Buscar:perhaps

This is the very limited marbled vinyl version of the repressed Lords of The Null Lines EP.

Here we have the beautifully remastered Foul Play and Foul Play ft Randall remixes of Lords Of The Null Lines. There is little to say about these definitive classics that has not already been said. You know ‘em, you love ‘em, they are essentials. However, the Danny Styles remixes are perhaps deserving of some explanation. There were created in the early 90s, and were cut, but quickly stopped by Moving Shadow as they were not really official remixes. A few test presses got out, and the result has been these remixes reaching a near mystical status in the passing decades, and the vinyl changing hands on discogs for absurd prices.
So it was with great pleasure that Hyper-On Experience and myself managed to broker a deal with Moving Shadow and Danny Styles to bring these amazing remixes to a legal and official release! It took over 25 years, but they can finally be bought...

Carly Simon’s No. 1 smash “You’re So Vain” lingers as one of the most clever and famous songs ever recorded. The subject of mass speculation ever since its release, soon after which it occupied the top spot on multiple Billboard charts for weeks, the anthem kept a captive public guessing at the identity of its smug subject for decades. The question surrounding the protagonist’s identity remained perhaps the only mystery on the otherwise sexually open and autobiographically daring No Secrets, Simon’s commercial breakthrough and ‘70s singer-songwriter staple.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 45RPM 2LP set affords the platinum-certified 1972 effort the finest sonic treatment it’s received on vinyl. Helmed by Richard Perry and recorded at London’s Trident Studios — where Beatles, David Bowie, and Elton John captured landmark LPs — No Secrets touts exceptional production qualities highlighted by this restorative reissue.

Audiophiles and record collectors, take note: This is the first time No Secrets has been available on 45RPM. The wider grooves and dead-quiet surfaces pay instant dividends. Simple, elegant, and disarming, songs seemingly float amid wide, deep soundstages. Simon’s voice takes on a confident, assertive tenor that emerges with accurate imaging, balanced tonality, and palpable presence. String arrangements and backing vocals come through with similar realism.

Enhanced by an all-star cast — Simon’s then-husband James Taylor, Paul and Linda McCartney, Mick Jagger, Lowell George, Klaus Voorman, Bobby Keys, Jim Keltner, Nicky Hopkins, and Bonnie Bramlett are among the renowned musicians who lend a hand — No Secrets advances Simon’s themes of personal introspectiveness, no-holds-barred reflectiveness, and feminist-inspired boldness. She makes every moment of No Secrets worth savoring. Simon invests her all in the songs, handling beautiful ballads, sassy folk-rock numbers, and bluesy fare with calm, composure, and candor.

While acknowledging her own regrets (“You’re So Vain”) and loss (“The Carter Family”), Simon champions the highs (“The Right Thing to Do”) and pains (“His Friends Are More Than Fond of Robin”) of love in a sincere manner indicative of her maturity as both an artist and singer. The New York native distinguishes “When You Close Your Eyes” with deep-rooted spirituality, recalls childhood joys via charming sentimentality on “It Was So Easy,” and and takes ownership of her persona on a cover of Taylor’s “Night Owl.”

“We have no secrets
/We tell each other everything,” Simon sings at the record’s midpoint, encapsulating both the themes and bravura of an effort that was nominated for four Grammy Awards and saw her write or co-write every song but one. Combined with Perry’s savvy instrumental arrangements, her self-assured performances and forthright lyrics grant No Secrets an edginess and relevance immune to the ravages of time.

In the late 1980s, Klaus Wiese (Popol Vuh) deepened his connection with Tibetan culture. The result is a series of works solely dedicated to the universal purity of the Singing Bowls. Uranus, perhaps the most rigorous of these, is an intense meditation on the trans-personal sphere of the VI chackra. The music becomes like a single harmonic chant, the reflection of a constant flow of divine light, which transforms the psyche and dilates the secret passages of the heart. In the galaxy of pure sound, the accumulated overtones offer the intrepid listener the access to a prismatic, fluoriscence-rich consciousness. The ego thus becomes the sonorous composer of itself, of the vital circle flooded with beneficial acoustic vibrations. In this sense, Uranus, originally published on tape (Aquamarin Verlag/1988), also marks a parallel with the same research by Henry Wolff & Nancy Hennings or Nada Himalaya's Deuter.

As most of us now live in a world saturated with information, this album feels like a reflection of how the modern world might sound if it were to process its own chaos through a unified scream. Hailing from the highlands of Bandung, West Java, a city where tradition and modernization intertwine in the rhythm of daily life, Xin Lie unpretentiously translates this cultural fusion into a sonically rich and rhythmically bold debut LP.

The artist’s roots in the hardcore and punk scenes reverberate throughout the album, though they’ve been reshaped and refined for the club. There’s an undeniable pleasure in experiencing the chaos Xin Lie channels—irregular beats, dynamic frequencies, and disjointed grooves collide and expand, each track laced with a sense of unpredictable energy. Yet even in its most chaotic moments, the music feels deliberate, its edges softened by a sense of compositional care.

The album reveals a strange duality: tracks that seem to beckon you to the dance floor but never quite let you settle there. Frequencies flicker and fluctuate in patterns that feel just slightly off-grid, as though resisting traditional structures. Yet, amidst the digital textures, Xin Lie weaves in organic sounds—snippets of native conversations or environmental noise—creating layers that feel both intimate and expansive.It’s fair to say this album extends far beyond the boundaries of today’s club music.

Picture this: you’re moving through your daily routines—mundane, repetitive—and suddenly, the music shifts your perspective. It reframes the ordinary as something surreal, as though it’s deconstructing itself in real-time, breaking into fragments or conjuring entirely new forms. Perhaps it’s best imagined as the soundtrack to a multi-sensory art installation or a performance staged not in a gallery but in an unassuming house down your street. Who’s to say where it might take you?

AN ATLAS OF LOSS

Do minerals dream of becoming semiconductors? Do they yearn to carry charges, amplify, switch, and convert energy into emotions comprehensible to humans? And what if, from the darkness of the underground, they had been listening to us sing in caves before the emergence of the first flute? Could they have guided us, through the course of history, to find them, extract them, and create new sounds through sinusoidal waves, to form valves and bend circuits?

If so, minerals would transition from what philosopher Eugene Thacker defines as the ‘planet’—that virginal and unreachable realm for humans that we study through geology, paleontology, and environmental sciences—to the ‘world,’ the space we inhabit, interpret, and synthesise in our daily lives. Sadly, we only remember the world when it erupts violently, through climate catastrophes or when a new virus emerges. Sometimes a tsunami collides with a nuclear plant, or viruses are cultivated as biological weapons in high-security laboratories, provoking a deep biological anxiety, hard to quell, which we all feel beneath our skin.

There exists a third realm, disconnected from both the world and the planet: the ‘earth’, an immense, dense rock floating in space alongside other planets, situated in the cosmological dimension. Relating to the earth is so complex that we only do so through theoretical speculations of a scientific nature or through science fiction, interweaving until one becomes the prophecy of the other, in an infinite, pendular dance. Beyond the darkness of space and Lovecraft’s cosmic horror, the fantasy of human extinction is the most recurrent: to reach a collapse so devastating that we do not survive it, even though the earth does, without us.

In a world where we quantify everything through body sensors, financial algorithms, nanometre-scale robots, and surveillance drones—a world in which everything that can be domesticated and controlled can also be commodified—a superior artificial intelligence would survive the collapse of the species (some speculate it might even cause it) and learn from our mistakes, thanks to our obsessive gathering of data.

Long after our voices fade, minerals will persist in the darkness of screens, in the silicon of chips, and in their pure form, still unexploited underground. Over the millennia, this intelligence might piece together fragments of our reasoning, as if an alien civilization finally connected with one of our spacecrafts loaded with messages cast into the void. It would sort through endless streams of data, unable to grasp the depths of emotion behind what it quantified, recreating simulations of our past, stripped of the nuance that once defined us and conducting experiments in sandboxes.

Some remnants of our existence—faint echoes of forgotten beauty—would be pieced together in an atlas of loss, buried beneath layers of numbers, decayed bots, and corroded hard drives. What will follow? Perhaps bison will once again roam—trotting to the strange pulse of techno, their ancient forms framed by the ruins of our cities.

Buildings will crumble, slowly dissolving under the soft touch of ambient music, and a thousand flowers will bloom with that ancient music created through electrical signals and computation. 7 songs for a future both improbable and inevitable—a final message from a world lost to itself, from planet Earth to planet Earth.

Alfons Pich, 2025

“Less than a month after one of the most violent fire events in the history of the continent, new shoots had burst through the scorched hardpan, nourished by the still-vital roots of those flayed and blackened trees.” John Vaillant, Fire Weather.

Loscil (aka Scott Morgan) returns to kranky with Lake Fire, a nine-track offering of ash-laden sonics that mine the tension within the cycle of destruction and rejuvenation.

Lake Fire is the result of a disjointed creative process. Originally conceived as a suite for electronics and ensemble, most of the original compositions were deserted, save for Ash Clouds, featuring James Meager on double bass. The remaining tracks were reshaped and remixed, built anew out of the remnants of the abandoned work. The result is a phoenix, an album burnt to the ground only to be reassembled out of its cinders. Fragments of the original lurk beneath a densely overpainted canvas of sound.

Infused into the resulting rearrangements are impressions from a road trip into the mountains marking a personal half-century milestone, surrounded by the ominous proximity of wildfires and dense smoke; celebrating life while the world burns. The album’s title comes from the striking irony that forest fires are often named after regional lakes - perhaps subconsciously referencing ancient lore. The cover photos were taken from this same trip, while sitting in a rowboat staring into the grey abyss of an opposing mountainside outside of Revelstoke, BC, obfuscated by smoke from a nearby lake fire.

Press quotes for previous solo release “Clara”:

"The sound sculptor Scott Morgan continues to astound.” Pop Matters

"A beautifully nuanced work, Clara is both revealing and mysterious -- and loscil fans wouldn't expect anything less.” Allmusic

press quotes for previous collaboration release with Lawrence English “Colours of Air”:

"As you might expect from the steady hands at the tiller, this is a cortex-hugging drone record of beauty and depth.” The Quietus

"One of the thrills of listening to this record is how its initially predictable veneer fades on subsequent listens to reveal layers of mischief underneath.” Resident Advisor

2025 Repress

Jim Coles once again turns the tide towards a new horizon and travels further into the echo chamber. Leading on from the much-lauded ‘Secret Location’ mini-album with Seekersinternational, one-offs such as ‘Open Palms dub’ (Dub Stuy) and other teasings, ‘Acid Dub Studies’ is the fully-fledged result of the merging of the calligraphic expression of the 303 Acid bassline with the stern sway of Dub Reggae and the hazier edges of Dub Techno and Ambient music.

For those who have been paying close attention, this project will come as a welcome return to the vulnerability and playfulness of early Om Unit records such as his sub-radar single from 2010 ‘Lightgrids/Lavender’ (All City Records) or the unearthed chugging ambience of ‘Friend of Day’ (Idle Hands) and indeed in some sense draws from similar wellsprings as moments on 2013’s Bass classic ‘Threads’.

Whilst being perhaps an ‘interim project’ this is still a vital and important expression of exploration and playfulness. A study in the true sense and borne out of a subtle but pervasive frustration with the rigidity found in musical words he has up to now been cohabiting, Acid Dub Studies comes from the pressing need to break with perceived expectation and to explore an honest and natural space away from the genre labels and tags that had been often lazily applied to his sizeable catalogue of music.

