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Hot Creations Summer 2026 Vinyl Sampler featuring four of the Hottest recent releases on Hot Creations.

Adam Ten and Asulin join forces for the first time on Hot Creations with ‘Warawara’. Fusing driving grooves, finely tuned production, and emotive vocals into a cohesive club-ready statement. ‘Warawara’ moves with hypnotic energy and forward momentum, as Adam Ten channels his signature blend of evolving rhythms and precise production, before Asulin’s vocals weave seamlessly through the arrangement, delivering melodic clarity and emotional resonance. High-flying UK DJ/producer Riordan debuts on Hot Creations with ‘Feel The Funk’ which locks into a slick groove built around silky M1 organs, skippy drums, and soulful vocals, as it twists through a series of cascading builds and drops. Infectious as hell!

Following the release of ‘Murder Mystery’ in October, Jamie Jones’ groove-driven track returns with a reinterpretation from one of the scene’s most hyped talents: German producer Kolter’s remix injects the track with his unmistakable style: deep, rolling basslines, playful funk tones, and raw, 90s-inspired textures that keep the energy moving. The result is a version that maintains the original’s tension and groove while opening new sonic spaces for DJs and dancefloor explorers alike - bridging underground sensibilities with festival-ready punch. Finally, Volkoder returns to Hot Creations with ‘My House’, a no-nonsense groove designed to hold and control the dancefloor. ‘My House' locks in from the off, sitting firmly in the pocket with commanding synths, hooky vocal interjections, and chunky low-end weight, while smaller details dart around the groove to add splashes of momentum.

2026 Repress

Initially conceived as a short-run cassette for Altered States Tapes, YL Hooi's nameless collection of textural apparitions oscillate between icy DIY minimalism, FX-drenched atmospherics and nang chamber dub. A ghost-like transmission, Hooi's voice serves to anchor an array of sonic abstractions and impressionistic melodic motifs as a sense of purgatorial ambience dominates throughout. Co-produced with alleged fellow Kallista Kult member Tarquin Manek (LST, M. Quake), Untitled's ultimate sensation is its halfway state, as if caught between worlds.

The album's final form speaks of its origins, recorded intermittently over a two year period (2017-2019). The extended time passage seeps into the song structures, spiralling and mutating from the same centre - the elegiac pulse of opener 'Title' presages the hymnal lilt of 'Straight Thru', before birthing the inverted bossa nova of 'W/O Love'. The result is a constantly shifting tableaux of shared liminal spaces. These songs seemingly emerge in plumes of smoke, magician's tricks conjured from the ether. It's a vision that ossifies at Untitled's midpoint with a cover of Love Joys' 'Stranger', the lovers rock original morphed into the transportive intimacy of Hooi's own hazy inner space, a totem of the LP's amorphous and ultimately sensuous qualities.

The sound from both down under and way out there in subspace, Untitled is an inspired masterstroke of experimental mystics. This 2021 Efficient Space edition is remastered and robed in new artwork that honours the Melbourne-based earth dragon's Chinese and Russian heritage.

Seasoned sunset soundtrack label-owner, DJ and composer Mark Barrott returns with new album The Exit Diaries. A constant innovator and master of chillout, the record is a rich, deluxe affair comprising two long-form instrumental pieces that weave together soul, jazz, orchestral composition and electronica. With over three decades of output across multiple aliases, Barrott has carved out an influential space spanning early breakbeat futurism, Balearic folk, orchestral ambient and global electronica. He has earned widespread acclaim from the likes of Pitchfork, Mojo, Uncut alongside radio support from Mary Anne Hobbs, Elizabeth Alker and Hannah Peel. His new album ‘The Exit Diaries’ features two movements: side one, ‘Light Variations’, is inspired by “Sunday tunes” - a warm, slow-unfolding soundtrack of soul, Alice Coltrane–esque textures and gentle synths, elevated by the fluid drumming of Leo Taylor (The Invisible, Floating Points, Hot Chip). Side two, The Stone Tape, opens with the sweeping ‘When Devils Become Gods’, before drifting through the ambient landscapes of ‘Quarries’ and the cinematic, emotionally rich compositions ‘The Stone Cutter’s Dilemma’, ‘Land (iii)’ and ‘Closer’. Throughout, Barrott demonstrates a rare ability to transport listeners into deeply atmospheric, meditative spaces, delivering a deeply immersive and quietly profound addition to his catalogue.

‘Confession' is an album of quiet upheaval. An album about closeness that arrives late and unexpectedly. About stability rubbing up against desire. About the way friendship can suddenly tilt into something charged — and how that charge unsettles everything around it. Where earlier work often observed from a distance, Confession turns inward. The voice is closer, warmer, less shielded. “This wasn’t the album I intended to make,” says Carla dal Forno. “I originally wanted something veiled and abstract, but I realised I couldn’t hide behind abstraction — the songs only worked when I leaned into emotional truth.”

This is dal Forno’s fourth LP, written and recorded over several years in a small country town, in a studio housed inside a partially abandoned hospital. Long corridors, humming lights, emptied rooms — a place built for care and waiting, now quiet enough for thoughts to echo. That stillness shapes the record: intimate, watchful, unadorned. “I live in a small country town that offers a stillness my life didn’t previously have,” she explains. “In that quiet, feelings I might’ve ignored in a busy city grew loud.” Dal Forno sings plainly and conversationally, with an emotional precision that sharpens the everyday into something quietly unsettling.

The album moves through paired states: going out and staying in, wanting and withholding, devotion and distraction. Domestic calm set against private unrest. A long-held relationship offers safety and routine, while a newer connection opens emotional fault lines — longing, jealousy, fantasy, self-exposure. “At the heart of the album is a friendship that became emotionally charged in an unexpected way,” dal Forno says. “That shift brought daydreaming, jealousy, tenderness, confusion, self-awareness — and eventually acceptance.”

The drama here is internal, incremental, lived. Musically, Confession feels lighter on its feet than its subject matter suggests. Melodic basslines anchor the songs while guitars, harmonies, and gently off-kilter rhythms move around them. There’s a looseness, even a playfulness — “like the sensation of tension lifting once you finally admit something to yourself,” as dal Forno puts it. The album traces a subtle arc: attraction blooming where it shouldn’t; obsession quietly taking hold; fantasy overtaking reality; clarity arriving slowly, sometimes painfully. Visually and emotionally, Confession returns to modest spaces: backyards, beds, night streets, overgrown paths. “The record exists in that contrast,” dal Forno reflects. “Peaceful surroundings, unsettled interior.”

Like all of dal Forno’s work, Confession resists clean conclusions. It doesn’t moralise desire or romanticise restraint. Instead, it lingers in the in-between — where love is stable but not total, where yearning teaches as much as it hurts, where solitude becomes a form of care. Plain-spoken but emotionally complex. Rooted and restless. Held together by bass, breath, routine, weather. An album about admitting what you feel —and living with what that admission changes.

With their fourth full-length album Signal Fire, GENGHIS TRON awaken us from the post-apocalyptic daydreams of their previous work with a violent—and most welcome—shove. This time, the distant-future reveries we first heard on Board Up The House give way to an unsettling awareness of the present we’re actually living, as our circumstances grow too pressing to try and escape. “Signal Fire envisions a Kojima-esque dystopia of endless proxy warfare,” says vocalist and lyricist Tony Wolski (The Armed), “where the deluge of available information has outmoded the human ability to parse it. A world where those amoral, shameless and cunning enough can literally reshape reality at their whim through sheer insistence." Having roared onto the scene in 2004 with a uniquely demented blend of extreme metal, synthesizer textures, and drum-machine madness, GENGHIS TRON are no strangers to making a forceful impression. But Signal Fire marks the first time bandleaders Michael Sochynsky and Hamilton Jordan –joined again by Wolski and Nick Yacyshyn (SUMAC) on drums, plus newcomer Kenny Szymanski (The Armed) on bass–has captured this level of urgency with such visceral precision. “This album is very much rooted in the now,” confirms Jordan. Album opener “I Am All” sets the table with a chest-throbbing synth pulse as Wolski declares “I’m on a tear, I’m on a tear,” over swirling industrial rhythms and creeping synthlines. “Nothing Blooms in the Hollow” grafts desert-rock swagger onto interlocking layers of dizzying riffs and chants before Wolski steers the band into full-on sonic burnout, like a spaceship careening into the sun. “Born Prey” navigates deftly through Genghis Tron’s classic sonic touchpoints: furious blastbeats, electronic breaks, haunting vocal earworms, and a towering synth-pop crescendo. Meditative interludes like “Like Fotocrom” and “Without Form” deliver shimmering, ominous beauty. And “New Gods” invokes Rabies-era Skinny Puppy to bring the album to a bludgeoning, anthemic finale, as Wolski screams on repeat: “New gods to bleed me out / No new peace / Bleed me out / I love it.” Twenty years into their career, having proven their ability to forge common ground between Ministry and Aphex Twin, between Brutal Truth and Boards Of Canada, between Cluster and Converge, ugly-beautiful new genre hybrids from GENGHIS TRON no longer come as a surprise. What’s remarkable, however, is how Sochynsky and Jordan have taken a project that started in 2004 as a dorm-room genre-pastiche experiment —”a chaotic, wild amalgamation of all our favorite stuff, literally slammed together,” says Jordan—and refined their songwriting craft to deliver a sound that is unmistakably their own.

