Buscar:overdub

KALEIDOBOLT’s fifth album is pungent to the ears – KARAKUCHI out in March Karakuchi is one record you can judge by its cover. The first time Kaleidobolt’s faces have adorned an LP, they have been fused into a torpedoing biomechanical vehicle. Echoing The Birthday Party’s Junkyard or Motörhead’s Orgasmatron (…on acid?!), the illustration epitomises perfectly Kaleidobolt’s agenda of “hyperkinetic rock”. Their feverish, psych-prog sound is full of motion. It jerks around at different speeds, threatening to spin out of control and crash into flames at any given moment. What’s more, it isn’t taken too seriously. This is heavy and intricate music, yes. But as bassist and co-singer Marco Menestrina puts it, the Kaleidobolt attitude is “an ugly smirk more than an angry face with a fist.” On their fifth album since forming in 2014, the Helsinki-based outfit lean into their strengths as a formidable power trio. With their previous two records, 2019’s Bitter and 2022’s This One Simple Trick, they had thrown everything at their disposal into the recording with no expense spared on overdubs, effects and kitchen sinks. Produced again by Niko Lehdontie (Oranssi Pazuzu), Karakuchi comes from tightly rehearsed, live-in-the-studio takes. Kaleidobolt realise that greater sparsity can be a strength, and they’ve allowed their instruments extra space to breathe. It makes for their earthiest, purest and perhaps most authentic record to date. Karakuchi’s exuberant style emerges from the individual members’ contrasting listening habits. These span classic prog, Japanese city pop, noise rock, post-hardcore and historical podcasts. One record they can all agree is a masterpiece, the centre of the Venn diagram where all three members meet, is King Crimson’s Red. As for their new album’s title, that’s as suitable as the cover art. “Karakuchi” is the slogan of the Japanese beer brand Asahi Super Dry. Translated literally, this means “pungent to the mouth”. As drinkers of that product, Kaleidobolt acknowledge its parallels to their songs. “It’s very intense, right at the front, like at the first bite,” explains Menestrina. “And then it leaves your mouth feeling refreshed. The flavour doesn’t linger in your mouth, basically. It has a quick, hard finish. With a bit of a stretch, we thought that that could also be said of our music.” Karakuchi is Kaleidobolt at their hardest, fastest, tightest and super-driest. Pungent to the ears. -JR Moores, November 2025

A chance meeting in Mexico City set Points of Inaccessibility into motion. When Ibero-American composer Rafael Anton Irisarri crossed paths with Dutch media artist Jaco Schilp at MUTEK in 2024, a conversation about how technology shapes perception revealed an unexpected common ground. Schilp invited Irisarri to a spring 2025 residency at Uncloud, the Utrecht-based collective he co-founded, where Irisarri's sound began to take form amid an environment shaped by Schilp’s visual research.

The Uncloud studio was located inside the former Pieter Baan Centre, a forensic psychiatric prison where suspects of violent crimes were once confined. Its long history of silence and containment shaped the atmosphere in which the project developed. Within this setting, Irisarri coaxed long bowed-guitar tones through a network of pedals and looping systems. The raw gestures thickened into a vaporous and architectural field of sound. Schilp processed the material through a custom point-cloud software patch that produced images in continuous flux. The visuals flickered, dissolved and reformed like memories that resist coherence, functioning as a digital Rorschach that reflected the observer’s own perception.

Amid these spectral echoes, the project evolved into an examination of how the past persists within present signals. Memory endures as residue and interference, continually shaping perception even when its source has faded.

Schilp’s visual process required a continuous stream of sound in real time. Irisarri improvised throughout the residency, generating material that allowed the visuals to develop in parallel. Once back in his New York studio, he began shaping the recordings by carving pathways through the improvisations and mapping selected passages into MIDI. This process allowed him to build outward from the bowed-guitar material with minimal overdubs, adding Prophet 5 textures, Moog bass and strings that expanded the harmonic field while keeping the original performances at the center. To refine the structure, Abul Mogard provided editorial input, working with Irisarri’s stems to guide transitions and strengthen the overall pacing. The material, originally created under conditions of immediacy and constraint, evolved into a fully realized work through careful revision, patience and sustained reworking.

The title engages the geographic concept of the Poles of Inaccessibility, locations defined solely by their distance from all surrounding points. Irisarri adapts this idea to the conditions of digital life, where new forms of inaccessibility arise through the informational enclosures that structure perception. What appears to be a fully connected network often produces a deeper kind of separation, one shaped by the filtering logic of the systems that mediate experience. In this sense, the digital sphere mirrors its geographic counterpart. We inhabit spaces saturated with signals, yet the possibility of genuine contact becomes increasingly remote.

At its core, Points of Inaccessibility considers what can be understood as the new rituals of capitalist realism. Irisarri uses the term digital shamanism to describe the forms of simulated connection that organize contemporary life. These systems promise comfort through algorithms, influencers and AI interlocutors, yet they often reproduce the same conditions that generate loneliness in the first place. What appears as connection becomes the echo of connection, a sequence of gestures that imitate solidarity while withholding it. Like the geographic poles, these rituals are defined by distance. They pull us into environments where everything is illuminated, yet meaningful proximity becomes increasingly rare. In this sense, the work approaches a hauntology of the present, a reflection on futures that have stalled and intimacies that have been thinned by the algorithmic infrastructures that surround us.

This thematic tension unfolds across the album’s four movements. Faded Ghosts of Clouds introduces the work with textures that rise and dissipate in slow cycles, creating an atmosphere that resists clear definition. Breaking the Unison occupies a pivotal position in the sequence and focuses on the moment when the individual and the system fall out of alignment. Its shifting patterns trace the scattering of signals that once suggested connection, revealing the instability at the heart of contemporary perception. Signals from a Distant Afterglow forms the center of the album and features vocals by Karen Vogt, whose presence enters the sound field like a fragile transmission shaped by distance and delay. The closing piece, Memory Strands, follows motifs that appear, recede and briefly intersect before returning to quiet. Across these movements, the album outlines a landscape in which emergence and disappearance continually inform one another.

