Produced by François Tétaz and Luke Howard and recorded primarily at Melbourne's Synth Temple, Tina Arena's Way Of The World reimagines “True Faith” (New Order), “Way of the World” (Max Q / Michael Hutchence), “Enjoy the Silence” (Depeche Mode), “Ordinary World” (Duran Duran), “Torno Bambina” (Ada Mori) and “Cayendo” (Frank Ocean) through stunning orchestral arrangements, prepared piano, analogue synthesis and electronic textures.
Rather than traditional cover versions, these are complete artistic reimaginings that reaffirm Tina Arena as one of Australia's most expressive and enduring vocalists. Of first single “True Faith”, Tina says: “Making the deliberate choice to focus on the lyric of true faith was musically revelatory for me. It presented a blank musical canvas with endless vulnerability and space for me to explore.”
François Tétaz, a Grammy and ARIA-winning producer known for his work with Gotye, Kimbra and Architecture in Helsinki, contributes synthesisers, Rhodes, prepared piano and drum machines throughout, while pianist and composer Luke Howard shapes the EP's restrained, cinematic language. The pair are joined by an ensemble including the Budapest Art Orchestra, Peter Knight, James Rushford, Mindy Meng Wang and orchestrator Felix Watson, giving the collection its rich, orchestral backbone.
The EP announcement lands amid a landmark 50-year career anniversary for Tina — one of Australia's highest-selling artists of all time, having sold more than 10 million albums worldwide.
Originally released by Umor Rex on cassette in 2018, Rafael Anton Irisarri’s Sirimiri is now available on vinyl for the first time, newly remastered for this edition. This LP marks the fourth and final installment in a series of four reissues released throughout 2026 to celebrate the 20th anniversary of Umor Rex.
It is a fitting way to close such a special anniversary year. Rafael is not only an artist who has released three albums on Umor Rex, but someone who has been part of the label’s history for more than a decade. His sensibility and way of listening have complemented and nourished the label throughout the years, while his mastering work has helped shape the sound of many of our releases. A close friend, and an essential part of what Umor Rex is today.
Sirimiri roughly translates as “drizzle” in Basque, and we can’t think of a better word to describe its content. The album consists of four long-form pieces, each shaped through different processes and with its own distinct identity, in which Irisarri seeks to blend subjective time with the listening experience through loops, repetition, and subsequence-based sound. Following Eno, nothing happens in quite the same way twice: perception is constantly shifting, and nothing stays in one place for long. The desolation and despair—in a strangely positive way—that we heard in The Shameless Years (Umor Rex, 2017) and later in FAÇADISMS (Black Knoll, 2024) are present here, but the impression is more concrete, unfolding through rawer, less rhetorical landscapes. If The Shameless Years existed somewhere between beauty and active tragedy, this record travels through the beauty and melancholy of an observing eye—a quiet, rebellious insurrection.
Written, produced, mixed & mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studio, NY. Carl Hultgren: Guitars on “Sonder”, Taylor Jordan: Electric Piano on “Mountain Stream”. Design by Daniel Castrejón.
In the spring of 1971, somewhere between Brussels, Paris and a collective pop fever dream, Le Monde Fabuleux Des Yamasuki landed on vinyl. It sounded like nothing else then and it still does not today. More than half a century later, Sdban Records proudly presents a reissue of this singular cult album, available from April 3, 2026 on vinyl.
The album was produced by Jean Kluger and written both by Jean and Daniel Vangarde (aka Bangalter, later the father of Thomas Bangalter of Daft Punk), who were alreadywell ahead of their time, long before electronic music rewrote the rules of pop culture.
Released under the name Yamasuki, also referred to as The Yamasuki Singers, or The Yamasuki's, the project was never intended as a conventional band. It was a studio-born fantasy, a concept album disguised as a pop record. What began as a standalone single quickly expanded into a full-blown pan-cultural pop opera that ignored genres and common sense with joyful abandon.
Musically, the album sits at a delirious crossroads. Psychedelic pop collides with funk rhythms, samba and bubblegum melodies, full of chants and choruses in a phonetic pseudo-Japanese, written with the help of a dictionary. Kluger and Vangarde famously recruited a children's choir to perform the vocals, and for added spectacle, they brought in a Japanese judo grandmaster, whose ritualistic shouts and battle cries erupt throughout the record.
