Cerca:oddly

Detroit’s Filthiest presents Oddly Satisfying, a collection of ghettotech, electro, and techno tracks never released on vinyl before. This collection showcases why he is the king of kings in the underground scene. Imitated but never duplicated.

MAXED OUT MAXI EP OF THE HIGHEST ORDER FROM TAPES, HONOURING JAHTARI'S 20 YEARS OF D.I.G.I.T.A.L. BUSINESS IN FINEST STYLE...LOADED WITH RIB-8-BIT PRESSURE!

Four digital dancehall scorchers with two accompanying 8-bit versions meticulously crafted with the soundsystem session in mind!

Tapes has been spreading wonky saturated riddim goodness since his ground breaking “Hissing Theatricals” EP in 2009. Now, after a brief hibernation in the northern spawning pools, he’s spinning up his reels once again to present a new killer set of amphibian friendly, nintendo-fied sound system depth charges!

The “Photos of My Frog EP” is croaking off with its oddly addictive namesake: a surefire pond party starter – Ribbit! Hopping along, the adorable but tuff “Cleat Skank” and its gameboy driven pollywog follow, swinging their 8bit melody lasso till the cows come home. Yeehaw!

“Ramp Up” on B is a dense and raw FM synth digi banger, sure to fry any nearby circuits, so best beware! “Back Cramp Riddim” then turns up the low end even more and swirls its drums and synths into the next delay vortex, warping into a pixelated 8bit conclusion.

Whatever your taste in insects there’s something on this record for any lover of vintage dancehall and amphibious wild life alike!

These are going to fly out - sticky tongues at the ready!

The year is 1989 and it's the peak of the Belgium New Beat craze. Not limited to records and clubs, the New Beat lifestyle was marketed to death with all sorts of fashion items, a plethora of accessories, and at least one erotic movie.

Fast forward a few decades. In the middle of nowhere, Switzerland, tucked inside a long-forgotten video store that closed its doors in 1999 and sat untouched for 20 years, we stumbled upon a strange treasure amongst tons of VHS hidden in the adult section. A mysterious VHS labeled "Erotiques New Beat."

What we found was pure 1989 Belgian erotica-low budget, fog-drenched, and neon-soaked. Minimalist sets. Girls in PVC. Flashing lights. Mirrors. Fog machines. Loud colors. It was erotic, sure-but also oddly sweet, almost innocent in its surreal, lo-fi dreaminess.

And then came the soundtrack.

That's what really floored us. A collection of New Beat gems, raw, simple, irresistible. Somehow, it captured the full spectrum of the genre: 100-110 bpm grooves with shades of EBM, sleazy coldwave rhythms, sensual synths, proto-Goa pulses, monk choirs, oriental melodies, and a healthy dose of movie samples. It felt alive. Timeless. Utterly perfect.

We had to know more. We dug, tracked down the source, and in 2020, reissued the soundtrack on vinyl. It sold out fast. Now, five years later, we thought about pressing one final batch. A special edition on picture disc, featuring the original smileys from the VHS.

Limited 2025 Repress
Black Truffle is pleased to announce the release of Ichida, the first release from the duo of two important yet often underappreciated musicians, Eiko Ishibashi and Darin Gray. Ishibashi is a singer-songwriter, keyboardist, drummer, and multi-instrumentalist, known in Japan both for her own elaborately conceptual solo albums and for her frequent collaborations with figures such as Jim O'Rourke, Merzbow, and Phew. Darin Gray is a bassist and multi-instrumentalist known for a multitude of collaborations (with O'Rourke and Loren Connors, among many others), for On Fillmore, his cinematic post-exotica project with Glenn Kotche, and as one half of Chikamorachi with Chris Corsano, one of the finest free-jazz rhythm sections around. Presenting the entirely of a live set performed at Tokyo's Super Deluxe in March 2013, the set begins as a duet for Ishibashi's flute and Gray's upright bass. Calmly melodic yet harmonically inventive, with shades of 'spiritual jazz', the pair's acoustic ruminations are gradually joined by Ishibashi's lush electronics, which randomly flicker between chords in a manner recalling the classic work of David Behrman. As the electronics build into a gloomy fog of slowly cycling loops, Gray lays his bass aside and turns to making strangely mournful interjections on a mouthpiece. Eventually Ishibashi moves to the piano, enveloping the audience in rippling pools of sustained, octave-doubled melody, provided by Gray's bass with a fluid and dynamic foundation. For much of the second side, both Ishibashi and Gray turn to electronics, ultimately arriving in a bizarre space of melancholic arpeggios and random sputter and sizzle, oddly reminiscent of 70s outsider prog acts like Wapassou. An uneasy coda of rich piano chords ends the set. Captured in warm room ambience and beautifully mixed by Jim O'Rourke, Ichida is a rare combination of improvisational acumen and emotional directness, both adventurous and immediately accessible.

DJ support: Tim Sweeney, Make A Dance, Parris, Pleasure Voyage, Camillo Miranda

Back yard - Back yard is the first single from the new Teen Daze album, Elegant rhythms, and features singer-songwriter Andy Shauf on drums, and LA jazz staple, Sam Wilkes, on bass. This is a stark change in sound for Teen Daze, who’s last album Interior was an exploration of neon-lit House music. Back yard is a mellow groover, conjuring up images of Laurel Canyon in the 70s, yet still with its flourishes of contemporary sounds.

We’re out of phase again - We’re out of phase again is another vulnerable glimpse into the inner world of Teen Daze, and marks the release of his most personal album to date, Elegant rhythms. In contrast to the synthesized, digital world of his prior album, Interior, here we’ve been brought into a lush, organic arrangement, brought to you in large part to the stunning bass playing by Sam Wilkes. While the verses pulse forward, the chorus slows things down, and evokes the sophisti-pop sounds of The Blue Nile. This track is a stunning showcase of the world of Elegant rhythms.

Nothing’s gonna change my love - Teen Daze returns with his second single of the year, Nothing’s gonna change my love. The stark change in sound, as heard on previous single Back yard, is on display here again: a smouldering, 2 and a half minutes of slow jazz-pop, indebted to the great Sade, or perhaps the feeling of leaving downtown LA at 2 AM. Lyrically, we hear a story of a love, challenged by the unpredictable nature of our lives. This may be Teen Daze’s smoothest song to date.

Neighbourhood - Neighbourhood is the third single from the recently announced LP from Teen Daze, Elegant Rhythms. Along with Andy Shauf on the drums, and Sam Wilkes on the bass, Teen Daze gives us a languid tour of his quiet neighbourhood. The sun has set on the pleasant, tree-lined streets, and a stranger, more surreal environment presents itself. The song plods forward at an extremely comfortable pace, held down by the paradoxically loose-yet-tight rhythm section. Lyrically, we walk around the Neighbourhood at night, and while the chorus reveals a type of sobriety, the vibe of the song makes it easy to feel a little…effected.

Fade away - Fade away sets the tone for Elegant Rhythm’s side B: a deeply personal, though somewhat veiled, confession of loss. How does it feel to grieve something that was never really here? A smouldering, slowly progressing first half erupts in synthetic noise, and then fades into the ether with it’s repeating refrain, “I can feel you / feel you fade away / when there’s nothing / nothing left to say”.

Fall ahead - A sweet piano tune which serves as a quiet break in the record, intended to help the listener reflect and take a moment of pause before we reach the final two songs on the album.

HST underwater - The penultimate track on the record tells a story where the narrator finds themself in an alien, yet oddly familiar place. Arpeggios soaked in crystal blue water flow through the stereo field, while the narrator, vocoded and drenched in autotune, searches for meaning and purpose in a confusing world. This is one of Teen Daze’s most cinematic, emotional songs yet.

In the rain - It’s never really made explicitly clear on this record, but a lot of these songs find Teen Daze wrestling with life as a new father, and this song, the final on the album, expresses the fears of generational trauma. A touching, tender ode to his children, we hear Teen Daze at his most personal and vulnerable. The falling rain surrounds some absolutely breathtaking bass playing from Sam Wilkes, and Teen Daze’s signature ambient keyboard sounds.

