Suche:other people

It's been 10 years since Pomegranates - Nicolás Jaar's unofficial/alternative soundtrack to Sergei Parajanov's 1969 film The Color of Pomegranates - was first released, and to highlight this occasion we are reissuing the album on vinyl, with the first edition (a collaboration with the label Mana) having long been out of print.

Longer and slower-releasing than his other albums, Pomegranates often parallels the cinematic epic on which it’s based, with ideas pursued over long timelines and across dark landscapes, assembling elements and moods from the aesthetic and folkloric landscapes of Armenia. Jaar’s identity is perceived within this, folding in his heritage as Palestinian and Chilean as he attempts to build a musical architecture outwards that frames as much of the mess and sprawl of life as possible; using a language that investigates the movement and fluctuation of his own artistic career and character similarly to the film’s tracing of the coming of age of the young poet, Sayat-Nova.

At times, Pomegranates feels profoundly intimate, as though looking through the archive of a friend’s music and discovering the accent and common currency that lives within each of these tracks. Much of Jaar’s most elegant and touching melodic work is nestled here, its power residing in its simplicity and willingness to speak to the heart and not the mind of the listener.

In the text document included in the first freely distributed version of the album in 2015, Jaar writes that the album was conceived during a moment of change, and that the pomegranate became an icon that heralded that passage of time. The physical publication of Pomegranates closes one door whilst opening another, keeping promises and marking a significant point in the career of an artist who restlessly reinvents himself, with a document that illustrates a common language of lyricism, freedom, and emotional resonance linking his many paths and projects

Following a string of acclaimed collaborations, including Agua Dulce with percussionist Laura Robles and Mapambazuko alongside Congolese guitarist Titi Bakorta, Peruvian artist Alejandra Cárdenas (aka Ale Hop) returns with her most personal work to date yet, A Body Like a Home. Marking her first album under her birth name, the project is a sonic memoir exploring the tangled realms of trauma, recovery, and love through autobiographical soundscapes.
A Body Like a Home is the artist at her most exposed. Comprising 13 songs and 15 poems, the album sees her set aside collaborative fusions for solo catharsis, channeling years of turbulence - intergenerational scars left by colonialism, racism, domestic violence, and alcoholism - into a work that oscillates between brutality and tenderness. Cárdenas states: “I grew up under Alberto Fujimori’s dictatorship, when a veil of hopelessness seemed to settle over everything. This is the backdrop of the album. The songs and poems trace the inevitable loop between private wounds - addiction, domestic violence, fractured intimacy - and Peru’s national scars, carved by colonialism. It’s not a straight story or a resolution. Writing and composing became a ritual of digging for meaning, into what’s buried, disguised, or renamed, until the body itself became a living archive.
” At the heart of the album is Cárdenas’s own voice - part witness, part confessor - reciting over layers of electric guitars, electronic textures, the haunting violin of Mexican musician Gibrana Cervantes, and a collage of field recordings, from rainfall, muffled whispers, broken glass, to archival protest footage from Peru. The result is a work that resonates like a diary written in sound.
The first single, "Motherland", is a searing testimony where Cárdenas voice cracks under the weight of history and personal loss. Amid a storm of distorted guitars, she traces the cyclical legacies of colonialism, from state massacres branding Indigenous bodies as “terrorists” to the spiral of addiction as an unavoidable future. The lyrics draw parallels between political and domestic violence: a mother’s drunken knife pressed to her chest, and a motherland where racism is currency. She utters: “sacrifice demands a body.” Yet, amid the wreckage, a willful grip on love and faith persists. Ultimately, A Body Like a Home is a document of transformation. Tracks like "Evangelina" and the title piece "A Body Like a Home" hold space for resilience, spirituality, and love, while "Early Road" and "Going South" thread subtle nods to Peruvian folklore, opening up bright vignettes into a sense of belonging.
The poetry chapbook accompanying A Body Like a Home (five of its pieces are also recited on the album) extends the work, building a parallel architecture. Oscillating between the documentary and the mythic, the intimate and the forensic, the profane and the oniric, these poems practice a theology of the ordinary, where everyday objects - cameras, knives, moth-eaten cotton - are charged withspiritual and historical weight. Here, the body is land, house, battlefield, collective pain, geological territory; and trauma is, in contrast, archival, cellular, ritualistic, inherited. Read alongside the music, the stories refract across two mediums: songs give them breath and poems give them bone.