Several singles were released. One of them, Yamasuki, with accompanying dance move, appeared in the United Kingdom and France on John Peel's Dandelion label, a fitting home for a record that thrived on the margins of pop culture. Its B-side, Aieaoa, proved even more potent. In 1975, the song was reborn as A.I.E. (A Mwana) by Black Blood, an African group recording in Belgium, this time sung in Swahili. That melody would travel even further. Aie a Mwana became the debut single of English pop group Bananarama, and in 2010 it resurfaced once more as Helele, an official song of the FIFA World Cup, recorded by South African singer Velile Mchunu with Danish percussion duo Safri Duo. That version became the most widely known incarnation of the song. With Jean Kluger directly involved, it was less a cover than a continuation of the original idea.
The album's afterlife did not stop there. Over the years, Yamasuki has been quietly sampled, covered, and featured across media far beyond the realm of novelty pop. Kono Samourai was sampled in The Healer by Erykah Badu (2007), produced by Madlib, while Yama Yama has found its way into recent pop culture as well: appearing in the television series Fargo, on Angus Stone's project Dope Lemon, and on the 2008 Late Night Tales compilation curated by Arctic Monkeys drummer Matt Helders. Proof, if any were needed, that this strange little record carries a deeper musical DNA than its playful exterior might suggest.
This new reissue of Le Monde Fabuleux Des Yamasuki proves the renewed interest and respect for this cult album, faithful to the original spirit while finally giving it back the physical presence it deserves. In an era obsessed with genres and algorithmic neatness, Yamasuki still laughs, dances and karate-kicks its way past definitions. It reminds us that pop music can be playful without being disposable, strange without being cynical and joyfulwithout explanation. The world of Yamasuki was always fabulous, we are just lucky it found its way back to us!
R.M.F.C. sound like? Let’s stay with the overused descriptors – I think R.M.F.C. is rock music band, more specifically a post-punk band. Indulge me. If you could say anything about post punk it means post-Wire, who were past punk before punk had an opportunity to codify and become everything brilliant and stupid that we’ve spent 40 years unpacking. Wire’s opening Pink Flag jab – Chairs Missing straight – and 154 hook knockout has haunted the mixing desks of ambitious post-punk bands since, and every major city in the western world has at least one Pink Flag band, one Chairs Missing band, one 154 band. Few bands manage to sound like all 3 records, but R.M.F.C. are a Rock Music Fan Club...
Anyone paying attention to underground Australian guitar overdose would relate: the R.M.F.C. Club Hits LP has been the culmination of five years of work, patience and discipline. If you’ve heard these songs live at any of their shows over the past couple of years you’ll understand – the wait is over and the result is exhilarating.
‘Bands like Devo, The Fall, and The Birthday Party have set the way for this type of post-punk rock (all in their own way). Surely, also, the rock scenes of the past fifteen years in Australia have also been influential. Thinking of bands like Royal Headache, Dick Diver, and Eddy Current Suppression Ring, there’s even been a fairly recent tradition of expanding styles of rock and roll (let alone the bigger, famous rock-centered acts). The Sydney based R.M.F.C., and the scene (or friend circle) from which it’s emerging, is carrying a torch of rock music which has the potential of a wider appeal.’ - POST-TRASH
Love or its absence dominates the intimate songs on the new album from ARBORIST – the musical outlet of Mark McCambridge. Looking For Love, Arborist’s fourth album of exquisitely inventive Americana, places us firmly in his hometown of Belfast, allowing it to act as a microcosm of the wider-world, with all its foibles and charms. We find fictional protagonists scouring the dark corners of the city, wiling-away afternoons in strip clubs, wandering the streets in all weather and reflecting on the harsh reality of modern society, all in search of an elusive love – emphasising our need for it now more than ever.
Looking for Love is ARBORIST’s first album to be self-produced by McCambridge, largely from his home studio in Belfast – and at times it feels like we are in the room with him. It’s a different kind of record for him as previously he has always sought collaboration; whether it be with Kim Deal who chose to sing intertwined harmony on his debut single “Twisted Arrow”, or recording in The Curfew Tower owned by The KLF’s Bill Drummond who described Mark’s songwriting as being “riven with more loss than any record since Leonard Cohen quit this world”, and who Matthew E White and his Spacebomb band collaborated with to such astonishing effect on the previous Arborist LP, 2023’s An Endless Sequence of Dead Zeros, winner of the prestigious Northern Ireland Music Prize. This time, with no outside producer steering the way, McCambridge found that the quiet hours were where he felt most at ease, despite periods of trial and error, and, by his own admission, moments of feeling genuinely lost in it all.