Every so often in music, we come across voices that achieve a certain timelessness, so naturally do they encapsulate both past and present. Laure Briard is one of these voices, retro in form but contemporary at heart, spanning a career rich in aesthetic twists and turns, never without her signature magic, a special kind of eternal filter. Her first album, Révélation (2015), reveals her yé-yé influences, a testament to her love for ‘60s French pop music. Her second studio album, Sur la piste de danse (2016), follows in this vein and finds Laure accompanied as always by her long-time bandmates who share an affinity for warm, catchy arrangements that never lose their appeal. Her tour of Brazil marks a turning point in her career, introducing her to the local indie scene and thus launching her collaboration with the band Boogarins, as well as inspiring the release of multiple EPs composed and performed in Portuguese. Today, her music is embellished by touches of bossa nova and a folk sensibility, boasting increasingly intricate arrangements, as exemplified by her 2019 release, Un peu plus d'amour s'il vous plaît. Several years later, the Californian desert captures the musician’s imagination with Ne pas trop rester bleue, a poignant musical journey inspired by the rich history of Western legends and the role they play in shaping our collective consciousness.

In Voyage Mental, Laure Briard draws upon an inner energy unearthed during a new stage in her life, where the thrill of spontaneous adventure is not accessible in quite the same way. The result is a collection of sophisticated, introspective songs, narrating a young mother’s quest for balance in the face of routine. The album, nostalgic but always tethered to the present moment, is also the fruit of her collaboration with Gaëtan Nonchalant, a talented musician known for coaxing poetry out of the mundane. The two of them co-wrote and recorded five tracks at Studio Nocturne, accompanied by her long-time sidekick Pieuvre, aka Vincent Guyot, Léo Blomov, Pierre-Louis Vizioz, and Hedi Bensalem. The gentle pop opener “Rocking Chair” sways steadily to the rhythm of dynamic drums, followed by “Train,” a ballad that extends an invitation to set sail and daydream alone. The folk escapade continues with “Golden Sun,” a duet featuring the 1960s cult American musician F.J. McMahon, who Laure contacted via the internet on a whim. “Golden Sun” is an unlikely encounter between two generations and two cultures, giving new life to an old forgotten demo on the other side of the Atlantic. And while Laure sings of wide open spaces, cowboys, and sunsets sinking into the sea, we feel the city surrounding her in “Miroir,” a song composed by Hedi Bensalem that laments the suffocation of living in a crowded metropolis where the sky is a distant gray smudge. This pressing need for air, this search for rest and total disconnection, is one of the album's central themes. It may also explain the ever-present sense of nostalgia that pervades the songs, a welcome respite in our current era of doomscrolling and darkness. Along the way, Laure soothes us with melancholy guitar, delivers poetry set to scattered piano notes, and takes us by the hand during lively, uptempo passages. We climb onto her wings, never straying too far from the ground, soaring joyfully above her moods.

Creator of Le Châ, a chimera emerging from the margins, Lutèce Lockness builds worlds where dreamlike imagery and satire intertwine, inviting us to embrace the bizarre, the strange, and the intimate. With her debut album Le Châ, she crafts powerful, incantatory soundscapes. Her compositions blend psychedelic tones, medieval timbres, drifting drones, bouzouki improvisations, and digital textures, enriched through collaborations with Christoph Fink, Maxime Denuc, and Jean Rondeau.


Inspired by David Lynch, Jim Jarmusch, and Hayao Miyazaki, her practice shapes sonic material like exquisite corpses. Across disciplines, Lutèce Lockness explores new territories through projects such as the collective book Bande organisée (Seuil), born from the transport of a stone book across France during lockdown, and as part of the feminist punk group Forsissies. On stage, she has opened for Bonnie Banane at the Olympia and Flavien Berger at Le Lieu Unique in Nantes, and is also preparing for the opening of Kanal Pompidou in Brussels - continuing a trajectory where music, performance, and visual experimentation converge to create spaces of freedom.

‘Warm Waves’ first appeared in 2020, ten years after Turn On The Sunlight’s debut self-titled album was first released in Japan. During that decade, Turn On The Sunlight’s Jesse Peterson and Mia Doi Todd welcomed their first child and co-founded a music venue in Los Angeles. When performance spaces were required to close at the start of the pandemic, Jesse’s focus shifted back towards home recording. Since ‘Warm Waves,’ five more Turn On The Sunlight albums have followed (including ‘Drives To The Beach,’ also on Tokonoma Records), all of which can be seen as an expansion of the musical direction set forth on this album.

The group heard on ‘Warm Waves’ consists of musicians who Mia and Jesse were regularly playing with at the time - Sam Gendel, Mitchell Brown, Andres Renteria & Gabe Noel - joined by Laraaji, Arji & Luis Pérez Ixoneztli, making their first recordings together.

The group’s blended signal was routed through Mitchell’s tape loops and modular synthesizer, which contributed to the unique communal sound of these recordings. Further extending this approach, Carlos Niño then reprocessed and reimagined ‘Passing Rain’ with Jamael Dean for his Elemental Beat Mix.

Originally released one week into the official lockdown period, some listeners found the warm, collective sound well-suited for the time of introspection and shifting priorities that followed. Now, in 2026, ‘Warm Waves’ returns on vinyl to once again encourage peaceful contemplation and open-hearted togetherness, in echo of the spirit of its creation.

Credits
Sam Gendel: Saxophone & Electronics on A1, A2, A3, B1, B2, B3
Laraaji: Voice & Zither on A3
Luis Pérez Ixoneztli: Bird Sounds on A1, Aerophones & Water Drums on B2
Mia Doi Todd: Voice on A1, A2, B2, B3; Piano on A3
Jesse Peterson: Guitar, Bass, Organ & Bird Sounds on A1; Organ on A2; Guitar & Bass on A3; Wooden Whistles, Guitar, Ukulele & Piano on B1; Ice Breaking on B3
Andres Renteria: Percussion on A1, A2, B1, B2, B3; Marimba & Percussion on A3
Mitchell Brown: Synthesizers & Magnetic Tape on A1, A2, A3, B2, B4
Gabe Noel: Bass on A2, A3, B1
Arji: Bells & Shells on A3
Carlos Niño: Production / Remix on B4
Jamael Dean: Additional Keyboards on B4

Produced, mixed & recorded by Jesse Peterson
Except B4, produced by Carlos Niño

‘Warm Waves’ first appeared in 2020, ten years after Turn On The Sunlight’s debut self-titled album was first released in Japan. During that decade, Turn On The Sunlight’s Jesse Peterson and Mia Doi Todd welcomed their first child and co-founded a music venue in Los Angeles. When performance spaces were required to close at the start of the pandemic, Jesse’s focus shifted back towards home recording. Since ‘Warm Waves,’ five more Turn On The Sunlight albums have followed (including ‘Drives To The Beach,’ also on Tokonoma Records), all of which can be seen as an expansion of the musical direction set forth on this album.

The group heard on ‘Warm Waves’ consists of musicians who Mia and Jesse were regularly playing with at the time - Sam Gendel, Mitchell Brown, Andres Renteria & Gabe Noel - joined by Laraaji, Arji & Luis Pérez Ixoneztli, making their first recordings together.

The group’s blended signal was routed through Mitchell’s tape loops and modular synthesizer, which contributed to the unique communal sound of these recordings. Further extending this approach, Carlos Niño then reprocessed and reimagined ‘Passing Rain’ with Jamael Dean for his Elemental Beat Mix.

Originally released one week into the official lockdown period, some listeners found the warm, collective sound well-suited for the time of introspection and shifting priorities that followed. Now, in 2026, ‘Warm Waves’ returns on vinyl to once again encourage peaceful contemplation and open-hearted togetherness, in echo of the spirit of its creation.

