Buscar:on and on

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mr Bongo are thrilled to have one of the leading lights in contemporary soul joining the label. Melbourne-based vocalist, musician, and songwriter Ella Thompson is an artist whose name is being championed by some of the best in the business. She’s been building a reputation as one to watch, with two standout releases on Hopestreet Recordings, Domino EP in 2023 and Ripple On The Wing LP in 2024, alongside a heavy touring schedule and a stacked list of support slots and collaborations.

For this new 7” single, Ella collaborates with a selection of artists at the forefront of Naarm/Melbourne’s soulful DIY community. Featuring members of Surprise Chef and Karate Boogaloo, Liam McGorry from Temporary Blessings (College Of Knowledge) joins Ella as co-writer and co-producer, with go-to Melbourne engineer Henry Jenkins also producing and recording the track.

Bridging the worlds of classic and contemporary soul, Ella’s songwriting is drenched in emotion and personal experience. With a timeless feel that is hard to tie to any particular period, she has crafted a sound that instantly hits deep. It’s warm, tasteful and distinctly Ella. That talent has also seen her tour with Mark Ronson, and support other contemporary greats like Jalen Ngonda, Lee Fields, and Thee Sacred Souls.

‘Promise To Keep’ is the first taste of Ella’s new material on this 7” single. An irrepressible upbeat groover that echoes mid-to-late-sixties vocal groups. That influence though never overpowers Ella’s own unique creative voice or distinct sense of self. She draws from it, but the colour is all her own. The song tells a story of being carried by the current that keeps us moving, giving us courage. A commitment to oneself that speaks to action shaped by vision, and the pull of following what feels correct even when the distance is far.

The flip side finds Ella in a different mood. ‘Change Of Heart’ is a heavy sweet-soul ballad. Rich in drama, Ella’s falsetto vocals build to a stunning climax in the final section, with triumphant horns that signal the release of letting go. The lyrics reflect on temporality and impermanence, and the way moments can be missed or arrive with synchronicity. It’s that bittersweet paradox of triumph and sadness, where everything contains its opposite: absence and presence, innocence and experience. The song is underpinned by a brooding production quality and atmospheric, beat-heavy flavour that Surprise Chef and cinematic soul fans will relish.

Mixed by Wayne Gordon (Daptone, Womack Sisters), ‘Promise to Keep’ and ‘Change of Heart’ are a glimpse of things to come from Ella. Keep an eye open for more new music incoming from this phenomenal artist at the top of her game.

Atkinson first saw Les yeux sans visage when she was a teenager, around the turn of the century. The film made an impact for its iconic imagery and the way Franju draws on the aesthetics of early filmmaking, from its score that relies on stylistic markers typical of the 1940s or 50s to the decision to shoot in black and white. Even four decades after its first release, it was clear that this was a work that stood outside of the cultural moment that birthed it, speaking through time in ways that were uncanny, but profound.

A quarter-century later, Atkinson was approached by the Belgian cultural center VIERNULVIER to create a new score for Les yeux sans visage for its celebrated Videodroom series, which has seen artists like claire rousay, Mabe Fratti, Lee Renaldo, and many more create new original scores for cult classics and genre cinema. Atkinson's music, with its sublime meditations on space and proximity, its elusive sense of narrative development, mirrors the pacing and mystery at the heart of horror filmmaking. There is a shadow at the heart of her soundtrack to Les yeux sans visage, an ever-shifting wisp and an insinuation of encroaching transfiguration. Echoing a climactic moment in the film, the music obliquely points to "the Beyond," an impossible place of discovery and revelation.

Atkinson envisioned her music as something akin to the air moving throughout and beyond the many cages that appear in the film, unconstrained by the bars and with undefined borders. Those cages hold the victims of a madman surgeon, determined to graft a new face onto his daughter, the protagonist Christiane Génessier, who lost hers in a car accident while he was behind the wheel. Atkinson was reminded of her predecessors at the pioneering French studio the GRM, who approached sound in a less sinister, but similarly surgical manner, and took inspiration from their playful approach to cerebral soundmaking for the electroacoustic topography into which the piano is embedded. As such, Atkinson’s reactions to the larger themes and the minute-by-minute happenings onscreen are both audible simultaneously.

A film about a man who destroys the lives of young women marked by their beauty and similarity to his daughter in a shame-fueled rage has clear, continuous cultural resonance. "Through the music, I decided to bring back their empowerment despite what they endure," says Atkinson. "This is why the record is also dedicated to Gisèle Pelicot, whose trial happened while I was in the process of composing the music and kept thinking of her strength and her decision to share her trial in order to reverse the shame."

