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Founded in Germany in 2019, CONSVMER. have spent the last few years carving out a space that’s entirely their own: progressive metal, beatdown, and metalcore delivered entirely in German, with an unflinching focus on subjects most people would rather look past. Their 2024 record Seelenfrieden turned heads inside and outside the German metal scene, with coverage from outlets including Nik Nocturnal and a collaboration with Paleface Swiss that confirmed the band were operating at a level far beyond their years. Live, they have earned their place on stages at Summer Breeze, Core Fest and Bembel X Core Festival. Now, with new vocalist Jacques Gronert and a vision sharpened to a point, CONSVMER. return with Abgrund.
Where Seelenfrieden refined the template, Abgrund dismantles it. Across eleven tracks the band push further into territory that feels genuinely unique and uncompromising: the title track opens the record on collective collapse and a society steering towards the edge with no intention of stopping, while songs like "Gier" tear into systemic greed and exploitation with brutal clarity, "Willenlos" descends into dissociation and the erasure of identity, and "Sucht" confronts addiction and self-destruction with a rawness that is hard to shake. Closer "Gottverlassen" leaves the listener exactly where the title suggests. The collaboration with brutal deathcore veterans Acranius on "Sucht" hits like a freight train, their English-language verses locking into CONSVMER.'s German delivery to devastating effect. Fellow German hardcore outfit DOGBITE also appear, adding another dimension to a record that never loses focus.

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.

The method is instability.

— Violeta Garcia & Hora Lunga

Violeta García & Hora Lunga return with 4ever, their second album and the follow-up to I’ll Wait For You In The Car Park. Released in 2025 on -ous, their debut received airplay on BBC and NTS and was selected for Bandcamp’s Best Experimental Music year-end list. 4ever picks up where that record left off: in ordinary moments, small scenes and the strange emotional weight of being somewhere between places. But here, these moments are stretched across a much larger, darker screen. A night flight, a terminal, a bad connection. When too many feelings are carried from one place to another, everyday situations begin to feel epic, empty, or apocalyptic.

Built from García’s cello and Hora Lunga’s synths, samples and field recordings, the album pushes further into emotion, letting fragile melodies, orchestral cello gestures, heavy low-end and compressed noise melt into something both dystopian and strangely familiar. Its warmth is not meant to be an escape from this world, but something that appears within it. Acoustically, the album lives through the closeness of the materials, the way sounds stay with each other, and in the feeling that even the most unstable moments are being carried together. The album presents itself in scenes that fade into each other: quiet melodic fragments that are interrupted and restarted, unpredictable changes of direction, held together by an inevitable melody, a bright synth harmony unfolding into an almost orchestral cello arrangement. Later, a broken organ-like sample turning in circles, cello melodies appearing as if they were trying to remember a song that never belonged to one voice alone. An endless loop that is placed under changing lights, briefly opening into emotional chords, then slipping back into emptiness.

It is this instability that Violeta García and Hora Lunga place at the center of their collaboration. They do not decorate the cello with production, or place electronics around an acoustic centre. They explain: “On 4ever, we become part of the same unstable surface. What holds the record together is not resolution, but the trust in staying together as things distort, overload, disappear and return.”

Violeta García, an Argentinian cellist known for her solo work and for her role in the punk band Blanco Teta, brings the instrument close to the body, as melody, pressure, texture, noise and sudden emotional weight. García has brought her distinct musical voice to KEXP, Rewire, Le Guess Who?, Bad Bonn Kilbi, Silent Green, TransMusicales, Roskilde and more.

Hora Lunga, a Zurich-based producer and composer working across unstable song forms, treats electronics less as a frame than as a weather system: something that can hold a scene together, distort it or make it disappear. In recent years, his compositions have ranged from experimental song forms, sound performances, ensemble compositions and film music. His ensemble WIRREN consists of up to fifteen performers.

For her new and most radical album »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone«, Martina Bertoni used the electronic instrument at EMS Stockholm to create four pieces that are massive in scale and incredibly intimate, sonically restrained and emotionally overwhelming—almost ambient and always demanding your full attention.

Martina Bertoni returns to Karlrecords with »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone,« her most radical album yet. The foundation for the four electroacoustic pieces was laid during a residency at Stockholm’s legendary Elektronmusikstudion (EMS) that the Berlin-based cellist and composer used to explore the curious instrument, originally designed by Halldór Úlfarsson in 2008, as an algorithmic system in order to examine tunings and the mathematical relationships between Aiming to analyse and understand their interaction beyond the composer’s control, Bertoni sought to engage more deeply with the concepts of time, tuning, and, most importantly, control. Accordingly, her four »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone« seem both massive in scale and incredibly intimate, sonically restrained and emotionally overwhelming— almost ambient and always demanding your full attention.

While the halldorophone—famously used by Hildur Guðnadóttir for her »Joker« score—roughly resembles a cello and can be played like one, it is an electronic instrument. The vibration of its strings is being picked up, amplified, and then routed through a speaker. This creates a feedback loop that becomes increasingly complex depending on how much gain is added to individual strings. Úlfarsson gave Bertoni a carte blanche for how to handle the instrument, but she stresses that she relied on »minimal interventions—some string strumming and plucking« that set the interactions of different sounds and frequencies into motion. »I decided to not approach it like a cellist would,« she explains. »Instead I used it as a kind of generative organ by turning it into a feedback machine, with tuned feedback triggering more feedback depending on the tuning, which was based on tetraphonic scales that I could apply on the four main strings as well as the sympathetic group of strings.«

Bertoni recorded the material in the EMS studio, later composing and arranging the four complex pieces in her home in Berlin, after which they were mixed and mastered by Ciaran O’Shea. While this can be considered a compositional abstraction process, traces of her concrete work as a performer are firmly ingrained in the music. »The halldorophone doesn’t have a line output, just a double set of speakers, which is why I recorded all sounds with two microphones in the EMS studio,« she explains. »That’s why there’s plenty of breathing sounds here and there—label owner Thomas Herbst and I jokingly refer to the album as my ›chamber music record‹.« And indeed, there is a striking sense of intimacy to these four pieces throughout which individual sounds, harmonic frequencies, and even subtle rhythmic figures seem to move both on their own accord but also according to a underlying vision that steers their interplay.

Indeed, »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone« is an album built on and marked by contrasts. The soothing polylogue of single sounds in the higher register on opener »Omen in G« is counterpointed by massive bass drones, while the second piece, »Nominal in D,« plays a cunning game of repetition and difference by combining thick textures with all kinds of rhythmic elements. »Fades in C«—the longest of the four pieces, clocking in at 17 minutes—unlocks the emotional potentials of the sonic qualities of the halldorophone, sounding at once serene and anthemic, and »Organon in D« closes the album by underscoring how Bertoni’s unconventional approach allows her to seamlessly transform simple, quiet tones into complex, towering walls of sound.

»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.

Almost Starlight is the extraordinary new album by Jem Finer (hurdy-gurdy) and John Matthias (violin). Produced by Jay Auborn and recorded in a Medieval Church, deep in the Devon countryside, in the Summer of 2025, the music is suffused with light, heat and the natural acoustics of the space.

The album defies categorisation; forced to pigeon hole it the nearest approximation would be ‘modern-classical’ but this ignores its myriad influences and explorations which encompass inspiration from Arvo Pärt through Terry Riley to Can via Delius, Alice Coltrane and a subtle reimagining of electronic music played purely with acoustic instruments, bending and shaping their possibilities in surprising and unexpected directions.

Jay Auborn plays cello on a number of the compositions and his production opens up and expands the music through a skilled and imaginative use of space, paying homage to the atmosphere of the church; ‘the sound evolved… chasing the imagined acoustics of that church in my mind; a place for worshipping light with sound.’

Almost Starlight will be released on the 4th September by Touch, available as CD, vinyl, cassette and on streaming platforms.

BIOS OF THE ARTISTS

Jem Finer

Since studying computer science in the 1970s, Jem Finer has worked in various fields, including photography, film, experimental and popular music, sound recording, sculpture and installation.

Much of his work relates to systems, extended processes and extremes of scale and includes Longplayer, a musical composition repeating once every 1000 years, and the Gurdy and Hurdy stones, ancient rocks set upright in fields in East Sussex and Gloucestershire with Jimmy Cauty. Their work together includes a band, The Standing Stones, whose most recent release is Twa Sisters, featuring Iona Zajac and Daragh Lynch.

He was a founder member of The Pogues, with whom he has played, written and recorded since 1981.

Recent music revolves around a fascination with the hurdy-gurdy and includes hrdy-grdy, a cassette released by Benedict Drew’s Thanet Tape Centre. His latest collaboration, with John Matthias, Almost Starlight, will be released by Touch in September 2026.

John Matthias

Since studying Theoretical Physics in the late 1980s and 1990s, John has created music and sound in many forms, including for installation, popular music, music for film, for dance and orchestra.

Much of John’s work plays with the physics of complex systems but he is also greatly influenced by stories and song. John has collaborated with Matthew Herbert, Stanley Donwood, Jay Auborn, Radiohead, Thom Yorke, Nick Ryan and many others to create music with a variety of textures and sonorities. He is particularly interested in simplicity and form and how context informs the way music sounds.

His latest collaboration, with Jem Finer, Almost Starlight, will be released by Touch in September 2026.

