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Italian producer, musician, DJ, and groove architect Sam Ruffillo drops his long-awaited debut album Tipo Così on Toy Tonics – a sun-drenched, genre-blurring statement that blends classic house with Mediterranean flair, romantic funk, and tongue-in-cheek Italo vibes. Over 11 expertly crafted tracks, Ruffillo delivers a dancefloor-ready, emotionally rich LP that connects deep musicality with irresistible rhythm and light-hearted elegance.

After three acclaimed EPs and collaborations with revered artists such as Barbara Boeing, Kapote, and Fimiani, Ruffillo has firmly cemented himself as a core artist on the Berlin-based label. Known for his unmistakable signature sound — a warm mix of vintage disco, 90s house, and Italian vocals — Sam’s music has garnered widespread DJ support from tastemakers like Gerd Janson, Palms Trax, Seth Troxler, and DJ Tennis, while becoming a staple on Italian airwaves. His infectious summer anthems like Danza Organica and Perfetta Così have soundtracked countless club nights and festivals, creating a loyal following that eagerly awaited this full-length debut.

Tipo Così is the natural culmination of a musical journey that’s both playful and profound — a travel diary written in grooves, synth stabs, and melodies that feel like postcards from a parallel Mediterranean universe. The album expands and deepens Ruffillo’s world into a fully immersive experience: lush emotional chords meet tight syncopated grooves, vintage synth textures collide with irresistibly catchy pop refrains, and the boundary between sincerity and playful irony is exquisitely blurred.

Entirely written, produced, and recorded in Italy, in his beloved hometown of Bologna, the album finds Ruffillo at the helm on keys, drum machines, and production, supported by a talented cast of musicians contributing live bass, guitar, and other organic elements — further enriching his trademark fusion of electronic grooves and natural instrumentation. There’s a tactile warmth in these tracks, a hands-on feel that adds soul and depth to every beat.

This album also marks Ruffillo’s heartfelt return to singing in Italian, with standout tracks like House Tipo Così, Mi Fa Volare, Ancora, and Dentro Di Me, where romantic naïveté meets pulsing club energy in a way that feels both timeless and refreshingly new. The vocal performances add an intimate, human touch to the music, reinforcing the personal stories woven into each song. There’s poetry in the casual, a bittersweet elegance in the way the lyrics float over groove-heavy production.

Having toured extensively across Europe, Australia, Indonesia, New Zealand, and Mexico — with sets at iconic venues like Panorama Bar and festivals such as Sónar Barcelona — Ruffillo has fine-tuned much of this album in front of live audiences. The real-world testing ground infused the record with a dynamic energy and immediacy that only comes from genuine crowd interaction. These songs weren’t just made in the studio — they were lived on dancefloors around the world.

Tipo Così is not just a collection of tracks. It’s a philosophy — playful, stylish and unmistakably personal. A modern club album bursting with heartfelt emotion and sophistication. Music for dancers with taste; for lovers of beauty, rhythm, and the little imperfections that make things feel real.

But what exactly is Tipo Così? More than just a phrase, it’s a way of being. It’s about embracing elegance without effort, mixing irony with sincerity, and letting nostalgia slip into the room without taking over the party. It’s Sam Ruffillo’s signature language: relaxed, confident, meticulous yet never rigid — where a chord progression can say as much as a lyric, and every beat carries intention.

The album’s visual identity complements this vision perfectly. The artwork and promotional materials lovingly reference Italian design from the ’80s and ’90s, combining bold graphic elements with playful pop culture nods. This aesthetic mirrors Ruffillo’s music — a fusion of vintage warmth and contemporary freshness, delivered with authenticity and charm.

Sam Ruffillo belongs to a new generation of European artists who are reshaping electronic music by blending past and present, analog and digital, groove and emotion — without nostalgia or pose. His artistic universe is coherent, vibrant, and alive; a rich tapestry of sound, images, and stories that coexist with lightness, precision, and a distinctive voice.

Reflecting on his artistic journey, Sam describes music as a vital, deeply human impulse — a tribal connection to rhythm and body that has driven him since he was a teenager. His creative process balances meticulous planning with room for spontaneity, usually sparked by clear melodic ideas that evolve naturally. Collaborations with close friends, especially vocalists like Ninfa, add warmth and authenticity, exemplified in tracks like “House Tipo Così.” For Sam, music is honest self-expression — crafted for listeners who crave memorable melodies and rhythms imbued with genuine feeling.

While technical perfection is tempting, Sam prioritizes emotion, knowing that what truly resonates is the soul behind the sounds. His long-standing partnership with Toy Tonics has been key in nurturing his vision, offering a blend of creative freedom and professional support. Looking ahead, Sam Ruffillo is excited to broaden his live performances, and release new projects that continue to blend electronic grooves with organic, heartfelt sounds — maintaining the delicate balance between playful irony and sincere emotion that defines Tipo Così.




Kurzversion:
Italian DJ, producer and musician Sam Ruffillo drops his debut album Tipo Così on Toy Tonics - a sunny blend of house, funk, Italo and pop, full of groove and emotion. Written and recorded in Bologna with live instruments and Italian vocals, it’s a playful, elegant journey shaped on dancefloors worldwide. A stylish, sincere club album where nostalgia, irony and rhythm meet in perfect harmony.

- Mi Fa Volare
Road-tested across continents and now finally released, “Mi Fa Volare” channels 90s uplifting euphoria with big breakbeats, lush chords, and Italian vocals built to stick. Somewhere between balearic bliss and piano house nostalgia, it’s a feel-good club weapon made for peak-time moments - already sung back by crowds after just one listen.


- Ancora
“Ancora” is a vibrant hi-NRG track inspired by 80s Italo disco, sung entirely in Italian. It blends driving rhythms with dreamy melodies, capturing the radiant spirit of the decade. This fresh yet nostalgic song delivers euphoric vibes and timeless energy, making it a perfect fit for both dancefloors and reflective listening moments worldwide.


- Dentro Di Me
“Dentro Di Me” channels ‘90s sensuality through a fast-paced, UK house-inspired lens. Entirely in Italian, it’s a bold and contemporary dance track where hypnotic vocals meet high-energy grooves. Blending nostalgic textures with forward-thinking production, the result is a seductive and euphoric trip - equal parts emotional and club-ready.


- Amigo
“Amigo” blends Latin groove, acoustic guitar-driven rhythm, and Mediterranean flair into a warm, magnetic, cross-cultural dance anthem. Sung in Spanish and Italian, it celebrates connection, inclusivity, and the joy of moving together - whether stranger or friend. With its unstoppable rhythm and vibrant energy, it’s a feel-good track with a unifying spirit.


- Ma Sei Fuori
“Ma Sei Fuori” is a tongue-in-cheek dancefloor bomb blending raw house energy with catchy vocal phrases and a nod to classic French touch. Driven by hypnotic vocal lines and a playful attitude, it doesn’t take itself too seriously - while still proving serious club impact. Built for late-night moments, it’s bold, bouncy, and impossible to ignore.

Since 2006, listeners have been curious about the origin of the label name Italians Do It Better. Some say it's an homage to Italo Disco, others guess it's related to ancestry, but in fact it's a nod to the iconic T-shirt Madonna wears in the "Papa Don't Preach" video circa 1986.
Fast forward to a world pandemic... To encourage creativity & lift spirits, Italians Do It Better President, Megan Louise asked every artist “If you could cover your favourite Madonna song…What would it be?”

As a tribute to their label muse & the impact Madonna’s music has had on the world around us, Italians Do It Better are sharing a compilation of covers simply titled “Italians Do It Better”. One of the tracks (“Lucky Star” by Club Intl) is even produced by Max Kamins, the son of Mark Kamins, the New York DJ who helped break Madonna in the early 1980's. From the experience he says “Dance music was the soundtrack of my early childhood. Working on "Lucky Star" reconnected me not only to my father, but also reminded me that a good song is timeless".

Executive produced by Johnny Jewel, the compilation is a passport to 20 covers from the bedrooms of 19 artists across 10 different countries.

Ken Jacobs, an essential figure of avant-garde cinema, developed the »Nervous Magic Lantern« in the 1960s — a self-made apparatus containing a spinning shutter, a light source, and lenses set in a wooden frame. Hand-painted circular slides, gently moved by hand, produce flickering imagery: geometric patterns, Rorschach-like inkblots, and three-dimensional forms that seem to float beyond the screen. These hallucinatory visions challenge perception and suggest what Jacobs once called »a whole new play of appearances«.

