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Los Angeles rock trio Dogstar is back with All In Now, the band’s fourth studio album and the follow-up to 2023’s Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees. Produced by Nick Launay (IDLES, Amyl and the Sniffers, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds), All In Now marks a new era for Dogstar, with layered guitar riffs and heavy bass inspired by their time out on the road. Includes black LP in a gatefold jacket with a printed insert.

Artlab launches its brand-new record label with a special inaugural vinyl release, celebrating the 10th anniversary of the renowned cultural center and multidisciplinary music and arts club. To mark a decade of fostering cutting-edge sound and artistic community, this very first label installment gathers a stellar lineup of artists for a fresh four-track compilation. Showcasing the club’s deep roots in the underground and its forward-thinking vision, each track contributes a unique character and dancefloor mastery to this milestone collection.

Kicking things off on the A-side, the legendary Random Factor delivers a funky, electro-tinged dub of 20:20 Vision's "Calling," immediately setting an infectious, energetic tone. Following this, Barem makes a welcome return with "E.Therian," a driving, highly-kinetic number delivered in typical Barem fashion, bringing his signature rolling groove and undeniable club intuition to the forefront.

On the flip side, Solimano and Furz team up for "Melancholic Dreams," a track with a pushing, Balearic rhythm and dreamy atmospheres that add a lush, emotional layer to the record. Finally, Janeret and Miroloja join forces to close out the EP with "Digital Dreams," a masterful, hypnotic breakbeat number, creating a sophisticated and powerful closing statement for this debut anniversary edition.

Rare early 80s 12-inch single mix of a track first found on Black Sounds Of Freedom. This version is updated with a new drum track for a thick, rub-a-dub flip on the album cut. Features extended Prince Jammy dub treatment.

Dich lieb ich, Erde! trauerst du doch mit mir! Und unsre Trauer wandelt wie Kinderschmerz In Schlummer sich und wie die Winde Flattern und flüstern im Saitenspiele

The third stanza of Friedrich Hölderlin’s poem ‘Dem sonnengott’ evokes a narrator who is tortured by Spleen until slumber makes his childlike gloom disappear with music. Although today’s readers might judge these nineteenth century musings of the Imagination as mere stylistic platitudes, they also still speak beyond the grave as universal truths. A mere two hundred years later similar anxieties and hopes are still channeled through various art forms, with changing success and reverberation. Brannten Schnüre are one of those neo-romantic music experimentalists who add to a long tradition of celebrating folk tale and exoticism. Their meticulously crafted loops, hesitant melodies and heavily nostalgic lyricism could easily be translated to what the late philosopher and music critic Mark Fisher called ‘hauntology’, a postmodern longing for a lost future. To describe the beauty of ‘Geträumt hab’ ich vom Martinszug’, however, the term seems somewhat dissatisfying. Romanticism is a hard nut to crack in the Anthropocene, and Brannten Schnüre’s realms of the cerebral are too deeply ingrained in a German tradition of story telling to define them within popular paradigm.

‘Geträumt hab’ ich vom Martinszug’ was recorded in 2014 in Würzburg and functions as the autumn part of the band’s seasonal cycle quadrilogy (the other segments being ‘Aprilnacht’ (SicSic), ‘Sommer im Pfirsichhain’ (Aguirre) and ‘Durch unser zugedecktes Tal’ (Youdonthavetocallitmusic)). It deals with the Saint Martin’s parade, a mostly European tradition to celebrate the medieval spirit of Saint Martin of Tours, friend of children and patron of the poor. Around 11 November children come out on the streets with lanterns and sing ancient songs in exchange for sweets. It’s a period of snugness and expectation, of yearning and dreaming, and therefore a consummate subject for the duo to scrutinize.