This recorded version of the soundtrack is a 34-minute synthesis of the full 90-minute score, presented on LP along with an essay by writer-musician Claire Cronin and drawings by Momo Gordon, together forming a complex reflection on the film's themes. If these sounds move as if the bars of cages are no barrier, they also intimate the freedom and power of those held behind them. Rather than simply mirroring the fear and confinement shown onscreen, Atkinson offers an elusive escape, a beacon for the characters, and the listener, to follow as they reckon with the narrative and move through it.

Random ReVINYL Edition. Black Mountain, the front-line soldiers for the Black Mountain Army, an arts collective from Vancouver, British Columbia, write, perform and record music that speaks (and sings) to this realization: that solutions are rarely simple, that the world is as complex as it is ambiguous, and that music sprinkled with an inoculating dose of madness may well be the Pied Piper that takes us all back into the primordial mountain, where our hearts can be made steady and our minds can be set free. Their debut self-titled record, like a space probe built of erector set parts and transmitting secret and arcane messages to earth by string, charts territories unknown yet remains grounded by the roots of classic rock and roll. It is easy to discern these roots: Black Sabbath, Animals-era Pink Floyd, Blue Cheer, Led Zeppelin and Can. Principal songwriter Stephen McBean's vocals are a smoother, bluesier amalgam of the voices of Neil Young, Mick Jagger and perhaps a James Brown loaded on cough syrup. And when Amber Webber's voice joins Stephen's, the combination brings to mind the potency and chemistry of Richard and Linda Thompson singing together on Shoot Out The Lights, or of Meat Loaf and Ellen Foley howling together on Bat Out Of Hell. Musical comparisons aside, the Black Mountain full-length is one part protest song, one part pop-cultural commentary, and one part sick-groove-rock casserole peppered with mesmerizing ballads and intoxicating ditties. "Modern Music" is the lead-off hitter and counts its way to the imposing and riff-rife "Don't Run Our Hearts Around". Immediately thereafter, the sludge-rock masterpiece "Druganaut" establishes the fecund heart and tone of the record. Black Mountain have also just recently released a 12-inch single (on Jagjaguwar), including an extended mix of "Druganaut" on the A-side. And the band's currently sexploitative counterpart The Pink Mountaintops, a band that also pipes into the prolific well-spring of Stephen McBean's mind, released their self-titled debut record (on Jagjaguwar as well) this past summer. A video by Heather Trawick of the song "Druganaut" is included on the CD version of the Black Mountain self-titled record.

Curated by Brian d'Souza (aka Auntie Flo), Plants Can Dance is a forthcoming new compilation bringing together a global community of artists, exploring the creative possibilities of biosonification - transforming signals from plants, ecosystems and the natural world into sound. Out June 26th, the project marks the culmination of several years of d'Souza’s work across music, ecology and technology.

The album arrives at a time when more artists are turning toward nature as both subject and collaborator, such as Brian Eno’s Earth Percent, which formally recognises “Nature” as an artist. Plants Can Dance sits within a wider cultural shift, which is redefining the relationship between sound and the living world.

The project builds on several years of work by d'Souza, whose Plants Can Dance events have taken place across the UK, Europe, India and Africa, appearing in institutions including the V&A, Tate and the Design Museum. What began as a series of intimate gatherings has since evolved into a global platform, reflecting a growing appetite for work that reconnects music with the natural world.

The compilation features contributions from leading practitioners including Modern Biology (Tarun Nayar) in collaboration with saxophonist Zekarias Musele Thompson, OMMA (Olga Maximovam founder of Playtronica), Jason Singh, Dr Helen Anahita Wilson, Justin Wiggan in collaboration with celebrated Norwegian jazz musician Arve Henriksen, Lamine Touré, Bit Marten and Balam, alongside new work from d'Souza himself. Using a range of tools - from commercially available devices to bespoke modular systems - artists translate electrical activity, environmental data and organic processes into musical material.

The processes behind each piece differ - from interpreting plant biodata to translating wind patterns into compositional structures - and the results are as varied as they are compelling. The record spans ambient, jazz, electronica and modern classical, yet all pieces are unified by a shared intent: to reimagine music as a space of collaboration between human and more-than-human worlds.

At the core of Plants Can Dance is a question about how we define music, and how we choose to listen. Traditional musical forms, with their fixed tempos and predictable structures, give way here to something more fluid and less easily controlled. The listener is invited to surrender expectation and engage with sound as an evolving environment rather than a linear narrative. In this context, the compositions function as what d'Souza describes as “acoustic ecologies” - sonic systems shaped by biological, environmental and elemental forces unfolding in real time.