Listening to Points of Inaccessibility is an encounter with a sound field that is constantly in flux. Elements surface briefly, shift position and recede, creating a sense of motion that resists stable interpretation. The music moves between closeness and vastness, carrying traces of memory while withholding a clear point of resolution.

The album’s visual identity completes the project’s conceptual arc. In Mexico City, where Irisarri and Schilp first met, Daniel Castrejón transformed stills from Schilp’s point-cloud visuals into the cover image. The final artwork captures a single suspended frame of the digital material, a moment extracted from a field that is normally in constant motion. Its surface recalls the texture and abstraction found in the work of Catalan artist Antoni Tàpies, where material presence and erasure coexist within the same plane.

What emerges is a work that examines the tension between technological systems and human presence. Points of Inaccessibility asks whether connection is still possible within environments shaped by mediation and delay, or whether we have become isolated points within the very networks that promise proximity. What possibilities for relation persist within environments organized by algorithms and interruption? And how are we meant to understand presence when so much of it is constructed at a distance?

Points of Inaccessibility will be released on BioVinyl on February 6, 2026, with audiovisual performances planned throughout 2026.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Artwork by Jaco Schilp
Design and layout by Daniel Castrejón
Artist photo by Iulia Alexandra Magheru.

In einer Zeit, wo alles immer mehr Digital und von KI dominiert wird, setzt Angelo Kelly auf Authentizität
und zwar auf allen Ebenen
Die Songs auf dem neuen Album „ALIVE“ wurden komplett von ihm geschrieben, arrangiert und produziert. Wer sich die Texte der Lieder anschaut wird schnell merken, dass sich einiges in seinem Leben
verändert hat. Er öffnet sich in seinen Songs mehr, als er es jemals in einem Interview tun würde.
Die Art, wie dieses Album produziert wurde, könnte auch nicht authentischer sein!
AK: „Mir war es wichtig das Album komplett analog auf einer Bandmaschine aufzunehmen ganz ohne
Computer. Meine Band und ich waren dabei alle im gleichen Aufnahmeraum und haben meine neuen
Songs gemeinsam in „One Takes” aufgenommen. Nichts wurde korrigiert und es gab auch keine Overdubs
/ Zusatzaufnahmen! So sind die Aufnahmen sicherlich nicht perfekt, und im Radio werden sie höchstwahrscheinlich nicht laufen, aber das ist die einzige Art Musik zu machen, die mich heute noch reizt und
interessiert.“
Das Album wurde dann auch komplett analog auf Band gemischt.
Und für alle, die sich dieses Werk auf Vinyl holen: Das Mastering wurde im letzten Schritt von Chris
Bellman analog vollendet.

In einer Zeit, wo alles immer mehr Digital und von KI dominiert wird, setzt Angelo Kelly auf Authentizität
und zwar auf allen Ebenen
Die Songs auf dem neuen Album „ALIVE“ wurden komplett von ihm geschrieben, arrangiert und produziert. Wer sich die Texte der Lieder anschaut wird schnell merken, dass sich einiges in seinem Leben
verändert hat. Er öffnet sich in seinen Songs mehr, als er es jemals in einem Interview tun würde.
Die Art, wie dieses Album produziert wurde, könnte auch nicht authentischer sein!
AK: „Mir war es wichtig das Album komplett analog auf einer Bandmaschine aufzunehmen ganz ohne
Computer. Meine Band und ich waren dabei alle im gleichen Aufnahmeraum und haben meine neuen
Songs gemeinsam in „One Takes” aufgenommen. Nichts wurde korrigiert und es gab auch keine Overdubs
/ Zusatzaufnahmen! So sind die Aufnahmen sicherlich nicht perfekt, und im Radio werden sie höchstwahrscheinlich nicht laufen, aber das ist die einzige Art Musik zu machen, die mich heute noch reizt und
interessiert.“
Das Album wurde dann auch komplett analog auf Band gemischt.
Und für alle, die sich dieses Werk auf Vinyl holen: Das Mastering wurde im letzten Schritt von Chris
Bellman analog vollendet.

Following the overwhelming response to the Warner remix series produced by Joe Claussell, with copies disappearing in hours-another Stella remix package steps forward. This is not part of the Edits & Overdubs series. No loops. No shortcuts. Like the previous release, Ashford & Simpson’s “Stay Free” was rebuilt straight from the original 48-track 2-inch multitrack tapes, resulting in two fully realized remix versions designed for the floor. The A-side delivers a 14+ minute deep, extended journey-patient, evolving, and powerful, injecting new life while honoring the soul of the original. The B-side flips the script with an Alternate Instrumental, stripped back and ready for late-night moments. Cut, tested, and refined on dance floors worldwide over several years, these versions have already proven their weight in real club settings. Pressed on green vinyl, housed in a heavy Japanese-style cardboard sleeve, and accompanied by a Warner-style disco promo one-sheet and bumper sticker-a nod to the golden era of 12” promos.

Limited to 300 copies. Similar to the Deodato Whistle Bump 12” - No repress. No extras.