Time Heals Everything is the fifth studio album from Blu and Exile, a duo that first connected in 2007 and has spent nearly two decades refining a chemistry that continues to evolve. The ten-track LP follows 2024’s Love (the) Ominous World and leans deeper into their core strengths: soul-forward production, incisive writing, and left-field choices that feel instinctive rather than experimental.
The album opens with “Soul Unusual,” a mission statement that builds on the lineage of “Soul Provider” and “Soul Amazing,” reframed through Blu’s present-day perspective. “The word special comes to mind,” Blu explains. “This is my perspective of those songs now.” Exile adds that the record went through multiple iterations before landing in its final form. “Once I changed the beat, it really came together for me, and his words hit differently,” he says, setting the tone for a project rooted in refinement and intention.
“Crumbs” pairs Blu with Rome Streetz and ICECOLDBISHOP on a golden era-inspired backdrop, taking aim at the ‘crumbs’ people are expected to accept from corrupt systems of power. The track underscores one of the album’s central themes: clarity through experience, and the perspective that comes with time.
Time Heals Everything finds Blu and Exile honoring their foundation while continuing to push forward, proving once again that soul and risk-taking can coexist without compromise. “We took a different approach with the direction while still staying true to the culture our music has built with our fan base,” Blu says. In 2026, that culture remains alive, evolving, and resonant as ever.

Six drum-forward, tape-warped club constructions from the elusive Comandante engineer. Sampled 80s wreckage crushed through hardware and heavy compression: club-chug weapons + late-nite astral howling.

12″ edition of 200, individually hand-stamped and numbered. No represses.

Strange and sepulchral, Pedronium has crafted a mini-album on an astral flight, looping in and around macabre wormholes, from the strange sepulchre of opening serenade ‘4D VISION 1987’ to the deranged primal scream of ‘Nixe’ [dusk in the studio, crooning drunk on mic, disturbed sonics dragged up at the warbled gates]

‘Churms’, an unrelenting club chug banger that we’ve already heard send Lisbon’s best club systems into overdrive; ‘Finesse [The Right People]’, a teknicolor weapon hitting like a jackhammer on the concrete floor.

The grotesque charm of ‘Naked / Afraid’, the rickety jilt of ‘Snav’, all tape delay and foreboding pads, an imminent threat, a polysonic picture in a weird forgotten theatre.

The sanity of reason is already a distant dream on the late-night floor or the morning after. All tracks meticulously arranged and recorded live in one take.

The acclaimed compilation series returns with volume 4! Fourteen tracks showcasing the most exciting emerging voices in Belgian jazz, ready to claim a permanent spot on your turntable.

The latest instalment in the celebrated compilation series once again shines a spotlight on the most adventurous and forward-thinking artists emerging from Belgium's jazz scene. Curated by Belgian tastemaker, DJ and broadcaster Lefto Early Bird, the collection continues a tradition of uncovering hidden gems and introducing them to a wider audience of dedicated diggers.

Over the years, the Jazz Cats series has become a trusted barometer of Belgium's ever-evolving jazz landscape. Long before many artists gained international recognition, they first appeared on these compilations, making the series both a discovery platform and a snapshot of one of Europe's most exciting musical ecosystems.

Jazz Cats Volume 4 captures a scene bursting with creativity, diversity and ambition. Across fourteen carefully selected tracks, the compilation explores the many directions contemporary Belgian jazz is taking today. Jazz, hip-hop, electronic music, afrobeat, spiritual jazz and experimental sounds coexist effortlessly throughout the collection.

The opening stretch of the compilation, led by Brussels-based Irreversible Entanglements band member Aquiles Navarro, Ola Tunji and HelenaCasella, offers an early glimpse into a scene that rarely stands still. Their music moves freely between traditions and contemporary influences, reflecting less concern with preserving genres than expanding them. Artists such as Lupo Spaccaro and Kunde, joined here by the raw soul voice of Fred Gata, draw inspiration from hip-hop and contemporary beat culture, yet neither approaches these influences in a conventional way. Instead, they reveal how naturally these sounds have become part of the vocabulary of a new generation of jazz musicians.

Experimentation emerges as another defining thread. KVR and BREAD FOR PIGEONS embrace unpredictability through unexpected textures, shifting atmospheres and confident compositional choices, creating music that constantly challenges expectations. Elsewhere, artists like Gaiko and VLIEGWERK favor immersive soundscapes that reward repeated listening. Whether there's a connection between musical adventurousness and a preference for capital letters remains a question for future research.

At the heart of the compilation lies a strong sense of movement and groove. Ragini Trio and Foutloos approach that rhythm from different angles, yet both build their music around powerful, pulsating foundations. Their tracks need close attention, revealing layers of detail and low-end richness that practically demand to be experienced on a proper sound system.

By the time it reaches its closing chapter, Lucid Lucia, SLAGADER and Kuna Maze bring the focus back to forward motion. Jazz and funk-infused grooves provide a fitting finale, reminding us that however far these artists push the jazz genre, they never lose sight of its ability to connect, uplift and move people.

The result is a body of work that feels remarkably cohesive despite its diversity: a portrait of a scene that continues to evolve through curiosity, collaborationand constant reinvention.

No Drama, the imprint founded and curated by Roy Rosenfeld, continues to expand its artistic vision with a sixth release valuing originality over convention. The label has steadily established a platform for forward-thinking electronic music, inviting artists to challenge familiar structures while remaining grounded in musical substance.

The latest release features two tracks by internationally recognized producer Yuvée, known for seamlessly blending live instrumentation with deep house, melodic elements, and organic percussion. While Yuvée appears solo on one track, the other is a collaboration with Omer Inbar, who performs under the name Oi.

The opening track, Lava Core, presents the sound that has earned Yuvée international recognition. Tribal influences unfold through carefully crafted percussion, while evolving textures occupy every part of the stereo field. Every section advances the narrative, allowing the arrangement to grow naturally while maintaining dancefloor impact from beginning to end.

The second piece, Blue, brings Yuvée together with Oi, an internationally acclaimed DJ, producer, and sound engineer whose work bridges psychedelic vibes and groove-driven electronic music. The collaboration introduces greater club energy. Tonal and atonal elements interact with shifting harmonies and evolving instrumental phrasing, creating constant movement without losing coherence.

Rather than relying on formulas, the duo demonstrates the value of artistic perspective in an era increasingly shaped by technological automation. The result is music that balances intellect with feeling, offering a listening experience that remains equally compelling on a festival sound system, in a club, or through focused listening at home.

With its sixth release, No Drama reinforces its commitment to artists who expand the language of contemporary electronic music through craftsmanship, authenticity, and creative ambition.

Manonmars’ 3rd album sees him at his most amorphous and psychedelic, at points sharper and laser focused, and at others more blurred and impressionistic than his previous records. Many of the core players remain the same, all of the production is once again handled by O$VMV$M (the duo of Neek and Amos Childs of Jabu) while Paulina Korobkiewicz (also of Young Echo) makes a return handling both the album’s cover artwork and contributing a series of diaristic field recordings and voice notes.

‘The project references movies, cartoons, fictional characters and video games, among other things. The album title is open to interpretation but all of these elements are forms of visual entertainment which have their own unique ability to transcend things like language barriers and cultural divides. The visual element is key because those details bridge the gap on a communicative level.’ - Manonmars

The album blends abstract, blurred braggadocio with more immediate personal details such as on ‘Volcanic Shield’ a posse cut of sorts featuring Bristol improv luminary Dali de Saint Paul and Franco Franco (½ of cyborg rap duo Kinlaw & Franco Franco) - where Mars recalls;

‘Memories of brighter days, happy meal hit the spot
Mum was spinning vinyl playing Super Ape or Pressure Drop
I would spend the weekend with the Turkish mandem on the block
single parent household, mum was studying or on the job
money came and went always was an on and off
made it back from school time to see what’s on the box’


The beat fades away to leave one of Korobkiewicz’s recordings of Mars’ mum talking about her life in London in the 80s, spending her money on reggae records as an ambient chord fades in like an echo of a jungle intro – stretching out as a link between generations of UK music.

The production by and large is brighter and more kinetic than earlier Manonmars records – with O$VMV$M drawing on everything from modern underground rap and drill through to jazz and acid ambient passages.

London is also a central character here, bustling and constantly shifting, either when bleeding in through field recordings, or as an ever-present backdrop in the lyrics;

‘I’m a fusion of Tippa Irie and Topper Harley
Hit the target like the black Atari
I dropped a tab now shit’s A Scanner Darkly
Got the munchies, Imma yam a sarnie
Pour the Wray and Ting like man at Carni
Exit Peckham Rye and turn left, walk past Hannah Barry
Get your (w)raps up like its January’

‘I've always considered London my home, despite spending some time in the South West of England too. My mum had been living in London for 25 years (...) That was a pretty big deal in some ways because it removed us from multicultural society during the period which overlapped with my teenage years. (...) I never got used to how quiet it was in the countryside (...) Bristol was the closest city to where we lived and it was through travelling there and making connections that I became involved in making music and playing gigs.’ - Manonmars

Mars’ practice as a painter (under his given name Jack Martyn Richardson) and photographer also loom heavy over the album, he cites Paul Verhoeven, Abdul Mati Klariwein and H.R Giger as influences – as well as Miles Davis, Drakeo the Ruler and DJ Rashad.

As with much of Richardson’s work the raps at times feel blurred to a point of almost inscrutability, creating a distance between the audience and himself. A process that ties into his visual work and the way he experiences the world as mainly abstract colour without his glasses. He explores this further in an ongoing visual collaboration with Korobkiewicz, ‘Fun and Games’ which serves as a visual archive of one of London's largest and oldest travelling fairgrounds.

‘I was diagnosed with very severe short-sightedness at the age of seven. I remember my early formative years as visually blurred. Some of my photography reflects this experience of partial vision and uncertainty, referencing memory and perception rather than fixed representation.’

Manonmars’ first public outing as a rapper was at a Young Echo radio event, broadcast shambolically from a practice room just off Jamaica street, Bristol in 2011, as much as things have moved on both stylistically and in terms of focus - strong links back to the city remain a key foundation throughout the collaborations and guest appearances.

