quête:out of the basement

Danny Ward’s 30-year career has been far from predictable. While best known for the musical eclecticism of his Dubble D project, the dance floor-focused nous of his work as Moodymanc and as a member of the groundbreaking 20:20 Soundsystem, Ward’s bulging CV also includes stints drumming for artists as diverse as Fila Brazillia, Rae & Christian, and The Pharcyde, to Jazz luminaries Mat Halsall and Nat Birchall, alongside countless collaborations (Flora Purim and Nightmares on Wax to name but a couple) and numerous evenings spent adding live percussion to DJ sets at iconic Leeds club night Back To Basics.

Now the long-serving Manchester musician and producer has a new project to share via NuNorthern Soul: Balaphonic. Inspired by a mixture of lockdown-era studio experiments, online collaborations, his long-held love for Afro-Cuban and Afro-Brazilian rhythms and a desire to do things differently, Resolution Revolutions is a gorgeously sonically detailed and immersive album that takes Ward’s musical output to a whole new level.

Like many musicians, Ward used the forced lockdowns of the global COVID-19 pandemic to retreat to his basement studio and make music. Focusing on utilising all of the acoustic and electronic tools at his disposal – not least his beloved percussion instruments – Ward took the opportunity not only to draw on a wide range of musical influences and ideas, but also rhythms, grooves and time signatures. As well as composing new tracks from scratch, he also revisited older compositions with fresh eyes and ears.

The results are simply stunning. Ward sets his stall out via the exotic, slow-burn Balearic warmth of ‘Sunflowers in Dub (Deep Summer Mix)’, where echoing whistles, harmonica motifs, sitar sounds, and cascading piano motifs rise above dub-wise bass and seductive, soft-focus beats. The heady, eyes closed vibe continues on the sunrise-ready awakening of ‘Disorganics (All Strings Mix)’, a samba-soaked summer shuffle rich in sparkling acoustic guitars and infectious Latin percussion, and the fretless bass-sporting Afro-Cuban yearning of ‘Six Fingers’.

As Resolution Revolutions progresses, Ward’s deep love of club-adjacent and dancefloor-focused rhythms subtly comes to the fore. There’s ‘Udders’, a hybrid – and hypnotising – fusion of chopped-up South American percussion, marimba-style melodic motifs, looped bass and spacey electronics, and Ocean Waves Brasil collaboration ‘Oxum’, a mid-tempo Afro-Brazilian deep house number wrapped in deliciously dreamy chords and gentle acid lines.

Similarly impressive and inspired is closing cut ‘Bloco Manco’, where Ward peppers a delay-laden Latin beat and a deep, weighty, dancehall style bassline in waves of echoing hand percussion and restless timbales patterns. Stripped-back, raw and seriously sub-heavy, it provides a jaw-dropping conclusion to one of Ward’s most perfectly formed albums yet.

a A1: Sunflowers In Dub Deep Summer Mix
[b] A2: Disorganics [All Strings Mix]

Lunchbox's legendary lost album "Evolver" is lost no more! Sparklingly remastered for the album’s twentieth (and a few!) anniversary and available on CD, cassette and (for the first time) vinyl, this psychedelic masterpiece fills a crucial hole in the band's discography. Recorded in the couple's 1990s Oakland basement between stays in Berlin, tour dates in London, and dreamy sojourns up the rugged Mendocino coastline, "Evolver" fuses jangle and jungle, ambient and dub into a striking pop statement.

Marrying refined songcraft to the serendipitous magic hidden in half-broken reel-to-reel tape decks and vintage synthesizers, the "Evolver" plants its pop flag on the terrain of magic and mystery. Dreamy jangle pop gems emerge seamlessly out of a sea of loops, drones, and dubbed-out horn fanfares, cascades of tape echo feedback and whispers from outer space providing a trance-inducing backdrop to the pop sensibility for which Lunchbox is well-known. Hook-filled and hypnotic, "Evolver" is a sublime slice of post-pop psychedelia that you won't want to miss.