Radio Support: Ruf Dug (Soup To Nuts on NTS)

The moons of Saturn are the inspiration for this brooding, often soaring and searching odyssey of dark electronica.

The second largest planet in the solar system after Jupiter, and the sixth planet from the sun, Saturn is orbited by 53 confirmed moons, with another 29 that are unnamed and still being studied.

Saturnian is a suite of thirteen choral tracks taking their names from some of Saturn's known moons; Dione, Daphnis, Phoebe, Prometheus, Rhea, Janus, Titan, Enceladus, Tethys, Telesto, Mimas, Hyperion and Iapetus, all named after figures from Greek and Roman mythology, each loaded with their own turbulent back stories. It is the debut release by Holmes + atten Ash, written, recorded and produced remotely in Edinburgh and Bristol by the duo Simon Holmes and Paul Nash.

Their project began during the 2020 lockdown. For Simon, time was spent exploring the Pentland Hills south of Edinburgh. For Paul, the Mendip Hills, south of Bristol. Both would experience the darker side of our human impact on the environment. Simon observed the wilderness as a wasteland, finding discarded, rusting metal littering the Pentland Hills while Paul witnessed the decimation of the ancient woodland of the Mendips' King's Wood due to the destructive tree fungus ash dieback.

These field trips fuelled a desire to navigate not just the landscape, but the duo's emotional place within it. Their collaboration led to a concept album that explores the outer reaches of the solar system, while simultaneously grounding them in a specific place. Looking inwards as much as outwards, theycreated soundscapes based on deeply imagined and felt connections to their surroundings.

After Simon had created a choral piece to accompany Luke Jerram's enormous, world touring artwork Museum of the Moon, Saturnian was a natural progression. When Simon was sent an initial score for the ethereal track Enceladus, composed by Paul in Bristol, he added choral arrangements recorded in Edinburgh. Their shimmering, tense opus continued to evolve from there. Just as the discarded bed springs and abandoned car parts that Simon stumbled upon in the Pentland Hills seemed to him at once "horrible but also oddly beautiful", Saturnian melds together melancholy and levity, fusing moments of dark angst with a celestial calm.

Opening with the glistening, hopeful brightness of Dione, increasingly urgent rhythms give way to digital, otherworldly calls from what might be rainforest creatures chirping into life with robotic squawks and delicate keyboard lines on Phoebe, followed by slowed down, monastic song on Rhea. Tethys is a hypnotic blur of synthesiser and soft chanting, while Rhea is a mysterious, echoing chasm, lifted by melodic, gentle male vocals. Janus has a glowing, effervescent energy, swiftly followed by a sense of tension on Titan, which throbs with driving percussive unease.

The album artwork is a pencil drawing created by Edinburgh artist Simon Kirby. It was made by a robot drawing machine, using custom algorithms that bring to life recordings of the sound of magnetic waves near Saturn's icy moon, Enceladus. The lines in the centre of the drawing are distorted by sound captured by the Cassini spacecraft which studied Saturn for over a decade.

Much like Saturn and its frozen, rocky moons, this debut album from Holmes + atten Ash is mysterious and beguiling, with a hint of foreboding in the depths of its powerful beauty and epic scale.

2025 Repress

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

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

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

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

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

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

For here lies one of the most influential bands in the realm of gothic metal, a group with doom and death metal roots that has flourished for over three decades, boasting thirteen albums that have garnered devoted acclaim. This injustice is now being set right by The Circle Music , beginning with the vinyl release of the classic album "Burning: A Wish", which emerged twenty-four years ago. "Burning: A Wish", released in the twilight of the year 2001, stands as a dark reliquary of dreams lost to the velvet fog of melancholy. To revisit it now, two dozen years later, is to unseal a time capsule of gothic ache, doom- laced longing, and the tormented tenderness that only Lacrimas Profundere could conjure at their creative height. It was a candle-lit corridor between worlds. A slow fall into velvet shadows. A scream muffled by rain.

By the time "Burning: A Wish" was released, Lacrimas Profundere had already begun to evolve from their early death- doom origins, shaping their identity with the sophistication of seasoned mourners. The death growls had receded, replaced by the haunted, baritone croon of Christopher Schmid, whose voice is an echo from a chapel ruined by time. Yet, while the growls faded, the emotional gravitas remained intact, transmuted into melody, into baroque gloom, into something more sorrowfully refined. Produced with lush, theatrical clarity, the album never drowns in its own atmosphere, it breathes with it, moves with it. The soundscape is dominated by somber guitar textures, languid tempos, and subtle orchestral touches. From the very first notes, it is clear that this is music for ruined lovers and moon-drenched graveyards.

This is the hallmark of Lacrimas Profundere 's style: an emotional minimalism that does not explain or elaborate, but merely opens wounds and lets them breathe. That this album has remained, until now, absent from the warm embrace of vinyl is both tragic and oddly poetic. For what format better suits a record such as this than the one that cracks and hisses like an old seance? Vinyl is tactile, intimate. It requires attention, reverence. To place Burning: A Wish on a turntable is to light a candle in the dark.

This 1983 period in which Gyllensköld was recorded was a fantastic time for the evolution of Steven Stapleton’s audio art. His collaborations with Diana Rogerson, Robert Haigh (Sema), David Tibet, and Thirlwell around this time elicited some of the most exciting work Nurse With Wound had yet recorded. Listen to this material and compare it to Chance Meeting and it becomes clear that in just a few years, Stapleton’s art had grown by leaps and bounds. The production quality on these tracks is remarkable, and the widening out of the NWW soundworld opened up a whole new audio toybox that Stapleton has continued to experiment with up to today. This new sound encompasses vocal experiments, vintage LPs of easy listening music, demented nursery rhymes, lateral references to disposable pop music, avant-garde jazz and minimalistic piano composition, all glued together with evocative atmospheres redolent of things unholy, troubling and perverse, but always oddly indefinable and puzzlingly misshapen. In retrospect, Gyllensköld can be seen as the beginning of the “mature” period of NWW, and thus it is an indispensible release for fans of the project. : Brainwashed

Guitars On Life solves a nagging mystery about the fate of a musician who stood out as a singularly spectacular bloom even in the verdant creative fields of the San Francisco Bay Area at the turn of the century. After more than two decades of recording silence and about a dozen years away from the bandstand, Jack West is back, still immediately recognizable as a guitarist and composer but miles from the last stop on his ongoing musical journey. There’s poetic symmetry in discovering that his detour from life as a performing musician involved fruitful work devising innovative solar technologies, as he had similarly distinguished himself as an inveterately inventive musician. When we last heard from West he’d carved out a vibrant niche as a guitarist with a percussive attack and lustrous group sound. Wielding a custom-built eight-string acoustic guitar with uncommon rhythmic dexterity, he released six albums featuring his original tunes, mostly recording with his band Curvature (though he also played mesmerizing solo recitals). West’s knack for crafting glistening, minutely detailed soundscapes full of surprising twists and oddly inviting textures prompted NPR to describe his work as “a whole new sub- genre of jazz.” Drawn back to performing in recent years, West saw guitarist Walter Strauss at Berkeley’s Freight & Salvage in 2022 and suspected he’d found a kindred spirit. Intrigued by Strauss’s unusual approach to guitar, West “wondered what a musical conversation might sound like between two guitarists who had developed such uniquely different ways of playing the instrument.” An invitation to play together led to them writing the tune ‘More Guitar,’ the bravura opening track that launches Guitars On Life. Several months later they spent a week in Florida together writing intensively, resulting in most of the material for this consistently thrilling project.

Cornel Wilczek (Talk To Me, Bring Her Back) crafts an incredible score for this body horror future classic from director Michael Shanks, blending the organic and synthetic, merging them to create something new, mesmerising, calm, eerie yet beautiful and oddly melodic. Disembodied voices flow in and out of soundscapes made up of traditional acoustic instruments, strings, and synthesisers. At first listen, the score seems very minimalist, but with repeated listening, it reveals these amazing earworms that stick in your mind. It’s a truly lovely, otherworldly listen, ideal for late nights and headphones.

