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"Walking On Rubber Eggshells" is Yanik Soland's second release on Futura Resistenza. It is a seven-track journey through bowed koto, flutes, and modular synths, essentially Japanese court music if it had a late-night fever dream, filled with strange characters and ghosts on repeat. The album also serves as the backbone for his solo show at Kunsthaus Baselland, Switzerland, opening in September 2026.

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

Courant Zéro is the new moniker of Montréal multi-media installation artist and Kohlenstoff label co-founder Maxime Corbeil-Perron, signalling his return to purely recording-based electronic music production following several years focused on award-winning experimental film and audio-visual works. Solari channels his cinematic sensibility and decade-long exploration of sound art and electroacoustic counterpoint into deep cuts of maximalist ambient electronica. Drawing on his early background as a pianist and jazz drummer, Corbeil-Perron weaves a fabric of melodic and rhythmic vectors with his unique timbral palette, intersecting modern composition, IDM, ambient, glitch, and noise on a debut album brimming with sonic detail and emotive resonance. A fixture of Montréal's sound art community as both creator and curator since the early 2010s, Corbeil-Perron's work has ranged from "hypnotic A/V onslaught" (FACT Magazine) to the "richly nuanced acousmatic journey" of his 2018 EP Polychrome (Bandcamp Best Contemporary Classical Of The Month), with earlier electronic and techno-adjacent projects like Political Ritual, Dresden, and Le poisson d'argent garnering accolades from avant-music outlets A Closer Listen, Silence and Sound, and Musicworks, among others. Courant Zéro mobilizes this cumulative wealth of explorative sonic experience in the service of distinctive compositional architectures and electronic music pathways that fans of Floating Points, Jan Jelinek, Squarepusher, Tim Hecker, and Oneohtrix Point Never should find compelling. Title track "Solari" opens the album with a cavernous ambient glitch-drone soundscape that envelops ever-shifting timbres of modular arpeggiation, serving as introduction to the clarion call of "En deçà du réel", an homage to video artist Manon Labrecque, where layers of interweaving melodic counterpoint played on Buchla and other synths slowly build to widescreen immersive intensities; "I have this vision of Labreque vibrating eternally between two frames of magnetic VHS tape_ the slow pace of the piece also inspired by Tarkovsky's approach to scenography" says Corbeil-Perron. "Strange Aorta" is ectoplasmic ambient with wistful melody lines transmuting along a central filament, awash in shifting waves of low-end and ricocheting tonal glitch, the title a reference to "the thumping rhythm beating around the main melody_and the heavy remnants of grief related to my father's passing and a brutal confrontation with my own mortality a few years back." Tracks like "La peau des dents" and "Eroding Us" are more firmly rooted in electroacoustic and aleatory systems music, where colliding loops are shaped into unstable flows of deconstructed slippage and reconvergence. Those two pieces bookend the album's pivotal center: the gorgeous piano digitalia of "Horizon n'arrête" and the skittering electronica of 9-minute opus "Unyeldd", its loping broken beat and cascading melodic glitter like a cluster of wind-up music boxes in a dappled forest _ and for Corbeil- Perron also partly inspired by now fellow Constellation labelmates Do Make Say Think: "I spent a lot of time rediscovering their records after seeing them last September 2024 which definitely influenced this piece." Courant Zéro's debut is a vibrant sonic rebus at the junction of electronic, electroacoustic, noise and ambient music that resists easy categorisation. Solari strikes a compelling balance of unsettled disorientation and hospitable warmth, teeming with real feeling throughout. The album's cover art painting Cryptography I by Yen-Chao Lin represents this prevailing sensibility, its mazelike circuitry distinctly carved and crisply rendered, while filigreed with handmade detail and artisanal patina. Thanks for listening.

Jason Dungan (aka Blue Lake) and Johan Carøe find beauty in the rhythms
and repetitions of domestic life for collaborative album, 'Routine' - out September 25

Copenhagen-based multi-instrumentalists Jason Dungan and Johan Carøe didn't set out to make an album. Instead, as the title 'Routine' suggests, they found their way there through a process of habitual making and listening, developing an intuitive musical language to reflect the dreamlike meanderings and creative play of life's quiet moments. 'Routine' blends pop orientated sounds, Avant-garde minimalism, folk and new age with the emotive depth of film-score.

Their meeting was not entirely coincidental. Previously in bands such as Squares and Triangles, Jason Dungan has since recorded multiple albums under the moniker Blue Lake, including the lauded 'Sun Arcs', pursuing his passion for self-built percussion and multi-string instruments. Johan Carøe meanwhile is a composer whose film soundtrack work has seen him collaborate with Angelo Badalamenti, Arp, and Sofie Birch, at whose Andersabo residency (curated by Dungan) the pair first met, resulting in the highly praised album 'Repair Techniques' written by Birch and Carøe.

'Routine' emerged organically over many years against the backdrop of great personal change. As Carøe said goodbye to his father and welcomed his first child, the pair sent each other fragments of melodies and patterns, working up responses when time allowed to assemble a sonic palette that combined acoustic instrumentation of zither, clarinet, cello, saxophone (among others) with the textures of tape, drum machine and Yamaha DX7 synth. Inspired by the vulnerability and DIY ethos of Arthur Russell's home recordings, the vision of labels like Disques de Crepescule, and the art pop, experimentation inherent to late '70s and early '80s recordings from NYC and Japan alike, Dungan and Carøe conjured new forms for their folk, leftfield pop and avant garde influences from the low-lit living rooms of Copenhagen and rural Sweden. "I'm very interested in the ways in which music and art emerge from our wider experiences as people, workers, parents and in the daydreaming activity of making music," Dungan explains of a process which allowed the duo's individual styles to drift apart and merge together seamlessly. "I think the process was definitely capturing moments in time, but over a long time," Carøe adds. "It was a bit like improvisation, but with time stretched."

The music floats with grace and humility, remaining sophisticated yet acutely introverted.
Whether on 'Clouds', where soft layers of zither and clarinet are moved along by a featherlight bass riff and the hypnotic clip-clop of the primitive groovebox, or the gentle grandeur of cello rising and falling through 'Routine 1', the album reveals itself over 10 instrumental tracks, evoking the ineffable calm that descends when the light changes and the world turns inwards. The act of time passing became a key creative ingredient to the evolution of the album, enriched with the exciting challenge to transform their passing rounds of home recordings via a slow release musical dialogue. Jason found creative moments in the twilight hours to lay down zither, melodica, acoustic guitar to name but few, while Johan utilising "line-in and headphones" would manipulate, stretch and pitch Jason's melodic pathways during newly born naptimes.

Carøe rhythmically plucks and slides the stringed cello instrument, leaving palpable foundations on 'Hymn' and 'Chords', in a treated, stylistic approach akin to Mabe Fratti, while 'Silence' draws to a close with a gospel touch. Dungan's harp-motion zither flourishes reveal more classical connotations on 'Reunion' with inspiration of Bedroom Community's Nico Muhly as organs rise with Moogs, culminating with a climatic choral outro from friend, mezzo-soprano Anna Caroline Olesen.

'Routine' then is their first collaboration, an album of deep and sincere reflection with inviting overtones that gesture with unrushed authenticity. A document of a new-found friendship that opens a window into the most personal of spaces, where the daily practices of music and life exist side-by-side to wondrous effect.

The Montréal psych-ambient synth-droners return with Sequence Three, their first album in five years and the final instalment in the group’s opening trilogy of records that began with Sequence One in 2019. The spectral supergroup co-founded by Stephen Ramsay (Young Galaxy) and Jace Lasek (The Besnard Lakes), usually joined in some capacity by Lasek’s Besnard bandmate Olga Goreas, deliver another dose of its trademark longform slowburn jams, forged from restored vintage synths and analogue electronic gear. Lasek and Ramsay don their seasoned producer hats to apply rockist sound design to minimalist tracks, saturated with tube compression, drenched in pink and brown noise, all queasy modulation, sparse beats, and languorous melodic lines. Evoking a humid dawn on a gas giant, these alien drone anthems meld the numinous transcendentalism of Spiritualized and Cluster with the eroded grit of William Basinski and GAS. Light Conductor has been tagged “heavyweight analogue synth nirvana” by Uncut Magazine and praised for its “fabulous, epic, shimmeringly radiant kosmische” by Electronic Sound, among other accolades. Sequence Three consolidates these strengths, while leaning into the darker disquietude that has always been an undercurrent of Light Conductor’s aesthetic.
Sequence Three rounds out a satisfying trio of full-lengths that Light Conductor has released on Constellation, featuring vibrantly minimal geometric cover art designed by label co-founder Ian Ilavsky that integrates the trilogy as a visual series as well. In keeping with the previous two albums in the set, the Deluxe 180gLP includes a 12”x24” art poster. Thanks for listening.

The Montréal psych-ambient synth-droners return with Sequence Three, their first album in five years and the final instalment in the group's opening trilogy of records that began with Sequence One in 2019. The spectral supergroup co-founded by Stephen Ramsay (Young Galaxy) and Jace Lasek (The Besnard Lakes), usually joined in some capacity by Lasek's Besnard bandmate Olga Goreas, deliver another dose of its trademark longform slowburn jams, forged from restored vintage synths and analogue electronic gear. Lasek and Ramsay don their seasoned producer hats to apply rockist sound design to minimalist tracks, saturated with tube compression, drenched in pink and brown noise, all queasy modulation, sparse beats, and languorous melodic lines. Evoking a humid dawn on a gas giant, these alien drone anthems meld the numinous transcendentalism of Spiritualized and Cluster with the eroded grit of William Basinski and GAS. Light Conductor has been tagged "heavyweight analogue synth nirvana" by Uncut Magazine and praised for its "fabulous, epic, shimmeringly radiant kosmische" by Electronic Sound, among other accolades. Sequence Three consolidates these strengths, while leaning into the darker disquietude that has always been an undercurrent of Light Conductor's aesthetic. Opener "She Glitters The Dust" fades up slow with intertwining detuned synth loops, a languorous lullaby beat dropping at the 3-minute mark, accompanied by insectoid shimmers and a tease of melody that's eventually given free reign over the song's second half. Aptly titled, it's as if a transmission captured within a cosmic dust cloud has provided the raw material for the band to jam on, tease out, and terrestrialize. An echo of that beat sets the tranced pulse for "Omenize", the centerpiece of Side One and the fulfilment of Light Conductor's one-vocal-track-per-album directive. With layered harmonies by Goreas and Lasek, this is the group at its ethereally anthemic best, the devotional floating-in-space bliss attenuated by another gently warped denouement. "Ghost City Radio" closes out Side One with the band's most overtly anxious tune to date, deceptively stolid in its simple bass guitar riff and filter-swept hi-hat: groove stripped to its minimum as the foundation for an extended spokenword sample of a doomsaying prepper/preacher, a sort of homage to that early hallmark of their Godspeed compatriots, done up through the lens of Light Conductor's inimitably destabilized celestial ambience. (Lasek mixed the most recent two GY!BE albums.) Side Two offers up "High In The Orange Air", a beatless, squelching, bubbling ostinato drone and the album's most orthodox ambient kosmische track. This provides the set and setting for 15-minute closer "Supercontinent", which starts off in similar territory but gradually yields to a submerged and reversed techno pulse pumping through coruscated chordal drone, gaining in woozy mesmeric psych intensity over its inexorable hypnagogic trajectory. Sequence Three rounds out a satisfying trio of full-lengths that Light Conductor has released on Constellation, featuring vibrantly minimal geometric cover art designed by label co-founder Ian Ilavsky that integrates the trilogy as a visual series as well. In keeping with the previous two albums in the set, the Deluxe 180gLP includes a 12"x24" art poster. Thanks for listening.

Two-time BRIT Award winner Becky Hill will release her eagerly anticipated third album ‘REBECCA’ on September 25th.