Noctourniquet And then everything went black, at least for a while, at least for The Mars Volta. In the months and years following their fifth full-length, Octahedron, Omar kept on at his usual fearsome creative pace. In fact, he ramped up his output considerably, starting up his own Rodriguez Lopez Productions label and releasing a slew of solo albums. It was a practice he’d begun shortly after De-Loused’s release, with his solo debut A Manual Dexterity: Soundtrack Volume One, but as the decade reached its close, Omar grew to rely upon his solo recordings as an outlet for his prolific creativity, these albums often exploring musical pastures far beyond even The Mars Volta’s wide-ranging parameters. Before choosing to release music under his own name, Omar would always play it to Cedric first, to see if the frontman thought it had potential to become Mars Volta music. Shortly after Octahedron’s completion, Cedric flagged one batch of tracks Omar had cut with Deantoni Parks, a brilliant drummer and composer who’d briefly occupied the Mars Volta drumstool in-between Jon Theodore and Thomas Pridgen’s tenures, and whose volcanic creativity and unique, unpredictable approach to rhythm and composition had quickly made him one of Omar’s favourite artistic foils.

As with the music that made up Octahedron, the new tracks Cedric had optioned for The Mars Volta often veered far from the riotous, Grand Guignol visions of their earlier releases. It possessed the punchy, song-based focus of Octahedron, though this was a considerably darker, more menacing strain of pop, with synthesisers figuring heavily in the productions. Cedric took the tracks in 2009 and set about writing songs to the music. But no more new Mars Volta music would be heard until 2012. The years that passed in-between were nonetheless momentous, and busy, witnessing an unexpected reunion of the members of At The Drive-In, and Cedric joining his own side-project, Anywhere. But there wasn’t any sign of life within the Mars Volta until Omar, Cedric and their bandmates took to the road for a series of live shows in the spring of 2011, billed as The Omar Rodriguez-Lopez Group, debuting the songs that would become Noctourniquet. The album followed the next year, and it remains one of The Mars Volta’s finest, its electronic textures staking out unfamiliar but fertile new ground.

An unsettling, subtly turbulent listen, Noctourniquet found Cedric sketching out a story about “some sort of device that stops the darkness from bleeding”, drawing influence variously from the nursery rhyme Solomon Grundy, the Greek myth of Hyacinthus and the song Birth, School, Work, Death by British underground rockers The Godfathers. It was an album of dystopian futurism, signalled by the paranoid cyber-rock of opener The Whip Hand and its unnerving chorus, “That’s when I disconnect from you”. But it was also an album of inspired, unexpected moves and uncanny invention, like how Dyslexicon seemed to eerily evoke Blondie’s Rapture, before rushing headlong into its bruising chorus, tempos shifting restlessly throughout like quaking earth beneath the listener’s feet, or how Aegis put a brave new spin on The Mars Volta’s trademark rewiring of salsa’s overdriven passions, or how Cedric had never sounded as scary as he did on The Malkin Jewel’s mutant burlesque shuffle. Tracks like Molochwalker were sleek and concise in a way The Mars Volta had never really attempted before – which was all part of Omar’s plan.

“It had all been guitar, guitar, guitar, overdubs, everything fighting for space in the same frequency,” he explains. “So for Noctourniquet, it was all about subtracting elements, of sticking to how I made demos.” Deantoni’s presence helped revivify the group, playing against cliché and expectation, and taking each song in unexpected directions. “I’d beatbox a rhythm for him to play, to go with my guitar part, and he’d come back with three or four alternate options. It was so great.” Similarly, Cedric had never sung better than on Noctourniquet, staking out a fearsome spectrum from the chilling Tom Waitsian growl of The Malkin Jewel to the keening, beautiful vocalisation on Vedamalady, rising to match some of Omar’s most deft, most immediately effective and melodic songs yet. Indeed, Noctourniquet is the sound of a band discovering new ways to do familiar things, renewing their commitment to their mission, finding fresh inspiration a decade in, and shaking off any complacency that might have come with ten years of acclaim and success.

Grupo um celebrate 50 years with release of lost dictatorship-era album nineteen seventy seven!

First time release - vinyl comes with printed innersleeves

Brazilian avant-jazz vanguardists Grupo Um celebrate their 50th anniversary, sharing a second previously lost 1970s album from the vaults. Nineteen Seventy Seven (titled after the year it was recorded) is another rip-roaring instrumental fusion treasure from the band which spawned from within Hermeto Pascoal’s famed mid-1970s São Paulo collective.

Like their debut album Starting Point, Grupo Um’s Nineteen Seventy Seven was recorded when Brazil's military dictatorship was at its most repressive. “There were no open doors to those who dreamt to be protagonists in creative instrumental music”, remembers drummer Zé Eduardo Nazario, “even popular composers and singers had to submit their songs to censors and many records were banned and confiscated from the stores.”

Just like Hermeto Pascoal's Viajando Com O Som (1977) and Grupo Um's previous album Starting Point (1975), both of which remained unreleased until the 21st century, Zé Eduardo asserts that the 1977 album was flatly 'without any chance to be released at that time."

Recorded at Rogério Duprat’s Vice-Versa Studios in São Paulo, the group were under both time and space restraints, “we chose the small Studio B,” Lelo Nazario recalls, “which had a Tascam (TE AC) 12x8 console and a 4-channel AMPEX AG 440 machine. Therefore, we had to record without overdubs, everything straight to tape.”

Expanding from a trio to a quintet, original Grupo Um members Lelo Nazario (keys), Zé Eduardo Nazario (drums), and Zeca Assumpção (bass) were joined by saxophonist Roberto Sion and percussionist Carlinhos Gonçalves. Carlinhos, Zé and Zeca had already played together in the group Mandala, while brothers Lelo and Zé had just finished a stint backing Hermeto Pascoal during his years in São Paulo.

Lelo was deeply immersed in modular synthesizer experimentation during this period, working extensively with the ARP2600 and EMS Synthi AKS. These electroacoustic explorations formed the sonic foundation for "Mobile/Stabile," one of his first compositions to merge modular synthesis with Brazilian music, a fusion that would ripple throughout the Brazilian jazz scene. The piece premiered at the first São Paulo International Jazz Festival in 1978, performed by Grupo Um with guest trumpeter Márcio Montarroyos. In a shocking moment, festival organizers interrupted the show mid-performance, sparking fierce backlash from both audience members and journalists who denounced the incident as artistic censorship during Brazil's era of political and cultural repression. The version on Nineteen Seventy Seven is the first recording of the composition.

