Cerca:once human

New album from Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit, tackling issues such as gun violence, the opioid crisis, and women's rights all through Isbell's signature songwriting lens. Weathervanes is a collection of grown-up songs: Songs about adult love, about change, about the danger of nostalgia and the interrogation of myths, about cruelty and regret and redemption. Life and death songs played for and by grown ass people. Some will make you cry alone in your car and others will make you sing along with thousands of strangers in a big summer pavilion, united in the great miracle of being alive. A Jason Isbell record always lands like a decoder ring in the ears and hearts of his audience, a soundtrack to his world and magically to theirs, too. Weathervanes carries the same revelatory power. This is a storyteller at the peak of his craft, observing his fellow wanderers, looking inside and trying to understand, reducing a universe to four minutes. He shrinks life small enough to name the fear and then strip it away, helping his listeners make sense of how two plus two stops equalling four once you reach a certain age - and carry a certain amount of scars. Jason Isbell has established himself as one of the most respected and celebrated songwriters of his generation. The North Alabama native possesses an incredible penchant for identifying and articulating some of the deepest, yet simplest, human emotions, and turning them into beautiful poetry through song. Isbell sings of the everyday human condition with thoughtful, heartfelt, and sometimes brutal honesty. The record features the rolling thunder of Isbell’s fearsome 400 Unit, who’ve earned a place in the rock ‘n’ roll cosmos alongside the greatest backing ensembles, as powerful and essential to the storytelling as The E Street Band or the Wailers.

Here comes something unapologetically goth.

Male Tears is the dark electro group consisting of vocalist, James Edward and synthesist, Frank Shark. Hailing from Los Angeles, what began as a solo project re-established itself as a duo in 2021, simultaneously moving from the breezy sounds of the first self-titled album to darker realms with their sophomore Trauma Club.

Krypt is their third full-length recording and it shows a fully grown ensemble capable of pushing everything over the top; blending elements of darkwave, goth rock, EBM and futurepop into a sound they call Dark Rave.

Naturally drawing inspiration from the Californian goth tradition (45 Grave, Christian Death) and the Canadian post-industrial brood (Skinny Puppy, FLA), as well as the best UK synthpop (Depeche Mode, The Human League), Male Tears emphasizes the most glamourous, and at once, gruesome aspects of the whole gothic subculture, bringing everything to the next level, resulting in a contemporary and cutting edge album.

Eight new cuts that alternate rarefied synthwave (Krypt), dark eurodance (Slay) with goth techno-pop (Sleep 4Ever) and pounding electro-industrial (I Expire) to create something we may call New Romantic Body Music. It’s no wonder we wanted the scene’s top studio, La Distilleria, run by Maurizio Baggio, to master this for the most bombastic outcome.

And yet Krypt is not just about the music, it’s about one up with the times attitude that can review aggressive EBM in the light of an extravagant pop sensibility and a theatrical grandeur worthy of the Blitz Kids from London circa 1979-80.

You may think it takes quite a bit of nonchalance to do so but the L.A. duo easily succeeds at this. Akin to their aesthetics, they may seem spooky from the outside but their approach is nothing stuffy. Quite the contrary, everything regarding Male Tears is a celebration of life’s most bizzare shades, driven by some of the best dark humor you’ll find around.

So Dance with me, my dear, on a dancefloor of bones and skulls / The music is our master The devil controls our souls.

Sometimes, things "just happen". For months, we’d been working away on various projects and then, without really thinking about it, The Black EP just happened. It seemingly appeared from nowhere.

We’d been talking about the old days; making music with friends and dodgy kit, renting small practice rooms and using makeshift recording studios. It was such a common thing back then, you could pick a dusty space in a half-derelict building for as little as £25 a month. In those days, the Cabs and Human League had studios with posh-sounding names, but in reality, they were the same old workspaces long abandoned by the industries they were built for. Nevertheless, the grand names made them sound magical.