‘REBECCA’ was written during a period of intense personal and artistic reflection and sees Becky exploring ambition, identity, visibility and the contradictions of her life from a place of greater openness and creative freedom. Across the record, she examines the tension between desire and self-preservation with clarity, humour and brutal honesty, resulting in her boldest, emotionally charged body of work to date.

Described by Becky as “curated chaos”, ‘REBECCA’ also marks a significant evolution in her sound. It sees her reconnecting with the wider influences that shaped her early musical identity, pulling inspiration from guitar music alongside the dance and drum & bass foundations that have defined her career. ‘REBECCA’ blends that collision of worlds with heavy electro production, alternative influences and euphoric electronics into an album that feels both expansive and unpredictable.

Two-time BRIT Award winner Becky Hill will release her eagerly anticipated third album ‘REBECCA’ on September 25th.

‘REBECCA’ was written during a period of intense personal and artistic reflection and sees Becky exploring ambition, identity, visibility and the contradictions of her life from a place of greater openness and creative freedom. Across the record, she examines the tension between desire and self-preservation with clarity, humour and brutal honesty, resulting in her boldest, emotionally charged body of work to date.

Described by Becky as “curated chaos”, ‘REBECCA’ also marks a significant evolution in her sound. It sees her reconnecting with the wider influences that shaped her early musical identity, pulling inspiration from guitar music alongside the dance and drum & bass foundations that have defined her career. ‘REBECCA’ blends that collision of worlds with heavy electro production, alternative influences and euphoric electronics into an album that feels both expansive and unpredictable.

the iconic project returns late September with its milestone 10th studio album, ‘I Wrote You A Letter’.

Twenty-five years after his debut, M83 (Anthony Gonzalez) stands as a genuinely era-defining electronic act, renowned for pushing indie-electronic into the mainstream while maintaining absolute critical credibility. With a massive catalog compounding billions of streams—anchored by the timeless “MIDNIGHT CITY” (1.5B streams)—the iconic project returns late September with its milestone 10th studio album, I WROTE YOU A LETTER’.
Recorded between Los Angeles and Paris alongside BENOIT DE VILLENEUVE, this new record follows the highly acclaimed ‘FANTASY’ (2023) and features striking artwork by celebrated Australian photographer BILL HENSON. This release marks a historic chapter, encapsulating a quarter-century of sonic evolution.
Commercially, M83’s power lies in an unmatched ability to transcend generations. Synonymous with cinematic emotion, nostalgia, and immense scale, M83’s sound is virtually a genre of its own, heavily sought after for film, TV, and sync. Live, the act holds top-tier global status, proven by headlining slots at major festivals like Coachella, Glastonbury, and Primavera.
‘I WROTE YOU A LETTER’ delivers exactly what M83 does best: big emotional scale, breathtaking cinematic atmospheres, and sharp hooks, all pushed into a fresh, modern palette.

Fünfundzwanzig Jahre nach seinem Debüt gilt M83 (Anthony Gonzalez) als ein wahrhaft epochaler Elektro-Künstler, der dafür bekannt ist, Indie-Elektro in den Mainstream zu bringen. Mit einem riesigen Repertoire, das Milliarden von Streams umfasst – angeführt von dem zeitlosen „MIDNIGHT CITY“ (1,5 Milliarden Streams) – kehrt das ikonische Projekt Ende September mit seinem wegweisenden zehnten Studioalbum „I WROTE YOU A LETTER“ zurück.

Das neue Album, das gemeinsam mit BENOIT DE VILLENEUVE in Los Angeles und Paris aufgenommen wurde, knüpft an das hochgelobte „FANTASY“ (2023) an und besticht durch ein eindrucksvolles Cover des gefeierten australischen Fotografen BILL HENSON.
Diese Veröffentlichung markiert ein historisches Kapitel und fasst ein Vierteljahrhundert klanglicher Entwicklung zusammen.
Kommerziell liegt die Stärke von M83 in der unübertroffenen Fähigkeit, Generationen zu verbinden.
Als Synonym für filmische Emotionen, Nostalgie und immense Größe ist der Sound von M83 praktisch ein eigenes Genre, das für Film, Fernsehen und Synchronisation sehr gefragt ist.
Live genießt die Band weltweit Spitzenstatus, was durch Headliner-Auftritte bei großen Festivals wie Coachella, Glastonbury und Primavera unter Beweis gestellt wird.

„I WROTE YOU A LETTER“ liefert genau das, was M83 am besten kann: große emotionale Bandbreite, atemberaubende filmische Atmosphären und eingängige Hooks, alles verpackt in einer
frischen, modernen Klangpalette.

The Veils' first three albums are returning to vinyl thanks to Rough Trade Records.

The Runaway Found (2004), Nux Vomica (2006) and 2009's Sun Gangs established the New Zealand band as purveyors of lush, romantic indie, able to sweep through cinematic vistas into intimate emotional corners, via gothic orchestration and atmospheric driving rhythms.

Founded and fronted by singer-songwriter Finn Andrews while still a teenager, over their first three albums, The Veils carved out a musical landscape of their own that was in turn deep and enveloping yet emotionally raw and direct.

Having only enjoyed a limited vinyl run on their releases, due to the format's neglected commercial status during the 2000s, the repressing of The Runaway Found, Nux Vomica and Sun Gangs, offers audiences a fresh opportunity to enjoy these records with the full depth, fidelity and artwork they deserve, and reminding listeners of the musical secrets The Veils revealed to the world.

“It is a sincere joy to see these records that are so important to us and to so many others reissued on vinyl by the label that nurtured us right from the start. I remain hugely grateful to them and to all the songs on these searching, impassioned, and magnificently youthful first attempts.” - Finn Andrews, The Veils

*Limited edition (500) reissue of The Orchids second album – originally released on Sarah Records in 1991- remastered with the 7” and E.P tracks from the time. Translucent pink*
“The Orchids have a lightness of touch, an autumnal and mellow fruitfulness, a clear-eyed pop nous. Imagine some nexus that takes in Felt, Orange Juice, The Beach Boys and The Go-Betweens”
-Stuart Maconie

“The Orchids can come on like esoteric angels high on Felt and Massive Attack”
– John Mulvey, NME

The early summer bloom of 1992 felt like it had been pollinated by a lot of sunshine-loving records from the year before, optimistic headrushes that embraced hedonistic bliss or at least a sweeter ride. There was still an element of bedroom wistfulness to singles like Higher Than The Sun, Nothing Can Stop Us and even Paris Angels’ Perfume but there was no denying the appeal that techno, rave and Bleep held, especially when it was microdosed. Bands were more willing to experiment with technology and producers, if not necessarily going for all whistles-blazing club bangers.

The Orchids, hailing from the suburbs of Glasgow were unlikely to ever emerge from their hood as contenders for a deal on Soma Records (which had begun in 1991 in that city) but they evidently wanted to stretch their boundaries beyond their introverted debut. Unholy Soul is somewhat breezier than Lyceum. It’s still laced with a Scottish melancholy but there’s more breathing space within the production. They’d hinted as much on their 12” ‘Penetration’ EP from 1991 and lovelorn songs such as Waiting For The Storm and Peaches are now spiked by absent-minded cherubs with an ear for the 3.a.m comedown.

As lead singer James Hackett says today: “Unholy Soul was the first time we had spent more than a couple of days in the studio, doing so after work. It was a thrilling period of creativity and we had most of the songs written but not enough. We didn’t worry about that too much though because with Ian Carmichael there was a new opportunity for studio generation. Also this was the first time we had heard Pauline (Hynds) singing with One Dove so we asked her to sing on some of the songs. We were obviously influenced by a lot of the music of the time but you can still hear it’s The Orchids at heart”.

The next year of course One Dove (with Carmichael programming) released their debut album - produced by Andrew Weatherall - on the Boy’s Own label. It felt like there was a lot of ideas being spun back and forth between artists and producers in the early 90s. If some of the records also sound very much of that time that’s no bad thing either. There was a lot of loved-up nostalgia for the 60s then so it’s no surprise that many of the records have a youthful exuberance coupled to a technological innocence, that’s the charm.

Montréal-based sound artist Steve Bates expands his strategies and stylistic influences on An Infinite Antenna, his second solo album for Constellation, giving freer reign to melodic components and textural dynamics: leftfield synth work, deconstructed drum machine, pointillist electric guitar, and radiostatic blur are all part of the new brew swirling around his bruitist signal-bending and field-recording sensibility. Arguably a more ambient album than his acclaimed 2022 Constellation debut, An Infinite Antenna is at the same time more densely packed with ideas, dynamics, evocations and earworms. Coming out of the anarcho-punk scene of the Canadian Prairies in the 1990s, Bates founded Winnipeg’s experimental sound festival Send + Receive in 1998 before moving to Montréal to become Sound Coordinator at Hexagram (Concordia University), delving further into sonic research and theory, tape-based composition, and installation work. Alongside the curatorial arc of his own sound art label The Dim Coast, Bates released several solo and collaborative albums on ORAL_records leading up to All The Things That Happen, the 2022 Constellation debut praised by Boomkat for its “grittily iridescent ambient billow rendering maximalist panoramas” and by Backseat Mafia as “extraordinary soundscapes of unstable, destructive cacophony and tender calm, echoes of the threat of power.” Where that album was noisier and single-minded, made with the self-imposed limit of a Casio SK-1, Bates plays more widely with instrumentation and atmospheres on An Infinite Antenna, also drawing on his post-hardcore roots in seeking a sort of track-by-track concision nonetheless driven by the album’s coherence as a seamless work. “I was trying to set durations I associate with punk rather than the longer, sprawling music coming from more ambient styles (that I very much love), and while I wasn’t able to quite pare it down to Minutemen durations, I had that reduction to essential elements as a sort of whisper over my shoulder.” Incorporating source recordings made throughout 2023-2025, including at artist residencies and site-specific sound installation visits in Bosnia and Herzegovina (the album’s cover photo was taken in Sarajevo), Austria, Greece, and Saskatchewan, An Infinite Antenna combines Bates’ “idea of slowly scanning a radio dial” with a soundworld of recurring timbral and textural touchstones that forge an integrated whole.

The album’s 12 tracks work effectively as stand-alone pieces, replete with shifting undercurrents, buried melody, and stuttering kinetics, and as a sequential flow where the brief interstitial silences between them are like short pauses to flip the next page in a sketchbook of perspectival studies of a wide but singular tableau. The glistening atonal synth expressionism of opener “Pink pink pink pink…pink pink” drifts gently toward submerged ambience, darkened by the noised rumble and static interference of “Green as a ghost”, which introduces broken beats and piano chords in its denouement. Tracks like “Battles and sieges and street trees” and “Easier sad than done” work the foundations of low-end field-recording resonance, but dappled with lovely melodic droplets of treated guitar and synth. “Waste, songs of the world” and “Disaster loans” are among the album’s most explicit stylistic references to posthardcore, with distorted ambient bass and gently abrasive drum sampling. Closing track “Swamps and factories”, the album’s longest piece, is perhaps most reminiscent of Bates’ previous record with its sustained dissonant glimmer-drone, but the journey An Infinite Antenna traces to get there is Bates at his most dynamic, diverse, distinctive, and engaging. Thanks for listening.

Recorded in Los Angeles over the course of a single day at a studio in the Eagle Rock neighborhood, Dois Desertos was produced by Mario Caldato Jr. and emerged without a predetermined plan or schedule. The project took shape during Portuguese musician João Pimenta Gomes' stay in Los Angeles with his family. During that time, through Rodrigo Amarante, João met Mario and Samantha Caldato, as well as musicians Abe Rounds (drums and percussion) and Gabe Noel (bass and cello). From those encounters, the album began to unfold organically.

Working from simple scores—some containing little more than chord progressions—the sessions left plenty of room for improvisation. Every performance was captured live, in a single take, with no overdubs. The mixing process, also carried out live by Mario Caldato Jr., followed the same philosophy: effects and level adjustments were performed in real time and printed directly to the final two-track master.