Accompanying the release is a printed zine offering reflections from each artist, and deeper insight into the ideas and debates surrounding this practice. Rather than presenting definitive answers, Plants Can Dance positions itself as an artistic exploration grounded in curiosity, experimentation and critical thought.

Ultimately, Plants Can Dance is less concerned with proving whether plants “make music” than with changing how we listen. By inviting audiences to engage with sound shaped by non-humans, it opens up new ways of perceiving the environments we inhabit - not as passive backdrops, but as active, dynamic participants in a shared ecological network. In doing so, it offers a quietly radical proposition: that by listening differently, we might begin to relate to the natural world differently too.

Bill Withers was a modest, gentle, and yet towering musical figure responsible for some of the most important, universally known soul hits ever written. It’s no wonder that “Just the Two of Us” and “Ain’t No Sunshine” won him two Grammy awards and undoubtedly played a huge role in getting him inducted into both the Songwriters and Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Live at Carnegie Hall is Withers' only live album, recorded on October 6, 1973 but not released until April 21, 1973. The fact that Bill got to play his heartfelt and honest soul at one of the most prestigious venues for both classical and pop music speaks volumes: his first two records Just As I Am and Still Bill were really that influential.

Bill Withers' Live At Carnegie Hall was recorded more than 50 years ago on a rainy Friday evening, but it is still regarded as one of the best live performances in the history of Soul music. Withers appears on stage with an ensemble of only the best session musicians the 1970s had to offer: Melvin Dunlap, Ray Jackson, James Gadson, Benorce Blackmon, and Bobbye Hall, at the time one of the few female session percussionists. They all had worked together on Still Bill and had the knack for expanding Bill's intimate songs to fit a hall of that size and stature. And as far as the recording goes, no corners were cut; it really feels like you're up there with them.

The set features evergreens such as "Ain't No Sunshine", "Lean On Me", "Grandma's Hands", but also tunes that are only available as part of this live set, such as "World Keeps Going Around" and "I Can't Write Left-Handed".

Bill Withers Live at Carnegie Hall is available as a limited edition of 5000 individually numbered copies on magenta vinyl, and includes printed inner sleeves and a 4-page booklet featuring liner notes on Bill Withers written by Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson and reflections by Aloe Blacc.

ReVINYL Random Color Edition. Concrete is a bracing jolt of a song, racing forward on a tightly wound post-punk riff, its call-and-response vocals capturing the turmoil and schizophrenic internal dialogue of the song's subject matter."It's about someone who's trapped in a relationship and they're being pummelled into surrender," says singer and lyricist Charlie Steen. "It's not about a physically abusive relationship - more an emotionally and psychologically draining one. The call-and-response vocals between Steen and bassist Josh Finerty is the central figure's own internal dialogue. They are dealing with two different things that they don't want to address."The band cite The Fall, Country Teasers, Television Personalities and Wire among their biggest influences, and the icily claustrophobic sound of Concrete sets it in a lineage with Magazine, Joy Division. As a lyricist, Steen is a modern flâneur, forensically observing the lives of others around him as they unspool and fracture, with Hubert Selby Jr and Irvine Welsh his primary literary influences. "That graphic and harsh style of writing always interested me," he explains. "It's not about the shock factor; it's about the fact they are talking about these things in such great detail without stripping anything back."The London five piece have swiftly earned a reputation as one of the most visceral and exhilarating live bands in the UK, their combustible shows being honed through a heavy touring schedule in the UK and across Europe. Cutting their teeth on the squat-punk scene in the Queen's Head in Brixton in 2015, where they were taken under the wing of Fat White Family, the white heat of their gigs quickly landed them support slots with Slaves and Warpaint. They were also personally invited by Billy Bragg to play the Left Field stage at Glastonbury this year.Following two singles - the AA single The Lick/Gold Hole and Tasteless on Fnord Communications as well as the digital-only Theresa May-baiting Visa Vulture (described by Steen as "the worst love song ever") - Concrete is the first track to be released as part of their record deal with Dead Oceans."We started this band as a joke that went too far," deadpans Steen. "What we do is quite strange and quite weird, but I get to meet a lot of people and I get to hear a lot of things. I am interested in the surrealism of reality."

Cut The With The Cake Knife was recorded by Rose McDowall in 1988/89 following the break up of her group Strawberry Switchblade. Produced with the aid of several musicians in several studios, the album features songs written for the fabled second Strawberry Switchblade album. More importantly perhaps it showcases the honest, direct and life-affirming songs of one of the greatest unsung songwriters of the modern pop era at a tumultuous time in her career.