An’archives presents Kagome Kagome, the first collaboration between France’s Delphine Dora and Japan’s Ayami Suzuki. Curious listeners might know Dora from the string of lovely, idiosyncratic albums she’s released over the past two decades, most recently for labels like Modern Love, Morc and Recital; she’s also worked with the likes of Michel Henritzi and Sophie Cooper. Suzuki’s performances, predominantly for voice, place her within a tradition of Japanese improvised music – see the music she’s made with artists such as Takashi Masubuchi, TOMO and Leo Okagawa – but her approach also takes in folk song, ambience and claustrophobic drone.

On Kagome Kagome, Dora and Suzuki play to their many strengths: a gentle, free-willed folksiness; long, aerated drone constructs; ghostly, time-warping explorations for voice. They met on Dora’s May 2024 tour of Japan, though they’d been in touch beforehand, with Dora proposing the collaboration to Suzuki, developed around “concepts of ‘otherworldliness’ and ‘impermanence’,” the latter says, “and explored the relationship between ‘the invisible’ and sound in Japanese culture – a common interest we share.”

They recorded across several days that month, with the sessions for Kagome Kagome taking place in Kanumi, in Tochigi prefecture, at a space named Center. “I was particularly looking forward to seeing Delphine encounter the vintage 104-year-old harmonium from Nippon Gakki Seizo Co. that had just been repaired at Center,” Suzuki recalls. “It was as if the harmonium had been waiting for Delphine to draw sound from it. I felt it was a beautiful relationship where they could guide each other.”

Indeed, there’s something channelled about the music that Dora and Suzuki made together in the session that constitutes Kagome Kagome. Dora’s harmonium might be the spine of the album, but Suzuki’s free- floating voice, and gaseous, muddied banks of electronics, wrap around the wheezing, ancient tonality of the harmonium beautifully – they, too, sound as though they were just waiting to be willed out of the daytime air. Their voices nestle together beautifully – “when we sang together in a tunnel,” Suzuki says, “there were times when we sang the exact same melody without planning. It happened so naturally that the boundaries between us became blurred.”

And that title? It’s drawn from a Japanese children’s song, and the song titles themselves constitute the song’s lyrics, in alternating Japanese (Romanized) and French language. Urban legend connects the song “Kagome Kagome” to the Nikko Toshogu Shrine, nearby Center, that Suzuki and Dora visited while they were in Kanumi. “The mysterious lyrics of ‘Kagome Kagome’ and its puzzle-like connection to Nikko Toshogu were a perfect fit for this mysterious album,” Suzuki reflects, “which I think has its own kind of puzzle-like elements.”

A deep album of prayer and magic, of divination and ritual, Kagome Kagome’s sense of serious play, its rich beauty, feels somehow dislocated from our time. If you’ve ever enjoyed the music of Nico, Kendra Smith, Charalambides, or other channelers of ghostly mystery, its eerie otherness will, somehow, feel oddly familiar.

In this episode of Didschn, Super Flu, Marc Werner, Gustavo Ibarra, and Xotto all wake up in the same house—strangers to one another, yet oddly familiar. Outside the windows: nothing. Just endless white fog, no sky, no ground, no exit. Each room in the house seems tailored to a specific memory. Marc hears a melody he hasn’t written yet. Gustavo sees pages from a book he never published. Xotto finds paintings he doesn‘t remember creating. Super Flu, silent and calm, senses the rhythm of the place—like the entire house is part of a song stuck on repeat. They soon realize they’re trapped in a loop—a cycle built from fragments of their unrealized futures. Every attempt to escape resets the house. The key lies in finishing what was never started. A song. A word. A brushstroke. As they collaborate, the fog lifts. And just before waking—Super Flu whispers: „Some loops aren’t broken. They’re completed.

Following their rattling 45 Cry / I’ll Be There Now and the wiry full-length My Mother Was a Friend of an Enemy of the People, Blurt returns to All City with Mecanno Giraffe - a new 12" capturing Ted Milton’s band of beat-punk absurdists in full, surreal stride.

The A-side delivers the title track: Mecanno Giraffe, a spiky, off-kilter groove threaded with Milton’s unmistakable bark, rhythmic sax blurts, and angular momentum that feels both mechanical and oddly animal. It’s Blurt as alwaya: driving, dry-witted, and defiantly out of sync with any prevailing trends.

On the flip, Milton shifts gear with a number of spoken word pieces. Stripped bare, intimate, incantatory. More Artaud than Allen, these pieces reveal another facet of Blurt’s singular frontman, echoing threads found in recent interviews tracing his ongoing collision of poetry, punk, and performance.

Third strike on the label and still no sign of softening. Mecanno Giraffe proves that Blurt still remains gloriously out of step, part animal, part machine!.

There’s something oddly comforting in the idea of a dead star still sending signals — distant, mechanical, yet somehow filled with meaning. Inertia and the whole record, tap into that contradiction: the sensation of being impossibly far from home, yet still drawn toward something vast, unseen, and filled with memory.

Written & produced by Dangkhoa Chau
Mastered by Stefan Betke at Scapemastering
Vinyl pressed at AFG Record Manufacturing
Distributed by Readymade Distribution
Curation & artwork by Severja

Drag City and Yoga Records are delighted to return to the music of Matthew Young. Following Recurring Dreams (1981, reissued 2014) and Traveler"s Advisory (1986, reissued 2010), Undercurrents (2025) collects eight oddly dissimilar pieces that somehow fit together perfectly. Ranging from heady synthesizer experiments to earthy dulcimer meditations, Undercurrents is unique enough to be called outsider while still occupying a musical world accessible to fans of many genres. Composed and recorded over the span of several decades, Undercurrents displays the wide range of Young"s various sonic pallets: similar to Recurring Dreams, the electronic landscapes meander coherently, and much like Traveler"s Advisory, the album skews from the nearly algorithmic computer music of side one to the moving pastoral folk of the second.

Berlin-based French-Irish multimedia artist Zoe Mc Pherson levels up on their third full-length "Pitch Blender", mangling years of experience DJing and performing live into a tight set of cybernetic soundsystem experiments that flicker between the rave and the art space.

Cast your mind back to February 2020 for a moment, when Mc Pherson released their last album "States of Fugue". The world seemed less tangled somehow, and yet Mc Pherson's precision-engineered fusion of exploratory sound design and visceral club pressure seemed to hint at a cataclysmic event none of us were really expecting. Only a few weeks after its release the world changed forever, and the majority of us were grounded - forced to consider our lives and the movement (or lack thereof) surrounding us. The philosophy of this extended time period is welded into the bones of "Pitch Blender", Mc Pherson's supple third album. They have learned plenty in the last two years, and infuse all of that anxiety and spiky emotionality into a spread of tracks that sound as powerful in headphones as they do over a well-tweaked soundsystem, soldering vocals, environmental recordings and instrumental flourishes to unpredictably pneumatic, cybernetic beats.

Anyone that's caught one of Mc Pherson's energetic live performances over the last few months will have an idea of what "Pitch Blender" is made of. They're an artist who's somehow able to match the raw energy of post-punk and no-wave music with the brain-altering potential of the best experimental club tracks, vocalizing an incongruous post-lockdown reality over beats that sound as if they're in a permanent state of flux. 'On Fire' splutters to life in a frenetic patter of drums that blur into oddly soothing hoover sounds, snaking lysergically towards a drop that's teased constantly, and never comes. We're forced to wait until 'The Spark' for that, fighting through choppy, pitch-mangled guitar and rolling beats until a gruesome kick drum forces its way through the psilocybin mists and heaving Bristol-inspired bass clonks. Backed up with just the inverted traces of recognizable breaks, this vigorous pulse lies at the heart of "Pitch Blender", the driving force that powers Mc Pherson's sound even when it's only hinted at.

'Blender' is the moment where Mc Pherson show their full hand, using crackling sound effects, ghost vocals and uneven rhythms to build a textural landscape that's so evocative you can almost taste it. Squealing modular synth effects sound like gameshow buzzers being triggered in another dimension and propel the track forward - it's club music, just about, but Mc Pherson's motivation is world-building, and their world is colorful, abstract, and dizzyingly surreal. "Obsolete user," their voice echoes over driving airlock kicks. But they take a swift left turn with 'Lamella', reducing the kinetic club rhythms to a longing simmer and letting loose with powerful vocals, intoning with robotic, gender-fluxed intensity. On 'Wait', New York City's clacking crosswalk signal - already an effective club track on its own - is transformed into a reminder to slow down, juxtaposed with booming sub-heavy kicks, acidic synths and effervescent percussion that rattles in time with the vibrations. It's foley rave, built for pure psychedelic intensity to blur the line between real life and sonic fiction.