With no desire to reinvent the wheel, rather to paint pictures in an honest framework, the LP was crafted using a medley of classic analogue mixing techniques inspired as much by the adventurous dubbing of Adrian Sherwood as by the inward-delving haze of Scott Monteith’s Deadbeat project. Created during a period of lonely introspective walks through his home town of Bristol, the cover art is a photograph of some of the iron kerbstones that are found almost exclusively in the characterful and hardy city which were installed in the late 1800’s to protect pavements from cart wheels. Something about the permanence of those iron slabs and cobblestones inspired a sense of comfort and determination.

Acid Dub Studies is due for release as yet another self-released label-free project leading on from recent EP titles ‘Violet’ and ‘Submerged’ both of which hinted at some of the shapes found in this full length album.

Once again Jim has shown a rare convincing adaptability that few electronic artists can embody. Another step on the journey of personal and creative curiosity that fans are sure to appreciate.

2025 Repress

The Colombian producer whose name is on everyone's lips, figure of the underground in his native land, Felipe Gordon makes a sensational debut on our beloved label SKYLAX RECORDS ! His fabulous Django Mango EP mixes his house music obssessions with his love for Latin & jazz music. Adept of analog equipment and eminent musician, he gives us a real work of art to store alongside Nuyorican souls legends (master at work in mind). Kicking off the release, the title song django mango takes us through the swirls of the alleys of bogota, a bit as if moodymann had paid for a first class round trip in bogota , a laid-back title that can be enjoyed at any time of the day. a clever mix of funky bassline & a light piano that almost reminds us of the masters of the buena vista social club (without the vocals!) in house mode. A masterpiece in itself. on A2, we can hear this mixture again the perfect fusion between the golden-age house aesthetics and the cultural sounds of South America all complemented by a superb vocal during the break "our names are nick names wich won't reflect where we came from" a statement in itself ! The b-side from the outset gives us perhaps one of the best songs of the ep, the brilliant dakar, a subtle mix of rhodes, swaying bass and African children's chants. And to end, D, Fuck Off All Your Trouble, is an ode to the resilience of the motor city in the purest style of the 313. A brillant debut !Skylax 4 Ever

Next up in the Mr Bongo Cuban Classics series is an outing by the mighty Juan Pablo Torres from 1978. Released on Cuba’s state-owned Areito imprint, Algo Nuevo showcases trombonist, bandleader, arranger and producer Juan Pablo Torres' unique scope of sound. A melting pot of an album that weaves together jazz-funk and traditional Afro-Cuban genres with tripped-out synth touches and dancefloor grooves.

The opener 'Pan Caliente' is a fiery celebration, combining a driving groove with Latin percussion, feverish horns and infectious “la-la-la” vocals. The wild, squelching cosmic synthlines give an otherworldly touch to proceedings that sit nicely on a modern dancefloor. 'Guajira 2001' is perhaps Juan's future-focussed take on the vibrant style of Cuban dance-led music called guajira. Blistering bongos, congas and claves moving together with trumpets, trombones and twanging acoustic guitars that you can’t help but bounce to.

Other highlights include, 'Cacao', a Cuban cosmic funk strutter that places the claves upfront, with a scatting vocal line and percussive climax reminiscent of George Kranz electronic disco anthem 'Din Daa Daa' from 1983. Elsewhere, 'Elvira' further showcases the psychedelic essence of many of the album’s tracks. A deep Latin workout where tasty percussive breaks and scorching keys blend with trippy vocals and rumbling synths.

A varied album encompassing a variety of Afro-Cuban genres and rhythms entwined with flashes of mind-bending cosmic influence. Algo Nuevo is a further jewel in Cuba’s musical crown of riches, with plenty of dancefloor treats and downtempo numbers held within

Colemine Records is excited to put out their first 45 with The Charities, a sweet-soul band out of sunny California. The group's sound is a melting pot of cultures, exhibiting a mix of soul, r&b, rock, and funk. The A-side of this 45, 'Fatal Attraction,' explores just that. In some relationships, the very qualities that draw you in can also lead to your destruction. She's captivating_beautiful, intelligent, and charming_but beneath the surface, she's narcissistic and self-centered, with no regard for the pain she causes. When you're lost in the intensity of love, it's easy to overlook these darker traits. But when the time comes for her to move on, she'll strike without hesitation, delivering a blow that cuts deep. Her words, sharp as a knife, tear through your heart with cold precision. As you bleed out, she offers nothing but a final, indifferent goodbye...."It's Not Our Time," on the B, tells the story of two lovers who find themselves at a crossroads, torn apart by the struggles they face in this chapter of their lives. Perhaps in the future, they'll rekindle their love and spark a new flame_one that burns even brighter then before. It's a bittersweet goodbye, with the belief that the distance and time apart will only strengthen their bond when the moment is right.The tracks are produced by Anthony Masino and were recorded at Penrose Recordings in Riverside, CA.

The fifth album from H. Hawkline (Huw Evans), ‘Milk For
Flowers’, is released via Heavenly Recordings.
Following the 2017 album, ‘I Romanticize’, and 2015’s ‘In
The Pink of Condition’, the album was produced and
features musical contributions from long-time collaborator
and celebrated solo artist Cate Le Bon. Artwork is
designed by H. Hawkline.
Recorded at Rockfield Studios in Monmouthshire, the
album features a host of musical collaborators - Davey
Newington (Boy Azooga) on drums, Paul Jones (Group
Listening) on piano, Tim Presley (White Fence, DRINKS,
The Fall) on guitar, Stephen Black (Sweet Baboo) and
Euan Hinshelwood (Younghusband, Cate Le Bon) on sax,
Harry Bohay (Aldous Harding) on pedal steel and John
Parish (PJ Harvey, Aldous Harding) on infrequent bongo.
The record was then engineered by Joe Jones (Aldous
Harding, Parquet Courts) and mixed, after an unlikely and
fortuitous crossing of paths, by the Grammy-nominated
Patrik Berger (Charli XCX, Robyn, Lana Del Rey), and
mastered by Heba Kadry (Deerhunter, Cass McCombs,
Cate Le Bon).
‘Milk For Flowers’ is at once visceral and enlightened, its
soundscapes verdant yet delicately rendered, and with this
latest, most intimate work, H. Hawkline bares his blood,
bones and soul beautifully. And quietly, along with the
entrails and rubble held in ‘Milk For Flowers’’ reliquary,
there hides a small, green kernel of life; hope, perhaps,
that today’s decay might nourish tomorrow’s blooms.
Available on CD and LP with rigid ‘tip-on’ sleeve with antiscratch matt lamination and digital download code.

In 2045, researchers at MindTech discovered an anomaly in neural networks used for direct data transmission into the human brain. They called this phenomenon “Phantom Scripts” — mysterious glitches in the code that activate when a person falls asleep or closes their eyes. Deprived of visual stimuli, the brain becomes more receptive and starts responding to internal impulses from the neuro-interface, generating unexpected images and phrases, as if creating messages from the void.

Analysis revealed that these scripts are particularly active during deep sleep or meditation, when the mind is most vulnerable to external influence, as though an intelligent force is attempting to communicate through the subconscious. What lies behind these messages and why they appear remains unknown. Perhaps the answers are hidden in the darkness itself.

The story of So-Do is both familiar and completely unique. A classically trained multi-instrumentalist with a poet’s sensibility and a passion for folk music meets a worldly bar owner with a love for psychedelia, post-punk and dub in the small town neither could bring themselves to leave. Over two years, they play dozens of shows in independent live houses across Japan, cut and self-release three singles – two 7”s and a 12” – and leave behind just eight tracks, all of which are set to be reissued for the first time forty years on.

So-Do’s Studio Works ’83-’85 collects the full output of this iconoclastic post-punk phenomenon, whose sparse, syncopated arrangements were infused with a dubbed-out flair that owed more to Dennis Bovell’s productions of Orange Juice, the Jah Wobble basslines of Public Image Limited or Adrian Sherwood’s live dubs of Mark Stewart than even they knew at the time.

Because for lead songwriter Hideshi Akuta, music offered an escape from the existential malaise of small-town life, folding a melancholy nihilism into tracks like ‘Kakashi’ and ‘Hashiru’ (which translates as ‘run’), or taking aim at the inequalities and creeping apathies of the middle classes, as he does on ‘Get Away’ and ‘Nothing’.

And if Talking Heads had CBGBs, Sex Pistols had the Roxy, then So-Do had Buddha. Influenced by Buddha venue owner and amateur producer Atsuo Takeuchi, Akuta turned So-Do’s sound towards dub, crafting playful, ironic and funky compositions that crackle with live energy at the vanguard of Japan’s nascent independent music scene.“So-Do is hard to explain,” Takeuchi says. “It’s been a struggle for years to try to find the words for our music.” The answer perhaps, is just to listen.

Both familiar and completely unique, So-Do extend Time Capsule’s genre-defining exposition of Japan’s reggae-inspired music of the ‘70s and ‘80s, as collected on the label’s two critically acclaimed Tokyo Riddim compilations, and London-based live outfit Tokyo Riddim Band.

Embracing the rip-it-up-and-start-again ethos of the early ‘80s, So-Do burned bright for a short time and then burned out. Their legacy is about to be reignited. Expect it to catch alight once more.


All songs are written & composed by Hideshi Akuta

Produced by Atsuo Takeuchi

Artwork by Ben Arfur
Liner Notes by Anton Spice, Ayana Honma, Kay Suzuki

Curated by Kay Suzuki

Licensed from Atsuo Takeuchi (Oregano Cafe)

Tape Restoration and Mastered by Mike Hillier at Metropolis Studios, London, UK

Time Capsule | TIME023 | 1983-1985 → 2025

Imagine a nocturnal rendezvous between the lyrical playfulness of Serge Gainsbourg and the infectious yet smooth danceability of Daft Punk. Tormento is a sexy soft disco odyssey that weaves a contemporary fantasy where dilemmas and desires—torments of the heart and flesh—are bathed in the sultry glow of classic erotic cinema.

Recorded in Los Angeles and Paris, the song is a collaborative effort between composer and multi-instrumentalist Louis Fontaine, DJ and music supervisor Alix Brown, and lyricist and writer Margo Fortuny. This sonic tale of longing and uncertainty, ignited by the trio's shared love for 1970s sounds, cinema, and style, draws inspiration from the cinematic soundscapes of François de Roubaix and from French and Italian chanson.

Tormento pairs a haunting, nostalgic melody with a late-70s disco arrangement featuring a mix of vintage synthesizers, driving basslines, and rhythmic percussion. Alix Brown's ethereal vocals convey the electrifying thrill of an immediate, magnetic attraction.There's seduction, mystery, the poetry of a moment, the allure of transgression, indecision, and all the things that happen late at night. When faced with temptation, what do you do? Perhaps, yousurrender to the sweet, intoxicating rhythm of the forbidden.

Adance song for night owls, loners, and romantics, Tormento is out on 7" and digital on February 14th, 2025, courtesy of Four Flies.

Since launching her own club night, “Motivation,” back in 2018, B.AI has played a key role in bringing the underground’s club sounds to her home country, China. While introducing some of the scene's most exciting artists to her local audiences, she emerged as one to look out for as well: first as a DJ and quickly thereafter as a producer. Her original takes – a sensitive, highly personal approach to melody and a knack for playing with expectations – crystallized in a slew of A+ releases and a couple of international tours. This trajectory, shaped by taking matters into her own hands and self-empowerment, now sees a logical next step, with the inception of a label that will also operate under the “Motivation” banner and features her own “Hope” EP as its first release.

Sparkling mallets, with synth-pop quality catchiness, open the title track. Rather than further evolving, their two-bar arrangement gets looped over and again, serving as the foundation for a slick FM bass rhythm and a variety of hooks. Although these incline to the bright, the overall vibe is melancholic. In vintage B.AI style, the aptly titled “Hope” is more ambiguous than its patches suggest. Similarly, the vocal this type of palette would call for ultimately comes in the form of aloof, covert musings. A bit buried in the mix, they are most efficient – just like the tension that keeps brooding underneath the surface.