Nineteen Seventy Seven combines Afro-Brazilian rhythm, modular synthesis and a plethora of whistles, percussion and effects pedals. Album opener “Absurdo Mudo” - so titled for the absurd difficulty it poses to the musicians performing it - starts out in a cloud of mysterious dissonance, before the haze breaks for a glorious keyboard and saxophone interplay atop an uptempo samba groove. “Cortejo dos Reis Negros (Version 2)” (Procession of the Black Kings), based on the maracatu rhythm, inverts the traditional jazz song structure by beginning with improvisations, which are followed by the theme and a final coda. “The studio also had two Parasound electronic reverb units,” Lelo notes, “and the timbre is very audible on the soprano sax and percussion.”

Grupo Um’s daring music represents a manifesto of resistance during the dictatorship years, but it’s one which remains just as relevant today. As Lelo puts it: “For me, the aesthetic issue has always been about combining contemporary avant-garde languages with Brazilian music, independent of categories and commercial interests. The result of this fusion takes music to a new level.”

Recording credits (1977)
Recorded at Vice-Versa B Studio, São Paulo, November 9, 1977
Produced by Lelo Nazario and Zé Eduardo Nazario
Engineered by Ricardo “Franja” Carvalheira



Lelo Nazario – Wurlitzer electric piano, acoustic piano, signal generator, percussion

Zé Eduardo Nazario – drums, percussion

Zeca Assumpção – electric bass

Carlinhos Gonçalves – percussion

Roberto Sion – soprano sax, clarinet

Release credits (2025)
Produced by UTOPIA Studio, São Paulo
Project Coordination in Brazil by Irati Antonio (Utopia Studio)
Tape Restoration and Digital Mastering by Lelo Nazario at Utopia Studio, July 2025
Liner Notes by Lelo Nazario and Zé Eduardo Nazario
Photography by Jorge Las Heras, Lelo Nazario, and artists' personal archives
Photo Restoration by Lelo Nazario
Artwork and Design by Alessandro Renaldin

"When The Wind Forgets Your Name" ist das erste neue Built to Spill -Album seit der Veröffentlichung von "Untethered Moon" aus dem Jahr 2015 und das achte Studioalbum dr langlebigen Band um Mastermind Doug Martsch. Es wurde von Martsch produziert, von Martsch, Lê Almeida, Joao Casaes und Josh Lewis gemischt und von Mell Dettmer gemastert. Das Cover Artwork wurde von dem Comiczeichner Alex Graham (Dog Biscuits; Fantagraphics Books) gestaltet, der auch den fünfzigteiligen Comicstrip für das Klappcover des Albums illustriert hat (erhältlich mit den CD-, LP- und MC-Ausgaben des Albums). Seit 1992 wollte Doug Martsch, Gründer von Built to Spill, dass seine geliebte Band ein gemeinschaftliches Projekt ist, eine sich ständig weiterentwickelnde Gruppe von unglaublichen Musikern, die gemeinsam Musik machen und live spielen. Nach mehreren Alben und EPs auf Independent-Labels stand Martsch von 1995 bis 2016 bei Warner Brothers unter Vertrag. In dieser Zeit nahmen er und seine wechselnden Mitstreiter sechs unbestreitbar großartige Alben auf - "Perfect From Now On", "Keep It Like A Secret", "Ancient Melodies Of The Future", "You In Reverse", "There Is No Enemy", "Untethered Moon". "When The Wind Forgets Your Name" setzt nun die Erweiterung des Built to Spill -Universums auf neue und aufregende Weise fort. Im Jahr 2018 brachten Martschs Glück und seine Intuition ihn mit dem brasilianischen Lo-Fi-Punk-Künstler und Produzenten Le Almeida und seinem langjährigen Mitstreiter Joao Casaes zusammen, beide von der psychedelischen Jazz-Rock-Band ORUA. Als Martsch ihre Musik entdeckte, verliebte er sich sofort in sie und bat sie bei Built to Spill mitzumachen, als er eine neue Begleitband für Auftritte in Brasilien brauchte. Die Auftritte in Brasilien liefen so gut, dass Martsch, Almeida und Casaes beschlossen, 2019 weiter zusammen zu spielen und durch die USA und Europa zu touren. Bei Soundchecks erlernten sie neue Songs, die Martsch geschrieben hatte, und als die Tournee zu Ende war, nahmen sie die Bass- und Schlagzeugspuren in seinem Proberaum in Boise auf. Nachdem sie nach Hause geflogen waren, begann Martsch selbst mit dem Overdubbing von Gitarren und Gesang. Das gemeinschaftliche Abmischen fand während der Pandemie übers Internet statt, in dem die Tracks hin und her geschickt wurden. Herausgekommen ist "When The Wind Forgets Your Name", eine komplexe und schlüssige Mischung aus den unterschiedlichen musikalischen Ideen der Künstler. Neben den poetischen Texten und Themen von Built to Spill sorgen die Experimente und die Liebe zum Detail für ein Album voller einzigartiger, lebendiger und zeitloser Klänge.