Credits
Sam Gendel: Saxophone & Electronics on A1, A2, A3, B1, B2, B3
Laraaji: Voice & Zither on A3
Luis Pérez Ixoneztli: Bird Sounds on A1, Aerophones & Water Drums on B2
Mia Doi Todd: Voice on A1, A2, B2, B3; Piano on A3
Jesse Peterson: Guitar, Bass, Organ & Bird Sounds on A1; Organ on A2; Guitar & Bass on A3; Wooden Whistles, Guitar, Ukulele & Piano on B1; Ice Breaking on B3
Andres Renteria: Percussion on A1, A2, B1, B2, B3; Marimba & Percussion on A3
Mitchell Brown: Synthesizers & Magnetic Tape on A1, A2, A3, B2, B4
Gabe Noel: Bass on A2, A3, B1
Arji: Bells & Shells on A3
Carlos Niño: Production / Remix on B4
Jamael Dean: Additional Keyboards on B4

Produced, mixed & recorded by Jesse Peterson
Except B4, produced by Carlos Niño

More than a decade into one of contemporary folk’s most quietly extraordinary careers, Alela Diane returns with Who's Keeping Time? The Portland songwriter’s seventh full-length came as the consequence of intuition, coincidence, and community. “I came to the end of a season last year,” Alela shares. “My daughters had grown a bit. I no longer had babies waking me in the middle of the night. I could hear myself think again.” More and more, those thoughts circled music.

The ultimate spark for Alela’s return to her music community came in April of last year with the death of her close friend and mentor Michael Hurley — folk legend and indispensable presence in the Portland music scene. Tracked live in the attic of her 1892 Victorian home, Who’s Keeping Time? was produced by Sam Weber (Madison Cunningham, Anna Tivel) and brought to life with staples from the local music orbit, including members of the bands Lucius and Blind Pilot and fellow singer-songwriters Anna Tivel and AC Sapphire. Over the years, Alela's lustrous discography has gathered major critical acclaim from the likes of Pitchfork, NPR Music, The Guardian, and plenty more. UNCUT counted her work in their ambitious “50 best singer-songwriter albums” of all time roundup—a canon comprising John Lennon, Joni Mitchell, Joan Baez, Paul Simon—with Consequence echoing that significance, declaring, “Hers is a timeless sound, that of a wayfaring troubadour, which only seems to come a few times a generation.” The Portland songwriter’s seventh full-length album, ‘Who’s Keeping Time?’ will be available on LP, CD and Digitally.

A guitar stands alone in Wedding, that metropolitan biotope in the western center of Berlin, caught in constant transformation between idyll and abyss. It lets its gaze wander, unsettled, almost shy, until it encounters a trumpet, with which it begins a cautious, then ever more intimate pas de deux.
Welcome to the second studio album by the Berlin-based band Conic Rose.
The album title Wedding is no coincidence. The story of Conic Rose is closely intertwined with the Berlin neighborhood that gives the record its name. The band's studio is located here, and both studio albums were created in the immediate vicinity of the small river Panke. This place settles over the music like a warming patina. The album feels as though the musicians and the neighborhood have invited one another to get to know each other. Not least because Wedding also means marriage. These marriages between a band and an urban landscape, a fading past and an emerging future, fear and hope - unfold in every single song on Wedding.
For their second album, Conic Rose repositioned themselves completely. Not in terms of personnel, but in the question of how to move forward. Conic Rose still sound like Conic Rose; their distinctive blend of cinematic jazz, ambient textures and guitar-led contemporary music remains untouched. And yet Wedding is, in many ways, the conceptual counterpart to their debut album Heller Tag. Where the debut documented movement within an urban setting, Wedding describes a state of being. Behind every piece seems to hover a large question mark.The group opens up its palette, allowing more influences, becoming at once more subtle, more profound, more filigree. It is less about definition than about the spaces in between. The most immediately striking difference from the previous album is the strong presence of the guitar. In Bertram Burkert's playing, many voices seem to converge. His yearning openness forms an equal counterpoint to Döben's trumpet and flugelhorn. Blurred and layered sounds occasionally make the ground seem to slip away beneath one's feet, while Döben's gliding lines create both closeness and distance. Together, the band express in a deeply subtle way a sense of life that corresponds precisely to our time. Something lurks in the background, omnipresent yet still unnameable. Conic Rose need no words to convey this feeling of uncertainty with remarkable eloquence. Perhaps this has something to do with Wedding being a place of confrontational introspection, but Conic Rose confront the escape from escape itself. With the recording and release of Wedding, this process is far from complete. The seed only begins to grow in the listener's ear. With every listen and the echo it leaves behind in memory, the studio bud continues to bloom. The album is merely the point of departure. What ultimately matters is what it sets in motion within those who encounter it.

Aspen is very proud to introduce ‘Non Sonett’ by the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble. This ensemble is a pioneering Norwegian chamber group whose work on ECM and Hubro has redefined the boundaries between jazz, contemporary composition and folk music.Across seven albums, the ensemble has developed a highly distinctive l anguage built on restraint, timbral nuance and collective interplay, placing it among the most influential European ensembles of the 21st century.

Bringing together some of the finest musicians in Norway, the ensemble draws on a rare collective sensitivity, where each player contributes to a deeply integrated and texturally rich sound world.

With Non Sonett, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble opens a new chapter that grows directly out of recent years of work in more solitary and cross-disciplinary contexts. In this period, Wallumrød has developed material for solo performance as well as for dance, allowing ideas to take shape in more fluid and exploratory formats. Some of this material now finds its way into the ensemble, where it is met by the possibilities offered by instrumentation, collective playing, and the distinct voices of the musicians. At the same time, older pieces—originating in entirely different settings— re-emerge here in new forms, reshaped by the ensemble context.

A defining aspect of Non Sonett is the way many of the pieces function less as fully determined compositions and more as open frameworks: starting points, suggestions, or “springboards” for music. These structures invite response rather than prescribe outcome, relying on the ensemble’s inherent sensitivity and capacity to realize and transform the material in performance. The result is music that feels both precise and fluid, shaped in equal measure by composition and by the interpretative presence of the players.

Central to this album is a continued deepening of Wallumrød’s long-standing interest in ambiguity and in dissolving boundaries between different musical elements and expressive worlds. By placing contrasting materials and associations side by side—sometimes subtly, sometimes more overtly—the music opens up spaces where meanings remain fluid and interconnected. On Non Sonett, this approach is taken a step further, allowing these juxtapositions to play an even more active role in shaping the music’s character and flow.

This approach connects closely with the ensemble’s broader artistic trajectory. Over time, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble has developed a language that is immediately recognizable—marked by reduction, clarity and a deep attention to sonic detail. While each release has its own character, the underlying aesthetic remains consistent: a focus on the inner life of sound itself. Rather than foregrounding gesture or virtuosity, the music draws the listener toward the smallest elements, where meaning emerges gradually through texture, spacing and timbre.

The listening experience becomes one of concentration and proximity, where each sound carries weight, and the accumulation of detail forms a larger whole. References may be sensed—to early polyphonic music, Norwegian folk traditions, or more recent experimental practices—but these are absorbed into a singular musical language that resists categorization.

As with the ensemble’s recent work, Non Sonett also continues the integration of electronics as a fundamental part of the sound world. Each musician engages with electronic elements alongside their acoustic instruments, creating a layered and dynamic sonic environment. At times, this leads into extended, exploratory passages reminiscent of analogue musique concrète; at others, electronics operate almost imperceptibly, subtly altering and extending the acoustic textures in real time.

Aspen is very proud to introduce ‘Non Sonett’ by the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble. This ensemble is a pioneering Norwegian chamber group whose work on ECM and Hubro has redefined the boundaries between jazz, contemporary composition and folk music.Across seven albums, the ensemble has developed a highly distinctive l anguage built on restraint, timbral nuance and collective interplay, placing it among the most influential European ensembles of the 21st century.

Bringing together some of the finest musicians in Norway, the ensemble draws on a rare collective sensitivity, where each player contributes to a deeply integrated and texturally rich sound world.

With Non Sonett, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble opens a new chapter that grows directly out of recent years of work in more solitary and cross-disciplinary contexts. In this period, Wallumrød has developed material for solo performance as well as for dance, allowing ideas to take shape in more fluid and exploratory formats. Some of this material now finds its way into the ensemble, where it is met by the possibilities offered by instrumentation, collective playing, and the distinct voices of the musicians. At the same time, older pieces—originating in entirely different settings— re-emerge here in new forms, reshaped by the ensemble context.

A defining aspect of Non Sonett is the way many of the pieces function less as fully determined compositions and more as open frameworks: starting points, suggestions, or “springboards” for music. These structures invite response rather than prescribe outcome, relying on the ensemble’s inherent sensitivity and capacity to realize and transform the material in performance. The result is music that feels both precise and fluid, shaped in equal measure by composition and by the interpretative presence of the players.