For this special and long-overdue reissue we've raided the bands vaults for three previously unreleased tunes that add extra dimensions to the album's uniquely trippy flow. And for the vinyl heads we're pressing this as a double LP for maximum fidelity and playability, including a vinyl-only fourth side of beats, loops, interludes and puzzling aural ephemera, all taken directly from the original master tapes. Super cool!

Mint Green Vinyl. Graham Jonson is drawn to the comforts of melody and noise. How the two conspire in tension, tonally and atonally, stirring up memory and mood. This quality animates the technicolor world of quickly, quickly, the psych-pop project that emanates from Kenton Sound, his basement studio in Portland, Oregon. "Everywhere your eye lands, there's another curio to marvel over," noted Pitchfork's Philip Sherburne when he visited Jonson's recording space for a Rising feature just after the release of his "strikingly original" 2021 debut LP, The Long and Short of It. Since then, Jonson formed a live band, released his Easy Listening EP in 2023, and navigated the up-and-downs of a young musician, the sustainability of tours and relationships. While shaped by personal bouts and fallouts, his highly-anticipated full-length follow-up finds Jonson making music that's universal, open-ended, and rewarding, like great songwriters can do. He set out to make a folk album but couldn't help coloring it in with noise; a confluence of lush instrumentation and unexpected sounds. Ambitious yet intimate, hi-fi yet homespun, the idiosyncratic songs on I Heard That Noise curve around the contours of everyday life with warmth, wit, and dissonance.

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.

‘The Return of Pachyman’ is a supernatural force
from a brave new world that’s a little bit San Juan,
a little LA, and a whole lot of Channel One in
Kingston, Jamaica. Designed to be a resurrection
of sound systems from the past through which we
can celebrate a post-Trump future, the record
shows that blasting off into reggae’s deep space
has never gone out of style.
Pachy García (aka Pachyman) is perhaps best
known as the drummer / vocalist for the LA-based
band Prettiest Eyes, a unique pop-noise project
that reflects his other formative interest, synth
punk. He thinks of ‘The Return of Pachyman’ the
same way King Tubby might - an ‘X-ray’ of reggae
music, breaking it down to its bare bones.
Originally a guitarist, he moved to Los Angeles in
the early 2010s and developed his passion for
dub. From there, he started recording bass, drums
and piano and collecting recording equipment in
his basement studio, which he calls 333 House.
With ‘The Return of Pachyman’, García wants to
show how the Caribbean flow is transnational, a
vibe that resounds from Jamaica to San Juan to
Southern California. “With this project, I was
looking to make positive music and radiate good
energy; something to kinda disconnect from the
negative things that were happening at the
moment,” Garcia explains. “I am trying to make this
project a service for humanity in the sense that I
just wanted to shine a positive light.”

The Italian 80s avant garde / anarcho scene is explored in this limited 12” release presenting Nengue and their previously unreleased cover version of the new wave classic Los Ninos Del Parque and the electro pop wave African Beat.

The tumultuous political climate of the 1960s through 1980s inspired Italian artists to craft an introspective, psychological musical landscape. As civil unrest, violent demonstrations, and political murders became commonplace, Italy's centres of intellect vibrated with activist energy. This atmosphere gave birth to a unique, mechanized sound that blended electronic elements with a raw, discordant aesthetic, reflecting the chaotic spirit of the times.

Through vintage forms of social networking and music sharing, a community led process steered the scene, publishing zines and records that grasped alternative concepts of music and lifestyle.

Nengue, were similar to many of these lo-fi, retro-future electronic music pioneers. Based in Rome, their music / art backgrounds flowed with anti-art, extreme noise, futurism, industrial, experimental, martial, folk, free jazz and exotica.

With a couple of releases as a duo, as was often the case, they appeared in numerous other projects and the music was a mixture of their individual backgrounds.