At the heart of the album's sound is the Cristal Baschet, a rare instrument played by rubbing glass rods with the hands, causing metal resonators to vibrate and produce an ethereal, resonant tone. João describes its sound as "a trace, almost like a shadow." Rather than taking the lead, the instrument serves as a textural foundation, while the bass and cello carry the melodic lines. Some of these melodies are original compositions, while others draw from traditional Portuguese fado, reimagined through an open and exploratory approach.

The album has a dreamlike atmosphere, reflecting the perspective of someone experiencing Los Angeles from the outside—not in a rush to belong, but fully receptive to the city's unique energy. Two films helped shape this imaginary landscape: Model Shop (Jacques Demy, 1969), in which the French filmmaker uses Los Angeles as a pretext to simply observe and inhabit the city, and Thom Andersen's Los Angeles Plays Itself. The result is Dois Desertos, an album that, in João's own words, "could never have been made anywhere else."

With Dois Desertos, João Pimenta Gomes invites listeners into a deeply immersive experience, revealing a more exploratory side of his artistic practice while reinforcing Amor in Sound's commitment to releasing original works that engage with the many languages of contemporary music.

Montréal-based sound artist Steve Bates expands his strategies and stylistic influences on An Infinite Antenna, his second solo album for Constellation, giving freer reign to melodic components and textural dynamics: leftfield synth work, deconstructed drum machine, pointillist electric guitar, and radiostatic blur are all part of the new brew swirling around his bruitist signal-bending and field-recording sensibility. Arguably a more ambient album than his acclaimed 2022 Constellation debut, An Infinite Antenna is at the same time more densely packed with ideas, dynamics, evocations and earworms. Coming out of the anarcho-punk scene of the Canadian Prairies in the 1990s, Bates founded Winnipeg's experimental sound festival Send + Receive in 1998 before moving to Montréal to become Sound Coordinator at Hexagram (Concordia University), delving further into sonic research and theory, tape-based composition, and installation work. Alongside the curatorial arc of his own sound art label The Dim Coast, Bates released several solo and collaborative albums on ORAL_records leading up to All The Things That Happen, the 2022 Constellation debut praised by Boomkat for its "grittily iridescent ambient billow rendering maximalist panoramas" and by Backseat Mafia as "extraordinary soundscapes of unstable, destructive cacophony and tender calm, echoes of the threat of power." Where that album was noisier and single-minded, made with the self-imposed limit of a Casio SK-1, Bates plays more widely with instrumentation and atmospheres on An Infinite Antenna, also drawing on his post-hardcore roots in seeking a sort of track-by-track concision nonetheless driven by the album's coherence as a seamless work. "I was trying to set durations I associate with punk rather than the longer, sprawling music coming from more ambient styles (that I very much love), and while I wasn't able to quite pare it down to Minutemen durations, I had that reduction to essential elements as a sort of whisper over my shoulder." Incorporating source recordings made throughout 2023-2025, including at artist residencies and site-specific sound installation visits in Bosnia and Herzegovina (the album's cover photo was taken in Sarajevo), Austria, Greece, and Saskatchewan, An Infinite Antenna combines Bates' "idea of slowly scanning a radio dial" with a soundworld of recurring timbral and textural touchstones that forge an integrated whole. The album's 12 tracks work effectively as stand-alone pieces, replete with shifting undercurrents, buried melody, and stuttering kinetics, and as a sequential flow where the brief interstitial silences between them are like short pauses to flip the next page in a sketchbook of perspectival studies of a wide but singular tableau. The glistening atonal synth expressionism of opener 'Pink pink pink pink_pink pink' drifts gently toward submerged ambience, darkened by the noised rumble and static interference of 'Green as a ghost', which introduces broken beats and piano chords in its denouement. Tracks like 'Battles and sieges and street trees' and 'Easier sad than done' work the foundations of low-end field-recording resonance, but dappled with lovely melodic droplets of treated guitar and synth. 'Waste, songs of the world' and 'Disaster loans' are among the album's most explicit stylistic references to posthardcore, with distorted ambient bass and gently abrasive drum sampling. Closing track 'Swamps and factories,' the album's longest piece, is perhaps most reminiscent of Bates' previous record with its sustained dissonant glimmer-drone, but the journey An Infinite Antenna traces to get there is Bates at his most dynamic, diverse, distinctive, and engaging. Thanks for listening

Ten years after All My Demons Greeting Me As A Friend introduced AURORA’s extraordinary musical universe to a global audience, The Moth Tapes takes listeners back to where it all began.

Built from intimate early recordings, demos and previously unreleased material from the original era, ‘All My Demons Greeting Me As A Friend (The Moth Tapes)’ opens AURORA’s archive to offer a new perspective on the creative foundations of her landmark debut and on the beginnings of an artistic journey that has since taken her around the world.

Unrefined and deeply personal, The Moth Tapes is both a celebration of where AURORA began and a bridge to the artist she has become.

Errands is the first duo recording from Marja Ahti, Swedish-Finnish sound artist and electroacoustic composer, and John McCowen, a native of Southern Illinois, now residing in Iceland, whose work centres on a radical exploration of clarinet multiphonics. Working without the aid of electronics, McCowen has spent years finessing performance techniques that allow him to layer beating patterns and split tones that belie their source in a monophonic instrument. Ahti, in contrast, has built up a stunning body of work in recent years using a classic electroacoustic palette of electronic, field recordings and instrumental sounds. Sharing a bill at the 2024 iteration of Stockholm’s Edition Festival, the pair discovered a sensibility shared across their different sonic means, beginning the collaborative process that would eventually result in the mercurial side-long pieces heard on Errands.

The word ‘errand’ suggests something purposeful but routine, and Ahti’s and McCowen’s work is suffused with the everyday. Meeting with McCowen to record in Iceland, Ahti used the opportunity to gather field recordings, capturing not the natural sublimity often associated with the country—think Chris Watson’s shifting glaciers—but everyday life in Reykjavik. Snatches of bustling streets and what could be humming engines thread between static sinewaves, stretches of clarinet resonances and fleeting textures, the latter often at once visceral and impossible to identify. Errands: we are a long way from the grandiose framing devices favoured by the pioneers of electroacoustic music, yet many of their principles are at work here. The gradual metamorphosis of one sound into another, the carefully achieved ambiguity between the acoustic and electronic, the treatment of the stereo field as a compositional element: all of these link Ahti and McCowen’s music to the electroacoustic tradition, yet their sensibility is radically different. The overall effect is a kind of stillness, but one at peace with continuous change. Like the unwieldy but somehow stylish everyday forms captured in the Hertta Kiiski photographs that adorn the record's sleeve, the music seems to prize a kind of deliberate awkwardness, interrupting static held textures not with an abrupt cut, but with a quick fade, suddenly revealing background as foreground.

Ahti and McCowen’s world is everyday and unornamented, but also shadowed by the numinous. Halfway through 'Chorales', we hear an arrangement for overdubbed recorders of an early motet of Messiaen’s, O sacrum convivium! Played on recorders, the piece shrinks into delicacy and dim memories of childhood music lessons, while at the same time its harmonies retain the grandeur of their liturgical origin. This double quality inflects much of what follows on Errands, including snatches of field-recorded water or air, which seem at once elemental and domestic. Enlivened with countless details that repay repeated relistening, Errands is a record that leaves the listener ready to open their ears anew to their own sound environment.

By 2004, dub had a history stretching back more than thirty years. This remarkable longevity can easily be explained by the evolving nature of this musical genre, which is constantly changing both artistically and technically, from Kingston to London, New York, and more recently Berlin, Paris, Lyon and Saint-Étienne. For example, it is worth noting that for some years now, in France and elsewhere, a good number of artists have been thinking in terms of dub from the outset, breaking free from the original Jamaican model, which involved drawing inspiration almost systematically from an existing vocal track. Thirty years on, with the release of their second album, Brain Damage aim to reconnect with this tradition. Recent collaborations with the two vocalists, Learoy Green and Black Sifichi, have indeed provided the ideal source material for the creation of five tracks, each rendered in their respective dub versions, thus forming an album with a symmetrical, even geometric character - from its very structure right down to its title: 'Ashes to ashes / Dub to dub'. At the heart of the project lies the astute choice of two guests, each operating in diametrically opposed spheres yet brought together for the occasion, thereby emphasising a certain 'unity of the circle': 'the unity of the circle'. Born of a genuine artistic vision, this geometric, symmetrical aesthetic-omnipresent in every detail of the album, both auditory and visual-complements Brain Damage's 'square' and robotic side, with its three-dimensional evocations. Always working in close collaboration with the very latest digital technologies. This brings to mind 'the balance of the cube'. Finally, the title itself, 'Ashes to ashes / Dub to dub', should be understood as a reference to the transience of all things in this world, against a backdrop of widespread, globalised, international, national and local crises_

»Pipe Dreams II & III« presents two new, side-long organ works by Mary Jane Leach, extending the sonic investigations of her 1989 landmark »Pipe Dreams«. Recorded in Ghent and Cologne, the two side-long pieces use shifting stops, resonance and beating tones to turn the pipe organ into a vivid, physical field of sound.

When »Pipe Dreams« was issued on vinyl for the first time by Blume in 2017, it was effectively the first time many of us encountered Mary Jane Leach’s music, finally placing her work in its proper historical context amid the searching Downtown milieu of Julius Eastman, Arthur Russell, Arnold Dreyblatt, Ellen Fullman, Philip Corner, Daniel Goode, and Peter Zummo. Leach collaborated with most of these artists at one point or another, either in Downtown Ensemble or as a guest on their records.

Now »Pipe Dreams II« and »Pipe Dreams III« arrive, recorded in 2023 and 2024 at Miry Concertzaal in Ghent, Belgium, and Kunst-Station Sankt Peter in Cologne, respectively.

»When I was a young child, my family lived next door to a church, where my mother was the organist. I spent many hours lying on the floor of the sanctuary listening to the music, letting the sound of the organ envelop me. I also liked to play the piano loudly with the pedal down, producing clouds of sound, much to my family’s annoyance. These two organ pieces explore some of my earliest musical interests and aesthetics.

In 1989, I lived in a tower attached to St Peter’s Church in Cologne, where I had access to its organ. It had two sets of pipes, front and back, which could create antiphonal effects. I spent countless hours exploring the possibilities of all the permutations of notes, space, and the resulting sound phenomena. I wrote »Pipe Dreams« for that organ. Fast forward to 2023, when I was asked to create a piece for organ for a concert at the Miry Concertzaal in Ghent, Belgium: »Pipe Dreams II«. I had a few days to familiarise myself with the organ, its available stops, and the layout of the console. I choreographed stop changes for a volunteer, as I couldn’t reach them myself. Some amazing sounds began to happen, and at one point the sound was so visceral that I felt as though I were taming a wild beast.

»Pipe Dreams III« was performed in 2024 on the organ that I had spent so much time playing in 1989–90. One big difference, though, was that the console was totally new and computerised. Having access to the organ for only a few hours before the concert, I decided that I did not have enough time to feel comfortable with the console and should not attempt to recreate the piece I had written in 1989. I would instead use the same sequence of stops and perform an improvised piece. I loved the sounds that were being created, and I was having so much fun that at one point I even started to laugh quietly. I began to visualise the beating notes as if they were atoms, opening them up to expose their innards, with the beating, higher-pitched notes — neutrons and protons — shimmering at the top, and the lower notes — the electrons — throbbing away at the bottom. I was playing notes not so much for their pitch value, but for how they affected the notes and sound phenomena already being played. Instead of a time signature, I timed the entries by listening to the beating patterns, waiting for the right moment to enter. And no, I wasn’t hallucinating.«

Mary Jane Leach, 2026

Founded in 2019 by Nick Whaley and Luca Tantari, Piss Drunk Records was born in Northern California from a shared passion for underground electronic music and the DIY ethos that has always driven independent scenes.