Sheffield had thousands of these spaces, and some still exist today, but their abundance and low-cost made Sheffield a very active place. Someone was always doing something. They’d exploded onto the scene in a flurry of excitement before disappearing just as quickly.

There’s something about these little mesters (workshops) that we believe lives in the very consciousness of Sheffield. It’s one of the reasons we never really had big scenes like Manchester or Leeds. The Hacienda would've never been built here.

We don’t really do big gangs or have that kind of mentality. We tend to exist in little pockets, often leaving each other alone. It would be 30 years before any member of The Black Dog talked to Cabaret Voltaire. Sure, we’d stood outside their practice room as kids, trying to listen in, but never felt any reason to approach. Sheffield is like that.

Once we had the first two tracks of the Black EP, we set off to see Jon at Do It Theesen, where he manually cut the tracks to an extremely limited set of 7" singles using a vinyl lathe. It just felt right to go back to the old ways; a small gang creating something special in workshops and sheds. There’s something very satisfying about it, a perfect circle, if you will.

We pushed further by adopting old practices, working with one synth per person and limiting the use of our computers. We only stopped short of putting everything on beer crates. It seems like madness these days, but there is raw creativity within these confines. Pretty much every band started this way. Depeche Mode travelled to the studio on the London Underground for their first appearance on Top Of The Pops, all lugging a synth each. That's how we approached the creation of this album; stripped back, raw and minimal - it just felt so right.

And then there’s the competitive element that was influenced when the original Human League split and became Human League MK II and Heaven 17. Both continued to use the same studio to write what became the albums "Dare" and "Penthouse and Pavement". There is something about that drive that is very Sheffield, just making stuff and hoping everything falls into place.

In Sheffield, we do things differently, because that’s how we are built. away on various projects and then, without really thinking about it, The Black EP just happened. It seemingly appeared from nowhere.

The Croatian production powerhouse and disco boogie impresario steps up to International Feel, and takes a left turn into deep space with a new six track LP Pulsar Diaries.

Ilija’s discography stretches back to 2003, and over those 20 years he’s packed it full with albums, versions, remixes and singles. His releases are often perfectly-penned love letters to ‘80s boogie, electro and disco, and like postcards from an old flame, they’ve landed in an array of record label catalogs, from Bear Funk, Rong, and Electric Minds, to Is It Balearic? as well as his own Red Music and Imogen Recordings. He’s long-been an active voice on the underground club scene, and if you’ve been out dancing in Zagreb, Berlin or even Tisno beach, chances are you’ve gotten down to one of his beautifully blended sets of cosmic-tinged electro funk and disco dubs.

On Pulsar Diaries, Ilija delivers a panoramic collection of spaced-out synths and drum machine grooves, dedicated to the planet and our place in the universe. The A side opens up with the blissful, weightless pads of the title track, before it breaks out into filtered stabs over a minimal b-boy bounce. Delphic Expanse ebbs and flows like a lunar eclipse, sounding like a futuristic version of Key-Matic’s Breaking In Space, all uprock rhythms and syrupy synth horns as it spins off beyond the asteroid belt. Side A closes out with Blackburn Tales, a suspenseful and spacious electro rhythm packed with strings and 303 squelch, which you might call anti-gravity acid, if you were so inclined.

Side B picks up the tempo with Fourth Amendment, perfect for the space station discotheque with its sweeping bass filters and ice-cold synth melodies hovering in orbit. Farewell Theme takes an introspective moment, slowing the pace to a cosmic 90 bpm and inviting a certain cinematic feel to proceedings. This feeling applies not just to the vivid landscapes we travel through, but also wider thoughts about humankind: as we pause for a breath and look around, we find ourselves in Ilija’s space, considering human motivations, like the pursuit of happiness, or the eternal struggle with the self.

Every journey begins with a goodbye, and so the last track of the album feels like the arrival at a new destination: Ursa Major is ablaze with cascading drum fills, bubble-wrapped bass riffs and bright synth chords that sparkle like city lights underneath a re-orbiting satellite.