Tibet opens the set and could be one of the best pop songs you've never heard. The innate sadness of the songs' content - the loss of a friendship, impending sorrow - is heightened to heart-melting level by McDowall's pop nous and melodic sensibility. Choruses and hooks are everywhere on Cake Knife, from the outsider take on stadium 80s pop in Wings Of Heaven to the spiraling, ecstatic So Vicious, a glorious anthem that highlights the human fragility in McDowall's vocal performance, an instrument that has never lost the naïve purity it first exemplified in Strawberry Switchblade's early 80s recordings. The centerpiece of the album, the title-track, is the greatest Switchblade pop chart hit that never was. Like the veiled melancholy of her former group's hits, Cut With The Cake Knife hints at a darkness beneath the gloss, a darkness that saw McDowall delve into more esoteric territory with her subsequent recordings and collaborations. Cut With The Cake Knife serves as the bridge between the pop music McDowall had been making with her friends Jill Bryson, Lawrence from Felt and Primal Scream to what became a more extreme, deep sound informed by neo-folk and post industrial music.

Rose McDowall's role in the canon has always been one of an outsider. Beginning in Glasgow's East End in the avant proto-noise group The Poems, achieving fame briefly in the 80s and then disappearing into counter-cultural folklore, the emphasis in the internet-age has been skewed towards her image and cultural significance. Unseen to many, her solo work, her groups Sorrow and Spell and her collaborations with a whole host of underground luminaries have still touched lives. As McDowall elucidates: 'They're real sad songs, about real life. I've had people come up to me to say I'd connected with them and helped them. I remember a gig in America when we made a whole room cry. It was bizarre. A couple at the front of the stage started crying and then these two boys beside and suddenly everyone was crying. And I thought, "that's power."

Night School's issue of Cut With The Cake Knife includes unpublished photographs, extensive sleeve notes from Rose McDowall and 2 bonus tracks culled from the bootleg 7' 'Don't Fear The Reaper.' First vinyl pressing is Clear w/ Black swirl; 500 only / has DL card and booklet, with a poster
CD has extensive booklet and is packaged in anO-Card.

House favourites Kai Alce, JKriv, Sean McCabe and Medlar debut on Universo Positivo with their masterful reworks from Universo Positivo’s catalog. After two years of agenda-setting sounds, the label is set to drop this classy remix EP, and in that time, founder Joseph Salvador has established the label with a mix of his own music and fresh grooves from carefully A&R’d pioneers and new school names. He has been doing much the same since the 90s with various projects from his cult TINK Records and the Tomorrow Is Now Kid! nights in Amsterdam, in collaborative production outfits like Black Tulip & Wendell Morrison, and releasing records by DJ Steaw, Malin Genie, Fabio Monesi and more. This latest release brings together some of the most respected names in the scene for four standout reworks.

First up, Atlanta-based NDATL label head Kai Alce, who has long been one of deep house's most influential architects. He flips 'Sonido Latino' into a smooth groove with jazzy, Roy Ayers-style melodies that bring a soft-focus glow and late-night intimacy. Then comes Bristol-based don Sean McCabe, a master of vintage synths with a 20-year back catalogue on seminal labels like Local Talk, Strictly Rhythm and Z Records. His take on 'Ipanema Jazz' maintains the original's samba shuffle but reframes it in a deep house groove with extra expressive jazz keys, dainty chords and playful trumpet motifs.

Brooklyn-based groove architect and Razor-N-Tape co-founder JKriv brings his many years of experience as a guitarist, producer and songwriter to his take on 'Caparica Sunset'. It's a deep, driving sound that's playful and romantic with flirtatious horns and soft acid, dusty breakbeats and luscious grooves for loved-up good time sessions. Last but never least, is Medlar, the South London underground maverick with a wide-ranging sound and album credits on the likes of the hallowed Delusions Of Grandeur. He remixes 'U R The Revolution' into a warm, euphoric rush of throwback house that's warm, melodic and sure to get the floor going right off.