Rather than waiting for opportunities, the label was created with a simple philosophy: if nobody releases the music you believe in, do it yourself. Every release represents that independent spirit, putting artistic freedom before commercial expectations.

Nick Whaley has been an active figure in the Northern California underground electronic scene for many years, continuously releasing music, cutting lathe records, and performing live sets while keeping the local DIY spirit alive. Luca Tantari, originally from Italy, lived in California where the idea for Piss Drunk Records was born. After returning to Italy, he continued developing the label, expanding its international reach while preserving its original vision and underground identity.

Although founded in California, Piss Drunk Records has always maintained strong roots in both the United States and Italy, creating a bridge between two underground communities.

The label embraces a broad spectrum of electronic music, from raw industrial techno, experimental electronics and noise to old-school hardcore, gabber and more dancefloor-oriented productions. Style is never the priority—authenticity is.

The first five releases were issued as hand-cut lathe records and a limited cassette, reflecting the label's commitment to small-run, handcrafted formats. PDR006 marks Piss Drunk Records' first professionally pressed vinyl release, representing a new milestone while remaining true to the DIY philosophy that inspired the project from day one.

Piss Drunk Records exists for one reason only: to release music that deserves to exist—without compromise, without trends, and without waiting for permission.

Space Afrika, das in Manchester und Berlin ansässige Duo aus Joshua Tarelle Reid und Joshua Inyang, schafft rohe, detailreiche und eindringliche Musik mit Anklängen an Ambient, Trip-Hop, Techno und moderne Klassik, wobei es aus den Konturen seiner Stadt weitläufige urbane Dub-Landschaften entwirft. ,Quiet Storm" erweitert ihren Klang und ihre Bandbreite zu einer weitläufigen, kollaborativen Vision, die mit tiefer Geduld und Absicht geformt wurde und ihre eigene Coming-of-Age-Geschichte in eine bewegende Suite kathartischer Abstraktion einbettet. Die Songs spielen auf Spiritualität und die conditio humana an, auf die Spannung zwischen Kühnheit und Sanftheit, Ehrgeiz und hartnäckigen inneren Dämonen. ,Quiet Storm" ist eine Antwort auf den Werdegang des Duos seit der Veröffentlichung von ,Honest Labour" im Jahr 2021. ,Wir haben uns selbst und unsere eigenen Vorstellungen von Identität herausgefordert, insbesondere in Bezug auf Klasse und Diaspora, und wie dies in verschiedenen Musikgenres dargestellt wird. Wir wollten die Charakteristika unseres Projekts durch die Menschen zeigen, mit denen wir zusammenarbeiten wollten", sagt Reid. Inyang merkt an: ,Bei der Entstehung dieses Albums haben wir keine Kompromisse gemacht. Die Idee begann als eine Hommage an die Kunst der Schwarzen. Unsere Kooperationen waren sehr bewusst gewählt, als wir die Grundpfeiler der Geschichte entdeckten." Von der multidisziplinären Natur des Projekts zeugt die Beteiligung des gefeierten Künstlers Glenn Ligon, dessen Werk sich mit schwarzer Identität und Queerness befasst. Ligon, der zu Beginn der Aufnahmen eine zentrale Inspirationsquelle darstellte, stellte sein Werk ,Figure #30" (2009) für das Cover-Artwork zur Verfügung und erklärte sich nach Abschluss der Aufnahmen bereit, dem Projekt seinen Namen zu geben - eine beispiellose Geste dieses wegweisenden Künstlers. Beim Anhören der endgültigen Fassung dachte Ligon an ,Quiet Storm", das Radioformat der 1970er Jahre, das für seine sanfte Late-Night-Programmgestaltung mit Themen rund um Leben und Liebe bekannt war. ,Quiet Storm" führt den Hörer durch verschiedene Szenen, Zwischenspiele und Handlungsbögen, geprägt von dem Gefühl, dass seine Bewegung fließend und seine Figuren flüchtig sind. Monologe vor dem Spiegel setzen sich mit dem Existentiellen und dem Unmittelbaren auseinander: Überleben, Autonomie, Sinn. Das Album beginnt mit dem explosiven, von Streichern begleiteten ,Vanity", bei dem die Grammy-Preisträgerin Axelle Fanyo zu hören ist. Zunächst auf die Spalten eines stillen Raumes fixiert, entfaltet sich ,Vanity" unter Fanyos ausdrucksstarkem Sopran und durchläuft ein breites emotionales Spektrum von erhabener Kontemplation bis hin zu ergreifendem, herzzerreißendem Schmerz. Auf dem gesamten Album werden gesprochene und gesungene Worte sparsam eingesetzt, um eine kraftvolle Wirkung zu erzielen. Die Schönheit und Katharsis von ,MLN" ist ein kollektiver, langsamer Marsch, bei dem der britisch-nigerianische Künstler Tony Njoku mitwirkt, begleitet von Gabriel Evans an Gitarre und Lead-Bass, PIKE aus London am Schlagzeug und GB aus Kopenhagen an Keyboards und Streichern. Der letzte Satz verleiht ,Quiet Storm" seinen krönenden Höhepunkt. ,If This Is Hell" ist in einem einzigen Take als Bewusstseinsstrom des New Yorkers Deuén aufgenommen, dessen nachvollziehbare Spirale geistiger Aktivität von jazzigen, frenetischen Percussion-Klängen begleitet wird. Das Druckventil öffnet sich, als die phasenverschobenen Drums und die scharf beobachtenden, dialogartigen Phrasen abrupt nach der Zeile ,I wonder if that's what heaven's like?" abbrechen. Wir bleiben in der Behaglichkeit des Album-Closers ,Regards" zurück. Regentropfen treffen auf Orgel, Drone, Streicher und Keyboards, während das Nachladen von Waffen dem ruhigen Summen gegenübergestellt wird. Schwer und doch hoffnungsvoll erinnern Joshua Tarelle Reid und Joshua Inyang an ihre bisherige Reise. Als passend geheimnisvolles und mitreißendes Outro für ihr offenes Opus ist ,Quiet Storm" ein Meilenstein: selbst produziert, selbst finanziert und aus purer Tatkraft und Überzeugung entstanden. Durch verzerrte Zeit und schummrigen Dunst ist Space Afrika zweifellos angekommen

Space Afrika, das in Manchester und Berlin ansässige Duo aus Joshua Tarelle Reid und Joshua Inyang, schafft rohe, detailreiche und eindringliche Musik mit Anklängen an Ambient, Trip-Hop, Techno und moderne Klassik, wobei es aus den Konturen seiner Stadt weitläufige urbane Dub-Landschaften entwirft. ,Quiet Storm" erweitert ihren Klang und ihre Bandbreite zu einer weitläufigen, kollaborativen Vision, die mit tiefer Geduld und Absicht geformt wurde und ihre eigene Coming-of-Age-Geschichte in eine bewegende Suite kathartischer Abstraktion einbettet. Die Songs spielen auf Spiritualität und die conditio humana an, auf die Spannung zwischen Kühnheit und Sanftheit, Ehrgeiz und hartnäckigen inneren Dämonen. ,Quiet Storm" ist eine Antwort auf den Werdegang des Duos seit der Veröffentlichung von ,Honest Labour" im Jahr 2021. ,Wir haben uns selbst und unsere eigenen Vorstellungen von Identität herausgefordert, insbesondere in Bezug auf Klasse und Diaspora, und wie dies in verschiedenen Musikgenres dargestellt wird. Wir wollten die Charakteristika unseres Projekts durch die Menschen zeigen, mit denen wir zusammenarbeiten wollten", sagt Reid. Inyang merkt an: ,Bei der Entstehung dieses Albums haben wir keine Kompromisse gemacht. Die Idee begann als eine Hommage an die Kunst der Schwarzen. Unsere Kooperationen waren sehr bewusst gewählt, als wir die Grundpfeiler der Geschichte entdeckten." Von der multidisziplinären Natur des Projekts zeugt die Beteiligung des gefeierten Künstlers Glenn Ligon, dessen Werk sich mit schwarzer Identität und Queerness befasst. Ligon, der zu Beginn der Aufnahmen eine zentrale Inspirationsquelle darstellte, stellte sein Werk ,Figure #30" (2009) für das Cover-Artwork zur Verfügung und erklärte sich nach Abschluss der Aufnahmen bereit, dem Projekt seinen Namen zu geben - eine beispiellose Geste dieses wegweisenden Künstlers. Beim Anhören der endgültigen Fassung dachte Ligon an ,Quiet Storm", das Radioformat der 1970er Jahre, das für seine sanfte Late-Night-Programmgestaltung mit Themen rund um Leben und Liebe bekannt war. ,Quiet Storm" führt den Hörer durch verschiedene Szenen, Zwischenspiele und Handlungsbögen, geprägt von dem Gefühl, dass seine Bewegung fließend und seine Figuren flüchtig sind. Monologe vor dem Spiegel setzen sich mit dem Existentiellen und dem Unmittelbaren auseinander: Überleben, Autonomie, Sinn. Das Album beginnt mit dem explosiven, von Streichern begleiteten ,Vanity", bei dem die Grammy-Preisträgerin Axelle Fanyo zu hören ist. Zunächst auf die Spalten eines stillen Raumes fixiert, entfaltet sich ,Vanity" unter Fanyos ausdrucksstarkem Sopran und durchläuft ein breites emotionales Spektrum von erhabener Kontemplation bis hin zu ergreifendem, herzzerreißendem Schmerz. Auf dem gesamten Album werden gesprochene und gesungene Worte sparsam eingesetzt, um eine kraftvolle Wirkung zu erzielen. Die Schönheit und Katharsis von ,MLN" ist ein kollektiver, langsamer Marsch, bei dem der britisch-nigerianische Künstler Tony Njoku mitwirkt, begleitet von Gabriel Evans an Gitarre und Lead-Bass, PIKE aus London am Schlagzeug und GB aus Kopenhagen an Keyboards und Streichern. Der letzte Satz verleiht ,Quiet Storm" seinen krönenden Höhepunkt. ,If This Is Hell" ist in einem einzigen Take als Bewusstseinsstrom des New Yorkers Deuén aufgenommen, dessen nachvollziehbare Spirale geistiger Aktivität von jazzigen, frenetischen Percussion-Klängen begleitet wird. Das Druckventil öffnet sich, als die phasenverschobenen Drums und die scharf beobachtenden, dialogartigen Phrasen abrupt nach der Zeile ,I wonder if that's what heaven's like?" abbrechen. Wir bleiben in der Behaglichkeit des Album-Closers ,Regards" zurück. Regentropfen treffen auf Orgel, Drone, Streicher und Keyboards, während das Nachladen von Waffen dem ruhigen Summen gegenübergestellt wird. Schwer und doch hoffnungsvoll erinnern Joshua Tarelle Reid und Joshua Inyang an ihre bisherige Reise. Als passend geheimnisvolles und mitreißendes Outro für ihr offenes Opus ist ,Quiet Storm" ein Meilenstein: selbst produziert, selbst finanziert und aus purer Tatkraft und Überzeugung entstanden. Durch verzerrte Zeit und schummrigen Dunst ist Space Afrika zweifellos angekommen

Some recordings herald the future in ways that are impossible to see in real time. Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር), by the artist Teodros Makonnen, also known as Teddy Mak, is one of those. Today, electronic sounds, synthesizers, and digital production are taken for granted in Ethiopian music, but in the early 1980s, they were novelties that polarized opinion. Even to this day, the story of Teodros Makonnen’s legacy has never been properly told. He played a decisive role in defining the sound of the digital era of Ethiopian music that emerged in the 1980s and beyond, both as a keyboard player and as a producer, songwriter, performer, and sound designer.