With Pulsar Diaries, Ilija Rudman has created a rare artifact: an album that straddles several worlds at once. Part soundtrack to space travel, part meditation on the human condition, part deep-burning dancefloor dynamo - whether in the club surrounded by friends or at home by yourself, this is a record that expands the mind and lets the imagination soar.

Introducing ‘Duality’, the new double album from Andrew Bayer. Two musical threads weave through the collected works of Andrew Bayer. One thread gave us the downtempo masterclass of 2013’s ‘If It Were You We’d Never Leave’ and the brilliant 'In My Last Life' LP. The other thread produced arena-sized anthems like 2014’s ‘Once Lydian’, his epic 'Super Human' with Asbjørn and the club remix project 'In My Next Life'. From the introspective to the explosive, these records are our community’s shared soundtrack: we’ve all got a favourite Andrew Bayer record. But they have come in so many forms and styles. It leaves us asking the question, who exactly is Andrew Bayer? It’s a question he’s asked himself. “Since day one, I have always struggled with how to present myself. I love making these experimental home listening albums of electronica and indie sounds, but I also love DJing and making trance bangers. On my last album I had to remix the album in full after it was released to make the worlds fit. This time around I wanted to capture all the breadth, depth and tension within that duality under one single project” - Andrew Bayer ‘Duality’ brings these two creative threads together under one album for the first time since his debut album 'It's Artificial'. Crafted over three years, Bayer is joined by an eclectic cast of collaborators old and new. ‘Duality’ pt. 1 explores Bayer’s passion for downtempo and indie-pop, while ‘Duality’ pt. 2 takes on his forward-thinking trance and progressive sond. Both are tied by Bayer's unique vision, a shared sensibility and same group of collaborators. Today, you can hear a sample from each side: ‘Equal’ (with Asbjørn), and ‘Midnight’ (with Alison May). ‘Duality’ is the true follow up to my first album ‘It’s Artificial’. It is by far my most raw and honest work, and I can’t wait to celebrate the album around the world with you all on tour” - Andrew Bayer

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Grey Vinyl

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

White Vinyl

Did you know that miracles happen every day? We don't always see it that way We look at the state of the world and think, "It'll be a miracle if we make it out alive." But miracles are what humans do. We're Earth's most inventive and unpredictable species, when we're allowed to be. Also the most destructive. Miracle-Level is Deerhoof's mystical manifesto on creativity and trust. It celebrates the infinite small wonders of existence that spontaneously present themselves, when not obstructed by our death-driven masters. Musically, Miracle-Level is vulnerable, brave, and brimming with spicy surprises. Deerhoof's 19th album is also their their first to be recorded and mixed in a recording studio. Production was entrusted to Mike Bridavsky, at No Fun Club in Winnipeg, Manitoba. This is also their first album written entirely in Satomi's native language. Deerhoof once again speak in a secret code that only their fans understand, in which hooks abound, and genre is nonexistent.

Tape

Did you know that miracles happen every day? We don't always see it that way We look at the state of the world and think, "It'll be a miracle if we make it out alive." But miracles are what humans do. We're Earth's most inventive and unpredictable species, when we're allowed to be. Also the most destructive. Miracle-Level is Deerhoof's mystical manifesto on creativity and trust. It celebrates the infinite small wonders of existence that spontaneously present themselves, when not obstructed by our death-driven masters. Musically, Miracle-Level is vulnerable, brave, and brimming with spicy surprises. Deerhoof's 19th album is also their their first to be recorded and mixed in a recording studio. Production was entrusted to Mike Bridavsky, at No Fun Club in Winnipeg, Manitoba. This is also their first album written entirely in Satomi's native language. Deerhoof once again speak in a secret code that only their fans understand, in which hooks abound, and genre is nonexistent.