Following up a string of releases on labels such as Mana, Sun Ark, Orange Milk Records and Abyss, Other People are honoured to present the new album Fobia by Argentinian musician and sound artist aylu, real name Ailin Grad. Inspired in part of Grad's many collaborative projects over the last few years, Fobia sees her collecting and rearranging the music and sounds fostered within these to create an intimate, spiritually charged album that turns personal struggle into collective resistance and resilience. What initially started as a way for Grad to process her own experiences with agora- and claustrophobia, and an attempt to navigate feelings of shame and a perceived demand to keep these feelings bottled up and hidden from the world, she began to realise how mental health struggles are not isolated incidents but part of broader systems of collective suffering and injustice. “It took a long time for me to discover that my issues were part of a system that produces these kinds of symptoms and that it takes a lot of courage to find a way around them. I have the feeling that more and more people suffer from these kind of things in some way or another, and what was at first taught as something you should be silent about and keep private, I discovered that the more you talk about it and share it with people you trust, the more you realise that it’s part of something much bigger.” This tension and constant pull between fear and joy, light and dark, is present throughout the album. From the strained breathing featured in opening track Yodo echoing the suffocating feeling from claustrophobia interspersed with the lighter textures of Obelisco Elysium and Prospero offering up a sense of relief, to the almost cacophonous, immersive soundscapes of El Sol Mal, mirroring the complex, often contradictory emotions when navigating mental health challenges. Fobia invites listeners to move through pain with honesty, finding strength in shared experiences.

Highlighting a decade of working together as ‘Fronte Violeta’, Brazilian transdisciplinary artist Anelena Toku and musician and sound artist Carla Boregas are set to release the album ‘Fronte Violeta’, a captivating blend of aural compositions, scents and experiences.
Switching the moniker name to the album title serves as a way to showcase the culmination of their multidisciplinary project’s journey, developed from compiling fragments, sounds and intentions from their previous body of work comprising electroacoustic and electronic music composition, moving image, scent, installation and live performances.

‘Fronte Violeta’ is a sonic amalgam where synthesized sounds, percussion, voice, feathers, branches and other non-human sonorities coalesce. Toku and Boregas have skillfully woven together those elements creating a rich tapestry of interconnected sounds that tension our perception as something always in motion, never fully settling into an established form.

Collecting orders for 2024 Repress

One of the two The Other People Place releases (the Warp full length and this 12). Drexciyan involvement in this classic release is obvious. One of the deepest and intense tracks with such a warm positive vibe. Flipside contains a track by Mystic Tribe. (not very mystical of course for those who know the history of Detroit techno. Unique track from a unique project... and there are not many projects with Tribe in its name. Their release on Retroactive is one Detroit techno collector items). One of those records that get you through the day. Classic!!!
Re-issue on the Clone Aqualung Series with new artwork.

he initial seed for this project was planted in 2020 when Nicolás Jaar wrote the song “Piedras” for a concert at the Museum of Memory & Human Rights in Santiago, Chile, which commemorates the victims of human rights violations during the military dictatorship led by Augusto Pinochet between 1973 and 1990. Between 2022-2023 it took on a new form as a radio play entitled 'Archivos de Radio Piedras', which was shared on a dedicated Telegram channel. In 2024, the play was converted into a 24 channel installation at the University Museum of Mexico City (MUAC), where it was exhibited for 5 months.

Piedras 1 and 2 is a collection of the tracks featured within the play, all new music by Jaar, but partly presented within the play as the music of Salinas Hasbún (the name a composite homage to Jaar's grandmothers, Graciela Salinas and Miriam Hasbún).

The play follows two friends mourning the disappearance of Salinas Hasbún, a musician and writer who vanished in the early 2020s. Although they live in a future where technology is advanced, they
resort to DIY radio methods because the anonymous group “Las 0cho” has launched a worldwide attack on undersea internet cables, causing a global internet blackout.

The play's central theme revolves around the idea that truths, memories and identities speak from the cracks (“rasgaduras”), or the "in-between" spaces ("en el entre"). This concept is supported by the
way much of the narration unfolds - in the liminal spaces between radio frequencies. The instability and transitory nature of a constantly shifting radio dial becomes not just a metaphor but the structure of the play itself. It’s in these moments of noise, static and interference that the deeper revelations of the story emerge. This disjointed, ever-changing medium mirrors the way memory and trauma operate within the play - non-linear, slipping through the gaps, found in fragments or ordinary moments, rather than direct transmissions of “official” historical accounts.

This notion reaches its climax at the end of the narrative, when a text is discovered in which Salinas speaks of finding a new number in a small pond in a cave mentioned in the first episodes of the radio play. This pond, inside the “cochlea of the world”, is seen as a way to introduce real-life randomness to computation. Embodied in the salt lakes of northern Chile, home to the world’s oldest bacteria, this randomness disrupts the rigid order of binary code, paving the way for a transformation of digital life.

First solo release by Nicolás Jaar since 2020’s Telas and Cenizas.

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

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

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

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

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

Cassette
Earth Sounds Now is a collective made up of community activist and musician Stefan Christoff,
drummer, composer, scholar, and bandleader Asher Gamedze, music producer Nicolás Jaar, pianist
and composer Büsra Kayikçi, and novelist, poet, and sound performer Kaie Kellough.

Over 13 months, they met online to share sounds, readings, writings, and drawings, resulting in
Convergence—a project reflecting their collaborative process. Each member submitted different
works, including paintings, poetry, field recordings, and musical experiments, taking turns responding
to each other's contributions.

Member Stefan Christoff highlights the importance of listening in these sessions:
"Sometimes we would listen all together, so there was also silence on the online call as we all listened
on headphones to the sounds from our respective places. I am underlining listening here, which the
world needs much more of."

These submissions were organized into a sound library and finally mixed into record format by Jaar,
capturing the essence of their exchanges across global soundscapes.

