quête:patterns

Much like the North Carolina wilds it reflects, Needlefall waxes and wanes from mysterious and unsettling to ecstatic and awe-inspiring, capturing the sacred dimensions of the natural world. Magic Tuber Stringband draw on a host of fellow travelers to realize Needlefall"s intricate arrangements, exemplifying the diversity of contemporary folk movements, placing their work in the tradition of modern innovators like Moondog, Harry Partch, Pauline Oliveros, and labelmate Sally Anne Morgan. The vast forests and mountains that inspire the band as a metaphor for living music traditions - ever-changing and yet still standing, shaped over time by human hands while equally shaping the human experience. Magic Tuber Stringband, from North Carolina, are Courtney Werner and Evan Morgan, accompanied by their regular bassist Mike DeVito. Morgan is an organizer within the local music community, and Werner is a dedicated naturalist involved in local land stewardship. Needlefall answers the question "what does a modern string band sound like?" with powerful new arrangements of traditional songs and transcendent originals. The album is teeming with life, translating abundant ecosystems into arcing melodies and shimmering, mystic drones. The band explains: "If you spend enough time out in the woods you inevitably see or hear things that are hard to explain. I"ve been in caves where it"s total darkness and you"re enveloped by the disorienting sound of dripping water. The natural sights and sounds in these places are often repetitive, percussive, expressive, sometimes unsettling - the way that water carves patterns into rock or tree trunks appear in endless rows."

Much like the North Carolina wilds it reflects, Needlefall waxes and wanes from mysterious and unsettling to ecstatic and awe-inspiring, capturing the sacred dimensions of the natural world. Magic Tuber Stringband draw on a host of fellow travelers to realize Needlefall"s intricate arrangements, exemplifying the diversity of contemporary folk movements, placing their work in the tradition of modern innovators like Moondog, Harry Partch, Pauline Oliveros, and labelmate Sally Anne Morgan. The vast forests and mountains that inspire the band as a metaphor for living music traditions - ever-changing and yet still standing, shaped over time by human hands while equally shaping the human experience. Magic Tuber Stringband, from North Carolina, are Courtney Werner and Evan Morgan, accompanied by their regular bassist Mike DeVito. Morgan is an organizer within the local music community, and Werner is a dedicated naturalist involved in local land stewardship. Needlefall answers the question "what does a modern string band sound like?" with powerful new arrangements of traditional songs and transcendent originals. The album is teeming with life, translating abundant ecosystems into arcing melodies and shimmering, mystic drones. The band explains: "If you spend enough time out in the woods you inevitably see or hear things that are hard to explain. I"ve been in caves where it"s total darkness and you"re enveloped by the disorienting sound of dripping water. The natural sights and sounds in these places are often repetitive, percussive, expressive, sometimes unsettling - the way that water carves patterns into rock or tree trunks appear in endless rows."

This is a repress of Tycho's second release with Ghostly International to celebrate the 10 year anniversary of this masterpiece, while Ghostly International celebrates its 25th year anniversary. For nearly a decade, Tycho has been known as the musical alias of Scott Hansen, but with the release of Awake - his second LP for Ghostly International - the solo project evolved into a three-piece band. Relating closer to post-rock than ambient soundscapes, the record is situated in the present, sounding more like Hansen than drawing from his influences. This is, in many ways, the first true Tycho record. Following 2011's Dive LP, the San Francisco-based designer toured extensively, and with a full band on stage, his sound coalesced into a percussive, organic whole. Zac Brown (guitars, bass) rejoined Scott on the road for this tour, but it was the particular addition of Rory O'Connor's live drumming that ultimately sent Hansen back to the studio with a more precise vision. "After the tour, I decided that I wanted to capture the more energetic, driven sound of the live show on the next album," Hansen recalls. Bringing musicians into Tycho's creative process was a step towards expanding his own songwriting and advancing the project beyond its current sound. In a cabin near Tahoe last winter, Zac and Scott began fleshing out the structure of the new record, but it wasn't until they set up shop in the hills of Santa Cruz with Rory that it all fell into place. "It crystallized the vision of how the drums would come to the forefront on this record," says Hansen. The sound was much more stripped-down and concise with more organic instruments in the fold. Songs like "Montana" and "Awake" are a departure from Tycho's previous material - unique to the group effort poured into the songs on the new record - while "See" and "Dye" echo ideas from previous works, bridging a middle ground between the old and new. Working with Count Eldridge, who also engineered Dive, the team could fixate on the pulses that Tycho might previously layer under synthesizers and exhume them with distinct bass and guitar patterns. Also known for his design work as ISO50, Hansen's visual and sonic efforts have dovetailed throughout the course of his career. "This is the first time in my life I've dropped everything to focus on one artistic pursuit," notes Hansen. Previous Tycho releases came to fruition when an amalgam of songs were nearing completion, but Awake is where music becomes the focus and true expression becomes the result.

Katà Métron is the Greek mythology-inspired collaborative album from Italian ambient auteurs ILUITEQ and Lorenzo Montanà.

For ILUITEQ, Ancient Greek culture, with its myths and philosophy, has strongly influenced their everyday lives and has provided constant inspiration in their musical endeavors. The Greek expression "Katà Métron" means "according to the right measure," representing how human beings should live in harmo- ny with themselves and nature. More often than not, the dominant model is to go beyond our limits, and having a "sense of measure" is not capitalistically profitable as we must nourish our constant desire to always wish for more, not caring for the consequences of such a "bulimic" attitude.