Recommended If You Like: Boredoms, OOIOO, Blonde Redhead, Guerilla Toss, Rolling Stones, Liars, Marnie Stern, Yoko Ono, Battles. Cover by acclaimed photographer and artist Kunie Sugar White Vinyl / White Cassette available while stocks last. Did you know that miracles happen every day? We don’t always see it that way. We look at the state of the world and think, “It’ll be a miracle if we make it out alive.” But miracles are what humans do. We’re Earth’s most inventive and unpredictable species, when we’re allowed to be. Also the most destructive. Miracle-Level is Deerhoof’s mystical manifesto on creativity and trust. It celebrates the infinite small wonders of existence that spontaneously present themselves, when not obstructed by our death-driven masters. Musically, Miracle-Level is vulnerable, brave, and brimming with spicy surprises. Deerhoof’s 19th album is also their their first to be recorded and mixed in a recording studio. Production was entrusted to Mike Bridavsky, at No Fun Club in Winnipeg, Manitoba. This is also their first album written entirely in Satomi’s native language. Deerhoof once again speak in a secret code that only their fans understand, in which hooks abound, and genre is nonexistent.

Valencian producer Pépe's love of iridescent melodies, velvety pads and complex rhythms has seen him skilfully combine house, bass music and breakbeat in recent years. His music is globally reaching, having garnered attention from top artists including Ben UFO, Peggy Gou, Shanti Celeste, Moxie, Mount Kimbie and Disclosure.

His heartfelt, mercurial and emotive sound is ever present on his new album for Lapsus, which also incorporates a lush sonic forest, resplendent in detail and jam packed with influences. The album 'Reclaim' opens the door to experimentation and sound design, while embracing the braindance and hyperpop sphere with surprising maturity. It is an amalgamation of electronic sounds and pulsating structures in which orchestral sounds, folk music, ambient textures and an strong vocal presence, both synthetic and authentic, sparkle.

'Reclaim' imagines a post-human future, where nature once again reclaims lost ground and is free to flourish and take root around manmade structures. Pépe exhibits his personal reverence for the work of Antonio Cortés Ferrando, the architect behind the Espai Verd building, which broke architectural and urban planning norms by using computation to create structures that promote the organic growth of foliage. It is a building designed for the future, where flora cultivates indefinitely.

In Pépe’s own words, "At a time when we have witnessed how nature strives to regain ground, once humans are removed from the streets, it is important to start thinking critically about new techniques in the creation of art and design, and imagining a future where posterity is embodied in the rejuvenation of a greener world".

Ground Groove, the third full-length release from the LA-based, Iranian-American producer and DJ, Maral, begins with an invocation: the sprawling, achingly heavy Feedback Jam opens the floodgates of history. Conventional (linear) spacetime collapses, crushed beneath the track’s lumbering 4/4 heartbeat and successive waves of distortion. As each wave recedes, samples trickle forward in the mix — seeking, perhaps, to fill the void. Voices and instruments rise and fall in uncanny reverse. Overlapping, implied melodies flicker into focus, then flit away. Feedback Jam is at once an initiation ritual, and a thesis statement for the record that follows.

Drawing upon a vast personal archive of Iranian folk, classical, and pop recordings (some sourced from mixtapes made by her parents in the eighties/nineties), Maral presents, on Ground Groove, a further refinement of the signature “folk club” sound she developed as a live DJ— a sound she would later codify on Mahur Club (2019) and Push (2020). By collecting, dissecting, and re/presenting sonic fragments from Iran, Maral practices a kind of dance-floor ethnomusicology. The subject of her inquiry: Iranian


culture and contexts, throughout history and in the present. But, crucially, this inquiry is instantiated within and throughout the body of the listener, whether this listener is dancing in the club, or riding the train, nodding along with headphones on.