‘I have no problem with being an outsider looking in. One of the things I enjoy about London is the anonymity (...) it's easy to be a stranger here when so much is happening. I feel like thats more valuable than people may realise.’

Mr Bongo presents a reissue of the 1619 Bad Ass Band’s self-titled album, originally released in 1976 on the ultra-rare tax-scam imprint TSG Records. Formed by Khalid Abdul Shalid, the record was the only album released by the group, and has since become a mythical, highly sought-after prize for collectors and DJs, ranking among the most coveted albums on the 1970s rare soul scene.

This New Jersey soul-funk gem captures the raw energy of mid-‘70s underground funk and soul. Its journey began in relative obscurity having been released on TSG, one of several US “tax-scam” labels operating at the time. These labels exploited loopholes in the tax system by inflating production costs to create write-offs against their tax bills, meaning commercial success was never the objective. Records were often pressed in extremely limited quantities, with little to no promotion or distribution and in many cases, artists were unaware their music had even been released. While this led to the 1619 Bad Ass Band’s album slipping into obscurity upon release, it later cemented its status as a holy grail for diggers and DJs. Unfortunately, like many releases of its kind, it also meant the band never received the recognition they deserved at the time.

Musically, the album is a unique listen with a varied palette that will appeal to fans of a broad range of tastes. From the luscious, dreamy ballad ‘Rain’, which will melt even the stoniest of hearts, to the raw, drum-heavy funk of ‘Love To Love’, it showcases the group’s depth and versatility. Highlights include the string-laden, floaty stepper ‘Just From You’, and ‘Nothing Can Stop My Loving You’, with its spacey synth lines, which will be a joy for modern soul fans. Elsewhere, ‘Step Out’ opens with a heavy drum break (later sampled on Latyrx’s ‘Interlude’ from their 1997 debut) before unfolding into a brilliant male-female vocal exchange.

Every track on here is a winner and it’s criminal that the band never received the publicity or credit they deserved when it was first released. Alongside the TSG Records release in 1976, the album was later released again in 1978 with alternate cover art on another tax-scam label, Graham International. Both versions have since become highly collectable and over time, the album has steadily gained the recognition it always deserved. This reissue by Mr Bongo offers a wider audience the chance to experience a truly special record, one that stands as a testament to the overlooked brilliance of the era’s underground soul and funk scene.

Lorelle Meets The Obsolete return with their seventh album. It's the Mexican duo's finest, most ferocious work to date which sees them turbo-charge their psychedelic post-punk with a new electronic engine. Mixed by Antoine Goulet (live sound engineer for SUUNS) and mastered by Mikey Young (Eddy Current Suppression Ring), the most obvious comparison in terms of mood and mode is Primal Scream's classic XTRMNTR, another record that processed personal and political conflicts and spat them out as distorted dance music. It shows the influence of the duo's DJ sets and last year's radical Remezcla remix collection on their way of thinking and why they are now namechecking the likes of Moor Mother, MF DOOM, Patrick Cowley, The Bug, Paula Garcés, Phil Kieran, Coby Sey, Run the Jewels and Anadol."Playing other artists' music is different," says Lorena Quintanilla about the change of direction towards the dancefloor. "You're not just listening, you're watching how energy flows and how it affects other people. It gives you the chance to witness what moves other bodies." And Corporal, as the title suggests, is all about the body. "The body is what carries the weight of stress, exhaustion, sadness. It's the body that the system breaks first," explains Lorena. "Unintentionally, while composing the album, our bodies were seeking joy in the songs. Reconnecting with pleasure became a way to open new dimensions - a way to escape, yet remain present." The theme is carried over into the lyrics which, according to Lorena, variously refer to "the bodies that disappear, the abused bodies, the bodies we miss, the bodies that march together in protest, the bodies that are being controlled".

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ever since the late 1950s bossa-nova revolution, Brazil’s influence on French music has been undeniable. Pierre Barouh, Georges Moustaki and a vast array of lesser known artists, all made the Musica Popular Brasileira (MPB) an axis of promotion at the service of a cool and metaphysical, modern and mixed Brazilian lifestyle. Some were seduced by the poetic languors of the bossa, some were looking for fun, and others just loved the American hybridization of jazz-bossa, jazz-samba.



What is bossa nova? One of its creators, Joao Gilberto said: "Its style, cadence, everything is samba. At the very start, we didn't call it bossa nova, we sang a little samba made up of a single note - Samba de uma nota so .... The discussion around the origins of bossa nova is therefore useless”. It is nevertheless useful to remember that these magnificent Brazilian songs, which the guitarist describes as samba, were shifted and balanced around improbable chords. "I like things that lean, the in-betweens that limp with grace," said Pierre Barrouh, quoting Jean Cocteau.



With emotion, arrangements for violin and supple guitar licks, bossa nova rapidly changed. A transformation that can be heard in the Tchic, tchic, French Bossa Nova 1963-1974 compilation, the result of a cultural reappropriation, which traveled through the United States and supplemented itself in France.

A musical revolution that has remained significant, bossa nova was born in Rio. From 1956 to 1961, Brazil lived through its golden years. In five years, the country had invented its modernist style. Elected president in 1956, Juscelino Kubitschek de Oliveira, an elegant man with a broad forehead, brandished a promising slogan: "Fifty years of progress in five years". He quickly got to work. Not worried about increasing debt, he launched the project for a new federal capital, Brasilia, designed by the communist architect Oscar Niemeyer. Volkswagen opened state-of-the-art factories and created the “fusquinha”, the Beetle. In Rio, the Vespa made its first appearance. The Arpoador Surf Club crew run into the “girl” from Ipanema, Helô Pinheiro - the tanned garota ("chick"), between a flower and mermaid, who at 17 walked by the Veloso bar, where the fiery author and composer, Tom Jobim and Vinicius de Moraes, were getting drunk on whiskey. From then on, bossa symbolized cool.

In 1958, Joao Gilberto recorded Chega de Saudade, which the directors of Philips denied, calling it "music for fagots". The marketing director, who believed in it, secretly pressed 3000 78-inch vinyls and distributed them at schools around Rio, creating a tidal wave.

American jazzmen then took over. In particular, trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie and guitarist Charlie Byrd. In November 1962, the Brazilian Ministry of Foreign Affairs funded a "Bossa-Nova" concert at Carnegie Hall in New York, inviting the genre’s pioneers. Unprepared, the show soon turned to disaster. But the troupe was invited to the White House by Jackie Kennedy. The first lady loved "the new beat" and in particular Maria Ninguem, a song by Carlos Lyra, later covered by Brigitte Bardot.

In Brazil, the 1964 military coup quickly ended this euphoria. The destructive atmosphere that ensued pushed many Brazilian musicians to leave, if not to exile. Thus, Tom Jobim, Sergio Mendes and Joao Gilberto arrived to the United States. In New York, Joao Gilberto met saxophonist Stan Getz. At the time, he was married to the Bahianese Astrud Weinert Gilberto, who had a German father. She had never sung before, but she knew how to speak English. Getz therefore asked her to replace her husband on The Girl From Ipanema. The Getz/Gilberto record with Tom Jobim on piano, was released in March 1964. Phil Ramone, the "pope of pop" was in charge of sound.

Bossa nova arrived in Paris through the classic “guitar-voice” channel (Pierre Barouh, Baden Powell, Moustaki…) But France loved jazz and Paris had already welcomed its American contributors. All these good people were to pass through Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The cabaret l'Escale became the Mecca of Latin American sound where one could find Pierre Barrouh and his friends, such as the Camara Trio, samba-jazz aces, whose only record was published by the Saravah label. With a band strangely called Les Masques (a band that included Nicole Croisille and Pierre Vassiliu, among others), the Camara Trio recorded an interesting Brazilian Sound, including the track Il faut tenir which is present on this tasty compilation of rarities.

Other enlightened musicians can also be found on the compilation, such as Jean-Pierre Sabar (songwriter for Hardy, Auffray, Leforestier ...) and the French pop rock organist Balthazar. In 1975, Sabar recorded Aurinkoinen Musiikkimatka on a Finnish label, which featured the crazy Vai, Vai, included on this record. We are now following the footsteps of Brazilian electronic musicians such as Sergio Mendes, Eumir Deodato or Marcos Valle who created funk and disco sounds on their keyboards and synthesizers. A style that influenced Véronique Sanson when she wrote Jusqu’à la Tombée de la nuit in 1969 for Isabelle de Funès, the niece of Louis and a great friend of Michel Berger - Sanson did end up singing this track on her 1992 Sans Regret record.


The pinnacle of exoticism and travel, Sylvia Fels’ Corto Maltese includes bongos, sea mist and ocean sounds. The title was taken from Jacky Chalard’s concept album written in 1974, Je suis vivant, mais j’ai peur (I am alive, but I am scared), based on Gilbert Deflez’s science fiction novel.


However, bossa nova extended the scope of popularity. "In the 1970s, I was a fan of Sergio Mendes, Getz / Gilberto. I fell in love with this music that I knew because I had been an orchestral singer, " explained Isabelle Aubret, who in 1971 delivered a composite record of covers by the very funky Jorge Ben, Orfeu Negro, Tom Jobim, Vinicius de Morais and Jean Ferrat. "I recorded this album for Meys Records in Paris, far from Brazil, with wonderful musicians, François Raubert, Roland Vincent, Alain Goraguer...". The latter wrote the arrangements for Casa Forte, a very percussive title borrowed from Edu Lobo, one of the initiators of the bossa who spent time in California. "Jazz and bossa came together and produced very rhythmic music. I love singing, it allows me to dream, to have fun, to feel a high on stage, and these songs brought me joy, made me swing, my singing felt like a dance.”