To the adult’s ear the dream of the Saint Martin’s parade isn’t all that consolatory. The dark and slow loops of Christian Schoppik rather sound like motifs for a welcome paralysis. Sometimes as a gentle backdrop for vocals by Katie Rich and Schoppik himself, the repetitive structures serve as tricksters that trade innocence for the uncanny. The dream becomes a fever dream which quickly absorbs the listener into a vacuum, an eternal post-panic attack semi-relief. Maybe that’s the amazing paradox of Brannten Schnüre. The space they occupy is never comforting – as if being locked up inside a Carl Grossberg painting – but it’s also a subliminal aural zone you do not want to leave. It’s music as being, as a stream, devoid of climax or catharsis. And because it is flux and being, and exists to be taken, it speaks in art’s purest form. ‘In place of a hermeneutics we need an erotics of art’ Susan Sontag famously concluded her essay ‘Against Interpretation’ with. Well, look no further …

Detroit staple 7 Days Entertainment welcomes back Butterbandz for his third solo outing on wax. Real name Darian Strickland, he is part of the new wave going out of the Motor City and continues the tradition of stripped back, raw and proudly machine-made sounds that blend grit with soul. 'Prelude To The Afters' has taught bass pings and swirling, blues-y chords that bring a strangely unsettling air. 'Hurricanrana' is heavy and sparse with icy hi-hats and twanging synth notes while Butterbandz & Generation Next hook up for a remix of 'Fantasy' that pairs the beautiful with the austere once more. 'LifeTime' is a slightly more playful sound with a cheery cascade of sugary synths. Atmospheric stuff.

Thirty years. That is how long it has been since 1996, when European electronic music was
overwhelmed and reshaped by a wave of melody, melancholy, and rhythm. At the center of that
big bang was Roberto Concina, known ar1s1cally as Robert Miles—a visionary capable of bringing
Dream Trance to the global stage. Today, to celebrate three decades of pure sonic magic, "Fable"
returns to the turntable in a splendid celebratory reissue that stands as a well-deserved act of love
for an ar1st who passed away far too soon.
If Children was the programma1c manifesto of that era, Fable was its emo1onal evolu1on—the
track that proved dance music could touch in1mate and cinema1c chords. Listening to it today,
remastered for vinyl, is an experience that goes way beyond a simple nostalgia trip. This 30th-anniversary reissue splits into two versions to sa1sfy both purist DJs and avid collectors,
offering two excep1onal vinyl op1ons:

 The Standard Edi3on (Black Vinyl): Perfect for audiophiles and DJs who want to spin this
track in their sets without the fear of wearing out a museum piece. The warmth of the
black groove enhances the dynamics of the famous piano line and the depth of the
enveloping bass.

 The Limited Edi3on (Transparent Blue Vinyl - Limited & Numbered): The true crown jewel
of this release. Visually stunning, the transparent blue vinyl seems to evoke the dreamlike,
liquid, and suspended atmosphere of the track itself. The fact that it is a limited, handnumbered edi1on instantly makes it a grail for collectors worldwide.

Thirty years. That is how long it has been since 1996, when European electronic music was
overwhelmed and reshaped by a wave of melody, melancholy, and rhythm. At the center of that
big bang was Roberto Concina, known ar1s1cally as Robert Miles—a visionary capable of bringing
Dream Trance to the global stage. Today, to celebrate three decades of pure sonic magic, "Fable"
returns to the turntable in a splendid celebratory reissue that stands as a well-deserved act of love
for an ar1st who passed away far too soon.
If Children was the programma1c manifesto of that era, Fable was its emo1onal evolu1on—the
track that proved dance music could touch in1mate and cinema1c chords. Listening to it today,
remastered for vinyl, is an experience that goes way beyond a simple nostalgia trip. This 30th-anniversary reissue splits into two versions to sa1sfy both purist DJs and avid collectors,
offering two excep1onal vinyl op1ons:

 The Standard Edi3on (Black Vinyl): Perfect for audiophiles and DJs who want to spin this
track in their sets without the fear of wearing out a museum piece. The warmth of the
black groove enhances the dynamics of the famous piano line and the depth of the
enveloping bass.

 The Limited Edi3on (Transparent Blue Vinyl - Limited & Numbered): The true crown jewel
of this release. Visually stunning, the transparent blue vinyl seems to evoke the dreamlike,
liquid, and suspended atmosphere of the track itself. The fact that it is a limited, handnumbered edi1on instantly makes it a grail for collectors worldwide.