Central to this album is a continued deepening of Wallumrød’s long-standing interest in ambiguity and in dissolving boundaries between different musical elements and expressive worlds. By placing contrasting materials and associations side by side—sometimes subtly, sometimes more overtly—the music opens up spaces where meanings remain fluid and interconnected. On Non Sonett, this approach is taken a step further, allowing these juxtapositions to play an even more active role in shaping the music’s character and flow.

This approach connects closely with the ensemble’s broader artistic trajectory. Over time, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble has developed a language that is immediately recognizable—marked by reduction, clarity and a deep attention to sonic detail. While each release has its own character, the underlying aesthetic remains consistent: a focus on the inner life of sound itself. Rather than foregrounding gesture or virtuosity, the music draws the listener toward the smallest elements, where meaning emerges gradually through texture, spacing and timbre.

The listening experience becomes one of concentration and proximity, where each sound carries weight, and the accumulation of detail forms a larger whole. References may be sensed—to early polyphonic music, Norwegian folk traditions, or more recent experimental practices—but these are absorbed into a singular musical language that resists categorization.

As with the ensemble’s recent work, Non Sonett also continues the integration of electronics as a fundamental part of the sound world. Each musician engages with electronic elements alongside their acoustic instruments, creating a layered and dynamic sonic environment. At times, this leads into extended, exploratory passages reminiscent of analogue musique concrète; at others, electronics operate almost imperceptibly, subtly altering and extending the acoustic textures in real time.

Cathartic avant-rock, literate DIY folk & experimental composition exploring displacement, love, climate change, belonging & the places we call home - RIYL Jim O’Rourke, Richard Youngs, This Heat, Richard Dawson, Flying Nun. ‘Real Home’ is the new album by the Manchester-born, London-based artist Kiran Leonard. His sixth album proper (not including innumerable tour-only CD-Rs and short-run cassettes), since his precocious debut in 2013, ‘Real Home’ finds Leonard invigorated by inspiration and experience, making passionate, literate, and mercurial music that explores displacement, love, memory, climate change, connections to home and more. Encompassing songs recorded after moving to South London, ‘Real Home’ reflects on ideas of belonging and domesticity through folkloric, stream-of-consciousness songwriting. Across nine tracks, Leonard traces lived impressions of the household and the city, expressing sentiments of dislocation, alienation and stasis, but contentment too. Infusing the avant-rock effervescence, terraced dynamics and visionary lyricism of his music with what he defines as a greater sense of openness, Leonard is as versatile, fervent and imaginative as ever on ‘Real Home’, yet his music is somehow more intimate, affecting, and acutely expressive. Shaped by dual considerations of simplicity and formalism, ‘Real Home’ is by turns beautiful, allusive, and ruminative, an album on which Leonard considers what his songs have resembled in the past and what they mean now. In recent years, Leonard has crafted eloquent chamber music inspired by the likes of James Joyce and Clarice Lispector (‘Derevaun Seraun’), responded to contemporary politics and communication breakdown in the digital age (‘Western Culture’), and compiled solo works and ensemble recordings for a longform ode to Jonas Mekas and to one of Leonard’s enduring themes; home (‘Trespass On Foot’). On ‘Real Home’, Leonard reiterates this abiding thematic focus yet ascends to new, different heights, in music of cathartic delicacy and dissonance where all the myriad dimensions of his work to date seem to crystallize. There are sinuous songs about struggle and defying the pace of city life through drift and diversion (‘Pass Between Houses’), stirring songs of intense feeling and crescendo, described as a form of speculative detective fiction (‘Theatre for Change’). There are touching solo piano ballads (the title track), symbolic contentions with carbon capture and climate change (‘Utopia of Bog’), modes of experimental minimalism (‘Void Attentive’), and other profuse feats of compositional range, embroidered with wild tendrils of narrative and lyrical depth. A record to pore over, and get lost in. Exemplifying the vast aesthetic scope of Leonard’s music, lead single ‘My Love, Let’s Take The Stage Tonight’ is inspired by country lodestar Hank Williams, Russian poetry and a late period love poem by William Carlos Williams. Yet for Leonard, the song signals a sense of accessible materiality, and is the product of a more linear approach to writing songs: “My imitation of the great Hank Williams, in spirit if not in substance…This is one of the best efforts on Real Home at a song-as-object. Looking at it now I realise I was trying to write a song that made itself known as a song to the listener, and I wonder whether that’s crucial if you want a song to transcend its context. And that this is either accomplished through a total openness – by being inviting, by laying the tricks of the song out plain to see, as Williams and his many ghostwriters did so well – or by adopting a knowing aloofness, positioning oneself against the listener but letting it be known that that’s what it’s doing. In this song I try both, but mostly the former: as in, I wanted to write a song where every line follows on from the next.” Imbuing the endlessly elaborate and inventive qualities of his music with a newfound streak of candid, clear-cut melodicism, Leonard has reached a special place in his artistry, on a record that feels familial, and expresses closeness. Assembled with affiliates including Lauren Auder, Otto Willberg, Jasper Llewellyn (caroline), Tom Hardwick-Allan (Shovel Dance Collective), Magda McLean (caroline, The Umlauts), Alex Mckenzie (caroline, Shovel Dance Collective), Isabelle Thorn (Dear Laika) & more, the recording process had a significant influence on the subject matter of ‘Real Home’, in sessions defined by close-knit camaraderie and artistic eccentricity: “The theme of the home obviously recurs throughout the record; the album was mostly recorded in domestic spaces with friends, and the name of the album is Real Home. I like the qualifier ‘real’, like you’re getting past the cloak of the word and towards the thing-itself…also nearly all the percussion in this record was recorded on items from my dad’s shed (jam jars, sandpaper, blocks of wood, etc). Real home record!” ‘Real Home’, like anything by Kiran Leonard, is a record of dazzling multiplicity. Yet it’s a companionable prospect with a central premise; a collection of songs where listeners old and new can find a home. An album led by a scene; of Leonard standing at the threshold, ready to welcome you inside. “Exceptional songs that linger” - The Guardian // “An autodidact of amazing talent & energy” – Pitchfork // “A ridiculous amount of talent…confrontational, celebratory, provocative or perverse – he manages all of these emotions & more” - The Quietus /

»Music for Shared Rooms« is B. Fleischmann’s eleventh solo album and his first since 2018. It is also not an album, or at least not in the conventional sense of the word. These 16 instrumental pieces provide a kaleidoscopic glimpse of a forward-thinking musician at home in many different musical worlds, including experimental and abstract music, pop and more classically-minded compositional forms. These pieces were culled from an archive of roughly 600 compositions for theatre pieces and films written throughout the past twelve years. The Österreichischer Filmpreis-awarded composer, however, aimed for more than simply documenting his extensive work in and with different media. To do so, he edited and re-mixed the individual recordings for this release, taking them out of their contexts and reworking them for an audience who can experience them in a different setting. »Music for Shared Rooms« makes it possible for its listeners to engage with the sounds and to fill the spaces they open up with their own imagination.

Roughly speaking, music for theatre or film can serve two functions: it either takes the lead, or underscores what is happening on stage or screen. The marvelous thing about these pieces is that they manage to do both. Fleischmann’s work as a prolific producer has always drawn on contrasts, at times combining pop sentiment with rigid experimentation, the seemingly naive with the intricate and complex. This approach also marks the tracks collected here: bringing together acoustic elements and electronic sounds, at times working with conventional structures but always de- and re-contextualising them, Fleischmann constructs a vivid dramaturgy out of discrete singular compositions, letting them interact across the record.

Take, for example, the opener »Träumerei« and the following »Brenne«: after the soothing acoustic sounds of the former, the latter quickly picks up speed with hard-hitting drum machine rhythms. It’s a stark contrast sonically and stylistically, however both tracks are tied together by a certain harmonic sensibility. This sort of dramaturgical interconnectedness of varied musical materials is the thread that runs through »Music for Shared Rooms«. A droney piece for string instruments like »Sehnsucht« is followed by a trip-hop beat, before »Schock« lives up to its title with skittering beats and piercing high frequencies. The differences between the pieces may be striking, but the progression from one to the other is subtle. It goes on like this through different moods and tempos. There’s soothing-yet-eerie piano pieces like the »Für Elise«-inspired »Der Lärmkrieg«, gentle house grooves, joyful synthesizer excursions and, finally, »Die Erde ist mir fremd geworden«, a collage of abstract textures and concrete sounds.