Limitierte Loser Edition, gepresst auf "Misty Kiwi Fruit Green" farbiges Vinyl. "When The Wind Forgets Your Name" ist das erste neue Built to Spill -Album seit der Veröffentlichung von "Untethered Moon" aus dem Jahr 2015 und das achte Studioalbum dr langlebigen Band um Mastermind Doug Martsch. Es wurde von Martsch produziert, von Martsch, Lê Almeida, Joao Casaes und Josh Lewis gemischt und von Mell Dettmer gemastert. Das Cover Artwork wurde von dem Comiczeichner Alex Graham (Dog Biscuits; Fantagraphics Books) gestaltet, der auch den fünfzigteiligen Comicstrip für das Klappcover des Albums illustriert hat (erhältlich mit den CD-, LP- und MC-Ausgaben des Albums). Seit 1992 wollte Doug Martsch, Gründer von Built to Spill, dass seine geliebte Band ein gemeinschaftliches Projekt ist, eine sich ständig weiterentwickelnde Gruppe von unglaublichen Musikern, die gemeinsam Musik machen und live spielen. Nach mehreren Alben und EPs auf Independent-Labels stand Martsch von 1995 bis 2016 bei Warner Brothers unter Vertrag. In dieser Zeit nahmen er und seine wechselnden Mitstreiter sechs unbestreitbar großartige Alben auf - "Perfect From Now On", "Keep It Like A Secret", "Ancient Melodies Of The Future", "You In Reverse", "There Is No Enemy", "Untethered Moon". "When The Wind Forgets Your Name" setzt nun die Erweiterung des Built to Spill -Universums auf neue und aufregende Weise fort. Im Jahr 2018 brachten Martschs Glück und seine Intuition ihn mit dem brasilianischen Lo-Fi-Punk-Künstler und Produzenten Le Almeida und seinem langjährigen Mitstreiter Joao Casaes zusammen, beide von der psychedelischen Jazz-Rock-Band ORUA. Als Martsch ihre Musik entdeckte, verliebte er sich sofort in sie und bat sie bei Built to Spill mitzumachen, als er eine neue Begleitband für Auftritte in Brasilien brauchte. Die Auftritte in Brasilien liefen so gut, dass Martsch, Almeida und Casaes beschlossen, 2019 weiter zusammen zu spielen und durch die USA und Europa zu touren. Bei Soundchecks erlernten sie neue Songs, die Martsch geschrieben hatte, und als die Tournee zu Ende war, nahmen sie die Bass- und Schlagzeugspuren in seinem Proberaum in Boise auf. Nachdem sie nach Hause geflogen waren, begann Martsch selbst mit dem Overdubbing von Gitarren und Gesang. Das gemeinschaftliche Abmischen fand während der Pandemie übers Internet statt, in dem die Tracks hin und her geschickt wurden. Herausgekommen ist "When The Wind Forgets Your Name", eine komplexe und schlüssige Mischung aus den unterschiedlichen musikalischen Ideen der Künstler. Neben den poetischen Texten und Themen von Built to Spill sorgen die Experimente und die Liebe zum Detail für ein Album voller einzigartiger, lebendiger und zeitloser Klänge.

In March 2025, "On the Love Beach" performed solo shows in Shanghai and Beijing with Toushi Naoki to great success.

2025 marks the 30th anniversary of their memorable debut album, "On the Love Beach," and the band's first three albums are being reissued on CD and vinyl!

All three albums use the original master tapes, and each has been thoroughly remastered under the supervision of Shinji Shibayama for high-quality sound!

"On the Love Beach"'s third album, released in 1999, is a two-disc masterpiece that holds a unique position in the band's history, and many fans secretly cherish
the original LP version.

Shibayama's motivation for recording this album was to explore whether the concept he experimented with with Hallelujahs—"pursuing the uniqueness and
improvisation of the performance itself within the format of a pre-written song"—would work in a fixed band format rather than a session, and what the results would be.
It was a bold (and reckless) production approach: all basic tracks, including the lead vocals, were recorded live in the studio in one take, with no re-recordings allowed,
and overdubs like the chorus were kept to a minimum.

Although there are discrepancies between the punk-inspired performances and vocals due to the unedited concept, this is a rare example of the wild energy of a
band captured so authentically with such high sound quality in Jap-rock, and, regardless of its merits or demerits, it is undeniably compelling.

The raw sound quality, capturing the irreversible, fleeting interplay, demonstrates the outstanding engineering sense of Peace Music's Nakamura Soichiro,
and the pride of the rock band "Nagisa Nite" is evident throughout.

It's also noteworthy that this "Nagisa Nite" album contains the most solo works by Masako Takeda. Naturally, it's meticulously remastered from the original
master tapes for exceptional sound quality!

After last year's widely acclaimed third full- length album "Bloem" found its way into the hearts and minds of many listeners, it did not take long for the duo of M. Koops and B. Mollema to return to the studio and record an immediate follow up. But do not be fooled by this quick succession of releases; "Gegrepen door de Geest der Zielsontluiking" is in many ways a polar opposite of what "Bloem" had to offer. Guided by a spirit of self- transcendence, Fluisteraars sought to indulge in a deep current of animalistic urge. From murky depths to the high towers of the soul, "Gegrepen..." is an exaltation of a new language, a breaking down of barriers and revaluation of underlying routine. Utilizing a minimalist and spontaneous recording style proved fruitful in this endeavor: only doing one take of every instrument, only recording the natural acoustics of the room instead of the close- up registration of sound so ingrained in modern production. The duo recorded exactly one song each studioday. No overdubs, no synths - they started every day by setting up a new sound palette for each song.