Maral speaks of being in collaboration with her samples, treating each as a distinct bandmate, often consulting with an artist’s catalog (or even a single recording) as one would a trusted creative partner. In so-doing, Maral claims to seek to transcend the self. In this regard, her output neatly triangulates contemporary dance and heavy music with much of the traditional religious music that she samples. Broadly speaking, each of these idioms addresses a desire —shared by audience and performer alike—to transcend the self through volume, repetition, and movement.

Having, in her youth, studied the Setar under Nader Majd (the founder of Virginia’s Center for Persian Classical Music), Maral cycled through various genres (ex: punk, emo, dub) in her adolescence and early twenties, all the while expanding her knowledge of, and appreciation for, Iran’s diverse musical traditions during regular summer trips to Tehran. In college, Maral taught herself to make beats with a ripped copy of Ableton (which remains her DAW of choice), eventually transitioning to playing and hosting various club nights. Forever abiding by an autodidactic, DIY impulse to create art and foster community, Maral relocated to Los Angeles in 2013, where she quickly immersed herself in the city’s numerous overlapping music scenes.

Collaboration (beyond sampling) has proven an important component of her process, with notable spoken word contributions from the likes of Lee Scratch Perry and Penny Rimbaud, as well as a 2021 Panda Bear collab track (On Your Way), which the Animal Collective founder co-produced. Maral is equally attentive to the visual components of her records (album art, music videos, etc.), drawing upon the work of peers and friends for inspiration.

Indeed, the genesis of Ground Groove can be traced back to an audio-visual collaboration between Maral and the artist Brenna Murphy, originally commissioned for the 2021 Rewire Festival — a project that would eventually serve as the album’s foundation. Tracks eight through eleven on Ground Groove comprise Maral’s half of this installation, with tracks one through seven composed afterwards, inspired by the fruits of Maral and Murphy’s collaboration. Murphy’s visuals will be released alongside Ground Groove as a visual accompaniment. Additionally, Murphy designed the album’s art, directed the video for the lead single (the aforementioned Feedback Jam), and is featured on track six, Shy Night.

Composed largely on Ableton, Ground Groove features more frequent and more prominent live recordings from Maral (guitar, bass, and vocals) than either Push or Mahar Club. The cult favorite Roland MC-909 groovebox rears its head on Mari’s Groove. Mixed by Trayer Tryon (Hundred Waters) and mastered by Daddy Kev, the attention to sonic quality on Ground Groove constitutes another significant step in Maral’s development as a studio artist.

Ground Groove’s eleven tracks are “grooves” in the obvious sense, in that they are each driven by a persistent, propulsive rhythm, but the album’s title may just as well suggest the glacial passage of time—the scope of human history, in which individual voices, like streams, carve paths (impossibly) through earth and stone, winding their way to the vast sea of the present.

Tartelet Records is thrilled to present the debut album from Doc Sleep – 10 tracks of exquisitely rendered melodies and rhythms shaped with grit and beauty in equal measure. Birds (in my mind anyway) is a widescreen vision of electronica as a medium to express your personal situation and respond to your environment – a rave adjacent art form free from the perceived rules of the dancefloor. To date, Melissa Maristuen known as Doc Sleep has established herself in the context of the club – first engaging with the culture in San Francisco before moving to Berlin. She helps run the Room 4 Resistance party, DJs on Refuge Worldwide, co- owns the Jacktone label and has released on Detour, Dark Entries and her own label. But in making Birds (in my mind anyway) she set herself an ultimatum.

“At the time of recording this album, my life, all my routines and priorities had to change – music was no exception. I decided if I couldn't be happy making an album free of the dancefloor, I was finally going to be done with music. Instead, I found a musical voice free of tempo and textural restriction. Eventually, I had a sound, and once I had the sound, the album came pretty quickly. It was a very different process writing music for no one...except myself.”

If the impression given is one of a consistent style across the album, think again. Doc Sleep moves freely between tempos and themes, even if there are some recurring qualities binding the music together. She weaves fluttering arps with poise, lending them an almost choral quality which gives the album a very human touch. But they’re equally emotionally ambiguous or pockmarked with sonic interference – reflections of the collisions and conflicts
that typify the human experience.