Big Crown Records is proud to present Adult Themes, the latest full length offering from El Michels Affair. This album takes the band's "Cinematic Soul" aesthetic literally and sends the listener on a journey through a whirlwind of moods and energies. With their 2005 debut album Sounding Out The City, EMA spearheaded an instrumental funk / soul movement that inspired a slew of bands and even lead to the creation of a few independent record labels. El Michels has since lent his signature sound to artists from Adele to Dr John, Lana Del Rey to Aloe Blacc, and a who's who list of others. In 2016 he co-founded Big Crown Records and has since produced the lion's share of its output. A short stint as the touring band for Wu Tang Clan in 2007 led to the cult classics Enter The 37th Chamber (2009) and Return To The 37th Chamber (2017). Adult Themes marks the long awaited, highly anticipated return to an album of original compositions from El Michels Affair. In 2017 in between producing, playing, and recording on other artists' records Leon Michels began creating compilations of short interludes intended to be sampled by hip hop producers. Some of these wound up becoming songs by Jay Z & Beyonce, Travis Scott, and Don Toliver. These minute-long snippets were inspired by the dense moody work of `60s composers like David Axelrod, and Francois de Roubaix, as well as Moondog's brand of classical jazz. Michels was having so much fun creating these instrumental / orchestral nuggets that he decided to expand on some of the ideas and create what would become the soundtrack for a movie that has yet to be made, an imaginary film entitled "Adult Themes." The album plays like the colors on an artists pallet. Songs like "Rubix" and "Villa" are densely orchestrated with the hard-hitting drums that El Michels Affair is known for. On "Life of Pablo", Leon's son makes his first appearance on record and intros a song with an epic arrangement and a moving mood. "Hipps" is a drum heavy ballad that could've easily fit on EMA's debut record, Sounding Out the City. Other compositions like "The Difference" and "Kill The Lights" are bare, melodic mood pieces with sparse drums and sophisticated chord movement. All of these tunes come together to make perfect backgrounds for dialogue and action. One of the beautiful things about instrumental music is that the listener can decide what the narrative is. With Adult Themes El Michels Affair has created a "choose your own adventure" in musical form.

Newly signed to indie heavyweights Heist or Hit (Westside Cowboy, Her’s) EP two: ‘Marionette’ has been produced by Daniel Fox (Sprints, Melts, Psychotic Monks, Naked Lungs, Nerves, Ronan Group) and it’s set to be seminal. A set text for future musicians with aspirations of innovation. “The theme of the marionette is present throughout each song, involving some aspect of a power struggle and a lack of control within oneself.” Opener ‘Chocolate’ bounces in on a synth line as slippery and hyperactive as anything Aphex Twin ever cooked up. Crispy offbeat electronic cymbals play counterpoint to atonal guitars and pugilistic drumming before the track dry-wretches its way into a nauseating cacophony of euphoria. It’s a tale of crippling social anxiety and a preference for an unflattering, lonely reality. The muted guitar pluck in the intro to ‘Crows’ is the sonic equivalent of biting one’s nails. An anxious, involuntary tic that speaks to the theme of guilt, especially surrounding digital culture: “children can watch what they please, just with viewer discretion.” The track lurches between textures, weaving themselves in and out of focus. Guitars blare like sirens, interrupting paranoid urban centres at 2am, while the bass sounds like the inside of an insomniac’s head on day four of a REM drought.

The metallic intent of ‘Discipline’ squats on the chest as though Steve Albini is your sleep paralysis demon. The pain of accountability spews from the industrial regularity of the beat, apt to the narrative of a soldier coming to terms with the lies that made him commit atrocious, violent acts. EP closer ‘Servant’ starts like a Spectrum loading screen. Dial-up modem-coded, it pauses for moments of white-noise-vomit and existential bloops. Fitting for a more abstract take on the idea of the power struggle filtered through religious imagery and self-awareness of one’s own actions, coupled with an inability to exert control over them. The band pile on the textures with sadistic glee until the evil is exorcized and the modem melts. Connection severed. Across the EP, vocalist Joseph has a tendency to hyper-fixate on themes of control and unhappiness. Creating rooms in which doom and isolation ricochet. Not that it’s all bad news “we like to think that by shedding light on the negative, it commands a sense of hope.” Influenced as much by the liminal-space horror and uncanny dread of Silent Hill as the existentialist theatre of The Twilight Zone or the absurdity of Twin Peaks, they occupy a space between unease and impulse. Makeshift Art Bar are not a band interested in being liked. They’re a band interested in being necessary. There’s so much eating and drinking in their work that multiple listens simply don’t satisfy; something new reveals itself on each return visit. Audacious. Idiosyncratic. Vital. A young band carrying identity, defiance and an uncompromising vision as if it isn’t a rare cargo.

Newly signed to indie heavyweights Heist or Hit (Westside Cowboy, Her’s) EP two: ‘Marionette’ has been produced by Daniel Fox (Sprints, Melts, Psychotic Monks, Naked Lungs, Nerves, Ronan Group) and it’s set to be seminal. A set text for future musicians with aspirations of innovation. “The theme of the marionette is present throughout each song, involving some aspect of a power struggle and a lack of control within oneself.” Opener ‘Chocolate’ bounces in on a synth line as slippery and hyperactive as anything Aphex Twin ever cooked up. Crispy offbeat electronic cymbals play counterpoint to atonal guitars and pugilistic drumming before the track dry-wretches its way into a nauseating cacophony of euphoria. It’s a tale of crippling social anxiety and a preference for an unflattering, lonely reality. The muted guitar pluck in the intro to ‘Crows’ is the sonic equivalent of biting one’s nails. An anxious, involuntary tic that speaks to the theme of guilt, especially surrounding digital culture: “children can watch what they please, just with viewer discretion.” The track lurches between textures, weaving themselves in and out of focus. Guitars blare like sirens, interrupting paranoid urban centres at 2am, while the bass sounds like the inside of an insomniac’s head on day four of a REM drought.