Ethiopian music was at a crossroads in the early 1980s. Much like music in the rest of the world, technology and automation heralded either a quantum leap in musical development or the annihilation of musicianship, depending on who you’d ask. The changes were incremental nonetheless, but with the benefit of hindsight one can clearly see that the changes meant different things in different contexts. Drum machines and electric organs came to replace many hotel bands because, all of a sudden, one musician could control drums, melody, and accompaniment. Teodros was one of the first musicians in Ethiopia to explore the possibilities this opened up.

Teodros’ father, Captain Makonnen Beri, was a chief pilot at Ethiopian Airlines and a music enthusiast at that. This would prove important to his development, as Makonnen brought back a piano from Germany, which would lead to the first steps in Teodros’ long musical career. Captain Makonnen’s work as Head of Flight Operations and as a pilot exposed him to the wider world that was far from commonplace for most Ethiopians. In a house where music captivated the whole family, the piano gave Teodros’ talent an outlet. Not only was a piano at home rare in Ethiopian households, his father also brought an Indian teacher to their home to teach Teodros and his brother, Captain Samuel Makonnen, music theory (solfeggio or ear training) and piano. Teodros and his youngest brother, the late great Dereje, a member of both the legendary Ibex Band and the Ethiopian reggae group Dallol, took up music from that point onward, with Teodros beginning to develop his proficiency at the age of eight. His father encouraged him to practice tirelessly at home, and Teodros later received musical schooling at the German School in Addis Ababa.

His obvious talent led to studies and formal education at the Yared School of Music, followed by continued studies in American jazz at Northern Virginia Community College in Virginia. Teodros cut his teeth professionally in his mid-teens, not only as a keyboardist, but also as an arranger for the Wabi Shebelle and Dahlak bands in the 1970s. He mastered electronic sequencing early, rising to prominence through the midnight recording sessions held during the military curfew. The pressures imposed by the curfew required precise and disciplined recordings, and Teodros delivered just that. This, in turn, led to collaborations with iconic artists such as Mulatu Astatke, Aster Aweke, Menelik Wossenachew, Tilahun Gessesse, Mahmoud Ahmed, and Alemayehu Eshete.

In those days, he sat in as a keyboardist with the Dahlak Band when Dawit Yifru took a hiatus to study in Russia, and also with the Ethiostar Band. He secured a residency at the Wabi Shebelle Hotel with the Shebele Band, together with Zelalem Tadese (drums), later succeeded by Elias Bekele, Mulugeta Hailu (bass), Teferi ‘Bibisha’ Mengesha (guitar), Kumelachew G/Selassie (trumpet), and Teshome Deneke (saxophone). A friendly competition developed between the bands associated with the Ras Hotel (the Ibex Band), Ghion Hotel (the Dahlak Band), and Wabi Shebelle Hotel (the Shebele Band). The music scene at Wabi Shebelle saw teenagers commanding the spotlight in an industry otherwise dominated by musicians of an older generation.

At the Wabi Shebelle Hotel, Teodros met a diplomat from Saudi Arabia and later visited him at his home in Addis Ababa, a meeting that had unexpected musical consequences. The man owned a Yamaha double-deck keyboard. That evening, they recorded Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር) in one take. This recording, a cornerstone in the early digital sound of Ethiopian music, came about almost by chance, simply because Teodros got the opportunity. Traditional Ethiopian songs were cast in a wholly electronic style.

Once freed from backing duties, Teodros’ keyboards could explore dreamlike soundscapes that took Ethiopian music in new directions. Even though the cassette contained well-known Ethiopian songs, they were given highly original arrangements, performed on an electric organ with drum machine backing and rhythm patterns that left the listener with suggestive, lingering sounds. “Libesh Kabashen” (also known as “Anchi Bale Game”) and “Odu Gol Golesa” wrap you in the very stuff that dreams are made of.

Originally released on cassette only, this recording exudes a mystique that surpasses even some of the most obscure Ethiopian recordings of the day. It remained more or less unknown outside of Ethiopia until now. Some of the tracks, like “Addis Fikir,” are permeated with an almost naive buoyancy, free-floating sounds that lost contact with the ground the moment they were conceived. Others, like “Meche New Hageren Yemayew” and “Lelitu Alnega Alegn,” carry a moodier, quirkier timbre, with pulsating rhythms in the background. Yet even the darker pieces contain an unmistakable wave, something essentially Ethiopian. If most recordings of Teodros’s contemporaries at the time were teeming with atmosphere, his songs seem instead at home in the stratosphere, almost ethereal. Some of the music here could be filed under “lullabies,” were it not for the recurring, almost brooding feeling that engulfs the listener on the aforementioned tracks. You could easily be forgiven for drifting into a blissful haze as the music washes over you.

Up to the advent of electronic music production, Ethiopia was totally dominated by big bands on the one hand, and small groups on the other. The former were tied to large institutions such as the military, the latter emerged from the entertainment industry, in hotel bars and nightclubs. These groups were commercially driven, and bands ultimately had to foster a mercenary approach to employment, albeit not to the passion for music. In the light of this, Teodros’ musical legacy can be seen in two ways. On the one hand, he is a key player in Ethiopian music from the 1970s onwards, leaving an indelible mark through hundreds of compositions and arrangements, including soundtracks for numerous documentary films and advertisements for different companies. On the other hand, the way he and others employed electronics brought Ethiopian music onto a fork in the road.

The replacement of traditional instruments with electronic equipment was seen as impending doom by some. Others, like Teodros, saw new avenues for performance, production, and creativity. Just as later producers like Abegasu Shiota of Admas, Teodros was a trailblazer who opened paths that it took Ethiopian music as a whole more than a decade to rush into. The hotel scene had already been pushed toward electronic music by financial necessity and cost-cutting. Today’s revived global interest in Ethiopian music from the seventies and eighties, alongside a broader resurgence, has changed the reasons for using digital means of music production. They have become tools for musical dreaming. This is where the dreaming began.

►Under the new moniker A/N, French producer Apollo Noir delves deeper into his music and casts a strong yet versatile sonic alloy of atmosphere, beat, voice and texture.

►ACIE E R R (alliteration, French for steel) is a raw, eloquent and fickle stream of consciousness of openness and transparency.

Coming from the steel-city of Thiers, where his family forged a reputation as unrivaled knife manufacturers, A/N does not hide his deep bond with the age-old metal alloy and its making, which here become a structural metaphor in a work that inevitably goes deep into the emotional, the personal and the political.

A sort of 'romanticism of steel' sets the narrative mode of the eight tracker where touching chords progressions, pounding beats, synth washes and eerie vocal intrusions alternate grounded physicality and propulsive sways with unfathomable angelic hues and electro-acoustic subtleties.

Making use of a wide range of analog equipment and the invaluable help of drummer Seb Forrester, A/N's textural sound stream tempers its gleaming chrome finishes by means of sonic shocks and sublime coatings of distorted warmth.

From the bubbling arpeggios of 'Mentir En Temps De Crise' and the organic texture of 'Disparaître', to the clustered sound particles of 'Chromé' and the instant-classic attitude of 'Avoueur Condamner' (Andy Stott, Lanark Artefax) ACIE E R R's contrasting sonic energies bring openness and versatility into focus.

Steel is one of the world's most-recycled materials ☺

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

Sun Ra is better known to most as a musician than a poet, but he identified equally as both. My Words Are Music provides direct access to the sentiments of a poet who never called Earth home. The spoken word album hosts an inspired array of artists who personally chose their favorite Sun Ra poems to recite. Freed from the page, his poetry acquires an unexpected simplicity and poignance it possessed all along.

This all-star and intergenerational lineup of artists conjure wisdom from his words: spoken word elder Abiodun Oweyole of The Last Poets; rapper, and singer-songwriter Saul Williams; jazz experimentalist Melanie Charles; British-Trinidadian poet, novelist and musician Anthony Joseph; poet Mahogany L. Browne; poet, playwright, and conceptual artist Carl Hancock Rux; musician/digital composer L’Rain; singer, actor, and director Tunde Adibempe of TV on the Radio singer; British DJ and BBC radio host Zakia Sewell; ballistic hip-hop poet Jive Poetic; and longtime members of the Sun Ra Arkestra, Marshall Allen, Knoel Scott, and Tara Middleton.

Punctuated by impish electronic interludes composed and played by Marshall Allen, these voices bless Sun Ra’s poetry with new life My Words Are Music offers the opportunity to follow Sun Ra into a
better future. “Prepare for the journey,” he writes in his poem “The Cosmic Age”, “You have a rendezvous / With the living wisdom.” My Words Are Music is a project developed in conjunction with Living Sky, the all-instrumental Sun Ra Arkestra album released on Omni Sound in 2022

In the ever-evolving landscape of the underground music scene, few bands have made an impact quite like Selofan, an immensely talented duo of Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, has carved a niche for themselves within the international pantheon of darkwave, post-punk, and '80s synthpop, blending these influences to create a sound uniquely their own. Their journey, marked by a commitment to artistic integrity and evolution, has taken them from the cozy confines of local venues to the grand stages of international festivals, earning them a dedicated following and critical acclaim along the way. Their sixth album, Partners in Hell, released in October 2020, navigated the band through unprecedented times, testing their adaptability and resilience. Despite the hurdles to performing live and the global pandemic's challenges, Selofan emerged stronger, embarking on international tours with a newfound appreciation and connection with their global audience, during this period of introspection and isolation, Joanna Pavlidou embarked on a new venture, GIOVANNA, released under Selofan’s house label, Fabrika Records. GIOVANNA, which places Pavlidou at the helm of vocal and lyrical composition, represents a full on foray into synth-pop. showcasing a different facet of her artistic identity, with lyrics entirely in Greek. In 2023, Selofan hit the circuit hard, lighting up revered festivals with their presence. They stood shoulder to shoulder with heavy hitters like Molchat Doma and Lebanon Hanover at Grey Scale and performed with with the likes of The Sisters of Mercy, VNV Nation, and She Past Away at the Death Disco fest in their hometown of Athens. With each album they have released Selofan made significant strides in their evolution, deepening their engagement with their art. And their forthcoming seventh full length studio release, Animal Mentality, is poised to be their most compelling work yet. Animal Mentality unfolds as a labyrinthine journey through the elemental aspects of human emotion and experience, set against the backdrop of Selofan's signature darkwave sound. Each track on the album delves into different facets of the human condition, from the depths of desire to the pangs of isolation, encapsulating the duo's profound understanding of the intricate spectrum of human emotion and subjective experiences. The album kicks off with "Sticky Fingers," a track that melds cinematic scope with a haunting storyline, reminiscent of Jean-Michel Jarre's icy synths and a lyrical nod to Joy Division. This opening salvo revisits the tragic allure of classic car accident songs, weaving a tale of joy turned to sorrow amidst the snowy Alps. "Love's Secret Game" delves into the depths of forbidden desire, with vocals that echo the melancholy timbre of Xmal Deutschland, Lebanon Hanover, and Nico. It's a tale of passion and ephemeral connection, promising an enduring presence despite the inevitable fracture of time and distance. In "Lucille," sung by Dimitris Pavlidis, the plot is ensnared in the machinations of a tempestuous affair, with gothic undertones evoking the dramatic soundscapes of Ultravox and Clan of Xymox. The lyrics are steeped in danger and desire - a dance with the shadows. "Sacrifice Me" plunges into the abyss of despair, driven by a Bauhaus-esque bassline. It's a plea for release from the chains of alienation, a yearning for a final gesture of solace in the face of overwhelming darkness. "Bluebirds" offers a poignant reflection on solitude, with the fleeting imagery of bluebirds symbolizing the elusive quest for happiness. The song serves as a meditation on the internal struggle to maintain hope in a world shaded by sorrow. The narrative shifts with "Glassplitter," where German lyrics paint a portrait of deceptive allure and toxic entanglement. We are confronted with irresistible danger, masked by a veneer of beauty. "Ignoranz" continues the exploration in German, pondering the universality of misunderstanding. It's a reflection on the subjective nature of truth and the shared human experience of ignorance. "Behind My Eyelids" closes the odyssey, a contemplation on melancholy and metamorphosis. The phoenix rises from the ashes of betrayal to the brighter realm of renewal - a beautiful homage to the resilience of the human spirit amidst the often harrowing cycles of life. More than just an album, Animal Mentality is a milestone in Selofan's career, marking a decade of musical innovation and growth. It's a testament to their enduring spirit and a bold step into new realms of artistic expression. As Selofan continues to evolve, they remain at the forefront of their genre, pushing boundaries and exploring the depths of the human psyche through their haunting melodies and poignant lyrics.