"Songs For Other People's Weddings" ist ein Begleitalbum zum gleichnamigen Buch von Jens Lekman und dem preisgekrönten Bestsellerautor David Levithan, das am 5. August 2025 über ABRAMS erscheint. Das Projekt wurde von der überraschenden Nebenkarriere des beliebten schwedischen Künstlers als Hochzeitssänger inspiriert, die zufällig zustande kam, nachdem Fans seinen Song "If You Ever Need A Stranger (To Sing At Your Wedding)" aus dem Jahr 2004 wörtlich nahmen und ihn einluden, auf ihren Hochzeiten aufzutreten. "Songs For Other People's Weddings" ist ein fiktives Werk über J, einen unglücklich verliebten Musiker, der nebenbei als Hochzeitssänger arbeitet. J trifft sich mit Paaren vor ihrem großen Tag, um mehr über die intimen, seltsamen Dinge zu erfahren, die sie zusammengebracht haben, um einen originellen Song zu schreiben, den er ihnen auf ihrer Hochzeit vorträgt. Aber trotz Js Vorliebe, die perfekten Worte für andere zu finden, scheint er nicht in der Lage zu sein, dasselbe für seine eigene Liebe zu seiner Freundin V. zu tun. Lekman bemerkt: "Die Idee, ein erzählerisches Konzeptalbum (eine Rockoper?) zu machen, fühlte sich verboten an. Was für mich normalerweise ein Zeichen dafür ist, dass ich auf dem richtigen Weg bin. Als ich mich mit dem Genre der narrativen Konzeptalben beschäftigte, wurde mir klar, dass eines meiner Lieblingsalben, Frank Sinatras "Watertown", genau das war - eine Platte, die eine chronologische Geschichte über die Länge einer LP erzählte. Da ich nie ein Fan von Musicals oder Rockopern war, diente mir dieses Album als Inspiration. Ich schrieb das Album, während das Buch noch in Arbeit war, und an einigen Stellen begann ich mir vorzustellen, was zwischen den Kapiteln des Buches geschah. Das Buch und das Album waren schließlich miteinander verflochten, gingen aber auch ihre eigenen Wege. Das Buch gab die Struktur der Geschichte vor, aber das Album schlich sich manchmal hinter die Kulissen. Geschichten aus den Liedern fanden ihren Weg in das Buch und umgekehrt." "Songs For Other People's Weddings" folgt der Beziehung von J und V und verändert sich musikalisch, während das Paar durch die Höhen und Tiefen der Liebe navigiert - wobei jede neue Hochzeit ihren eigenen klanglichen Hintergrund bietet. Das Album ist eine orchestrale, romantische Sammlung, die sich zwischen pastoralen Streichern, verträumtem Pop, sanftem Jazz-Saxophon und traurigen House-Beats bewegt. "Die Figur des J kann seine eigenen Emotionen nicht aus seinen Liedern heraushalten, und Jens unterstreicht dies auf eine Weise, die den Hörer immer wieder überrascht", sagt Levithan. "Oft wird er von Matilda Sargren begleitet, die Vs Gefühlen und Gedanken eine Stimme gibt. Ursprünglich sollte sie nur auf den Demos singen, aber als sie anfing, V zu singen, war es keine Frage, dass sie auf dem endgültigen Album zu hören sein würde. Wenn Jens und ich unsere Arbeit getan haben, erzählen der Roman und das Album beide Seiten von Js und Vs Geschichte - und die Spannung entsteht dadurch, wie diese Seiten zusammenpassen." Lekman fügt hinzu: "Auch wenn es in dieser Geschichte um eine Beziehung geht und darum, wie sie sich in den Beziehungen und Hochzeiten anderer widerspiegelt, denke ich, dass es vor allem eine Liebesgeschichte über Musik und ihren Wert in einer Zeit ist, in der sie von Tech-Unternehmen abgewertet und in Inhalte verwandelt wird. Ihre Fähigkeit, zu beruhigen und zu verbinden und ihre Rolle in den Übergangsmomenten unseres Lebens, wie zum Beispiel bei Hochzeiten. Es ist ein Liebeslied an Liebeslieder."

"Wind, Again" is Sary Moussa’s fourth studio album and second album on Other People. Based between France and Lebanon, Moussa returns with a riveting electro-acoustic album informed by his ever-changing relationships to space, listening, and resonance as well as his growing interest in the study of harmonics in electronic and electro-acoustic music.

Years in the making, “Wind, Again” approaches distinct musical worlds and languages by bringing together improvisations by musicians performing on Western and West Asian instruments such as the Hammond organ, clarinet, saz, and buzuk with electronic arrangements and textures. Rather than force a rapprochement of these musical worlds through the instruments, and keenly aware of the weighty sonic histories they carry, Moussa proposes another way through which they can exist together in contemporary electronic composition.