The metallic intent of ‘Discipline’ squats on the chest as though Steve Albini is your sleep paralysis demon. The pain of accountability spews from the industrial regularity of the beat, apt to the narrative of a soldier coming to terms with the lies that made him commit atrocious, violent acts. EP closer ‘Servant’ starts like a Spectrum loading screen. Dial-up modem-coded, it pauses for moments of white-noise-vomit and existential bloops. Fitting for a more abstract take on the idea of the power struggle filtered through religious imagery and self-awareness of one’s own actions, coupled with an inability to exert control over them. The band pile on the textures with sadistic glee until the evil is exorcized and the modem melts. Connection severed. Across the EP, vocalist Joseph has a tendency to hyper-fixate on themes of control and unhappiness. Creating rooms in which doom and isolation ricochet. Not that it’s all bad news “we like to think that by shedding light on the negative, it commands a sense of hope.” Influenced as much by the liminal-space horror and uncanny dread of Silent Hill as the existentialist theatre of The Twilight Zone or the absurdity of Twin Peaks, they occupy a space between unease and impulse. Makeshift Art Bar are not a band interested in being liked. They’re a band interested in being necessary. There’s so much eating and drinking in their work that multiple listens simply don’t satisfy; something new reveals itself on each return visit. Audacious. Idiosyncratic. Vital. A young band carrying identity, defiance and an uncompromising vision as if it isn’t a rare cargo.

Uncompromising Italian DJ/producer The Southern makes his vinyl debut on Mutual Rytm's sub-label, Spectra, with remixes from Alarico, Temudo and Sciahri. An EP marking an impressive label debut, Carmine Portarulo, aka The Southern, lands on Mutual Rytm’s sub- label Spectra with a powerful showcase of his much-loved sound. With the lead track featuring as one of label head SHDW's most requested IDs of the year so far, and packaged alongside outstanding remixes by close label associates Alarico, Temudo and Sciahri, the EP comes having established himself with a sound rooted in old school value and pure techno, favouring energy and authenticity over hype. The track’s backstory comes from the moment Carmine and his partner found out they were expecting a child and went for their first ultrasound appointment. Overwhelmed by the emotion of the moment and the beauty of what nature is capable of, he returned home and poured those feelings into the music. The result, ‘Ultrasound’, is an anthemic, punchy techno cut with euphoric energy rising up through the synths and its catchy lead melody. Joyful melodies sparkle amid vocal groans, adding a raw emotional pull as the warm, driving drums march on. Berlin-based artist Alarico is the first to remix on his return to the label, and his ‘Sad Mix’ has a more melancholic mood, with dark chords and tightly programmed drums that bring lo-key funk. Hayes Collective founder Temudo also returns and flips the vibe on his ‘Neuro Interpretation’ with a more psyched-out, twisted tune featuring trippy synths and booming drums for peak-time impact. Italo-Iranian Sublunar Records head Sciahri then drops his trance- inducing, hypotonic ‘Tunnel Vision Mix’, followed by two digital bonuses: ‘The Stripped Mix’, a bouncy workout with futuristic melodies, and Temudo’s ‘Neuro Interpretation 2’, which is raw, textured, and dark.

After finding their feet with a couple of remixes for Before I Die, Talking Drums ditch their sea legs and swap the pirate booty of their cult edit series for a five-track EP of original productions, each swimming in LinnDrums, digital chimes and synth-vox sunshine. Summer sounds abound as the crew refract house, disco, ambient and dub through shimmering sea glass, bringing the beach to the bar, club, garden or grotto.

Inspired equally by tropical Sceneries (but Not Songs), Ecco the Dolphin and Echoes of Wally, as well as a few tall tales about trendy whales, this 16-bit caper makes a splash from wave top to bikini bottom. Written and produced as a cohesive EP over three sun-baked weeks in 2025, and stitched together with field recordings and found sounds from Sicily, rural France, Japan and Singapore, Pier Pressure sees each track flow into the next: distinct seas that make up one larger ocean.