Unlike Jacobs’ politically charged works, the »Nervous Magic Lantern« is patently abstract, examining how the brain regulates perception. For these performances, Jacobs requested »sounds of daily life« — environmental recordings that anchor the phantasmagoria in reality. Field tapes of Chinatown streets, conversations, and other uncategorisable sounds became the material for Aki Onda’s sonic compositions, adding narrative resonance to the abstract visuals and creating an almost documentary dimension.

This album documents a performance of »Nervous Magic Lantern« at Spiral Hall, organised by Sound Live Tokyo on November 3, 2015. Jacobs’ selection and sequencing of slides offered improvisatory space, mirrored by Onda’s flexible arrangement of cassette recordings. The result is a work where life and art dissolve into one another — a soundtrack for life in the depth of illusion.

Music by Aki Onda Cassette field recordings by Ken Jacobs

Marja Ahti is a Swedish artist living in Turku, Finland. She works with found sounds, objects and electronics, creating auditory assemblages that reveal a profound sensitivity to sound’s tactile potential. This new record sees her palette expand to include more recognisable acoustic instrumentation, albeit working in collaboration with musicians who are already reconfiguring how those instruments can sound.

Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth has its roots in a tape piece presented at Lampo in Chicago. Ahti then started working with Isak Hedtjärn (clarinet), Ryan Packard (percussion) and My Hellgren (cello) at the electronic music studios (EMS) in Stockholm. Incorporating recordings from those sessions, Ahti presented a new iteration of the work at the Seventh Edition Festival for Other Music in February 2024 with the trio performing live on stage whilst Ahti helmed the mixing desk, spatialising a specially made tape part through the INA GRM’s Acousmonium speaker orchestra. The piece has since gone through several further iterations before arriving at the version we have here on the LP's B-side where immense bass pressure and high frequency tones buffer restless amplified breath and scrape that folds over itself with extraordinary dynamics and subterranean activity before giving way to gorgeous resonant forms and passages of ritual purpose and sheer, unmistakeable beauty.

The A-side is Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth’s gentle double. Still Life with Poppies, Mirror and Two Clouds offers a companion reconfiguration of Ahti’s resynthesised percussion sustain and the same recordings of Hedtjärn and Hellgren from EMS, but here they’re nestled in a sonic landscape of calm and restraint that gives them a wholly other character. Ahti also draws on older recordings she’d made of Sholto Dobie’s diy pipe organs and uses these to create repeating patterns and flourishes of sliding pitches that emerge unexpected out of cycling passages of Ahti’s clear struck metal, destabilising electronic interventions and minimal piano figures.

Marja Ahti: “I’ve been fascinated with the kind of elemental quality the sounds I'm using have such as airy sounds or earthy, wooden sounds. These qualities can also be found in wind instruments and percussion and the musicians I worked with on Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth are really good at enhancing these qualities in their playing. I wanted to have this connection between found sounds, field recordings, or pre-recorded sounds, objects, and material, and see where these sounds might meet each other, and hopefully blend is a natural way without a divide between instrumental music, or acoustic music, or electronic music. But also, when you bring in people they come with their personalities and their ideas which is also energizing and brings surprising things into the collaboration that I couldn't come up with myself. I was really interested in making this a proper collaboration and not just coming up with the piece and giving it to them. We had the sessions at EMS where we could share ideas and Isak, Ryan and My could bring in their own ideas. Making recordings there gave me time to process these ideas and to also approach them in the same way that I would work with any other sound.”

A“This album is about what it means to be human, and its creation is my offering. I attempt to tell a tale of the human experience in the reflection of my own.”

‘In the Andean mythology, condors are believed to be immortal. It is said that once they feel old, without energy, and useless, they climb to the highest peak and let themselves fall to death.’

The Allegorist is a visionary, enigmatic, transmedia, and boundary-pushing artist known for crafting deep, immersive dark sonic tales. Embracing a wide array of influences, weaving together the mysteries, art and spirituality, the art project defies categorisation, resonating with those who seek the unconventional.

From Birth Until Death is an introspective and immersive concept album that reflects on the essence of the human experience. Crafted over six years by The Allegorist (aka Anna Jordan), the album traces the arc of life—from its fragile beginnings to its inevitable end—using sound art to explore existential and philosophical terrain. Inspired by the Andean mythology of the condor – a symbol of immortality – the album blends electronic soundscapes with raw field recordings, evoking a deep sense of connection between the natural world and human existence.

The album’s progression mirrors the stages of life, starting with the birth of new beginnings and culminating in death, with each track offering a unique reflection on the moments in between. From the dynamic energy of Momentum, to the ethereal, illusionary world of Fata Morgana, the tracks guide the listener through emotions, perceptions, and experiences that shape the human condition.

A distinctive feature of From Birth Until Death is its intricate production. The album incorporates field recordings from Grunewald Forest, a distant roar of a jet, barking dogs, blending the sounds of nature – footsteps in the snow, birdsong, ocean waves – with layered synthesisers and electronic beats. The bass and ambient textures are crafted using an array of analog hardware, while all vocals, both lead and backing, are performed and recorded by Jordan. Some of the vocal takes were intentionally left raw, capturing the spontaneous energy of early recordings, while others were re-recorded to balance the album’s organic yet polished feel. Each element is meticulously crafted, revealing its deeper meaning as the album unfolds like a multidimensional, living sculpture.

At its core, From Birth Until Death is a meditation on the full spectrum of life. The album’s title track, From Birth Until Death, encapsulates this journey, reflecting on the passage of time and the unique experience of being human. The final track, Death, offers a melancholic yet beautiful exploration of endings, not as finalities, but as moments in the grand cycle of life. With its combination of evocative sound design and deeply personal themes, From Birth Until Death invites listeners to contemplate their own lives, offering a moving experience of reflection, growth, and transformation.

About From Birth Until Death
Words By Robin Rimbaud (Scanner)

From Birth Until Death is a deeply personal and reflective album and beautifully crafted. A detailed listen reveals that Jordan was in search of a profoundly human and authentic expression. In an era when so much around us seems defined by speed, Anna Jordan, aka The Allegorist, stands apart – aware that skimming the surface of life is neither sufficient nor rewarding. She reminds us of the value of deep, authentic listening.

The track Andean Condor seductively draws us into a smoky, blurred rhythmic soundscape, capturing the essence of the darkest Berlin nightclub, while Birth pulses with an almost shamanic transformation of sound, moving from the organic to the musical. It features a recording of Jordan’s footsteps in the snow in Grunewald Forest, Germany.

At times, the music feels almost sculptural in shape and tone – lifting, pushing, lilting, opening, and closing – where each piece is given room to fully develop. Many of the works blend synthetic sound with the natural, incorporating the human voice alongside environmental recordings: the wild waves of the ocean, a jet flying overhead, and barking dogs.

With From Birth Until Death, Jordan, like an alchemical architect revealing in the process of getting lost and relinquishing control, leaves us with a taut, immersive soundtrack in which to lose ourselves.

About the album ‘From Birth Until Death’
words by The Allegorist

“The album From Birth Until Death did not come easily to me. I started working on it in 2019, and it underwent many alterations over the years. I produced multiple versions of the tracks each year, but the album name, the track titles, and the album cover art stayed the same for 6 years. Not everything I did fit into the album’s final form, but I hope the heavy selection just made it better. I played this piece live in my techno live set between 2019 and 2020, and in the years after, I performed different art, ambient, and vocal versions of it, most notably the one at the church St. Marienkirche in Berlin in 2022. It just wanted to live and didn’t want to be finished. As I aged, this album aged with me. And now I’m ready to let it go.”

This 2-LP set brings together both volumes of Fred Steiner and The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra’s recordings of music from the original Star Trek TV series, featuring score cues from classic episodes like The Trouble With Tribbles, By Any Other Name, The Doomsday Machine, and many more. Pressed on Translucent Clear vinyl, the set comes in a gatefold jacket featuring brand-new art from acclaimed illustrator Malachi Ward.