The world tours of French singers and their desire for the tropics, often brought them to Rio with its hills, forests, caipirinhas and tanned bodies. There are surprises though, like this Iemenja (Iemenja is the goddess of the sea in the Afro-Brazilian candomblé religion). Not unlike the composer and musician Jean-Pierre Lang, based in Sao Paulo, Claire Chevalier taught Brazil to Brazil. In 1970, the singer and painter published a 45-inch vinyl, Mon mari et mes amants (My husband and my lovers), under the improbable pseudonym of Clarinha (little Claire). She was then living in Rio, with her husband, Joël Leibovitz, who founded a band called Azimuth, and who owned a record label specialized in "sambas enredos" songs for samba school parades.


For its B side, she asked Pierre Perret to come up with lyrics for a song composed by Carlos Imperial: "Oh goddess of the sea, o goddess Iemenja, I bring a white rose to adorn your long hair ..." . "Perret came to see us, and we had fun, remembers Joël Leibovitz. We wrote Lemenja for fun, we recorded it at the Havaí studio, behind the Central do Brasil the central station. Erlon Chaves, the arranger who worked with Elis Regina, joined us" adding his share of Afro-Brazilian percussions and funky brass to the mix.

There is a common misunderstanding in Franco-Brazilian history: that bossa, admittedly hedonistic, is perceived as funny, even though the poets who wrote the texts are often philosophizing on the human condition. Its French interpreters pull it towards a carnival inspired universe, far removed from its fundamental essence. Thus, Jean Constantin covered the famous Samba da minha terra, an ode to the art of samba written by the classic Bahian composer Dorival Caymmi, renaming it with the enticing title of Pas tant de tchi tchi pompon: "On your pier there is no tchi tchi / when you arch your back, you know everything is alright ”(lyrics by Gérard Calvi). This expedited bossa aims for the absurd, but retains a certain elegance.

Indeed, Jean Constantin was not an idiot, the rather large man had a huge mustache and liked fantasy, (Les pantoufles à papa, Le pacha, inspired by cha-cha-cha-cha, salsa and jazz) but he was also the lyricist of Mon manège à moi interpreted by Edith Piaf, the composer of Mon Truc en plume by Zizi Jeanmaire and the soundtrack of François Truffaut’s 400 Blows. Le Poulpe, published in 1970, from which this bossa is extract, was arranged by Jean-Claude Vannier, an accomplice of Serge Gainsbourg’s Melody Nelson. In short: "There is enough of samba / By looking at the parasol / Because my poor cabeza / Is going to die in the sun".

Even the American actress Marpessa Down, who was at the heart of the bossa nova revolution with her role as Euridyce in Marcel Camus’ film Orfeu Negro, winner of the 1959 Cannes Palme d'or, fed the clichée with Je voudrais parler au petit cuica - "Tell me how you manage to always make people want to dance / It's true, I must admit that I cannot resist your magic" - in consequence, once can hear the cuica, a little drum inherited from the Bantu.


But bossa nova had many angles. Societal, of course, pushing actresses who were symbols of women's liberation like Brigitte Bardot, Jeanne Moreau, or Sophia Loren to engage in the exercise of accelerated bossa. In February of 1963, Sophia Loren made a record in French in Rome, Je ne t'aime plus, featuring the song De jour en jour, a bossa written by two Italians, Armando Trovajoli and Tino Fornai, which was released a little later by Barclay. Bossa accompanied the 1960s, a decade of moral liberation. Ann Sorel, who interpreted La Poupée des favellas, caused a sensation with L’amour à plusieurs, a provocative song written by Frédéric Bottom and Jean-Claude Vannier. As for the actress Andrea Parisy, she displayed her bourgeois cheekiness in Marcel Carné's Les Tricheurs before interpreting Les mains qui font du bien. And Magalie Noël, the friend of Boris Vian, who sung Johnny fais-moi mal, was hired to sing Une énorme Samba, composed by Alain Goraguer (arranger to Gainsbourg, Bobby Lapointe and Jean Ferrat) with lyrics by Frédéric Botton.

But in the end, of what wood is bossa nova made of? The answer is given by Christianne Legrand, daughter of Raymond the conductor, and sister to Michel the composer: "With me, with jà" - jà means "immediately" in Portuguese. In 1972, the singer, an expert in vocal jazz and a member of the Double Six, published Le Brésil de Christianne Legrand. Two songs included on the Tchic Tchic compilation that demonstrate how bossa, jazz, funk, rock, etc. work like a swiss army knife: the music is used to denounce broken systems, or miracles, HLM et ciné roman, Cent mille poissons dans ton filet, two songs from the O Cafona soundtrack, a successful telenovela broadcast, at the time in black and white, on TV Globo. The first was adapted in French by the fighter and friend of the Legrand tribe, Agnès Varda. The second is content with a play on words, jostling them into a summer fun.



Véronique Mortaigne

Siren Selector launches its mixtape series with a companion release to Remy Solar’s - ‘Heavy Terrain’ cassette.

“Jamaican music grows in rings like an old tree. From a core of early riddims, the genius of Studio One, versions of original basslines and melodies evolve over time New releases of the same tune follow each other through the 70s, 80s, 90s, into this millennium. Generations of the same family. And then there’s the unreleased versions, the frontier dubs built strictly for sound systems, held close by those who got them and only gradually circulated into the wider audience of selectors and collectors. These are the ones where the bass is heavier, the echoes more mind- bending, the effects wilder and the drums harder. Older sound followers tell stories of how these dubs defined dances, flattened opponents in clashes, inspired a dozen rewinds. Younger followers remember these tales and pass them down. These dubs are folklore.

Who knows how many such versions there are in the vast worldwide archives of Jamaican music? Not me. But as a little taster of a lifetime’s musical journey you can open your ears right now to a few moments: Lacksley’s Castell’s “Unkind”, transported from the sprightly riddim which underpinned it on his Princess Lady album and reengineered into a thunderous version of Ras Michael’s None A Jah Jah Children; “Deceivers” by the Heptones, stripped back into something simultaneously ethereal and bathyspheric; Keith Hudson’s “I’m No Fool” emerging from a pressure cooker of bass and drum; Jah Lloyd’s “Black Moses”, busting down walls with its epic echo and siren opening.

I started collecting these dubs in the late 90s. We were going to Shaka at the Rocket, Aba Shanti in the Arches, then Imperial Gardens. Entebbe somewhere off Mare Street. Iration Steppas in Kingsland Road, Jah Tubby’s in the Rec. We were doing our own parties at the time in east London, Bohemia Place, then Trenz, Dungeons, the old social services office by London Fields. Building up a sound, taking it on the road, crew sitting on the speaker boxes in the back of a Mercedes 508. Under the stars or in warehouses with sweat dripping from the ceiling, lugging crates and amps across fields or up flights of stairs, stringing up boxes under bridges, in car parks or on roundabouts. Waiting for the moment to drop the dubs.

This tape is dedicated to my crew and all the music providers and anyone who also knew or wants to know these moments.“

Fifty Physical Copies - 60 mins - No digital

No filler, no big gestures, just focused underground club music with soul, depth and proper drive. A strong and confident opening statement from Galaxy Dreams. A well-rounded 4 tracker with character, soul, and enough punch for both intimate clubs and bigger systems.

Brazilian duo DEAFKIDS returns with a vital and combustive new album, CICATRIZES DO FUTURO (SCARS OF THE FUTURE).

This nine-track sonic assault forges a path beyond the conventions and boundaries of static musical genres. Here, electronic fury and feverish organic percussion collide with a relentless Latin American punk spirit.

Vinyl is opaque orange with black dot splatter. Limited


PRESS FOR PREVIOUS ALBUM ‘METAPROGRAMACAO’ (NR113)

LEAD REVIEW IN WIRE MAGAZINE: 'BRAZIL'S DEAFKIDS PERFECT AN UNHOLY COLLISION OF DUB, METAL AND PSYCH ON THEIR CACOPHONOUS NEW ALBUM'
'OPENER 'MENTE BICAMERAL' SOUNDS LIKE BAD-TRIP MINISTRY AND THE SEVEN MINUTE CENTREPIECE 'RAIZ NEGATIVA' IS ABSOLUTELY HUGE' 4.5/5 NARC

“ONE OF THE MOST INDIVIDUAL ENDEAVOURS OUR COMMUNITY WILL DELIVER THIS YEAR” ZERO TOLERANCE.

9/10 REVIEW IN LOUDER THAN WAR: “. IT'S NOISY, IT'S INDUSTRIAL, IT'S PUMMELLING AND ULTIMATELY, IT'S COMPLETELY SATISFYING..

Conceptually, the album is a visceral diagnosis of a world intoxicated by its own fictions
of power, tracing the anatomy of a systemic grand deception and exploring its mechanics
of psychological, social, and material domination, the indelible marks imprinted on bodies
and minds and its catastrophic consequences.

It is a journey from the poisoned and addicted collective psyche to the desperate search for an antidote, while the future seems to be already cursed by the very forces that pretend to build it. Yet, for all its thematic weight, CICATRIZES DO FUTURO is hypnotically danceable - physical and ritualistic music that demands body movement as a form of mental cleansing. The album doesn’t just reflect a fractured and violent world — it breathes desire to live and resist through new sonic paths

Crash is a debut EP of Abel Dalum, aka KennyKrazyWorld. Often appearing on tracklists of many, now breaking through with his highly anticipated 4 piece solo, no-remix EP. Across four movements, KennyKrazyWorld sketches a system in flux: fragments of noise, texture, and space dissolving into one another. As he likes to say himself, "its all about the percussions".

Petrichor opens with the residue of a storm — metallic air, wet circuitry, the pulse of machines breathing beneath the rain and a broken up kick. Like a scene from Blade Runner or a concert hall opening somewhere deep in the megalopolis. The 10-minute track is there to pull in and not let go. Dust follows, bone-dry and disintegrating, rhythm shedding its structure until only motion remains, hooking the listener to lose himself in its enchanting wormhole of evolving percussions and atmospheres.