Despite playing many of the parts himself, McCambridge still called upon old friends from the community around him; Spacebomb’s resident bassist Cameron Ralston (Bonnie Light Horseman, Hiss Golden Messenger) again features throughout the record, alongside Eamon Ferris (The Waterboys) on drums, with the great and the good from Belfast’s vibrant music scene. Grainne Meyer plays concert harp and Aga Olek plays violin for the quasi-title track “Looking 4 Love” – an off-kilter love-letter to Belfast. Meilana Gillard provides a sleazy saxophone on “Bye Bye Johnny Cash” – a seedy tale of a man obsessively visiting a dancer in a club, and The Larne Community Youth Choir provide backing vocals for “Go Kill The Fatted Calf” – a song Mark wrote about his son growing up, a take on the parable of the prodigal son, with Jonny Ashe’s blistering guitar solo adding an album highlight. The Errigal Ensemble String Quartet and Aisling Agnew’s breathtaking flute solo feature on “What Is It You’re Asking” – a song about love, or its absence, both personally and universally in these times.
McCambridge was recently honoured with a “Fellowship” by the Seamus Heaney Centre at Queen's University Belfast where he collaborated with such illustrious names from the literary world as Nick Laird, Caoilinn Hughes and Conor McPherson. Through the University he was given access to the music department's Steinways and pipe organs, and decided to try one out for the album’s centrepiece “I’ve Been A Flaneur”. As Mark explains, "The drone on the pipe organ — and the sound of it starting and stopping — was so visceral that I decided to try a half-written song against it right there and then, and this came out in one take… The song was a breakthrough artistically - I don't think I'll ever record in the same way again after this."
The album was engineered by longtime collaborator Ben McAuley (Van Morrison) and mixed by Jimmy Robertson (Anna Calvi, Beth Gibbons, Fat Dog). The results are staggering, devastating and uplifting in equal measure, calling to mind albums such as Songs Ohia’s Magnolia Electric Co., The Divine Comedy’s Regeneration, The Blue Nile’s Hats and Wilco’s Ode to Joy, as well as early-70s records from John Cale, John Lennon and Bill Fay.
Belfast native Mark McCambridge played his first show as Arborist supporting James Yorkston. A solo tour followed, and impressive performances led to notable support slots alongside Low, Cat Power, Echo & The Bunnymen and Guy Garvey. Arborist's debut single, the Americana-tinged "Twisted Arrow," caught the attention of the critics with an astonishing duet with Kim Deal of The Breeders. The debut album Home Burial (2016) and its follow-up, A Northern View, both received glowing praise, from The Guardian ("instant classic" ----) to MOJO ("devastatingly bleak… upliftingly beautiful" ----) to Uncut (8/10), with BBC 6 Music play from Cerys Matthews, Cillian Murphy, Lauren Laverne, Radcliffe and Maconie and Gideon Coe — and Steve Lamacq calling single "Taxi" "one of those records that makes you immediately stop what you're doing." He went on to even greater success with the 2023 Northern Irish Music Prize winning third LP, An Endless Sequence of Dead Zeroes, which was recorded at SpaceBomb Studios in Virginia with musician and producer Matthew E White. For his fourth LP, Looking For Love, he has signed with Fika Recordings and with a tour approaching in November, 2026 looks set to be a seminal year for the Irish artist.
What an unbelievable record. From the wild cover to the iconic breakbeats, Roots from Ian Carr’s Nucleus is one of the dopest albums we know. This is seriously thick, funky-prog jazz-rock heaven. Originally released on Vertigo in 1973, other than a couple of versions at the time for other territories, Roots was never re-pressed since so it’s gone on to become another one of those impossible to find records.
Maybe it was a little too out there for the time, but it’s aged very, very well indeed and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.
Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.
Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels.
Working together with producer Fritz Fryer and engineer Roger Wake, the seven compositions by Carr, Brian Smith and Dave MacRae that make up Roots flirt with perfection, and Nucleus at that time made up of the cream of 1970s UK jazz with Brian Smith on tenor saxophones and flutes, Dave MacRae on piano and electric piano, Jocelyn Pitchen on guitar, Roger Sutton on bass, both Clive Thacker and Aureo De Souza on drums and percussion, Joy Yates delivering the vocals and of course Carr on trumpet.