“Murderbot Diaries 1991” turbocharges four-to-the-floor synthetic drums with an arpeggiated rolling bass. The blue note melody on top feels sequenced via a pocket calculator, and the dissonant, electroclash-reminiscent stabs that follow might sound even more angular. The tune is frantic, sinister – and perhaps above all tongue in cheek. It reaches fever pitch with the arrival of a tubular bell theme between the two breaks.

“Once”’s slomo cutoff modulation on the 16th note mid-bass instantly creates a sultry atmosphere that meshes greatly with the pastel cool of the gently delayed DX7 leads. The energy drifts between effortless control and uncertain outcome. These contrasts are amplified as the drums alternate amidst moderation and beat-repeat rendered havoc.

On “Only We Know,” a progressive sine lead lays out the central motif. Yet as briskly as it appears, it makes way for detuned, gliding square waves taking on the same theme. This outlines the track’s structure: as slightly morphed repetitions keep getting introduced almost haphazardly, a dreamlike, mesmerizing ambience unfolds. Techy drum rhythms and a 101-type bass make sure everything stays fuelled. Within the ingenious tapestry of melodies and new twists, it never loses touch with the dance floor. It illustrates B.AI’s club savvy neatly and is therefore a perfect closer for this EP.

While they’ve been active for more than two decades, it’s only been in recent years that the Berlin and New York based contemporary sonic arts platform, Soundwalk Collective, has begun to gather the accolades and attention that they rightfully deserve. Firmly rooted within a multi-disciplinary practice that engages the narrative potential of sound within the contexts of visual art, dance, music and film, as well as tapping anthropological, ethnographic, and psycho-geographic research, they’ve gained great note for collaborations with Jean-Luc Goddard, Nan Goldin, Sasha Waltz, Charlotte Gainsbourg, and numerous others.

Building on the back of 2023’s brilliant “All the Beauty and the Bloodshed”, Soundwalk Collective now returns with “Khandroma”, one of their most fascinating and singular endeavours to date, which re-engages their enduring creative partnerships with Patti Smith. Issued by Ubi Kū, a brand new imprint founded by the Italian Buddhist Union dedicated to the relationships between Buddhist cultures, music, and sound, across the album’s stunning two sides this incredible ensemble draws inspiration from and conjures Tibetan deities, the Himalayan Plateau, the valleys of Nepal and the highest peaks where the most ancient Buddhist temples reside, culminating as a sprawling sonic tapestry like little else. Issued as a beautifully produced, limited edition vinyl LP and CD, mixed and mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi, complete with a booklet featuring liner note essays penned by Chiara Bellini and Filippo Lunardo, and images by Stephan Crasneanscki, it’s hands down among our favourite releases by Soundwalk Collective to date and not to be missed!

An international experimental sound art collective founded in 2001 by the artists Stephan Crasneanscki, who was joined in 2008 by producer Simone Merli, Soundwalk Collective is a contemporary sonic arts platform, featuring a rotating constellation of artists and musicians, that, in vastly varied number of ways, has continuously explored the remarkable potential of sound within the contexts of visual art, dance, music and film, offering particular emphasis to anthropological, ethnographic, and psycho-geographic research, examining conceptual, literary or artistic themes. In addition to their many collaborations and accolades that attend to an increased ambitious catalog of releases, they scored Laura Poitras’ film, “All the Beauty and the Bloodshed”, which won the Golden Lion at the 2022 Venice Film Festival, as well performed and exhibited at Berghain, CTM Festival, documenta, Manifesta, New Museum, and Centre Pompidou, where they notably opened “Evidence”, a exhibition with Patti Smith comprising an audio-visual journey from the work of French poets Arthur Rimbaud, Antonin Artaud and René Daumal. While Soundwalk Collective’s output and use of sonority - sometimes original composition and others manipulated archival recordings - and context is varied, the project’s endeavours are unified by a focus on sound as material that is both tactile and poetic, pursuing layered narratives that address ideas of memory, time, love and loss. Their latest, “Khandroma”, enlisting Patti Smith’s contribution on one of its tracks, stands among the most exciting and rich of these explorations yet.

Perhaps the best way of approaching “Khandroma” is through Soundwalk Collective’s longstanding focus on the discipline of psycho-geography - a practice that interrogates the impact of an environment’s embedded histories and meanings on the psychology of the present - as well as the group’s integration of observations of nature, and uses of non-linear narrative, as a vehicle for recording and the synthesis of meaning. Like previous projects that have encountered them traveling extensively across the world, occupying diverse environments for long periods of investigation and fieldwork, during which they source materials for subsequent works, the material roots of “Khandroma” are a body of field recordings made by Crasneanscki, Francisco López, and Merli at altitudes between 2,760 and 4,500 meters, in varying locations across Upper Mustang during 2016.

Drawing the album’s title from the Tibetan feminine deity who reigns the skies, the album’s two compositions weave a stunning sonic tapestry from collaged sounds of nature, bells, drones, unplaceable tones and vocals, and in the case of its second piece, “Chasing the Demon”, the voice of Patti Smith, culminating as a deeply emotive and imagistic expanse that taps something far more profound than any of its single parts. As the collective states: “the album traces the continuous morphing of the wind into sound expressions. The Himalayan Plateau seems designed to amplify and echo the encounter of the breaths, the prayers, and the chants emerging from around and within those temples; amid the sounding of bells, the turning of prayer wheels, and the billowing of flags. A resonant musical body that we recorded so as to capture its boundless mutations; an unstoppable force that cries, whispers, and blows through and over stones, wood, empty halls and monastic robes, etching an ever-changing sonic landscape onto the surfaces it encounters.”

Immersive, stunningly beautiful, and haunting, “Khandroma” draws the ancient and distant into the consciousness of the present, close to home, bordering on the profound. Issued by Ubi Kū as a beautifully produced, limited edition vinyl LP and CD, mixed and mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi, complete with a booklet featuring liner note essays penned by Chiara Bellini and Filippo Lunardo, and images by Stephan Crasneanscki, we can’t recommend it enough.

Is it really into the unknown? Lewis Fautzi is once again with us, in his own imprint, and everytime he is around we feel deeply appreciated. It means that, although there's a guide line that immediately identifies his work as his, he also opens a little bit more to us. Every EP is like a step further into his own mind, a breach to the deepness of his intrusive thoughts and ideas. All the words would be useless if we tried to describe this one. The tracks are self explainable and were meticulously created as that is part of his trademark. And regarding the first question we can only answer yes, it is really into the unknown. Or at least into something of his we have never experienced before. And perhaps after listening to it we'll be able to know him and understand his work a little bit better than before.

As the tenth candle flickers atop the torta alla panna, Archeo Recordings play the Uno reverse card, breaking with tradition to give us a gift in celebration of its birthday: the first in a series of exquisite EPs on which the label's favourite contemporaries pay homage to past masters. Each re-polished gem is plucked either directly from the beatific back catalogue of the fine Florentine label or is at least Archeo-adjacent, perhaps a sign of future wonders to come. Like a musical version of Janus, who can be found at the heart of Bertoldo di Giovanni's frieze in the Medici villa, Archeo Recordings will continue to look forwards and backwards to provide sublime sounds for us all.
Pepe Maina officially joined the Archeo family in 2019 with the much-needed reissue of his 1979 masterpiece Scerizza (AR015), but his astounding music has been a constant companion to label head Manu for much longer. An inter-dimensional, multi-instrumental maverick, Maina weaves the frayed edges of prog rock, new age, organic jazz and global minimalism into a shimmering tapestry all of his own. The results are spread across fifty years and almost as many albums, largely self-released and always absolutely untarnished by commercial concerns.
Based in a small village in the hills of Brianza, just north of Milan, Maina translates the beauty of his surroundings into transformative tone poems, and the folkloric fusion of "The Infinite", originally released on his 2014 CD Tales From The Hill, is the perfect example of his practice. It opens with a recitation of Giacomo Leopardi's 1825s poem "L'Infinito" by famed Italian actor Vittorio Gassman. A leading figure in the romantic movement, Leopardi explores the idea of time and space within the natural world, and the peace that comes with an appreciation of the immensity of eternity. Manu, longtime digger and now a burgeoning producer, expands upon the original with tribal percussion, chirping electronics and a spheric bassline, folding Maina's elegant strings and gossamer pads into a new arrangement suited for a slow dance under the stars.
Unless you had a well-trained ear tuned to Italy's avant-jazz scene, chances are your first encounter with innovative flautist Roberto Aglieri came via the 2017 Archeo reissue of hisalmost untraceable LP Ragapadani (AR011). It's a true testament to Manu's digging credentials that he snatched this masterpiece out of the esoteric atmosphere and brought it attention it so richly deserved. A delicate union of digital synthesis and versatile flute - be it soft and silvery or
brilliant and clear - the 1987 album was a shapeshifting masterpiece, replaying scenes from Virgil, Verdi, Visconti and Pasolini with a neon glow. Quintessentially Italian, but uncanny and previously unimagined - Penthouse and Portico perhaps. Powered by a percolating prototechno sequence, cascading keys, hallucinogenic vocal snippets and a variety of tonal timbres from Roberto's reed, "Danza N. 1" long deserved the praise reserved for Jean-Luc Ponty's pinnacle, so many thanks to Manu for our collective introduction. The tall task of reinterpreting this particular paragon falls to Perugian polymath Daniele Tomassini AKA Feel Fly, whose peerless skills as both producer and musician have delighted DJs and dancers alike. Hot on the heels of his diverse and definitive remixes of Tony Esposito for AR027, Daniele delivers a radical rework of "Danza N. 1" perfect for both day rave sunshine and full moon party alike. Enhanced by snapping breaks and a rattling kick, the bassline gurgle emerges as a progressive powerhouse, laying the foundation for the trilling flute and circular keys to cast a psychedelic spell. As the slow-Goa revival picks up pace, this one is way ahead of the pack.
Archeo take us all the way back to the start of its story here - well almost. Though it bore the stamp AR001 (2015), this Radio Band reissue actually hit shelves months after Tony Esposito's "Je-Na' / Pagaia"; a false start perhaps but a true classic all the same. Radio Band were a group of DJs from Florence who all sailed the airways of Radio Fantasy in 1984 and whose one and only release was this super groovy slice of Italo-boogie. Following the example of Milanese DJs Band of Jocks but far surpassing their formulaic funk fizzle, Radio Band employed an intergalactic bassline, cosmic keys and that undeniably Italian style of rapping to deliver a sophisticated party-starter which even found its way to disco deity Ron Hardy. Back to the here and now, and if you've found yourself pumping an ecstatic fist to a supercharged Italian epic of late, chances are its from the mind of the mysterious Radiomarc. Operating on the ascendent Popcorn Groove imprint, this shadowy figure steers his country's lost classics into peaktime territories, finding a sweet spot between late Italo-disco, early Italo-house and contemporary cool. Pushing the tempo with a club-ready 4/4, setting the sequencer to stun and supplementing the original melodies with a series of synth riffs, the mystery producer send this one into orbit. Radio Band - Radio Rap - Radiomarc, the circle is complete.
Few have done more to develop cross-cultural musical exchange than Futuro Antico. A collaborative venture from musician, archeologist and ethnomusicologist Walter Maioli, keyboardist and tonal theoretician Riccardo Sinigaglia and multi-disciplinary artist and composer Gabin Dabiré, Futuro Antico formed in Milan in 1979, combining ancient international folkloric traditions with otherworldly electronics. The result is an arresting melange of Mediterranean, African and Asian instrumentation, mimicked by esoteric synth tones and hypnotic minimalism, which the group perfected on their acclaimed 1990 LP Dai Primitivi All'Elettronica. The meditative and transportive "Pan Tuning" belongs to their largely overlooked 2005 CD only release Intonazioni Archetipe, and has been amongst Manu's most loved tracks from the first moment he heard it. Who else is better placed to reshape this evocative opus into an immersive, transcendental dance floor journey than label favourites Mushrooms Project? The duo sows the original elements into a sprawling fifteen minute fusion of séance and science, at times propulsive with a ritualist rhythm of tuned percussion and crunching drum machine at others drifting off into ethereal ambience. Mushrooms Project continue to push the boundaries of the Afro-cosmic style, and this remix marks a new zenith.