Extraordinarily, only appearing on a couple of obscure cassette compilations, indicative of the time, the quality of Nengue’s productions stands testament. Originally approached to reissue their Cosmic meets Kraftwerk inspired African Beat, a wonderful yet simple electronic idiom, layers of electronica rising, each element an addition flow, vocals the release’s waves.

However, the discovery of their cover of Los Ninos Del Parque – describing it as ‘powerful anarchic nonsense’ – is rightfully now the primary focus.

Acting as some Brutalist interpretation, its sharp electronics and industrial vocals, propel you to a brick-strewn squat party and a place in anarcho folklore.

These are matched with a remix / remake by Berlin’s Bionda e Lupo. Presenting a ‘Neumisch’, Sneaker’s exacting studio mastery and Sano’s additional vocals are a blessing – a new duo version – dynamic and wonderfully special.

To complete, the powerful dub of African Beat closes. Stepping out of his time as one half of Romanian duo Khidja (DFA / Hivern Discs), Andrei Rusu builds on his recent solo releases / remixes for Malka Tuti with a fantastic, bottom heavy version, perfectly building with expertise, an EP for the basements of today that was made in the dark times of the past.

An air of ancient ritualism cloaks Modern Love’s midnight meeting between UK producer MOBBS and French-Egyptian spellcaster Susu Laroche, carving out a channel between hexed trip hop and shoegaze that’s one part DJ Screw, one part MBV, operating within a long shadow of influence cast by Curve, Leila, Cocteau Twins, Nearly God.

Clasping chiral energies on their debut collab, MOBBS brings a history spanning shadowy production work for big name artists to the grimly stylised vein of performance art and musick explored by Susu Laroche, an Egyptian-French with strong binds to chthonic contemporary London.

Their maiden sacrifice heightens the senses to blends of monotonic, sandalwood scented incantations and carpet-burned downbeats swept in slurred dub. Songs are subtly variegated in tone to spell out shifting plays of light evoking bedsit antechambers and warehouse innards lit by iPhone candle or extractor hood and emergency light bulbs on their last lumens.

It's music that's as elaborately serrated and blemished as early MBV, but positioned in a vastly different cultural landscape, drawing from hip-hop, drone, psych and basement noise. The pair’s range of cultural obsessions maintains a precarious balance between shadowy histories and an asphyxiating present; all too often, when the past is projected it's thru a mollifying, nostalgic lens, so their critical, prudent hybrid sound is a vital, chilling corrective.

From the bell-ringing, chain-rattle jag of ‘Throne’ thru the sleepwalker drift of ‘Roam’, and concrete plangency of ‘Forest’, the marriage of MOBBS’ illusive textures with Laroche’s feel for analog image and film (as evinced in her art for the likes of Blackhaine and Mica Levi) imprints their sound in gauzy layers that leave fleeting impressions on the mind’s eye. At their heaviest, Laroche’s arcane declarations descend in impressive enactments, undressing the excesses of over-glossed trip hop to reveal and revel in the sound at its starkest, sexiest, for new waves of washed up souls.

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.

Also includes a large double sided poster , colour inner sleeves and liner notes by Gerald V Casale.

Spuds rejoice. After years of requests, Futurismo are thrilled to announce a brand new limited pressing of the DEVO’s incredible Recombo DNA 4xLP with Mini CD Set, plus also available is a brand new 3xCD version.


For decades Devo have been working non-stop at Recombo DNA Laboratories on a new kind of research to keep up with the mutating world around us. That extensive research is now ready for public consumption once again. Futurismo were the first to bring you this on vinyl and now they present unhindered access into Devo’s labs, documenting the scientific analysis and demonstrations as conducted by the band between the years 1977-2008.