A long-lost Japanese acid folk gem, Niningashi’s 1974 private press debut Heavy Way shimmers with originality, deft song writing and a dream-like groove.

Although he was training as a pharmacist, Kazuhisa Okubo was much more interested in prescribing musical medicine.
A coming-of-age album, Heavy Way captured a turning point in Okubo’s life, and Japanese society more widely as a nostalgia for the pastoral calm of the traditional life, met the cosmopolitan thrill of coffee, sex and cigarettes in the big city.
Intoxicated by Tokyo, driven by a passion for music and surrounded by a thriving acid folk scene, the young student filtered his experiences through a psychedelic cocktail of soulful influences from the US and Japan.
Niningashi was his first band, and Heavy Way was their only album. It was honest and raw, deep and strangely funky, in an off-beat kind of way. Across nine tracks, Okubo and the 6-piece band put their own spin on the new folk sound of Japan, combining witty lyrics with electric guitar-driven solos and crisp, understated grooves.

Melancholy and profound, opening track ‘Ameagari’ feels like a synthesis of Harvest-era Neil Young and Haruomi Hosono’s Happy End. Then there’s the whimsical washboard country sound of ‘Semai Boku No Heyade’; the moody, low-lit charm of ‘Restaurant’; and ‘Hitoribotchi’, a sensitive portrayal of childhood, steeped in memories of rainfall that will resonate with fans of Woo and Mac Demarco.
While Okubo would go on to taste success with psychedelic folk bands Neko and Kaze, the latter of which scored three #1 albums, little is known about his mysterious debut with Niningashi.
Self-released by Okubo in 1974, and featuring album artwork by his brother, it has slowly generated a cult following online, intrigued by its soft and enchanting sound. So few records were ultimately pressed that those remaining have fetched up to £1,500 online.

Featured on Time Capsule’s era-spanning collection Nippon Acid Folk, Niningashi’s Heavy Way is a deep-cut grail of a vibrant time in Japan’s musical history, where even the pharmacists were making jams.

»Cosmogonical Ears« is Amosphère's first album for Hallow Ground. Following her contribution to the Swiss label’s »Epiphanies« compilation and her 2021 full-length debut »More Die of Heartbreak« on 33-33, it features three expansive pieces. The Paris-based composer and multidisciplinary artist delves deeper into themes of time, space, cosmology, human perception, and psycho-physical effects, crafting profound sonic meditations. Drawing on a minimalist approach while blending electronic and acoustic elements, Amosphère’s long-form compositions are living, breathing entities whose sonic richness and evocative power unfold gradually over time, putting »Cosmogonical Ears« in direct kinship with previous Hallow Ground releases by artists such as Kali Malone and FUJI|||||||||||TA.

The album opens with its longest piece, »Land of eternal delight,« composed for the Buddha10 exhibition at the Museo d'Arte Orientale in Turin. Written during three years of isolation—a period in which Amosphère explored meditation practices and diverse belief systems—it merges mythology with personal transcendental experiences, reflecting on a challenging time for humanity. »By blending Buddhist philosophy and sculpture with my own meditation practices, I sought to explore a way for people to transcend the boundaries of space and time—not as a believer, but as an observer,« she explains. Featuring handmade ceramic instruments and recorded by Thomas Lefevre, the piece combines Amosphère’s electronic organ with Marc Lochner’s flute contributions, creating a sound that is simultaneously minimalist and expansive.

The concept of teleportation and how it challenges traditional notions of time and space serves as the foundation for the second piece. »Recent advances in quantum physics suggest that teleportation might be possible through quantum entanglement,« Amosphère notes. »What if science fiction is becoming reality—or has already existed in ancient times?« Drawing inspiration from theories proposed by physicists such as Roger Penrose, Amosphère again worked together with flutist Lochner, this time using her VCS 3 synthesizer. »Teleportation« weaves single notes into intricate, non-linear patterns that defy conventional logic, creating a complex auditory tapestry. The last piece »Black hole in, white hole out« was recorded on Corsica and features Miao Zhao’s bass clarinet drones alongside Amosphère’s church organ. It imagines the possible sound of crossing a black hole while also suggesting the study of its theoretical exit and its potential applications for large-scale time and space travel.

The questions posed by »Cosmogonical Ears« do not yield straightforward answers. Instead, Amosphère’s restrained yet intricately layered compositions require full immersion and concentration from the listener. As expressed by the album’s title—which envisions the birth of a new universe through listening—»Cosmogonical Ears« offers an experimental approach to auditory perception as a tool for seeking truth, freedom, and harmony between the outer world and the inner self.

Kokoroko today announce Tempos Difíceis Sempre Passam, a new remix EP reimagining tracks from their acclaimed album Tuff Times Never Last through the lens of some of Brazil's most exciting contemporary artists.

Translating the album's title into Portuguese, Tempos Difíceis Sempre Passam reflects both the enduring message at the heart of the original record and the creative dialogue between Kokoroko's expansive musical world and Brazil's rich, genre-defying music scene. The four-track collection brings together a handpicked group of artists whose individual approaches blur the boundaries between a variety of genres and contemporary Brazilian sounds.

To be released digitally and on limited vinyl, the EP also sees the return of acclaimed artist Luci Pina, whose artwork for Tuff Times Never Last is reimagined for this new chapter, creating a visual thread between the original album and its Brazilian counterpart.

Leading the announcement is Never Lost (Luedji Luna Remix), available now on all digital platforms. The celebrated Brazilian singer-songwriter brings her unmistakable warmth and emotive vocal sensibility to the track, offering a beautifully understated reinterpretation that deepens the song's themes of hope, resilience and togetherness.

Completing the EP are three further remixes from across Brazil's vibrant musical landscape. Onome of Kokoroko joins forces with acclaimed guitarist Nyron Higor for a richly textured rework of Da Du Dah, while producer Aleh Ferreira delivers a rhythm-driven reinterpretation of the same track. Closing the collection, Bruno Berle transforms Closer To Me with his signature blend of intimate songwriting, Brazilian groove and experimental pop sensibilities.

Together, the remixes offer fresh perspectives on Tuff Times Never Last, extending the album's spirit of optimism while celebrating the creative connections between London and Brazil.

Children of Zeus return with their third studio album ‘As The World Burns…’

Five years on from their highly-acclaimed sophomore album ‘Balance’, Manchester’s kings of hip hop soul, Tyler Daley and Konny Kon, bring us a brand new 16-track opus.

Sonically the duo continue their story where they left off; crafting an amalgamation of street soul, alternative r&b and boom bap hip hop, with a sprinkle of flavours taken from their original multi-genre pirate radio influences, and a dash of forward-thinking new sounds, ensuring all tracks are destined to become future classics.

The features are sparing but powerful, enlisting the talents of revered UK rapper Knucks (‘Before We Drown’), Colorado-native Young Old Soul (‘Dopamine’), MCR family K S R (‘Do You Want To Get High’, & Australian/Mauritian up & comer Anieszka (‘Water & Vibes’).

As with previous projects, this album is largely produced by the duo themselves, though there are guest productions from previous collaborators too, including Grammy Award-winner Beat Butcha, Grammy-nominated Teo, and broken beat pioneer K15, along with an assortment of new players making moves in the underground neo-soul & beats circuit.

Conceptually, this project continues on with the story to date. An eternal search for sunsets and soulfood, as a respite to the anxieties of the modern world; personally, professionally and globally. Assertive swagger is matched with brutal but sincere candidity. As ever, it encapsulates the rough with the smooth, with reflections on where they’ve been, where they’re at and where they’re headed. There’s no preaching to be found here; just an acceptance of things as they are, an embrace of the environment and people they were nurtured by, and a celebration of some of the finer things in life; slow jams, weed & rum, water & vibes. Raps for listeners, blunt heads, fly ladies and prisoners. All packaged together as another perfect sonic love letter to sound system culture. 50 minutes of big people music.

Since the release of their anthemic debut single ‘Still Standing’ a decade ago, to the subsequent EP ‘The Story So Far’, and their critically-lauded debut album ‘Travel Light’, the duo have received numerous accolades, including nominations for AIM Awards & Worldwide Awards both, along with tons of ‘Album of the Year’ nods care of Clash Magazine, Bandcamp, Complex, Wordplay and many more. This along with huge swathes of support from DJs, radio stations, press outlets, tastemakers, luminaries & fellow artists across the globe.

Children of Zeus have performed sessions for COLORS, Soulection (Apple Music), DJ AG, Boiler Room, BBC 6 Music and at the infamous Maida Vale studios for BBC 1Xtra as well as touring across Europe, Australia and South Africa. This is in addition to collaborating & touring with Mercury Award Winner’s Ezra Collective, including a Wembley Arena show. Other collaborations over the years have included Shy FX, Juls, Goldie, Black Milk, Kofi Stone and the late great Lenzman.

From the Broke ’n’ English / Hoodman-era, to the present day, Children of Zeus have been omnipresent in the fabric of British black music. Proud ambassadors of Manchester music, and of UK soul, it really is “Zeus to the world”.

Children of Zeus have been adorned with plenty of flowers over their career. The unbridled quality and poignance of the music and the message on display throughout this project will see the algorithmic needle move some more. It’s undoubtedly set to be a Zeus Summer. As the world burns…

Available on all digital platforms and physical formats, Friday September 4th 2026.







t 07: Do You Want To Get High? (feat. K S R ) - Children of Zeus03:26







t 07: Do You Want To Get High? (feat. [ K S R ]) - Children of Zeus03:26







[t] 07: Do You Want To Get High? (feat. [ K S R ]) - Children of Zeus03:26







[g] B3 | Do You Want To Get High? (feat [ K S R ]) - Children of Zeus03:26

FKJ returns with Tyber— a project that captures a period of personal and creative transformation following the release of his acclaimed album ‘V I N C E N T’. Written and recorded across multiple continents, the album reflects years spent navigating movement, solitude, collaboration and renewal.

The result is FKJ at his most expansive and uninhibited. Across ‘Tyber’, groove-driven compositions sit alongside jazz-led instrumentals, sample-heavy explorations and more direct songwriting moments, moving seamlessly through genres without ever losing cohesion. The album feels both deeply personal and globally informed, spotlighting an artist documenting his evolution in real time. It captures musical snapshots across London, Los Angeles, Paris, Brazil, and beyond to create music that combines intricacy and intimacy seamlessly.

Anchored by themes of emotional equilibrium and self-care, Tyber balances vulnerable storytelling with an unmistakable, groove-laden optimism. The album seamlessly weaves together spontaneous, late-night collaborations with artists like Labrinth, Bas, and Baby Rose, alongside deeply personal solo compositions. Ultimately, Tyber is a vibrant celebration of human connection and resilience, offering listeners an immersive, cinematic invitation into FKJ’s newly restored world.

For over 11 years, Nowadays Records has been shaping the French electronic music scene with boundless energy and total artistic freedom. Much more than a label, Nowadays is a big musical family where every release, meeting and event becomes a real celebration. With over a hundred albums and nearly a thousand titles to its credit, Nowadays Records embodies musical diversity across a variety of genres: abstract hip-hop, house, electronica and alternative pop.