One of the album's most galvanic tracks, 'Power Dynamics' curves a double-time rhythm around breathless HQ sound design squiggles until it hits a polyrhythmic crescendo, striking a queasy balance between rave hedonism and ritualistic hand drum energy. It all builds towards eerie closing track 'Outside' that acts as an important wind down, spotlighting Mc Pherson's ability to operate outside of the rhythmic spectrum, using cinematic scrapes and flickering neon synths to create music that's tense but never terrifying. The track feels like the end credits of a particularly bewildering movie - something between the cyberpunk dystopia of "Ghost in the Shell" and the vivid, sky-scraping beauty of "Koyaanisqatsi". Mc Pherson has managed something special with "Pitch Blender": mashing together genres with rare focus, and sharpening their engineering skills to a fine point, they've concocted an antidote to contemporary malaise - a wakeup call that's begging us to loosen our limbs and move.

Deutschland, deine Städte. Der Schauplatz aller Songs und Erzählungen des Berliner Duos Die Anteile ist klar umrissen: Sie interessieren sich für die dunklen Ränder, für Ecken, in denen lange niemand mehr gekehrt hat. Holzvertäfelte Eckkneipen, asphaltierte Garagenhöfe, aber auch mitten in die Scheinwerfer blicken sie, die ihr Licht werfen auf alles, was einmal subversiv und anders war. "Pelzwerk", das nun bei Tapete Records erscheinende Debütalbum der Anteile, wurde geschrieben in einem feuchten Berliner Kellerraum. Einige Meter unter der Erde erblickte eine Vielzahl an Figuren das Licht, die auch einem düsteren Varietétheater entstammen könnten: Nazi-Erben, die dem Sheriff hinterher reiten, Sammler, die Vergangenheiten in Vitrinen ausstellen und Zirkusdirektoren im Gewand von Bürgermeistern sind im "Pelzwerk" beschäftigt. Dabei sind Die Anteile keine Kinder von Traurigkeit: Das Debütalbum ist umspült von quirligen Synthielines, überschwänglichen Gitarrenriffs und liebevoll garniert mit allerlei Sounds aus dem Krautrock-Zauberkasten. "Ich beherrsche wenig / aber du würdest mir auch schon reichen", singen sie auf dem Titeltrack. Bass und Drum Machine zielen auf die Beine, die Stimme - mal als Sprechgesang, mal oddly elegant - auf den Kopf. Hinterher ist man immer schlauer - "Und ich wurde aufgeklärt / vernünftig ist was sich rentiert" - oder zumindest nass geschwitzt. "Pelzwerk" vereint viele Genres in sich. Ist es EBM, ist es IDM oder - Gott bewahre! - NNDW? Ein begeisterter Konzertbesucher beschrieb Die Anteile einmal als "freundliche DAF". Doch eigentlich sind Die Anteile auch dafür zu verspielt. Statt mit Diktatoren tanzen sie eher im 4-eck, packen den Vocoder aus und halten die tanzende Menge mit knarzigen Basslines in Schach. Die Anteile sind im Nebenberuf Gärtner:innen. Ungeachtet der heimischen Witterungsbedingungen pflanzen sie munter verschiedenste musikalische Gewächse an. Prominent im Rundbeet wurzeln die japanischen Elektropioniere von Yellow Magic Orchestra in der selben Erde wie Proto-Industrialisten der Marke Crash Course in Science und Pyrolator. Am Gartenzaun treiben Post Punk-Bands wie Talking Heads und Magazine Blüten, während im Nachbarbeet gerade neu mit Electroclash gedüngt wird. Reichlich Grünzeug also, sodass jeden Tag ein frischer Wildblumensalat den Weg aufs Die-Anteile-Buffet findet.

Prolific Norwegian trumpeter and ECM veteran Arve Henriksen returns with Estonian guitarist/composer Robert Jürjendal in tow, matching his idiosyncratic shakuhachi-style melodic condensations with Jürjendal's glassy electro-acoustic soundscapes and sonorous percussion.

Henriksen releases a lot but is remarkably reliable; his playing is so versatile that hearing it dematerialise into different ensembles and individual methodologies is always a treat. Jürjendal is a veteran guitarist, but doesn't approach his instrument from a purely classical standpoint, taking a Fripp-inspired path towards texture, processing and looping his sounds until they're barely recognisable. The duo share a similar love for Hassell's Fourth World ambience, and here inject new life into that mood.

Jürjendal's percussion is impressive: he offsets cascades of oddly-tuned electronics on 'Tuonela' with booming, ritualistic tom hits that punctuate Henriksen's melancholy phrases; and on the brilliant 'Ancient Bells', plays a set of gongs and gamelan-style instruments, creating swirling hammered tonal clusters that quiver beneath Henriksen's echoed-out, spirited improvisations. It's not always that corporeal, either; on 'A Remarkable Flow', he loops guitar phrases, creating gentle vibrations that rumble in the background while he mirrors Henriksen's pitchy zig-zags with high-pitched oscillator vamps.

Even on the peaceable 'Miraculous Lake', discreet kalimba loops set a celestial tempo that anchors the duo's gaseous soundscapes. And although they veer towards end-credits loveliness on the Göttsching-influenced 'Reunion Hymn', it’s balanced by the album's darker passages, like 'Rebirth' and 'Another Me'. On the latter, Henriksen's trumpet is transformed into a voice-like warble, while Jürjendal replies with glacial E-bowed drones that resonate creepily alongside his lysergic FM pads.

In Todmorden, the oddly-named market border town in West Yorkshire with a habit for embracing the weird and wonderful, a burst of sunshine is a precious thing. Through the thick of Winter, through every season in fact, the town’s folk are used to the wind and rain, fog and mist. As much a part of the town as the trademark deep valley it sits in, here the lay of the land invites the weather in, just as it does the many musicians, artists, and unique characters that have come to call the place home over the centuries.
Bridget Hayden is one such soul who found a home among these hills. The experimental musician, who invites the ghosts in for the classic folk songs that make up her stunning new album, knows only too well about such weather, how rare and treasured the breaks from it are. Her favourite thing to do in the valley, she says, is “to make the most of every tiny minute of sunshine.”
Such aspirations nearly derailed the recording of Cold Blows the Rain, her new eight-song collection released via the Todmorden- based label Basin Rock. Having hired the town’s Oddfellow’s Hall to record these new songs in the late summer of 2022, Hayden says the weather was so good she ended up basking in every second of it, only moving inside to begin recording when the sun was setting, working deep into the night to make up the time.
There’s a good chance, however, that it had to be this way. The songs that make up Cold Blows the Rain are not made for the sunlight. They come, instead, wrapped in mist and coated with drizzle, those elements shaping the album as much as the voice and the instruments held within, as real but ambiguous as the ghosts that linger in the shadows. The sound of the dark valley floor.
Mostly centred around meditative and experimental improvisation, Bridget’s work to-date has seen her spend more than two decades recording and performing on the underground music scene. She’s also toured internationally both as a solo artist and as part of bands such as Schisms and The Telescopes, while working on various side-projects with the likes of Folklore Tapes.
For all of this sonic exploration, so much of her work has been formed around elements of traditional folk aesthetics and, over time, she began to piece together a collection of reinterpreted traditional songs that she absorbed as a child from her mother: through The Dubliners and Muddy Waters, to Bessie Smith and The Leadbelly Songbook. Harvesting her love for Nina Simone, Karen Dalton, Margaret Barry, and more, Bridget takes these traditional songs and transforms them into something uniquely evocative
"It goes back to the womb,” Bridget says of that connection. “I would not call it a memory as it is so deep within my blood and bones. My mum was the source, she sang all the time, as part of life. So it was a very lulling and natural introduction. It seemed common to hear her singing – unbeknownst to her – in time with a raindrop dripping at the window,” Bridget continues. “I’ve always wanted to do a folk record as I love these songs so much. It comes much more naturally to me to sing other people’s words, especially when they’re as beautiful as these old verses.”
Underpinned by waves of analogue reverb, and led by Bridget’s stirring and weather-beaten voice, the songs on Cold Blows the Rain drift and crawl like low heavy clouds on flat-top hills, shaped by the land. The backdrop is equally as arresting, all subtle gloom cast in shadow, a gentle but pronounced swirling of textures, crafted from harmonium and violin courtesy of The Apparitions (Sam Mcloughlin and Dan Bridgewood-Hill).
“The weather speaks the most eloquently about human loss,” Bridget says, articulating such sentiments. “It’s good to feel enveloped by something so much vaster than ourselves. The rain and the tears all become one.”