The spellbinding title track immediately renders the album indispensable. Riding the illest of loping breakbeats, “Roots” is low-slung, doped-out heist-funk. An absolute monster. If it sounds familiar then that’s likely down to it being sampled by Madlib for Lootpack and Quasimoto’s “Loop Digga”, as well as by a whole host of beat manipulators. “Roots” conjures prime instrumental hip-hop / beat music, only 20 years ahead of its time. Truly, these are the roots. Through sinuous bass, twinkling keys and a hypnotic guitar riff, a smoky brass motif weaves its way into a gloriously deep haze around Carr’s solos. “Roots” is over 9 minutes long, but there’s not a single wasted second, not surprising given that this is a condensed version of an originally 40 minute long commissioned composition.
The soothing vocal fusion delight of “Images” follows. Meticulously constructed, with gorgeous flute work from Brian Smith, with Joy Yates’ silky vocals and Dave MacRae’s Rhodes never sounding better. The cool, driving “Caliban” closes out the first side. Originally the third movement in a four part commission to celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday it stands up on its own, all robust rhythms and blended brass. Keyboard colour and Carr’s trumpet are splashed across the funk drums and basslines (and there’s even some bamboo flute). This really is fusion: the elements of jazz and rock coming together in beautifully synthesis.
Side two opens in riotous fashion with the short, thrilling samba of “Wapatiti”. Next up, “Capricorn” forms a smoothed-out, jazzy constellation. Mellow and dreamy, its twinkling percussion and languid horns slowly build the vibe before head-nod drums and a killer bassline enter the fray. With a distinct heaviness that Black Sabbath would’ve envied, “Odokamona” is a venomous slice of riff-soaked jazz metal (yes, you read that right), elevated by Carr’s wah-wah horns.
The album closes with MacRae’s exceptionally cosmic “Southern Roots and Celebration”. Very much in conversation with Weather Report, it opens as a languorous, spiritual jazz of chiming keys and serene guitar that turns slowly, gorgeously into a mid-paced, brass-laced banger. It’s another sure-fire party starter and the sound of the band having a righteous blast, building an ecstatic chaos that ends with Yates screaming.
And of course we need to talk about Keith Davis’ cover for Roots. Perhaps the coolest record cover of all time? Certainly one of the most bonkers. Just your run-of-the-mill high-gloss, acid-tinged airbrush dystopian/utopian living-room party scene. Consider this your chemical flashback trigger warning.
Front-and-centre the hip-to-death green robot holds court with their giant ball of yellow barbwire wool, hooked up to… something(?) being teased out from under the stairs (probably best not to ask). A thoroughly zoned-out, long-legged Pop Art party-goer lounges half-plugged in to the painting behind her as a pair of legs flail into shot from the the top of the stairs opposite. We won’t even begin to guess what the chap’s up to in the middle, but the view out of the windows is rather nice, and someone’s already got the hoover out ready to tidy up. All of the Nucleus sleeves are something special, but this particular one? Crikey.
This Be With edition of Roots has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Pete Norman’s cut to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The crazy cover has been restored at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.
There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.
Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.
At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along
There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.
Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.
At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along
The premise of this compilation is simple: music we’d like to hear at the airport.
The idea came after learning that Honolulu’s international airport has been playing AI-generated music over its speakers since November 2025. First reported by Civil Beat, the news has caused frustration and disappointment among residents and visitors, as well as within the local music community.
Everyone knows Hawaii is one of the most musically rich regions in the world — why then is the airport using AI music? 'Music For The Airport' is our response.
Located in the middle of the Pacific at the outskirts of one the most remote cities on the planet, Honolulu’s Daniel K. Inouye International Airport (HNL) is for most people the first place they encounter when they arrive in Hawaii. Warm sun, tropical tradewinds, playful palm trees and majestic mountains welcome every traveler, as do the sounds of birds, familiar music from Hawaiian artists like Aunty Genoa Keawe and Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, and—at least for now—seventeen “island-themed” AI-generated songs.