This tireless research has manifested itself in Recombo DNA…an unmissable collection of studio demos and unreleased rare tracks that span Devo’s entire recording career, from their original basement days to their famed ’Freedom Of Choice’ era, right the way through to unused demos from their last studio album. You may know the track ‘Baby Doll’ but do you know it’s original incarnation as ‘Satan’? If you submit to the findings of Recombo DNA Labs you will, Futurismo’s version of this compilation includes six bonus tracks taken from the archives that had never been released, or even heard before.



This limited edition 4xLP set is a sonic fusion of demos, alternate versions and outtakes, demonstrating the true breadth and talent of one of America’s most important bands. But this set doesn’t stop at four beautiful slabs of mutated vinyl, also included is ’The Somewhere Suite’ served up on the format it was originally intended to be back in the May of ‘89, advertised although never released, it’s contained here in all it’s full length glory on a 3” Mini CD. Recombo DNA is also coming on a 3xCD digipak version for the very first time from Futurismo, including all the wonderful artwork and bonus material. Devo’s Recombo DNA is an essential addition to the collection of any science fearing spud, and the perfect sister release to last years Art Devo. The original 2017 pressing of Recombo DNA sold out in less than 48 hours, so grab this while you can. Each set includes 4xLP on limited edition coloured vinyl and includes a Mini CD. This fantastic collection of devolved recordings and bonus tracks are contained within the gloss laminated wide spined sleeve, with newly tweaked artwork, a huge A1 poster, full colour inner sleeves and liner notes by Gerald V Casale. A 3xCD digipak version is also available. Submit to these findings and witness audio mutation in action.

Cindy Lee, Arthur Russell, Viagra Boys, On-U Sound. In the discourse around new albums from singular, world-building artists, the phrase “a big step forward” can often be a blinking red warning sign. You know you’re about to be pulled somewhere new against your will. Inertia is a hell of a thing. It’s nice here. Surely, the party’s not over yet? JJULIUS’ Vol. 3 album is a big step forward, or a step up, out of the murky basement of the preceding two volumes. There’s no time to acclimate. A spindly violin grabs you by the hand and pulls you into the pastoral bounce of “Brinna ut,” which, in spite of its meaning (“Burn out”), creates the kind of blind positivity and warm stomach feeling less cynical people might find in self-help seminars. For us, we have records like this. And, inertia be damned, Vol. 3 has charm like a balm. JJULIUS records have always arrived like meteors from another planet, an impression hammered home by the fact that they’re titled like compendiums of artifacts. And while Vols. 1 and 2 carried that notable tinge of darkness, Vol. 3 has (almost!) cast that shadow, adding elements of disco (“Dödsdisco”) and dream-pop (“Etopisk hallucination”) to his forever favorites Arthur Russell, African Head Charge, and The Fall. Some of that new car smell could be attributed to a change in process. Each song was written over beats played by Tor Sjödén of the wild-eyed Stockholm group Viagra Boys, beats that were themselves inspired by tracks from the likes of Patrick Cowley, CAN, Count Ossie, Black Devil Disco Club and others that Julius would send to him as inspiration. Unless you’re Mark E. Smith, fervor fades. Eventually we all crave a lie down in some nice grass, a few minutes to gaze at the sky and wonder if everything is actually all that bad. Vol. 3 gives you 35 of those respiting minutes. “No looking back, no misery, no talking trash, no enemies.”

Waxwork Records is thrilled to release PHANTASM Original Motion Picture Score by Fred Myrow and Malcolm Seagrave. In celebration of the iconic Horror film's 45th Anniversary, this special triple LP features the complete score sourced from the original 1979 master tapes for the first time in any format, a full LP of never before released cues from the Phantasm score recordings sessions, and the newly re-mastered original 1979 score album.