Full of joy, they ran to meet him.
Then threw one of the shirts over each of them,
and when the shirts touched their bodies they were transformed into swans,
and flew away over the woods.
The record is comprised of a series of improvised recordings made over the course of an evening in Autumn ’23, captured at the Jabu home studio, south Bristol while Teresa was staying in town for a show. Everything was recorded into the desk in a single take and left as it was, no editing or overdubs, instruments were swapped around and effects units left buzzing ground hum scattered over the floor.
Teresa and Guest (Jasmine of Jabu) provided the vocals, taking words from anything at hand - poetry books, an old copy of the Whole Earth Catalog - their voices winding together, echoing out each other’s melodies. This approach is mirrored by the instrumentals, anchored by something at times - a bassline, one of Birthmark’s synth drones or a fizzing chord but always on the edge of collapsing in on itself or floating away. The tracks become more soporific as the record goes on (and as the night got later), ending on a refrain of ‘say you think its true’ as the instrumental finally dissolves the pedals get dialled up to 11 and Birthmark’s drones turn into distant lasers in a last swan song of feedback.
Recorded Sep 2023 in Bristol, BS3, by:
Teresa Winter (vocals, fx)
Guest (vocals, guitar, fx)
Birthmark (synth, fx)
A.Childs (samples, bass, guitar)

Roughly three years after the release of Balts, Schreel Van De Velde’s debut album on Blickwinkel, the guitar and drums improv-centered duo is happy to present their sophomore album A One And A Two.

The Brussels-based musicians sound more decisive than ever: the loud became louder, the quiet became quieter, the weird became weirder and the nostalgic became more nostalgic. The fruit peeled off one of its own shells, getting closer to its heart.

The album came about as a result of 2 separate studio sessions. For a first one, they restricted themself to solely electric guitar and drums, without overdubs, and with most songs ending up as one-takers. A second one took place some months later in a different recording space, using classical guitar with a matching small, cute drum set-up.

On both sessions, the duo played the same compositions, with some additional improvisations. Afterwards they made a blend of both sessions, mixing both energies: A One And A Two. A new language, organic and well-considered, was found.

Throughout the album, touches of minimalism, American primitivism, free-improv, and 90s indie rock can be found, but always within the limits of Schreel Van De Veldes freshly found voice: one that combines sentiment and cerebrality, overview, playfulness and mystery.

Lucas Schreel is a classically trained guitarist based in Brussels. His first solo album We're Never Afraid of Getting Up Every Morning was released through Sentimental Records in 2019 and was well-received both in written-press (Humo, Enola & Indiestyle) and radio (Duyster, Radio 1 & Klara). Besides his solo work, Schreel is also a member of the lo-fi indierockband Kloothommel.
Acclaimed Brussels percussionist Casper Van De Velde made quite a name for himself through his bands like SCHNTZL, Bombataz, Donder among others. His work received prices at International Jazz Contest d’Avignon and Storm! Contest (Jazzlab). Casper is currently also a member of the recently formed An Pierlé Quartet.

A meditative, folk-inflected score rooted in improvisation, ‘Dragon’s return’ echoes the soul of A film long buried behind the Iron Curtain



With Dragon’s Return, Australian composer and multi-instrumentalist Oren Ambarchi and Norwegian guitarist Fredrik Rasten present a new, meditative score to Eduard Grecner’s eponymous 1967 Slovak cult film — a stark, black-and-white parable.



The album captures a unique live performance recorded at the Videodroom Festival during Film Fest Ghent in October 2024, where this new score premiered alongside the film in collaboration with the Slovak Film Institute. What began as a fleeting, improvisational encounter between music and image has since taken on a life of its own — an evocative sound world that retains its power even in the absence of visuals.



The album will be available on vinyl and all digital platforms from September 12 via VIERNULVIER Records. The vinyl edition includes an obi strip, a booklet with film stills, and extensive liner notes on the film.



The label is known for shedding new light on forgotten films through reimagined soundtracks — claire rousay’s acclaimed The Bloody Lady being the most recent example.


“Folklore meets avant-garde in an ancient drama - a ballad about love, hate and finding a way out of loneliness” - Rastislav Steranka (Slovak Film Institute)



Ambarchi and Rasten do not accompany the images so much as speak through them. Their interplay — on guitars, flutes, percussion, and voice — unfolds slowly, without a fixed destination, culminating in subtle, entrancing drones. With few breaks or ruptures, this trippy, folk-inflected continuous composition invites surrender.



Rasten’s 12-string guitar and delicate use of voice create layered textures that shimmer and shift. Ambarchi, known for his electro-acoustic work, here explores a radically softer mode — strumming, bowing and coaxing tones from his instrument as though it were a string section unto itself. He blows into shells, adding breath and texture to the sonic palette, touching on something elemental.


Together, they evoke a sound world that feels both ritualistic and strangely familiar — as if echoing from a forgotten ceremony or dreamed into being after hearing an old folk tale. Rooted in improvisation, the music speaks in tones both intimate and expansive, shaped live in dialogue with the film and with each other, with only minimal overdubs added afterward.

The song titles on Van Halen's aptly titled Fair Warning don't lie. The likes of "Unchained," "Mean Street," "Push Comes to Shove," "One Foot Out the Door," and more indicate the mood the band channels on its double-platinum 1981 record — the nastiest, darkest, and fiercest album of the group's storied career. For the fourth time in four years, Van Halen throws down the gauntlet to all challengers and emerges victorious.


Sourced from the original analog tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at Fidelity Record Pressing, and strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set plays with unfettered clarity, dynamics, and immediacy. Benefitting from superb groove definition, an ultra-low noise floor, and dead-quiet surfaces, this vinyl edition captures what went down in the studio with tremendous realism and involving presence.

Taking a more controlled approach in the studio and still completing everything in less than two weeks, Van Halen and producer Ted Templeman relied on studio amplifiers to direct the sound. Further diverging from the live-on-the-floor approach of its earlier albums, the ensemble also employed overdubs to great effect. The result: Dense, stacked architecture that underlines the hard-hitting tenor of the songs — and which comes alive like never before on this reference edition that looks as good as it sounds.

The premium packaging and gorgeous presentation befit the reissue's select status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Aurally and visually, it is made for listeners who want to immerse themselves in everything involved with the album, including the iconic cover art adopted from William Kurelek's haunting painting, "The Maze."