New from Ulla’s 28912 label comes a gorgeous bouquet of lowercase wonders from Justin Cantrell aka J and the Woolen Stars, part of Picnic, and the brains behind the excellent Daisart and se Dessaisir Publishing labels.

»Puff« is a glistening pool of lush refractions and music-box lullabies, featuring an array of acoustic instruments and fragile foley sounds that are gently peeled away until all we’re left with are the faded outlines of half-remembered songs.

A sound that roots itself in the prophetic machinations of artists like Fennesz and the languid Japanese minimalism of Fourcolour or Moskitoo, »Puff« strikes a delicate balance, sounding as bewitchingly informal as a Tenniscoats set, but also consistently muddling the perception of high and low-brow sound. Cantrell’s skill lies in a sort of sonic conjuration, bamboozling the brains of those of us who grew up listening to stepped-on audio via ramshackle RealMedia streams by alchemising the content, turning found sound into gold. Just tell us you don’t get chills from hearing the bitrate-impaired acoustic guitar on »Dirty like an angel«, set against a backdrop of windy, harmonic detritus. It’s both meticulously contrived and gloriously off-the-cuff, like one of Vincent Gallo’s classic »When«-era demos reduced down to 96kbps.

Similarly, »She knows just what to say« provokes faint memories of folk music, with impromptu fiddle parts gently steamrolled to create a sound that’s nothing short of exquisite, like pressed flowers rediscovered in an old, discarded book. Even the more palpably electronic elements are hand sculpted in a way that belies the era we’re living in - it’s music for a digital age that sounds oddly unplugged, flawed and human. An unmistakably lovely antidote to the opiating nostalgia of our time.

This summer Delasflores launches her vinyl label La Ninya Records with a various artist release. The curation is a reflection of her sound, refined, and stripped back to create a pensive atmosphere on the floor. To cement this body of work as a timeless piece she has called upon Spanish duo, T.S.O, underground minimal stalwart Falko Brocksieper delivers a track he produced in 2005, rising UK talents Joolmad & Mr Freeze, and the debut outing from Australian producer, Kithers. Each of the tracks highlight different moments of the night, patience and drive in all the right moments, the push and pull of a hypnotic ride.

“La Ninya is the pure self, untouched by labels or expectation. It marks the start of a journey when everything is uncertain, ready to feel, remember and be shaped by music. It invites you to be a blank canvas, open to colour and freedom, reconnecting with the inner child.”

Tom Sharkett has been one to watch in the last year via his remix work for DFA, Sub Pop and more plus his edits that are quietly out there doing damage with those that know. Here he arrives on Test Pressing Recordings with ’25’. Hot on the heels of his remix of LCD Soundsystem’s ‘Home’ – ‘Easily one of the biggest records of the Summer’ (Phonica Records) – here is his first solo EP for the label. ‘Painting On Glass’ arrives and sets the mood. Heavy synths and breaks. ’25’ features the vocals of mui zyu and pulls from the likes of New Order but takes them somewhere new. The third track, 'Sleepwalk', sees mui zyu return — a love song that sets a mood then drops into a vocoder loop midway before a fitting finale. ‘I’ll Call If I Want You’ closes the EP with a vocal from Tom himself. It’s a perfect closer. This isn’t a straight up dance record. It’s an artist showing they’ve got big ideas and a home for them.

Ryjel was a band from suburban Pittsburgh, PA, that started out in the mid-1970s performing classic rock covers. The band was approached by a local entrepreneur who wanted to cut a single for the disco market, but a lack of financing scuttled the proposal. Nevertheless, the band was able to record a dozen of its original tunes in a professional studio for possible release, and among those songs were "Heart's On Fire" and "Baby Don't Stop."

Both tracks were recorded some 50 years ago having remained unreleased to this day. It needed the investigative work of the Tramp Records crew to discover them. Finally they are available on a strictly limited 45 RPM single release. In addition, the full length version of "Heart's On Fire" will soon be released on the upcoming Tramp Records compilation titled "CAN YOU FEEL IT Vol.5 - Modern Soul, Disco & Boogie 1977-88".