Directed by Don Coscarelli, Phantasm has become a horror classic due to its surreal and unconventional storytelling. Filming on weekends over the span of a year, and working with a budget of only $300,000, Coscarelli and his crew created a bizarre, gorey, and entirely original horror film. Some of the most famous aspects of the film, like the floating silver orb, come directly from Coscarelli’s dreams, which give the film an even more ethereal feel. Composers Fred Myrow and Malcolm Seagrave were inspired by the horror scores of Goblin (Suspiria) and Mike Oldfield (The Exorcist) to create the haunting sounds of Phantasm. Myrow and Seagrave were working with synthesizers in the early days of the instrument. Says Coscarelli, “The synthesizers we used back then were so primitive that you couldn't repeat something; you would program the synthesizer, which means setting all of these dials to create a sound, and you went back and tried to get it again and forget it - it was impossible.

"I recently received notice that our long-term film storage vault in the basement of the historic Howard Hughes Headquarters building on the corner of Romaine and Sycamore in Hollywood was being permanently closed. During the process of moving out our negative materials, I came across the original three reels of Ampex 456 analog tape used in the Phantasm score recording sessions. Listening now to the score, including the outtake tracks, I am impressed with how inventive and adventurous Fred and Malcolm were in their approach to scoring Phantasm."

Waxwork Records is excited to release the definitive PHANTASM Original Motion Picture Score by Fred Myrow and Malcolm Seagrave as a deluxe 3xLP with features including the expanded and complete score sourced from the original 1979 master tapes, never before released score cues from the Phantasm recording sessions, and the newly re-mastered original 1979 score album. Each disc is pressed to "Silver Sphere" metallic silver colored vinyl and housed in a heavyweight triple gatefold jacket. Also included are exclusive liner notes by Phantasm writer, director, and producer Don Coscarelli, an 11""x11"" insert, and full album artwork by Graham Humphreys.

WRWTFWW Records is very excited to announce the first ever release of the highly-sought after original soundtrack from 1987 cult horror movie Dolls by multi-instrumentalist, composer, producer, music man extraordinaire Fuzzbee Morse. The limited-edition LP is a miracle of lostthen-found VHS era film scores and is housed in a heavyweight 350gsm sleeve with a bloody cutout sticker and exclusive composer notes.

Directed by Stuart Gordon (Re-Animator, From Beyond, Robot Jox...) and released by Charles Band’s infamous Empire Pictures (which later morphed into Full Moon Productions), Dolls is 80s campy VHS horror in all its glory, a fan-favorite with all the attributes needed for a frightening popcorn night, including one hell of a soundtrack with a very welcomed heavy dose of menacing synths, thunderous orchestrations, and quirky interludes.

The haunting score comes from master Fuzzbee Morse who composed it in Richard Band’s garage with a Yamaha QX-1 sequencer, an arsenal of vintage synthesizers, and a wide array of instruments. The result is a must-have (and never released before!) soundtrack that blends horror tropes with influences ranging from Igor Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring to Bernard Herrmann, Frank Zappa, Beethoven, Charles Ives and Eleanor Rigby!

Dolls follows the WRWTFWW release of Fuzzbee Morse’s Ghoulies II (1988) as well as 3 other soundtracks from the Empire Pictures vaults: Richard Band’s Ghoulies (1985), TerrorVision (1986), and Troll (1986). All still available – complete the collection now!

Points of interests

- For fans of soundtracks, horror, cult, synth, ambient, classical, 80s, VHS, Charles Band, Full Moon Productions, Stuart Gordon, John Carpenter, b-movies, sci-fi, Gremlins, toys, evil toys, Toys R Us, the good old days, toys you can play with at 33rpm, Christmas presents.
- First ever release for the soundtrack of cult horror movie Dolls (1987), with cut out sticker and composer notes.

'Erotic Probiotic 2' is Nourished By Time’s debut album on Scenic Route, following up from last year’s two track EP, Erotic Probiotic, which had support from Jamz Supernova on BBC 1Xtra and NTS shows; Yaeji, Shy One, Macca, Anu, and more. 2023 has already been a busy year for the singer/songwriter/producer, supporting 4AD’s sardonic post-punk band, Dry Cleaning on their 20 stop tour of North America. As well as remixing their playful album track, Gary Ashby, dropping on March 1st. Nourished By Time also collaborates with progressive electronic artist Yaeji on her debut album, With A Hammer, out on April 7th on XL Recordings.