Composed of six tracks, each of which demonstrate an array of recording and processing techniques, the album generates moments of tension produced by the synthesis of textural, tonal, and harmonic encounters that Moussa calls “shadows”, which outline an impressionistic musical language, existing at the edge of familiarity. Such moments permeate tracks like “Everywhere at once” and “Violence” that open with the Hammond organ and the saz respectively and slowly reveal an expansive field of sounds that showcases each of the musicians’ characteristic performances and Moussa’s densely layered textures. It is a latent yet unrelenting tension through which the composer invokes rather than represents a collective experiential state, especially familiar to those who know his environment. In “Wind, Again” these shadows are articulations of sounds steeped in traditions they are never quite tethered to. Such articulations are implied and alluded to, they play within a musical reference without the latter explicitly existing in the recording, always teetering, never completely here nor there.
Sonically and musically, the album is fueled by the cultural, social, and personal realities that Moussa was brought up and lives in.

Both personal and musical ties with the musicians who feature on the album is central to Moussa’s practice. In the title track “I will never write a song about you”, musician Julia Sabra opens with rolled piano chords, followed by Paed Conca on clarinet and Abed Kobeissy on buzuk, before Moussa’s electronic processing pieces together, lifts, and sustains the melodic direction of the track that emerged from the musicians’ separate improvisations. For Moussa: “The initial connection between the three performances was made on a track that no longer existed, the original recording was both an obstacle and necessary step for the track we hear on the record. It’s as if we were all telling different stories and I pulled on the thread that held them together”. The track, and more generally the record, is tinged with a melancholy of things lost, though it never fully succumbs to it.
“Everything inside a circle”, Moussa’s most personal track and for which he provides the only vocals on the record, harkens back to a childhood memory of listening to music with his mother in a car: “There was a sound I was looking for — a memory of a sound and how I first heard it. This track is a hybrid of that memory and what I wanted to make of it”. The track relies heavily on generativesystems and perhaps embodies most the ambiguous quality of the record’s music in its refusal to be pinned down by one musical tradition or another.
“Wind, Again” is both familiar and alien, cold and warm; it pays homage to the mechanics, materials, and tactility of the instruments and converges acoustic and synthetic spaces. What anchors the sound of the album are the elements of a whole that cannot find its own idiosyncrasy and that is precisely why Moussa’s album is a tour de force.

Delectable and on point dub techno, 'Advanced Surface Habitat' is the debut EP by French duo
Surface Access

Enxin/Onyx, the duo of Nicky Mao/Hiro Kone and Tot Onyx (formerly group A), joins Other People with their debut album "In Rupture," capturing the same mesmerizing energy for which their live sets have become known.

“In Rupture” is not painless but in rupture lies possibility. The elasticity of this time pitching us across unknown terrain, revealing new potentialities, eclipsing static being. Whether in breach, collision,shimmer or severance, Enxin/Onyx explores these as occasions for transformation. Peeling back the layers through discord and harmony, exciting the inversion of expectation, towing the listener to depths and back up again to illuminate the senses. At times metallic and feral, at others murky and sharp, each song serves as an offering for all that is in rupture; body, spirit, land, ecosystem.
The opening track “A Void” calls to mind some mutation in its mechanical ecstasy, but for what purpose remains unknown. Even in the near moments of stillness, “Needle Pierces the Threshold” breathes a forceful disquietude. Tommi’s vocals pulling the listener down into some subterranean
madness, to unravel upwards from all sides, flooding the once parched landscape. In “Embers Kissthe Eye”, all of time emerges in one moment, compelling the subject’s gaze towards a new horizon.
The album follows its subjects through exile, exhumation and discovery. Through this process plates shift, fissures are revealed and what once appeared to be indomitable absolutes crack, pointing towards their inevitable collapse. To be in rupture is regeneration, to be in rupture is to return.

Physical release of Gleemer "End of the Nail" Fort Collins, Colorado based band that mixes indie rock with dream pop and shoegaze.

Okokon returns to Other People with his sophomore album, 'Offering', delving deeper into the lush and cinematic soundscapes he first explored on his debut album, 'Turkson Side'. While primarily working in visual arts, Africanus Okokon, who records under his surname, bridges his artistic practices in 'Offering', using his masterful collage techniques to create his most personal work yet. Defying easy
categorization, the album melds influences from dream pop, avant-garde folk, psychedelia, trip hop, and dub, with traces of field recordings seamlessly blended throughout to form a cohesive whole.
'Offering' sees Okokon confronting and negotiating a sudden and unexplained death that occurred in his childhood and the complex emotions left in its aftermath, acting as his main inspiration when
making the album. This ambiguity is something that permeates throughout, with Okokon wanting to explore the ambivalence and sometimes uneasiness of contradicting emotions appearing
simultaneously, alluded to in the album title. This is also reflected in how the album tracks each inhabit different narrators with varying perspectives on the same events. The result being a hauntingly
beautiful album, with recurring themes of death, growth, sacrifice and spirituality ever present.