Lorenzo Montanà should need little introduction, with a more than two-decades-long career, a vast body of work on labels such as FAX and Projekt, and highlighting such collaborative partners as Pete Namlook and Alio Die. ILUITEQ approached Montanà as they admired his textural take on ambient. The duo presented the Greek mythology concept in which they might collaborate, and Montanà became instantly inspired to partici- pate. Montanà's contributions to "Katà Métron" shape the sound of ILUITEQ in new, evocative music territo- ries, where meticulously crafted rhythmic patterns and melodic echos blend with the Italian duo's soothing and ethereal ambient soundscapes.

Violist, violinist and singer-songwriter Marla Hansen returns to Karaoke Kalk with "Salt", her second full-length album to date. Building upon the sonic palette the Berlin-based musician established with her debut "Dust" in 2020, "Salt" takes the delicate mixture of acoustic instruments such as viola, violin, piano and guitar combined with subtle electronics to the next level. The new album is both a remarkable departure and at the same time sheds a new yet reassuring light on Hansen's work and creativity. "Salt" features numerous collaborations with like-minded musicians and friends, e. g. producer and composer Simon Goff, The Notwist's drummer Andi Haberl and the renowned artist DM Stith.

The "Dust" has settled. After having recorded her solo debut of that name, in 2020 the world came to a grinding halt, leaving Marla Hansen left to her own devices in her adopted home of Berlin. For Hansen, who previously had lent her talent to many creative minds such as The National, Sufjan Stevens, The Hidden Cameras, Jay-Z and Ravi Coltrane, the collaborative aspect of writing and producing music had always played a crucial part in finding her own path as a solo artist.

"I started to explore synthesizers and electronic production myself," she remembers of the time when meeting other musicians in person was out of the question. "I am proud that I accomplished many of the electronic elements of the new album by myself, and otherwise laid the groundwork for the final electronic structures through my own experiments. I always wanted to record a 'big' record, one that has a lot of power and sound, and this one is 'bigger' than anything I have done so far."

"Salt" is big, indeed. The opener "Chains" is driven by a gliding bass line, bobbing 808 snares, deep chords and a mesmerizing chorus doubled by luscious strings, marking the beginning of a new chapter in her creative journey. A stark statement, both musically and lyrically. Meanwhile, the title track of the album is an almost abstract sounding ambient miniature, sketch-like, dark and haunting, showcasing Hansen's voice in a shy, brittle and fragile state. If This Mortal Coil/The Hope Blister were ever to record another album, these songs should be high up on the shortlist of tunes to pick. "The One Time" - a duet with Hansen's long-time friend DM Stith - gently meanders between a Philip Glass-inspired piece for chamber orchestra and a vocal ensemble performing on Top Of The Pops. In this range of styles and approaches, Hansen's vision is more present than ever.

For refining and finishing the songs, Hansen turned to Simon Goff, who produced the album and engineered much of the recording, merging Hansen's newly-found songwriting approach with the artistic delicacy which made her debut album an exceptional piece of work. Features include among others: Alice Dixon (Oriel Quartett) on cello, Kyle Resnick (The National, Beirut) on trumpet, Benjamin Lanz (The National, Beirut) on trombone and tuba, and Miles Perkin on bass. And then there is The Notwist's Andi Haberl, who "crafted perfect drum and percussion parts to move the songs wherever they needed to go, either into their driving grooves, slow-build explosions or gentle swells of feeling."

But what are songs actually about? "The themes revolve around a feeling of being trapped. Having to stay inside during the pandemic, with all the silence and stillness coming with it. Simultaneously, I was caught up in a professional situation that was not working for me, yet it required a lot of energy and time. I was thinking a lot about how to break old habits and patterns. Patterns in my life, patterns I saw my friends and loved-ones stuck in. There are a lot of ways that people can be trapped, and breaking out of that requires a lot of courage and energy - on all levels. The title 'Salt' seemed to fit, ocean themes showed up naturally in some of the songs, and I thought often about the quote: 'The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.' Maybe I was just dreaming of the ocean, since it was inaccessible for the first time! But I wanted a cure for this feeling of being trapped, in a time of uncertainty and anxiety, salt as a remedy seemed to have some truth in it: sweat, tears or the sea."

Perseverance and the urge for freedom prevailed in the end. "Salt" is a bold artistic achievement, with songs as big as the biggest waves imaginable. With melodies as alluring as the most comfortable breezes. Perfect from start to finish.

Third album, originally released in 1978, by legendary Korean psychedelic band Sanullim. From heavy-fuzz psychedelic garage to slow burners, including the monster sidelong track “You Are Already Me”, the title track (which sounds like a Korean Blue Cheer) and more! *Original artwork in hard cardboard sleeve *Sourced from the original masters *Insert with liner notes and rare photos / memorabilia “This time, whilst the fuzz guitar and strangely basic bass and drum patterns are more familiar, it’s the frequently gruff, howling vocals that are the most noticeably different element of the sound” – Hugh Dellar (Shindig!)