In late 1977, while sitting in Germany’s Cologne Bonn Airport on a Sunday morning, Brian Eno noticed how terribly uncomfortable he felt hearing the airport’s “muzak” overhead. For a harried, hurried place like the airport where travelers scramble to their gates, stand in long border control lines, and wait impatiently for their luggage at the carousels, music can create more anxiety than calm. Asking himself, "What should we be hearing here?", Eno soon created ‘Ambient 1: Music For Airports’, a sonic remedy aimed at reducing nervousness in public spaces.
When we heard the news that HNL airport is playing AI-generated “muzak”, we were immediately reminded of Eno’s genre-defying 1978 album. And we were similarly inspired to react. But how? Recreating an ambient masterpiece wasn’t in our wheelhouse. We started digging through our catalog of licensed music which we haven’t yet re-released. We quickly realized this was our chance to highlight some of favorite songs from the so-called CD era: the 1990s and 2000s (with a few exceptions). In less than 20 minutes, we pulled 17 original songs recorded by local artists between 1984 and 2017.
The speed at which this project came together surprised us; reactionary gut instinct often produces swift and lasting results. Ironically, our new compilation likely took less time than it did for the state Department of Transportation to commission its AI songs in question. But even though ‘Music for the Airport’ came together in less than one week, the truth is that this collection of 17 songs is the result of years of hard work, trust, sacrifice, patience, and understanding. Building relationships with and licensing music from artists doesn’t happen overnight, but more importantly: these songs are the result of people pouring their hearts and souls into something they believe in. This music wouldn’t exist today without the artists and their loved ones who supported them along the way.
As of this writing, the DOT states its intention in creating AI-generated songs is to “highlight different aspects of the islands, aviation and the airport” and that “no state funds were used to produce them”. Okay, but at what cost? Technology disrupting the music industry isn’t news to anyone. AI music in public spaces are cost-saving measures, since its users (airports, for example) don’t have to pay the licensing fees typically required, which can be a worthwhile source of revenue for artists. But what happens when a place like HNL airport, which hosts more than 21 million passengers annually, uses music created by machines instead of people to represent Hawaii? The identity of a place beings to erode, diluted by a language learning model’s conceptual summary of what a people and its culture sounds like. To echo Brian Eno: what should we be hearing here? In other words: what should the music of Hawaii sound like?
We believe in the power of music, especially when it comes from the soul. We believe in supporting artists, especially as AI disrupts our lives. We believe that Hawaii must be represented authentically, especially when it comes to song. And of course we believe in vinyl, especially since it was a record from 1978 (Mackey Feary Band’s debut LP) that inspired Aloha Got Soul’s origins in 2010.
We hope you find as much joy in this compilation as we have. Perhaps it’ll soundtrack your next journey to Hawaii. At the very least, we hope some people take a moment to hear these sounds: in your headphones for now‚ maybe someday overhead at the airport in Honolulu.
The year was 1989, and Derrick May was at a creative peak as both a DJ and producer. Under his Rhythim Is Rhythim moniker, he released a string of landmark records on Transmat, while his residency at Detroit's The Music Institute showcased the distinctive DJ style that would soon take him onto the international stage. Around the same time, he hosted a weekly radio show on Detroit radio station WJLB, alongside influential programs by The Electrifying Mojo and The Wizard (Jeff Mills).
For one of these broadcasts, May assembled a 15-minute megamix in his studio during the week leading up to the show. He opened his radio set with this continuous mix, blending his own tracks and versions into a seamless introduction that reflected his approach to DJing at the time. It includes unreleased versions of classics such as ‘Nude Photo 88’ and ‘Strings Of Life’.
‘All of this is unreleased because I made it as I was playing it on the spot as a special Mayday Mix for my show on the radio station WJLB in 1989, edited together straight from the keyboards live to tape. There is no other recording of these tracks in this form, only here’.
The original WJLB master tapes have since been lost, and no official recording is known to survive. Fortunately, many listeners recorded the broadcasts at home. One such cassette, preserved by Richie Hawtin, eventually made it our way. It has been carefully restored and mastered, with the artist’s approval.
To highlight this remarkable document of techno history, the recording is now available as a limited-edition, one-sided 12-inch release. The mix has been cut as a continuous side, visually divided into eight sections, while the reverse features a custom engraving.
