Cerca:parallel

Daskal debuts on DJ Tennis’s Life and Death label today with the release of “Changes,” the first single from his forthcoming album OD, out March 6. The release marks a defining moment for the producer and composer, whose work moves fluidly between contemporary dance, film, and electronic music, and represents his first full-length statement reconnecting his compositional practice with the dancefloor.

“Changes” arrives alongside a striking accompanying video directed by award-winning filmmaker Tamir Faingold, featuring dancers from the world-renowned Batsheva Dance Company. Rather than functioning as a traditional music video, the piece uses contemporary dance as its primary language, translating the emotional charge and magnetism of nightlife into movement. Together, the single and visual introduction frame OD as a bridge between club culture and the expressive traditions of modern dance and composition.

A classically trained composer with deep ties to the world of choreography, Daskal has spent recent years creating original scores for institutions including Los Angeles Dance Project and the Royal Danish Ballet, while simultaneously developing a parallel body of work across ambient and experimental electronic music. OD emerges as a convergence of those paths: a ten-track album shaped as much by physical movement and spatial awareness as by club tradition, positioning Daskal between concert hall, black box theater, and late-night club environments.

Recorded and mixed primarily using vintage hardware — including a rare 1980s German mixer in a high-end Tel Aviv jazz studio — OD reflects a deliberate shift away from purely atmospheric writing toward rhythm, repetition, and physicality, while retaining the precision and restraint of his compositional background.

2026 Repress

To enter the world of Sally Townes and Roberta Vandervort is to be swept away into a dimension of unique sound. Embellishments of smoldering jazz funk, seductive soft rock, breezy AOR, and misty folk, all paint a picture of the worlds which they inhabited; from the endless flat expanse of Dallas, the hot and humid bustle of a Bourbon Street night club, to the late night buzz of a Los Angeles studio session.
While Sally Townes and Roberta Vandervort never crossed paths in our reality, their supernatural union on this compilation feels like the meeting of old, yet familiar friends, set in a parallel dimension with lives intertwined. The songs feel like old friends, too — a comforting time capsule of the popular sounds of the era, yet offering something completely new. Bridged by the striking similarities in their musical confidence, vocal conviction, and boundless creativity, both women encapsulate an uncompromising passion for living, loving, and creating on their own terms.

Transp. Pearl White Vinyl

Super Rhythm Trax are proud to present this reissue of one of the most loved, most underground and most sought after Breakbeat Hardcore records from 1991. Raw rugged and authentic, no silly chipmunk vocals or twee piano here, oh no!

Carefully remastered from the original dat tapes, both original versions of Underkut “Both Ends” are now available at a reasonable price after 35 years!!

Since its original release in 1991 it quickly gathered legendary status with it’s super slamming breaks and ‘that’ huge Bassline, it doesn’t get any better than this.

On the DAT tape, we also chanced upon an unreleased, unheard version, and We include this unheard vocal mix as an ‘of it’s time’ artefact for the collectors, as it really accentuates the record’s obvious HipHop leanings and there are parallels to be drawn with the whole Britcore movement of the time, where crews like Hijack, Gunshot, Cash Crew, Demon Boyz and London Posse were flourishing.

Brown Spirits are a super-heavy psychedelic three-piece band who play raw energetic super-charged psych rock heavily influenced by krautrock, freejazz and deep funk music from the 1970s that gives them a truly unique and highly addictive sound. The group record and mix their own music to ¼-
inch analogue tape at home maintaining a strictly DIY-ethic.

Brown Spirits are Tim Wold, Agostino Soldati and Ash Buscombe. The group are from the suburbs of Melbourne, Australia, home to an ever-growing
music scene that includes Amyl and the Sniffers, King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard, Surprise Chef, Tropical Fuck Storm and more.
The group have already released two superb critically-acclaimed album on Soul Jazz Records – ‘Cosmic Seeds’ and Solitary Transmissions’.
Soul Jazz Records are releasing three new albums from the Australian group on one day. All three albums are super-limited one-off special coloured
vinyl pressings of just 500 copies each that will all be deleted on the day of release.

These three albums were originally released (between 2017-2020) in long-deleted very short run-editions - either self-released in Australia or on an
indie German psych label. No copies of Brown Spirits #2 or Brown Spirits #3 are currently available anywhere in the world. Both of Brown Spirits two
earlier releases for Soul Jazz Records are also sold out on vinyl and these three super-limited special edition LPs will also sell out.