HJirok is a mythical figure, conceived as a fictional character by Iranian-born Kurdish singer and artist Hani Mojahedy. Together with versatile music producer And Toma of Mouse On Mars, she combined a variety of sounds collected during their joint travels to Iraqi Kurdistan and elsewhere with heavily processed recordings of Sufi drum rhythms and setar melodies. The result is a driving, dubbed-out, and deeply intricate soundscape that perfectly sets the stage for Mojahedy's extended, unconventional vocal techniques and polyglot lyrics. Both informed by tradition and rigorously forward-looking, »Hjirok« (with a lowercase J) is at once a profoundly personal album and a universal utopian promise. As a ghost from the past, HJirok draws on Mojtahedy's memories to mould a new future out of them.

The foundation for »Hjirok« was laid in the city of Erbil in the Kurdish part of Iraq. During one of their stays in the region, Mojahedy and Toma recorded the three percussionists Hadi Alizadeh, Jawad Salkhordeh and Serdar Saydan as well as setar player Ali Choolaei from Motahedy's backing band while they were playingthe rhythms and notes that she had grown up with in the house of her grandfather in the Iranian city of Sanandaj. Her memories of that place revolve around hypnotic Sufi music, dervishes in deep trance, and ecstatic singing. Much like this music seemed to open a portal to other dimensions, the inhabitants of the house lived in a sort of alternative reality: It provided them with a hideaway from political circumstances. Following the Iranian revolution in 1979, a Kurdish rebellion ensued but was met with the utmost brutality by the new regime, which resulted in the death of thousands.

It is no coincidence that the music on »Hirok« would draw on rhythmic patterns that were passed on from one generation to the next for hundreds of years. »The project is rooted in the figures of the Sufi dervishes and thus a culture that precedes today's political, social, cultural, and religious systems,« explains Mohtahedy. »The Sufi sound travelled around the entire world. I like to think of it as a dialogue between peoples-one based on the rhythms of the drums and the sound of their voices.« Toma adds that by electronically transforming the recordings and enriching them with field recordings from both rural and urban spaces, they were able to use the stories told by the drums and the setar to create an entirely new narrative.

The story told by these eight pieces is hence a deeply personal, but also inherently political one. Moitahedy herself left Iran in 2004 and relocated to Berlin in 2010. Having continued to use her art as a platform to tirelessly advocate for the rights of the Kurdish people and women under oppressive regimes, she has not been allowed to return to her country of origin ever since. »Hani is singing for equality and there are people who are afraid of that-her femininity, her strength.« Toma says. Much like earlier Hirok sound installations addressed human-made climate change and other systemic ills, also »Hjirok« can hardly be disconnected from far-reaching struggles for liberation and equality.

This is also true on a thematic and even linguistic level. »The lyrics are about a promise,« Mojahedy says, citing Kurdish writer Ebdulla Pesêw as an inspiration. »At their core, these are about that day on which violence and fear become a thing of the past; what they tell you is ot not give up, to keep hoping,« she adds. The promise embedded in them is an emancipatory one. These contents are mirrored on a linguistic level: The lyrics were written in both Kurdish and Farsi, blurring the lines between the two languages and thus, Kurdish and Persian cultures.

Mojahedy, or rather HJirok, conveys these philosophical themes with elegance. Herversatile vocal performance is only loosely basedo n established styles. »Of course everything started with traditional rhythms, but we kept pushing things further and further, so Idid the same with my voice,« Mojahedy explains. »There were no boundaries.« The same can be said of the field recordings that she and Toma used. Whether it's conversations between members of the Pesmerge, the Kurdish armed forces, having a chat in meadow full of bunnies or the humming and buzzing of metropolises like Tehran: »Hirok« paints a sonic picture that is quite literally autopian one; that of a non-place in which different soundscapes, cultures and ways of life coexist peacefully.

What the album conjures up from Mojahedy's memory is not only a very specific place during a unique time in history as experienced by a single person. It is also ametaphorical home open to anyone who wishes to enter - promise of a better, more egalitarian future for everyone. Hence, HJirok will bring it on tour, presenting the material as an audio-visual live show that makes use of the photo and video material that Mojahedy and Toma have collected during their travels through Kurdistan.ja

Delicate and beautiful music from the combined forced of the recently ubiquitous East-Coast psychedelic combo Elkhorn and Pelt’s Mike Gangloff, laying down two epic raga-like performances captured on a 2022 collaborative tour. Gangloff—fresh from the triumph of his VHF solo fiddle album Evening Measures—has found a distinct instrumental voice, blending drone music and trad influences in way that really advances the tradition into new areas. “East Dauphin Suite” builds patiently on the interlocking acoustic guitars of the Elkhorn duo, with Gangloff’s hardanger fiddle carrying the melody over the top. The sound is a neat riff on American primitive, with just enough Appalachian-style touches via Gangloff’s careful glissandos cutting through the Vuh-type chords and patterns to create a unique and supremely melodic hybrid. “Summerfield Raga” takes things further out, with more microtonal variation in the embroidery, with assertive bowing and an increased energy level. Pressed in Chicago and housed in an amazing jacket by Jake Blanchard.

Elite Controller’ c/w ‘Softness on the Other Side’ is the second 7” single containing two of four tracks produced by transcontinental duo ‘Gruuel’, featuring James Vinciguerra and Beau Wanzer, between 2019 and 2023. The duo appear here in an expanded form with third member and Vinciguerra ‘Act Now’ collaborator Tarquin Manek, heard as multi instrumentalist jack-of-all-trades performing guitar, bass guitar, synthesiser and bass clarinet to accompany Wanzer’s hazy drum machine patterns and Vinciguerra’s mutated vocals.