All these pieces create distinct situations through the juxtaposition of diverse musical elements, but are also bound together by a single vision. Writing music for theatre pieces or film requires a composer and his pieces to engage with people and their movements in space, which is exactly what Fleischmann offers on this record. He breaks down the fourth wall and invites his listeners into his world, a wide-ranging musical panorama. »Music for Shared Rooms« is indeed not an album in the conventional sense of the word, but more like a photo album in which each page opens up a new space to get lost in; recreates different scenes in which you can immerse yourself. These are shared rooms indeed.

First time reissue of JP free jazz rarity, pre-Seikatsu Kōjyō Iinkai group.

The single album self-released by the quartet Shūdan Sokai in 1977 is one of the most vital documents of mid-seventies Japanese free jazz, documenting Tokyo’s free scene at the precise moment when it began to shift to a handful of tiny venues on the western fringes of the city. In Free Jazz in Japan, Teruto Soejima identifies the extant venue Aketa no Mise in Nishi-Ogikubo as the pioneer of this decamping from the centre: a cramped basement beneath a rice shop, seating just 20 people. Musician-run, operated on a shoestring, these spaces offered a vital site for community, creativity, and a small measure of financial independence — “even though it was in a basement, in spirit it was a loft.”

Among the most active of the new venues was Alone in Hachiōji, nearly an hour from Shinjuku, in a district shaped by universities, lower rents, and a thriving counterculture. Originally opened in 1973 as a jazu kissa, Alone was unusually spacious and equipped with a stage, grand piano, and drum kit. Around 1974, Junji Mori and Yasuhiro Sakakibara began working there, booking free jazz players on weekends and establishing the venue as a crucial hub. Mori recalls early appearances by figures including Kazutoki Umezu, Toshinori Kondo, and others who would define the scene.

In early 1976, Umezu and pianist Yoriyuki Harada — recently returned from New York’s loft jazz environment, where they had played with musicians such as David Murray and William Parker — formed Shūdan Sokai with Mori and drummer Takashi Kikuchi. The name, meaning “mass evacuation,” pointed to their self-chosen exile in Hachiōji. With Alone as their home base, the quartet developed a music characterized by an infectious sense of enjoyment and a willingness to integrate free jazz with elements of song structure. Harada switched between piano and bass; the group experimented with rap-like vocal pieces, jabbering nursery rhymes over bass rhythms.

They returned to Alone on December 24 to record Sono zen’ya (Eve), releasing it on their own Des Chonboo Records, partially funded by advertisements from local businesses printed on the rear cover. The closing “Ballad for Seshiru,” dedicated to Harada’s newborn son, unfolds over a delicate piano melody that moves into emphatic chords as intertwining alto lines rise and spiral.

Alone closed in September 1977, and Shūdan Sokai soon dissolved, later morphing into the expanded Seikatsu Kōjyō Iinkai Orchestra. What remains is a recording rooted in a specific place and moment: a fiercely independent scene sustained by small rooms, close listening, and collective commitment.

Like its cover, Nicolas Remondino's Hìeratico plays in the rich shades of crepuscular spaces. A night-tuned, percussion led album where prepared drums are accompanied by flickers of spoken word, acoustic instruments and muted electronics,

The title translates to 'hieratic', for Remondino a "black and gold" term laden with dualities and complex connotations. A sense of teetering between sparkling light and richly coloured darkness imbues the music, the compositions simulating a sense of heightened acuity as they convey us through a spooky elemental soundworld. The opening title track begins with a metallic shimmer, a drum skin activated in a way that sounds like it's being smelted. A cushioned rhythm enters, a smothered timbre akin to hearing something lurking around the garden. On "litho non-danse", percussion cracks like branches and dried foliage under foot.

Remondino recorded initial outlines for the pieces at Giuseppe Ielasi's studio in Milan, before fleshing out these ideas with his own additional instrumentation and contributions from a globe-spanning network of collaborators. On "blue hymne", chiming percussion equal parts jubilant and sinister heralds spoken word from Limpe Fuchs. "Tombal" opens with Massimo Silverio whispering in the Carnic dialect, a minority language from the Carnic Alps. Around, Marco Baldini, Pierre Bastien and Remondino construct a somber soundscape that cranks and sighs in the crevices.

Hìeratico is an album of hybrids. Diverse voices, accents and dialects deliver its lyrics, the instrumentation underpinning it crosses idioms. The drumkit at its core is modified to amplify its resonant tones and harmonics. Inspired by natural substances and phenomena: stone, wood, wind, earth, metal, grass, rain, clouds and bark, Remondino explores how percussion could evoke their materiality, treating drums as lucid textural instruments as much as rhythmic timekeepers. It gives the album a finely shaded depth and clarity as it conjures the vibrancies that reside in darkened corners. Hìeratico dwells in a sensation that crosses borders, the speckles of light in the oblique night sky. Listening is an aural equivalent to stepping into a pitch black forest and waiting for your eyes to adjust, a lightless void turning into a spectacular tableau of shadows and glows. Daryl Worthington

Dialog strips back the vocal cuts from their first two DOT releases to their essential rhythmic foundations, offering a fresh perspective on their dubwise electronics. Highlighting the production architecture and opening up new spaces for the music to unfold

Dialog strips back the vocal cuts from their first two DOT releases to their essential rhythmic foundations, offering a fresh perspective on their dubwise electronics. Highlighting the production architecture and opening up new spaces for the music to unfold

Geoglyph is the new duo project by Alohn and Khey Mysterio, a convergence of two deeply singular practices into a single subterranean signal. Their debut album arrives as the eighth reference on Organic Signs, not as a collection of tracks but as a carved artifact: six inscriptions pressed into vinyl, mapping a sonic territory where time, rhythm and texture are no longer linear, but layered like geological memory.

Through Geoglyph, Alohn and Khey Mysterio convey a message from below, or beyond. A pulse engraved from forgotten times in the basement of reality, reactivated by abyssal basses, vibrating layers and fractured textures. Exhumed from the subterranean strata where psychedelic dub, mineral techno and fractal dubstep fuse into raw energy, their music becomes a point of contact: every beat, every silence, every oscillation acting as a coordinate toward another perception. What unfolds is not simply sound design, but an invocation, rhythms as sigils, timbre as gnosis, signals that seem to arrive already charged with intention.

Across the album, Alohn’s guitar notes fall like cascades through the mix, dissolving at times into controlled feedback and crystallizing into melodic fragments that hover between tension and release. These organic gestures are interwoven with Khey Mysterio’s dense low-end architectures and rhythmic frameworks, creating a constantly shifting terrain: from weightless transmissions and ritualistic voices to moments of overwhelming propulsion where the music suddenly breaks open with tectonic force. The record moves fluidly between meditative suspension and explosive motion, never settling into a single state for long.

A strong undercurrent of what has come to be known as “druidstep” runs through the album, a term coined within the 95 Open Tabs universe to describe a form of dubstep untethered from genre convention, rooted instead in bass as ritual, in groove as invocation. Here it meets dub-techno pulse, psychedelic echoes and high-velocity 4×4 pressure, drawing subtle influence from underground bass cultures without ever becoming referential. The result is a body of work that feels both ancient and forward-leaning, cyclical rather than linear: a living geoglyph that reveals different meanings depending on how (and where) it is read.

As the final movement accelerates into its closing phase, the album releases its energy outward, with frequencies stretched toward their limits, leaving behind the trace of a completed ceremony. In this sense, Geoglyph’s debut stands as a defining moment within the Organic Signs continuum: a record that unfolds rather than explains, offering an experience to be entered, absorbed, and carried. With this release, the label continues to explore new sonic spaces, evolving and expanding while giving deeper meaning to its own essence. A message from beneath the surface, waiting for those willing to tune in.

Más de este género

Born in Douarnenez, at the far edge of Brittany (France), Komodor has quickly established itself as one of the most vibrant names in the French rock landscape. Their high-energy rock, fueled by fuzz, sweat, and vocal harmonies woven in the spirit of MC5 and T. Rex, immediately drew attention: Rolling Stone, Rock & Folk, Libération and Rock Hard Germany all praised the fiery impact of their debut album Nasty Habits (which sold over 2,000 vinyl copies). Since then, the quintet has mostly lived on the road: a long European tour, followed by the larger-than-life saga of Komodrag & The Mounodor, carrying them to stages such as Hellfest, Les Vieilles Charrues, and the Francofolies de La Rochelle, among many others.

Their second album, Time & Space, reveals a band in full metamorphosis. Without abandoning the explosive force that defines them, Komodor widens its scope: volcanic riffs, more sinuous grooves, mist-laden harmonies, psychedelic flashes… The energy is still wild, but more inhabited, more liberated, almost ceremonial at times. The record opens with two telling bursts: Bliss & Joy, a libertarian charge with the feel of a manifesto, and Soul Tricker, a rock incantation where trance overtakes sheer electric assault. Two sides of the same coin, pulled taut between urgency and enchantment.