Isolated frames from Kurelek's childhood-inspired work — including a man bashing his head into a brick wall, a guy pinning down an adversary as he delivers bare-fist blows to his face and others watch with apparent glee, a boy tied down on a conveyer belt and being sent through the equivalent of a meat saw — adorn the front and back covers. The sunnier visual disposition of Van Halen's prior efforts gives way to something sinister and tortured, traits reflective of the music within. The band members, too, are visually depicted not in glamorous shots but in a serious black-and-white portrait in which the quartet is clad in black leather jackets.

Tough, aggressive, stark: Fair Warning comes on like a series of bare-knuckled punches to the solar plexus and boasts lyrical narratives to match. Though not a concept record, the concise album revolves around themes of roughing it on the streets and struggling to survive amid dim prospects. Singer David Lee Roth reportedly penned many of the initial lyrics after traveling to Haiti and observing extreme poverty. The characters and situations populating Fair Warning reflect hardscrabble existence, last-chance desperation, and underlying danger.

Witness the crazies, poor folks, and hunters of “Mean Street”; the former prom queen turned pornographic actress on “Dirty Movies”; the menace and vice of “Sinners Swing!”; the streetwise hustle of “Unchained”; the isolation and alienation of “Push Comes to Shove”; the desire for escape on “One Foot Out the Door”: A carefree California beach party Fair Warning is not.

Having said he felt angry and frustrated during the sessions, guitarist Eddie Van Halen uses the forceful arrangements as a playground for his seemingly unlimited arsenal. Supported by a crack rhythm section and a hyped-up Roth, he performs with an almost impossible combination of punk-like intensity, technical finesse, lyrical fluidity, and unbridled emotion. The virtuoso was increasingly butting heads with Templeton and seeking a freedom in the studio he believed denied him.

No wonder he plays like a bat out of hell. Listen to the rapid-fire manner in which he slaps the high and low E strings on the 12th fret of his instrument on “Mean Street,” instilling the tune with funk flair and metal-spiked sharpness. For the pouty strut of “Dirty Movies,” Eddie Van Halen contributes slide guitar magic made possible after he sawed off the lower portion of a Gibson SG so he could reach further down the fretboard.

Related intensity, urgency, and daredevil momentum punctuate the surging “Sinner’s Swing!” A heavily flanged, delicately melodic introduction frames the attitudinal “Hear About It Later,” among the most creative arrangements of Van Halen’s career. And do riffs come any bigger or magnetic than those on the high-wire kick of “Unchained”? As for the out-of-left-field “Sunday in the Park,” an instrumental composed on an Electro-Harmonix micro-synthesizer: Who but Eddie Van Halen to supply creep factor in such an ingenious way?

Despite selling fewer quantities than Van Halen’s prior efforts, Fair Warning remains for many diehards the record that epitomizes all of the band’s immense strengths —Roth’s manic energy and tongue-wagging humor, Alex Van Halen’s rhythmic heartbeat-in-your-chest bombast, and Michael Anthony’s lucid bass lines included. Arriving when the New Wave of British Heavy Metal and new-wave movements were taking flight, it signaled a shot across the bow from a band determined to stay a step ahead and provide proof nobody could touch what it delivered.

More than four decades later, Fair Warning still sounds that alarm.

James Brown wants to know one thing before he and his band begin Sex Machine. “Can I get into the thing, really?,” he asks. His cohorts enthusiastically respond in the affirmative. And for the next hour and change, Mr. Dynamite gets into it and more, turning in a sweat-soaked, feet-moving, hip-swiveling, emotion-purging, in-the-red, drop-everything-you’re-doing-and-dance performance for the ages. Ranked by Rolling Stone among the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, the sweeping 1970 effort towers as a testament to Brown’s inimitable legacy as well as the peak powers of his voice, vibrancy, and bands.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set presents Sex Machine in audiophile sound for the first time. It explodes with the energy the lightning-strike music demands. Dynamic, immediate, present, airy: Everything from the brassiness and fluidity of the horns to the snap and decay of the snare to the swell and carry of the organ comes across in full-range perspective.

Then there’s Brown’s superhuman singing, which here emerges with a purity, naturalism, and transparency that ensure you feel everything. Screeching, shouting, pleading, moaning, preaching, stinging, commanding, testifying, crooning, humming: The Godfather of Soul contributes one of the finest vocal performances known to man. This definitive 55th anniversary reissue of Brown’s monster funk statement further exhibits a combination of clarity, solidity, separation, and imaging that helps bring to light what he and his crack ensembles committed to tape. Both in the studio and on the stage.

Just how lifelike does this reissue sound? Senior Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab engineer Krieg Wunderlich, who handled the remaster, notes: “There were some artifacts that sounded a bit like mistracking. But they turned out to be breath blasts on the vocal microphone. That is part of history. JB was workin' hard, and breathin' hard. And there was an edit the timing of that was truly strange. Again, a part of history.”

Originally marketed as a live album, Sex Machine contains six songs recorded in the studio and later overdubbed with canned crowd noise and reverberation. Save for “Low Down Popcorn,” the tracks on the latter half stem from a phenomenal performance captured in October 1969 at Bell Auditorium in Brown’s adopted hometown of Augusta, GA. The special relationship between the singer, the audience, and the location is palpable.

As the 1960s gave way to a new decade, Brown experienced immense success and dealt with unexpected change. Soul Brother Number One soon expanded his idea for an official live album captured in Augusta when the ensemble that backed him on that date morphed into the original version of the world-famous J.B.’s just months after the show. The virtuosic abilities, sticky chemistry, and rhythm-forward nature of the J.B.’s prompted him to book a one-off session in Cincinnati, OH, on a late July night.

Anchored by brothers William “Bootsy” Collins and Phelps “Catfish” Collins, the group — as well as two different drummers — laid down a nearly 11-minute rendition of “Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” and a thrilling medley of “Bewildered,” “I Got the Feeling,” and “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose.” A pair of then-recent studio singles cut in separate locations in 1969, “Brother Rapp” and “Low Down Popcorn,” each featuring his prior group, took care of the second LP worth of material that complements the originally planned live set.