Every inch of the album is a personal touch – the title was pulled from Doc Sleep’s mother’s response to hearing the album, while her friend Kiernan Laveaux offered a beautiful text which appears on the back. Those closest to her all fed into the artwork process, which captures the curious dichotomy between urban brutalism and botanical finery often found in the parks of Berlin – a vital place of respite when she was making the album.

Canto Ostinato is the new volume of classical minimalism from musician and producer Erik Hall. Written for four pianos in 1979 by Dutch composer Simeon ten Holt, the piece is freshly framed as an intimate, hour-long solo performance consisting of multitracked grand pianos, electric piano, and organ. Modern yet warm, ethereal yet tangible, Hall's Canto Ostinato expertly bridges a revered piece of meditative concert repertoire with a tactile and highly personal studio setting. Chicago-born and Michigan-based, Erik Hall is known as a multi-instrumental pillar for the groups NOMO, Wild Belle, and his own songwriting moniker In Tall Buildings. He has composed music for feature films, and as a producer/engineer he has shaped records for Natalie Bergman and Western Vinyl labelmates Lean Year. In a 2020 creative pivot, he chose to reinvent composer Steve Reich's monumental contemporary classical masterpiece Music for 18 Musicians as a solo undertaking, applying the piece's score to the familiar keyboards, guitars, and synthesizers in his studio. "At the time I think I was working through my identity as a musician and an artist," Hall explains, "and on a level there was some sort of exorcism of a long held pop spirit." The album was celebrated for being "freshly thrilling" and "legible in history but assertive of the moment" (Pitchfork) and "beguiling, meditational, and magical" (Electronic Sound). It won the 2021 Libera Award for Best Classical Record, and it quickly joined the canon of the piece's quintessential recordings. "There is a pseudo-meditational benefit to working on a longform piece that's built on repetition," Hall says. "Every stage- from internalizing the music, to executing the performance, to editing and mixing the record- requires deep and sustained presence of mind. I've always been drawn to a hallucinatory combination of harmony and repetition, and I found the entire process addictive." An apt second chapter, Canto Ostinato is inherently vast, and its score gives great creative license to the performer. Comprising 106 sections, complete freedom is given to repeat each one as many or as few times as desired. Additional leeway is given with regard to dynamics, articulation, and even instrumentation. On the heels of his previous, rather maximal arrangement, Hall chose to limit this album's palette to three foundational keyboards of his studio: a 1962 Hammond M-101 organ, a 1978 Rhodes Mark I electric piano, and his family-heirloom 1910 Steinway grand piano. "This particular piece brought the added challenge of rekindling my dexterity as a pianist, something I haven't maintained in earnest since I was a teenager," he admits. The ensuing five-note rhythmic motif- the piece's primary building block- is steady and workmanlike, forgoing virtuosic flare for depth, texture, and resonance, and eventually giving way to the stunning gratification of a gorgeously lyrical left turn. As with Music for 18 Musicians, Hall employed no loops nor quantization nor any programmed or sequenced instruments of any kind. Every part was performed live in a room and captured with microphones, one at a time, each informed by, and reacting to the last. In this way the record breathes with interplay and an organic humanity, complete with flaws, noise, and the faint sound of turning pages. The recording quality is nonetheless toneful and saturated, characteristic of Hall's production style and straying from the usual transparency of classical albums by using gear with tubes, transformers, and various stages of compression in the signal path. Always there is unmistakable realism and the feeling of being present in the room, sitting among the keys, hammers, and tines. Ten Holt said: "Time, patience and discipline are the prerequisites for making a genetic code productive." His landmark composition provides Hall once again with a wondrous space in which to reverently embody this sentiment and deftly convey the elegant beauty of this music.