For more than 20 years, every CASPIAN album has been driven by a desire to stretch boundaries — a relentless ambition that's resulted in one of post-rock's most revered catalogs and established the Massachusetts quintet as an enduring, global force in the genre's modern era. On CASPIAN, the band’s first album in six years and debut for Wax Bodega, the more unexpected way forward was to stop searching for what they hadn’t yet done and instead trust what had defined them from the beginning.
The six-song, 39-minute effort draws freely from the musical vocabulary the band have spent their career writing: evocative melodic themes, dense textures, swelling crescendos and crushing heaviness that rolls in like a slow-moving storm on the horizon. But they still find new possibilities within those familiar contours, allowing patient development and repetition to carry as much weight as surprise. The nine-minute “Remain” turns a recurring melody into a sweeping study in tension and release, while “No One Left to Tell” layers subtle shifts around a hypnotic tremolo figure and “A Great Fire” sends serpentine guitars crashing into buzzsaw riffs. Even the graceful 3/4-time closer “Waltz for the End,” completed in a half-hour burst of inspiration, reflects the quiet confidence of five musicians comfortable enough in their skin to resist tearing everything down for the sake of reinvention, even as the circumstances surrounding them change dramatically.
For more than 20 years, every CASPIAN album has been driven by a desire to stretch boundaries — a relentless ambition that's resulted in one of post-rock's most revered catalogs and established the Massachusetts quintet as an enduring, global force in the genre's modern era. On CASPIAN, the band’s first album in six years and debut for Wax Bodega, the more unexpected way forward was to stop searching for what they hadn’t yet done and instead trust what had defined them from the beginning.
The six-song, 39-minute effort draws freely from the musical vocabulary the band have spent their career writing: evocative melodic themes, dense textures, swelling crescendos and crushing heaviness that rolls in like a slow-moving storm on the horizon. But they still find new possibilities within those familiar contours, allowing patient development and repetition to carry as much weight as surprise. The nine-minute “Remain” turns a recurring melody into a sweeping study in tension and release, while “No One Left to Tell” layers subtle shifts around a hypnotic tremolo figure and “A Great Fire” sends serpentine guitars crashing into buzzsaw riffs. Even the graceful 3/4-time closer “Waltz for the End,” completed in a half-hour burst of inspiration, reflects the quiet confidence of five musicians comfortable enough in their skin to resist tearing everything down for the sake of reinvention, even as the circumstances surrounding them change dramatically.
After decades contributing to records where a single riff could transform a dancefloor, Charlie May turns that instinct inward on Trusted Farms.
For over thirty years, Charlie has occupied a position that seems increasingly rare in electronic music: the musician’s musician, the person behind the machines, the extra pair of hands in the studio, and quite often, the person responsible for the melody you end up carrying around in your head for weeks on end.
Alongside Duncan Forbes as Spooky, Charlie helped shape some of the most important electronic music to emerge from the UK in the early ’90s. That partnership would also sow the seeds for one of Sasha’s defining records: the central riff behind Xpander began life in Spooky’s live material, before Charlie brought the idea into the studio with Sasha and helped transform it into one of electronic music’s most enduring anthems.
Listen closely to Charlie’s work and there’s a particular instinct that keeps returning: knowing when a simple synth line is enough. Knowing which note needs to change. Knowing when repetition stops being repetition and starts becoming the entire reason a track works. More recently, as one-third of Quiet Places on ASIP, he’s taken those same instincts somewhere looser — beatless, gridless and led by improvisation.
Trusted Farms puts those instincts front and centre.
Tiny melodic phrases appear and refuse to leave. Synth lines repeat just long enough to become lodged in your head. Parts rub against each other without being tidied into submission. There’s a sharpness and directness to it all amongst the purposeful analogue warmth.
Some of these tracks feel almost ridiculously simple at first. But simplicity is difficult when you’ve spent decades learning every possible way to complicate something. Many of the parts on Trusted Farms were performed live with minimal editing. A synth line might be doubled, distorted, re-recorded and pushed back through another piece of equipment, but it remains the same idea. Instead of filling the gaps, Charlie works on the weight and character of what is already there. The melodies become physical; slightly worn around the edges.
For someone whose fingerprints can be found across some genuinely monumental moments in electronic music, Charlie has spent decades knowing what to add.
Trusted Farms is about knowing exactly what to leave alone.
