precision. These evolving shapes suspend listeners somewhere between the physical and the cosmic, held in place by nothing but intention and sound.

Drones build rippling foundations in other places, using slower tempos to construct immersive, off-kilter sound worlds where minimalism becomes emotive, almost poignant. The fluctuating tones have a gossamer sheen, creating this interesting sonic dichotomy: a solid surface with fragile rotations beneath. It's music that commands attention; it is so much more than simply aural furniture. Sousa writes these beautiful sequences that are all interconnected, intricate sonic architecture that pulls us further into some kind of unknowable ether.

On the piano pieces, "Smooth Flow Into It" and "Swirling Mist and Thin Dust," Sousa shines sunlight through all the cracks. Washes of melody are effervescent, clouds clearing to reveal the day has not gone. Not yet. Positioned in the middle of Sustained Tones Vol 1, these pieces ground the album in something transcendent yet still earthen: moments of breath inside all that cosmic drift. Darkness finds its way through on "Restlessness," where Sousa smears sinuous electronics into a ghostly sonic mesh that seeps through the skin. It feels like a slow inhale, time suspended long enough to take note of where we are and how we feel before moving forward. Expressive, almost sparkling synth arrangements return to send us back into reality on closer "Becoming a Landscape." Its title hints at larger concepts at play throughout this album, where lines between our physical beings and the wider environment are blurred. The tones that echo throughout these six pieces mirror the echoes inside our bodies, from heartbeats and voices to something quieter, something much smaller and more elemental. By immersing us inside these mesmerising, beautiful soundscapes, Sousa immerses us within ourselves.’’

Brad Rose, 2025

Yes's 1972 3-track recording masterpiece, Close to the Edge, presents a snapshot of an adventurous rock band at the peak of its powers, daring to push itself musically, both as individuals and as a unit.

The first half of the 1970s was an especially fertile period for British progressive rock, laying claim to classics such as Tarkus, Selling England by the Pound, Larks' Tongues in Aspic, The Dark Side of the Moon, and Thick as a Brick. Collectively these and other works represent the best British progressive rock had to offer. Yet, many reviewers cite Close to the Edge as the ultimate prog rock album.

Author and music journalist Will Romano writes: "Yes had previously penned epic tracks for The Yes Album and Fragile, but nothing on the magnitude of the musical gems appearing on Close to the Edge. It's something of a small miracle — perhaps even magic — that the virtuoso quintet crafted such a cohesive and compelling album during an often-hectic recording process that very nearly relegated this monumental work to the dustbin of history."

The album's centrepiece is the 18-minute title track, with themes and lyrics inspired by the Herman Hesse novel Siddhartha. Side two contains two non-conceptual tracks, the folk-inspired "And You and I" and the comparatively straightforward rocker "Siberian Khatru." Original drummer Bill Bruford found the album particularly laborious to make, which culminated in his decision to quit the band after it was recorded, to join King Crimson.

Close to the Edge became the band's greatest commercial success at the time of release. It peaked at No. 4 on the U.K. Albums Chart and No. 3 on the Billboard 200 in the United States, the highest position Yes has reached on the latter chart.

In 2020, Close to the Edge was ranked at No. 445 on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

Mastered by Kevin Gray at Cohearent Audio. Pressed on 180-gram vinyl at Quality Record Pressings, and housed in a tip-on old style gatefold double pocket jacket with textured stock by Stoughton Printing.