Complicated? Somewhat. Unusual? Definitely. But just as he elevated the expectations for all present and future R&B artists, Brown not only makes it all work. He makes it positively electrifying.

“Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” is alone deserving of a dissertation on the art of funk music, seeing it moves up and down akin to an oil derrick, witnesses Brown unleashing a trademark series of grunts, squeaks, and “good god” asides, and glides to a hypnotic groove that won’t quit. Or look to the syncopated rhythms of “Brother Rapp (Part I and Part II),” one of multiple pieces here that signify the point where Brown began viewing every instrument as a percussive tool. Brown closes the three-song medley with his new band with a skedaddling “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose,” which provides jolts on the order of sticking your finger into a socket.

Not that the actual live material falls short in any way. Setting an insistent tempo for the vitality that follows, “I Don’t Want Nobody to Give Me Nothing” positions Brown as a role model, leader, and self-sufficient entrepreneur. All simmer and boil, the short and sweet “Licking Stick” dares you to keep pace. The floating, almost comforting “Spinning Wheel” spotlights the instrumental prowess of Maceo Parker and company, and functions as a seamless segue into the tender, horn-saluted “If I Ruled the World.”

And Brown and his mates still aren’t done. Just try to resist the one-two closing punch of “I Can’t Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)” and “Mother Popcorn.” Mercy.

Ain’t it funky? Sure ‘nuff.

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

Info: Slow-burn funk, tribal wrong-speed chug and a boogie-disco breaker — three floor-fillers that creep, groove and bounce.



A low & loose opening with a reworking of 'Night People' – with intro and outro stretched, drum breaks extended, and percussive overdubs layered - the EP sets the tone with a warm-up tool that fills a floor almost unnoticed at 98 BPM. From there, 'Lions' prowls as a 45rpm slowed down to a hypnotic, percussive workout laced with chants and tribal drive, closing with 'Breakin’, a rogue boogie–disco hybrid bursting with bongos and breakbeats: Absolute DJ fuel.

Coke Bottle Clear vinyl. Jun 25, 2021 (EST) CD MRG755cd 673855075525 $6.00 Jun 25, 2021 (EST) LP - Black MRG755lp 673855075518 $11.00 Dec 02, 2022 (EST) LP - Coke Bottle Clear MRG755lp-dlx-C1 673855075556 $12.50 TOTAL Quietly Blowing It was written and arranged by Taylor in his home studio_his 8' x 10' sanctuary packed floor to ceiling with books, records, and old guitars_as he watched the chaotic world spin outside his window. "Writing became a daily routine," he explains, "and that was a ballast for me. Having spent so much time on the road over the past ten years, where writing consistently with any kind of flow can be tricky, it felt refreshing. And being in my studio, which is both isolated from and totally connected to the life of my family, felt appropriate for these songs." Between March and June, Taylor wrote and recorded upwards of two dozen songs_in most cases playing all of the instruments himself_before winnowing the collection down and bringing them to the Hiss band. In July, the group of musicians, with Taylor in the production seat, went into Overdub Lane in Durham, NC, for a week, where they recorded Quietly Blowing It as an organic unit honed to a fine edge from their years together on the road. "We all needed to be making that music together," he recalls. "We've all spent so many years traveling all over the world, but in that moment, it felt cathartic to be recording those particular songs with each other in our own small hometown."

The inimitable Richard Youngs returns to Black Truffle with this third full-length for the label, Hidden. Like CXXI and Modern Sorrow, Hidden unfolds across two side-long pieces at once eminently listenable and possessed of the ‘bloody-minded’ dedication to ‘having an idea and sticking with it’ that Youngs himself has identified as one of the key qualities of his work.

At the core of both pieces are rapid, randomised arpeggios generated with a Moog Grandmother, hypnotic patterns that wouldn’t be out of place on a Berlin School classic. Alongside these arpeggios, across the seventeen minutes of the first side-long piece Youngs builds an airy structure of shakers, synthetic handclaps and a brief, repeated sample, impossible to identify but sounding like a glitched foghorn. Over the top we hear his unmistakable voice, repeating single syllables—Ha, Ho—with a slow delay, something like a lonely one-man-band take on Anthony Moore’s Pieces from the Cloudland Ballroom or a more musical elaboration of the hypnotically overlapping delayed phonemes of Anton Bruhin’s Rotomotor. Like much of Youngs' work, the arrangement of sounds is sparse, each layer punctuated by spaces that allow others to shine through, in a way that seems to have more to do with dub or early hip-hop than high-brow models of musical reductionism.

On the flipside, the arpeggios return, now accompanied by ringing, filtered guitar chords and long flute tones. The use of a similar ground layer across the two pieces with strikingly different overdubs calls up Youngs' first solo record, the classic Advent, reminding us of how consistent ‘theme and variations’ is as an approach in his enormous body of work. Joined by handclaps and a chiming sound, the piece almost feels like it is about to achieve dance-floor lift-off at times, only for the percussion to disappear and leave the listener once again floating among the guitar and flute, now joined by occasional cut-off vocal snippets, like a radio turned quickly on and off. The suspension of these disparate elements over the steady foundation of the Moog arpeggios might remind some listeners of the free-form studio explorations of Moebius & Plank and Holger Czukay or even give a nod to Youngs’ formative encounter with Cabaret Voltaire.

Like some of Youngs’ much-loved work with Simon Wickham-Smith, Hidden approaches relatively familiar sounds and instruments from skewed angles, delighting in loose structures of interaction that border on gleeful incoherence while remaining outwardly beautiful. Coming up to almost four decades of persistent activity, like little else in contemporary music Youngs’ work beams with the simple joys of exploration and experiment.