Poly dance Theatre speeds up the tempo (perhaps in search of lost time) and so here already the first announcement for the next release: POL008, called "Le Commerce" (The Business).

It's a very special record. Beyond the deep bass line, the efficient ryhtmics and the ghostly apparitions of dubbed-out commercial romantic melodies, this 10" is above all an object-question, a small political gesture of sabotage. Be careful. Be careful. Rare! Very very very rare! even unique! (…300 copies)

Prepare yourself "mentally", as the EP contains 4x the same track (and that's all). A track that spins. A track that does the trick. An eternal return. Difference and repetition? All this is a opportunity to question consumption, especially in the "world of music", the "world of records", the "world of DJs", the "world of nightlife"... and so on. Production, distribution, consumption. Objects. Things. A history from the 60s to today. Where are we now? Still here: Organizing lack in the abundance of production. Lack. Abundance. A history of desires. And music? What's its role? What do we want? What do you want?

On the cover, there are poems/collages about commerce, scarcity, abundance, commodity fetishism, an insulting letter and other little things.

Schlammpeiziger, who had previously only been known to us for his top hits and T-shirts, burst upon us like a wild boar in search of affection in the middle of the coronavirus lockdown. He nested in our fully vaccinated home, drank our Eversbusch, ate from our plates, slept in our bed (wait - wrong fairy tale) and repeatedly urged us to organise egg runs with his testicles (after some contortions, we gave up trying). Childish faecal humour, far-fetched obs(t)enities, juicing, a desire to dissolve, composting of thoughts. In excesses of lack of concentration, the chains of associations curled and meandered like Jo's famous curlicue drawings. Every evening, after we had forcibly levered him out of our flat, he would ‘walk’ home to put together very unique , dreamy pieces. In the blissful brainfog of those days, for example, ‘Handicapfalter’ was created, for which the congenial °Bär° made our flat into the corresponding video. Among other quirks of the little gut-breather, we were fascinated to observe his phobia of literature and books. Just hold a printed page in front of his face for a few seconds and he writhes on the floor crying. A level of phobia that only my own laughable disgust and fear of writing myself can compete with. Jo shudders at the thought of reading sentences that build on each other in a meaningful way, and I shudder at the thought of having to write them down because I have something ‘to say’. A certain affinity cannot be denied. We are much, much more pleased by snatched-up, misunderstood or misheard snippets, hollow but unforgettable phrases, the diamond stoner humour of our ancestors. ‘From one turn/ I stop/ to walk on/ in all directions’ (as it murmurs in “Selten Gesehenes”), describes the process quite nicely. After all, Jo is ahead of me in that he can simply break off every tedious sentence and let it fade into music. Back to the essentials. It's five to 12 for the Schlammpeitzger (scientifically Misgurnus). The shy goby is under threat from climate change, so perhaps this vinyl is the last expression of life of the specimen that we have been allowed to look after sporadically since the lockdown phase of the corona epidemic. And it's turned out pretty. Even the aesthetically gutted like me and my beloved husband can THINK about sex when they see these sublime, silvery fart bubbles! It's tender as a fart. Make love!!!!!

Schamlose Dubtöse: Do you have words. Do you have sounds. Impertinently harmless piano tinkling turns into tugging zounds of increasing severity. It is not dubbed (would be unethical) but dubbed. Sounds dubby, as you can imagine. (Instrumental)

Loch ohne Licht: Possibly vaguely misogynistic. Could also be that there was simply no light in the hole. The sparse snippet of lyrics (‘du biss mir och esu e Loch ohne Licht’) sounds like one of those stroppy Cologne replicas whose anti-charm is hard to resist. Buzzing and grooving.

Selten Gesehenes: Casual. Confident. Soft. Fragrant. Thoughtful but lively.

The Arabian Vietmanese (instrumental) is probably the food we trust in the case of the munchies we get when we watch other people smoking weed. Transcendental and psychedelic states casually permeate the humdrum of everyday life. Klar Knuspermarsch: Marches and floats at the same time. Klebt Runner: Soundtrack to the cult film of the same name. Tyrrell Corporation loosens up. Ungenutzte Sätze: Stinks somehow, because there is dangerous proximity to comprehensible and then also critical statements here. Instead, the sinister electronic cheapness of Carpenter soundtracks can be heard. Parzipan: Actually, the time of origin was not so roaringly funny and simple, but for Jo it was also a gruelling, slow letting go of his brother. Here he sends him off with a gentle nudge into the vastness of a hopefully happy beyond.

Clara Drechsler

Schlammpeiziger, der uns bislang nur durch seine Top-Hits und seine T-Shirts bekannt gewesen war, brach mitten im Corona-Lockdown über uns herein wie ein wilder Eber auf der Suche nach Zuwendung. Er nistete sich in unserem durchgeimpften Zuhause ein, trank unseren Eversbusch, aß von unseren Tellerchen, schlief in unserem Bettchen (Moment - falsches Märchen) drängte uns wiederholt dazu, mit seinen Hoden Eierlauf zu veranstalten (nach Verrenkungen gaben wir den Versuch auf). Kindischer Fäkalhumor, weit hergeholte Obs(t)zönitäten, Entsaftung, Auflösungswunsch, Gedankenkompostierung. In Exzessen der Konzentrationsschwäche ringelten, kringelten und schlängelten sich die Assoziationsketten wie bei Jos berühmten Kringel-Schlängel-Zeichnungen. Jeden Abend, nachdem wir ihn gewaltsam aus unserer Wohnung gehebelt hatten, „ging“ er dann heim, um dort sehr eigene, verträumte Stücke zusammenzubasteln. Im seligen Brainfog dieser Tage entstand z.B. „Handicapfalter“, für das der kongeniale °Bär° aus unserer Wohnung das entsprechende Video machte. Neben anderen Marotten des kleinen Darmatmers beobachteten wir fasziniert seine Literatur- bzw. Bücherphobie. Halt ihm nur sekundenlang eine bedruckte Seite vors Gesicht, und er windet sich weinend am Boden. Ein Grad an Phobizität, mit dem sich nur meine eigene lachhafte Abscheu und Angst vor dem Selberschreiben messen kann. Jo schaudert beim Gedanken, sinnvoll aufeinander aufbauende Sätze lesen, mir wiederum beim Gedanken, sie hinschreiben zu müssen, weil ich irgendetwas „zu sagen“ habe. Eine gewisse Verwandtschaft ist nicht zu leugnen. Viel, viel mehr freuen uns aufgeschnappte, falsch verstandene oder misshörte Fetzen, hohle, aber unvergessliche Phrasen, der diamantene Kifferhumor unserer Vorfahren. „Aus einer Drehung/bleibe ich stehen/ um in alle Richtungen/weiter zu gehen“ (wie es in „Selten Gesehenes“ raunt), beschreibt den Prozess schon ganz schön. Immerhin hat Jo mir voraus, dass er jeden leidigen Satz einfach abbrechen und in Musik ausplempern lassen darf. Zurück zum Wesentlichen. Es ist fünf vor 12 für den Schlammpeitziger (wissenschaftlich Misgurnus). Die scheue Grundel ist von Klimawandel bedroht, vielleicht haltet ihr mit diesem Vinyl also die letzte Lebensäußerung des Exemplars in Händen, das wir seit der Lockdownphase der Corona-Epidemie sporadisch betreuen durften. Und die ist hübsch geworden. Selbst aus ästhetischer Erwägungen Entdarmte wie ich und mein geliebter Mann, können bei diesen sublimen, silberhellen Pupsbläschen DENNOCH an Sex denken! It´s zart as a fart. Make love!!!!!

Schamlose Dubtöse: Hast du Worte. Hast du Töne. Impertinent harmloses Klavierplätschern geht über in ziepende Zounds von zunehmender Strenge. Es wird nicht domptiert (wäre unethisch) sondern dubtiert. Klingt dubtig, wie ihr euch vorstellen könnt. (Instrumental)

Loch ohne Licht. Möglicherweise vage misogyn. Könnte auch sein, dass im Loch einfach kein Licht war. Das sparsame Textfetzchen („du biss mir och esu e Loch ohne Licht“) klingt nach einer jener pampigen kölschen Repliken, deren Anticharme man sich schwer entziehen kann. Schwirrt und groovt.

Selten Gesehenes: Lässig. Souverän. Softig. Duftig. Nachdenklich aber beschwingt.

Beim Arabischen Vietmanesen (Instrumental) gibt es wahrscheinlich die Speise unseres Vertrauens im Falle der Munchies, die wir kriegen, wenn wir anderen Leuten beim Kiffen zusehen. Transzendentale und psychedelische Zustände durchziehen beiläufig den schnöden Alltag. Klar Knuspermarsch: Marschiert und schwebt zugleich.

Klebt Runner: Soundtrack zum gleichnamigen Kultfilm. Tyrrell Corporation macht sich locker. Ungenutzte Sätze: Stinks irgendwie, weil hier gefährliche Nähe zu nachvollziehbarer und dann auch noch kritischer Aussage gegeben ist. Dafür klingt die sinistre elektronische Billigkeit von Carpenter-Soundtracks an.

Parzipan: Eigentlich war die Entstehungszeit gar nicht so brüllend lustig und einfach, sondern für Jo auch ein zermürbendes, langsames Loslassen des Bruders. Hier schickt er ihn mit sanftem Schubs hinaus in die Weiten eines hoffentlich schönen Jenseits.

Clara Drechsler
Downloads

Hybrid is a word used indiscriminately in our daily lives. This record isn't a hybrid; it's beyond hybrid, post-hybrid, so to speak. Does this phrase sound complicated to you, and are you never overly convinced by music theory and its caricatural aspect? Then forget what you’ve just read and listen to both sides of this record. You'll soon realise that these tracks are deliciously deft, drawing their essence from dub while leaving room for some skillful jazz writing. For those of you intrigued by melodies, the art of musique concrète or the exploration of dub music’s deviant angles, this record will easily find its place on your turntable.

The two sides of the record are cut with play, improvisation and effects, while leaving room for themes and ideas. If this record’s first chapter was born from a request to remix and pay homage to Jackie Mittoo, its themes tell another story. They have been declined and even reduced to an explosion point. The tracks are also driven by subtle details of musique concrète, giving the record the effect of an intimate musical production – but, above all, one of uncategorisable beauty.

In Androo’s case, this is hardly surprising. He is a craftsman who is unassailable in every respect, a poetic dynamiter and, for this reason, one of the most unpredictable musicians in Geneva (and beyond). His appetite for dynamite is perhaps an indication of his conception of music as, first and foremost, an experience. His highly personal and inventive tribute to figures from free jazz and contemporary music proves the point. But perhaps it is also an indication of his attachment to Jean-Luc Godard. You'd have to imagine Androo at his mixing desk without a pre-written script. The idea of editing infuses the record. The two sides are very much in this style and spirit: (un-)shot, meticulous, (ir-)reverent. In this respect, this record is a formidable proposition, and perhaps difficult to understand, but not striving to be understood.