At its core, the 3rd "backbone" track of the same-named EP, Crash, is already breaking apart: percussive tension folding in on itself, and a memorable voice over to seal the deal. Divergent closes the loop — but doesn't leave the listener with breadcrumbs, rather with a feeling like a party in full effect being closed at 3AM due to some scumbag cops…
Crash is techno as erosion, but also a study of groove and flow — repetition worn into form, emotion distilled through pressure.

German-Turkish singer and composer Alev Lenz follows her self-released album 4 in a Cycle of Thirds (Jan 2026) with a complete, album length ambient rework by Simian Mobile Disco co-founder Jas Shaw. “The two records are very much intertwined," writes London-based German-Turkish singer and composer Alev Lenz. "I made 4 in a Cycle of Thirds with Jas in mind, inspired by a mix he created for my last album.” Lenz and Shaw have previously worked together on 2024 collaboration EP Bring Your Friends, as well as album mixes for Lenz' previous two solo records. Lenz' original album was created from a series of single-note drones, one for each note of the chromatic scale. "When I had this idea, I wanted Jas’ touch involved somehow. I asked him for drones on each note. He sent me 12 and I wrote most of the album listening to these drones. They eventually left the picture and were replaced by new drones I made, new sounds or vocals. But the memory of them lingers in the songs, like an imprint on the retina, an afterimage.

So naturally when the record was finished I sent the totality of it to Jas and said: here you go, make your versions!" 4 in a Cycle of Thirds in its original form touches on traditional folk musics, chamber music, contemporary composition, film score, and even interweaves subtle metal inflections, but now presented on double vinyl alongside Jas Shaw's versions as twin records, it has a newly foregrounded quietude, spectral and delicately nuanced. Through reduction, meticulous replacement, and sensitively applied edits, Shaw gently rebalances the light and shadow of the original pieces, coaxing new subtleties and harmonic resonance. "It occupies a space that is in-between the lines," describes Lenz. Shaw employs a "feedback system" he created for his piano, applied here to devastating effect. "Take the key bed off it and set up a resonators, mics and a mixer. Lots of gaffa tape, lots of precarious propping stuff open. You grub around on the floor and slowly the room fills with harmonics, it’s wonderful." And, on the relationship between the original record and these new versions, he explains "we could really let the songs drift into a different shape without worrying that we were missing elements that were great."

Alev Lenz is a singer, songwriter, composer, and producer born to a Turkish actor, activist, and artist mother and an Oscar-winning German engineer father. Alev’s creative foundation is as diverse as her musical output. Her solo discography includes three albums - Storytelling Piano Playing Fräulein (2009), Two-Headed Girl (2017), and 3 (2019). She has contributed vocals to scores by Oscar-winning composer Volker Bertelmann, including the US drama Conclave. She has collaborated with artists such as Anoushka Shankar, Jas Shaw (Simian Mobile Disco), Roomful of Teeth, and plenty more. Songwriter, composer, and producer Jas Shaw is best known for his work with Simian Mobile Disco, whom he co-founded in 2003. He mixed Alev Lenz' 2016 and 2019 albums Two-Headed Girl and 3, and also performs with Selling alongside Gold Panda, and Shaw & Grossfeldt with visual artist Bas Grossfeldt. Shaw and Lenz released the collaboration EP Bring Your Friends in 2024.

Mad Rey is a Paris-based producer and DJ whose universe moves freely between warm house, raw electronic textures, and influences drawn from the international club scene. First emerging through the D.Ko Records collective and label—one of the key forces behind the French house revival of the 2010s—he quickly developed a sensitive and organic signature, blending analog groove, evocative melodies, and a deep dancefloor energy. His notable releases on D.Ko, followed by projects with labels such as Red Lebanese and Ed Banger Records, reflect a singular trajectory at the crossroads of France’s most influential underground and electronic scenes.

Constantly evolving, Mad Rey is now opening a new chapter in his journey. An upcoming EP on Yoyaku affirms a more club-focused and percussive direction, while new productions leaning toward tech house outline a sharper sound designed for powerful systems and late-night dancefloors. This evolution comes with a clear ambition: to carry his music beyond French borders and expand his presence on the international stage.

Balancing production precision, DJ instinct, and an ongoing search for renewal, Mad Rey continues to shape a distinctive artistic world—rooted in the present yet firmly oriented toward the future of the dancefloor.

King Tehuero features four cuts, including two dub versions on the B-side by Don Fe, who also mixed and mastered the entire record.

The record opens with the Guitar Version. Guitar as a lead in sound system culture is far from the norm, giving the track a distinctive edge shaped by Andalusian tones and echoes of ancient Iberian lore.

The remaining cuts strip the guitar away, shifting the focus back to rhythm and low end. On the B-side, both dub versions explore deep, dark territory, with the second pushing further into bass-heavy, dubwise pressure.

a a1. King Tehuero [Guitar Version feat. Martincore]

[c] b1. King Tehuero [Don Fe Dub]
[d] b2. King Tehuero [Don Fe Dubwise Cut]

Fuse leans further into its proposed aesthetic of biting club tracks with a brand new release by Cirkle. ‘Infinity Drift’ balances powerful sound system sound design with lush ambiance, creating standout moments on a dancefloor with a taste of nostalgia. These tracks explore the richness in themes that techno can have when made by someone who’s spent years meticulously crafting it. ‘Skyland’ asserts itself first with impressive pace. Swift chord stabs open and close to create waves of excitement and craze in the track while percussion shuffles along to add impact; Cirkle is an artist of all rooms and dimensions. Shrill sound design cuts through the stereo field creating a wormhole in the middle of rhythmic determination. Tension balance and anticipation are his specialty and every transition whips his dispersed elements into singularity in the EP, specifically the title track. A truly musical piece that embraces the crowd with vintage warmth, ‘Infinity Drift’ tones down the dissonance in exchange for something closer to astral exploration. These larger than life themes are never lost on dancers and serve to unify the dancefloor into an organism instead of pushing sound system violence. This is a theme that is omnipresent in Cirkle’s music and carried through into ‘Stimulus’. Here, the Greek producer dips into the hypnotic bordering on psychotic, stretching arpeggios and delays across drum transitions and time. The dimension of ‘Stimulus’ matches the preceding tracks with ease, but stands out in its effect, rolling a powerful synth through reliably tuned percussion. For the final track, ‘Impulse’ sees Cirkle prioritizing the importance of drums. Pressing hard on the drive of the kick, rides and filtered claps squeeze their way out of the low end to create an infectious groove. Stabs of ethereal pads envelope the rest of the EP, leaving space for the rest to breathe. Bumping along the way, Cirkle lands the EP with class, cementing himself further as an artist whose knowledge of the dancefloor creates a singular experience.

Occibel and GRiNCH join forces for a split EP navigating the space between electro and house. Drawing inspiration from the early 2000s, the two artists deliver a complete journey where colourful synth riffs interact with heavy basslines and crunchy drums. Late Nights, Early Mornings explores a wide emotional palette, ranging from club-oriented grooves to nostalgic moods.

The A side focuses on Occibel’s work. Devil May Care (A1) opens the EP with a powerful statement, where a driving bassline and shimmering synths evoke the spirit of the 80s. Doors of Perception (A2) takes a darker turn, blending distorted textures with spooky synth lines for an explosive result.

GRiNCH takes over the B side with two solo tracks and a final collaboration. Precision Deluxe (B1) is a techy cut merging funky elements with a bouncy bassline and haunting vocal touches. Failure System (B2) builds around a hypnotic groove and sexy futuristic vocals, delivering an effective peak-time weapon for the dancefloor. Closing the EP, Nosta Roller (B3) sees both artists teaming up to craft a melancholic electro banger the perfect finale to a late-night journey.

A defining transmission in the history of Skylax Records. Originally released across different moments of the Skylax catalogue, these recordings are now assembled as the final chapter of the Skylax House Explosion series — a project exploring the architecture, memory and survival mechanisms embedded within house music culture. The record opens with Move D’s “Outer Rim 64”, originally released in 2018 as part of the Skylax House Explosion narrative. Suspended between motion and distance, the track establishes the conceptual perimeter of this final chapter — a space where rhythm no longer functions only as propulsion, but as orientation. Here the listener stands at the outer edge of the dancefloor’s architecture, where structure persists even as its original social conditions begin to disappear. The sequence continues with Hardrock Striker’s “Motorik Life (DJ Sprinkles Dub)”, originally released in 2011. Rather than operating as a conventional remix, the Dub reinforces the motorik continuum of the original composition, transforming repetition into endurance. DJ Sprinkles preserves the infrastructural skeleton of the dancefloor — its capacity to sustain bodies through duration alone, without narrative resolution or emotional release. The record culminates with “Motorik Life (DJ Sprinkles Mountain Of Despair Remix)”, one of the most politically explicit works ever associated with Skylax Records. Through the relentless repetition of the phrase “mountain of despair,” Terre Thaemlitz dismantles the traditional function of dance music, transforming remix culture into structural critique. Referencing Martin Luther King Jr.’s famous metaphor, the remix removes the promise of redemption and leaves only the architecture of struggle. The dancefloor is no longer presented as escape, but as a temporary condition of survival. Together these recordings reveal house music’s true function: not to resolve despair, but to create temporary conditions in which bodies can continue to exist despite it.