It's in this festive spirit that the Club Nowadays project is born, a true embodiment of the collective's vision. Through its club compilations and evenings featuring label artists and outside guests.



Today, the label continues to chart its course with the release of Club Nowadays Vol. 6, a new opus in its series of compilations, which fully embodies its vision of club music. This sixth volume brings together emblematic figures of the label and emerging artists around the following dance tracks.



Don't Lie, the first single from the compilation, is a heartfelt track born of a broken heart, but turned towards the light. Mira Ló composed this track as an act of resilience, following a break-up in love. She transforms her pain into positive energy, hoping that everyone can recognize themselves in it and find a little sweetness to soothe their own grief.



R1D1 brings together his groovy house and garage influences to create the track Marsupilami around a hand-crafted synth, sharp drums and deep bass. Influenced by hip-hop beatmaking, he incorporates vocals from radio and interviews, transformed into rhythmic elements. The name, a nod to the famous character, comes naturally through the sampled “houba houba”. Between offbeat textures and assertive groove, the track embodies R1D1's singular, hybrid universe.



OOGO & Blanka, two pioneers of the label, offer us Phô Real, a hybrid track between soulful deep house and hip-hop groove, mixing organic and digital textures. A track to get the dancefloor moving, with a delicious nod to La Fine Équipe's culinary universe.



With Tracksuit & Loafers, Yambow creates a bridge between groovy French Touch elegance and the effervescent energy of UK house, in the tradition of producers like Salute and Oppidan. The track is conceived like an acid cocktail: funky, euphoric and dancefloor-friendly. The title is a nod to cultural contrasts - between English tracksuits and French loafers - which translate into a musical interplay between sophistication and fervor.



Finally, Laaanky, the Parisian producer, breaks codes and gives free rein to his passion for raw sound, efficiency and groove on the track Bloom. Between textured house, dub echoes and Afro-tinged post-dubstep rhythms, he explores a danceable, minimalist and percussive electronica. Less is more.

Remastered limited edition double vinyl with double-sided screenprinted poster-cover (sleeve folds out to be one huge poster). A real collectors item!

When Off Off came out around June 1984, one couldn’t speak of an independent music scene in Portugal. Warm Records’ vague existence didn’t have any impact and Dansa do Som’s inaugural release appeared only in December. 10 years after the revolution, after two IMF interventions, a lot of political instability (not to say turmoil, in the first couple of years) and the natural excesses of a sudden burst of freedom, the Portuguese consumer had more choices but a generally poor standard of living. There was no entrepreneurial culture and serious second thoughts about investing private money in risky ventures.

After many complaints about the whole music scene (institutions, critics and record label executives, popular and classical music alike), something that would continue well beyond the end of the decade, Telectu decided to finance, record, produce, release and sell an album with complete independence from outside structures. Their karmic reward was profit. According to Vítor Rua, Off Off was the only album fully payed by the duo and the only one that really payed off. Not an easy accomplishment for a double LP housed in a large (also double-sided) screenprint with complicated cuts and folds. The artwork was conceived by António Palolo, a friend and multidisciplinary artist. It was based on a collage of heavily saturated and xeroxed polaroids framed in shocking pink and green. Palolo was considered the third member of Telectu, regularly producing slides, video and other visual support for their shows. The inspiration for the type of cover came from GRM’s Gramme series.

Off Off is divided in four distinct sides, each one corresponding to a “theme” or “function” related to Telectu’s manifold artistic interests and interactions. The titles are also gateways to influences and a small portion of Portuguese cultural life:

- Side 1 / “Diagonale” is dedicated to Egídio Álvaro, art critic and gallery director (he opened Diagonale in Paris). Performance art was arguably his main artistic concern over the years, so the music on this side is suggested for use by one or more performers in live or playback situations. The three tracks segue into each other, linked by a synth arpeggio much in the same way as Telectu’s previous “Belzebu” álbum (1983);

- Side 2 / “Anarké” is dedicated to the composer Filipe Pires, one of Jorge Lima Barreto’s recurring invocations when asked about worthwhile contemporary music in Portugal. It is subtitled “concert music”, proposing «a new form of listening». Three tracks also, and these are separated by “clap interludes”, which basically consisted in the following: JLB and VR each had a pair of headphones on, and they clapped their hands according to the rhythm of the music each one was listening. Both musicians were interacting with a different Steve Reich piece: Vítor with “Music for Mallet Instruments”, Jorge with “Six Pianos”. The result is disjointed clapping, an awkwardly deliberate celebration of their own music. Telectu applauded themselves.

- Side 3 / “Cornucópia” is subtitled “music for theatre” and dedicated to Luís Miguel Cintra and Luís Lima Barreto (JLB’s brother), both connected to the Cornucópia theatre company. The side consists of several short pieces previously used as interludes in the Cornucópia staging of “Mariana Espera Casamento” (1983). Field recordings, mood pieces, ambience and a numeric poem (“Soneto Soma 14x”, by E.M. de Melo e Castro) read by João Perry, a quite well-known stage actor. His voice is treated with a flanger effect;

- Side 4 / “Palolo” is “video music”. It’s a one-take mix recorded from cassette sources (Telectu studio experiences) and done live while watching António Palolo’s Om film (1978) projected on the living room wall. It’s a deep, immersive, quasi-mystical 20-minute piece perfectly suiting the meditative, abstract, fluid images created by Palolo by mixing paint and water inside a bathtub. One imagines the Cosmos, hardly suspecting the technique. The film is 90 minutes long, so the music on the LP is of course edited.

The six titles on sides 1 and 2 evoke demons, all of them with conflicting symbolism, since it varies from culture to culture, religion to religion. No explanation is given and Vítor Rua has no idea where this imagery comes from. During virtually the whole stretch of the 1980s, Jorge was the one in charge of titles and concepts, and Vítor didn’t bother too much even reading the liner notes :) In any case, when you synchronize the listening experience with the imagery, a powerful impression emerges, a feeling of being in the presence of these entities while placing yourself inside the sonic narrative.

Off Off is undoubtedly a seminal album in the history of electronic music, as much Heldon as Fripp & Eno, jazz and American minimalism, cosmic out-thereness, mantric miniatures. Telectu at the height of their powers, still very early on, delivering an album-manifesto advocating intermedia art and the fierce independence of Portuguese musicians «from the scum of capitalist music industry monopolies. It’s a path to follow, albeit one that requires enduring hardships and retaliation from music industry gangsters.» Despite a few journalists deemed «capable of being free», the media are «enslaved by the dominant and fascist imbecility of the speculators of light music.» Off Off is addressed to those journalists «and to an audience angry at the cultural misery imposed upon us ..., certain that this music will open new horizons of musical pleasure in the conception of Portuguese avant-garde music, and in the open consciousness of us all. OFF OFF repeats Freedom.»

Those two words are a direct lift from Alberto Arbasino’s 1968 book Off Off, the basis of which is a critical analysis of Theodor Adorno’s and Dwight MacDonald’s ideas concerning the stratification of culture in different levels (high, mid and low) and the pervasiveness of mass culture in the form of a culture industry. In very simplistic terms, and that is precisely the point that inspired Jorge, Arbasino argued that it was possible and desirable to effect a revolution from below, cultivating alternative circuits completely cut-off from what he termed the in-in reality. Telectu’s record was a deliberate demonstration that it could be done, displaying Freedom in the face of all the gatekeepers and other human obstacles.

Pioneering Ghanaian musician King Ayisobareturns September 4, 2026 with his forthcoming seventh album Pure Confusion, recorded and produced by On-U-Sound’s Adrian Sherwood.

Ayisoba is one of Ghana’s most distinctive musical voices. The world’s foremost player of the kologo - a homemade two-string lute fashioned from a calabash and covered in goatskin - he delivers fiercely political and socially observant songs using three different voices, including the voice of his grandfather that possessed him as a child. Sherwood meanwhile is the pioneering British producer and founder of On-U Sound whose hugely influential career has connected dub, post-punk, industrial, hip hop and experimental music through collaborations with artists including Lee “Scratch” Perry, Mark Stewart, Horace Andy, Sinéad O’Connor, Nine Inch Nails and Depeche Mode.

Ayisoba and Sherwood first collaborated during a BBC Radio 3 Late Junction session at Maida Vale in 2017, organised by Ayisoba’s long-time collaborator Arnold de Boer/Zea of The Ex. The pair immediately connected, and during the pandemic, when Adrian’s long-time African Head Charge collaborator Bonjo Iyabinghi Noah was in Ghana looking for musicians to collaborate with Sherwood suggested Ayisoba, who eventually featured on two tracks on African Head Charge’s 2023 album A Trip To Bolgatanga (Bolgantanga is the region Ayisoba is from). Ayisoba then returned to the UK in late 2024 and travelled to Sherwood’s Ramsgate studio where the pair laid down the songs that would become Pure Confusion: “All the songs were already in my head,” says Ayisoba. “This album is all recorded live, over one afternoon. Adrian only plays live, and I like that. And he works hard - he doesn’t sleep. I woke up in the night and he was still working.”

“In my role producing it, I just let it roll to make a good vibe,” says Sherwood. “We recorded it completely live, did some programming and processing on some tracks, using dub techniques live on the mixing desk and adding some slick touches. We wanted the colours on the album to swing off what Ayisoba was doing, so we invited some friends to participate. Doug Wimbish (Sugar Hill Gang) arrived from America and lent his services playing bass on a couple of tracks; the wonderful Ivan Hussey (Celloman) played bass, keyboards and cello - cello is not really featured on African recordings so we thought it would be really cool to try it. I'd been working with Alex White (Fat White Family/Primal Scream) on my album (The Collapse of Everything) and so he added sax to a few tracks and I brought Alan Glenn down especially - Alan was in Little Axe but also Nine Below Zero and played in the Yardbirds – to add some mouth organ; Mark Bandola added a bit of flavour with his Juno, Ayisoba’s long-time Ghanian collaborator Ayuune Sule added some percussion and vocals and Matt Smith did some programming.”

“King Ayisoba is quite amazing, so unique,” Sherwood continues. “He’s got his own handmade instrument and three different voices - when you’re listening you think it’s three different people. He’s a breath of fresh air, full of love for the music which he wants to share with everybody. Some tracks we kept very straight and others we experimented with - adding dubby psychedelic little touches to trip you out a bit. The added production we did at On-U has given it a shine while still keeping it vibrant, live and spontaneous. I’m really proud of this record”.

On Pure Confusion, Ayisoba documents the anxieties, contradictions and changing social realities of contemporary Ghana. “Land is a problem for everyone,” says Ayisoba of the opening track “Property”. “If you don’t build on your land they will take it away. Plenty corruption in Ghana, plenty confusion. They sell the land to two, three, four people and then everybody fights.”

Elsewhere Ayisoba explores illness, spirituality and social stigma on “Bemba”, warning against hiding sickness out of shame or fear of “bad juju”: “People hide their sickness and the sickness kills them.” “Tewigiloge” reflects on cultural difference and open-mindedness encountered through world travel: “We will tour the whole world and we will see many things we may not like or understand… your eyes will see, but don’t talk - you have to be open-minded.”

Spirituality runs deeply throughout the album. Ayisoba’s grandfather was a respected spiritual healer whose presence the musician says still guides him today. “The grandparents’ spirits are the ones you can contact,” he explains of the spiritual chant “Nkaase”. “This song talks about the forefathers.” The closing track “Leeda-Mampanga (It’s Not My Strength)” acts as a statement of humility and gratitude: “You have to be humble, even if you have talent. God gives you the power.”

For more than two decades, King Ayisoba has been one of Africa’s most distinctive musical innovators, transforming northern Ghanaian kologo traditions into a bold contemporary sound rooted in hypnotic rhythms, social commentary and spiritual intensity. Since the breakthrough success of 2006’s Modern Ghanaians, Ayisoba has built an international following through acclaimed albums, relentless touring and collaborations with artists including Lee “Scratch” Perry, Orlando Julius and African Head Charge. Performances at Roskilde, WOMAD, Le Guess Who? and the Barbican have further cemented his reputation as a singular live performer and cultural force.