White & Black Smash Vinyl. Drab Majesty's third album, Modern Mirror, is a journey of self-reflection, nostalgia, love, beauty, and heartbreak told across eight addictive and emotional synth pop anthems - a seemingly classic tale delivered unblinkingly through the frame of the modern world. Elements of classic tragedy weigh heavily in the reflection of Modern Mirror in songs like "The Other Side", possessing a fundamental sound that is energetic, luminous and hopeful. Fusing the sonic aesthetics of predecessors like New Order and The Cure within the cautious instruction of Greek mythology and modern science fiction, Drab Majesty has birthed a hybrid of dreamy malaise, captured for a future moment. The first single, "Ellipsis", romantically plays up the distorted concept of courting through modern technology in a world that has yet to adapt, while on "Long Division", Deb's resounding guitar cascades around the chorus shared with No Joy frontwoman Jasamine White-Gluz, wistfully warning us against our vanity and self-obsession. Even when hope for everlasting love peeks through in "Oxytocin", a sparkling and stoic track sung by Mona D., we are firmly reminded our fleeting existence. Produced by Josh Eustis (Telefon Tel Aviv) with appearances by Jasamine White-Gluz (No Joy) and Justin Meldal-Johnson (NIN, Beck, M83, Air).

For her second full-length as Plume Girl, Sowmya Somanath crafts a space where boundaries of language, feeling, and sound start to dissolve. ‘Unnameable Glory’ ruminates on the limits of expression, and the luminous freedom that emerges when we let go of the need to name. Elaborating on the exploratory songs of her debut, Plume Girl continues to bring together Hindustani classical improvisation, ambient soundscapes, and experimental pop.

Somanath’s voice—from gentle murmur to radiant call—guides the listener through dreamlike arrangements: sunrise guitar arpeggios, humming choirs, heartbeat kickdrums, and synths tremble. Elsewhere field sounds and old family recordings are collaged, a woman’s giggle transposed into a piano melody, a sloshing body of water mirrored by synth bleeps. Plume Girl conjures moments of revelation, drawing from the natural beauty and intuition, that unnameable glory.

Is there a divinity or a wholeness that exists beyond language, belief, or tradition? Unnameable Glory both celebrates and gently challenges the notion: Can we honour the creative richness of culture while also seeing through the divisions it creates? Can we meet the world—and each other—without assumption, without fear, with eyes made new? In these songs, the sacred is found not in grand gestures, but in the anonymous freedom of simply being: the iridescence of oil and water on a street, the smile of a stranger, the hush that settles by a creek.

At the heart of the album is a sense of curiosity and surrender—a willingness to listen without judgment, to let the moment be unnameable, to allow wonder to arise and dissolve. And yet, as Somanath notes, there’s an impulse to capture that’s tough to ignore; a need to replicate and remember. Unnameable Glory dwells in this tension: between holding and letting go, between the urge to define and the beauty of what cannot be contained. There is a quiet, revolutionary joy in simply living and sensing together. Music becomes a meeting place for the whole, the holy, and the unnamable.

New Environments & Rhythm Studies finds Andrew Pekler returning to the humid zones he explored on previous albums such as Sounds From Phantom Islands and Tristes Tropiques. Split between longer immersive compositions and shorter glimpse-like sketches, these 12 tracks feature new juxtapositions of Pekler's familiar palette of synthetic field recordings, warm, undulating electronic textures, shifting percussion patterns and serene melodies.

As with much of his recent work, Pekler's compositions here are structured around the beguiling effect of synthetic and non-synthetic sounds mirroring, mimicking and modulating one another. The teeming atmospheres within tracks such as Globestructures, Cymbals In The Mist or Globestructures: Option II are, despite their seemingly anthropogenic nature, entirely synthetic. Elsewhere, the lopsided grooves of Cumbia Para Los Grillos or Fabulation For K are derived from recordings of crickets and other insects which Pekler loops and uses to trigger electronic percussion – producing a pleasantly skewed rhythmic base for the fragments of melody which are layered on top. The six Rhythm Studies also follow the same principle – a playful interweaving of the organic and synthetic.

New Environments & Rhythm Studies is a further attempt to re-describe past tropes which laid claims to authentically represent music and sound from beyond the Western world (exotica, ethnomusicology, field recording) as undertakings of the imaginary.

Written and produced by Andrew Pekler, mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi, artwork by Morgan Cuinet, graphic design by Dmytro Nikolaienko.

Glasgow-based Effective Dreaming—the solo project of Scottish artist and musician Iain Ross—unveils Dream Catalogue Vol. 1, arriving June 21st, 2025 (Summer Solstice) via Swedish experimental label Fluere Tapes.

Issued as a limited run of 50 cassettes, each adorned with hand-worked, corroded copper sheet inserts and labels, Dream Catalogue Vol. 1 feels less like a release and more like an unearthed artefact: weathered, humming, quietly alive. The materials echo the music’s exploration of fragile impermanence and erosion: oxidised metal, magnetic tape, hiss, hum. A tactile world where sound wears its decay like a patina.

Across its length, the album unfolds in a series of flickering vignettes—drifting, dissolving, reappearing. Shaped by synths, environmental recordings, tape loops, and soft drones, the pieces move like glints of light on water—never fixed, always in motion. Achingly beautiful melodies rise and vanish, tracing fragile pathways through a landscape of shifting sensations. Some moments glow with a gentle warmth, like sunlit glass or breath on a fogged mirror. Others slip into shadow: slow, submerged passages feel closer to memory than music. The album feels loose and weightless, yet dense with feeling—a presence more sensed than held.

There is no fixed narrative here—only fragments and artefacts, half-remembered places, echoes of dreams. Each track hovers just at the edge of clarity, evoking not specific stories, but moods, textures, and the quiet drift of time. It’s music that feels both intimate and remote, like overhearing a distant signal only you can understand.

The name Effective Dreaming is drawn from Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Lathe of Heaven, where a dreamer's visions alter the very fabric of reality—past and present reshaped, histories rewritten, unnoticed by all but the dreamer himself. In a similar spirit, Ross’s music inhabits a space where memory, perception, and matter blur—where each sound carries the residue of something once real, now transformed and dissolving as one drifts through the seams of the world.

Dream Catalogue Vol. 1 is a meditation on texture, transience, and the quiet resonance of what slips away.

For listeners of: Wave Temples, Dolphins Into the Future, Guenther Schlienz"

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce Spilla, the second album from Nantes-based Ensemble Nist-Nah, 48 minutes of music for Gamelan, drum kits, wood and metal percussion instruments, and plucked strings that will surely count as one of the most electrifying records you hear this year. Founded by the Australian drummer/percussionist Will Guthrie in 2019, continuing the explorations begun in solo form on Nist-Nah (Black Truffle, 2020), the ensemble (eight or nine core members with occasional guests) has been consistently active in the half-decade since: composing, rehearsing, recording and touring Europe (with a mass of equipment in tow) to great acclaim. Spilla tracks the continuing evolution of the project since the recording of their first album, Elders (Black Truffle, 2022). The two sides of this record document two different iterations of the group, and the members' compositional input has increased: each side contains one piece by a member other than Guthrie. It has become clearer than ever that Ensemble Nist-Nah is not an attempt at a European Gamelan ensemble but rather a hybrid percussion ensemble that uses instruments from a Javanese Gamelan alongside other percussion to perform original music informed by a variety of South East Asian music but also by everything from free jazz to contemporary hip-hop: while Nist-Nah and Elders both featured traditional Javanese pieces, on Spilla the only tune not generated by a member of the group is by Guthrie’s long-time musical hero and occasional collaborator Roscoe Mitchell.

The two short pieces that open the record could almost be the two sides of a wild 7” selected to show off what the Ensemble can do. On opener ‘Gerak Maju’, intricately skittering open-snare patterns bounce over clanging metal, chiming bell-like tones and deep gong hits, adapting the rhythm-register connections heard in traditional Gamelan musics—where the lowest pitched sounds are heard least frequently—to a cut-up breakbeat straight off Feed Me Weird Things. ‘Strollabout’ then moves into an entirely different realm of meditative repeating patterns, performed entirely on Chinese, Javanese and Vietnamese gongs. The remaining seven pieces, ranging from three to twelve minutes, offer up a wealth of different percussive, compositional and arrangement possibilities. On ‘Ghostly Klang’, two drumkits mirror each other’s moves, bouncing hats and snares across the stereo field in a way that recalls On the Corner and the jittering hi hat patterns of trap, while slow moving melodies on the tuned instruments add a sense of majesty contrasted by scurrying details in resonant wood. The epic closing track presents a take on Roscoe Mitchell’s ‘Uncle’, performed by the Art Ensemble of Chicago on their classic Urban Bushmen live album. Where the Art Ensemble used Mitchell’s dirge-like melody as a jumping off point for virtuosic improvisational flights, Ensemble Nist-Nah rethink the piece as a near-static dialogue between the monumental, slow-moving sequence of unison tuned percussion notes and a textural cloud that grows in richness and intensity from whispering cymbal rolls into a mass of gong overtones and bowed metal.