DJ Support: Laurent Garnier, Dennis Cruz, Girls Of The Internet, Horse Meat Disco, Stacey Pullen, Elliot Schooling, Solomun,Marco Carola, Joseph Capriati, The Martinez Brothers, Dam Swindle, Soul Clap, Luke Solomon, Riva Starr, Franky Rizardo, Archie Hamilton, Silvie Loto, Fouk, Austin Ato, Salomé Le Chat, Blackchild, Jean Pierre, Black Loops, Kassian, Seamus Haji, Melvo Baptiste, Rimarkable, Sophie Lloyd

In-demand Amsterdam-based duo Makèz step into new ground with the release of their album ‘Arriving Home Elsewhere’, via ANOTR’s No Art label. A kaleidoscopic project that moves between deep house, cosmic jazz, R&B, broken beat, and club-ready energy, the record is both a declaration of identity and a dissolution of boundaries - proof of the duo’s rare ability to merge worlds without diluting or compromising their true essence.

Where most albums that span electronic realms lean on functionality, ‘Arriving Home Elsewhere’ reaches for something much more expansive. The project is a true hybrid: half shaped for the intimacy of a headphone listen, half designed for the electricity of the dancefloor. together forming a seamless continuum between reflection and release. Tracks like ‘REARRANGE YOURSELF’, ‘BE REAL’, and ‘LOOKS LIKE IT (SPACE TALK)’ are stripped to the core of house music’s driving pulse, made for bigger systems and peak-time release. In contrast, ‘Dreams’, ‘Fruits of the Universe’ (with douniah), and ‘Without The Sun’ (with Oliver Night) explore lush, textured arrangements where live instrumentation and improvisation carry equal weight to rhythm and groove.

Collaboration is at the heart of the LP, with Makèz inviting a constellation of voices who each expand the project’s palette. Ben Westbeech, Liv East, and SANITY bring soulful intensity; 30/70 and dreamcastmoe connect Amsterdam to Melbourne and DC; Cor.Ece and Oliver Night weave delicate threads of emotion; Goya Gumbani and Javonntte guide the production with their vibey, groove-led performances; while Life on Planets reprises his role as a core creative partner, appearing across the album on tracks including the standout ‘BE REAL’ and the previously released ‘ILLUSIONS’ alongside rising Amsterdam talent AVA LAVÁ. Together, these contributions shape an album that feels less like a singular statement and more like a living, breathing ecosystem.

For Makèz, ‘Arriving Home Elsewhere’ is as much about philosophy as it is about music. The title encapsulates a tension central to their art: the feeling of belonging to multiple worlds without ever being confined to one. Jazz, house, soul, and experimental club sounds are not separate influences but parallel languages, and in merging them, the duo has created a record that mirrors the fluidity of contemporary identity and expression. And while it may speak in many voices, the LP tells one clear story - that of Makèz, arriving, again and again, home elsewhere.

Zweite EP zu Jeff Mills' neuer Videoserie "The Director's Cut Documentary" mit Interviews von Szeneleuten wie Künstlern, Club- und Plattenladenbetreibern zu Jeff Mills, seinen DJ-Skills und der Geschichte seines Axis-Labels. Die parallele 180g Vinyl-Serie enthält teils unveröffentlichte Raritäten aus den Axis-Archiven, oftmals remastered, und wird zum Jahresende in einer CD-Compilation gipfeln.

If you like cold-wave music and you’re nostalgic of the 80s, “Lines & Parallels” by French Swiss trio Factice Factory clearly reveals multiple parallels with this golden decade of dark music. A delicious propulsive bass, cold synths and lots of atmosphere. A dark and at times even claustrophobic atmosphere.

On the release, two musical sides can be identified: two lines or parallels. An electronic and more hypnotic side with the Neue Deutsche Welle-like “Leuchtturm”, the minimal film noir tribute “Audran”, the eighties sounding “Sway” or the harsh industrial tainted “Extinguisher”. The other line is to be heard in tracks such as the desperate and goosebumping “Defeat”, the oriental sounding “Hatch End” or the melancholic end ballad “The Weeping Willow” These two parallel lines finally merge into one single and united sound pattern, a delight that will surely find its place in the ears of many dark music addicts.

“We know what jazz is when we hear standards or music that is close to the same source, to a recognized pattern. But what is jazz? Here, a starting point. "Blow" showcases an accumulated CITIZEN:KANE techno vocabulary but it quickly tones down the sensation by introducing frequent breaks in the rhythm, as in "Peiote". But even there we are able to "feel" techno by recalling Wolfgang Voigt's M:I:5 and its parallel yet contrasting rhythmic grids. Elsewhere, manifestations of opposite forces: the beat keeps a body firm on the floor, eminently physical but not commanding; and melodies, cosmic threads, suggest ascension as well as a drive towards the within, creating space for feelings and/or rationalization. "The Fence" or "Montreal" stand as good examples. One less evident aspect of beauty in this record is the apparent coldness of the music, almost rigid and devoid of passion, and thus we declare it more true. As the mind performs a synthesis of what was learned after a class, last track "Family" (expressively) gathers impressions of what went before, adding poetry to the moment. "Blow" may be a reference to the most familiar instruments used in jazz but it can also figuratively mean an explosion, an aesthetic liberation, even with (our) knowledge that for now, and theoretically, the artist chose to concentrate on this thing called jazz.”