Named after a metro station located in East Paris, Pointe du Lac originated in 2014 as the brainchild of analogue gear enthusiast Julien Lheuillier, joined shortly after by multi-instrumentalist Richard Francés, followed by Quentin Rollet on Saxophone a few years down the line. Les siphonophores des eaux froides et profondes de l'Arctique (“Siphonophores of the cold, deep Arctic waters”) is the project’s third studio album, the first one written as a three-piece as well as their first release on Hands in the Dark.

Like the organisms the album title refers to, Pointe du Lac’s music is highly polymorphic and complex, using a subtle and distinctive blend of Electronica, Krautrock, Jazz and Kosmische as vessels for the band’s fantastic instrumental imaginary voyages. Compared to previous albums and EPs -which tended to suggest cosmic odysseys- this new cinematic outing is diving deep and intends to shed light on fascinating, mysterious and diverse creatures and their habitats. Supported by (paradoxically) warm and impeccable sonic forms, the exploration turns out to be an unsurprisingly expansive one, yet accessible and oddly familiar sounding. There is a sense of assurance and serenity in the French trio’s latest offering, the musicians mastery and open-ended approach to free ambient music lets their ideas flow and never stagnate. The narrative of this expedition is one that will be remembered long after the listening finishes.

Dawn Richard and Spencer Zahn share a common collaborative ethos, a genuine sense of musical curiosity, and a cosmopolitan eagerness to escape the conventions of genre. That shared vision first brought them together on 2022's Pigments_icy and warm, stripped-down and grand, familiar and otherworldly_and now it has reunited them for Quiet in a World Full of Noise. By turns intimate, soul-baring, spectral, and startling, Quiet in a World Full of Noise blends atmospheric and orchestral soundscapes with mellifluous soul, jazz, and journalistic vocalizing_driving it all home with stark, confessional lyricism. The new album finds Richard at her most raw and exposed. This year, Richard's musician father experienced mini strokes while being diagnosed with cancer; and last year, her cousin Cisco was fatally shot seven times in New Orleans. Richard channels the emotional impact of these traumatic experiences of loss into her lyrics and vocal performances, which are left bare and human here, raw and unprocessed across the album. Quiet expands the definitions of what constitutes progressive, avant-garde R&B by rewriting them altogether. On paper, Richard and Zahn's audacious, impressionistic musical collaborations feel like a surprising match. Richard, a New Orleans-reared visionary, has had an improbable journey from late 2000s reality television and mainstream pop with girl group Danity Kane to become one of the most prolific, experimental, and visible indie R&B singer-songwriters of the last decade and a half, with seven solo albums under her belt. Zahn is an East Coast-raised multi-instrumentalist and composer working at the intersections of jazz, Americana, classical, and ambient pop. His growing solo discography includes People of the Dawn, Sunday Painter, Pale Horizon, and Statues I & II, as well as the duo's first release, Pigments. "Pigments was one of the best projects I've ever made," Richard says, "and the furthest I've ever been pushed as an artist." The album was a critical hit, hailed as Best New Music by Pitchfork and receiving praise from Stereogum as Album of the Week, NPR Music, Bandcamp Daily, The Fader, Bitter Southerner, and Edition, among many other publications. The making of its follow-up, Quiet in a World Full of Noise, began in 2023 in upstate New York. Fresh from a break-up, Zahn sat at his piano and poured himself into writing and recording instrumental compositions. "I wrote all these stream-of-consciousness pieces on piano, and they were eerie, spacious piano tracks," he said. He used a piano that had been unconventionally tuned to the room rather than to standard pitch. These oddly-tuned, eerie instrumental recordings were never intended to be an album. Six months later, he listened to the recordings again and sent them to Richard who immediately recognized their potential and said, "Oh, this is the next album." Richard went into the studio the next day and wrote and recorded melodies and lyrics to Zahn's piano recordings. Zahn brought in gifted musicians like Bryan Senti on strings (violin, viola, and violoncello da spalla) and CJ Camerieri on brass (French horn, flugelhorn, and trumpet). In some cases, like on the track "Life in Numbers," Zahn used only the original first-take piano recording and scratch vocal, resulting in an intimate close-up of both Richard and Zahn.

Dawn Richard and Spencer Zahn share a common collaborative ethos, a genuine sense of musical curiosity, and a cosmopolitan eagerness to escape the conventions of genre. That shared vision first brought them together on 2022’s Pigments icy and warm, stripped-down and grand, familiar and otherworldly and now it has reunited them for Quiet in a World Full of Noise. By turns intimate, soul-baring, spectral, and startling, Quiet in a World Full of Noise blends atmospheric and orchestral soundscapes with mellifluous soul, jazz, and journalistic vocalizing driving it all home with stark, confessional lyricism. The new album finds Richard at her most raw and exposed. This year, Richard’s musician father experienced mini strokes while being diagnosed with cancer; and last year, her cousin Cisco was fatally shot seven times in New Orleans. Richard channels the emotional impact of these traumatic experiences of loss into her lyrics and vocal performances, which are left bare and human here, raw and unprocessed across the album. Quiet expands the definitions of what constitutes progressive, avant-garde R&B by rewriting them altogether. On paper, Richard and Zahn’s audacious, impressionistic musical collaborations feel like a surprising match. Richard, a New Orleans–reared visionary, has had an improbable journey from late 2000s reality television and mainstream pop with girl group Danity Kane to become one of the most prolific, experimental, and visible indie R&B singer-songwriters of the last decade and a half, with seven solo albums under her belt. Zahn is an East Coast–raised multi-instrumentalist and composer working at the intersections of jazz, Americana, classical, and ambient pop. His growing solo discography includes People of the Dawn, Sunday Painter, Pale Horizon, and Statues I & II, as well as the duo’s first release, Pigments. “Pigments was one of the best projects I’ve ever made,” Richard says, “and the furthest I’ve ever been pushed as an artist.” The album was a critical hit, hailed as Best New Music by Pitchfork and receiving praise from Stereogum as Album of the Week, NPR Music, Bandcamp Daily, The Fader, Bitter Southerner, and Edition, among many other publications. The making of its follow-up, Quiet in a World Full of Noise, began in 2023 in upstate New York. Fresh from a break-up, Zahn sat at his piano and poured himself into writing and recording instrumental compositions. “I wrote all these stream-of-consciousness pieces on piano, and they were eerie, spacious piano tracks,” he said. He used a piano that had been unconventionally tuned to the room rather than to standard pitch. These oddly-tuned, eerie instrumental recordings were never intended to be an album. Six months later, he listened to the recordings again and sent them to Richard who immediately recognized their potential and said, “Oh, this is the next album.” Richard went into the studio the next day and wrote and recorded melodies and lyrics to Zahn’s piano recordings. Zahn brought in gifted musicians like Bryan Senti on strings (violin, viola, and violoncello da spalla) and CJ Camerieri on brass (French horn, flugelhorn, and trumpet). In some cases, like on the track “Life in Numbers,” Zahn used only the original first-take piano recording and scratch vocal, resulting in an intimate close-up of both Richard and Zahn.

• The mysterious and oddly named Soul Interiors recorded two terrific sides for Mickey Stevenson in 1972, ‘The Inside Guys’ - a sublime dancer and the deep soul harmony of ‘My Friend Heartaches’.