Its combination of improvisation and composition is underpinned by a razor-sharp precision and dexterity that's hard to ignore, especially if you're curious about the art of sound mixing and the romantic accidents. It has a dexterity that transforms musical grids into romantic essays and sketches. A romanticism in which Androo takes us on a liberating musical experience that makes us forget the inertia of the ramping formatting of the record industry. In any case, this record is an invitation to (un-)think the category, and will delight any ear curious to wander into territories of intuition where the word hybrid no longer makes sense.

Text by Carl Åhnebrink

Limited 2024 Black Vinyl Repress

Osaka based psych-rock three piece Hibushibire return after a long break, with a new line up and a stunning third album. Produced by Acid Mothers Temple/Mainliner guru Makoto Kawabata who also guests on the album.

Following the successes of their debut album 'Freak Out Orgasm!' (2017), the follow up ‘Turn On, Tune In, Freak Out’ (2019) and two very well received UK tours. The band headed home to Osaka, Japan and then, the pandemic hit.

During this downtime, guitarist/vocalist Changchang decided to create a new power trio. Enter Tetsuji Toyoda (Bass/Vocals) & Aoi Hama (Drums/Vocals). The new trio have spent the last three years writing new music, playing live and honing their sound in Japan, and a short well received tour of Taiwan with Riot Season labelmates Dope Purple. And now finally, Hibushibire mark 2 is born properly.

“Hibushibire has returned after a change of members. A psychedelic, progressive work, suitable for a new beginning"

Entering the studio with Acid Mothers Temple/Mainliner guru Makoto Kawabata in the producer chair (and also as a guest musician) once again, the band recorded album number three, 'Magical Metamorphosis Third Eye’. Makoto also adds some of his own trademark guitar howls throughout the album, perfectly complimenting Changchang’s own growing prowess.

Here the band have taken their trademark psych-rock blasts and blended them perfectly with some more trippy, dare I say sweet progressive psychedelic sounds.

“The idea of this album is based on the theme of "occultism and mysticism". But it's not a serious thing, it's about the things we like (UFOs, pyramids, psychic phenomena, shamanism etc) and we all had fun while making it. In terms of what makes it different from the previous Hibushibire albums, it’s where AOI HAMA's vocals are present. I had wanted to use a female vocalist for a long time, so it was a good feeling!”

Like the band's first two albums, 'Magical Metamorphosis Third Eye’ is very much an album of two halves. Side one again is full of killer shorter tracks, while side two is reserved for a blinding majestic 20 minute epic ‘Ayahuasca Witch Abduction’. Perhaps the biggest musical surprise here though is probably track two, the beautifully mellow tripped out ‘We Won't Go Back To The Past’, which sounds like it’s been beamed straight out of the late 60s/early 70s.

The band also tip a nod to the Beatles psychedelic classic ‘Tomorrow Never Ever Knows’, but with their own twist of course.

It’s clear with the line up changes, Changchang has decided to expand the band's musical pathway, and he’s achieved stunning results.

The band plan to return to the UK and Europe in 2024 to see friends old and new.

From Sweden with Italo to Dresden with love. Stockholm's DJ City drops his first release on Dresden's Uncanny Valley with the COSMICOMICS EP, a 100% fun record for all the senses, deeply inspired by Italo Calvino's iconic short story collection.

The stories have inspired DJ City to a record that aesthetically draws from 80s Italo Disco and 70s science fiction films. In the book, each story is based on a scientific fact about the world and the cosmos whilst using fiction to ask how we understand it. Where Calvino's stories are comical and absurd, DJ City surrenders to the sublime and romantic and moves further into the metaphysical world that Calvino created to come up with three energetic and melodic tracks bursting heavily with fantasy and drama. Deeply rooted in dance music's history, they shine with Hi-NRG-vibes, strict dancefloor commitment and little easter eggs like that Drexciya-reference in COSMICOMICS.

The cover of the record is a painting from 2020 by Swedish artist Jens Faenge called THE INN. The picture seems to have been broken up into several dimensions, and abstract details make it difficult for the viewer to know exactly what and when the scene is taking place. When shown in Shanghai, the painting was censored by government agents and had to be taken down. A testament to the power of the image. Perhaps it shows our main character, perhaps it shows us the author or the artist. Depending on who listens, who reads and who looks, a multitude of universes open.

Since its founding back in 2014, Blume has carved a unique place in cultural landscape, issuing free-standing works, spanning the historical and contemporary, that represent singular gestures of creativity within the field of experimental sound. Joining their broad efforts in building networks of context and understanding that already includes the works by Werner Durand, Sarah Hennies, Bruce Nauman, John Butcher, Jocy de Oliveira, Mary Jane Leach, Valentina Magaletti, Alvin Curran, Julius Eastman, Alvin Lucier, and others, Blume return with the first ever vinyl release to attend to James Tenney’s legendary “Postal Pieces”, Marking the first ever appearance of five of the suite’s works - “Maximusic, for Max Neuhaus” (1965), “Having Never Written a Note for Percussion, for John Bergamo” (1971), “FFor Percussion Perhaps, or... Night, for Harold Budd” (1971), “Cellogram, for Joel Krosnick” (1971), and “Beast, for Buell Neidlinger” (1971) - on vinyl, drawing upon recordings made in 2003, by the Amsterdam based ensemble, The Barton Workshop, under the direction of James Fulkerson. Among the most important and highly regarded efforts in Tenney’s canon of compositions, as well as within the history of 20th Century music, these five pieces represent a crucial bridge between Fluxus-oriented conceptualism, minimalism, and the microtonal complexities that would emerge in their wakes. Issued in a highly limited vinyl edition of 300 copies, it includes exact replicas of the original postcard graphic scores, and features newly commissioned liner notes by Bradford Bailey, Blume’s brand new edition takes great steps to centring Tenney at the eye the storm during some of experimental music’s most important years.

A student of composition under Carl Ruggles, John Cage, Harry Partch, and Edgard Varèse - remaining close to all of them, and later performing in both Cage and Partch’s ensembles - as well as acoustics, information theory, and tape music composition under Lejaren Hiller, James Tenney carved a wide path within the contexts of experimental and avant-garde music during the second half of the 20th Century. Not only was he a tangible bridge between the generations of composer’s who laid much of the groundwork and the later movements of Fluxus, Minimalism, and the broader practices of experimental music, but Tenney is credited as having contributed one of the earliest applications of gestalt theory and cognitive science to music in 1961, before helping to pioneer the field of computer music at Bell Labs, during the following years.

Over the course of his career, Tenney produced music of such complexity and sophistication - paying little mind to the seductions of taste or dominant tropes of its own moment - that his work and legacy have largely remained under-recognised by the broader publics that have attended to most of his peers. Perhaps more pertinently, the body of work he produced can be perceived as too varied and complex to fit neatly within standard creative histories or critical frameworks, comprising harmonically complex works for acoustic instrumentation, musique concrète, the groundbreaking 1961 “plunderphonic” composition, “Collage No.1 (Blue Suede) (for tape)” - sampling and manipulating a recording of Elvis Presley - as well as algorithmic and computer synthesized music. Even here, within this single decade, a clear image of Tenney’s endeavours remains elusive. In addition to penning important theoretical texts, he collaborated and / or played with Max Neuhaus, La Monte Young, Steve Reich, Philip Glass, Michael Snow, Terry Riley, and numerous others; was an active member of Fluxus; starred in and composed music for Stan Brackage’s films; regularly worked with the Judson Dance Theater; co-founded and played in the ensemble, Tone Roads, with Malcolm Goldstein and Philip Corner; was a vocal advocate of the works of Conlon Nancarrow and Charles Ives, playing a significant part in the revival of both of their legacies; and regularly collaborated as a composer, musician, and actor with his then-partner, the artist Carolee Schneemann, notably co-starring in her film, “Fuses” (1965) and her legendary 1964 performance, “Meat Joy”, as well as creating sound collages for her films “Viet Flakes” (1965) and “Snows” (1970). Curiously, for a relatively absent figure in the historical and critical narratives, Tenney seems to have been the thread that bound multiple generations and disciplines of avant-garde practice in New York during this period.

Tenney was deeply invested in the quality and perception of sound. By 1970, this led him back to composing exclusively for acoustic instrumentation (though sometimes processed with tape delay) - in most cases utilising non-well tempered tuning systems to explore harmonic perception - a practice that he would remain steadfast to for the remainder of his life. This development roughly corresponded with his relocation to California, at the outset of the 1970s, following an invitation to teach at the newly founded music department at California Institute of the Arts (CalArts) in Valencia. Finding himself in regular contact with the harpist Susan Allen and the artist Allison Knowles, as well as at a great distance from many of his friends, in 1971 he completed (with the assistance of Knowles and Marie McRoy) “The Postal Pieces”, a project he had begun in 1965.

A suite of eleven compositions, “The Postal Pieces”, stands among Tenney’s well known and celebrated compositions, and illuminates the dualities embraced by the composer, notably his use of sound to develop consciousness in and of others, and his willingness to draw on elements and observations of everyday life; citing his strong dislike of writing letters as being the primary inspiration for their inception. In lieu, he conceived to send his friends - John Bergamo, Allison Knowles, Pauline Oliveros, La Monte Young, Harold Budd, Philip Corner, Joel Krosnick, Buell Neidlinger, Susan Allen, Max Neuhaus, and Malcolm Goldstein - short scores on the back of postcards. The suite is composed around three themes: Tenney’s concept of swell form (utilizing repetition and progressing through a structurally symmetrical arch), intonation, and the desire to produce “meditative perceptual states”.

A hugely important addition to Blume’s ever expanding efforts in context building and networks of creative practice, James Tenney’s “Post Pieces” is issued in a highly limited vinyl edition of 300 copies, which includes a exact replicas of the original postcard graphic scores, and features newly commissioned liner notes by Bradford Bailey.

We’re teaming up with ELUCID and Fat Possum for a limited edition of 300 copies of a Rush Hour black ice coloured edition.

E L U C I D, one half of the illustrious duo Armand Hammer, is here with the full-length follow-up to 'I Told Bessie'. Further experiments in the sonic, expanding on the 'live' side of music paired with the embracing of chaos. Something you haven't heard, or not so for a very long time. E L U C I D is here to reveal the bleakness of reality.



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''There is never time in the future in which we will work out our salvation. The challenge is in the moment; the time is always now.''
James Baldwin

A raw, crackling urgency runs through rapper-producer ELUCID’s new album REVELATOR like an underground power line. There is no space here for sepia-toned reminiscences or indulgent self-mythologizing. Intellectual rabbit holes have been filled in with concrete and rebar ; there is nowhere to hide and no off ramp from the audio Autobahn that ELUCID has fashioned—a renegade Robert Moses with gold fronts, bulldozing the homes of the powerful and the complicit. REVELATOR brims with the energy of now, with a refusal to look away. Carpe diem in a murder one mask.

Born in Jamaica, Queens, ELUCID has been on the cutting edge of New York’s underground scene since the mid-2000s. From the beginning, he has defied both convention and expectation. He ran with Okayplayer darlings Tanya Morgan, but his own music eschewed their throwback charm for glitchy noise experiments and bass-swamped culture jamming. His 2016 debut studio project Save Yourself (re-released in a deluxe edition last year) announced him in earnest. But in recent years, his Armand Hammer releases with partner-in-crime billy woods have received significant attention and acclaim. Serving as a followup to his last solo album—2022’s comparatively balmy I Told Bessie—ELUCID hoped to “re-distinguish” himself with REVELATOR, setting himself apart amidst the increasing attention around the music he and his friends are making together.