These days – on the new, ninth Fink album – Greenall is operating within a lineage of authentic, quietly revolutionary artists from England’s verdant southwestern toe. Artists like Michael Chapman. In 1970, the elusive acoustic guitar wizard released an album called Fully Qualified Survivor. The cult-classic served as a lodestar for Greenall – along with bandmates Tim Thornton and Guy Whittaker – as he began jigsawing together The City Is Coming to Erase it All, the follow-up to 2024’s Beauty In Your Wake. He even considered covering a song from it, but in the process, inadvertently stumbled into what became the album’s opener. ‘Wishing For Blue Sky’ circles a universal teenage ache: waiting for life to start. “No point dying of patience” goes the first lyric as crunching footsteps cue a resonant, open-tuned acoustic swaying into view. By 18, Greenall was fed up with waiting, so he left suburban Bristol and saw the world, sending postcards from the edge, waiting tables, squirreling away tips for the next flight. Thornton had similar experiences when the guitarist/drummer busked across Eur

This is nowstalgia more than nostalgia, though; there’s a parallel between these 18-year-olds and Fink’s autumn-aged family men. “You’re expected to be boring and settling down at this age,” Thornton says. “But we’ve still got this tremendous wanderlust. We want to go and discover, and also achieve things. It’s a nice life – home and family – but fuck, I can’t wait to get back out there.” City is a product of this hunger for discovery, and idolatry of the album as a form – like we had in 1974. City’s cover mirrors its interior, the first song is the greeting, the instrumental closer the conclusion. It’s a story. It’s a record for people who, like its creators, are curious. People who happily face a little cold for music, who light a crackling fire back home, who sit with these songs until they’re ready to chase after their own blue sky

These days – on the new, ninth Fink album – Greenall is operating within a lineage of authentic, quietly revolutionary artists from England’s verdant southwestern toe. Artists like Michael Chapman. In 1970, the elusive acoustic guitar wizard released an album called Fully Qualified Survivor. The cult-classic served as a lodestar for Greenall – along with bandmates Tim Thornton and Guy Whittaker – as he began jigsawing together The City Is Coming to Erase it All, the follow-up to 2024’s Beauty In Your Wake. He even considered covering a song from it, but in the process, inadvertently stumbled into what became the album’s opener. ‘Wishing For Blue Sky’ circles a universal teenage ache: waiting for life to start. “No point dying of patience” goes the first lyric as crunching footsteps cue a resonant, open-tuned acoustic swaying into view. By 18, Greenall was fed up with waiting, so he left suburban Bristol and saw the world, sending postcards from the edge, waiting tables, squirreling away tips for the next flight. Thornton had similar experiences when the guitarist/drummer busked across Eur

This is nowstalgia more than nostalgia, though; there’s a parallel between these 18-year-olds and Fink’s autumn-aged family men. “You’re expected to be boring and settling down at this age,” Thornton says. “But we’ve still got this tremendous wanderlust. We want to go and discover, and also achieve things. It’s a nice life – home and family – but fuck, I can’t wait to get back out there.” City is a product of this hunger for discovery, and idolatry of the album as a form – like we had in 1974. City’s cover mirrors its interior, the first song is the greeting, the instrumental closer the conclusion. It’s a story. It’s a record for people who, like its creators, are curious. People who happily face a little cold for music, who light a crackling fire back home, who sit with these songs until they’re ready to chase after their own blue sky

If – in some parallel universe (or perhaps a not-so-distant-future version of the one we’re already sentenced to living in) – the evil overloads of artificial intelligence were actually successful in their attempts to create convincingly enjoyable “original music,” more specifically tasked with wholly encapsulating my own personal tastes by data-chugging some cocktail of – oh, I don’t know – the posters on my wall, the records in my “most listened to” pile, the mixtapes I made for others, intensive physical scans of my auditory cortex, amygdala, hippocampus, heart strings, whatever else they have splayed out on their autopsy table with the intention of generating one all-encompassing “perfect band” based on the fruitful sum of their findings – that band, for me, would be (or would at least sound exactly like) the Tara Clerkin Trio. It is, quite simply, without exception, the music I wish to hear.