Expanding upon his critically acclaimed MAX comedy special of the same name, John Early’s long-awaited first comedy album Now More Than Ever features four brand new cover songs from John Early and The Lemon Squares, along with an exclusive, album-only set from Early’s beloved alter ego, Vicky with a ‘V.’ In the album's oddly stirring climax, Early delivers a sermon on the emptiness of millennial culture, pleading to the Brooklyn crowd, “We have to get serious! Before it’s too late! And our gravestones read: Because Cancer.” Now More Than Ever is Early’s sincere and abundant offering back to the culture of thoughtful critique, heartfelt music, and infectious joy, firmly cementing his place as the godfather of millennial alt-comedy.

Ten bad boy digi riddims from the myspace era by Copenhagen’s Maffi crew, dubbed out into 3D space by disrupt in 2024. Raw, minimalist CyberDancehall at its best, nostalgic and oddly futuristic at the same time, this album is quickly becoming RoboCop’s favorite playlist when going to work.
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Maffi Promotions a.k.a. Maffi Boys come straight outta 1773 Kbh V, Copenhagen, Denmark. Originally founded in 1990 by the two homeboys, lazy body Moog and Junior the Rat, Maffi Promotions have been a steady producer of simple digital riddims for years. Hanging out in the streets of Hummel City Junior & Moog used to entertain their friends with the primitve riddims of the Maffi sound. Not knowing that they would do the exact same thing fifteen years later, they continued to believe that one day they would move up the ladder, break out of the underground and reach for the stars.

Now, after finally adopting a little sense of realism, the two homeboys have realised that stardom is nothing compared to spamming people on myspace. So the two stoners decided to get a couple of friends together and turn up the bass online. Together with their sound crew FIREHOUSE, Maffi deal nuff weed and gyals!

Maffi Boys are very dedicated to the art of playing Sensible World of Soccer, rolling weed joints with Manitou tobacco and keeping it real in a Vesterbro-style. So watch out! And don’t test! We’ll be putting up new riddims on a weekly basis. We have nuff things brewing – including a delicious chicken!
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Growing up in the streets of Hummel City, Vesterbro, MOOG learned the pleasures of sleeping late, playing Sensible World Of Soccer and picking up hot gyals at an early age. He has spent most of his life trying to master these crucial skills. Taking a break from the dog race, Moog is currently focused on reaching a higher understanding of reggae-science and weedology.

JUNIOR experienced the necessity of rolling well-made spliffs at an early age. Incorporating the aestethic heritage of Scandinavian design, he has spent most of his life perfectionizing this old and traditional art form. Junior is currently taking his ph.d. in digital reggae by buying crates of 80’s 7″ and selecting for his sound system Firehouse.

January 2023, Dorset. Snow is piled at the door, icy roads are closed, and Emily Cross is in a coffin. Not a setting typical for a rebirth. But for Loma, this is where they bring their band back from the brink. "It's like a demon enters the room, whenever we get together", writer, singer and instrumentalist Cross says of the struggle to bring new Loma music into the world. Following the release of their 2020 second album Don't Shy Away, Loma's three members were cast around the globe and the band-not for the first time-entered a deep sleep. Multi-instrumentalist and recording engineer Dan Duszynski remained in his studio in Don't Shy Away's central Texas heart, but Cross, a UK citizen, moved to Dorset, and writer and instrumentalist Jonathan Meiburg left the US for Germany to research a book. In the pandemic years, even being in the same room was impossible, and attempts to start a new record faltered. The following winter, in an attempt to salvage the record and the band, Cross suggested they regroup in the UK, in the tiny stone house-once a coffin-maker's workshop-where she works as an end-of-life doula. With minimal recording gear and few instruments, Loma turned two whitewashed rooms into a makeshift studio, using a padded coffin as a vocal booth. It was a turning point. They scrapped much of what they'd made, letting a new place set a new course. The one-lane roads, hedgerows and dark skies of Dorset gave the new songs an ineffable but unmistakable Englishness. The band used the ruin of a 12th-century chapel as a reverb chamber-surprising hillwalkers who peeked in to find them singing to no one-and the sounds of Cross's chilly workshop wormed their way into the recording: a leaky pipe, a drummer's brushes on a metal lampshade, the voices left on an ancient answering machine. What emerged was How Will I Live Without A Body?: a gorgeous, unique, and oddly comforting album about partnership, loss, regeneration, and fighting the feeling that we're all in this alone. Many of its songs have a feeling of restless motion; faceless characters drift through meetings and partings, tangling together and slipping away. "I Swallowed A Stone" is like a nightmare with a happy ending; "How It Starts" and "Broken Doorbell" reflect on the challenge (and necessity) of wrestling with agoraphobia. Though the record nods to the trio's separate lives- a German percussion ensemble, a pair of Texan owls, and the surf at Chesil Beach make guest appearances-the core of Loma's sound remains intact: earthy, organic and deeply human, anchored by Cross's cool, clear voice. Loma's previous album, Don't Shy Away, was galvanized by the unexpected encouragement and contributions of Brian Eno. This time, they found inspiration in another hero, Laurie Anderson, who offered a chance to work with an AI trained on her entire body of work. Meiburg sent her a photo from his book-in-progress about the once and future life of Antarctica; Anderson's AI responded with two haunting poems. "We used parts of them in a few songs," he says. "And then Dan noticed that one of its lines, 'How will I live without a body?' would be a perfect name for the album, since we nearly lost sight of each other in the recording process." In the end, Loma's efforts to reconnect with one another are the album's central focus: what do you owe a shared past, when everyone and everything has changed? "Making this record tested us all," says Duszynski. "I think that feeling was alchemized through the music." Alchemized, because How Will I Live Without A Body? is by no means a stressed-out record: an undercurrent of deep calm runs through it. But maybe 'relaxed' isn't the right word. It's more like a feeling of relief, of making it through a tough journey together.

"The Red Room Crystal-Ruby Splatter Vinyl". Netherworld marks a considerable step onwards from the territory that Louise Patricia Crane explored on her debut long player Deep Blue, crafting audial landscapes that go further into both inner and outer space; hallucinatory and surrealistic yet also grittier and more direct. For all that this stemmed in part from early Genesis and The Beatles, Netherworld also sits in alignment with the luxurious but oddly intimate realm of modern classics, by the likes of Tears For Fears, Tori Amos and Joni Mitchell, with passionate intensity set in a bold, cinematic vista. In realising these romantic and expansive visions, Crane not only wrote or co-wrote the entire album, but arranged, co-produced and played a wide variety of instruments on it. Yet as a supporting cast, she has surrounded herself with a formidable selection of mercurial contributors. Once again, Jakko M. Jakszyk (King Crimson) brings his fiery and mellifluous solo guitar work, as well as contributing backing vocals, keyboards and co-production. Elsewhere, the flute soliloquies of Tiny Bard are the work of Jethro Tull's Ian Andersonwhile saxophone duties are handled by Mel Collins, whose work with King Crimson marks only one chapter in an incredibly storied life in music. Providing violin and viola across the stylistic expanse of the album, Shir-Ran Yinon (New Model Army / Eluveitie) returns as a collaborator. The rhythm section for the lion's share of the record consists of the dream team of Tony Levin (King Crimson / Peter Gabriel) and Gary Husband (John McLaughlin / Billy Cobham / Allan Holdsworth) with Nick Beggs stepping in on bass for Dance With The Devil and upright bass on Long Kiss Goodnight. Crucially however, even amidst this kind of company, Louise's voice and vision is never remotely overshadowed-with the talents on offer only serving to make the backdrop to her songs still more vivid, sharp and intense. In as much as Netherworld is a work that exists on a lineage of progressive music and the visionary artists who've expanded their boundaries of exploration to form sound-worlds as big as their imagination, it's also a work of magical realism in the tradition of Pan's Labyrinth, The Company Of Wolves or the work of Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Haruki Murakami-in which the supernatural and otherworldly, lead to a shortcut to the essence of being human. In this World, Louise Patricia Crane is our Storyteller.