Beautifully recorded and mixed, Spilla arrives in a sleeve decorated with core member Charles Dubois’ drawings of cymbals and gongs. Against the backdrop of a wider musical landscape dominated by over-produced electronic slop and bland harmonic wallpaper, Ensemble Nist-Nah stands out as a reminder, vital and unpretentious, of the joys and possibilities of human beings playing instruments together.

Repress of 2018’s classic compilation from Brownswood.

A primer on London’s bright-burning young jazz scene, this new compilation brings together a collection of some of its sharpest talents. A set of nine newly-recorded tracks, We Out Here captures a moment where genre markers matter less than raw, focused energy. Looking at the album’s running order, it could easily serve as a name-checking exercise for some of London’s most-tipped and hardworking bands of the past couple of years. Recorded across three long, fruitful days in a North West London studio, the crossover between each of the groups speaks to the close-knit circles which make up the scene.

Surveying the way that London’s jazz-influenced music had spread outside of its usual spaces in recent years, this album bottles up some of the vital ideas emanating from that burgeoning movement. Giving a platform to a scene where mutual cooperation and a DIY spirit are second-nature, it’s a window into the wide-eyed future of London’s musical underground.

Ubiquitous, much-lauded saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings is the project’s musical director. His own recent projects span from South Africa-connected, spiritually-minded jazz players Shabaka and the Ancestors to Sons of Kemet, who match diasporically-connected compositions with viscerally-direct live shows. His entry on the album, ‘Black Skin, Black Masks’, is typically difficult-to-define: with an off-kilter, shifting rhythmic backbone, repeated phrases – mirrored between clarinet and bass clarinet – shape the track with an alluring hue. His input ties together a deft, genre-agnostic sensibility that’s shared through all the players on the record.

Theon Cross – who’s also part of Sons of Kemet with Hutchings – starts his track, ‘Brockley’, with the solo, distinctive low rumble of his tuba. Winding and mesmeric, it sees tuba and sax lines winding together in rhythmic and melodic parallels. Ezra Collective – whose drummer and bandleader Femi Koleoso has toured with Pharaohe Monch – run a tight, Afrobeat-tipped rhythm on ‘Pure Shade’, with the final third changing gear into a melodic, momentous closing stretch.

Joe Armon-Jones, whose ludicrous chops on the piano have seen him touring with the likes of Ata Kak, showcases earworm-like, insistent motifs on ‘Go See’, balanced with a playful, improvisatory approach with room for ad-libbing and solos a-plenty. Taking a softer tact than many of the other entries, Kokoroko – whose guitarist Oscar Jerome has been making waves with his solo material – spin a lyrical, steady-paced meditation on ‘Abusey Junction’, matching chanted vocals with gently-played guitar.

Nodding to spiritual jazz influences, Maisha’s ‘Inside The Acorn’ is a wandering, explorative rumination, balancing delicate washes of piano and percussion with sharp interplay between flute and bass clarinet. In contrast, Nubya Garcia’s ‘Once’ is taut and carefully-poised, her tenor sax guiding a carefully-built energy to an explosive conclusion. And finally, Triforce’s ‘Walls’ is a performance in two parts: starting with Mansur Brown’s languorous, lyrical guitar, the second half switches up to a low-slung, g-funk-tipped groove.

"JPEGMAFIA, a trailblazing force in experimental hip hop, releases his latest solo project, I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU. This album, his first since 2021, is a complex and innovative work that showcases his meticulous production skills. Featuring collaborations with Denzel Curry, Vince Staples, and Buzzy Lee, the album explores themes like capitalism, conscription, and propaganda through some of JPEGMAFIA’s most anarchic raps to date. The release is accompanied by an extensive global tour, reinforcing his status as one of the genre’s most incendiary talents. Since his last solo release, JPEGMAFIA has continued to push boundaries in the music industry, most notably with his 2023 collaboration with Danny Brown on Scaring the Hoes, which garnered critical acclaim and chart success. With I Lay Down My Life for You, JPEGMAFIA cements his reputation as a visionary artist, delivering a powerful commentary on the world through his unique lens. The album’s release is set to make a significant impact, both in stores and on stages worldwide."

"Max Knouse’s voice feels like laughter that follows a well-loved joke. Only afterward, it dawns on you that you don’t fully understand the punchline. Or for that matter the set up. In fact, you’re not even sure what language the joke was told in. What to make of such a laugh—inexplicable, delightful, surprising, seemingly nonsensical? And what to make his voice, at once comforting, beguiling, and just beyond the bounds, like a blues moan or a Mingus lick or some ancient guttural holler? It’s the kind of haunt that lingers long after the record fades, echoing back in your imagination, laden with cryptic possibilities and occulted meanings.

Chipmunk’d Away is his third album. Known for his sessions and live shows with artists like Califone, Jolie Holland, Adan Jodorowsky, Psychic Temple, Simon Joyner, Alex Dupree, and others, Knouse has established himself as an essential factor in the West Coast indie pop underground, brandishing guitar chops that mirror the rawness of his voice; he treats his instrument like a divining rod of spiritual tension and joyful racket, pushing and pulling on it with affection and sometimes something darker.

From the swelling cosmic folk of “Mint and Tobacco,” which features Knouse intoning apocalyptically over engineer Michael Krassner’s washing guitars, “Your breathing ain’t so deep,” to the jazz standard swooner-meets-West Coast psych-pop title track, to the nightmare-scape blues of “Clumsy Hunter,” to the concluding audio collage sway of “Banana, Orange, and Something Else,” Chipmunk’d presents the range and scope of Knouse’s style: bold, adventurous, frightening, and then frequently, when you least expect it, heartbreakingly lovely, like a joke that clarifies your feelings before you could actually verbalize what those feelings even are. They had been hidden from you, chipmunk’d away, but now Max Knouse has revealed them."

Âsan’s self-released Beychen EP is a raw odyssey through the chaos and catharsis of creation. Across four relentless tracks, the producer mirrors the turmoil of nearly losing their passion for music—only to rediscover it by dismantling old habits and surrendering to the unknown. What emerges is a vortex of psychedelic techno, where layered rhythms spiral into the deep-down and morphing soundscapes warp time itself.
The title track Beychen channels the claustrophobic unease of a creative block with its brainmelting progression, only to erupt in a complete loss of control and, therefore, relief. The other three tracks deliver visceral techno in similar fashion, each piece evolving like an own entity with hypnotic force. This is music for darkened rooms and muddy forest stages, where the dancefloor becomes a mirror for Âsan’s internal reckoning. Here, the anxiety of creation is not conquered, but alchemized.
Âsan, a New York-based producer and co-founder of the label Cellar Door, always chases a certain feeling in his work—an elusive sensation that guides his creative journey. For him, dancing begins in the head, as rhythms and soundscapes take shape in a space between thought and intuition. His music invites listeners to step into that headspace, where the body follows the mind’s spiraling patterns.

CHIME OBLIVION began out of the blue. David Barbarossa reached out to John Dwyer saying he was a fan of OSEES and he was invited to a show in London. The two hung out and hit it off, "then I rabbit holed on Bow wow wow too…," Dwyer recalls. "I reached out to David and suggested that we try and write some songs together... I flew David out, we met at my studio and spent five days writing basin drums ideas." The two got to know each other and had a lot of laughs. Dwyer then brought in Weasel Walter, knowing that he would be perfect "to add all that legitimate old-school weird proto-punk no wave guitar scratch to it, which of course he did masterfully." Next came Tom Dolas to play fuzzy marimba, and the fabulous H.L. Nelly, "as I knew her from a record I’d put out back in the day for a band called Naked Lights from Oakland. I knew that she could pull off the vocal style I had in mind." Together, the group created their debut self-titled album, due for release via Deathgod on April 18th. CHIME OBLIVION will be released as a 45 rpm 12" vinyl, CD & on digital. They're sharing the first taste of the album today, in the form of lead single, "NEIGHBORHOOD DOG." "For fans of Adam & the Ants, Bow Wow Wow, Crass, The Slits, and any other wierdo punk we fell in love with as youths." CHIME OBLIVION is due for release on April 18th via Deathgod.