Jazz-fusion, disco-funk, Latin jazz and batucada rhythms get the Filipino treatment onAfter Midnight, the sublime second album from keyboardist Boy Katindig. Originally released in 1980, After Midnight draws heavy influence from soul and funk contemporaries in the US as well as Latin America, in particular the famed Brazilian percussionist Paulinho da Costa.

It’s a testament to his musical prowess that Katindig weaves effortlessly between styles and tempos. His reverence for Paulinho da Costa extends far, with covers of several songs from the latter’s 1979 Happy People album. This includes slow-burner ‘Déjà Vu’ written by Isaac Hayes originally for Dionne Warwick; on the Filipino instrumental version, local legends Jun Regalado and Roger Herrera (from Regalado’s ‘Pinoy Funk’ single) are reunited on drums and bass respectively.

But Katindig’s original compositions hold just as much weight and unique personality: title track ‘After Midnight’ opens with a sultry funk serenade reminiscent of The Isley Brothers, and quickly transforms into a catchy, blistering, saxophone chorus that brims with swagger. Hidden B-side gem ‘Got The Need’ is an uptempo tribute to batucada that would not be out of place in a jazzy house set, and boasts increasingly elaborate and psychedelic solos from Katindig on keys and Ben Concepcion on soprano sax.

Meanwhile, ‘Love Till the End of Time’ is a masterclass in instrumental disco funk, penned by the prolific Greg Phillanganes who at that same time was writing for many of the greats including Chaka Khan, George Benson, Stevie Wonder, The Jacksons and Cheryl Lynn.

This album is lovingly reissued by Sama Sama Records, a boutique label from DJ and collector Norsicaa, who ran the esteemed Soundway Records for 8 years and released the compilation Ayo Ke Disco in late 2024.

Besides having one of the most original artist names out there, Qrusifix aka Hampus Karlsson, is a true record collector who has been putting in the work on his MPC 2000 for quite some time. With roots in Småland and now based in Stockholm he’s been spinning records, low-key producing tracks on his home turf and popping up whenever the time felt right to spread his vibes. In 2024, together with fellow producer and friend David, he released his first record on the Malmö label Hip Hop Weekend.

The Chasing Clouds EP, out in May 2026 on Västkransen Records, presents four tracks built for late nights that drift into dawn - calm, dreamy and slightly melancholic soundscapes, as if you're on your way somewhere but without rush.

House favourites Kai Alce, JKriv, Sean McCabe and Medlar debut on Universo Positivo with their masterful reworks from Universo Positivo’s catalog. After two years of agenda-setting sounds, the label is set to drop this classy remix EP, and in that time, founder Joseph Salvador has established the label with a mix of his own music and fresh grooves from carefully A&R’d pioneers and new school names. He has been doing much the same since the 90s with various projects from his cult TINK Records and the Tomorrow Is Now Kid! nights in Amsterdam, in collaborative production outfits like Black Tulip & Wendell Morrison, and releasing records by DJ Steaw, Malin Genie, Fabio Monesi and more. This latest release brings together some of the most respected names in the scene for four standout reworks.

First up, Atlanta-based NDATL label head Kai Alce, who has long been one of deep house's most influential architects. He flips 'Sonido Latino' into a smooth groove with jazzy, Roy Ayers-style melodies that bring a soft-focus glow and late-night intimacy. Then comes Bristol-based don Sean McCabe, a master of vintage synths with a 20-year back catalogue on seminal labels like Local Talk, Strictly Rhythm and Z Records. His take on 'Ipanema Jazz' maintains the original's samba shuffle but reframes it in a deep house groove with extra expressive jazz keys, dainty chords and playful trumpet motifs.

Brooklyn-based groove architect and Razor-N-Tape co-founder JKriv brings his many years of experience as a guitarist, producer and songwriter to his take on 'Caparica Sunset'. It's a deep, driving sound that's playful and romantic with flirtatious horns and soft acid, dusty breakbeats and luscious grooves for loved-up good time sessions. Last but never least, is Medlar, the South London underground maverick with a wide-ranging sound and album credits on the likes of the hallowed Delusions Of Grandeur. He remixes 'U R The Revolution' into a warm, euphoric rush of throwback house that's warm, melodic and sure to get the floor going right off.