On stage, Komodor remains a true shockwave, forged across European festivals (Freak Valley, Motocultor, Fête du Bruit, and more) and now awaited at the legendary Desertfest London. Their music feels made for such spaces: a visceral, flesh-and-amp kind of rock, drawing from the seventies’ heritage to speak even more vividly to the present. A band moving forward at full volume, without nostalgia or calculation, carried by a simple conviction: as long as the amps are hot, rock can still burn.

In short: Komodor is the band of friends from Douarnenez bringing pencil-and-paper rock into the streaming age while preserving its analog soul (with the album mastered at the legendary Miraval Studios), the smell of warm tubes, the grain of vinyl. With this second album, they hit harder, truer, and more vividly than ever.
Time & Space stands as a “must-have French rock record”, a tangible piece worth cherishing in any collection.

Born in Douarnenez, at the far edge of Brittany (France), Komodor has quickly established itself as one of the most vibrant names in the French rock landscape. Their high-energy rock, fueled by fuzz, sweat, and vocal harmonies woven in the spirit of MC5 and T. Rex, immediately drew attention: Rolling Stone, Rock & Folk, Libération and Rock Hard Germany all praised the fiery impact of their debut album Nasty Habits (which sold over 2,000 vinyl copies). Since then, the quintet has mostly lived on the road: a long European tour, followed by the larger-than-life saga of Komodrag & The Mounodor, carrying them to stages such as Hellfest, Les Vieilles Charrues, and the Francofolies de La Rochelle, among many others.

Their second album, Time & Space, reveals a band in full metamorphosis. Without abandoning the explosive force that defines them, Komodor widens its scope: volcanic riffs, more sinuous grooves, mist-laden harmonies, psychedelic flashes… The energy is still wild, but more inhabited, more liberated, almost ceremonial at times. The record opens with two telling bursts: Bliss & Joy, a libertarian charge with the feel of a manifesto, and Soul Tricker, a rock incantation where trance overtakes sheer electric assault. Two sides of the same coin, pulled taut between urgency and enchantment.

On stage, Komodor remains a true shockwave, forged across European festivals (Freak Valley, Motocultor, Fête du Bruit, and more) and now awaited at the legendary Desertfest London. Their music feels made for such spaces: a visceral, flesh-and-amp kind of rock, drawing from the seventies’ heritage to speak even more vividly to the present. A band moving forward at full volume, without nostalgia or calculation, carried by a simple conviction: as long as the amps are hot, rock can still burn.

In short: Komodor is the band of friends from Douarnenez bringing pencil-and-paper rock into the streaming age while preserving its analog soul (with the album mastered at the legendary Miraval Studios), the smell of warm tubes, the grain of vinyl. With this second album, they hit harder, truer, and more vividly than ever.
Time & Space stands as a “must-have French rock record”, a tangible piece worth cherishing in any collection.

Period Music is a research process involving Susanna Gonzo, Merma Suelo, Tuce Alba, Elizabeth
Gallon Droste, Agnese Menguzzato, and Farah Hazim. The six artists aim to attune to the different
temporalities experienced through our bodies, drawing from multiple meanings of period – from the
menstrual cycle to musical repetitions and astronomical revolutions.

r'tu
A central meaning of the Sanskrit word for ritual, r'tu, is menstruation, the original ritual. The root of
r'tu is in arithmetic and rhythm/.

Period Music has been staying with essential matters on how we listen to time and rhythms in our
bodies and in the world. Questioning the tempo of everyday life in an accelerated system like that of
modern society, the group has opened up co-creation spaces to listen to embodied memories.
Through dialogue, improvisation and jam sessions, the six artists attuned to e ach other’s processes,
composing music, word scores and drawings – ultimately sounding together.

This work embodies other notions of community through archetypes, embracing the impermanence
that reveals the countless rhythms of life. Period Music speaks of friendship and connection, and
invites you to take on a journey of interconnectedness between our rhythms and the broader social
structures influencing our lives.

The project emerges from conversations that began in Berlin in the fall of 2023, including a one-week
residency at Atelier Josepha in Ahrenshoop by the Baltic Sea in April 2024. The first physical iteration
of this project will consist of a book and a vinyl. The album features looping improvisational compositions encoded with messages about multiple temporalities. The accompanying book gathers poetic memories, letters, photographs, symbols, and drawings that emerged during the process

Franky Wah returns to Crosstown Rebels and reunites with Kuuda on ‘Light Years’.
Dropping on 13th February 2026, the two-tracker sees the acclaimed UK producer continue his collaborative journey alongside the impressive Brighton-based collective for both his and their second appearance on Damian Lazarus’ revered imprint.

Having made a splash with his impactful label debut last summer, Franky Wah returns to Damian Lazarus’ Crosstown Rebels imprint with ‘Light Years’, a two-track EP that explores emotion and movement with measured confidence. The release sees the Yorkshire-born producer further embed himself within the Crosstown universe, delivering a project built on patience, progression, and feeling, where every moment earns its weight.

The EP opens with the title track, a wide-screen, hypnotic solo burner that balances uplifting melodic energy with weighty, driving grooves. Built for long moments on the floor, the track unfolds, allowing atmosphere and tension to do the heavy lifting while maintaining a clear sense of momentum throughout. On the flip, Franky reunites with longtime collaborators, producer-songwriter-vocalist trio Kuuda, for their second outing alongside him on Crosstown Rebels with ‘House In My Veins’. Continuing a partnership rooted in shared musical language and emotional depth, the Brighton-based trio is central to the track, bringing drive, earworm vocals, and a distinctive identity, woven seamlessly throughout Franky’s cinematic production - grounding expansive moments with human connection.

Following heavy support from Pete Tong on his Crosstown Rebels debut, and a recent invitation to host Tong’s flagship BBC R1 show at the start of 2026, Franky continues to assert himself as an artist equally at home in club culture’s most intimate spaces and its widest-reaching platforms. Meanwhile, Kuuda continue their impressive start to 2026, hot on the heels of their recent collaboration with Hot Since 82 on Bedrock. This latest partnership delivers a focused yet expressive statement, music designed to breathe, to move, and to resonate long after the lights come up.

Zürich-based musician Angelo Repetto returns with his new album Between Worlds: Interference, released on Subject to Restrictions Discs. The record is the result of a unique collaboration with Argentinian visual artist Clara Grabowiecki, extending their immersive live project Between Worlds into a sonic and tangible form.

«This album is a continuation of the deep conversations Clara and I had about concepts of perception that led us to question silence, time, transcendence, and the future», says Repetto. «It’s not about finding answers, but about opening spaces where sound, image, and emotion can flow freely.»

Between Worlds: Interference oscillates between hypnotic rhythms, kraut-inspired synth layers, and psychedelic atmospheres – hallmarks of Repetto’s style that listeners may recognize from earlier releases such as Sundown Explosion and Kamiokande. At its core it is an invitation into an open dimension where disciplines, experiences, and realities dissolve into one another. It is both a deeply personal statement and a collective journey into new perceptual spaces.

2026 Repress

As electronic music pioneers and co-founders of Soma Records, Slam have continually shaped the landscape of underground techno. With their forthcoming album, Dark Channel, they present a raw, club-focused record that stands as both a reflection of our turbulent times and a celebration of the dance floor's enduring power.

In 2025, the world feels fractured, dominated by division and extremism. Amidst this chaos, the dance floor remains a rare sanctuary-one of unity, self-expression, and collective escape. Dark Channel is an unapologetic tribute to this sacred space, where rhythm dissolves barriers and music serves as a universal language. Through relentless energy, deep textures, and hypnotic grooves, the album embodies the essence of club culture: a place where we reconnect with ourselves and each other.

Slam make no mistake when it comes to the sonic tone of the album as it opens with the tribalistic Use It, Lose It before the discordant sounds of title track Dark Channel hints at the relentless nature of things to come. The intensity continues with Parametric Factor & Glide - both pushing a pulsating, synth driven trip; the later leading on a more traditional Slam percussive workout. The dance floor warping Morganatic pursues dark territory while Infinit Spaces adds trippy FX to an already animated synth hook. The beautifully crafted Kuture Version delves into a more immersive sound as more direct, chord driven elements take the lead. The pace quickens yet again with Ghost Dancer highlighting sub tones whilst still crafting ominous intonations with its modulating FX. Approaching the conclusion, the ferocious Beat On The Drum delivers a lesson in rhythm and energy before the contorted Irregular Object completes proceedings in a suitably hypnotic fashion.