CHIME OBLIVION began out of the blue. David Barbarossa reached out to John Dwyer saying he was a fan of OSEES and he was invited to a show in London. The two hung out and hit it off, "then I rabbit holed on Bow wow wow too…," Dwyer recalls. "I reached out to David and suggested that we try and write some songs together... I flew David out, we met at my studio and spent five days writing basin drums ideas." The two got to know each other and had a lot of laughs. Dwyer then brought in Weasel Walter, knowing that he would be perfect "to add all that legitimate old-school weird proto-punk no wave guitar scratch to it, which of course he did masterfully." Next came Tom Dolas to play fuzzy marimba, and the fabulous H.L. Nelly, "as I knew her from a record I’d put out back in the day for a band called Naked Lights from Oakland. I knew that she could pull off the vocal style I had in mind." Together, the group created their debut self-titled album, due for release via Deathgod on April 18th. CHIME OBLIVION will be released as a 45 rpm 12" vinyl, CD & on digital. They're sharing the first taste of the album today, in the form of lead single, "NEIGHBORHOOD DOG." "For fans of Adam & the Ants, Bow Wow Wow, Crass, The Slits, and any other wierdo punk we fell in love with as youths." CHIME OBLIVION is due for release on April 18th via Deathgod.

Almost Like You Could ignites its art punk fire with Lucy Alexander proclaiming, “Everyone wants something to talk about / But not a minute to spare, so be brief.” Not surprising from a song that’s 1:54 (‘Higher’), but the raw honesty in her lyrics ring far after the music ends. Alexander, along with bandmate Luke Cartledge, place the propulsive power of their beliefs at the core of their debut full-length album, and their guiding motivation towards social justice is as fierce as it is welcoming. “Living as part of the queer community, and being queer myself, leads me towards supporting every person’s truth,” Alexander says. Scrounge’s songs skip to a fast beat, electrifying the entire album with a sense of empowerment. Their approach is OG punk: they make music for their peers and themselves. Only now, with a world of connections possible, they’re able to open arms wide for a far-reaching embrace. Alexander’s rich vocals give their sound its central force, anchoring the songs with confessional lines (“If this is the pinnacle, then I need a miracle/ Cause everyone’s laughing at me,” “There’s not much left/ this corpse I have to keep/ Above board.”). They sing about economic inequality, political corruption, environmental destruction, and collective change. “We’re inspired by those around us, and we write about what we care about. Art has always existed for us as a means of catharsis, a way of expressing something we might not be able to otherwise, and we hope our music can be that for other people too,” says Alexander. “I think I’ve actually written a filthy banger,” she states while re-listening to “Buzz/Cut”, a grunge-honoring hammer of a song that takes a journey from disappointment, to self-realization, to release. Alexander and Cartledge’s gratification in making an album they’re proud of mirrors the empowerment conveyed in their lyrics. A follow-up to debut mini-album Sugar, Daddy (Fierce Panda, 2022), Almost Like You Could came together over 18 months, in between “teaching, touring, graduation, and a wedding”, as Lucy explains, for the band always has a handful of shows coming up. It’s a strange outcome for a duo who first bonded over their mutual love of SOPHIE. “She radicalized the structure of sound, and revealed herself through it,” Cartledge explains. “That was a massive inspiration when we started playing together, stripping everything away to open up new possibilities as artists and as people." Having already toured Europe and the States, Scrounge is preparing to be on the road throughout 2025. In a world where the idea of true community is ephemeral, Lucy and Luke seek to foster it everywhere they play. And their belief in change is ultimately buoyed by hope. “I know that it’s never been this good,” they sing.

Elori Saxl's soundtrack for the VR film Texada is an exploration of the smallness of human existence within the grand scope of geologic time, mirroring the film's exploration of Texada Island's limestone-rich landscape. Saxl, inspired by her own experiences of island life on Madeline Island, assembled a soundscape that captures both the vastness of Earth's ancient processes and the intimate moments of human existence. Using analog synthesizers, baritone saxophone (performed by Henry Solomon), and processed field recordings of water and rocks, she created ambient layers that evoke cycles, waves, and the transformative forces of nature. The score begins with an exploration of Earth's origins and the emptiness of a rocky planet before life emerged. This foundation grows into pieces like "The Quarry," where the central geological feature, limestone, takes on a dynamic presence. As loops and rumbling textures evoke the rise and movement of stone over millennia, as abstracted creatures spiral upwards, full of life. The album concludes with "The Most Special Place," which serves as a final bridge between the cosmic and the intimate, leaving a lasting impression of how deeply human lives are intertwined with the ancient geology beneath our feet. Saxl's compositional process itself mirrors the themes of transformation and cycles. Working with limited time and resources, she recorded Solomon's saxophone parts early in the project, later repurposing fragments through re-pitching, stretching, and digital effects. As she explains, "I experimented with bringing out the human character of the saxophone by highlighting breath and imperfections while also pushing it into an alien/unrecognizable/bigger world through digital processing and effects." The result is a soundtrack that feels both organic and otherworldly, capturing the grand scope of Earth's timeline while remaining grounded in human emotion and connection.

Fraufraulein, the San Francisco duo of Billy Gomberg and Andy Guthrie, are master world builders. Their work is immersive — it wraps around you like a warm coat, guiding you deep into a trance-like state. Time moves in slow circles, folds in on itself, and unspools like caught fishing line. It’s tempting to say Guthrie and Gomberg construct a new reality with their work, but I think they’re revealing the contours of familiar territory, gluing together a complicated mirror more than constructing a quotidian diorama. Their music reflects a truth that we all share in some way. It’s the pauses between thoughts, the little observations that color a day, the beauty of how others’ lives imbricate for brief moments before pulling apart completely. Fraufraulein’s music feels beamed from inner space, the soft parts of our consciousness that glow like a flashlight beneath fingertips.

It’s also tempting to call Greater Honeyguide, the duo’s new record — and first in four years — a tool for fostering presence. Each composition can serve as a meditative space, and observing the quietly unfurling layers of sound — a footfall and a quiet breath, scraps of overlapping melodies sung like notes to self, synthesizers droning lightly in the distance — can be a very calming, grounding experience. But I also love to let these pieces guide me through the sulci of my brain like a slot canyon, emerging at some long-forgotten memory or idea. Think of it as a passively-active experience, like looking out of a train window, watching the scenery blur together. At the end of the album’s 37 minutes, I feel transformed. Not necessarily different, just in tune with something else. Something beyond. Something within.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.

The Crystal Hum is the debut vinyl release by Taiwan-based artist Yuching Huang and her first release for Night School.
A beguiling dreamscape of crackles, spluttering, love-struck Casios presided over by the the spectral vocal and guitar work of Huang, Yuching sings love songs at the end of this world and the beginning of the next. Recorded during a hiatus from her group Aemong (a duo with artist Henrique Uba) in Berlin, these songs elevate Huang’s unique vocal style and grasp of atmospherics. The Crystal Hum deconstructs balladry, Garage, guitar music and reforms it into a
unified ghostly otherworld version of these languages.

The Crystal Hum thrums with buried desire, trails of nocturnal reverb seeping out of apartment windows, diaristic vocal performances and deeply emotive, evocative Western-style strings. Formulated by Yuching Huang after periods of frustration and experimentation, the album is an exercise in minimalism and paring back, with some tracks like JohnJohn featuring little else than an elastic bass, spring reverb trails, an interjecting vocal and swelling, dislocated synths. The effect is spellbinding, the soundtrack to getting lost in the labyrinthine, closed streets of Venice, Taipei, Hong Kong, or mirror versions of them in the imagination.

On opener Fly! Little Black Thing, a subterranean funk bassline roots Huang’s singing, a rudimentary, unreliable beat floundering in whimsy underneath. Demure, dream Dance music, Huang references classic lo fi experimenters Suicide and Arthur Russell as well as Night School label mates The Space Lady and Ela Orleans. In fact, after the release of Aemong’s third album Crimson, Huang credits the direction of The Crystal Hum to being enchanted by The Space Lady’s Greatest Hits,
the landmark lo-fi recording made by Susan Dietrich Schneider in 1990. The new, minimalist approach to her sound world reveals and shrouds in equal measure. On the heart-melter Love, a sultry mid-tempo Casio + bass backing drops into the ether with Huang’s vocal swimming in preternatural void before emerging anew, in awe at the world. Every chord change heralds new perspectives, every guitar flurry swells and drips emotion, nothing is wasted and space billows out from between the grooves.
Huang never reveals more than necessary, making this an in-between love album: the right amount of mystery and darkened mirror shines wanely on The Crystal Hum while remaining fragile and vulnerable in the sweet spots. Turning over in pillowing smoke and night in the dark corners, Huang sings in both Mandarin and English. The songs speak of earthly matters seemingly at the edge of dissipating into nothing. Distorted, beguiling Sambas warble like sweating dancehalls in an imagined Lynchian 60s, as on Thoughts. Closer You, An Illusion warps a classic 60s Girlgroup bassline beloved of the likes of Les Rallizes

Denudes into a slight ballad on the edge of the void, held back by the teary-eyed, wistful and enveloping vocal cooed by Huang. Each song feels like a love song dedicated to the bits between worlds, between beats, the negative space between people where desires, feelings and loss hangs in the air, resolute and unresolved.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

eaturing pieces for tenor saxophone and digital keyboard, and accented by traces of additional instruments, these songs sound a fated exchange mutually effortless and expansive. On »Greyhound Days« Patrick Shiroishi and Piotr Kurek makinespace for each other’s distinct voices as much as their eloquently mirrored gestures, sharing their attraction to intuitive expressions and the simple tenderness of first takes.