Available on black 12”, mastered by Andreas Lupo LOOP-O Lubich and featuring artwork by Peter Skwiot Smith,
Marlon Plein also known as Driven By Attraction, one half of Watching Airplanes is releasing a new solo EP on klakson! Watching Airplanes' 'blue is dope' was already one of the pleasant surprises featured on the klakson 20in20 compilation and the journey continues with 'Last Days Of Innocence'. 4 distinguished contemporary electro funk driven dance floor stompers with an ultra deep twist. Mandatory for serious record bags!!!!!!
EELS, eine der eigenwilligsten und beständig gefeierten Bands der Rockgeschichte, melden sich mit ihrem 16. Studioalbum zurück. COOKIE HAPPENED findet E (Mark Oliver Everett) dort, wo er am stärksten ist: in den kleinen Siegen des Lebens, den unvermeidlichen Enttäuschungen – und dem stillen Wunder, überhaupt hier gewesen zu sein.
Den Albumtitel erklärt E mit einem Zitat des großen Philosophen unserer Zeit, dem Cookie Monster: „Me no cry because cookie is finished. Me smile because cookie happened." Alles wird vergessen werden – aber war es nicht trotzdem etwas Schönes, dass es geschah?
Die erste Single 'Cap In Hand' gibt einen bittersüßen Vorgeschmack: ein abgeklärt-bewegender Song aus der Perspektive von jemandem, der seine Fehler endlich eingesteht und versucht, die Dinge wieder geradzubiegen.
COOKIE HAPPENED folgt auf das 2024 erschienene und vielgelobte EELS TIME! und beweist einmal mehr, dass kaum ein anderer Künstler so gut darin ist, im Chaos des Lebens Bedeutung zu finden.
EELS, eine der eigenwilligsten und beständig gefeierten Bands der Rockgeschichte, melden sich mit ihrem 16. Studioalbum zurück. COOKIE HAPPENED findet E (Mark Oliver Everett) dort, wo er am stärksten ist: in den kleinen Siegen des Lebens, den unvermeidlichen Enttäuschungen – und dem stillen Wunder, überhaupt hier gewesen zu sein.
Den Albumtitel erklärt E mit einem Zitat des großen Philosophen unserer Zeit, dem Cookie Monster: „Me no cry because cookie is finished. Me smile because cookie happened." Alles wird vergessen werden – aber war es nicht trotzdem etwas Schönes, dass es geschah?
Die erste Single 'Cap In Hand' gibt einen bittersüßen Vorgeschmack: ein abgeklärt-bewegender Song aus der Perspektive von jemandem, der seine Fehler endlich eingesteht und versucht, die Dinge wieder geradzubiegen.
COOKIE HAPPENED folgt auf das 2024 erschienene und vielgelobte EELS TIME! und beweist einmal mehr, dass kaum ein anderer Künstler so gut darin ist, im Chaos des Lebens Bedeutung zu finden.
Ian Pooley returns with a brand-new collection of original productions, delivering exactly what you'd expect from one of house music's true craftsmen.
Road-tested throughout his recent live shows, these tracks have already proven themselves where it matters most: on the dancefloor. Staying faithful to his unmistakable MPC-driven approach, Ian delivers groove, feel and musical restraint in equal measure. Crisp drums, warm sampling, infectious basslines and subtle arrangements come together in a way that only he can deliver.
No overproduction, no unnecessary breakdowns, no gimmicks-just pure, functional house music built for DJs. Timeless, stripped-back and effortlessly effective, this is another reminder why Ian Pooley remains one of the genre's most respected producers.