The first release of the False Mov Rec. label, an international joint venture between two underground imprints located in Germany and Greece respectively is as unusual as it is unique in many ways. Released in 2017 this split 7" sees DYL from Romania and Paragon from the UK pairing up for the A-Side track "Unstable", a deeply hypnotic and driving minimal take on Halfstep Drum'n'Bass / Bass Music for late night dancefloors whereas Greek producer PS Stamps Back delivers a bass-driven take on psychedelia-infused slow motion Techno for illegal forest raves with "Beyond Lies The Wub" which also comes in handy for tripped out after hours and similar occasions.

Never officially distributed before and available in extremely limited quantities only.

“One foot out the door, another in the otherworld…”
So begins Hannah Lew’s debut, self-titled solo record, soaked in imperious, wide-eyed pop songwriting and a girl-group/post punk aesthetic that belies the artist’s history in the U.S. underground. A towering, hook-laden album, it’s infused with an optimism and surrealism that conversely deals with the times we find ourselves in.

Recorded at home in Richmond, CA and in The Best House studio with Maryam Qudus in Oakland CA, with the assistance of a crack team of West Coast musicians, this album sees Hannah Lew stepping out from behind the legacy of her two groups Grass Widow and Cold Beat. While musically bearing similarities with her previous work, “Hannah Lew” is a bold leap into direct pop territory, making ample use of a vocal style that teases out the inherent melancholy in her melodies. Mastered by Sarah Register, each song is a perfectly honed nugget that frequently pulls the heart in two directions at once.

Themes of change, breaking up, shattering old ways of being are shot through the record. For the front cover, a photograph of the artist’s face was printed, ripped up and re-assembled, resembling the creative process embarked upon by Lew for her first “solo” material. The album feels instinctual, almost dream-like in its assemblage of sweeping synths and pulsating, propulsive drum machine beat patterns with Lew’s vocal performances sensitive and caressing over the top. Increasingly relying on the subconscious and dreams to guide her creative process, Hannah Lew frequently abandons literal interpretations or linear narratives, the songs seeming to exist in a swooning, effortless flow-state while remaining emotionally hard hitting.

On an album where every song could be a single, there are kaleidoscopic shades and varying emotional tones in abundance. First single Another Twilight is carried along a pumping, Italo-disco-style 4/4 beat and mono-synth bass line, the low end pulling at the heart and body. Lew’s vocal melody teases the track before swan-diving into a gorgeous chorus as she sings “it’s all over baby and I don’t mind… in decline, I take my time…” The album is suffused with moments like this. On slow builder Damaged Melody, an arpeggiated synth elongates the verse before a cascading synth showers down melodic glitter. The stunning Replica uses dual swirling synth patterns before a driving, synthpop chorus for the ages carries Hannah Lew’s vocal into the stereo field, sailing in on a high register singed with the embers of a break up.

In a departure from previous groups, her solo songs are guided by dreams and free association inspired by Dada and the Surrealist movement and sculpted afterwards. As such, the songs reveal themselves on repeated listens, revealing traces of heartbreak inspired by both personal and global elements - Hannah Lew regards the album “a wartime album.” On Move In Silence, Lew intones “there’s a war outside, just out of view,” revealing the dichotomy at play throughout. With the songs evolving naturally and in a flow state, the pressures and sadnesses of the modern age bleed through, mixed in with Lew’s inherent love, sensitivity and fractured-but-intact optimism. On the swooning, sublime Sunday layers of Numanoid synths open up for the commanding vocal performance pontificating on grief, love, pain as she “feels the ache on Sunday…” As the chorus builds and Lew’s call-and-response vocal adds to the emotional tension, it almost feels like too much to take.