Because of their mix of hellified gangster shit and progressive compositions, I once jokingly called Clipping "Deathrow Tull." Well, it's not a joke anymore. While Clipping's last few projects have been record-long concepts like classic prog rock, their cyberpunk-infused new album Dead Channel Sky is mixtape-like, a carefully curated collection in which every track is a love letter to a possible present. It sounds crisp and classic at the same time. When something strikes us as retrospective and futuristic at the same time, it's a reminder of how slipshod our present moment truly is. Juxtaposing high-tech, corporate command-and-control systems (the "cyber") with the lo-fi, D.I.Y. underground (the "punk"), cyberpunk proper starts in 1982 and ends in 1999, from Blade Runner to The Matrix. Concurrently, hip-hop matured, went through its Golden Era, then melted into further forms: it went from from Fab 5 Freddy to Public Enemy to Missy Elliott. While other genres flirted with it, hip-hop was fickle and fey. Rap and rock birthed mutant offspring maligned by most, and hip-hop's relations with electronica rarely fared any better. What if someone explicitly merged hip-hop and cyberpunk - those twin suns of the '80s and '90s - into one set and sound? After all, both movements are the result of hacking the haunted leftovers of a war-torn culture that's long since moved on. On Dead Channel Sky, Clipping texture-map the twin histories of hip-hop and cyberpunk onto an alternate present where Rammellzee and Bambaataa are the superheroes of old; where Cybotron and Mantronix are the reigning legends; where Egyptian Lover and Freestyle are debated endlessly, and Ultramag and Public Enemy are the undeniable forefathers; where the lost movements of 1980s and the 1990s are still happening: rave, trip-hop, hip-house, acid house, drum & bass, big beat-the detritus of a different timeline, the survivors of armed audio warfare. Clipping are no strangers to sci-fi: two of their records were nominated for Hugo Awards (one of science fiction's top literary prizes), and a novella spun-off from their music was nominated for a third. On Dead Channel Sky, Clipping's co-conspirators include everyone from the guitarist Nels Cline, to their labelmates Cartel Madras, rapper/actor Tia Nomore, and wordsmith Aesop Rock. Diggs is known for intricate lyrics and rapid-fire rapping, and the tracks that Snipes and Hutson build in the background are no less complex. All of the above serves to give us a glimpse of an adjacent possible present, where hip-hop and cyberpunk are one culture. Binary stars are often perceived as one object when viewed with the naked eye. Like those twin sun systems, it'll take some special equipment and some discerning attention to pull the stars apart on this record. As Diggs barks on the fire-starting "Change the Channel": Everything is very important!

Blasé is a French-American pop artist, composer, arranger, producer, singer and author. Since his childhood and adolescence in New York, he experimented, mixed together 70s rock, electronic music, disco and hiphop, to create a sound that will take him directly to Paris with his first band Haute, with Anna Majidson. A first hit will be born, «Shut Me Down», whose session Colors accumulates more than 30 million views on YouTube.

After this first success, and following numerous collaborations with various artists such as Agoria, DJ Pone, Lala&ce, Niro or Jwles, he found his musical signature and started solo. The UFO Blasé released his first EP «Why Blasé? » in 2023 on Record Makers label, a unique fusion of Chic, The Strokes and Manu Chao.

Blasé releases his first album «BLABLABLA» in 2025, an album that stands as a personal manifesto of his sound obsessions that open almost as many tracks: 15 original titles in search of the groove.

With his educated ears to the radio and charts across the Atlantic, he honors this generous vision of pop that encompasses old-school hip-hop, R&B, jazz, funk, disco and new-wave, and navigates between different styles in the manner of American artists. Some songs are in French while others are in English, featuring singer Anna Majidson, rapper Jwles, and the late American artist Cola Boyy. So we go on «BLABLABLA» from a studio haunted by Quincy Jones to a cellar where he rehearses The Cure of «Boys Don’t Cry».

Repress!

In the latest of a series of albums that have mirrored the exceptional story of the band itself, Cornershop return with a new album ‘England Is A Garden’ on March 6th 2020 on Ample Play Records. It is an album that strides in an upbeat fashion, to deliver a full listening experience, bringing songs of experience, empire, protest and humour, steeped in the way only Tjinder Singh would come with. Listen to a first taste of the album now, ‘No Rock: Save In Roll’, that is to say that there is not one without the other, that rock, for all its focus on death is the saviour of life. The anvil here is music itself, and a celebration of Tjinder’s birth place - The Black Country, which also gave birth to heavy metal that has gone on to influence the world to dirty rock, whether the streets are lined with pylons or palm trees, the Black Country has allowed us to see things differently. So the sound here goes back to Englands’ Midlands with two thumbs up to the feeling of hearing heavy metal from the back of a stage, as we all ride on and await the female backing vocals of our song to come in.

"Every night we've been listening to RATTLE. They have a stark yet deep trance percussion vibe that is both holistic and rocking." Thurston Moore
“Quietly dramatic and loudly intimate.” The Quietus
“Two drum sets. Two voices. One great idea.” MOJO
Rattle are Katharine Eira Brown and Theresa Wrigley, they formed in 2011 after meeting on the live circuit whilst both playing in other bands. Katharine was a guitarist who had recently started playing drums in the band Kogumaza, whilst Theresa was the drummer in Nottingham band Fists. They’ve since released two long-players, 2016’s self-titled debut album Rattle (Upset The Rhythm / I Own You) and 2018’s Sequence (Upset The Rhythm) to much critical acclaim in the music press, and with James Acaster discussing the debut on his BBC Sounds podcast Perfect Sounds!
Rattle have honed the four songs that make up ‘Encircle’ by playing them live over the last few years, adapting and stretching them into endlessly inventive new shapes, playing with the concept of time and expectation. ‘Encircle’ was recorded at Foel Studios, Wales, produced and mixed by Mark Jasper, and mastered at Liminal Audio by Shaun Crook. The stunningly colourful artwork was created by Martha Glazzard, who was also responsible for Rattle’s other mesmeric covers.
‘All Burning’ opens the album, a live favourite of cyclical tumbling and evolving wordplay. ‘All Burning’ was built up gradually layer by layer with Theresa’s cumulative snare work and Katherine’s urgent calls for action: “hold your doctor, hold your daughter, hold your horses”. If ‘All Burning’ represents fire, then it’s accompanying 12-minute long track on Side 1, ‘Argot’, is informed by the air. ‘Argot’ is a song about uncertainty, with Katherine singing wordlessly across the majority of the track. “I prefer to sing wordlessly often because it feels a bit more expressive and universal” asserts Katherine. The track feels truly epic with a satisfying release that comes with the eventual introduction of the bass drum and snappy hi-hat section.

Side 2 also pairs a shorter song with a long-form composition. ‘Ritual’ is worked up from a simple snare drum pattern which becomes more and more overlapped into an elliptical form of waltz. Katherine considers ‘Ritual’ as “very earthy song - lots of low lying mist on the ground swirling around and the drums coming together to summon something”! ‘Ritual’ was inspired by a visit to the ruins of Boleskine House so multi-dimensional themes and occult practice loom large. ‘Your Move’ is a step-up gear change with the band wanting it to feel like the tape had suddenly started to spin faster, urging movement, venturing action. Clocking in at over 15 minutes, ‘Your Move’, is mesmeric and boundless, hypnotic in its minimalism of doubled-drums and almost tribal vocal cycles.
With ‘Encircle’ Rattle have grown again, these songs are alive with elemental power. They build-up and disintegrate, existing in two places at once, embracing the nuance, tracing the circle’s edge. These are modes of song as pure gesture and eternal imagination, refined in mirrors after midnight.
Rattle has performed at The Barbican, London and toured the UK with Animal Collective and Thurston Moore Group and Europe with The Julie Ruin and Protomartyr, and performed with Hot Snakes, Bill Orcutt Quartetand Codeine.