Netherworld Double Gatefold Vinyl in 'Celestial Dust' transparent gold CD / DVD - 5.1 Surround mixed by Jakko M. Jakszyk: 'Storybook' Edition 'Ladies' Double A-Side 7" Single - Ladies Of The Road / Dirty (Black Vinyl) Netherworld A6 illustrated 'Little Stories' book All housed in a Black Textured Box with Gold Hot Foil Embossing Netherworld marks a considerable step onwards from the territory that Louise Patricia Crane explored on her debut long player Deep Blue, crafting audial landscapes that go further into both inner and outer space; hallucinatory and surrealistic yet also grittier and more direct. For all that this stemmed in part from early Genesis and The Beatles, Netherworld also sits in alignment with the luxurious but oddly intimate realm of modern classics, by the likes of Tears For Fears, Tori Amos and Joni Mitchell, with passionate intensity set in a bold, cinematic vista. In realising these romantic and expansive visions, Crane not only wrote or co-wrote the entire album, but arranged, co-produced and played a wide variety of instruments on it. Yet as a supporting cast, she has surrounded herself with a formidable selection of mercurial contributors. Once again, Jakko M. Jakszyk (King Crimson) brings his fiery and mellifluous solo guitar work, as well as contributing backing vocals, keyboards and co-production. Elsewhere, the flute soliloquies of Tiny Bard are the work of Jethro Tull's Ian Andersonwhile saxophone duties are handled by Mel Collins, whose work with King Crimson marks only one chapter in an incredibly storied life in music. Providing violin and viola across the stylistic expanse of the album, Shir-Ran Yinon (New Model Army / Eluveitie) returns as a collaborator. The rhythm section for the lion's share of the record consists of the dream team of Tony Levin (King Crimson / Peter Gabriel) and Gary Husband (John McLaughlin / Billy Cobham / Allan Holdsworth) with Nick Beggs stepping in on bass for Dance With The Devil and upright bass on Long Kiss Goodnight. Crucially however, even amidst this kind of company, Louise's voice and vision is never remotely overshadowed_with the talents on offer only serving to make the backdrop to her songs still more vivid, sharp and intense.

"Since 2012, New York City singer-songwriter Nate Amos (Water From Your Eyes, My Idea) has recorded and self-released hundreds of songs under the This Is Lorelei moniker, and perhaps surprisingly, after a decade plus, ""Box for Buddy, Box for Star"" marks the first attempt at a traditional, intentionally written full-length album. Amos describes the bulk of This Is Lorelei’s discography as “unedited diary entries,” written and recorded without much forethought, regard for genre or reverence for albums as thematic bodies of work, so oddly enough, ""Box for Buddy, Box for Star"" is both a fresh start and the culmination of years of diligent, interesting songwriting.

""Box for Buddy, Box for Star"" embraces traditional pop songcraft and a confessional, carefully written brand of lyricism, dabbling in the kind of classic singer-songwriter cliches he never imagined toying with—but not without the counterbalancing force of shitpost-y irony, which listeners have come to expect from Amos. Inspired by the gritty romanticism of Shane MacGowan and the Jim Croce mimicry of Tim Heidecker’s ""What the Brokenhearted Do…"", the LP exudes both a grizzled charm and youthful intensity. Sonically, Amos adorns the record with quaint country gestures—a full-circle artistic choice for Amos whose father is a veteran bluegrass musician.

And it wouldn’t be a Nate Amos release without a few curveballs, like “Dancing in the Club,” a bouncy auto-tuned pop song, which he likens to Bruce Hornsby-via-Blink-182, or “Perfect Hand,” an intimate piano-led track with vocal samples, alarm bell-like effects and skittering electronic beats. He also mischievously opens the album with a red herring of sorts, “Angel’s Eye,” a twangy sci-fi country duet about an angel who abducts a cowboy and unintentionally falls in love."

NAKID presents the first album in years from Max Loderbauer (Sun Electric) and Tobias Freund’s cult Non Standard Institute. Delving deep into the aether with a double LP - almost an hour and a half in length - featuring ruined, vaporous and engrossing ambient variations on a theme.

Planing axes between iridescent new age ambient, sublime folk and avant-classical, to miasmic drone and plangent shoegaze; ‘A Day or Two’ charts the Non Standard Institute’s first actions in 6 years and serves as a compelling reminder of their intuitive work in abundance. Expanding and contracting their sound across 18 parts, they arc from heaving, oddly-tuned drones to smoggy, surreal soundscapes, bringing a wealth of fine-tuned instincts to the table. With Max Loderbauer’s 35+ years as Berlin ambient pioneer with Sun Electric, jams with Villalobos, and roles in Vladislav Delay Quintet and the Moritz von Oswald Trio, he’s matched by Freund’s 40 years of deep engineering expertise embedded in the experimental industrial and techno trenches.

The melancholy, Satie-laced piano meditations that grounded 2018's '5863' are gone, and the human touch that's been present since their very first collaborations is placed under the microscope, enhanced by their use of the Haken Continuum Fingerboard, a gestural synth that was developed to open up new modes of playing. Loderbauer's experience with the piano helps him make the most of the instrument's touch-sensitive 3D surface, while Freund uses two multi-channel loopers, piping the sounds through his arsenal of pedals.

The 18 tracks are billed as "unplanned atmospheres" that arc from sombre, drone-heavy material to humid, tape-saturated imaginary-island jams such as 'Listening To Cells' and 'Are You One Of Them'. On the latter, the duo work patiently, letting dusted string plucks tumble across each other while warbling pads hum below, bending like flutes. On 'Unlikely Events', anxious didgeridoo-like wails are ruptured by environmental rattles, before ominous voices lead us into a pocket of industrialised resonance. In time, the skies open up and the sounds morph into pastoral song, the drone blurring into hopeful pads almost as lucid and eloquent as AFX's 'SAW Vol. II', with sonorous synths that float over formless strings. Reflective, cinematic arrangements for flute and silvery ambient give way to diffusions of denser, resonant polychromatics and pucker up in outernational, alien ambient impulses recalling Connor Camburn jamming with dirashe folk pipes.

My Proud Mountain is proud to announce third volume of the series "Songs of Townes Van Zandt", that was started in 2012 and features various artists covering Townes Van Zandt songs. Songs of Townes Van Zandt Vol. III featuring Amenra, Cave In & Marissa Nadler and will be released on April 22, 2022. Steve Brodsky of Cave In about being part of the record: "In the winter of 2010, I did a solo tour with Scott Kelly of Neurosis and Bob Wayne. It was the 3 of us and Ansgar Glade traveling in Bob's "green machine" van around the UK and Ireland. At every show, Scott played the song "Caroline" and each time I heard it, I found myself enraptured. This was my introduction to Townes Van Zandt. Pretty cool that 10 years later, Ansgar has given me and Cave In this great opportunity to show our love for TVZ's music." Lennart Bossu of Amenra says: "Being Belgians, the very American folk and country of Townes Van Zandt is not exactly the music we grew up listening to, but upon discovering his songs in our early twenties, they immediately struck a chord with us. Even people who do not understand the lyrics can probably tell that they are listening to someone who has lived and suffered, and, oddly enough, at the same time find deep comfort in his soothing voice. It is the kind of comfort that often defines great music or art in general, and it made the prospect of trying our own hand at a few of his songs no less daunting. Nonetheless, when we were asked to be part of this collection of Townes Van Zandt cover songs, we felt excited and compelled to be part of it, as, in a way, it offered us a chance to do something in return for the great songs he has given us, and also be a part of a series of albums that are almost exclusively comprised of artists we deeply respect." Marissa Nadler about Townes Van Zandt: "I've been a fan of Townes Van Zandt's music for nearly as long as I've been writing songs. When I was starting out, a friend introduced me to Townes's music and I pretty much instantly fell in love with both the rawness of his songs as well as the intense sense of longing expressed within them. His lyrics are haunting and evocative and have inspired me endlessly. These melodies will linger with you, year after year, and hopefully keep you company along the way." Ltd red vinyl LP!

Available on ltd edition white vinyl, only 300 pressed. Includes extended album download.

Ivan The Tolerable is the alter ego solo project of Middlesbrough based musical wizard Oli Heffernan. Aside from his solo work as ITT, Oli has played in numerous bands over the years including Year Of Birds, King Champion Sounds with members of the Ex, Detective Instinct, and Shrug, and has collaborated with icons like Mike Watts of the Minutemen, and J Mascis of Dinosaur Jr.