* long version / previously unreleased on vinyl
** exclusive / previously unreleased
Felix Laband's highly acclaimed electronica masterpiece album "Dark Days Exit" (2005) is now available as an Extended Version 2LP vinyl. Originally planned for last year's 20th anniversary, this special edition features a new design by Felix Laband and includes a double-sided DIN A2 art print. Dark Days Exit features four exclusive tracks, alongside five vinyl-only tracks available for the first time in their original long versions. Listening to the key track, Sleeping Household, on Dark Days Exit is unsettling: like being an impostor rambling around an uncanny house, a Lynchian leitmotif in the form of a young girl divulging secrets that you probably shouldn't hear. Dark Days Exit is an album that paints an interior landscape, an invitation to transgress private thresholds. Made with old-school production tools that require hands-on application, Dark Days Exit is a sound-production tour de force. The music is as wide as the savannah and microscopic at the same time, a lesson in what can be achieved when 'music' is placed on an equal footing with sound as a phenomenon, by an artist who decides to apply themselves without reserve. The masterful manipulation of reverb and delays and hyper-detail was a generation ahead of its time, and Dark Days Exit is preferred by audiophiles for testing their systems. Dark Days Exit is intimate, demanding, and a masterclass in tension, and Laband's ability to use all sound without hierarchy to paint a detailed personal vision — one that is less overtly political and streetwise than on subsequent albums — is unsurpassed. Most discerning listeners are into music because, in the hands of a master, it can manipulate our mood and transport us. Felix Laband opens with a sonic portrait of spring happiness and gradually dismantles the atmosphere in front of our ears, as epitomised by the haunting track Black Shoes. No sooner are we afraid than the artist drops us off where we started. In many ways, the intimacy derives from the tight group of friends and believers whom Laband corralled as contributors: Mark van Niekerk (xylophone, "Miss Teardrop"), Jane Rademeyer (clarinet, "Black Shoes," "Radio Right Now"), Brendon Bussy (mandolin, "Black Shoes"), and Derek Gripper (sampled violin, used throughout) and Alex van Heerden on Minka. The difficulty in categorising Dark Days Exit is probably due to Laband listening mostly to ambient and classical music at the time, and consequently registering the album at the lush, cinematic end of the electronic spectrum. There is poise and restraint in the spare use of beats, and when they do appear, they hit hard. Forged in the optimistic post-apartheid years, Dark Days Exit is music about life and death, spanning hope, despair, terror, tension, with humour and empathy. Twenty one years on, the album's gravity endures, due to its almost perverse authenticity, its timeless themes of hope and despair, and its apex level of technical mastery. The additional, immaculately produced tracks add new rooms to the uncanny house we are invited into.
Following hot on the heels of the Frequency Damage EP, DJ Quest returns to Cyberfunk with Squeaks / Snake Style— a two-track release that dives deep into the unmistakable sound that made Quest’s productions stand out during the early 2000s.
Rather than simply recreating the past, both tracks tap directly into the DNA of the original Cyberfunk sound: rolling breakbeats, huge basslines, twisted analogue synths and the kind of distinctive production that became synonymous with DJ Quest at the height of the Bassline Breaks era.
Built around original analogue synth work throughout, Squeaks / Snake Style is a deliberate throwback to the raw, futuristic sound of the early 2000s, produced with the weight and clarity needed for today’s sound systems.
It’s classic Quest, strange noises, big bass, rolling drums and plenty of attitude.
A. Squeaks
Everything DJ Quest became known for rolled into one track. Squeaks is an unapologetic throwback to the classic Quest sound of the early 2000s, driven by heavyweight breaks, deep bass and original analogue synth work throughout.
Twisted electronic squeaks and evolving analogue sounds weave their way around the drums, giving the track that instantly recognisable combination of funk, darkness and futuristic weirdness that characterised so many of Quest’s early productions.
Raw, energetic and built firmly for the dancefloor, Squeaks takes the spirit of the original Bassline Breaks era and brings it straight back onto a modern sound system.
AA. Snake Style
On the flip, Snake Style takes the same analogue-driven approach but moves into deeper rolling territory.
A more hypnotic, heads-down breaks roller, the track develops around a heavyweight bass groove, rolling drums and constantly shifting analogue synth lines. There’s less emphasis on the immediate impact of the A-side and more on building a groove that locks into a DJ set and keeps moving.
Still unmistakably Quest, Snake Style combines the rawness and character of early-2000s breakbeat with modern low-end weight and production, proper rolling Cyberfunk business.
Special Vinyl Edition
Making this release particularly special for collectors, the 12” vinyl comes with an exclusive book showcasing the artwork from some of DJ Quest’s biggest and most memorable releases.
The book looks back through Quest’s extensive catalogue and the visual identity that accompanied the records, bringing together a selection of classic release artwork from across his career plus photo collages of memories made across his journey.
It turns Squeaks / Snake Style into more than just a new DJ Quest 12”, it’s also a celebration of the music, artwork and history surrounding one of the original pioneers of the Bassline Breaks sound.
For long-time followers it offers a piece of Quest history alongside two brand-new productions, while newer listeners get an introduction to the catalogue and imagery behind the sound