"Every night we've been listening to RATTLE. They have a stark yet deep trance percussion vibe that is both holistic and rocking." Thurston Moore
“Quietly dramatic and loudly intimate.” The Quietus
“Two drum sets. Two voices. One great idea.” MOJO
Rattle are Katharine Eira Brown and Theresa Wrigley, they formed in 2011 after meeting on the live circuit whilst both playing in other bands. Katharine was a guitarist who had recently started playing drums in the band Kogumaza, whilst Theresa was the drummer in Nottingham band Fists. They’ve since released two long-players, 2016’s self-titled debut album Rattle (Upset The Rhythm / I Own You) and 2018’s Sequence (Upset The Rhythm) to much critical acclaim in the music press, and with James Acaster discussing the debut on his BBC Sounds podcast Perfect Sounds!
Rattle have honed the four songs that make up ‘Encircle’ by playing them live over the last few years, adapting and stretching them into endlessly inventive new shapes, playing with the concept of time and expectation. ‘Encircle’ was recorded at Foel Studios, Wales, produced and mixed by Mark Jasper, and mastered at Liminal Audio by Shaun Crook. The stunningly colourful artwork was created by Martha Glazzard, who was also responsible for Rattle’s other mesmeric covers.
‘All Burning’ opens the album, a live favourite of cyclical tumbling and evolving wordplay. ‘All Burning’ was built up gradually layer by layer with Theresa’s cumulative snare work and Katherine’s urgent calls for action: “hold your doctor, hold your daughter, hold your horses”. If ‘All Burning’ represents fire, then it’s accompanying 12-minute long track on Side 1, ‘Argot’, is informed by the air. ‘Argot’ is a song about uncertainty, with Katherine singing wordlessly across the majority of the track. “I prefer to sing wordlessly often because it feels a bit more expressive and universal” asserts Katherine. The track feels truly epic with a satisfying release that comes with the eventual introduction of the bass drum and snappy hi-hat section.

Side 2 also pairs a shorter song with a long-form composition. ‘Ritual’ is worked up from a simple snare drum pattern which becomes more and more overlapped into an elliptical form of waltz. Katherine considers ‘Ritual’ as “very earthy song - lots of low lying mist on the ground swirling around and the drums coming together to summon something”! ‘Ritual’ was inspired by a visit to the ruins of Boleskine House so multi-dimensional themes and occult practice loom large. ‘Your Move’ is a step-up gear change with the band wanting it to feel like the tape had suddenly started to spin faster, urging movement, venturing action. Clocking in at over 15 minutes, ‘Your Move’, is mesmeric and boundless, hypnotic in its minimalism of doubled-drums and almost tribal vocal cycles.
With ‘Encircle’ Rattle have grown again, these songs are alive with elemental power. They build-up and disintegrate, existing in two places at once, embracing the nuance, tracing the circle’s edge. These are modes of song as pure gesture and eternal imagination, refined in mirrors after midnight.
Rattle has performed at The Barbican, London and toured the UK with Animal Collective and Thurston Moore Group and Europe with The Julie Ruin and Protomartyr, and performed with Hot Snakes, Bill Orcutt Quartetand Codeine.

Tradition shapes your work. For saxophonist and bandleader Shabaka Hutchings, that's something he's long understood. After years spent in the orbit of London's jazz circuit, he examines and reimagines his influences with a dexterity that's unique. Drawing out the vision underlying his new album, he says, I see energy as being a form of wisdom to be passed down through the ages.'

Unpicking the album's title, he continues, "When we study the music, the lives, the words of our master musicians we obtain a glimpse of that artist's essential energy source. This is the core vitality of the individual which leads them to utilise the musical specifics of their chosen genre in a way that mirrors their inner source of power. This is an intuited wisdom that's handed to us from the legacies of our elders.

The album is a document of sessions combining Hutchings with a group of South African jazz musicians he's long admired. His connection to the group was Mandla Mlangeni (bandleader of the Amandla Freedom Ensemble), whom he'd flown there to play with over the past few years. Recorded across just one day, the group drew on their South African lineage - heroes like Zim Ngquwana and Bheki Mseleku - to bring their own slant to the American jazz lineage which is reconfigured in Hutchings' compositions themselves.

Going beyond the jazz greats Hutchings cites, influences are drawn from plenty of other sources: Caribbean calypso, central African song structures and Southern African Nguni music all play a part. Bringing together those ideas with the contributions of his bandmates is, he explains, crucial to what he sees in the role of an album artist. Even though I wrote all the music, for me, the leader of the project isn't the person who writes all the music but the one who has a vision for how certain musical elements will be combined."

A regular sight on stages around London and beyond, playing - and often leading - groups like The Comet Is Coming, Sons of Kemet and Melt Yourself Down, he's part of a generation whose idea of jazz is pointedly unrefined. That's to say, Wisdom of the Elders comes from an artist interested in the indefinable gaps more than fitting into boxes.

So 2020 was going to be the year of Van Weezer -- the big riffs rock album Weezer made as an homage to the metal bands they loved growing up -- until, thanks to the global pandemic, it suddenly wasn't. The entire time, however, Weezer frontman Rivers Cuomo was busy at the piano, writing a very different album that referenced another vital musical touchstone of his youth: The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds.



Throughout the summer of Covid-19, he and the band -- along with a 38 piece orchestra -- chipped away at masked recording sessions until the record was complete. The result is an album called OK Human -- a cheeky nod to Radiohead's technophobic future-trip OK Computer, but sounding nothing at all like that record. Taking the listener bit by bit through parts of Cuomo's every day, it's a Technicolor symphonic spree that meditates on how over-and-under-connected we all are, particularly in a year where we can see each other with greater ease, but actually can't physically be near each other at all.





OK Human is also packed to the brim with some of the best, most personal songs Cuomo has written in the last decade, all of which shine brighter and bolder with splashes of string and horn arrangements courtesy of album producer Jake Sinclair and arranger Rob Mathes. It's hard to imagine any other band who came up in the alt haze of the 90s creating a simply perfect orchestral pop album, but that is exactly what Weezer's done; OK Human is a testament to the excellent, enduring melodies Cuomo has written since Weezer's inception, and the ones he continues to write today.

The duality of "man" is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your "true self" & what do they want? With their sixth studio album "Wish Defense" (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album "Negative Houses" was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band's more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik's original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group's guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band's dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio's long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on "Wish Defense" revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles", tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album's title track; "Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance". Case lays out the entire album's theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that "other" person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is "_don't let the bastards get you down, there's something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good". "Wish Defense"s artwork is also a subtle reference to "Negative Houses"' art, returning to that album's black & white starkness & minimalism. The album's checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album's lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; "Wish Defense" is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve's untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio's A room, off the tape, using Albini's notes about the session.

The duality of "man" is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your "true self" & what do they want? With their sixth studio album "Wish Defense" (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album "Negative Houses" was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band's more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik's original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group's guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band's dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio's long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on "Wish Defense" revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles", tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album's title track; "Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance". Case lays out the entire album's theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that "other" person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is "_don't let the bastards get you down, there's something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good". "Wish Defense"s artwork is also a subtle reference to "Negative Houses"' art, returning to that album's black & white starkness & minimalism. The album's checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album's lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; "Wish Defense" is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve's untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio's A room, off the tape, using Albini's notes about the session.

The duality of "man" is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your "true self" & what do they want? With their sixth studio album "Wish Defense" (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album "Negative Houses" was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band's more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik's original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group's guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band's dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio's long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on "Wish Defense" revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles", tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album's title track; "Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance". Case lays out the entire album's theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that "other" person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is "_don't let the bastards get you down, there's something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good". "Wish Defense"s artwork is also a subtle reference to "Negative Houses"' art, returning to that album's black & white starkness & minimalism. The album's checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album's lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; "Wish Defense" is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve's untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio's A room, off the tape, using Albini's notes about the session.

Limited Indies “white split vinyl variant while supplies last. RIYL: Unwound, MBV, The Jesus Lizard, SUUNS, Preoccupations, METZ, Les Rallizes Denudes, The Dead C, Echo & The Bunnymen, Liars, This Heat, PIL. Sixth studio album from the Chicago trio. Features newly-rejoined original member Jonathan Van Herik. Recorded at Electrical Audio May 6 & 7, 2024 - final album recorded by Steve Albini. The duality of “man” is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your “true self” & what do they want? With their sixth studio album “Wish Defense” (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album “Negative Houses” was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band’s more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik’s original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group’s guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band’s dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio’s long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on “Wish Defense” revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles”, tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album’s title track; “Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance”. Case lays out the entire album’s theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that “other” person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is “...don’t let the bastards get you down, there’s something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good”. “Wish Defense”s artwork is also a subtle reference to “Negative Houses”’ art, returning to that album’s black & white starkness & minimalism. The album’s checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album’s lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; “Wish Defense” is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve’s untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio’s A room, off the tape, using Albini’s notes about the session.