Geoff Kirkwood (Man Power)

I’dgained some notoriety as a music producer and DJ but I hit a horrible case of writers block around 2018.

The problem I was finding was that I was trying to shoe horn every smart arsed clever dick musical reference I had into the music I was making, but the function of dance music is to make people dance, not to show people who broad your musical references are, so I was making pretty shitty music that landed in the middle and didn’t achieve either aim.

To tackle this I ended up committing to just trying to make the most expressive and wanky experimental stuff I could. I was immersed in club culture at the time so the whole enterprise started as a joke, hence the name “Bed Wetter”. However when I fully submitted to just naked exploration the really unexpected thing that happened was that I found myself unavoidably having to deal with a lot of my own bullshit. That bullshit turned into the “Billy Mill is Dead” album, which was essentially the sound of me excavating my own life and looking at how I felt about where I was from, where I was headed, my family, my history, my region and all of the things i have conflicting feelings about.

It was partially catharsis and also a bit of deprogramming around being able to call myself an artist after being raised to believe that wasn’t an option for me.

I self released Billy Mill is Dead in the months before the pandemic and it found it’s fair share of love in the places I hoped would connect with it, and just the right amount of being ignored by people who I’m pleased didn’t feel it. This all lead to me being emboldened enough to apply for an artist in residence position at a big regional opera house months later in the middle of lockdown.

My feeling was that if my DJ career was potentially over for the remainder of my lifetime then there was no harm in exploring this alternative method of expression to see where it could take me.

I submitted a ridiculously ambitious plan for what I would like to do as a project, and to my absolute shock I was selected for the position.

I was 40 years old and from a scarcity background so I had a potentially unique response to that kind of validation for the first time and what followed next was a process of me just coming back with bigger and more ridiculous ideas just to find out at whatstage they’d tell me to stop.

The thing is, nobody did. I got as far as suggesting writing a full symphony to be performed by an orchestra before my own nerve gave out and I decided that was probably as far as I should push things.

The problem with people giving you permission to do things is that you then need to go out and figure out how to do those things.

The biggest issue for me, beyond raising the money to pay for everything, was how does a person actually write a symphony?

I was introduced to Fiona Brice, a multi instrumentalist and orchestral arranger. She’s also a recording artist who releases on Bella Union. On top of that she’s a violinist who used to be part of the band Placebo and who used to appear regularly playing for other bands on things like Top of the Pops.

Not only was Fiona uniquely placed to not look down on the strange provenance of someone from an Acid House background wanting to write a symphony, but more to the point we really hit it off from day one.

Fiona coached me in the essentials of writing for an Orchestra, and then I went off and wrote the 8 movements.

I’d love to say I laboured for years over this bit, but it took about 2 weeks in total. I’d also love to say what I wrote was a complete symphony, but the version of this which is solely me feels like looking at something without your glasses on. The shape,feel and borders were all there, but the definition was absent. Fiona taught me the broad language of a symphony, but without her it would have lacked all intonation, nuance and detail. Where I had shaped ideas with a hammer, she brought out my meaning with precision using a scalpel.

I think the prodigiously quick turnaround for the music is as much proof of how conceptually and musically aligned Fiona and I are. I know we’re both incredibly proud of what we’ve created.

It took nearly 2 more years to stage the debut performance in what was potentially the most traumatic period of my life which saw me embroiled in an international crisis with my own family and the death of my father, all with the backdrop of COVID.

The work itself is inspired by the working class experience, but it’s also a comment on how we get to decide what we are and how we’re defined, and we get to choose what we do to prove these things.

The original recording was contractually impossible to ever share again, so we re-recorded it in a working men’s club with jobbing (albeit world class) players. In many ways it’s a record that feels like it shouldn’t exist, which is why we’re all so happy that it does.

Could it be that the world is finally ready for the tempestuous folk-rock opera that is "All the Leaves are Gone?" In 2004, only the truly informed and forward-thinking heads "got" this mini masterpiece. Critics scratched their heads and usually resorted to comparisons of past artists, like ol Grace Slick and her Great Jefferson Society, Fairport Convention (but which era? SURELY Judy Dyble's early reign?), and at best, Shirley Collins. A few fans attempted to connect the record to even more obscure "freak folk/rock" like Mellow Candle, Fear Itself, or Trees. "All the Leaves are Gone" was made by unique personalities not concerned with influences or copying any bygone era. Surely, some things are in our DNA or even early childhood, as Josephine Foster's roots in opera manifest themselves as much as any other influence in this organic song cycle. Sure, guitarist Brian Goodman may have heard Richard Thompson before, but his alchemical and molten guitar spray is purely his own, in tunings and intervals still not meant for normal humans to understand, mostly because his 2004 guts were poured into every sublime note (I think even Brian himself never even understood how good he was). That fiery emotion is also in every nuance of Foster's songs--like life, there's disquieting, jagged moments of unease, and there's calm both before and after the storm. There are moments of utter gentleness along the journey---because yes, every concept album should be a voyage, and this is one everyone should take. - Steve Krakow.

Moving between lo-fi experimental songwriting, sparse post-punk textures and intimate recordings; Ukrainian artist Regina Collage’s new album ‘Horizont’ is a personal and honest document of rebuilding a life and creative voice in Bristol. The record holds space for themes of burnout, quiet shame, tenderness and the courage of staying emotionally open when the world feels unstable. Sung entirely in Ukrainian, ‘Horizont’ does not ask the listener to understand every word. Feeling carries the songs forward. Across bedroom recordings and borrowed studios, Regina moves between cloudy dissonance and stark minimal arrangements built around bass, fragments of guitar, and an exposed voice. The recordings hold onto their rough edges. Mistakes remain and imperfection becomes part of the story. “Music for me is about not being scared to be vulnerable,” Regina says. “Almost every song I have is about what it means to be open and emotional. I really do not think it is a weakness. I hope people can listen and feel welcome to take a break and just let their emotions exist.” The album takes its name from the Ukrainian word for “horizon,” that unreachable line where sky meets earth. For Regina, the horizon became a quiet metaphor for living with distance and uncertainty. Inspired by one of her collage artworks showing a figure lying in grass and staring toward that far line, the title track reflects a feeling of moving toward something that never quite comes closer. Even without understanding the lyrics, the song carries a slow sense of longing and suspended arrival. m‘Vpiznavaty’, by contrast, initially feels almost light. Beneath that surface is a candid portrait of burnout and depressive exhaustion. The song looks at those moments when even greeting friends feels overwhelming. It captures the quiet embarrassment of withdrawing from people you care about, and the slow recognition that sometimes stepping away is simply how you survive. Other songs reveal different sides of the same emotional landscape. ‘Weak’ strips everything back to bass, a hint of guitar, and a bare vocal. Written and recorded in a single instinctive session, the track circles around the idea that softness might be its own kind of strength. Repetitive and intentionally unpolished, it quietly sets the tone for the whole record. Running through ‘Horizont’ is the reality of Regina’s life between Ukraine and the UK. Her hometown Kharkiv continues to face attacks, and many of her friends remain on the front line.

From Berlin to Lagos: Jembaa Groove expand their sound on "Be A Lover"

Berlin-based outfit Jembaa Groove return with "Be A Lover", a four-track EP set for full release on 18 September via global soul imprint Agogo Records. Following two critically acclaimed albums and an intensive period of touring across Europe and the US — including a SXSW showcase and a widely acclaimed KEXP session — this latest release marks a new chapter in the band’s trajectory. Built around highlife rhythms and shaped by Afro-jazz and the more organic edges of Afrobeats, "Be A Lover" unfolds with a warm, languid and deeply soulful feel, capturing different strands of today’s multifaceted Afrofusion scene.

Here, the band strips back from a seven-piece ensemble to its two founding members, while at the same time opening outward into a deeply collaborative space. At its centre is a close creative partnership with celebrated Nigerian highlife revivalists The Cavemen., alongside contributions from London-based, Nigerian born soul artist Azekel, Lagos vocalist Tim Lyre, and Malian icon Fatoumata Diawara.

“This record has a different flavour,” says Owusu. “It’s really about collaboration — different feelings, different thoughts, different energies coming together.” While centred around the Lagos contemporary scene, the record is shaped by a wider diasporic network stretching across London, Lagos, Berlin and Amsterdam, cities producer and bass player Yannick Nolting describes as “the pillars where everything that is happening in today’s highlife and Afro-fusion scene.”

Formed in Berlin in 2020, Jembaa Groove began after a chance meeting between bassist, producer and composer Yannick Nolting and percussionist, vocalist and songwriter Eric Owusu. Drawing on their respective musical journeys — Nolting’s years working with Lusophone artists in Lisbon and Owusu’s deep roots in Ghana’s highlife tradition, including work with Pat Thomas and late highlife legend Ebo Taylor — the project quickly took shape: their debut album Susuma established a powerful, poly-rhythmic sound grounded in highlife, jazz and soul, while 2024’s "Ye Ankasa | We Ourselves" expanded that vision through collaborations with artists across Ghana and its diaspora, including UK based Ghanaian singer, rapper, percussionist, and arranger K.O.G and legendary Ghanaian highlife musician Gyedu-Blay Ambolley.

The collaborative spirit continues on "Be A Lover", most of which grew out of a meeting with sibling duo The Cavemen. at Supersonic Jazz Festival in Amsterdam in 2023, leading to a sustained exchange of ideas between Berlin and Lagos. With two acclaimed albums behind them, The Cavemen. have emerged as central figures in both Lagos’ alternative music scene and the wider contemporary highlife revival, bringing the genre to a new generation through a stripped-back, melody-driven sound. “There was some kind of magnetism towards Lagos,” says Nolting; for Owusu, who is Ghanaian but spent much of his life in Nigeria, the connection runs even deeper. “I feel lucky to be able to bring different cultures together and make something really beautiful,” he says. A key part of that process was a close working exchange between Nolting and The Cavemen.’s Kingsley Okorie, who effectively stepped into a co-producing role on three out of four of the tracks.

The one exception is opener No Pain No Gain, which features Nigerian-born, East London-based Azekel, whose smooth, R&B-leaning vocal moves through a slow-burning arrangement of bright keys, gently rising horns and atmospheric synths, anchored by Owusu’s organic percussion.

The title track Be A Lover, featuring Afro-fusion Lagos artist Tim Lyre, distills the EP’s central message into its most immediate form. Backed by syncopated percussion and a gently smouldering arrangement, Lyre’s voice moves with a laid-back, melodic ease, delivering a simple refrain: “be a lover, not a fighter.” “It’s a very simple message,” says Nolting, “It’s about showing more love, on a personal level but also more broadly… just show love.” That same sense of warmth runs throughout the record, reflecting its core idea.

On Obi, The Cavemen. take centre stage, with Kingsley Okorie leading through melancholic, plaintive vocals rooted in classic highlife. In contrast, his brother Benjamin James punctuates the track with high-pitched vocal interjections, heightening the emotional tension against a backdrop of slow, restrained instrumentation.

Waka follows with a more melodic, hook-led refrain from Eric Owusu, whose loose, almost conversational delivery creates a striking contrast with Fatoumata Diawara’s unmistakably powerful, raspy vocal. The collaboration grew out of a chance meeting while Owusu was on tour, with ideas exchanged quickly and Diawara returning a finished vocal within days. “We are so proud to have her. It’s a privilege” says Owusu. "Be A Lover" is a record shaped by connections like these — between people, scenes, and cities. “It was partly intention, partly destiny,” says Nolting. “We met these people along the way, and somehow Lagos was meant to come into our path.”

Bachar Mar-Khalifé Plays Christophe

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