For ELUCID, this meant setting bold new challenges for himself. One of these was diving further into live instrumentation than ever before—”getting my Quincy Jones on,” as he puts it. The testing ground for this approach was Armand Hammer’s most recent project, 2023’s We Buy Diabetic Test Strips’ Möbius strip soundscapes, warmed with instrumental flourishes and skin-shedding beat progressions. With REVELATOR, though, ELUCID strove to create an atmosphere of chaos, embracing experimental electronics and atonal sample bursts. He worked on much of the album with co-producer Jon Nellen, who comes from a background in avant-garde and Indian classical music. “I wanted to get as freaky as I could at this moment. I wanted people to hear things, maybe for the first time, or in a way they haven’t for a long while,” the rapper explains.

ELUCID arrived at the studio with a collection of noise sources: non-referential samples, glitches and noises. Together he, Nellen, and others created forms out of them and, as ELUCID recalls, “just started playing drums with it.” Their fried, distorted sound was directly inspired by Miles Davis at his most uncompromising—specifically, the tone-clustering funk track “Rated X” from his 1974 double LP Get Up With It. At times, the pairing of rap with avant-fusion sounds also brings Emergency! from The Tony Williams Lifetime to mind, perhaps in an alternate timeline where the late drummer was listening to Ice Cube’s AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted.

“The World is Dog,” REVELATOR’s lead single, functions as the album’s aesthetic thesis statement. Like the Davis track, the textures are punishing, the tonality is in free-fall, and the driving breakbeat of a groove cuts in and out unceremoniously. Avant-jazz bassist Luke Stewart, who appears throughout the record, holds the whole thing together just long enough for ELUCID to tightwalk over the beat. This tension is exactly where REVELATOR sets itself apart; in a time of drumless loops, and safe soul samples, this is a high-wire act with no safety net. Similarly, the song announces the themes of the album within just a few phrases, evoking the way societies accept and adjust to new levels of debasement and brutality while suffocating under the weight of history: “Can’t clock the kill, all a mystery/Forced past will eating everyone eventually/The world is dog.”

Many of the songs on REVELATOR grapple obliquely with dissolution and disenfranchisement in America and across the world—the grim realities of our domestic sociopolitical climate and our involvement in foreign conflicts. “Much of my artistic and political sensibility comes from the Black arts movement here in New York,” ELUCID explains. “Recognizing the interconnected global struggles against oppression, artists and thinkers created works and actions in solidarity with freedom movements in South Africa and Palestine.” ELUCID cites intellectuals like Amiri Baraka, Kwame Nkrumah, Audre Lorde, Sonia Sanchez, and Nikki Giovanni among his heroes. (One track on the album is specifically inspired by Lorde’s work, “SKP,” citing the scholar’s paper “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic As Power.”) Songs like REVELATOR’s insistent closer “ZIGZAGZIG,” find ELUCID applying up-to-the-minute messaging, making explicit reference to the conflict in Gaza: “Feed a war machine…from river to sea, in lieu of peace.”

Despite ELUCID’s preference for cacophonous system overload here, the rapper also provides moments of respite. Recorded at The Alchemist’s Los Angeles studio, the laid-back, wheezing “INSTANT TRANSFER” is a collaboration with billy woods, which crystallizes their shared sense of creative determination. “With much momentum behind us and even more on the horizon, I knew a purpose, and that every step was ordered to that purpose,” ELUCID said of the experience. Meanwhile, the jittery “HUSHPUPPIES” is a playful anomaly on the track list, providing a snapshot of ELUCID watching his grandparents in the kitchen while preparing for Friday night fish fry dinners.

“Love still rules over on this side,” ELUCID says. ”I’m raising a family. We are making meaning and finding joy in the midst of all the fucked up-ness of everything around us because the alternative is cowardice and slow death. We remain rooted. We celebrate our people and our wins. Struggle is necessary.”

“IKEBANA” is one of ELUCID’s strongest statements of purpose on the record, blending the record’s heaviest themes with its most hopeful sentiments. supported by a shoutalong refrain and an urgent prog-funk groove. Breaking away from images of dissolution and crumbling societal systems that populate REVELATOR, ELUCID notes that the only way to navigate life’s bleakest landscapes is to cling to love and believe in those around you—to look forward toward something better that may or may not be possible. For the rapper, one of the album’s most trenchant lines comes during a centerpiece of a beat drop: “Being alive/I must look up.”

“The lyric ‘being alive I must look up’ is important especially in the context of this album. Much of the album imagery is harsh and reflects the actual doom some of us experience. But still I/we exist,” ELUCID explains.

Every artist is, in one way or another, the product of their time, bound by life’s leaden gravity to operate within the space of that which is already known. But there are some who are able to shake free of these ties, to shape the culture as it unfolds, to make the present their own.
Revelation, as a concept, points to the scales falling from people’s eyes—something that has been hiding in plain sight becoming clear. “The revelator relates to things that have been talked about, things that have been forecasted,” ELUCID adds. “And now they’re really here, and everyone sees it. And there’s no escaping.” REVELATOR plays out with the unmitigated power of those storms, laying waste to any genre conventions in pursuit of a certain physicality. Here, ELUCID develops a wholly distinctive musical language to explore our fractured modernity.

REVELATOR's packaging was designed by longtime Armand Hammer / Backwoodz art director, Alexander Richter.

Exploration, collaboration and curiosity define the rhythm at the beating heart of Mehmet Aslan’s exemplary compositions. The Swiss-born producer of Turkish heritage has already forged a singular path through production, DJing and full-band performances, navigating the more esoteric corners of Berlin’s club culture without sacrificing his musical heritage or innate creativity.

A conceptual new LP ‘Auguri’ follows on from 2021’s gnomic, ornate ‘The Sun Is Parallel’, which saw Aslan musically associate with the likes of Valentina Magaletti and Niño De Elche. ‘Auguri’ also has its foundations in collaboration, born out of a musical lab at Lyon’s annual
Nuits Sonores, the forward-thinking festival with whom Aslan has maintained a lengthy creative relationship.

The resulting audio-visual performance, ‘Bird Signals For Earthly Survival’ introduced Aslan, to the Greek filmmaker Stratis Vogiatzis. Drawing on the philosophy of Donna Haraway and envisioning new ways of being, of living on earth, Aslan and Vogiatzis crane their necks to the sky to witness flocks of birds performing spectacular movements in unison. Fluid and ancient, their organic waltz provides inspiration for Aslan’s extension of the project, spanning sonic shades of electro, ambient and modern folk psychedelia.

On the coastline of Vogiatzis’s home country of Greece, as in many places across the world, climate change threatens to effect the ancient migration pattern of millions of birds, just as their fellow beings on terra firma become increasingly entangled in a man-made disaster of their own creation. In unison, ‘Auguri’ is adorned by artwork from designer Xavi Bou. Known for his ‘ornithographies’, this striking visual captures avian life not only as a force, but a wry observer.

“We need to transform our connections with other living beings to protect the Earth and live together harmoniously”, reflects Aslan. “Personally, this project has made me more sensitive to this issue. I wanted to give back in return for the inspiration I've received."

Perhaps upending expectations of a more traditional ‘ambient’ album, Aslan commits some of his finest compositional work and understated songwriting to this urgent imperative, creating original music that nonetheless, has nature flowing through it. ‘Critters’ presents a spectral sound collage on which Aslan himself speaks from the texts composed at the residency, conjuring visions of “the birds flying… shape of the future”. Meanwhile, the undulating, psychedelic ‘Pigeon Blinks’ takes inspiration from more domestic scenes, charting the unexpected roosting and hatching of an egg on a kitchen window, while ‘Auguri’ gives the album it’s title in connecting to a higher plain, demonstrating Aslan’s ability to lure melody and catharsis from looping hypnosis.

Opener ‘Spectra’ provides a forceful, almost industrial breakbeat that establishes the exigency of the album as well as its sense of wonder, while ‘Euphoria’ reaches the potency of its promise slowly, with Aslan’s modular melodies meeting the flourishing percussion of guest player and multi-instrumentalist, POPP. Finally, ‘Aura’ delivers a cinematic conclusion, mixing an elegiac organ motif, haunting guitar chords and the prophetic sense of a scorched earth. Here, with patience and soaring production, Aslan once more makes the abstract and the unthinkable somehow tangible, mixing in sampled birdsong.

Accordingly, ‘Auguri’ is being released in accordance with EarthPercent, the music industry’s climate foundation, co-founded by Brian Eno. A portion of the album’s publishing will be credited as part of ‘The Earth As Your Co-Writer’ initiative, allowing artists to directly credit The Earth in their new compositions. Here, streaming and publishing from Aslan’s recorded sounds are automatically paid back to a number of vital initiatives worldwide.

Leaning into some of the most vital questions and anxieties of our time, ‘Auguri’ is not a project without a sense of hope. From studio to sea, Mehmet Aslan continues to look to the skies and beyond.

Balmat began our journey in 2021 with the release of Luke Sanger’s Languid Gongue. Now, three years later, we turn an important corner as the Norfolk musician rejoins us with Dew Point Harmonics, the first repeat appearance on the label. Sanger’s new album feels like a natural extension of his inaugural record for Balmat: It’s a bewitching collection of esoteric synth sketches that slips unpredictably between consonant repetition, poignant melodies, and gnarled bursts of noise that catch in the ear like burrs in hiking socks.

That natural metaphor is perhaps not accidental. Despite having been composed on Sanger’s diverse array of hardware and self-written software, many of the tracks were first conceived while Sanger was hiking in a particularly wild and isolated section of the Norfolk coast. The field recording that opens the album, on “6am Beach Walk,” was taken on one of his many early-morning walks there, in which he and his dog might go for miles without seeing another soul. The album’s title was inspired by the overnight condensation covering the long marram grass in the dunes, glistening in the early light (and drenching everything coming in contact with it) before evaporating in the morning sun. Indeed, the concept of dew point—the temperature at which water vapor condenses into a liquid—feels like the perfect metaphor for Sanger’s music, in which foggy ambience is distilled into glistening quicksilver orbs, transient spheres of perfection eventually absorbed back into the atmosphere.

A shapeshifting collection of richly detailed and deeply expressive electronic miniatures, Dew Point Harmonics is both a testament to the mysteries of transformation and an invitation to get lost in the wilderness of your own imagination.

Their debut album "Unbändige Kinder" by Angelo Repetto and Nicolas Balmer, alias Konstant, blossoms from the burdens of days gone by and describes their world in a phase of change and new beginnings.

Constantly looking ahead, driven by New Wave, Kraut and Post Punk, they define their own musical form. Both have been active in the Zurich scene for a long time and have come together to create their own language. The album is characterised by rawness, bluntness and the syllables from the heart. Honest and direct.

Recorded and produced by Domi Chansorn at Studio G5, the recording describes the rawness of our time. Perhaps the feeling of a generation – maybe just a breath of the wind.

For the release of "Unbändige Kinder", Subject To Restrictions Discs and Default Mode Records are joining forces and releasing the music into a world that needs it.

For Dutch artist Stefan Vincent, the feeling of melancholy also offers the opportunity for beauty to be found. “Decay and loneliness can serve a purpose. Depression can teach you things. To feel deep sadness also means the ability to feel profound
emotions.” he says. With this in mind, his debut album on MUSAR Recordings, “Post- Melancholy”, unpacks the twists and turns of grappling with this emotion, drawing from breaks, electro and IDM to make his most intricate work to date, after previous releases on Token, Dynamic Reflection, Symbolism, and Non-Series. Throughout “Post-Melancholy” Vincent traces the wave of melancholy and how it moves through the body, which allows for lighter moments alongside darker moods. Perhaps the lightest track on the album is its acidic-breaks opener, “Eyes Unclouded”, with its soaring acid lines and dazzling synths, which acts as a false pretense for the rest of the album. Tracks like “Poise”, “Arpeggino” and the meditative “Yonghegong Lama Temple Exit F” also break up the intensity. However, nestled between the more pacey, bass-weighted tracks on the album, these lighter openings still feel like tear-jerkers.