The single is the first release on Elations Recordings’ ‘Deviations’ imprint, focusing on the outer realms of experimentation and fringe expression. Two subterranean, science-non-fiction snapshots capturing the spirit of the forward looking art-experimental groups of the late 1970s and early 1980s that were lumped in with the punk movement.

The a-side ‘Elite Controller’ is the more immediate of the two tracks; a paranoid fever dream of raw, psychedelic guitars underpinned by dub bass and Vinciguerra’s deranged mutant vocals; while the b-side ‘Softness on the Other Side’ takes a more self-reflective turn. A passive, spoken word cautionary telling of the dangers while searching for personal nirvana accompanied by Manek’s tortured bass clarinet impressions. Recommended for fans of Chrome, Tuxedomoon or K. Leimer’s experimental “artificial” band ‘Savant’.

What the listener might encounter on this album goes all the way down to the sound of a neuron transmitting pain, beatitude or any one of the countless senses and impressions we feel on any one day of life. N E U R O is the debut album by CURA MACHINES, a new project by Daniel Lea whose tracks are at once scientific in their capturing of the morphing of body cells as well as the larger expanses of a poetic filmscape of the contemporary metropolis.

The name CURA MACHINES comes from a sign Lea saw on a trip to Ancona, Italy at an abandoned hospital: Prima E Dopo La Cura (Before and after the cure). The sound in between, of what was lost or found, transmuted in the heavily manipulated and pulsating synthesisers, is the restoration here. With a physically visceral mix by Ben Frost and soaring re-amped bass textures from Yair Elazar Glotman, the album is lush with trans-morphing apeggia that shudder, quack and soar into ashen sparks.

Back in the turn of the 20th century the poet Rilke posited that the suture patterns of fused skull plates could potentially be played by the then-new technology of the gramophone, with each of us having our own personal tonal source code or anthem etched onto our skulls. And with a track like 'Suture' we have such an embodied sound: the close-up exhumation of the neural brain casing, stitched and sewn together in fleeting pulses of whisper and alarm.
The individual is exposed and isolated, but not without the promise of succour.

Or one also has the soundtrack to the loneliness of a morose private eye – a pulp novel set in a future time of neurosis or washed out euphoric beauty. It is here in tracks such as 'Terminal Zone' or 'Inversion Layers', music that is blinking in celluloid frames. The plot could easily be a sci-fi, paranoid tale of brain emulation, transhumanist crimes against humanity itself. After all this is Lea's soundtrack to Los Angeles, the city of angels that has been captured in countless movies: the racing tracking shot of the 2nd Street Tunnel at night, the freeways spreading out in a glorious sprawl of lit up veins and arteries. The last track 'Zosa' marks out the boundary line that delineates between day and night, when the lunar strains wane, the tides subside and the city comes to life.

For a long time, the music of Congo-born Bony Bikaye had to be sought in the purgatory of "world music", where diamonds in the rough cohabited with bland nightmares of white dudes who froze rumba like fish sticks. Worse, they did put it on the menu, when so many longed to move on. Take Bikaye, who grew up listening to modern european music, digs Krautrock, struggles with tradition, obviously looking for trouble in the genre. In Brussels, he recorded a few albums with CY1 (Loizillon/Micheli), and brilliant defectors from Aksak Maboul, produced by Hector Zazou. Now it's up to french trio TONN3RR3 to take up the torch and build this project that proudly brags: "It's a bomb". Thought up at home by Guillaume Gilles (compo/keyboards), the album was finished at One Two Pass It studio, with Olivier Viadero and Gae"lle Salomon on percussion, Yoann Dubaud (machines & bass) and Guillaume Loizillon (synth of CY1 fame, and matchmaker of this affair). It's a deeply musical record, crafted by no-attitude reference players with nothing left to prove, and you can hear it. Floats well above the fray. "Keba na butu", beware. Indeed : beyond the simple pleasures of soukouss, or the rumba guitar riff that spins like a merry-go-round that skipped technical inspection, lie lush orchestrations. Freestyle, synthetic : something old, something new, something what-the- fuck-is-that-now. There's straight, there's syncopated, there's 808 and knee-jerk inducing bass patterns_with a vision. BIKAY3 plays his voice more than ever. His crazy vibrato has improved like hard liquor over the years. In "Zela" and "Balobi" in particular, he puts it to good use with flamboyant, Screamin' Jay Hawkins-style antics. He can also resort to pure storytelling : "La fore^t et les dieux", is a French-spoken excursion into the wild, moving along in grasslands of synths and percussion with TONN3RR3. A tale of gods and spirits, plain and simple. Nicole Mitchell brings the occasional flute in "Akei" for this trip in the bush of ghosts where lingala and kikongo rub with English and French. They saved "It's a bomb" for the end, a bastardized rumba, with rimshots that slap like a cool hand on willing skin. We're living in a golden age of reissues coming out in droves and satisfying our desire to catch up on our neighbors' musical heritage, but let's not miss the boat : it's now or never to listen to the music of the living. - Halory Goerger

Cam aka Cam the Wizard is a Canadian MC from Edmonton, Alberta. Gram, aka Graham Murawsky, better known as Factor Chandelier, is a Canadian producer from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan and owner of Side Roads Records. G.A.M. aka Giovanni Allen Marks, aka Subtitle, is an MC/producer hailing from Los Angeles, California. He is affiliated with the legendary Project Blowed Crew and one half of Lab Waste, with partner Thavius Beck.

