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Following on from last year’s acclaimed Sylva Sylvarum, the epic double LP from Ora Clementi (her collaborative project with James Rushford), crys cole returns to Black Truffle with Other Meetings. Originally commissioned and released on cassette by Boomkat Editions in 2021, Other Meetings is a major addition to the body of carefully hewn solo work cole has released over the last decade, offering up two side-long suites of her radically intimate approach to sound. After many years dominated by touring and travel, cole found herself in lockdown in her Berlin apartment, working in a limited space with minimal equipment. Digging through archives of recordings taken overseas and exploring the sonic potential hidden in the objects surrounding her (including a coffee pot and a vase of dying flowers), she crafted what in her liner notes she calls ‘an internal dérive, a journey that drifted through many places without a defining compass’. Totalling over 50 minutes, the two pieces unfold at an unhurried pace, each containing four individually titled subsections. Beginning with a sequence of the highly amplified small sounds characteristic of much of cole’s work, the opening moments of ‘The time between two durations of sleep’ are underpinned by a gentle rocking motion, weaving together contact mic crunch, metallic resonance, glimpses of bird song, and isolated drum machine hits, the sonic space expanding and contracting as focus moves between elements. Briefly side-lined by a tactile but unplaceable sizzling, this complex weave of voices then returns in a kind of dubbed-out ‘version’, the percussive accents echoing around the stereo space. In one of the record’s most beautiful and unexpected moments, these sounds are joined by a sparse melodic line performed on a broken 1980s digital synth, the vaguely New Age timbres being taken on a long, tonally ambiguous wander. Cole’s immersion in memories of travel comes to the fore in the final section of the first side, titled ‘Wat Paknam’ after a royal temple in Bangkok, where snatches of voices, ringing bells and distant waves of chanting blur together with synth tones into an increasingly abstracted wave of sound. The second side, ‘Slices of cake’, opens in a similarly hallucinatory outdoor space of echoing bird song and liquified traffic before abruptly zooming in on a microscopic world of subtly processed and highly amplified objects, explored with a starkness and quiet insistence that calls to mind the fringe not-quite-concrète of outsiders like Paul A.R. Timmermans or Knud Viktor, whose obsessive interrogation of dripping water might also serve as a point of reference for the following sub-section, the aptly titled ‘magischer Abfluss’ (magic drain).

While Other Meetings develops many aspects of cole’s previous work – the hyper-magnification of small gestures, the unsettling edits and fades partly inspired by hypnagogic states, the location recordings smeared into oneiric haze – it is almost as if these pieces are somehow songs, the remnants of an evaporated music of which nothing remains except isolated hits from a synthetic drum, a handful of notes, or simply a duration of emptied atmosphere. Radically reductive yet deeply musical, Other Meetings is a major work from an artist driven by an uncompromising and idiosyncratic vision.

Presented with an inner sleeve with photos and liner notes from the composer and remastered audio.

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.

To commemorate the songwriting, production and performing genius of Allen Toussaint (1938 - 2015) Charly are proud to present a limited edition 7-inch EP containing some of his most famous and well-loved songs. Issued on limited edition "whipped cream” white vinyl, the picture sleeve EP features the classics ‘Whipped Cream’ by The Stokes (later a worldwide hit performed by Herb Alpert's Tijuana Brass), ‘Here Come The Girls’ by Ernie K. Doe, ‘Working In The Coal Mine’ by Lee Dorsey and ‘Fortune Teller’ by Benny Spellman, all written by the unique and irreplaceable Allen Toussaint. He will be missed...

AOTN proudly present a new solo outing from long time friend & contributor to Athens of the North, Other Lands aka Gavin L.Sutherland.

Channelling his considerable improvisational skills to evoke notions of island life, his concept was to create something that could work equally well in the wilds of the Western Isles as in the sunnier spots of the world that we all yearned to escape to at that time. The more he played with this idea of groups of islands, of archipelagos the world over, the more it also became about people themselves experiencing isolation as individuals, while still feeling a sense of togetherness with others in the same boat.

Working a little at home but mainly here at Athens of the North studios, he would come in each day over the course of a few weeks and just hit record, playing at times almost without mind. Sometimes the mood would call for keys, strings, or drums through delays for days and days. Often, the music would happen by chance as much as by design. One rule he tried to adhere to was to not overthink things, capturing moments honestly with minimal editing or digital processing.

What we've ended up with is a beautiful, spontaneous, timeless and honest meditation on what it is to be at once both alone and part of a larger whole.

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’.

A multi-layered kaleidoscopic musical ride that will take you to places no other soundtrack has ever taken you before. Uplifting latin funk, melancholic chanson, dark synth drone, biguine punk, acid techno and a few absolutely indescribable hybrids, the songs created by Figueira to back the images of the film where he also plays the main character, are very impactful and cover an impressive array of influences and musical languages, put together in exquisite cinematic fashion.

After 5 highly acclaimed singles under his own name, the unpredictable, “out there” song writing and production style of Figueira is displayed here from a new perspective. Composing expressively for specific moments of the film, he has allowed yet new elements arise in his already extensive palette of sounds.

Relying once again exclusively on himself to get the job done, he has assembled a collection of songs that portrait many different emotions. Happiness, awe, fear, paranoia, helplessness, disappointment, excitement… are all evoked, reflecting all key twists and turns of the short-film directed by Mateo Fava and Dave Postma.

Limited cassette release (99 copies) with exclusive dialogue excerpts from the film (not included in the digital version). Hand-numbered, beautiful risographed foldable inlay, drawn by Kevin Mancera.

The indie dance and leftfield techno magicians Radial Gaze join the Urge To Dance family after remarkable releases for labels such as TAU, Feines Tier, Calypso and Eskimo. The Saint Petersburg-based project is accompanied by Thomass Jackson and Zombies in Miami on remix duties for the mesmerizingly exotic “In Each Other” EP.