Opener ‘Fashionable Whale’ surfaces with mystic motifs and dreamy pads arcing above the spray before a purring low end and drum-box shuffle plunge us into Balearic house depths. A rippling breakdown, bookended by insistent arps, provides respite from the rhythm before the low-tempo pulse returns to take us home. Sticking with Zone 2 cardio, ‘Salmon Hats’ serves wonky disco at Valium pace, its beatific vox and glittering sequences underpinned by a hip-swivelling bassline and topped with a future-primitive melody. After drifting into dream house for a sunset lull, it’s back to the beat and the enduring question of how best to dance on a lilo.

‘Mangrove’ offers an intertidal intermission as tuned percussion finds a place among the cicadas and lapping waves, gently unfolding into an RPGambient ode to humid languor. Refreshed, albeit ailed by a sunstroke haze, we’re back on the dance floor with the optimistic motifs and jolly polyrhythms of ‘Flutti Di Mare’, an uptempo, Afro-adjacent house workout designed to inspire mile-wide smiles. Then the EP sails off into the sunset with the fathoms-deep delight of ‘Squid Dub’, a Cousteau-coded cod-reggae stepper with digi-dub bass, pound-shop marimba and all manner of THCtinged FX. Don’t be deceived by the loose and limber opening: a solid sequencer emerging at the midpoint sees the Squid squeeze every bit of bump out of the finale.

Forget ATOL protection - Talking Drums deliver your summer holiday directly to your stereo.

Bella Boo lands on Aus Music with a mix of party-starting and heart-racing house jams

Swedish artist KURT. brings her characterful style to the title cut

Bella Boo has lit up the house world since breaking through in 2018. She has become a Studio Barnhus mainstay with a sound that is both emotional and energetic in the way it contrasts light and dark. It's built on solid grooves with fresh sound designs and has taken her to dj everywhere from Panorama Bar to Printworks. Her debut LP, as well as follow-up EPs, have seen her nominated for several Swedish Grammys and seen her profile grow around the world. KURT. is a rising star from Stockholm with an electric sound that blends club, r&b, pop and soul. It's high on attitude and laced with her own provocative vocals. She guests on opener 'Shake Down', which is a chunky, bass-first rhythm packed with character: hints of jungle breaks, heat-damaged synths and blasts of gloopy bass all bring the fun before KURT.'s vocal motifs - which are variously sultry, whispered and visceral - inject even more heat. The Regrette Rien Mix takes on a late-night feel with sustained chords and a silky smooth vocal from KURT. that turns you inwards. Bella Boo then goes solo for the super vibey 'Atlas', a deep, cruising house cut with catchy percussion and lush, layered bells. The golden chords and shimmering pads are immersive and expansive as the bass powered on. Lastly, '8Ball' quickens your step with bumpy kicks and increasingly detuned, wonky synths that bring a future feel to a punchy yet cuddly and feel-good groove.

Somewhere between krautrock, noise rock, decaying psychedelia, and pagan proto-punk, Dééfait makes music like one performs a ritual: in trance, on repeat, and without a safety net. From the chaotic arteries of Mexico City to the basement venues of the Paris suburbs, Dééfait sculpts noise rock in apnea. Their self-titled debut EP is a noise rite: a wall of guitars, incantatory percussion, and possessed voices. With Dééfait, sound twists, repeats, stretches, until exhaustion and ecstasy. Formed in 2023, Dééfait brings together the Valero brothers (Lucas on guitar / Pablo, ex-Pays P, on drums), Enir Da (bass - Temir Alcy, Dali Muru & the Polyphonic Swarm), Grégoire Couvert (guitar), and Riki Lara, a Mexican-born vocalist and performer whose lyrics _ chanted, whispered, shouted _ alternate in three languages: English, Spanish, and French. Active on the Paris underground scene since 2024 (La Mécanique Ondulatoire, Le Cirque Électrique, Nouveaux Sauvages_), Dééfait imposes a ritual tension, physical, almost hallucinatory. No choruses to hum along to, no comforting melodies _ just a dense sonic flow that seeps and vibrates. This debut EP, set for release in December 2025 on Ici, d'ailleurs (Zëro, Matt Elliott, Bruit Noir_), lines up six long tracks resembling pagan litanies. Six extended pieces forming a possessed monologue, as if a camera had been slipped inside a burning body. Everything pants. Everything overflows. From We Love Each Other So Much That We Won't Belong To Any Species Anymore, love exceeds expected forms and becomes an organic pact, a ritual of species departure: "Cut me like you want, in bloom your fire," "We scratch consanguinity / We don't belong to any species anymore." It quickly suggests a call to ecstasy, to trance. The EP as a whole navigates unstable zones where desire, sacrifice, and alienation entwine like serpents on acid. Molokh 8 chants an offering to a carnivorous deity, between severed tongue and chemical body. In Bondbondbond, voices entangle, seek each other in a delirious, sensual chiaroscuro where pleasure derails into compulsion. It's a dogma-free ceremony, a game of inverted masks. Alether _ a live-explosive track and perhaps the most powerful of this first project _ shatters frameworks: convulsive dancing, possessed rhythms drowned by waves of guitar. Finally, Ferreri, cook for us closes the EP as a dark farce: a deviant homage to Italian filmmaker Marco Ferreri, the track chews and regurgitates words as if digesting an overfed world. Recorded in the chaos of DIY and mixed as a raw work, the record captures Dééfait's electric discharge in its purest state. The sound is dirty, visceral, possessed. Think Terminal Cheesecake, Boredoms, Nick Cave-era Birthday Party on acid, but also CAN impaled on an autopsy table, or a Giallo under a strobe light_ Yet it emerges as a singular work.