From out of nowhere - if nowhere is the febrile, warped and twilit imagination of Julia McFarlane - comes Whoopee, the second album by J.McFarlane’s Reality Guest. Whoopee is an esoteric, kaleidoscopic movie in music form directed by Julia McFarlane and co-conspirator Thomas Kernot. Full of life, breakbeats and smokey vignettes on the fragile nature of interpersonal relationships, Whoopee is a stylistic evolution from everything McFarlane has done before. Surreal, beautiful in parts and replete with the aching wisdom McFarlane’s songwriting has always promised, this Reality Guest pulls back the curtain on a whole scene of naked truth. Recorded in Melbourne in bursts since the release of 2019’s Ta Da, Whoopee features a new sound palette and band member in Kernot. The duo dive deep into electronic pop tropes, mining digital synths, samples, breakbeats and deep bass grooves, largely dispensing with live instrumentation. If Ta Da took twists and turns with your expectations, offering a Dada-ist, monochromatic take on pop music, Whoopee is McFarlane’s subterranean love-sick pinks, reds, greens, purples and blues. Becoming something of a tradition, the album starts with an instrumental intro pilfered from a 90s’ spy film or cinema intro music, puffing up the listener for the heart-squeezing bathos of Full Stops. Over a bleary backdrop of walking bass lines, jazz- inflected keys and smoked-out atmosphere, McFarlane’s poetry narrates the fragile state of a relationship: “You put a full stop where I thought there’d be a comma, I want the story to continue even with all the drama.” Over a palpable pain, the narrator is revelling in the drama of a relationship, addicted to tumult and heightened emotion. On Sensory, a space age bachelor lounge pad ballad, the converse state of the previous song is explored, here the narrator is battling the numbness of being out of the drama, stuck in a sensory-deprivation tank, anaesthesized and battling to emerge from the fog. Wrong Planet explores an otherworldly pop music, hewing a bright hook out of a sense of confusion. A bona-fide, sing-along chorus bursts out of the narrator musing on the absurdity of existing in this reality. It speaks of one of Julia McFarlane’s main talents, her knack of inspecting human relationships and states with a clear perspective, like an alien visiting Earth and realising everything we are is really, really strange. Whoopee is both more accessible than previous Reality Guest work and somehow more obfuscated. Where the production on Ta Da was dry, sharp and strange, this Reality Guest is blurred, almost smeared with the effluvium of 90s+00s culture and existence. Through it all, it’s hard to deny the undeniable pull of the songs. Precious Boy carries on the lounge theme with a whole sampler of cut up sounds fading in and out of the haze as McFarlane’s voice is right up to the speaker cooing and free- associating, maybe in love or maybe in confusion... maybe they’re the same thing? Sometimes the listener is invited to just bathe in the tone of the vocal, as on Apocalypse, where the texture and timbre of the vocal is luxurious, bathing in piano tinkles and double bass throb. On lead single Slinky, a cut up beat reminiscent of Washingtonian Go-Go drum patterns leads, the song slipping through your fingers, elusive and presenting sound as pure pleasure. Closer Caviar jumps back into the broken breakbeats of a surreal funk, fuelled by the sensory pleasure of the music, a hedonistic whirl in rapture, the narrator now living life to the fullest in all its giddy heights and deep troughs. This is the album’s main character fully-actualised and in the terrible, beautiful moment.

The second album by F.K. Raeithel, just after the operetta DIE WURLITZERORGEL DES GEISTES, explores the realms of interlocked rhythm sample and hold music. On 16 tracks different setups of self generating modular synthesizer patches are gathered on this release.

The concept of Dance With Uncertainty is deeply rooted in philosophical, artistic, and cultural traditions. The notion of embracing uncertainty and change has been explored in various forms throughout history, often symbolizing the human experience and the impermanence of life. In the context of music and sound, Dance With Uncertainty could be seen as a reflection of the constant ebb and flow of life‘s uncertainties, captured and conveyed through sonic textures and evolving compositions.

Interlocked Rhythm Sample & Hold Music, this approach to sound creation weaves a mesmerizing tapestry of rhythm, texture, and sonic exploration, captivating listeners and defying traditional musical boundaries. At its core, Interlocked Rhythm Sample & Hold Music is a synthesis of technology, creativity, and a deep understanding of rhythmic intricacies. The foundation lies in the Sample & Hold circuit, a device that captures and freezes incoming voltages, creating distinct musical snapshots that evolve over time or an Linear Feedback Shift Register (eg. Rungler), a circuit used in electronic music synthesis and sound manipulation to create unique and evolving musical textures. The Rungler was created by Rob Hordijk. A more sophisticated use of a 8 bit shift register and by combining this with a typical sequencer design is the Klee Sequencer developed by Scott Stites. A cheap version of this design is the Turing Machine. Another tool is the Analog Shift Register. In the context of creating arabesque melodies, an analog shift register (invented by Fukushi Kawakami and later adapted by Serge Tcherepnin) can be a fascinating tool to generate intricate and ornamented musical patterns. Yet, it‘s the interlocking of these snapshots that sets this genre apart, infusing the compositions with an intricate dance of patterns and pulses. A fourth device is a pendulum or random addressed sequencer, that in the first case moves in a drunken unpredictable manner. Each of these devices for uncertainty becomes a rhythmic sculptor, freezing the dynamic interplay of melodies, beats, and textures. These frozen moments are then interwoven, each snapshot forming a unique thread in a sound tableau that stretches and contracts, pulses and breathes. The result is an auditory experience that challenges preconceptions of rhythm and structure. The interlocked rhythms give rise to complex grooves that ebb and flow in unpredictable ways, evoking a sense of perpetual motion and transformation. The music becomes a living organism, its heartbeats synchronized yet untamed, its evolution both deliberate and free-spirited. The juxtaposition of staccato bursts and fluid flows, of machine-like precision and organic unpredictability. As listeners delve into the world of Interlocked Rhythmic Sample & Hold Music, they embark on a sonic odyssey. The music becomes a companion, guiding them through a labyrinth of rhythmic landscapes that simultaneously challenge and invite them to the dance with uncertainty.