The more common associations of melancholy show up on tracks like “Another Skin To Wear” and “You Know This Isn’t Going To End Well”, which all create a more ominous feel via IDM and the polyrhythmic structures of drum’n’bass. Particularly on “Another Skin To Wear”, which borrows its name from a Radiohead lyric, the track's swooping motion feels realistic to melancholy’s chaotic and often unpredictable path. But, like all great storytellers, Vincent leaves the most poignant moment of the album for last with the rolling “8AM on the Train… (For Maarten)” devoted to his dear friend, Maarten, who sadly passed away at the young age of 36. This LP is dedicated to Maarten de Vries (1986-2022)

Celebrating thirty years of collaboration, Loren Connors and Alan Licht performed for two nights at OTO on May 5 and 6th, 2023. The shows celebrated a new release titled “At The Top of the Stairs”; a document of the pair's reunion in 2018 after a period of 8 years not playing together. It’s a dark, swirling two-sided spectral noir session, put out by the duo’s home label, Family Vineyard, and we expected a similar kind of atonal abyss to appear at the OTO residency. On the second night however, with the stage lit in blue, Connors took up a seat on the piano stool whilst Licht picked up the guitar. What followed was the duo’s first ever set with Connors on piano - one of only a few times Connors has played piano live at all - here captured and issued as The Blue Hour. Its spacious warmth came as a total surprise live, but makes complete sense for a duo whose dedicated expressionism takes inspiration from a vast spectrum of emotion. Both opening with single notes to start, it doesn't take long before a surface rises and begins to shimmer between the pair. A run up the keys, the drop of a feedback layer on a sustained and bent note. When the two begin to exchange notes in tandem, brief touches of melody and chord hover and the hush of the room is palpapale. After a while, Connors picks up the guitar, stands it in his lap and sweeps a wash of colour across Licht’s melody. Sharp, glassy edges begin to form, open strings and barred frets darkening the space. When his two pedals begin to merge, Licht finds a dramatic organ-like feedback and it’s hard not to imagine Rothko’s Chapel, its varying shades of blue black ascending and descending in the room. When Connors goes back to the piano for the second side, the pair quickly lock into a refrain and light pours in. It’s a kind of sound that Licht says reminds him of what he and Connors would do when the duo first started playing together 30 years ago. It’s certainly more melodic than some of their more recent shows, and the atonal shards of At The Top of the Stairs seem to totally dissolve. What is always remarkable about Licht is that his enormous frame of reference doesn't seem to weigh him down, and instead here he is able to delicately place fractures of a Jackson C Frank song (“Just Like Anything”,) amongst the vast sea of Connors’ blues. Perhaps it's the pleasure of playing two nights in a row together, or the nature of Connor’s piano playing combined with Licht’s careful listening, but the improvisation on The Blue Hour feels remarkably calm and unafraid. There’s nothing to prove and no agenda except the joy of sounding colour together. Totally beautiful.

Members of Papir & Causa Sui travel through new musical realms. 3 musicians with their own compass: Martin Rude & Jakob Skøtt have shared a wide range of musical quests: from Causa Sui’s “Bitches Brew of Stoner Rock” crossing the folk meditations of Sun River and arriving most recently as members of the pre-fusion electric dealings of the London Odense Ensemble. Papir guitarist Nicklas Sørensen is not merely adding a new layer to an established duo, but his presence to the party have brought it into more meditative dwellings. These pieces move slowly, evolving like the slow growth underneath the ground. Whereas Causa Sui & Papir have always excelled at blistering panoramic and often sundrenched sounds, Edena Gardens take a dive inwards and downwards rather than outwards. But there’s also an electrically charged ecstatic rawness to the dealings. Like Æther, the 10 minute opener’s 2 guitars-and-a-drum kit improv, finding it’s way from tumbling drones into monolithic slow riffage. Elsewhere, we find trails of electronic vapors, misfiring bursts of noise and slow drones stretched out. Edena Gardens is a thing to be experienced first hand - it’s not for everyone, but those who decide to stay are greatly rewarded. It’s a debut unlike any other record on El Paraiso, perhaps unlike any you’ve ever heard. Welcome to Edena Gardens. Tracklist: 1. Aether 2. Sliding Under 3. The Canopy 4. Hidebound 5. Now Here Nowhere 6. Iod 7. An t-eilean Dubh

DJ support: Tim Sweeney, Make A Dance, Parris, Pleasure Voyage, Camillo Miranda

Back yard - Back yard is the first single from the new Teen Daze album, Elegant rhythms, and features singer-songwriter Andy Shauf on drums, and LA jazz staple, Sam Wilkes, on bass. This is a stark change in sound for Teen Daze, who’s last album Interior was an exploration of neon-lit House music. Back yard is a mellow groover, conjuring up images of Laurel Canyon in the 70s, yet still with its flourishes of contemporary sounds.

We’re out of phase again - We’re out of phase again is another vulnerable glimpse into the inner world of Teen Daze, and marks the release of his most personal album to date, Elegant rhythms. In contrast to the synthesized, digital world of his prior album, Interior, here we’ve been brought into a lush, organic arrangement, brought to you in large part to the stunning bass playing by Sam Wilkes. While the verses pulse forward, the chorus slows things down, and evokes the sophisti-pop sounds of The Blue Nile. This track is a stunning showcase of the world of Elegant rhythms.

Nothing’s gonna change my love - Teen Daze returns with his second single of the year, Nothing’s gonna change my love. The stark change in sound, as heard on previous single Back yard, is on display here again: a smouldering, 2 and a half minutes of slow jazz-pop, indebted to the great Sade, or perhaps the feeling of leaving downtown LA at 2 AM. Lyrically, we hear a story of a love, challenged by the unpredictable nature of our lives. This may be Teen Daze’s smoothest song to date.

Neighbourhood - Neighbourhood is the third single from the recently announced LP from Teen Daze, Elegant Rhythms. Along with Andy Shauf on the drums, and Sam Wilkes on the bass, Teen Daze gives us a languid tour of his quiet neighbourhood. The sun has set on the pleasant, tree-lined streets, and a stranger, more surreal environment presents itself. The song plods forward at an extremely comfortable pace, held down by the paradoxically loose-yet-tight rhythm section. Lyrically, we walk around the Neighbourhood at night, and while the chorus reveals a type of sobriety, the vibe of the song makes it easy to feel a little…effected.

Fade away - Fade away sets the tone for Elegant Rhythm’s side B: a deeply personal, though somewhat veiled, confession of loss. How does it feel to grieve something that was never really here? A smouldering, slowly progressing first half erupts in synthetic noise, and then fades into the ether with it’s repeating refrain, “I can feel you / feel you fade away / when there’s nothing / nothing left to say”.

Fall ahead - A sweet piano tune which serves as a quiet break in the record, intended to help the listener reflect and take a moment of pause before we reach the final two songs on the album.

HST underwater - The penultimate track on the record tells a story where the narrator finds themself in an alien, yet oddly familiar place. Arpeggios soaked in crystal blue water flow through the stereo field, while the narrator, vocoded and drenched in autotune, searches for meaning and purpose in a confusing world. This is one of Teen Daze’s most cinematic, emotional songs yet.

In the rain - It’s never really made explicitly clear on this record, but a lot of these songs find Teen Daze wrestling with life as a new father, and this song, the final on the album, expresses the fears of generational trauma. A touching, tender ode to his children, we hear Teen Daze at his most personal and vulnerable. The falling rain surrounds some absolutely breathtaking bass playing from Sam Wilkes, and Teen Daze’s signature ambient keyboard sounds.

Radio Support: Ruf Dug (Soup To Nuts on NTS)

In Mr Bongo’s opinion, 'Imprevisto' is one of the most unmistakable Brazilian jazz records ever made. Dramatic intro and hypnotic piano line, decorated with panned percussion before the hats come in. Then the upright bass. A true classic.

Bossa Três formed in 1961 in Rio. They spent most of their early years touring jazz clubs in the USA, before the original line up and their pianist (and perhaps most well-known band member) Luis Carlos Vinhas, returned to Brazil. This is the final track on their Em Forma! LP from 1965, released on Forma. The original pressing of this Brazil 45 was the first time ‘Imprevisto’ had been released on a 7”.

We know very little about Ana Rosely. She released four 7” 2-track records between 1975 and 1984, the latter featuring the brilliant ‘Skim Dum Dum Dum’. The original version was released by RGE Discos in 1984, which came as a surprise to us given the sound. It is very difficult to find an original copy in good condition and they are, as ever, increasing in price.

microCastle’s second offering of 2024 welcomes Upercent back to the label for a new EP. Since first appearing in 2011, Valencia based sound architect Upercent has developed a distinct brand of electronic futurism. An enthusiastic attitude towards experimentation, coupled with extraordinary creative vision has made the Spaniard one of the more unique artists to emerge in the last decade. Upercent’s first microCastle project, 2018’s 'Vuit', not only served as the imprint's second ever vinyl release, but continued the Valencia resident’s mission to create contemporary club tools and destabilizing sound explorations. Seemingly in constant motion moving forward, Upercent would go on to record projects for Diynamic, Kompakt and Watergate, amongst others, firmly establishing his place amongst the underground’s premiere talents. Now more than five years on from this elusive string of projects, it has been Habitat, Innervisions, Sum Over Histories and TAU which have been vehicles for his creative swell over the last two calendar years, reminding us of the niche he carved out during his initial rise, as he continues to maneuver himself through the confines of electronic music. With 2024 being highlighted by ‘Falling’, a two-track collaborative project with Germany’s Adana Twins, Upercent now returns to microCastle with ‘Persevere’.

Beginning with the organic monochromes of ‘Oracle’, Upercent’s craftsmanship reveals itself across the slow-burning piece, one where funked-up beats and rubbery basslines get peppered with skittering rhythms, thought provoking vocal samples and glitched-out electronics. Its subdued yet swing-heavy suspense while perfect for an astute dancefloor, also acts as an ideal segue into the hopeful qualities of ‘As It May See’. Paul Brenning’s vocals feature here, falling like raindrops atop woody kick drums and clustered sonics, eventually giving way to an interlude of soulful phrasing, coaxing beautifully with granular textures and ghostly swirls of wind, before tastefully moving forward as panoramic arps emerge for a mesmerizing finale.

Upercent’s distinct aesthetic continues on the fourth selection ‘Cult’. Perhaps the most direct composition on the EP, its six-minute running time quickly sets you adrift in a techno-inspired wasteland of deconstructed vocals and retro chord stabs. Both intimate and wide-ranging, it's a series of crystal-like drones which engulf your attention whole, creating a sombre, ceremonial backdrop for misty glitches and fog-like swells to create a scenic storyboard. Reverberating hits and twitchy rhythms fill the space of closer ‘Blau Cel’, a production where Upercent crafts a trek through mountainous dancefloor trails. Unbound by gravity, orchestral gestures sweep across mossy plains and frost-filled sighs, offering listeners another immersive journey into the uncharted realms of musical expression.

Italian producer Gemil returns with Planet X on Deep Down Space Records, marking the label's second release. 'Dance Phobia' immediately grabs your attention with its serious bass groove while the energy builds. A mid-tempo minimalistic house track enriched with vocal samples that add a house appeal, while the track’s tension mounts through the break before cruising smoothly to its end. "Reaction" dives even deeper, presenting a creative, addictive rhythm track with a tech appeal. Swirling chords and airy, euphoric elements blend seamlessly over a classy 90s house feel, leading into a moody alien melody in the second half—perfect for late-night dancefloors and growing more impressive with every listen.