Strange Submissions from an extraterrestrial breed. Half Dog, Half Human, Half Racketeer. Hayter and Milium, the ones to first witness these outlandish sounds, present Dog Balls – Tell It To My Dog. A 6-track EP made by and for the shapeshifter in each of us. Dark and bittersweet hymns of loved ones long lost, robotic odes to fetching and synth-laden dialectics on shoplifting. A once in a lifetime offer. Be quick for their ship will come.

DOUBLE BLACK LP : 2 x 140 G Black Vinyl , Sleeve & 2 x Heavy Weight Printed Inner with UV Gloss Finish

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

2 x Solid White LP, 5mm spine Sleeve UV Gloss Finish, 2x Heavy Weight Printed Inner Sleeve UV Gloss finish, marketing sticker.

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

Cryptically-named duo JOHN - comprised of John Newton (drums, lead vocals) and Johnny Healey (guitar, backing vocals) - return with their first new music since the release of their acclaimed third album Nocturnal Manoeuvres . It comes in the guise of the blistering 'Theme New Bond Junior', the A-side of a new 7" single, b/w 'Hopper on the Dial'.

Set to undulating guitar riffs and a greater sense of dynamics than ever before, 'Theme New Bond Junior' finds JOHN tackling the questioning feelings that arose as the band returned to the live circuit once venues began to open their doors as they embarked on a rapturous 30-date UK tour in autumn 2021, as well as recent festival slots at Green Man, End of the Road, Latitude, a main stage appearance at Bearded Theory’s Spring Gathering and a memorable return to the mainland at Belgium’s historic ROCK HERK.

“The arts function as a mirror of our wider culture, and it’s been interesting to see how the acceleration of the present affects most aspects of our lives - including the production of art and music," says Newton. "The track was a gestation on the speed of consumption: this includes both the constant update/obsolescence of physical products and their resulting affect on the human attention span.”

Infinite Machine is proving again it's a label that refuses to sonically sit still. Having released everything from code-based compositions to bass-heavy techno in 2022, the imprint is readying the release of the black metal-tinged Ehkta by BOLT RUIN later this month. A musician whose work has been described as 'apocalyptic' more than once, on this new mini-album, the Belgian producer blends field recordings, twisted samples and rave signifiers with an eerie tonality born out of his nocturnal production sessions and time spent absorbing the silence of his studio garden.

Bridging the gap from his previous record to this one, 'Sktone' is a cinematic opener that unfolds like a bad dream in slow motion. Warped samples of Bulgarian choirs glide over synths wired in closed-circuit loops which feed back on themselves, degrading for infinity. Texture and space is added via field recordings of waves crashing over the ruins of Brighton West Pier. This track exemplifies the unexpected influence BOLT RUIN took from the wildlife he witnessed in the garden of his urban studio when working on Ehkta. Adapting to the material at their disposal, weasels and blackbirds create nests from organic waste and human trash - an astute metaphor for the Belgian producer's compositional approach.

Next up, BOLT RUIN drives up the tempo with the rave-ready 'Nehng', where a frenzy of trance arpeggios and frantic drum programming builds and intensifies over its 5-minute duration. Inspired by Yves Klein's 'Leap Into a Void', 'Nehng' definitely evokes that bodily rush of freefalling into the unknown. 'Nehng''s driving rhythm is switched out for the brooding 'Tzarhk' - an ode to the soundtracks of B-movies composed on a vintage Roland SH-2 (a prominent character of the Stranger Things soundtrack). BOLT RUIN runs thick, syrupy synth slabs and punishing drum patterns through a rain-soaked limiter the producer found lying on the street by chance.

Another master-class in self-destructive arrangements comes in the form of 'Rfohmdrá' as delicate pianos and synth tones atrophy through daisy chained pedals which erode the signal. Valgeir Sigurðsson's mastering skills shines through here, taking BOLT RUIN's sci-fi-meets-metal sonics and amping them up to a scale on par with the Björk or Ben Frost records he's previously worked on.