Elsewhere, there are echoes of Hannah Lew’s previous work. On Time Wasted a bass guitar comes in with a heavy, punk attack before the synths and vocal harmonies reminiscent of later Cold Beat elevate everything. The glassy, sweetly resigned closer The Clock sounds like so classic it could be cover, a sweetened Jesus & Mary Chain tune perhaps, before it erupts into volcanic chorus that could only come from Hannah Lew in 2026.

Crypt of the Wizard is proud to make available two legendary underground albums by Slutet on vinyl and digital formats.
Slutet originated in Uppsala well over a decade ago, first emerging as a loose idea around 2010. The original cluster of strangely like minded individuals - Dingir, Ryttersson, J.P., Sviatopolk, were equally set on starting a cult as they were a band, the former emerging as a loose collective known as The End Commune, while the latter eventually began rehearsing together as Slutet on September 1, 2013.
From this constellation three notorious demo tapes sprung which were self-released in very limited numbers, and only available by trading bodily fluids, blood, and/or hair for the cassettes. “A very loose guess but we made probably around 20-30 hand-drawn/custom demo tapes of the first three releases. We got blood and hair from many places, actually the very first offering was from INDONESIA. Slovakia, Germany, USA, Argentina, Norway, Canada, Finland followed.... if my memory serves..... hazy years indeed”
J.P. left early 2015. Later that year, after trying the band as a bass-drum-vocals outfit for a while, Fjalar joined on guitar. This is the classic constellation. Dingir, Ryttersson, Fjalar, Sviatopolk. The same troupe playing to this very day.
Following on from the compilation Slutet began work on their next offering entitled Jihad. While the departure of J.P. left them temporarily without a guitarist, a chance meeting with Fjalar at a rave ushered in a new era for the band. “I met the drummer and the bass player at a psytrance rave in the forest. I didn’t have any band and I wanted to play music and I saw this fucking weirdo with long dreads and a Hellhammer shirt and I just went up to talk to him”.
After Fjalar joined the rather chaotic fray, songwriting duties were spread out more broadly and Jihad was rehearsed and recorded in a haze. First released as a cassette by Manifest Of Hate Creations, and later on vinyl in an edition of 100 by Goatowarex the release quickly sold out and became as legendary, and as incredibly difficult to obtain as the previous releases. “It has got some psychedelic improvs, some very unorthodox and quite genius vocal work, some electronic undertones, some noisy ambience, a message of existentialism; all this wrapped up in some sloppy but very authentic and intense black metal-ish music.”
“After the vinyl compilation was out (early 2015) we felt probably a bit directionless, and, having parted ways with a befriended and talented guitar player, we felt maybe a bit morally weakened to continue. First, for a year almost, we toiled on without the 6-strings and rehearsed quite lengthy material for a proposed upcoming LP. However, that material never surfaced. Then we got a new guitar player (Fjalar) and created and recorded this mess”.
It is with great pride that we make these albums available to a general audience and in a wider pressing without need for bloodshed.

‘Confession' is an album of quiet upheaval. An album about closeness that arrives late and unexpectedly. About stability rubbing up against desire. About the way friendship can suddenly tilt into something charged — and how that charge unsettles everything around it. Where earlier work often observed from a distance, Confession turns inward. The voice is closer, warmer, less shielded. “This wasn’t the album I intended to make,” says Carla dal Forno. “I originally wanted something veiled and abstract, but I realised I couldn’t hide behind abstraction — the songs only worked when I leaned into emotional truth.”

This is dal Forno’s fourth LP, written and recorded over several years in a small country town, in a studio housed inside a partially abandoned hospital. Long corridors, humming lights, emptied rooms — a place built for care and waiting, now quiet enough for thoughts to echo. That stillness shapes the record: intimate, watchful, unadorned. “I live in a small country town that offers a stillness my life didn’t previously have,” she explains. “In that quiet, feelings I might’ve ignored in a busy city grew loud.” Dal Forno sings plainly and conversationally, with an emotional precision that sharpens the everyday into something quietly unsettling.

The album moves through paired states: going out and staying in, wanting and withholding, devotion and distraction. Domestic calm set against private unrest. A long-held relationship offers safety and routine, while a newer connection opens emotional fault lines — longing, jealousy, fantasy, self-exposure. “At the heart of the album is a friendship that became emotionally charged in an unexpected way,” dal Forno says. “That shift brought daydreaming, jealousy, tenderness, confusion, self-awareness — and eventually acceptance.”