Limited Indies “white split vinyl variant while supplies last. RIYL: Unwound, MBV, The Jesus Lizard, SUUNS, Preoccupations, METZ, Les Rallizes Denudes, The Dead C, Echo & The Bunnymen, Liars, This Heat, PIL. Sixth studio album from the Chicago trio. Features newly-rejoined original member Jonathan Van Herik. Recorded at Electrical Audio May 6 & 7, 2024 - final album recorded by Steve Albini. The duality of “man” is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your “true self” & what do they want? With their sixth studio album “Wish Defense” (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album “Negative Houses” was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band’s more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik’s original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group’s guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band’s dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio’s long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on “Wish Defense” revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles”, tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album’s title track; “Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance”. Case lays out the entire album’s theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that “other” person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is “...don’t let the bastards get you down, there’s something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good”. “Wish Defense”s artwork is also a subtle reference to “Negative Houses”’ art, returning to that album’s black & white starkness & minimalism. The album’s checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album’s lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; “Wish Defense” is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve’s untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio’s A room, off the tape, using Albini’s notes about the session.

Limited Indies “white split vinyl variant while supplies last. RIYL: Unwound, MBV, The Jesus Lizard, SUUNS, Preoccupations, METZ, Les Rallizes Denudes, The Dead C, Echo & The Bunnymen, Liars, This Heat, PIL. Sixth studio album from the Chicago trio. Features newly-rejoined original member Jonathan Van Herik. Recorded at Electrical Audio May 6 & 7, 2024 - final album recorded by Steve Albini. The duality of “man” is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your “true self” & what do they want? With their sixth studio album “Wish Defense” (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album “Negative Houses” was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band’s more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik’s original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group’s guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band’s dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio’s long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on “Wish Defense” revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles”, tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album’s title track; “Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance”. Case lays out the entire album’s theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that “other” person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is “...don’t let the bastards get you down, there’s something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good”. “Wish Defense”s artwork is also a subtle reference to “Negative Houses”’ art, returning to that album’s black & white starkness & minimalism. The album’s checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album’s lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; “Wish Defense” is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve’s untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio’s A room, off the tape, using Albini’s notes about the session.

The long-awaited new full-length from legendary electronic pioneers THE ORB with cover design from iconic graphic wizards THE DESIGNERS REPUBLIC • A fascinating sonic journey over four epic tracks, constantly switching between psychedelic flourishes and beat-driven focus

Veritable pioneers of electronic music, iconic act THE ORB returns to Kompakt with the new full-length MOONBUILDING 2703 AD - another major slice of psychedelic synth bliss, obscure loops and deep ambient textures tossed in swinging breakbeats and powerful basslines. Installing a forward momentum rather unusual for a genre-defying project like this, the latest effort from masterminds Alex Paterson and Thomas Fehlmann follows their 2005 album success on Kompakt, the cheekily named "Okie Dokie It's The Orb On Kompakt" (KOMPAKT CD 45), as well as several contributions to our Speicher and Pop Ambient series - but more importantly, it finds the legendary duo at the peak of its creativity, ringing in another essential phase in what can only be called a ground-breaking career.

True to form, the new offering MOONBUILDING 2703 AD features a small track list, but turns each one of its four cuts into a mini epic in its own right. Opener GOD'S MIRRORBALL hits the ground floating, employing a handful of cozy statics to great effect before finally discharging into an intricate mosaic of atmospheric melodic sketches and gripping rhythms. With a hypnotic runtime of more than 14 minutes, it immediately establishes a blueprint for the other album tracks to follow, perfectly illustrating the vast extent of the artists' vision and their impressive skills in luring in listeners - welcome to THE ORB's sonic labyrinth, where nothing is what it seems and the unexpected waits just around the corner.

Likewise, follow-up track MOONSCAPES 2703 BC presents itself as a uniquely versatile affair sitting comfortably between ambient flourishes and beat-driven focus, holding as many twists and turns as a caper movie, but carefully grounding every single one of its cliffhangers in its impeccable flow. With a runtime of approximately 9 minutes, LUNAR CAVES is the shortest jam of the bunch - and also the most ethereal, keeping its rhythmic content to a bare, pulse-like minimum and opting for enticing, freewheeling synth textures instead. Album closer and title cut MOONBUILDING 2703 AD introduces a surprisingly jazzy vibe mingling rather well with the wealth of electronic tricks up its sleeve - even indulging in abrasive bass sweeps and a breathtaking multitude of different rhythm sections constantly switching places. It's a fitting closing act for a full-length as multifaceted as this, as idiosyncratic as possible and as muscling as needed.


• Das langerwartete neue Album der legendären Elektronikpioniere THE ORB mit einem Coverdesign der gefeierten Graphikschmiede THE DESIGNERS REBUBLIC • Eine faszinierende Klangreise über vier epische Tracks hinweg, permanent zwischen psychedelischen Schlüsselreizen und beatgetriebenem Fokus changierend

Mit THE ORB kehren echte Pioniere der elektronischen Musik zu Kompakt zurück - der Langspieler MOONBUILDING 2703 AD präsentiert erneut einen grossen Wurf in Richtung psychedelischen Synthie-Segens, obskurer Loops und porentiefer Ambient-Texturen, geschwenkt in schwungvollen Breakbeats und wirkmächtigen Basslines. Mit einem für genresprengende Projekte wie diesem hier eher unüblichen Vorwärtsdrang beerbt das neue Album von den Großmeistern Alex Paterson und Thomas Fehlmann ihren 2005er Erfolg auf Kompakt, das augenzwinkernd benannte "Okie Dokie It's The Orb On Kompakt" (KOMPAKT CD 45), sowie einige Beiträge zu unseren Speicher- und Pop-Ambient-Serien - viel wichtiger allerdings, daß wir das legendäre Duo auf der Höhe ihrer Schaffenskraft antreffen, eine neue wesentliche Phase einläutend in einer Laufbahn, die nur als bahnbrechend bezeichnet werden kann.

In bekannter Manier hat das neue Werk MOONBUILDING 2703 AD eine eher kleine Tracklist vorzuweisen, baut dafür aber jeden seiner vier Tracks zu Mini-Epen von eigenem Recht um. Der Eröffnungsakt GOD'S MIRRORBALL schwebt einem da vor Ohren, zuerst nur mit einer Handvoll gemütlichen Rauschens bewaffnet, später dann in ein feingliedriges Mosaik von atmosphärischen Melodieskizzen und mitreissenden Rhythmen explodierend. Mit einer hypnotisierenden Lauflänge von über 14 Minuten etabliert das Stück die Blaupause für die folgenden Ereignisse, perfekt die enorme Reichweite der künstlerischen Vision und ihre Fähigkeit zur massenhaften Verführung nichtsahnender Tänzer illustrierend - willkommen in THE ORB's Klanglabyrinth, wo nichts ist wie es scheint und das Unerwartete um jede Ecke lauert.

Ähnlich präsentiert sich der Folgetrack MOONSCAPES 2703 BC als einzigartig vielseitige Angelegenheit, bequem zwischen ambienten Ornamenten und beatgetriebenem Fokus sitzend und mit sovielen Drehungen und Wendungen wie ein Gaunerfilm - doch stets seine Cliffhanger im makellosen Flow erdend. Ein wenig über 9 Minuten lang, ist LUNAR CAVES der kürzeste Entwurf in der Gruppe - und auch der ätherischste, hält er doch die Rhythmusanteile auf einem puls-ähnlichem Minimum und optiert stattdessen für freilaufende Synthie-Texturen. Das letzte Kapitel des Albums schließlich ist auch der Titeltrack: MOONBUILDING 2703 AD besitzt eine überraschend jazzige Note, die sich ziemlich gut in den Reichtum an elektronischen Tricks einfügt, welche hier aus dem Ärmel geschüttelt werden - sogar in rauem Bass schwelgend und eine atemberaubende Vielfalt an Rhythmussektionen aufrufend, die ständig die Plätze tauschen. Es ist ein passender Abschluss für ein derart facettenreiches Album, so idiosynkratisch wie möglich und so anschiebend wie nötig.