Formed in Bristol UK (where none of them are from yet all of whom are deeply engrained) in 2020, the Tara Clerkin Trio – as it somewhat democratically exists today, despite the singular authority implied by its name – consists of the titular Tara Clerkin, her partner Sunny Joe Paradisos, and Sunny’s brother, Patrick Benjamin. I’ll confess, I don’t know what their respective roles are within the operation and there’s only a very small part of me that cares to learn, as one of my favorite qualities in an objective listening experience is the mystery of who is playing what, which sounds are “authentic” versus synthesized, which chunks are performed “live” in a room together versus meticulously Frankenstein’ed from measure to measure, or how exactly the overall sound is so (seemingly) effortlessly achieved. Though, I suspect, if and when I do witness a live performance by this band at any point, my enjoyment of the music will not be lost in my better understanding of it.

With two extraordinary mini-albums – In Spring (2021) and On The Turning Ground (2023) – making a splash on London’s formidable World of Echo label in wake of their self-titled 2020 debut, this upcoming Somewhere Good LP is, in many ways, the band’s most realised work. In running their usual gauntlet of idiosyncratic (*an overused adjective for which here there is regrettably no sufficient alternative) approaches, Clerkin & co. colour in and outside of compositional lines over the course of 40+ celebratory minutes - never wallowing, despite inherently somber subject matters of self-defeat, disease, displacement, restlessness, gentrification - allowing their arrangements and improvisations ample space and time to situate, stretch out, breathe, cross-pollinate, and ultimately take deeper hold on the listener’s imagination – all while somehow sounding more like themselves than ever before.

Of course, there are traceable influences herein, if one felt that such comparisons were necessary to properly examine and enjoy this music (they aren’t)… Being the big dumb American from the small boring town that I am, cornfed on ‘90s alternative radio with the enchantingly exotic sounds of Maxinquaye and Mezzanine emanating from my chunky tube television, I can’t help but to make a blatantly obvious reference to a “Bristol sound”, ie the whole trip-hop trip, the pastoral crooning over the suggestive urban grime of cracked electro/piano treatments, the digitally-yet-primitively reconstructed James Bond soundtrack string-beats, etc.. But the Tara Clerkin Trio is so infinitely much more than that. There are elements of avant-pop, modern classical, kraut-folk, audio verité, dare I say indie rock (and not of the beer guzzling, masturbatory fuzz-flex variety but perhaps more like a Trish Keenan-fronted Faust, Adrian Sherwood at the mixing desk of If You’re Feeling Sinister, or – in expanding on our alternate reality – a world in which High Llamas cut a full-length for Warp Records with Andrew Weatherall on coffee duty).

The hazy, unmappable skyline-mirage of droning harmonium, upright bass, peculiarly accentuated wind instruments, acoustic guitar, hushed yet literally mighty keys combine to hypnotizing effect. The band may make underlying nods to jazz, sure, but it’s not appropriation, it’s that they have the actual chops to build it out. Beneath the janky samples and oddball percussive embellishment lies actually great drumming. Beyond the manipulated vocal witchery and woefully reflective plain-spoke moments are Tara’s subtly inspired melodies, sung with what might honestly be the glue to the whole crazy equation. A calming consistency throughout the otherwise unpredictably dynamic, boldly intuitive, uniquely British exploration of this (their own) universe in song. – Ryan Davis (Chicago, February 2026)

Second album of french incendiary fake big band Parasite Jazz. A krautrock, jazz-non-jazz, experimental album recorded along four seasons by three musicians (Alex Larsen, Tamara Goukassova & Théo Delaunay) from the french fringes ; members of Succhiamo, Diagonale des Yeux, Simple Music Experience, Violent Quand on Aime ... featuring Radio Hito, Kyle Knapp (Deliluh) & Hochiwah.



—

After its first release in 2023, the tiny big band Parasite Jazz brings its public iterations to fruition with “♫”, a testament to an alternate reality, matured voyaging across France over the span of four seasons.



It sees the music flee through exuberant forests and steep troglodytes ; a parallel genre movie with a soundtrack of diluvian rhythms, mocking chants, jazz noir and voodoo accidents. In this shifting, autonomous world, the elastic orchestra—whose members Radio Hito, Valentin Noiret, Kyle Knapp, and Hochiwah keep on appearing and disappearing—plays for nocturnal secrets and feverish cavalcades.

Fourth release on Ediciones Villasonora. Neuf is the debut LP by Le Controleur des Flux Sortants, a Lyon-Asturias duo based in the Netherlands, featuring from a respected artist of the Spanish underground pop scene. 8 tracks with a synthwave spirit, singular lyrics and a delicate, decadent soul, immersing the listener in beautiful and melancholic sonic parallels.