Conceived of as the mirror reflection of the LP's opener, 'Maevr' pushes the approach of 'Sktone' to an even more nightmarish extreme. Embracing chance, the clattering layers of beats are sampled of a knocked mic on a window as BOLT RUIN attempted to capture a recording of rain from his studio. A happy and very effective accident for the foreboding mood of the track!

BOLT RUIN rounds off Ehkta with 'Ekztamnh'; an ode to that specific sensation of entering through a corridor to a rave and hearing the rumble of a soundsystem from afar. Snarling melodies are run through a reverse granular delay effect which fragments the signal, reverses it and plays them back in irregular order; much like the shattered memories of a late night in a warehouse.

A musical magpie who finds inspiration in the most unlikely of sources, Ehkta is a restless exploration of salvage-punk aesthetics where doom-laden black metal melodies, amen breaks and an experimental approach to sound design sit in an irregular and uneven musical apocalypse. For fans of Blanck Mass or Caterina Barbieri - this is a must-listen material from a fresh producer establishing himself with a singular musical voice.

Originally released in May 2006 through the German label Karaoke Kalk, »Osaka Bridge« was an album that captured the joyful amateurism of Tori Kudo's free-spirited Japanese collective Maher Shalal Hash Baz and Bill Wells’ rich, wistful and easy sense of melody. Approaching brass band and jazz music with a knack for making playing imperfectly feel perfectly right, »Osaka Bridge« became nothing short of groundbreaking when it was released to critical acclaim, becoming an instant classic among musicians and fans alike. Coinciding with the release of the second LP of Wells’ on-going collaboration with Danielle Price on tuba, »The Sensory Illusions«, Karaoke Kalk makes this highly sought-after record available again on vinyl for the first time in 16 years.

The pairing of the prolific Scottish pianist and composer and the fluctuating collective active since the mid-1980s was an easy, natural one—a union particularly apt and complementary. But this is not to say that the 15 recordings which made up »Osaka Bridge« were in any way seamless. The horns played by these self-taught musicians strain and struggle with Wells’ luscious arrangements; each note is given all the stiff emphasis that you’d expect of a high school brass band at its first rehearsal. Songs fall in and out of rhythm, and a track like »Poxy« misses its intended swing feel by a country mile. Of course, this is all part of the magic. Maher Shalal Hash Baz take Wells’ melodies and strip them back to their emotional core, disallowing all artifice and revealing a stark, serene beauty.

Particularly affecting are »On The Beach Boys Bus«—described by colleague Jens Lekman as the »the most beautiful melody I’ve ever heard«—and »Time Takes Me So Back«, the two tracks sung by Kudo’s wife Reiko. Inspiration for both pieces came to Wells in dreams. The former was sung by a group of tanned Californians on the way to a Beach Boys convention, the latter by his grandmother shortly before she passed away. Reiko’s voice gives each song a haunting fragility that enhances their phantasmagoric character. »Cowtail Calypso«, on the other hand, was born when Wells asked Tori Kudo to sing Roger Miller’s »King Of The Road« over a syncopated, propulsive melody. Kudo’s ambiguous response (»maybe,« which according to Wells usually translated to »forget it«) resulted in a brief, idiosyncratic track that nevertheless exceeded all of Wells’ expectations.

Of the instrumental tracks, »Liquorice Tics« stands out for its rolling rhythms and circular melody, while »Family Sighs« creates a brooding atmosphere which perfectly encapsulates the conflicting feelings many people have for their immediate family. For the most part, the instrumentals are concise—a melody stated once and then dispensed with—but their brevity only heightens the impact. Even (or especially) 16 years later, »Osaka Bridge« continues to be an almost accidentally timeless document that captured fleeting moments and personal revelations at their most spontaneous and unaffected. As someone put it so aptly in a Discogs comment a few years back, »this is the album which is able to make aliens understand what humankind is about.« You better turn up the volume so that everyone can hear it everywhere.