AFTER THE DANCEFLOOR

you cannot preserve a dancefloor
by archiving its sound
because the dancefloor was never sound

it was bodies
finding temporary protection
inside systems designed to erase them

house music was never a genre
it was a survival strategy

when the lights disappeared
the structures remained
and so did we

For well over a decade, MONOLORD have caused mass riff hypnosis with longform epics steeped in repetition, volume, and heaviness. One of heavy music’s most consistent and beloved bands, MONOLORD are gearing up for their next chapter with a new album titled Neverending. In looking for a new take on the genre, MONOLORD approached the legendary producer Sylvia Massy, known for her work with Tool, System of a Down, and Johnny Cash, among many more. The payoff from this new process is undeniable. Neverending feels like the culmination of 13 years of heavy, molten music, with a keen eye towards creating a sharper album. “The recording of this album is an example of the spirit of MONOLORD’s camaraderie,” says bassist Mika Häkki. “We’ve looked back and seen for the first time how much we have done as a band collectively, and realized what an intense 13 years it has been.” "The lyrics on this album are more personal than before because I went through some major life changes in the last couple of years,” guitarist/vocalist Thomas Jäger says. “I usually write about religion and how people are superstitious, but this record is more about relationships between people. But it’s not all about me. Sometimes I’m writing from another person’s perspective.” Neverending’s lead single “You Bastard” offers listeners a sharp contrast: A propulsive groove offset by lyrics about suicide. There’s two sides to suicide,” Jäger points out. “There’s the person who commits suicide and the people who gets left behind...The choruses represent the person left behind, and that person is calling the other a bastard—but it’s not pointing fingers or saying, ‘You suck.’ It’s more like, ‘You left me here with all the bullshit.’ It’s an understanding that life is not easy." Though it might not be immediately obvious, album opener “Iodine” was inspired by 70's rock epics like Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Free Bird,” The Eagles’ “Hotel California,” and Led Zeppelin’s “No Quarter." Elsewhere, album closer “It’s Neverending” is the first MONOLORD song that Jäger doesn’t sing on. Instead, the death-metal style vocals are performed by former Entombed bassist Jörgen Sandström, (also of Grave, Domedagen and Firespawn.) 13 years on, MONOLORD’s path takes a new turn, and Neverending becomes the band’s most befitting album title. “It's been a wild ride and still is,” says drummer Esben Willems. “I've spent a quarter of my life in this band. Looking back, I'm incredibly proud of what we've accomplished along the way, and in many ways, this album feels like the essence of everything we've done so far. My mindset is the same it's always been, to be the absolute best the three of us can be.”

Two Piers proudly announces the upcoming release of Bridges Towards Open Spaces: Circadian Rhythms 1967–2025.

This new collection brings together a wide range of artists and styles, weaving immersive sonic landscapes that explore a connection between natural cycles and the rhythms within.

Featuring artists such as Brian Eno, Moebius, Roedelius, Meat Beat Manifesto, Fun Boy Three, Daniel Avery, and Spectrum, the compilation moves fluidly between shimmering ambient textures and raw, straight-ahead garage rock.

Bridges Towards Open Spaces: Circadian Rhythms 1967–2025 follows in the footsteps of Two Piers acclaimed previous releases, Night Train: Transcontinental Landscapes 1968–2019 and Music for the Stars: Celestial Music 1960–1979, continuing the label’s exploration of expansive, time-spanning musical journeys.

“I wanted once again to shape a compilation around a time period, this collection is a nod to my days behind the counter of a record shop, the people I met and the styles of music that was played and I was introduced to. Some are from that time, some are of the style/feeling, that I can associate & with the friends I met there; from the early shift to the late shifts as the tempo rose throughout the day and the neons of London started to buzz”

The album will be available on Limited Vinyl and CD in May, arriving just in time for the longer, warmer days and the shifting light of the Seasons Sun.

“One of Berghain’s longest-serving residents, Luke Slater has been defining bleepy, polyrhythmic, industrial-strength techno as Planetary Assault Systems since the mid-nineties. P.A.S albums tend to come together in their own time:

“External signals and signs combine until the recipe feels right, both musically and from being ‘out there’,” Slater adds. “10 years since I released Arc Angel on Ostgut Ton, and it’s a fitting pleasure to combine live show ideas and studio work for the new album, served up with raw energy” That patience runs through his whole Ostgut catalogue; since Temporary Suspension brought its machine-tooled weight and alien feeling to the label in 2009, each P.A.S. release on Ostgut Ton has been its own quest for discovery, from The Messenger’s search for sounds not yet present in club music to Arc Angel’s focus on melody to the deep hypnosis of Plantae.

His new album, Planetary People has the deliberate imagination and depth of a record that took its time, shaped as much by live rooms and crowds as by the studio.

“Into The Night” creates a haunting, dystopic environment of corroded acid saturated in echo, absorbing from the first second. “Labyrinth” breaks into buoyant tribal percussion, modulated chirps trading off over propulsive drums. “Quadrant 10” is clean, delay-drenched techno, buzzing with noise splatters over saturated thuds. “Sermon Of The Light Tides” scrambles metallic bell sequences that distort and evolve throughout, reminiscent of a dial-up modem crossed with a game of Frogger, squelching between percussive bursts and stripped-back kicks. “Brave Cosmo” is tormentingly menacing, eerie synths panning around buried vocal fragments over frantic percussion. “Retina Burn” rolls on fierce, cement-mixer 909 cycles, rave stabs over a ride that locks you in, the whole track stuttering and repeating before stripping back to a bare echoing kick and building itself again. “Thunder Major” barrels on open hats and reverb-drenched claps ricocheting through twisting wreaths of delay, mesmeric and relentless. “Beton Brut” marches juggernaut percussion stamping through hall reverb so vast you can visualise the room, the darkest and most unrelenting track on the record. “No Ninja” crunches in metallic and immediate, a wiry plucked lead threading through glitch with the bass held low and deep, mixed so precisely you can see every layer stacked in your mind’s eye. “Ha Jam” is danceable techno with plenty of funk and a sophisticated looseness, a vocal laugh bouncing off clanging metal blocks and rave stabs. “Lynx” lowpasses its rave stabs and crystalline beeps, chirpy hats ticking, cold metal repeats, old school and mesmeric. “Generation Slip” closes everything out, ominous and churning, skittering percussion and electrical sparks rattling through steel, a freight train barrelling on into oblivion.

A groundbreaking collision of Atlantic psychedelia and cosmic dub!

A collaboration set to leave a lasting mark: Sensible Soccers join forces with dub master Mad Professor for an EP that redefines the boundaries of this year's electronic music.

Available in both physical and digital formats, this release captures a rare and powerful meeting of two distinct yet deeply connected sonic worlds. The result is a fully immersive experience—a new form of post-dub psychedelia, blending hypnotic grooves, expansive textures, and deep sound system vibrations.

The opening tracks, “Dub de Saia Travada” and “Berlaitada Dub”, are pure dancefloor catalysts: magnetic rhythms, heavy basslines, and a lysergic energy primed to ignite clubs and festivals throughout the summer. Music designed for movement, for the body and the mind—an invitation to lose yourself in collective, hallucinatory dance rituals.

Closing the EP is “Dub Discreto”, a cosmic and visionary journey that pushes the project even further. Here, dub meets the synthetic waves and abstract explorations of cosmic sound pioneers like Cluster and Klaus Schulze—reimagined through the warmth and depth of Jamaica. A timeless experience, suspended between deep space and earthly vibrations.

This EP is more than a collaboration—it’s a bridge between cultures, eras, and states of consciousness. An essential release for record stores, distributors, and listeners seeking something truly forward-thinking.

Cosmic Journey is the new album by Little Lion Sound, bringing together the sound system's most significant releases from the past two years. The album embodies the DNA and artistic evolution of Little Lion Sound, reflecting a deep love for reggae and sound system culture, as well as a strong ability to build bridges between generations and territories.

Born from sound system culture and firmly rooted in reggae, Little Lion Sound has developed an open and modern musical vision over the years, blending contemporary reggae with hip-hop influences while always preserving the essence of the genre. Cosmic Journey perfectly illustrates this approach through a coherent and immersive soundscape, driven by deep basslines and meticulous attention to textures and arrangements. The album also stands out for the richness of its collaborations, bringing together iconic artists and rising voices from the international reggae scene. From Jamaican foundations (King Kong, Capleton) to new generations, passing through Brazil (Jô), London (Brother Culture), and Trinidad & Tobago (Queen Omega), each contributor brings their own color, energy, and signature. The project also highlights collaborations with producers from France, Costa Rica, and Jamaica, further enhancing the diversity and balance of the album.
Cosmic Journey is a true invitation into their musical universe. A celebration of creativity, authenticity, and the collaborative spirit at the heart of sound system culture, this sonic journey is designed as a complete experience where tradition and innovation meet, uniting established artists and emerging talents.

Tracklisting:

Despite its tragic breakup, Yugoslavia as a political, social and cultural phenomenon still inspires generations, especially those who were born or lived at the time of this utopian land of South Slavs. Those who didn’t enjoy the privilege are still amazed by its 1970s and ’80s music scene and the number of very modern, high quality acts that were so often ahead of their time. Two such acts were Data and The Master Scratch Band, both founded by Zoran Jevtic and Zoran Vracevic, who introduced synth-pop, breakbeat, and hip-hop music in Yugoslavia in 1984 with their releases: SP Neka Ti Se Dese Prave Stvari/Ne Zovi To Ljubavlju and miniLP Deogut (Jugoton). Our latest release, “It Was Ridiculous, It Was Amazing!” gathers their earliest unreleased material from 1981-1983, showcasing a broader range of genres – alongside synth-pop and breakbeat/hip-hop, they also experimented with industrial, EBM, minimal synth, and electro-funk!

The whole record is divided into two parts: on A side there are 7 previously unpublished songs by group DATA, and on B side there are 4 previously unreleased recordings by The Master Scratch Band.