On Black Water/Brown Earth, Heff called in the help of his Dutch friends Mees and Elsa in King Champion Sounds again and wrote the album in a long-distance session. The album feels like an excursion in nature, featuring bird song, flowing water, pots and pans percussion, and a genuine feel of wandering about and experiencing the outside world with eyes and ears wide open. It is a band effort too, with organic sounding drums, the characteristic saxophone, and droning synths.

‘Elsewhere, gentle intonations of morning with almost childlike embellishments and rhythmic beats, and more flute, might lull and comfort but nothing ever sits exactly in time which might make this Ivan The Tolerable’s most frustrating album at times but also one of his most interesting to really delve into aurally. ‘Sawdust’ is another sonic interlude, little more than a purge of effects and ideas but in a place where effects and ideas are plentiful. However, it’s centrepieces ‘Seaweed’ and ‘Signs’ that provide the pulsing, grooving dual that makes the second half of Black Water/Brown Earth a sheer delight. The former being simply kind of folky with a bit of sitar but utterly immersive, the latter oddly upbeat with eastern vibes and tubular rhythms, combined it is nearly twenty minutes of serene experimentalism.
The shorter tracks are perhaps designed to temper the mood or counter and reflect the passage of time on an album of mostly structured improvisation, and it may only be closer ‘Memory’ that is truly free to roam musically, its long jazzy segments skipping off into the farthest corners of the left field’.

Obscure digi dub gem from 2010 by French one-of-a-kind vocal scientist Pupa Jim, available on wax for the first time since its initial short run 14 years ago.

Programmed by the Maffi crew, the Copenhagen riddim experts of the myspace era, this relentless 7″ module aged oddly well, with its futuristic AI-theme and timeless simplicity.

Jahtari main electrician disrupt is taking a closer look into the strippped down riddim schematics on the flip side, kicking it with a minimum set of transistors to wreak maximum havoc dubwise.

"Nadine Shah announce her fifth album Filthy Underneath will be released on 23 February as the inaugural release on EMI North. The follow up to 2020's critically acclaimed Kitchen Sink and 2017's Mercury Prize nominated Holiday Destination, the announcement comes alongside lead single 'Topless Mother' which was just premiered by Steve Lamacq on BBC 6 Music.


Filthy Underneath chronicles a period of unprecedented turbulence in Nadine Shah’s life. And yet, the experience of listening to it is oddly life-affirming – a parade of ghosts spanning the entirety of Nadine’s thirty-seven years, moving with balletic beauty to the music that Nadine and long-time co-writer and producer Ben Hillier have created around them, with renewed emphasis on placing melody and movement front and centre."

A new type of sound from uhinged live-performer and a one-woman fun tribunal. It's glossy, noisy, raw, futuristic, sensual, frivolous, dark, wonky, slow and fast alike - yet in all those variations, rather suited for bigger PAs. Tracks on Cracked, serving assorted sweets make heaven utilize pummeling yet unequal kickdrums and vary in tempo.

Side A turns risky breaks into an oddly enjoyable experience while the tracks on B flip trance motifs into rather serious, darker futuristic ride.
Isabella's work also happens to be a link between Rhode Island's noise scene & pranksters from Börft Records, Herrensauna's dancefloors and halls of Berklee College of Music where she lectures.

Vladislav Delay presents the fifth and last EP in his "Hide Behind The Silence" series. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

--

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.
Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Bob Balch from FU MANCHU here. The idea for the SLOWER project started around four years ago. I was teaching a student how to play "South Of Heaven" by SLAYER but she was a beginner so we slowed it down. I thought that sounded cool so I tuned down to B standard and tried it. I added some drums and thought "someone in the doom community should do this and name it SLOWER." A few years later I befriended Steven "Thee Slayer Hippy" Hanford, best known for his work as the drummer in the influential Oregon punk band Poison Idea. He was backstage at a FU MANCHU show. Oddly enough I was wearing a POISON IDEA shirt and he told me that my shirt sucks. I asked who he was and why he was in our backstage. He told me and I felt stupid. We started drinking whiskey and talking about music. We stayed in touch over the next year or so and during Covid I told him about my SLOWER idea. He asked me to send him tracks. I waited too long because the day I sent the tracks he passed away. Totally tragic. I'm glad I got to know him even for a few years. He was a monster musician with a giant heart. He will be greatly missed. I shelved the project for a while after that. One day Esben from MONOLORD posted about musical collaborations. I love MONOLORD so I thought what the hell. I sent him some tracks and he killed it on drums. So I sent more. Then more. Shortly after that we started reaching out other musicians to get them involved. That's how we ended up with this lineup. Everyone that contributed completely knocked it out of the park and I can't thank them enough. This project has been a long time coming and I'm beyond stoked on how it turned out. Without all of the players involved, Steven Hanford and my baritone Reverend guitar it wouldn't have happened. Thanks to everyone involved and I hope you dig it! I'm a giant SLAYER fan so it's been a treat to dig into these classic songs. Hopefully we can do another record in the near future. Look out for shows because they will happen! Esben Willems - When Bob first approached me with the idea and I heard his scratch guitars, my first thought was "This is genius". Those iconic tracks we all know by heart suddenly unveiled an unexpected dimension. I'm really proud of how this turned out. Peder Bergstrand - "This might be blasphemous considering the circumstances, but when Bob reached out and asked if I'd want to play bass on sludged-out Slayer covers, I had to admit some of these tracks were brand new to me. That made the experience even more special though, hearing and playing on the Slower version first, and then comparing to the original. Bob has really transformed these songs into something totally their own, and on a personal level I feel the rest of the band's insane performances pushed me to my most inspired playing to date. So incredibly stoked for people to hear this album."

Neon Green Vinyl, limited to 500 copies. Bob Balch from FU MANCHU here. The idea for the SLOWER project started around four years ago. I was teaching a student how to play "South Of Heaven" by SLAYER but she was a beginner so we slowed it down. I thought that sounded cool so I tuned down to B standard and tried it. I added some drums and thought "someone in the doom community should do this and name it SLOWER." A few years later I befriended Steven "Thee Slayer Hippy" Hanford, best known for his work as the drummer in the influential Oregon punk band Poison Idea. He was backstage at a FU MANCHU show. Oddly enough I was wearing a POISON IDEA shirt and he told me that my shirt sucks. I asked who he was and why he was in our backstage. He told me and I felt stupid. We started drinking whiskey and talking about music. We stayed in touch over the next year or so and during Covid I told him about my SLOWER idea. He asked me to send him tracks. I waited too long because the day I sent the tracks he passed away. Totally tragic. I'm glad I got to know him even for a few years. He was a monster musician with a giant heart. He will be greatly missed. I shelved the project for a while after that. One day Esben from MONOLORD posted about musical collaborations. I love MONOLORD so I thought what the hell. I sent him some tracks and he killed it on drums. So I sent more. Then more. Shortly after that we started reaching out other musicians to get them involved. That's how we ended up with this lineup. Everyone that contributed completely knocked it out of the park and I can't thank them enough. This project has been a long time coming and I'm beyond stoked on how it turned out. Without all of the players involved, Steven Hanford and my baritone Reverend guitar it wouldn't have happened. Thanks to everyone involved and I hope you dig it! I'm a giant SLAYER fan so it's been a treat to dig into these classic songs. Hopefully we can do another record in the near future. Look out for shows because they will happen! Esben Willems - When Bob first approached me with the idea and I heard his scratch guitars, my first thought was "This is genius". Those iconic tracks we all know by heart suddenly unveiled an unexpected dimension. I'm really proud of how this turned out. Peder Bergstrand - "This might be blasphemous considering the circumstances, but when Bob reached out and asked if I'd want to play bass on sludged-out Slayer covers, I had to admit some of these tracks were brand new to me. That made the experience even more special though, hearing and playing on the Slower version first, and then comparing to the original. Bob has really transformed these songs into something totally their own, and on a personal level I feel the rest of the band's insane performances pushed me to my most inspired playing to date. So incredibly stoked for people to hear this album."