The leading track, In Each Other, is a multi-layered and infectiously danceable combination of addictive bassline, magical Cameroonian drums, Amazonian percussions and mystical marimbas creating a mysterious and exotic track. Psych Subsidy delivers dirty, energising and somehow hypnotic emotions. Entrancing sitars loops, long pitched synthesizer and a twisted old lullaby female vocal will get you on board for an amazing psych-trip.

The B-side is where Thomass Jackson and Zombies in Miami deliver their wild and unorthodox remixes of In Each Other. The Thomas Jackson True Love Remix is emotional, hypnotising and yet so trippy, a true testament of Calypso Records Boss’ remixing skills. The second take of the leading track is by Zombies in Miami, a powerful and forward-looking track that blends the hypnotic percussions of the original with a rhythmic bassline and flawless simplicity of all elements used in this remix.

Pruple Vinyl repress

Third and final part in The Exaltics' Some Other Place tryptich for Clone West Coast Series.

The experimental legends BASTARD NOISE and MERZBOW present their new collaborative album, RETRIBUTION BY ALL OTHER CREATURES. A lashing out against man-made institutions that perpetuate animal cruelty, every second of BASTARD NOISE's contribution to this collaboration is simply put - pitch-black, palpable fury. Elsewhere, the iconic MERZBOW's influence creeps in with a two part concept - the ZooNOsISE tracks, firing off MERZBOW's calling card - grainy, unsettling distortion that builds and builds, set against wretched technological wailing and alarming constants.

The record's intent is both a call to action, and a foreboding signal of end times. "Stand up against any form of animal abuse you witness at all cost," BASTARD NOISE mastermind Eric Wood writes in his liner notes. "Be part of positive, compassionate change and spit on the grave of the status quo." MERZBOW/Masami Akita's message is simple, but hits hard - "TIME IS RUNNING OUT. NOISE IS MUSIC"

First ever release of concrete and electronic collage works by Belgian underground sound explorer Jan Bruyndonckx. This album contains autonomous compositions, music for film and documentary; all independently recorded in his private studio between 1958 and 1965. A small collection of adventurous and mysterious sound evocations with text/poetry (Paul De Vree) recited by Julien Schoenaerts.

The last and most monumental chapter of Lou Ragland's Cleveland career. Understand Each Other serves as a spiritual magnum opus of generations of soul luminaries from the Forest City. The album opens with the socially conscious title track backed by the full force of the Cleveland Orchestra, gutting out a second place finish to Marvin Gaye's What's Going On in both its mission and its mix. This 45th anniversary pressing houses fresh remasters from the original reels in a replica jacket, while Remus Peterson's handsketched depiction of Lou Ragland as peacemaker implores a sabre-toothed tiger and a dove to "Understand Each Other."

The last and most monumental chapter of Lou Ragland's Cleveland career. Understand Each Other serves as a spiritual magnum opus of generations of soul luminaries from the Forest City. The album opens with the socially conscious title track backed by the full force of the Cleveland Orchestra, gutting out a second place finish to Marvin Gaye's What's Going On in both its mission and its mix. This 45th anniversary pressing houses fresh remasters from the original reels in a replica jacket, while Remus Peterson's handsketched depiction of Lou Ragland as peacemaker implores a sabre-toothed tiger and a dove to "Understand Each Other."

"Still in shape, my methods refined", singt Paul Banks in "Toni", dem Eröffnungsstück und der ersten Single von Interpols siebtem Album "The Other Side of Make-Believe". Mit dem diesem Album betritt die Band Neuland: Parallel zur Erkundung der düsteren Unterströmungen des Zeitgeists sind die neuen Songs von Interpol von Sehnsucht und Anmut durchzogen. Daniel Kesslers Signature- Gitarren-Sound, Samuel Fogarinos messerscharfe Percussion-Präzision und Paul Banks sonore Stimme strahlen eine Verletzlichkeit aus, die viele langjährige Fans der Band überraschen dürfte. "Es gibt immer ein siebtes Mal für einen ersten Eindruck", so Banks darüber. Die Aufnahmen zu "The Other Side of Make-Believe" begannen im Jahr 2020 aus der Ferne heraus. Anfang 2021 trafen sich Interpol erneut, um in einem angemieteten Haus in den Catskills an neuem Material zu feilen, bevor sie es später im selben Jahr in Nordlondon fertigstellten. Dabei arbeiteten sie zum ersten Mal mit der Produzentenlegende Flood (Mark Ellis) zusammen und taten sich anschließend wieder mit dem ehemaligen Co-Produzenten Alan Moulder zusammen. Der Titel von "The Other Side of Make-Believe", das Cover und der lyrische Hang zu Fabeln, Nebelkerzen und der Wandelbarkeit der Wahrheit spiegeln Banks Abscheu vor den Verwerfungen des Informationszeitalters wider. Das Album wird sich im Bewusstsein der Interpol-Fans bald ebenso vertraut anfühlen, wie es für die Band bei den Aufnahmen zu der Platte der Fall war. Das Trio-Noir hat fast sieben Alben und mehrere Besetzungswechsel besser überstanden, als irgendjemand hätte vorhersagen können, und sich dabei nie selbst verloren. Heutzutage sind Interpol eine der am markantesten klingenden Rockbands des 21. Jahrhunderts. Seit nun mehr einem Vierteljahrhundert verfeinern Interpol ihre Methoden, womit sich dann auch der Kreis zum ersten Song des neuen Albums wieder schließt.

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.

Eduardo De La Calle and crew return with 4 tracks of deep off kilter electro and idm Big tip if you're into Bitstream, Gosub and Silicon

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.