Erotic Probiotic 2 showcases the range of this rising Baltimore pop star, telling his transformative story through impeccable songwriting, infectious ear worm melodies, vivid storytelling and intimate DIY production. The album traveresses a broad spectrum of sound, allowing his songwriting to dictate the ever changing mood he orchestrates; whether it is love or loss. Sitting somewhere between indie, pop, alternative RnB, ultimately carving out a fresh sound defined by his vulnerable vocals, raw guitar licks and undeniable groove. Quantum Suicide is the lead single with a bitter sweet sentiment brought to life through fuzzy shoegaze guitar riffs, glimmering synths and beautiful melancholy vocals, leaving you with a dizzying sense of possibilities.

The album was recorded mostly in 2021 - 22 in his parents basement in Baltimore. “At this time, I was in a beautiful and formative relationship that was running its course. Songs like ‘Unbreak My Love’ and ‘Rain Water Promise’ come from that place of dealing with the end. A story of lovers parting and making sense of the battling feelings of resentment and longing. As well as the existential aspect of having to end of a relationship. All while with dealing long-time depression, songs like lead single “Quantum Suicide” and “Shed That Fear” exhibit the importance of choosing to live and that getting out of pits of despair requires tremendous amounts of effort and intention and is a very difficult lifelong task. Whilst other tracks such as ‘The Fields’ and ‘Daddy’ and ‘Workers Interlude’ are attempts at trying to aim my anger at productive targets like Capitalism which both songs are a critique of.”

HTRK step into their 21st year on reflective terms, launching a series of collaborations, covers/remixes, installations, and performances alongside the new repress of their full-length debut, Marry Me Tonight. First released in 2009 via Blast First Petite, the album saw its first vinyl pressing in 2015 via Ghostly International and has since been out of stock. In late 2024, Marry Me Tonight becomes available in limited edition pink and black vinyl, also finally on streaming services. Few groups in history elevate mood to such singular, smoldering supremacy as the Australian duo of Jonnine Standish and Nigel Yang, aka HTRK (or "hate rock" if informed). Across two decades of work and wounds, HTRK’s sound has shape-shifted between densities and intensities, noise and nakedness, but never wavered in its delicate poetic gravity. In HTRK’s sound world, cavernous reverberations of dub techno are mixed with frosted post-punk motifs and the gravelly imperfections of industrial, reimagined in the setting of a dingy basement. Like all HTRK albums, Marry Me Tonight was singular in sound and circumstance. It's the only album the outfit recorded from start to finish as a trio, and it's the only HTRK record that bears the co-production stamp of Rowland S. Howard. Breathy, caustic, and rife with contradiction, Marry Me Tonight took the raw material recorded on 2005's Nostalgia and transformed it into a pop record — pop that buckled and warped beneath the glare of Howard, fellow producer Lindsay Gravina, and the HTRK trio: Jonnine Standish, Nigel Yang and Sean Stewart. Howard died at the end of 2009; Stewart died the year after. Things would never be the same. The band would carry on and reach new heights despite it all, but as a trio, this is their definitive document.

In February 2023, multi-instrumentalist, producer, songwriter, and “genre-defying melody man” (Billboard) Amtrac released his highly-anticipated third album ‘Extra Time’ via Openers.

Inspired by a period of deep reflection during the 2020 lockdowns, ‘Extra Time’ consists of a handcrafted fuse of delicate textures and gritty styles into an unfiltered sonic trip, with each song depicting the process of emotions during a time of uncertainty for the future. It’s a 13-track exploration of forced introspection, a cohesive story that finishes with a surreal feeling of hope.

Amtrac stated: “I made this record to encompass what I was feeling during the times of uncertainty in the world, it helped me cope and was my outlet for everything I was going through. When the listener is done with this album I’m hoping to create the feeling of when you left the movie theater as a child and just saw something that made you think differently.”