Arkajo is back on his own label with two originals and two remixes by kindred spirits, Polygonia and Konduku. Starting with the warm Entwine, stepped-out beats laced with swirly stabs. Polygonia's finishes off the A-side with an organic and atmospheric rework; saturated in deep, trippy, rattling tonally percussive flows. Arkajo's Signature leads the B-side: broken drum patterns with whispers from the realm between where Sweden and the UK meet. Konduku settles the score with his dark and eerie 4x4 techno take. A diverse record to keep in the bag for both hazy basements and the upcoming summer season.

2023 Repress

Maston’s Darkland is a breezy collection of the material from the Tulips sessions that didn’t make it on to the original LP. Originally a digital-only release for those in the know in the autumn of 2018, after re-issuing Tulips in 2020 it made too much sense for Be With to give Darkland a vinyl release.

Like Tulips, Darkland was recorded mostly in Hoorn, in the Netherlands, between 2015-2017 during downtime from Frank’s touring duties with Jacco Gardner’s band. Bits were also done in Los Angeles on some extended trips back home.

The collection plays like an alternate view of Maston’s instant modern classic Tulips; a companion piece to the LP proper with similar mixture of shorter themes and more full length tracks. As Frank Maston explains: “I think Darkland is the shadow of Tulips in a way… what it might’ve been in a different universe. But the heart of Tulips beats in these songs as well and they evoke the same memories and feelings for me. I see my process playing out across these songs - lots of experimentation and trying out new techniques and sounds and just sort of going for it.”

Frank goes on: “It was all from the same pool of material, like 30+ ideas. I was making a lot of little demos… some would be more fleshed out and become songs and others would just be a cool riff and not go anywhere. When I started trying to form it all into an LP I went through all the sessions and ideas and collected the ones I thought were the most fleshed out and cohesive together as a whole. There were a fair amount of songs that were finished and in hindsight really should have been on Tulips (like what would’ve been the title track). And the rest of these songs are either very early versions of tunes that ended up on Tulips or some cool ideas that just ended up being dead ends. It definitely shows how wide my net was in the beginning before I narrowed the record down stylistically.”

Darkland opens with its ornate 39 second title-track before striding into “Tulips”, that full-length title-track that never was. It’s a real head-nod, percussive-rich electric piano stunner that would’ve been a comfortable standout on the album proper. But now this “downlifting” gem is given ample room to shine on this record.

The funky organ-led bass and drums workout “Immaculate Conception” will keep your neck gently snapping while MPC fiends go reaching for their sampler. And that’s gospel. “Love Theme No 3” cuts a breathtakingly stylish vibra-slapped swathe through the middle of the opening side before we’re startled by the pronounced bass and twinkling percussion of “The Owl In Daylight”. Charming digi-drums underpin the wonky synth (quiet-)banger “Innovative Patterns” which has a lovely melodic switch-up in the final third before the tempo (and hairs on your neck) rise on the faintly creepy yet imminently groovy “Osiris”. The gorgeously soft-focus “Groove Experiment No 3” closes out the first half in slow-mo wonderment.

The lushly melancholic “Raincloud” ushers in side B before the emotionally-stirring “Phonic” taps at the door, coming on like the long lost sister to Pet Sounds’ “Let’s Go Away For A While”. Next up, the swooning beauty “Love Theme No 2” keenly sways in front of you, growing ever more insistent and hypnotic. The too-short “Italian Summer” conjures the same flirtatious imagery as the title hints at whilst “Endless” is a fascinating “piano-pella” alternative version to “Rain Dance” from Tulips. “Wonder Theme” has a nostalgic, exotic 60s swing and album closer “Willow” is a hushed, campfire folk gem. The gently circular strumming is just magical.

Speaking to Aquarium Drunkard back in 2019 about the sessions that became Tulips, Frank noted: “I was really surprised by the lack of sunlight during my first winter in Holland, so I would call it Darkland which then became the name of the first demo I wrote during that time. It was also the working title of the record when I first started writing. Some are full songs that didn’t make the cut (including what would have been the title track), some are just ideas that I never finished.”

Whilst we were working on Darkland’s vinyl release Frank explained more specifically about the music that didn’t make it on to Tulips: “When I was putting together the tracklisting for Tulips I was already thinking that whatever didn’t make it onto the LP would be cool to release eventually somehow. The response to Tulips has been so passionate over the years that it’s nice to be able to offer another piece of that world. And for me personally it’s amazing to have more of my work out there in the world. Most common bit of feedback was that many of these songs should have been on Tulips. The odd friend says it’s much better than Tulips.”