The Data side opens with two unexpected “shocker” tracks: Ja Nisam Kao Ti” (eng. I am Not Like You) and “Izumi” (eng. “Inventions”) from 1981, where they sound like early Deutsch-Amerikanische Freundschaft with unusual vocal pan sound effects on Serbian lyrics and uncompromising synth-based sound. Equally unpredictable are the next two songs: atmospheric “España” and dusty “Damage In My Head,” where Zoran Jevtić boldly steps into the lead vocal role. But the surprises don’t end there. The next two songs, France and Strahovi (eng. “Fears”), bring a mysterious and nostalgic atmosphere, elevated by the irreplaceable sound of the modular Roland System-100M. At the end comes the greatest surprise of all: Data covers YMO-Ballet in a song called Ne Zelim Da Tako Zive (eng, I Don’t Want Them Living Like That) and puts some extra energy in rhythm without losing the original song’s sensibility. Like in the original, the lyrics are tender and yet mysterious and provocative.

The Master Scratch Band side contains the very first versions of the songs Break War, Jailbreak, and Computer Break, originally recorded in studio Druga Maca in Belgrade in 1983. These versions were not released on their mini-LP album Dégout (Jugoton, 1984), and they are actually the first ever hip-hop/Breakbeat recordings in Yugoslavia. With great enthusiasm, every sound was uniquely crafted from scratch using the finest analog gear available in the early ’80s. The two young artists, aiming for international success, chose to write their lyrics in English. The album’s final track, “Mad Scratch,” showcases their talent for creating impressive sound effects, which would be a delight for contemporary DJs and producers who specialize in sampling and scratching old-school hip-hop.

This release is truly a “100% digger’s gem” – 11 previously unreleased tracks from legendary pioneers of electronic, hip-hop, and breakbeat. A collection to discover, enjoy, play, and treasure forever!

Mysticisms’ Dubplate series reaches number 10 with the first in a series of specials, taking the genre blurring music of Persian and presenting updated remixes and versions by up-and-coming producers, as well as friends and family of the label.

Started as a sporadic offshoot of Mysticisms’ main releases, with the idea to highlight the wonderful sounds of dub influenced dance music, Dubplate has now become an integral part of the mission.

To start, South London’s Picasso joins the label, showcasing his declared abstract grooves and an EP of Dub and Tech House movers. While his productions aim for the dance floor, they are often characterized by complex rhythms and unconventional structures, prioritizing atmosphere and texture over traditional melodies.

Drawing inspiration from ambient, jazz, experimental influences and the heavy hand of dub, Sam “Andrews” McKay has crafted an EP of immersive “soundscapes”. Joining the legendary Persian (Peter Reilly) as co-selector, his retakes are all warped grooves, wide bass and dubby atmospherics.

Opening with Space Within Art, the street soul meets reggae rhythms are jettisoned, and a Dub House swing drives the track. The love, homage and vibration for Sound System culture remains, enchanting trippy reggae sampledelic vocals weaving in the brain.

Dunya 2 sees a shift, minds expanding. A jazz influenced breakbeat, harp, strings, building to a psychedelic swirl, driven by a dub bass in a clash, morph and glow.

The deep Digi Dub of D Dub Twist grows, warping the ‘JA riddim meets English hedonism’ in true Soundclash style. Touches of drone underlay, highlighting Sam’s experimental leaning, utilising Persian’s love of Eastern mystical samples to marry perfectly for a deep dub excursion.

The self-prescribed “odd-fellow” completes his versions, exploring his love of depth and abstract sound in closer, Jacob’s Dub. The warm roots vibrations in original form develop into a scatter gun House bumper. Dubwise, Lovers, Stepper, all merge around shuffling, trippy beats and skippy hats, Picasso’s groove is laid bare, driving the EP to finale.

Abstract the Mystery.

Yearly compilation series RADAR KEROXEN return with its sixth volume of theme-driven releases, continuing to chart the fractured sonic terrain of the Canary Islands’ undergrowth.

After digging through indie, psychedelia, shoegaze, and site-specific drone, Vol. 6 dives headfirst into the after-hours circuitry of the islas afortunadas, assembling a hand-picked selection of underground club mutations from five long-standing operators within the local electronic ecosystem.

If Vol. 5 was shaped by the cavernous resonance of Santa Cruz’s obsolete gasoline tank, Vol. 6 is fuelled by late-night club aesthetics and mid-90s hardware obsession. Opening the record, Dancelwerk — one of the archipelago’s early modular practitioners — delivers tightly wound structures nodding to Warp-era golden agefuturism and southern Tenerife’s rave boom. Cmos34 follow with their first-ever published material, injecting instability into the system through improvised techno rituals built on friction and feedback.

Jorganes drags the narrative deeper into hypnotic territory, stripping club music down to its skeletal pulse and channeling disciplined repetition and late-90s minimalism into austere, trance-inducing momentum. From Gran Canaria, Sunday German Flowers bends the mood toward cinematic dub: heavy low-end pressure, spoken word, and nocturnal atmospheres stitched into slow-burning club noir.

Closing the circle, Nico Hernández pulls the compilation back to volcanic ground with ambient compositions shaped by Lanzarote’s raw geological landscape — basalt echoes, tectonic silence, and island isolation rendered in sound.

As always, the release is housed in a post-tropical collage artwork by Pura Márquez.

Master by Daniel García
Artwork by Pura Marquéz

Kēpa is built whole, even if life has broken a few bones along the way.

Back when he was a pro skater, he gave everything to the board. Today, he gives that same intensity to the stage, delivering hypnotic cine-concerts where motion, sound, and image blur into one. The only falls left now are the ringing final chords of his guitar — not just an instrument, but an extension of his body.

Fingerpicking is his native tongue. So much so that Kēpa no longer sings — he lets the strings speak. Percussive, alive, essential. This music isn’t about performance, it’s about living: a personal quest, a way to reach others by first going inward. Moving against the current without fighting the wind. Finding breath, essence, and remembering we’re all drifting on a spinning planet, surrounded by forces bigger than us.

It’s easier to look away. Easier to follow noise, fear, or false prophets. Harder — and braver — to truly connect.

Released in late 2025, Hotline Service opened the door, offering a wide-open, spiritual escape. With SOUL WASH SERVICES— produced by Timber Timbre — Kēpa goes further. Warmer, deeper, more focused. The album feels like sunlight on asphalt, a long drive with the windows down, time slowing just enough to let something real surface.

A kindred spirit to Hermanos Gutiérrez, Kēpa plays the role of a modern, pagan preacher — guiding us through a dusty, golden road movie that unfolds entirely inside the listener. His music doesn’t shout; it cleans.

Kēpa does it all: writes, plays, films, edits, mixes. Music becomes image, image becomes music. Nothing is separate, on record or on stage. There’s no excess, no showboating — just an open invitation to slow down, go deeper, aim higher.

Tracks like Solarium and Paradisiac reach the peaks with minimal gear: five strings, a few picks, and total control of touch and space. Listening to Kēpa feels like checking in with yourself — a quiet inner trip shaped by sounds from every corner of the world. Blues, not to feel them, but to leave them behind.

After years devoted to picking, his playing has become something sacred.

And if you let it, it carries you with it.

With Dispersion, Loom & Thread return to the volatile architecture of the expanded piano trio - and quietly fracture it from within.

Daniel Klein (drums), Tobias Fröhlich (double bass) and Tom Schneider (keys, sampler) remain the sole agents on stage and in the final recording. The triangle holds. And yet, the field has expanded. For their second studio album, the trio fed their improvisations with the timbral signatures of guest saxophone and vibraphone players - not just as additional voices to be featured, but also as material to be absorbed, atomized and redistributed. The result is not augmentation but thorough refraction.

Where the debut album explored the recursive labyrinth of Schneider's live sampling of his own piano, Dispersion introduces an external grain into the feedback system. Breath and metal. Reed turbulence and struck resonance. The trio sampled extended improvisations by saxophone and vibes players: Victor Fox, Asger Nissen, Volker Heuken, and L&T's own Daniel Klein; dissected their attacks, overtones and decay curves, and integrated these fragments into the trio's internal circuitry. What emerges is a play of presences without bodies - instrumental ghosts circulating through the dense weave of rhythm and keys.

At first, one might hear the familiar relational tension: Klein's polyrhythmic elasticity interlocking with Fröhlich's tensile double bass figurations, Schneider poised at the hinge between tonal field and percussive impulse. But soon, the surface splinters - again. A vibraphone shimmer appears, yet no mallets are visible. A reed multiphonic surges through the texture, bending space between bass and drums. These events are neither quotations nor overlays; they are redistributed energies, dispersed across the trio's grammar. A digital multidimensional interplay ensues.

If the first album unfolded as a two-tiered game - live phrase and sampled reflection - Dispersion adds a further axis. The sampled materials from other improvisers are stripped of their erstwhile two-way interaction and reconstituted as malleable particles. Signifier detached from origin, resonance detached from gesture. The trio navigates a constantly shifting topology in which acoustic memory and electronic manipulation are indistinguishable.

Crucially, the album never abandons the physical urgency of three musicians reacting in real time. The additional timbral layers do not thicken the texture into opacity; rather, they introduce stark points and arrows of diffraction. Density opens into prismatic clarity. Lines splinter and regroup. What seems like a quartet or quintet collapses back into three bodies negotiating an expanded field.

Dispersion is not about addition but about distribution - of agency, of timbre, of temporal perspective. It is an album in which the trio setting becomes a site of multiplicity without surrendering its immediacy. A dissolution not only of the divide between present experience and memory, but between inside and outside, self and other.

Three musicians. Countless vectors. A music that fractures in order to cohere.