Designed to mimic the tension and release of a classic film score, the unique sound of ‘Extra Time’ was heavily influenced by Amtrac’s immersion in the worlds of Jazz and 90s video game music, particularly the classic 90s computer game Grim Fandango and the sonic landscapes of Miles Davis and Stanley Turrentine in addition to the groundbreaking work of fellow electronic pioneers such as Bonobo and Dan Snaith.

Album highlights include kickoff track “Heard Me Right” which was described by Billboard as a “moving mix of rhythmic bass lines and atmospheric melodies”, “Contrast” featuring vocalist Reva Devito, and “Domino” featuring Future Islands frontman Samuel T. Herring that Fangoria described as “like John Carpenter and Basement Jaxx had a baby”. The album also features vocals from his friend Naeem, who worked closely with Amtrac on the jazzy and suspended-in-time groove of “Hesitation.” “Nobody Else” flips a vocal from the Four Tops classic “I Can’t Help Myself” over energetic drums and sultry guitar, and “Dancing With You” unfolds with traditional house elements toward an explosive climax of layered synths. Having made his name with intense DJ sets and creative remixes and collaborations, ‘Extra Time’ is the perfect showcase for Amtrac’s trademark stylistic dexterity and melodic sensitivity - and redefines what it means to create electronic music in 2023.

This follows his collab with Diplo and Leon Bridges on “High Rise” and the recent release of “I’ll Be Around”, his collaboration with English vocalist/producer Elderbrook.

HTRK step into their 21st year on reflective terms, launching a series of collaborations, covers/remixes, installations, and performances alongside the new repress of their full-length debut, Marry Me Tonight. First released in 2009 via Blast First Petite, the album saw its first vinyl pressing in 2015 via Ghostly International and has since been out of stock. In late 2024, Marry Me Tonight becomes available in limited edition pink and black vinyl, also finally on streaming services. Few groups in history elevate mood to such singular, smoldering supremacy as the Australian duo of Jonnine Standish and Nigel Yang, aka HTRK (or "hate rock" if informed). Across two decades of work and wounds, HTRK's sound has shape-shifted between densities and intensities, noise and nakedness, but never wavered in its delicate poetic gravity. In HTRK's sound world, cavernous reverberations of dub techno are mixed with frosted post-punk motifs and the gravelly imperfections of industrial, reimagined in the setting of a dingy basement. Like all HTRK albums, Marry Me Tonight was singular in sound and circumstance. It's the only album the outfit recorded from start to finish as a trio, and it's the only HTRK record that bears the co-production stamp of Rowland S. Howard. Breathy, caustic, and rife with contradiction, Marry Me Tonight took the raw material recorded on 2005's Nostalgia and transformed it into a pop record _ pop that buckled and warped beneath the glare of Howard, fellow producer Lindsay Gravina, and the HTRK trio: Jonnine Standish, Nigel Yang and Sean Stewart. Howard died at the end of 2009; Stewart died the year after. Things would never be the same. The band would carry on and reach new heights despite it all, but as a trio, this is their definitive document.

On Hardcore, James Mapley-Brittle (GRRL) and Nick Sanborn (Made of Oak), meld their love of late-night club music to make mind-bending high-energy dance music. GRRL is one of the brightest emerging stars in the underground arts space and a regular collaborator with PC Music, NTS, and more; Sanborn is better known as one half of the Grammy-nominated electronic pop duo Sylvan Esso. First sparked during DJ sets in North Carolina basements, the duo's unique creative chemistry has grown exponentially since the 2022 release of their debut EP, Inertia. GRRL x Made of Oak's glitched-out sounds have been featured on Adult Swim, Fortnite, and with their own sample pack on Splice. Finding new fans in the likes of Björk, Arca, AG Cook, Porter Robinson, Barker and DJs across the world, GRRL x Made of Oak is an exhilarating experience that will shake the speakers and get any after-hours dance floor moving.