PATRICK HIGGINS is an American composer, guitarist, and producer from New York City, known for his work in experimental and contemporary classical music. Higgins plays guitar and composes in the band Zs, described by The New York Times as "one of the strongest avant-garde bands in New York." Heralded as a "formidable concert music composer" (Boston Globe) and "one of the most gifted guitarists working today" (The Quietus), Higgins has received attention for bridging traditions including baroque chamber music, contemporary noise, electronics and 20th century minimalism. His work has been performed in over 25 countries internationally, and he has composed works for some of the world's leading ensembles, ranging from chamber orchestra works, percussion cycles, and string quartets to smaller ensembles and soloists. He has scored works for television, museum exhibitions, and films both short-form and feature-length. Since 2013, he has operated Future-Past Studios, a recording studio in upstate NY.
He recently had a solo exhibition of artworks and sheet music, as well as two world premiers, at The Clark Museum in MA, USA. In 2019, he was a curator and headliner of the Le Guess Who festival in Holland. Higgins has performed and presented works at many of the world's largest festivals and venues across the past 12 years, including The Broad Museum (LA), The Warhol Museum, SF MOMA, Unsound Festival (Poland), Pioneer Works (NYC), Monom Berlin, Sony Ginza Park (Tokyo), ReWire (Holland), Cleveland MOCA, ICA Boston, Teatro Carignano (Torino IT), Sacrum Profanum (Kracow), Merriweather Post Pavillion, Donau Festival (Austria), Paula Cooper Gallery (NYC), Club Unit (Tokyo), Shakespeare Theater (Gdansk), The Netherlands Philharmonic Orchestra and many more.

The new album from Lebanese-American musician Solpara, Melancholy Sabotage, marks his full length debut and return to Nicolas Jaar's Other People label. While it was recorded over Covid lockdowns, Jaar had been talking about wanting to back a Solpara full-length since he put out Swing. The album came to life while Solpara was living alone in a Brooklyn loft, collecting unemployment checks and viewing ample free time as the artist residency he'd dreamed of; he'd previously been forced to make music in odd windows between numerous jobs and the unmerciful pace of city life. Free from obligations, he would wake up early to take Arabic lessons online, read Tracey Thorn's autobiography, and skateboard the deserted streets, then come home and design sounds until he had a track that felt like it needed to be released. While this easy going lifestyle was peaceful in many ways, Solpara found more complex inspiration in the emotion that stemmed from participation in Black Lives Matter protests and the 2020 Beirut Port explosion, which rocked all of his extended family members in Lebanon.

Melancholy Sabotage explores the theme of sabotaging melancholy. Echoing sounds from the post-punk, trip-hop, and ambient genres, it is about sabotaging the cycle of melancholy and looking at this process without ignoring the sources that put it into motion. It may be compared to a rattling breaking free from retention, reaching states of dreamy euphoria while simultaneously acknowledging the sources of retention, viewed from above. The sources can be personal, political, or socio-economic. They are to be apprehended post-melancholy, after the sabotaging of the initial cycle of melancholy. In other words, it is about transcending melancholy and understanding where it came from with some distance. It may be beautiful and healthy to feel for a while, but how may one sabotage this cycle when it becomes paralyzing? Ultimately, this album is about feeling melancholy but also resisting it and naming the sources that initiated it.

"Time To Hold Better" points to neglect on both personal and group levels. "This Time Last Year" is a personal time capsule. "We Keep Us Safe" is about solidarity, autonomy, and care witnessed within protest groups. "Melancholy Sabotage" is a sonic exploration of the album concept illustrating anger and sadness, but finally, resistance and liberation from these feelings. "Measures" is a more fluid exploration of the latter after the initial storm has passed. "We Don't Owe" points to bigger bodies inflicting harm on populations that we owe nothing to. "Breaking Points" harkens the times that we may lose focus while pushing to transcend melancholy. "Eviction" is about being pushed out of a space unwillingly while simultaneously being forced to move forward.

Melancholy Sabotage pulls from a range of genres, uniting electronic sounds under the same post-punky glow. It pulls from complex, heavy themes including damage and injustice, presenting Solpara's most moving body of work to date. It highlights the poignance that has always been at the heart of his fluid sound, which caters to dancefloors and avant-garde spaces in equal measure. Working with a mix of dissonant guitars, distorted drum machines, and distant, reverb-washed vocals, Melancholy Sabotage is Solpara's uneasiest outing to date. The record pinpoints the duality at the heart of Solpara's sound, which is as plaintive as it is searing.

Valentina Villarroel is a sound artist and phonographer who explores the intricate dynamics within various Southern ecosystems. Her work revolves around the profound potential of acoustic ecology, particularly in the face of encroaching real estate development on natural spaces. She also delves into the consequences of sound pollution on numerous species, contributing to their decline or disappearance. In recent years, her focus has extended to urban soundscapes and significant sonic events, such as the October 18th protest in Chile. With a solid background in bioacoustics applied to both human and animal well-being, Valentina assumes the role of co-director at AOIR Sound Laboratory. There, she spearheads an interdisciplinary initiative that centers sound as its core element. This includes the creation of the sonic cartography portal aoir.cl, as well as the development of handmade electronic devices like the Bowerbankii and the creation of various experimental microphones.

For the last seven years, sound artist, technologist, and electronic musician Moisés Horta Valenzuela (aka Hexorcismos) has been studying artificial intelligence and generative art, wondering how these new technologies might be augmented into his musical process. Born in Tijuana and currently based in Berlin, Hexorcismos has long attempted to break down the permeable borders between musical styles and expressions, using the spaces in between to reinforce his politics and worldview. And on 'MUTALISMX - becoming sonic network', he expands his vision, inviting artists from across the globe to collaborate on work that questions the biases inherent in AI models, offering a collective alternative that could serve as a blueprint for further research.