Mastered By Conor Dalton @ Glowcast Mastering

NA ZAROT opens a portal into a universe of darkness, chaos and spiritual upheaval. The sound is raw, jagged like cold iron and radically unpolished-an antithesis to any romanticized or völkisch fantasy, firmly rooted in an anti-fascist stance. NA ZAROT shapes lo-fi black metal infused with traces of punk as a counter-space: a place where archaic directness meets a dense, spiritually charged atmosphere that unfolds a hypnotic pull even within the noise. The production remains deliberately fragmented and unrefined-a kind of emotional excavation protocol that exposes the core of the genre without glorifying it. Lyrically, the tracks revolve around death, decay, isolation, spiritual disintegration and those threshold moments in which the abyss releases a strangely unsettling calm. Musically, sawing guitars, brutal screams, driving drums, sickly strings, ghostly voices and a distorted piano collide. Above it all lies a weight of leaden sorrow, until sudden ruptures drag the pieces without warning into even deeper darkness. Side A presents the tracks from the On Death and Dying tape, where literary spaces intersect with personal experiences. The lyrics brush against literary references such as Mallarmé's death poems, the legend of La Llorona or motifs from Romain Gary's The Dance of Genghis Cohn.Side B offers new, previously unreleased material titled "Alpensterben." The four songs preserve those unheard screams that would otherwise vanish into nothingness. Alpensterben becomes a blood-marked journey through the final hours of an existence scraping against its own ending-an intense, haunting echo of lived despair. Comes with printed 28page 10" magazine!

NA ZAROT opens a portal into a universe of darkness, chaos and spiritual upheaval. The sound is raw, jagged like cold iron and radically unpolished-an antithesis to any romanticized or völkisch fantasy, firmly rooted in an anti-fascist stance. NA ZAROT shapes lo-fi black metal infused with traces of punk as a counter-space: a place where archaic directness meets a dense, spiritually charged atmosphere that unfolds a hypnotic pull even within the noise. The production remains deliberately fragmented and unrefined-a kind of emotional excavation protocol that exposes the core of the genre without glorifying it. Lyrically, the tracks revolve around death, decay, isolation, spiritual disintegration and those threshold moments in which the abyss releases a strangely unsettling calm. Musically, sawing guitars, brutal screams, driving drums, sickly strings, ghostly voices and a distorted piano collide. Above it all lies a weight of leaden sorrow, until sudden ruptures drag the pieces without warning into even deeper darkness. Side A presents the tracks from the On Death and Dying tape, where literary spaces intersect with personal experiences. The lyrics brush against literary references such as Mallarmé's death poems, the legend of La Llorona or motifs from Romain Gary's The Dance of Genghis Cohn.Side B offers new, previously unreleased material titled "Alpensterben." The four songs preserve those unheard screams that would otherwise vanish into nothingness. Alpensterben becomes a blood-marked journey through the final hours of an existence scraping against its own ending-an intense, haunting echo of lived despair. Comes with printed 28page 10" magazine!

For over six decades, Charlemagne Palestine (b. 1947, New York) has been a pioneering composer, performer, and multimedia artist, celebrated for his ecstatic sonic explorations and ritualistic, metaphysical performances. Emerging from the cross-disciplinary New York art scene of the 1960s and ’70s, he helped shape a heretical edge of minimalism alongside figures like Conrad, Riley, Niblock, and Glass. Trained as a Jewish cantor and later as the carillonneur at St. Thomas Church, Palestine cultivated a deep fascination with resonance and overtone—an obsession that evolved through his use of percussion, early synthesizers, and monumental piano works, influencing artists from John Cale to Nick Cave.

Animated by a spirit of ecstatic play and what he calls his »meschugge« (Yiddish for »crazy«) sensibility, Palestine’s universe blends the sacred and the absurd, filled with soft toys, ritual gestures, and immersive sound environments. Rejecting the »minimalist« label in favor of a maximalist, »spontanimalist« approach, he creates long-form, resonant performances that transform spaces into vibrating, living organisms—opening portals into the nature of time, sound, and devotion.

In the same vein, the aptly titled live record »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« – performed during the Sonic Acts Festival at Amsterdam’s Oude Kerk in 2025, and taking its title and cover art from a drawing realized by Palestine himself during the concert – adds to his opaque yet vibrant personal mythology and intimate transcendence, marking a return to the Staalplaat catalog after »Fffroggssichorddd« (2020) and »Music for Big Ears« (2001).

Beginning with a resonating bell and his falsetto overtone singing, then surrendering to the endless, wild soundscapes of tone-feeling and beat frequencies generated by the church’s organ, across 40+ minutes, single sound sources evolve into clusters, entangle fully with one another, and establish their own spatial existence and aural architectures. We witness the traces of something that can be described as a perpetual performance, a test for the ever-changing interaction between artist, instrument, space and, ultimately, us.

Since Palestine has always defined his execution as a form of anti-composition - of simply »being in the music« as if inhabiting a space - the true power of »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« lies in encapsulating a moment of Palestine’s practice in its most authentic, live dimension. Sound becomes at once subtle substance and strange telluric force, animating physical forms from some unknown channel beyond and within, accessible only through our sensorium. The point in this liminal temple of tone, timbre and frequency is not to learn anything but to simply enter. Palestine earns once again his self-given title of contemporary shaman by keeping this sonic portal open, allowing us to witness and make it last.

»I have always felt and heard and mixed the sounds in my world as liquids not as solids. Sonic liquids are material that is endlessly transformable. But I’m not crazy about people who go around defining stuff.«

Co-produced with Blaine Harrison of Mystery Jets, the album is a bold and moving leap forward, shaped by the wide-open spaces of Grace's adopted California and the intimate venues of his hometown of London. Moving to California at 21, Grace played his first shows in small coffee houses and clubs in Los Angeles and San Francisco. There he was introduced to the music of artists like Bon Iver and Ray Lamontagne who helped shape his early writing and the songs that would later appear on his 2022 debut album 'Alive In America' . Since returning home to London, his music has been championed by the likes of Clash, Under The Radar, Wonderland, Songwriting Magazine, Americana UK, Absolute Radio, BBC Introducing and Mahogany.

Ten years after her first release, electronic musician Mor Elian presents her debut album Solid Space. Showing her full artistic range, the LP drifts between dream-like listening states and experimental club spaces. Written in a transitional time, these compositions arrived in emotional, unfiltered bursts. Solid Space brings together ambient textures, early IDM structures, and experimental electronics, with distant, hazy vocals converging into a single, subconscious flow. It is released by adventurous electronic music label topo2 on November 28, 2025. The record is pressed on 180 grams of ICCS-certified bio-vinyl, housed in a heavy full-colour sleeve, and comes with a download-code to the full release. Mastering is done by Ike Zwanikken, mixing by Gramrcy, artwork courtesy of Kees de Klein, and poetry written by Eelco Couvreur. Additional production and mixing on track 7 by Carrier.
—

in the half-sleep: a voice
not anyone’s, just sound.
what it touches, it mirrors
learning to name itself.

a throat opens —
to hum through bone
to say nothing correctly.

we coexist as opposites
in our mother tongue, dreaming
the things we were never meant to touch.

there is a channel
between pulse and sentence —
a being moving through
the being that once answered to me.

to feel and not own the feeling,
each of us made visible
by the other.

Final LP of a productive year for Feral Child is an absolute cracker. The latest of a long line of superb full lengths from Stephen James Buckley's incendiary Polypores project. This one is arguably his most adventurous outing to date, the undeniably psychedelic “Hungry Vortex”. Four extended pieces exploring polyrhythmic fixations and cosmic jazz-prog freak-outs. Percussion-heavy opener ‘The Body Is The Spaceship’ is a fine example of the sort of seamless organic growth we tend to see in Polypores’ music, with slewed synth blips and rolling polyrhythms gradually twisting into unrecognisable strands of melody and unconventional groove before your very ears.

The prog-heavy ‘Wizards!’ sees Buckley’s trademarked playful use of time-signature changes, providing such a wealth of emotional and stylistic variance and immeasurable enjoyment without changing key once (honestly, who needs keys). It’s brilliantly evocative too and could indeed perfectly soundtrack a mushroom-trip wizard march. As we flip the record over, the flutey flourishes and minimalist clicks of the title track draw the listener into a trancelike state, repeated movements spiralling like myriad creatures crawling over a candy-coloured horizon, echoing forth into an inviting sonic oblivion. It’s ostensibly electronic, yet somehow more natural organism than machine, with little concern for the grid, or indeed, the rules. Finally, we end on something a little more subdued - the reassuring classicism of the beautiful ‘Void High’, with washes of warm noise and wobbly delay lines whirring and twinkling away, closing the record with an experience that is undeniably emotional, spiritual and as always, uniquely Polypores. This is a wonderful record with which to close the year out, it comes in a magnificent, spot varnished Jake Blanchard sleeve. A superb record released as a one time only vinyl pressing.