Just like Tulips before it, Simon Francis’s vinyl mastering for Darkland has been cut at 45rpm so you can trip out to this as well at a woozy 33 1/3. The artwork too has been designed by Frank himself as a literal visual continuation of the Tulips cover.

We couldn’t possibly say whether Darkland is better than Tulips, and luckily we don’t have to decide.

Egil Kalman has levelled up on this one; we were stunned by his last solo opus, and on ‘Forest of Tines’, the bassist/synthesist has traded the EMS Synthi 100 for the Buchla Series 200, recording at Stockholm’s illustrious Elektronmusikstudion (EMS). Here, he builds on themes he explored on his debut with a generous 20 track double album that marks firmer lines between Scandinavian folk music and contemporary electro- acoustic minimalism.

Using woody, synthesised tones that gradually open into sawing wails, Kalman suggests harmonies that lie between the 17th century polska and earlier, pre-Renaissance sounds, mimicking the tonal and textural fluctuations of strings with advanced tuning and sequencing techniques. There are plenty of artists delving into the past to unravel their identity, but Kalman’s approach is refreshingly unadulterated. He recorded the entire set on the fly, using just spring reverb to add extra texture, without overdubs or modern DAW-style layering, the Buchla 200 played almost like an acoustic instrument.

There’s a glimmer of vintage acid on the lithe ‘Dub One’, a complex, rhythmic experiment that lashes its pulses together with willowy portamento slides. And on ‘Klystron’, he absorbs warehouse techno’s architectural oomph, splaying psychedelic, reverberating ascending sequences over jagged kicks; listen carefully, and there’s something else going on in the background too, as Kalman meets his stabs with flute-like echoes. It’s a peculiar cocktail of ideas and provocations: ‘Mbira’ finds the composer shaping his synth into dusty, fluttering hits that resemble the titular Zimbabwean finger harp, and on ‘Drums’, he pipes pre-recorded percussion through the system, triggering its oscillators and helping shape its rhythmic patterns. He’s most comfortable when he’s mines a hazier past, ‘Autumn Leaves’ is a mystickal, just intoned droner that harmonises with Mattias Petersson’s awesome ‘Triangular Progressions’, and ‘Subtines’ sounds as if Kalman has deployed his instrument in a subterranean crevice, resonating his rumbles around synthetic water droplets.

If it’s uncanny court music you’re particularly interested in, there’s plenty of that too. ‘Polska’ is another sublimely hauntological Swedish folk interpolation, while closing track ‘Ocquet’ appears to blur Kalman’s ideas more thoroughly, melting folk phrasing and peaceful, uneasy drones to draw us to a neat conclusion. Soft-hearted but animated, it’s modern electronic music that isn’t afraid of employing vintage techniques to suggest new directions.

Kali Malone's anticipated new album "All Life Long" is a collection of music for pipe organ, choir, and brass quintet composed by Kali Malone, 2020 - 2023. Choral music performed by Macadam Ensemble and conducted by Etienne Ferschaud at Chapelle Notre-Dame-de-L'Immaculée-Conception in Nantes. Brass quintet music performed by Anima Brass at The Bunker Studio in New York City. Organ music performed by Kali Malone and Stephen O'Malley on the historical meantone tempered pipe organs at Église Saint-François in Lausanne, Orgelpark in Amsterdam, and Malmö Konstmuseum in Sweden. Kali Malone composes with a rare clarity of vision. Her music is patient and focused, built on a foundation of evolving harmonic cycles that draw out latent emotional resonances. Time is a crucial factor: letting go of expectations of duration and breadth offers a chance to find a space of reflection and contemplation. In her hands, experimental reinterpretations of centuries-old polyphonic compositional methods become portals to new ways of perceiving sound, structure, and introspection. Though awe-inspiring in scope, the most remarkable thing about Malone's music is the intimacy stirred by the close listening it encourages. Malone's new album All Life Long, created between 2020 - 2023, presents her first compositions for organ since 2019's breakthrough album The Sacrificial Code alongside interrelated pieces for voice and brass performed by Macadam Ensemble and Anima Brass. Over the course of twelve pieces, harmonic themes and patterns recur, presented in altered forms and for varied instrumentation. They emerge and reemerge like echoes of their former selves, making the familiar uncanny. Propelled by lungs and breath rather than bellows and oscillators, Malone's compositions for choir and brass take on expressive qualities that complicate the austerity that has defined her work, introducing lyricism and the beauty of human fallibility into music that has been driven by mechanical processes. At the same time, the works for organ, performed by Malone with additional accompaniment by Stephen O'Malley on four different organs dating from the 15th to 17th centuries, underscore the mighty, spectral power that those rigorous operations can achieve. All Life Long simmers in an ever-shifting tension between repetition and variation. The pieces for brass, organ, and voice are alternated asymmetrically, providing nearly continuous timbral fluctuation across its 78-minute runtime even as thematic material reiterates. Each composition's internal framework of fractal pattern permutations has the paradoxical effect of creating anticipated keystone moments of dramatic reverie and lulling the listener into believing in an illusory endlessness. On an even more granular level, the historical meantone tuning systems of each organ used, and the variable intonation of brass and voice, provide further points of emotional excavation within the harmony. The titular composition "All Life Long" appears twice on the album, first as an extended canon for organ and again in the final quarter, compactly arranged for voice In the latter, Malone pairs the music with "The Crying Water" by Arthur Symons, a poem steeped in language of mourning and eternity. For organ, "All Life Long" moves with a patient stateliness, the drama concentrated in moments when shifting tonalities generate and release dissonance and ecstasy. For voice, each word is saturated with feeling, the singers swooping gracefully downward to capture the melancholy of the narrator's relationship to the timeless tears of the sea. "Passage Through The Spheres," the album's opening piece, contains lyrics in Italian pulled from Giorgio Agamban's essay In Praise of Profanation. In it, Agamban defines profanation as, in part, the act of bringing back to communal, secular use that which has been segregated to the realm of the sacred, a process Malone enacts each time she performs on church organs. This is not music of praise, or of spiritual revelation, but it is an artistic enactment of translating the indescribable. It carries the gravity of liturgical chant, and its fixation on the infinite, but draws its weight from the earthly realm of human experience. A music that draws the listener into the present moment where they can discover themselves within the interwoven musical patterns that can come to resemble the passage of days, weeks, years, a lifetime.