The majority of AI art at this stage works with "big data", taking ideas from the cultural canon and muddying them with our contemporary reality. But if we accept that mass culture is always politically biased, always swaying towards historical prejudices, then there must be a counter-narrative. Hexorcismos began to develop a bottom-up approach, using "small data" to interrogate his idiosyncratic approach to art; he built a tool called SEMILLA.AI based on neural audio synthesis that could not only mimic his sonic fingerprint but transform it into another. So when he offered the synth to his network of collaborators, he gave them the option of either using only their data or sharing the signatures of each other artist involved in the project, blurring their identities into a mutual voice.

The result is a compilation that unspools with the coherence and fluidity of a single-artist album or adventurous DJ mix, genreless and boundless but unified by a singular message. Hunanese-American artist Kloxii Li for example takes rugged percussion and tense, industrial ambience, smudging her soundscape into a swirling gust of ghostly dissonance. Hexorcismos himself contributes two compositions: the lengthy, hypnotic 'Acaso de veras se vive con raíz en la Tierra', an AI-powered scramble of his pointed tribal guarachero experiments; and 'Interferencias', a collaboration with Mexican club veteran Bryan Dálvez, aka El Irreal Veintiuno that drives intense dancefloor rhythms into a dense haze of frozen drones and radio static. Elsewhere, Berlin-based Lebanese artist and writer Jessika Khazrik dissolves her voice into a mesh of obscured rhythms and dissociated whirrs, blending the organic with the artificial but retaining an overpowering sense of humanity.

Some artists were drawn to the nebulous aspects of the technology, searching for truth in a soup of different sounds, while others, such as KMRU, used Hexorcismos's synthesizer the examine their output. On 'hidden options', the Kenyan sound artist fed his immense catalog into the neural net, bringing out his mannerisms and tendencies in the process. Each track is singular but myriad, prompting both mutual respect and a sonic becoming, a feedback process between the artist and the tool, the individual and the collective. Data sets are made by people, and by engaging directly with musicians, Hexorcismos suggests a new way of utilizing a technology demonized and glorified without careful examination. Each artist owns their AI model, and alongside the album Hexorcismos will release SEMILLA.AI to the public (with custom-made models to start the process), allowing anyone to access this revolutionary technology.

Even the album's artwork reflects the political message, conceptualized by Chilean duo hypereikon, who used AI processes to develop a visual reflection of the technology and its possibilities. Operating outside of academia and capitalist enterprises, MUTUALISMX proposes an alternative future - one without borders that's not beholden to the Western canon, where independent labor can be prioritized and celebrated, and where creativity can truly flourish.

Singer, songwriter and author Ali Sethi had been entranced by Jaar's music long before they began collaborating. He'd absorbed the sounds over a number of years, listening casually and taking in their subtleties in bars and rooftop parties across Lahore and London. "It felt familiar to me, that sense of adventure you have when you hear his music, like a tale that teases you and plays with your expectations as it unfolds," says Sethi. "In that sense it resembled the leisurely improvised ghazals and qawwalis I grew up hearing in Pakistan." So when the two were finally introduced by Indian visual artist Somnath Bhatt, a regular Jaar collaborator who also handled the album's artwork, Sethi was well prepared. He began to sketch out voice notes using loops snipped from Jaar's acclaimed 2020 album 'Telas', improvising vocalizations and seductive Urdu poems over Jaar's weightless, time-bending productions. Jaar was astonished by the result; "It was what 'Telas' had been missing," he explains.

Improvisation has been important to the Chilean artist for many years. Before he had even started making electronic music, Jaar jammed on accordion with friends on the street in New York City. It's at the core of his practice, "a moment in time," in his own words. 'Intiha', the opening track on the album, is the first they finished together, and positions Sethi's evocative phrases over Jaar's faded, metallic percussion. It's a perfect proof of concept, re- imagining the world of 'Telas' and augmenting it with a sense of ancestral melancholy and giddy euphoria that's truly transformational.
Sethi is best known globally for his attempts to revive the ghazal, an ancient poetic form that was taken by Sufi mystics from the Arab world to Persia and throughout the Indian subcontinent, where it captivated the royal court. It's been unfashionable in the last few decades, a mannered style associated with decadence, and Sethi offers it a new lease of life through his playfully revisionist covers and renditions. (His most popular single 'Pasoori' is a global phenomenon, one of the most Googled songs of 2022, with hundreds of millions of listeners tuning into its timeless message of forbidden love.) Sethi updates the ghazal form by using his years of training in raga music, lifting metaphors that reflect his journey as an out-of- place queer kid in Pakistan who became a US citizen and now lives in New York City.

Warp have announced a vinyl reissue of The Other People Place's Lifestyles Of The Laptop Café.

The much sought-after LP from Drexciya's James Stinson has been hard to come by for many years, and is rightly considered to be one of the very best electronic albums of all time.