As the so-called “Latin boom” becomes a new anchor for hard-swung club sounds, it is crucial to recognize that the region’s musical culture extends far beyond dembow edits and the pop-trap hybrids that have edged into the mainstream. Monterrey-born, New York City-based producer and DJ Delia Beatriz, aka Debit, returns to NAAFI with Potpourri, a generous and kinetic collection of dancefloor-oriented tracks filled with percussive flourishes, squelching 303 basslines, and rhythmic mutations that actively challenge the status quo. Rather than rebuilding “Latin sounds” as a fixed category, the album rethinks their internal logic, tracing the evolution of techno and house in cities like Detroit, Chicago, and New York alongside parallel innovations emerging in Mexico, Colombia, and across the wider Latin world. Positioned on the bridge between Mexico and the US, Potpourri does not seek synthesis as a gesture of smooth fusion, but as a site of disruption.

The album can be heard as a loose follow-up to System (2018), Debit’s NAAFI-released EP that expanded the sonic potential of tribal guarachero through triplet-driven rhythms, industrial pressure, and noisy reconstruction. Potpourri retains guaracha as a structural backbone while drawing further influence from veteran DJ and producer Javier Estrada—who also appeared on System—and particularly from his fast-paced, nonlinear style of mixing. That approach becomes a formal principle here: canonical structures are dismantled, repetition is avoided, and tracks evolve without sacrificing propulsion. Coming after the introspective temporal inquiry of Desaceleradas and the speculative historical acoustics of The Long Count, Potpourri arrives as a deliberate surge of energy. As Beatriz explains: “It’s a manifesto for rethinking form and sound in dance music. By stepping outside traditional structures and embracing the potpourri approach, I’m creating new meaning with familiar rhythms. I’ve also been applying this to my DJ sets, using it as a tool to break free from established norms and explore new narrative possibilities.”

Years in the making, Potpourri imagines an alternate timeline in which the psychedelic squelch of acid—echoing pioneers such as DJ Pierre and Mr. Fingers—and the dub-inflected atmospheres of Basic Channel entered into direct and sustained contact with Latin American club mutations. Those references are legible, but never merely quoted. Instead, they are folded into syncopated hi-hats, overdriven kicks, and unstable arrangements that absorb both the intensity of the parties Beatriz remembers from Monterrey and the abrasive edge she sharpened at DIY noise shows in New England. The result is unmistakably a dancefloor record—heard in tracks as forceful as “Pero like” and the peak-time pressure of “tuvesuerte”—but one saturated with grotesque, psychedelic atmospheres, where sounds dissolve into hoarse croaks, acidic smears, and anxiety-inducing growls. Here, the rave becomes not simply a site of release, but a platform for navigating identity, hybridity, and artistic formation across borders. Moving through peaks and ruptures, Potpourri reveals a party narrative that is not linear but multidimensional.

By folding together the fluidity of DJ culture, the experimental charge of acid, and the rhythmic vitality of guaracha, Potpourri proposes a space of formal and political innovation within Latin America’s rapidly expanding electronic music landscape. It is a record that refuses containment, pushing against the templates through which Latin electronic music is often consumed, and insisting instead on friction, instability, and transformation as generative conditions for the dancefloor.

Lis Sarroca marks the tenth release on her Maai Records imprint with her debut vinyl release on the label, “Signals.” The EP spans four tracks, moving seamlessly between refined house and electro energy, tinges of Italo nostalgia and of course all infused with Lis’ signature uplifting touch. Since 2021 Maai has quickly become an essential label for tastemakers, and in parallel, Lis has been steadily carving out her path as an artist making this a milestone release of her journey this far.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

“An extremely dynamic and creative release — Roadhouse combines acoustic and electronic music with a strong balance to invoke the complexity and confusion of a growing planet earth.” - Delroy Edwards, 2021

“‘Supernatural XS' is more bombastic (than its predacessor, ‘Aladdin Sales’). Imagine if French prog-dogs Heldon grew up on a diet of Hip Hop and high fructose corn syrup, or a mid-point between early Blues Control and Foodman's blissful mutations of Footwork. This Southern Indiana self-identified producer shows no particular allegiance to any lineage and evokes a couple they potentially aren't even privy to. Like Footwork, this music feels new and unique without outwardly attempting to break new ground, or inheriting any technological innovation. While I’m stoked on new music every single goddamn day, Roadhouse makes me particularly excited for the future of creativity, even if the odds are against it. Contemporary "Fusion" at it's best!. Very, very recommended!” - Repressed Records