Although many a vibe has shifted since the days of dubbing NNF001 one at a time on the floor of a Koreatown bachelor apartment in February of 2004, using stolen photocopies and tie-dyeing J-cards with wine, the label’s essential premise has not. Then, as now, the vision was to elevate and enshrine outsiders, foragers, hidden gems, and hybrid sounds on cheap tapes or affordable records, to be savoured and shared in the here and now. 399 catalogue titles later, the centre still holds.

To toast the label’s 20th anniversary and 400th release, we commissioned a gold roll call of alumni and affiliates: Alley Of The Sun. Named in homage to the Malibu mystic music fountainhead, skewed through a smoggy sideways lens, the 16-song, 90-minute, double LP suite spans every shade of NNF’s Pacific palette: rainforest ceremony, skyway motorik, Tascam rapture, silhouette shoegaze, basement vapour, astral ascension, jazz shadows, 5th world tropics, lucid dream drone, desert quests, prophecy electronics, ritual wreckage.

Equal parts snapshot, tapestry, and time capsule, the compilation reflects the breadth of NNF’s two-decade exploration and evolution, from simple soil to a sea of dunes. True undergrounds have no set sound or fixed polarity, only flashes of transient magic and forking paths, to be cherished and championed for as long as the candle lasts.

Record includes 2 page insert and download

Flipping rhythms from Guadeloupe, Cuba, Senegal and Puerto Rico, Time Capsule founder Kay Suzuki releases an acid-soaked collection of remixes that transcends time and space.

From the blacked-out basement of Plastic People to the psychedelic dancefloor of Beauty and the Beat, Kay Suzuki’s musical world has been shaped by some of London’s most iconic sound systems. High quality audio, he says, can open portals to new universes. Rhythm is time made plastic and beauty is the space between the beats.

Spanning over fifteen years of music from the prolific DJ, producer, Time Capsule label boss and one time Brilliant Corners sushi chef, this collection of remixes is the logical conclusion of Kay Suzuki’s musical thinking. Drawn to unique percussive or syncopated rhythms, he describes remixes as conversations between the original artist’s sense of time and his own. Weaving broken beat, house and dub influences into rhythms from across the Black Atlantic, these four tracks find each other kinship on the dance floor.

The A-side begins with a dubbed-out rework of the Gwoka celebration rhythm ‘A Ka Titine’ by Guadeloupe’s Gaoulé Mizik that was originally released by Beauty and the Beat in 2022. Layering electronic flares, dub sirens and space echo reverb across the shuffling toumblak beat, Suzuki leans into the track’s creole heritage, turning the track into a sought-after dancefloor jam, played by everyone from Colleen Cosmo Murphy and John Gomez to Yu-Su and Bradley Zero.

Skipping to Puerto Rico, Broki’s ‘Es Que Lo Es’ emerged from a collaboration between Bugz in the Attic’s Afronaut and Seiji and local musicians. Here Suzuki reworks the Afro-Latin percussion into a subtle bruk, conjuring a third space between London and San Juan that remains both of and outside the era in which it was made.

Blackbush Orchestra’s ‘Sortez, Les Filles!’ opens the B-side, taking apart the original and kneading the Senegalese percussion into a chugging Balearic house track, buoyant and full of life. Also first released by Beauty and the Beat, the track features new synth and structural elements that bring out the innate dancefloor potential beneath the surface of the original.

The final track on the collection heads back to the Caribbean and the island of Cuba, where Sunlightsquare a.k.a. Claudio Passavanti worked with vocalist Rene Alvarez and expert in Afro-Cuban percussion, Giovanni Imparato, on ‘Oyelo’. Here, Suzuki strips out the kick completely, leaving an implied rhythm which he calls an “imaginary four-to-the-floor” - a groove that is felt rather than heard, leaving the listener floating in another universe entirely.