Embrace have announced their eighth studio album 'How To Be A Person
Like Other People' will be released on their own Mo'betta label
Talking about the album, Richard said "Whenever we put out a new album it's
always a really big deal to us, we put everything we have into it. We know that
there's something about what we do that people love, that they just don't get from
other bands. It's like a pact, they want us to be intimate and personal and
autobiographical, but they also want us to be confident and rousing and
anthemic. It sounds like a contradiction, but I think when we're at our best we
somehow pull it off. I think in that sense this album is the most Embrace album
we've ever made".
Meanwhile the band have announced tour dates in support of the new album,
including their biggest London show in over 17 years at Brixton Academy on
Friday 9th September, a venue the band last played in 2005.
Produced and mixed by Richard McNamara at Magnetic North Studios the new
album is the follow-up to the band's 2018 Top 5 album, Love Is A Basic Need.

Dienne's 'Addio' is a 32 minute study on loss and mourning. Following the death of her grandmother due to covid, and unable to say a proper goodbye due to travel restrictions, Dienne set out to give her "Addio" through musical form. She lets objects fall, leaves windows open, and lets the wind dust off the shelves. This is the sound of everyday mourning, a taste instead of an event. A lingering, broken and patient work of undeniable beauty.

August 26th on ‘Other People’.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Second Sub Pop album by acclaimed UK act TV Priest finds them building on the
post-punk of their early material and maturing into a powerhouse of tense, politically
caustic, and thoughtful rock music.
Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made
their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were
established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their
political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy
on its wearer’s shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. “A lot of it did feel
like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length,” says vocalist Charlie
Drinkwater. “I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take
a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the
opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest.”
Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued
press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous
outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single ‘House of York’
followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to
Sub Pop for their debut album. When ‘Uppers’ arrived in the height of a global
pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its “dystopian doublespeak,”
but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic
Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of
tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the
personal and professional landmark of its release felt “both colossal and minuscule”
dampened by the inability to share it live. “It was a real gratification and really
cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental
health,” admits Drinkwater. “I wasn’t prepared, and I hadn’t necessarily expected it to
reach as many people as it did.”
As such, ‘My Other People’ maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking
advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using ‘Saintless’ (the closing
song from ‘Uppers’) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting
lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as
a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health.
“Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would
say, particularly well,” he says. “There was a lot of things that had happened to
myself and my family that were quite troubling moments. Despite that I do think the
record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders
for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in.”
“It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something
that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful,” agrees Bueth. “Brutality and frustration are
only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the
time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening.”
This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and
an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to ‘My Other People’, a
record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you’re
welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is
a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or
any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

A Collection of Sounds from the Studio Eksperymentalne Polskiego Radia (1959-2001)
Art by Zofia Kulik

"Would it sound just as bad if you played it backwards?" assembles a collection of audio experiments created at the Polish Radio Experimental Studio (PRES) from 1959 to the beginning of the millennium. These exceptional works are presented alongside images from the Polish artist Zofia Kulik, whose career reached its apogee between the late 1960s and early 70s. While PRES and Kulik remain important artifacts in the recent history of the Polish avant-garde, presenting them together in one release may not seem like an obvious choice. There are, of course, some historical intersections-he most notable being a shared interest in Polish artist and architectOskar Hansen's Open Form theory. Open Form promoted a modular theory of architecture that became a tool adapted by its users and inhabitants to ??????????????..Hansen's ideas influenced Kulik's early works and also manifested in the PRES's iconic "black room", a music studio designed by Hansen, himself, which was equipped with moveable sound panels that absorbed or reflected sounds to promote a greater, creative freedom from its users. And yet, as it usually goes, the most obvious connections are usually the most deceitful. Whereas Kulik initially followed Open Form, she later turned away from it. And as for the black room-it mostly worked in theory but not in practice. What is it then that makes the two work together?

Polish Radio Experimental Studio - PRES (Polish: Studio Eksperymentalne Polskiego Radia) was an experimental music studio in Warsaw, where electronic and utility pieces were recorded. The establishment of the Polish Radio Experimental Studio was conceived by W?odzimierz Sokorski, head of the Radio and Television Committee. Between 1952 and 1956 he was a Minister of Culture, and as a strong supporter of socialist realism he fought against any manifestations of modernity in music. The Polish Radio Experimental Studio was founded on the 15th of November 1957,1 but only in the second half of the following year was it adapted for sound production.23 It operated until 2004.4
Until 1985, for 28 years the studio was headed by its founder - Józef Patkowski - musicologist, acoustician, and the chairman of the Polish Composers' Union. The second most important person in the Studio was Krzysztof Szlifirski, an electro-acoustics engineer. Before founding the studio Józef Patkowski visited similar hubs in Cologne, Paris, Gravesono and Milan.5 Though the studio was a place where autonomous electronic pieces were recorded, this wasn't its main purpose. It was launched as a space for the creation of independent compositions, sounds illustrations for radio dramas, and soundtracks for theatre, film and dance.

Debut album by Ways Away on Other People Records. Featuring members of Samiam, Knapsack, Boysetsfire, Stick To Your Guns.