The drama here is internal, incremental, lived. Musically, Confession feels lighter on its feet than its subject matter suggests. Melodic basslines anchor the songs while guitars, harmonies, and gently off-kilter rhythms move around them. There’s a looseness, even a playfulness — “like the sensation of tension lifting once you finally admit something to yourself,” as dal Forno puts it. The album traces a subtle arc: attraction blooming where it shouldn’t; obsession quietly taking hold; fantasy overtaking reality; clarity arriving slowly, sometimes painfully. Visually and emotionally, Confession returns to modest spaces: backyards, beds, night streets, overgrown paths. “The record exists in that contrast,” dal Forno reflects. “Peaceful surroundings, unsettled interior.”

Like all of dal Forno’s work, Confession resists clean conclusions. It doesn’t moralise desire or romanticise restraint. Instead, it lingers in the in-between — where love is stable but not total, where yearning teaches as much as it hurts, where solitude becomes a form of care. Plain-spoken but emotionally complex. Rooted and restless. Held together by bass, breath, routine, weather. An album about admitting what you feel —and living with what that admission changes.

There’s no direct English translation for the word “hiraeth”. In the Welsh language, it describes a form of longing for an intangible something, somewhere or someone that no longer exists. Sofie Birch and Antonina Nowacka draw on the concept to guide their second collaborative album, a suite of vulnerable, open-hearted improvisations and reflections that attempt to grasp an image of the past that’s chimeric, dissolving almost as soon as it materializes. The duo’s process follows the same distant beacon; unlike Languoria, their critically acclaimed debut, Hiraeth is, at heart, an acoustic record, informed by in-person improvisations with voices and string instruments that gesture to an era before computers, AI and DAWs. It’s just as lush, but Hiraeth is warmer and more muted than its predecessor.
Nowacka and Birch conceived the album in the wake of a slew of collaborative live concerts, spurred on by serendipitous improvisations and an interest in paring down their setup. Unsound arranged a retreat in Sokołowsko, an idyllic village nestled in the verdant hills of Southern Poland, close to the Czech border. Sokołowsko surrounds a large ruined sanatorium that’s rumored to have inspired Thomas Mann’s 1924 novel The Magic Mountain, and has long been a magnet for artists. The two took the opportunity to rethink their approach completely, arriving with just a guitar, a zither and a portable Nagra reel-to-reel machine. Recording directly to tape, they sketched out ideas with just their voices and instruments, reflecting their surroundings without being distracted or mediated by modern technology.
“We wanted to get away from screens as much as possible,” says Birch, “to bring to the world something vulnerable and honest. Without advance preparation, every day we went out into the open air, finding places to sit, during sunset or the midday sun. We discovered new tunings on our instruments, picked up a melody, and started the machine, playing over
and over till we got a take.” In the autumn, they met again in a Copenhagen studio, sparingly and carefully layering old synths and organs to add more depth without muddying the mix.
Both Nowacka and Birch sing throughout, their voices threading the acoustic instruments and tangling with each other, almost becoming one. But it’s the environment of Sokołowsko, “the birds and the light, even the wind playing against the harps,” that’s woven into the music’s lining. Affected by time spent meditating and in nature, as well as the fact that Birch was pregnant whilst recording, the album feels alive and remarkably present. Even the sound quality of the tape machine gives Hiraeth a tactile, organic quality, as Nowacka puts it, “like being in a warm bath.”

They still have the raw recordings from Sokołowsko on old reels, physical souvenirs of their time spent making music in a “habitat for intuitive songs, a little ecosystem, alive and spirited.” The outmoded gear and remote setting helped the duo disengage from the modern world for a few moments and imagine an existence that’s been lost to time and nominal progress. With digital technology receding into the background, Nowacka and Birch had space to make “intuitive connections with frequencies and people,” as Birch explains. Hiraeth is a testament not to nostalgia, but to the power of kinship.