Two years after releasing the Frontier's Edge EP, the Budos Band are returning with their first full-length since 2020's Long in the Tooth. Titled simply VII, the new album sees them doing what they do best: laying down hypnotic, horn-spiked grooves that menace and mesmerize in equal measure. Produced by Budos guitarist Tom Brenneck with Simon Guzmán engineering, VII features 11 tightly constructed new tracks that draw on the group's wide range of influences, sounding like only the Budos can. It's music for getting down, for nighttime drives, and for alternate headspaces _ a beguiling mix of mystery and rhythm that stands with the formidable work they've released in their two decades of recording. VII was recorded in California and serves as the Budos Band's first full-length album on Diamond West, the independent label founded in 2023 by Tankel and Brenneck. It's also the group's first album to include instrumental contributions from percussionist Rich Tarrana, who previously played in the Frightnrs. All told, it succeeds in opening up some new sonic spaces while staying tethered to the intuitive, unique musicality that made them such a sensation from the jump.

Cyphon Recordings proudly presents the latest release from Berwick, a Sheffield by Bristol
producer and DJ carving out a reputation for razor-sharp electro and forward-thinking club
sounds. With a background steeped in underground electronic music, Berwick has steadily built
his name through a string of uncompromising releases and energetic live and DJ sets, blending
the grit of classic electro with a modern rave-inspired touch. His new EP showcases his most
refined work yet—four tracks built for the floor, designed to move bodies and shake systems.
Opening with Fall & Melt, Berwick sets the tone with a punchy, contemporary electro cut. Its
driving percussion, crisp groove, and propulsive energy make it a peak-time weapon, balancing
raw dancefloor impact with seriously fat production finesse. Next up, Powerflip dives deeper
into the shadows. Gnarly synth lines, guttural bass, and clipped vocal hits collide to create a
darker, more menacing side of Berwick’s electro vision. With eyeball-rattling low-end, it’s a track
that demands a big system to unleash its full force.
On Impossible, Berwick shifts gears into an even faster lane. Elasticated bass and synths bounce
around the crisp drum groove, pushing the pace with an adrenaline-fuelled rhythm that’s as
urgent as it is infectious. Rounding off the EP, fellow Bristolian Sam Lester takes Powerflip into
new territory with a remix that leans towards wonky tech house. Stripping back some of the
raw menace of the original, Lester reshapes it with a 4 on the floor kick, layering in hypnotic
textures and a slick low-end that makes it a tripped-out weapon for house and techno sets
alike.
This release cements Berwick’s position as an artist unafraid to push electro into bold and
uncompromising spaces, while also opening the door to cross-genre interpretations.

TIGHE is a new name on us with nothing out there to tell us more, but whoever they are they know how to make walls rattle with their deepest dubstep. This offering comes on Beatrice M's Bait label and opens with the eerie 'Empty Units', which is a masterclass in building suspense and tension through empty spaces. The low end wobbles with glistening hi hats in the mids and distant sonic echoes adding late night intrigue. 'Untitled 9' is a busier cut that rides a lumpy broken beat with glitchy textures, and 'Cut Off' then has tribal percussion shimmering over more cavernous low ends. A pair of flipside remixes from Pianeti Sintetici & Yogg add more drive to close out a fine EP.

Toni Wobble is looking back on over 20 years of roots in punk, free parties and political movements. From anti-nuclear activism to the Gaggeldub performances, Toni's dug deep into the Dub universe: from Dubstation to Rootsbase to Subardo. By 2012, Toni became a respected operator of Leipzig's Plug Dub Soundsystem. Soon after, he didn't hesitate to create the very own solar- powered Sunplugged sound. Toni's live dub sets hit with all depth and energy of low bass sound culture, shaking the foundations with refreshing freakuency adventures. After a guest spot on our 18th release, helping RUZ dubbing out a deep b-side, it's time to unleash the full Wobble fury on 45Seven!

Out In Da Streetz was born in a lockdown, when urban life got stall, opening space for experiments. Inspired by Juke and Footwork at nights such as Bassmæssage, Toni ventured into Jungle production - the genre him love from way back. The result is an opus of subs, breaks, skanks and dubs. Expect 30 Hertz bass, wobbly midranges, halftime snares and Jungle edits sharp like razor. Don't miss the Ini cameo and hand-made skank work straight from the lab. The result ain't just a track, it's a state of inner and outer emergency, a deep dive into groove, texture and creative chaos.

Irie Cruise rolls up like a cloud of green smoke riding through the streets with a sick ride in a surreal vibe. Rootsy rhythms meet subtle Jungle twists inbetween the twinkles of Dub and the flickers of breakbeats. When the hook drops, the impulse fires up, the lowrider bounces through the turns of skanks, throwing dub delays and gliding deep into the night. By the final tone, you didn't just take a ride, you're actually a bit closer to the sun.

Toni Wobble is giving the full hundred. Dub ain't just a genre, it's a portal to infinite spaces of sound. It's a culture, a process and an attitude, all about echo, bass and space. But it's also about experimentation, consciousness and transformation. Each delay loop is reshaping reality, tearing it down and rebuilding it from the ground up. D.U.B. equals to deep universal beats, the universal frequency... Deep, wide and open. Tune in and dub out!

Le Motel and Bruce Wijn met at school, during a school art trip to Munich. They went separate ways for a long time.

Hailing from Brussels, Le Motel's world is a vortex of sight and sound that takes in the many and varied corners of the planet. As a music producer and film composer his versatility has taken him to festivals and clubs in every direction as naturally as he has ventured out to the less accessible areas of the globe as a field recordist. It's somewhere in between these spaces that Le Motel operates, gathering unique experiences and sounds to channel through his studio.

Bruce Wijn is a Brussels-based guitarist who played in several postrock kind projects such as Sound Film, 52 Commercial Road, or more shoegaze Lazy Sin. These collaborations gave him the opportunity to perform in various locations in Belgium, France, England, and the USA. As a musician, his focus has always been attracted by progressively built rhythmic melodies, which would eventually turn into long reverberated or distorted swells, or the otherway round.

All these experiences brought them both to the idea of scoring movies with different yet similar approaches.

That's how their first collaboration happened as Le Motel was working on the soundtrack of the movie Binti, and invited Bruce Wijn for the track Exode, in 2018. Since then, they've been working on other scoring projects, such as the feature film 'Aller Retour' more recently.

Alongside the movie scoring activities another audiovisual live project was born, in collaboration with Antoine de Schuyter and his mesmerizing images.

This one is more focusing on tape textures, field recordings and glitchy effects in order to build atmospheric tracks that they decided to bring together in a first E.P. 'MAAR'.

'MAAR' is elaborated as a soundtrack for an imaginary journey between cold seas and volcanoes explorations.

From the first echoing sounds of playing kids on the shoreside in the opening track 'La Perche' Le Motel & Bruce Wijn let you slide in a technicolor dreamworld, reverbing slowly innocent childhood memories into a chilled, out of range, future.

'MAAR' dives deep into a kaleidoscopic microcosmos watching Nautilus playing hide and seek with 'Captain Ahab' floating on sonic breaking waves, while seagulls gently spread their wings flying through the breezy and misty clouds of Blankenberge.

Lava vulcanica slowly melts in the sad euphorica of the cold North Sea, crystallizing sounds only Le Motel and Bruce Wijn can deliver.

Mister Water Wet returns to Soda Gong with "Things Gone and Things Here Still," an album that radically expands the project’s purview while preserving the homespun warmth and oblique tactility that have long defined Iggy Romeu’s work. Where earlier records tilted toward the dusty swing of sample-based beatcraft or spectral minimalist jazz, here Romeu opens the frame to a more ensemble-minded approach, inviting a stellar cast of supporting musicians, including SG alumni Memotone and K. Freund, into the fold.

The result is an album that feels both broader and more intimate, with live instrumentation such as piano, strings, and reeds woven into MWW’s signature lattice of hand percussion, production sleights, and slippery time signatures. Acoustic and electronic textures bend toward each other like plants angling for the same light: bowed strings blur into vaporous pads, brushed drums scatter under riffing guitars, a horn phrase lingers in the same space as a cracked cassette loop.

A tension between decay and presence - the “things gone” and the “things here still” - runs throughout the record. At times, the music evokes a chamber session refracted through waterlogged tape; at others, it recalls the afterimage of a hip-hop instrumental slowed into an oneiric haze. In the world of MWW, memory functions less as nostalgia and more as a living fabric - mutable and resonant. "Things Gone and Things Here Still" finds Iggy Romeu at his most expansive, offering up a generous record of open spaces and porous boundaries.

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by."