After closing the first part of Fundamental Records' experiment called Music for The Other People Place, the second part begins. This the fifth record of Music for The Other People Place Experiment 2. A special and highly limited electro / electronics project (a tribute to James Stinson), produced by different artists that will remain anonymous, if they choose to...

After closing the first part of Fundamental Records' experiment called Music for The Other People Place, the second part begins. Music for The Other People Place. Experiment 2. A special and highly limited electro / electronics project (tributed to James Stinson), produced by different artists that will remain anonymous, if they choose to...

Was hätte die unter tragischen Umständen viel zu früh verstorbene Sängerin noch für Platten machen können! Zusammenstellung von B-Seiten u.a. vom Album 'Kite', das mit Produzent Steve Lillywhite und Johnny Marr entstand, und diverse Hitsingles abwarf. U.a. mit der Smiths-Coverversion 'You Just Haven't Earned It Yet, Baby'. 'Other People's Hearts erschien in kleiner Auflage zum RSD und ist nun aufgrund der Nachfrage nochmals als 140 Gr. LP (Black Vinyl erhältlich).

After closing the first part of Fundamental Records' experiment called Music for The Other People Place, the second part begins. Music for The Other People Place. Experiment 2. A special and highly limited electro / electronics project (tributed to James Stinson), produced by different artists that will remain anonymous, if they choose to...

After closing the first part of Fundamental Records' experiment called Music for The Other People Place, the second part begins. Music for The Other People Place. Experiment 2. A special and highly limited electro / electronics project (tributed to James Stinson), produced by different artists that will remain anonymous, if they choose to...

Single 12" on Other People featuring Lydia Lunch and FKA twigs.

Sary Moussa is an electronic musician who has been active in the Beirut underground scene since 2008. He released his first full-length album Issrar in October of 2014 under the moniker radiokvm. His latest record Imbalance, finds Moussa revisiting the soundscapes of his childhood; from the echoes of political unrest, to Greek-Catholic chants, and the quiet nights of a secluded Southern village. The album combines sound design with intricate melodic arrangements to create a choir of synthesizers and noise singing in and out of sync.
In addition to his solo work, Moussa has also composed music for theatre and dance performances, short films, and museum installations.

“Bandiera Di Carta” represents the ongoing collaboration between instrument builder and composer Pierre Bastien and the
London based experimental duo Tomaga (Valentina Magaletti and Tom Relleen).
Bastien has been called a “mad musical scientist with a celebrity following” by The Guardian (UK) having collaborated with the
likes of filmmaker Pierrick Sorin, fashion designer Issey Miyake, singer and composer Robert Wyatt as well as Aphex Twin,
who released three of his albums on his label Rephlex.
Tomaga have made more than a dozen records since forming in 2014, pursuing a path of fearless experimentation and sonic
brinksmanship that has won them fans and plaudits from far and wide, including Thurston Moore, with whom they collaborated
on the CAN Project with Malcolm Mooney, Deb Goodge and others in 2017, as well as Wire, Silver Apples and Stereolab, with
whom they toured extensively in summer 2019.
The artistic collaboration between Pierre and Tomaga began with two commissions: from Fructose Festival in Dunkirk and the
revered underground festival Supersonic in Birmingham UK. Recording initially at a studio in the industrial port of Dunkirk, the
uneasy bond between borders and states seems to have been a theoretical motor to the collaborative sessions, as well as the
bleak landscape of the seaport frontier. This inspiration found further manifestation in the cover image for ‘Bandiera Di Carta’.
Resembling a white paper flag, it is, in fact, a photograph of Bastien’s paper and air sound machine installed on stage at
Teatro Carignano in Turin as part of the trio’s performance there. This charged, ambivalent image of a blank flag evokes the
transcendence of the national, a prescient visual motif that meditates on the contemporary uncertainty around notions of
national identity and borders but perhaps also a ‘carte blanche’ for the artists involved, in which they can deviate from the
confines of their usual practice into new and strange territories.
For each piece, Bastien’s unique sonic style: by turns his kinetic mechanoid motors, capriciously arrhythmic pipes, or the
peculiar susurrus of paper, creates a world in which Tomaga introduce their musical palette. Magaletti’s percussion anchors
these sometimes chaotic forces into beguiling syncopations, with Relleen’s synthesizer and organ work creating harmonic
counterpoints and interruptive provocations, to which Bastien responds with lyrical turns on prepared trumpet, rubber band, tin
foil and bass ocarina.
The results are curiously evocative of free jazz by the likes of Sun Ra or Art Ensemble of Chicago paired with the percussive
sound worlds of artists like Francis Bebey or Muslimgauze along with unique and sometimes bizarrely exotic tonal landscapes
of composers like Catherine Christer Hennix, Carl Stone, or Egisto Macchi. All three musicians seem to find space to bloom in
ways that are markedly different from their individual work and the resulting album is a strikingly original and powerfully bold
affirmation of what can happen when venturing beyond the normal in pursuit of the other.All tracks written & produced by Tomaga (Tom Relleen & Valentina Magaletti) & Pierre Bastien.
Mixed and mastered by Rashad Becker.