CREDITS:
Tom Schneider: piano & sampler
Tobi Fröhlich: double bass
Daniel Klein: drums & percussion

sample sources:
Victor Fox: tenor saxophone
Asger Nissen: alto saxophone
Volker Heuken: vibes
Daniel Klein: vibes

Recorded by Martin Dressler at Bauer Studios, Ludwigsburg.
Mixed & mastered by Martin Ruch.
Artwork by Viet Hoa Le.

Some years ago, Kjell Bjørgeengen and Keith Rowe attempted to convert video signals into sound by setting up Rowe’s pickups next to an old CRT monitor, turning its magnetic field into a sound generator. Rowe further developed the system with David Jones at Alfred University, slimming down the setup using a copper coil, a circuit board, a video input, and a telephone pickup. Jones named it the »Flood Coil«, and it’s that instrument you can see on the album’s front cover and that lies at the core of these recordings, made without any physical live input from the artists themselves. In essence, it’s generative music in its purest form.

Bjørgeengen’s video feed is generated by oscillators, then routed into Marhaug’s pedals and then back into the Flood Coil, so any visual shifts alter the sound, and any modification to the sound changes the video. The duo have played this setup live many times, but for this studio version they left the system to do its thing without any intervention for two minutes at a time before moving onto the next idea. They recorded hours and hours using this process and then selected 18 highlights for this album, extracting harsh noise, power electronics, lulling feedback drone, and peculiar rhythmic snippets to show the scope of their technique.

A wall of growling, hi-octane Pulse Demon-style noise opens the set, gradually exposing us to more asymmetric textures, shifting through unstable repetitions that transform Merzbow’s metal-inspired screams into »Aaltopiiri«-era rhythmic noise. It’s remarkable, actually, how much Marhaug and Bjørgeengen can squeeze from the system, chancing on shivering, lower-case chugs and pops, galloping drums, soundsystem subs, and grinding blast beats that sound like Napalm Death’s »Scum« piped through a broken amp stack. It ain’t pretty, but noise/industrial freaks will revel in the fierce delights inside.

UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.



Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.

Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.

It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.

The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.

The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.

In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”

It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”

The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.

Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.

So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.

They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.

Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.

But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.

So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!

In ,Osni the Flare", dem zweiten Teil von Tristan Allens mythischer Trilogie, zeigt der Komponist, Produzent und Puppenspieler, wie ein Sterblicher durch die Entdeckung des Feuers zu einer Gottheit wird. ,Osni the Flare" wurde über vier Jahre hinweg mit wortlosen Gesängen, Orgeln, Okarinas, einer Menge Spielzeuginstrumenten und einem ausgeklügelten Sounddesign aufgenommen und erzählt in vier akustisch und visuell beeindruckenden Akten von den Ursprüngen der Flamme und der Zeitlichkeit. Allen webt einen Schöpfungsmythos, der zwischen Schönheit, Schatten und wehmütiger Glut wechselt, und schafft so ein Portal zu einem sorgfältig gestalteten, emotional kraftvollen Klang und einer Geschichte, die durch ein fantastisches Reich hallen. Allen wurde in Saratoga Springs, New York, geboren und hat Kindheitserinnerungen an den Aufenthalt seiner Familie in Japan. Sein Weg führte ihn zu prägenden Begegnungen, darunter mit seinem Lehrer Andy Lorio, der das wachsende Interesse und Können des jungen Musikers am Klavier durch Improvisationstechniken förderte, und Amanda Palmer, die ihn mit 16 Jahren während eines Sommerprogramms am Berklee College entdeckte und seine erste Veröffentlichung durch Crowdfunding finanzierte. Nachdem er an der Berklee Klavier studiert, das Live-Elektronik-Kollektiv Nue mitbegründet, mit der Metal-Band Dent durch China getourt und zwei Solo-Klavier-EPs veröffentlicht hatte, zog Allen 2018 von Boston nach Brooklyn. Eine Anzeige auf Craigslist führte zu einer Puppenspielausbildung bei Mike Leach, der ihnen sechs Monate lang beibrachte, wie man eine Marionette richtig führt, was ihnen eine Stelle als Darsteller am renommierten Puppetworks Theater einbrachte. Diese harte Arbeit, zusammen mit dem Kontakt zu den Artefakten des Bread and Puppet Theater ihres Vaters und dem balinesischen Schattenspiel, brachte Allen zu ihrer kreativen Praxis: Komponieren für akustische Instrumente, elektronisches Arrangieren und Auftritte mit Puppenspiel. Osni the Flare erzählt einen Schöpfungsmythos, in dem die Titelfigur in einem Garten aufwacht und Äpfel von einem Baum pflückt. Von einem Loon herbeigerufen, macht sich Osni auf, den Baum vor der Kälte des Winters zu schützen. Als der Loon von einem Drachen verschlungen wird, wagt sich Osni in dessen Bauch und entdeckt dort Glut. Als er diese Glut dem Baum anbietet, entzündet sich dieser - der Ursprung des Feuers selbst. Iso, der Gott des Meeres, greift mit einer Flut ein, die Osnis Garten überschwemmt. Nach seinem Tod gelangt Osnis Seele in das Reich der Schatten, wo sie sich Tin und Iso anschließt und zur Gottheit des Feuers wird - Osni the Flare. Das Album klingt menschlicher und kindlicher als sein Vorgänger ,Tin Iso and The Dawn" und wechselt von der Perspektive der Götter als Beobachter zu der des ersten sterblichen Charakters in Allens Welt. Unterstützt durch neue Liebe, kanalisiert das Projekt Gefühle in Musik, die zu einem ganz eigenen Zauber wird. Wie Tin Iso beginnt und endet das Album mit Klavierklängen als Portal, das die Heimat repräsentiert, während Osni sich auf eine Reise durch drei Reiche begibt: das Land der Lebenden, das Zwischenreich und das Jenseits. Osni the Flare wurde fast komplett mit einem Aston-Kondensatormikrofon in Allens Wohnung in Brooklyn mit Blick auf den Cypress Hills Friedhof aufgenommen und besteht aus Spielzeugklavier und Flöten, Okarinas, Harmonium, Pumporgel, E-Bass und Kontrabass, Gadgets und einer umfangreichen Sammlung von Spieluhren und Glocken. Die Gesangsmelodie - inspiriert vom Summen seiner Partnerin Virginia Garcia Ruiz, das an Pans Labyrinth erinnert - war Allens erster Ausflug in den Gesangsbereich, wobei er eine Melodie ohne Worte verwendete, um den Zuhörern zu ermöglichen, die Protagonisten zu bleiben. Die Flöten wurden Note für Note akribisch aufgenommen, darunter balinesische Sulings, Fundstücke aus chinesischen Souvenirläden und vogelförmige Okarinas. Die Spieluhren wurden langsam aufgezogen, einzeln gesampelt und dann neu arrangiert und gestimmt, um Virginias Summen zu verdoppeln. Ein ausgedientes Casio SK-1 mit einem kaputten Lautsprecher wird mit einem Harmonium kombiniert, um Akkordtexturen zu erzeugen. Stundenlange Improvisationen, die durch Bastl Thyme und NanoVerb geleitet wurden, erzeugten lange, ausklingende Delays, wobei die besten Momente für Songs ausgewählt wurden. Feuergeräusche entstanden durch Fingernagelklicken auf Klaviertasten. Feldaufnahmen hielten das Zerlegen eines Klavieruntergestells, das Löschen von Kerzen und Geräusche aus einem Hospiz fest. Die Stimme des Drachen spricht Worte aus Allens erfundener Sprache. Die Melodie liegt oft im Bass - inspiriert von Goth und Gamelan - mit nach oben gerichteten Verzierungen. Der detailreiche Ansatz spiegelt eine Punktierung wider, die Allens Original-Artwork für das Albumcover ähnelt und durch ihre obsessive Arbeit kleine Teile zu einem großen Bild zusammenfügt - unter der Dusche, vor dem Einschlafen, mitten im Satz. Das Klavier wurde von der Toningenieurin Katie Von Schleicher bei Figure 8 Recording neu aufgenommen, gemischt wurde das Album von Paul Corley. Der technische Leiter Jim Freeman arbeitete vier Monate lang am Halsgelenk und fünf Monate lang an den Schultern der Basswood-Stabpuppe, die von Bruce Schwartz' Ballerina inspiriert ist. Freeman verbrachte Jahre damit, ein selbstgebautes LED-System zu entwickeln, um das Puppenspiel von der Bühne aus zu beleuchten, und sein unwillkürliches Pfeifen während der Arbeit wurde heimlich aufgenommen und ist im Schlussmoment zu hören. Die Herstellung der Puppen wurde von Miryam Moutillet und Lauder Weldon überwacht, die hybriden Köpfe wurden von Duygu Bayar Ekren entworfen. Seit der Veröffentlichung von Tin Iso im Jahr 2023 hat Allen in der experimentellen Puppenspiel-Community von New York City eine Heimat gefunden und wird von der Jim Henson Foundation und La MaMa unterstützt. ,Osni the Flare" steht für Tristan Allens kontinuierliche Weltgestaltung mit akribischer Kontinuität - viele bewegliche Teile, die in funkelnder Kohäsion präsentiert werden, wobei sich jede Komponente aus einer Idee entwickelt, wie eine Fantasy-Serie, die im selben Reich spielt. Das Album erreicht das, was sich Allens kindliches Ich beim Anschauen von Fantasy-Filmen vorgestellt hat: Musik, die nicht so klingt, als würden Menschen Instrumente spielen, sondern wie das Werk der fantastischen Welt selbst. Durch die Kunst des Puppenspielers, ,wahre Lügen zu erzählen", lädt Allen die Zuhörer ein, etwas Ursprüngliches und Unmittelbares zu erleben. Während Osni sich von einem Sterblichen zu einer Gottheit verwandelt, zeichnet das Album nicht nur den Ursprung des Feuers nach, sondern auch den Ursprung des Mythos selbst.