Harm’s Way is Duck Ltd.’s most intuitive and organic album yet, the result of keen observation, self-possessed songwriting, and a collaborative spirit. Building on the successes of their previous releases, the deeply relatable album displays a band operating at a nuanced, lyrical and musical best.

Ducks Ltd. make inviting and frenetic guitar pop for when life feels overwhelming. While the band’s songs are ostensibly breezy, a palpable anxiety boils underneath that communicates something deeper about everyday existence. On their latest album Harm’s Way, the Toronto duo of Tom McGreevy and Evan Lewis hones in on interpersonal and societal collapses, urban decay, and the near-impossibility of keeping a level head when everything around you seems to be falling apart.

“They’re songs about struggling,” says singer and lyricist McGreevy (who also plays bass and rhythm guitar). “About watching people I care for suffer, and trying to figure out how to be there for them. And about the strain of living in the world when it feels like it's ready to collapse.” 

Even with its often dark subject matter, Harm’s Way is Ducks Ltd.’s most vividly rendered and collaborative collection yet. It’s an undeniable evolution for the band, not just in how these songs soar, but in their entire writing and recording processes. Composed on tour while supporting acts like Nation of Language, Illuminati Hotties, and Archers of Loaf, the album displays the band’s finely tuned songcraft and well-earned, road-tested confidence. “When we got signed, we had played maybe five or six shows ever. After last year, it’s in the hundreds. That experience can change your perception of your own music and songwriting,” says McGreevy. “In the past when we got stuck on a song we had a tendency to look at our favourite records to see how they tackled it. But now, instead of asking ‘what would Orange Juice do?’, we’d ask, ‘what would we do?’.” Lewis adds, “We have this really great thing where every decision with the band is filtered through both of us. Here especially, we really figured out how to make something that truly sounds like us.”

The band, fortified by this strong sense of sonic identity and a self-assurance in their new material—and in contrast to their critically acclaimed 2021 debut Modern Fiction and 2019 EP Get Bleak, both self-recorded and self-produced in a Toronto basement—wanted to bring Harm’s Way to life in a new city, with an outside producer, and with some of their favourite musicians. “We realised that so many of our favourite bands who are making guitar music right now are from Chicago,” says McGreevy. Working with producer Dave Vettraino (Dehd, Deeper, Lala Lala), they enlisted a marquee cast of Windy City collaborators to round out the tracks on Harm’s Way, including: Finom’s Macie Stewart (violin, string arrangements); Ratboys’ Marcus Nuccio (drums on most tracks); Dehd’s Jason Balla (who helped arrange the backing vocals, to which he also contributed); and backing vocals from Julia Steiner (Ratboys), Nathan O’Dell (Dummy), Margaret McCarthy (Moontype), Rui De Magalhaes (Lawn), and Lindsey-Paige McCloy (Patio). The band’s touring drummer, Jonathan Pappo, and bassist Julia Wittman also appear on the LP.

Ducks Ltd. are a band that already thrives on skirting the edges of buoyant jangle pop and driving power pop, and the duo credits these collaborators with helping to push their sound even further. “Historically our process has been really tightly controlled and insular. On this record, we worked with people who we trusted with a pretty wide range of musical backgrounds and they had approaches and ideas that helped open up the record's sonic palette,” explains McGreevy. “Jason thinks about backing vocals in a totally different way than I do and is super intuitive with melodic ideas. Julia and Margaret have a really deeo understanding of harmony. Macie and Dave were comfortable with the idea of improvising string parts which took some of those layers in some surprising directions. Dave also has an amazing ability to create atmosphere on a recording, and encouraged us to use a bunch of different techniques, tones, and processes to achieve that.”

Harm’s Way’s lush, melodic swagger is clear from the first notes of opener “Hollowed Out.” A song about living with decline (inspired by a Toronto sinkhole), its bright, indelible catchiness serves in contrast to its lyrical unease. Anchored by Lewis’ shimmering electric guitar, “The Main Thing” laments growing apart from a person whose views you once shared while managing to toss in references to both the unglamorous lives of middle relief baseball pitchers and the occult. Other songs split the difference between country and krautrock, like the rollicking “Train Full of Gasoline,” which uses the 2013 Lac-Mégantic rail disaster in Quebec as a metaphor for self-destructive patterns. Meanwhile, “Deleted Scenes” mourns the absence of someone no longer in your life (even if for very good reasons) and recalls The Cure at their most direct, and closer “Heavy Bag” employs enveloping, mournful strings to evoke a sense of how misery frequently loves company.