Veinyl returns with Decant Vol 1, the fourth release and the label's first Various Artists compilation. Rooted in the label’s philosophy of connecting sound, atmosphere, and the social ritual surrounding a good bottle of wine, this record unites producers from the deeper edges of house and tech-house. Much like wine, which brings people together and reveals different notes with every sip, Veinyl seeks to curate music that encourages listeners to savour the moment and discover new layers with each play.

Diego Krause opens the bottle with “Currents,” setting the tone with controlled momentum. Punchy kick and bass sync with swinging hats and airy pads as crystalline synths gradually expand in colour, culminating in sparse, darker echoes and an understated atmosphere in its final moments. Lescano’s “Illusion” uses a stripped-back tech-house palette of resonant dubby chords, vocal echoes, and funky bass stabs, all thrown into motion, ready for the dancefloor. On the flip, NVNDO & Until6’s “Donkey Long” brings a playful shift: bongo-driven percussion, rubbery grooves, and 90s-tinted house basslines and synthwork give it a hint of Balearic flavour without losing club weight. Skotsch closes with “Blood,” a dark, jacking tune where acidic basslines, razor-sharp drum programming, and teasing vocal fragments close the V.A. out with punch and style.

With Decant Vol. I, Veinyl distils its approach into four tracks that move between minimal house atmosphere and tech-house mechanics without losing focus on groove. It’s a compilation that highlights the label’s ear for subtle detail and functional design, pointing toward a catalogue shaped less by trends than by carefully curated underground talent and special dancefloor moments.

The 41st release on TECHNO Records marks a defining milestone: the first full- scale solo record by the label’s founder, Nastia, in her music career. It opens up a new depth of detail within the character and identity of both the artist and the catalogue.

Rather than making a loud statement, Nastia focuses on a restrained and functional approach to techno, shaped through subtle shifts in tension, texture, and rhythm. The tracks move with intention, avoiding obvious peaks in favour of gradual development and controlled energy—a familiar methodology and a direct analogy to the evolution of the label itself. Crafted with dancefloor energy in mind but not bound by it, the release offers a fresh perspective on the author’s persona, stripping away excess and overexplanation. It leaves ample room for the listener’s imagination and a versatile, expert application within a DJ set.

The trajectory of ascents and shifting attention in an artist’s career is the only honest path, providing material for reflection and the anchoring of values. This depth of experience cannot be replicated by overnight success or short-lived peaks—only decades of exploration, trial, and error can forge a work built to endure. Studio work becomes a new instrument for Nastia to build value capital, while her debut solo EP stands as an artefact marking a historic point for the author and the label.

TECH041

A1 “Indoctrinated” — a masterclass in rhythmic interplay used as a narrative device. It functions as a sonic manifesto: universally accessible yet distinctly individual. A process-driven track, its strength lies in its ability to repeatedly shift the listener’s focus. It serves as an ideal transitional tool, offering a calculated awakening from a hypnotic state.

A2 “Ignorance Is Keelleeng” — a structured dancefloor powerhouse built on a precise understanding of peak-time energy. Functioning as a set-defining anchor, it allows the DJ to pivot the mix in any direction without losing momentum. A true catalyst track that opens up new sonic horizons.

B1 “True Majority” — the most forward-thinking cut on the record, providing a definitive blueprint for the hypnotic techno sound of summer 2026. It presents a multi-layered, all-encompassing sonic tapestry that interacts with the listener while maintaining a strictly restrained narrative. A motif-driven track that subtly exposes an underlying tension.

B2 “Additive Integration” — best conceptualised within an extended set where the goal is to gradually establish the atmosphere and dictate the rules of the journey. A track built on anticipation, it conserves energy and conceals its inner mechanics until the final acts. It compels the listener to decode its sonic language for full comprehension.