On Side-2, the title track 'Planet X' is an exciting and creative blend of sounds, even earning an approval nod from HAL 9000 in the mix. Italy is known for their wonderful history of ambient house. This piece has that legendary sound and appeal to be a classic while providing many smiles on the dancefloor. Lastly, 'Soul Killers' delivers an addictive house mantra that everyone can get behind. It's perhaps the most underrated track on the EP but is sure to find its way into the sets of classy house music DJs. Don't be a Soul Killer!

Planet X by Gemil is a splendid EP, capturing the essence of house music with a touch of techno sophistication, ideal for both connoisseurs and late-night revelers alike. Welcome to Planet X!

2024 Repress

Straight in the wake of their eponymous debut LP released on the label back in 2016, Weval return to Kompakt this year with their sophomore album, 'The Weight', breaking their pop-mellow, nostalgia-friendly facet further out in the open as they arrive "at this place again were everything felt spontaneous, new and exciting, like we had in the beginning". Orbiting around that ever luminous yet wistful melodic halo that surrounds their music, this second full-length effort sweeps an extra-wide and languidly woven palette of emotions and moods, making for a uniquely ambitious and generously coloured mosaic of sound. If the recording sessions "often started grumpy and emotionless" by Harm and Merijn's own admission, the pair was "surprised by the joy it gave us, which can be compared to the emotions we felt back in the first days of making music together"; subsequently reconnecting with that fresh, naïve feeling of "absolute creative freedom" they were after. The album is also the fruit of a whole new working process for them - more playful and unpredictable - which saw them switch from "guitars lying around to piano, onto our own synths and the most cheap quirky toys synths you can imagine", and involved "recording all of our own samples, voice and almost every instrument out of the box - which for us was a totally new way of working". "We've always wanted a narrative for the album, and finding the right order perhaps took the most effort" they explain; "we felt anxious, felt insanely positive, felt heartbroken again, felt in love again, and there was death, and even suicide around us. It was quite chaotic. As a whole, 'The Weight' breathes with that transformative richness, free of limits and rules, except perhaps to "do quick and not think too much". Amidst this collection of songs and instrumentals that live by Weval's singularly positive take on music - one that can "lift you up, and make you feel hopeful without being necessarily straight out 'happy'" as they define it, the title-track and lead single stays true to the duo's dynamic approach, putting on a fine balance of floor and dream inducing adaptability that sound engineer David Wrench (Frank Ocean, The XX, FKA Twigs, Caribou… etc.) subtly made palpable. There's heavy showers of funk drops pouring from endless bars of thunderstorm clouds and laid-back riffs beating a restrained poolside-party kind of pulse, but also sensual vocals rising from beneath the sheets and rueful polaroid-filtered ambiences to soundtrack all possible moments in life - from the most euphoric to those when music seems the only viable healing potion. More on the post-KLF, BoC-inflected electronica side of things, 'Are You Even Real' takes its listener for a round-trip across the star-studded dome and beyond, before songs like 'Someday' and 'Same Little Thing' head back down to a state of pulsating, earthly organicity, tense and mercurial as get. An arpeggiated slice of piano-strewn kosmische, 'Heaven' is another invitation to an epic-scale odyssey from the inner-spheres into the distant fringes of the outer-world. Weightless and airy, yet texturally dense and widely magnetic overall, Weval second LP is a synthesis of the duo's multi-angle take on electronics: blissed-out, heartening and infinitely free.
Nur zweieinhalb Jahre nach der Veröffentlichung ihres selbstbetitelten Debutalbums finden sich WEVAL zurück "an jenem Ort, an dem sich alles spontan, neu und aufregend anfühlt - so wie als wir anfingen zusammen Musik zu schreiben". An diesem Ort entstand "The Weight", ihr zweiter Longplayer, auf dem Weval sich ganz den Pop-verliebten, Nostalgie-freundlichen Facetten ihres Sounds öffnen. Stetig um den sehnsuchtsvollen Strahlenkranz ihrer Melodien tanzend, legt diese Platte noch vielschichtigere, mit feinster Präzision gewobene Gefühlswelten frei.

Obwohl die Aufnahmesessions nach eigenem Bekunden oftmals "miesepetrig und emotionsarm" begannen, so war das Duo überrascht darüber, wie schnell sich bei der Arbeit jene Freude einstellte, die sie aus ihren künstlerischen Anfangstagen kannten, eine Woge des frischen, naiven Gefühls der "absoluten kreativen Freiheit". Dieses Album ist die Frucht eines verspielteren und unvorhersehbareren Arbeitsprozesses innerhalb der Band, in welchem alles zum Einsatz kam, was ihnen in die Finger kam - von der ollen Gitarre, die in der Studioecke stand, über ein Piano und den bandeigenen Sythesizern und den sonderbarsten Spielzeuginstrumenten, die man sich vorstellen kann. All dies sowie zahlreiche Vocalaufnahmen dienten als alleinige Samplequelle - "was für uns eine völlig neue Arbeitsweise war". "Es war uns wichtig für das Album den perfekten Erzählbogen zu spannen. Die richtige Reihenfolge zu finden war ein extrem aufwendiger Vorgang", erklären Harm und Merjin. "Uns war bange, wir fühlten uns total selbstsicher, uns zerbrach das Herz und wir verliebten uns erneut. Wir waren sogar von Tod und Selbstmord umgeben. Alles war Chaos. Insgesamt atmet "The Weight" die Reichhaltigkeit dieser sich ständig verändernden Gefühlslagen, frei von Einschränkungen und Regeln - außer vielleicht "mach es schnell und zerdenke die Dinge nicht." Inmitten dieser Ansammlung von Songs und Instrumentals, die aus Wevals einzigartiger, von Zuversicht geprägter Herangehensweise entstanden sind - "Musik, die dich hochzieht und Hoffnung spendet, ohne dich notwendigerweise happy zu machen. Der Titeltrack "The Weight" steht exemplarisch für Wevals ambivalenten Ansatz, die feine Balance zwischen Dancefloor und Traumzuständen, perfekt in Szene gesetzt von Soundengineer David Wrench (Frank Ocean, The XX, FKA Twigs, Caribou… etc.).

Der schwer aus gewaltigen Gewitterwolken tropfende Funk, die eine verhaltene Poolparty suggerierenden Riffs, die sinnlichen, geisterhaften Vocals und ein verwaschenes Ambiente, das wie ein Album alter Polaroidaufnahmen alle erdenklichen Momente des Lebens festhält - von den euphorischsten bis hin zu jenen, in denen Musik der einzige Trank ist, der Linderung verheißt. Das post-KLF und Boards of Canada evozierende "Are You Even Real" führt den Hörer auf einen imaginären Flug ins Sternenzelt, während organisch-klingende Songs wie "Someday" oder "Same Little Thing" wie Quecksilber am Boden haften. "Heaven" ist eines jener "kosmische" Stücke mit wilden Arpeggios und Pianosprengseln, die Weval in den vergangenen zwei Jahren zu einer Live-Sensation werden liessen. Wevals Musik ist schwerelos und luftig, aber gleichermassen von dichter Struktur und von einer magnetischen Anziehungskraft. Ihr zweites Album "The Weight" ist eine Synthese aus dem multi-perspektivischem, kaleidoskopischen Verständnis von elektronischer Musik: Herzerwärmend, alles umschmeichelnd und unendlich frei.

Repress!

The release of Crosstown Rebels’ SPIRITS compilation is always a bastion moment for the label. The first edition came to prominence in 2017 and we’ve been graced with an annual compilation ever since, showcasing a consistent habit to champion established artists and breakthrough ones alike. Now, Crosstown Rebels’ lauded SPIRITS series will see the light of day once more in June, with the release of SPIRITS V.

NYC-native Layla Benitez leads proceedings with Fides, a progressive-leaning, introspective number that retains an inherent danceability throughout. It kicks off the compilation with a driving energy, one that’s perfectly matched by Trabajar - the Crosstown Rebels debut of recent Hot Creations inductee Mr.Diamond.

A techy-inspired cut, punchy four-four drum patterns create a distinctive late-night feel, as UK-talent Denney soon arrives with Kill The Soundboy. Showcasing the groove-laced house sound with which he’s become best known, the near seven-minute piece is sure to light up many a club setting this year, paving the way for Talk To Me. It’s a collaborative venture between Munich-based artist ASK:ME and El Muerto, with Soulfoot featuring on vocals. Retaining a vintage Detroit style, the fast-paced tempo creates a natural excitement before Romanian-born mainstay GruuvElement’s gifts us the minimal-toned Boom Room.

Building with tribal-like percussion and salsa-inspired instrumentals, it’s a playful excursion into dance music’s outer realms, paving the way for young Peruvian producer Chinonegro with My Moment. Whether it be the pluck of a guitar string or a jazzy trumpet solo, there’s an inherent authenticity to the six-minute piece, as a mid-track breakdown gives way to whispering hats and a rhythmic underlying backbone.

The penultimate offering comes from French-born, London-based regular Maglia, who serves up the enchanting Rayiys. The chirping of birds resides atop an ever-changing bassline, leaving us open and ready for the VA’s closing saga: Thanks Moon, by Spain’s I AM JAS. A heady combination of beautiful lyrical contributions combines with softly moving electronic elements, to leave us in a state of calm, inward reflection. Rounding off proceedings on a note of quietude, it reminds us of the final moments in clubland, transporting our psyche to sunrise, fond memories and everything in between.

Over a period of nineteen years, Damian Lazarus’ Crosstown Rebels has evolved into a world-renowned institution, garnering global audiences thanks to a consistent schedule of quality releases. In years since it’s earliest beginnings, the likes of Maceo Plex, Art Department, Seth Troxler, Ali Love, Mathew Jonson, Pier Bucci, Acid Pauli, Dennis Kurtel, Francesca Lombardo, Glimpse, Aphrohead, Fur Coat and a plethora of other figureheads have all found their home on the label.

The roster is international, showcasing how Crosstown has shaped a truly global scene. Releases are born in different continents by artists who hail from different countries, resulting in a sound that resonates worldwide. Perhaps most pivotal to the label’s success is its musical output: no part is governed by boundary or genre. It’s underpinned by a truly eclectic sound, one that reflects the diversity of Damian’s love for music itself. An album from drum and bass icon DJ Krust here, a maiden LP from Audiojack there… traversing genres has been Damian’s forte for decades - and Crosstown epitomises that as a result.

Glasgow based Seated Records return with more 1980s Scottish Post-Punk / New Wave material. In this 8-track mini compilation the label introduces the work of Stirling band 22 Beaches, offering a deep dive into music recorded between 1980-1984 - the majority of which has never seen the light of day!

22 Beaches formed in Stirling in the late 1970s as an evolution of the short lived group ‘Alone at Last’ - drummer Fred Parson’s and guitarist Stephen Hunter being the two who spanned the divide. Out of the six members of 22 Beaches, many were school friends, and the rest naturally fell together. The band toured extensively and played at a truly diverse set of venues across the UK: from a local swimming pool boiler room, to small nightclubs and university parties, to several fundraisers for the miners strike. Maybe most notably of all, drummer Fred Parsons described playing at what he calls “the Grangemouth International”, organised by local promoter Brian Guthrie and which featured an all-star lineup of 22 Beaches, The Exploited and the first incarnation of The Cocteau Twins. A coach was hired to ship the audience to Grangemouth from Stirling, the cost of which was included in the ticket. The gig then paused halfway through for a 'help yourself' buffet. Young promoters take heed. This is how it's done!

Over the course of the 80s the band released music on three different, and now sought after, various artists compilation cassettes. “What Day Is It?” and “Sadie When She Died” were released on a compilation of local Stirling artists 'The A.N.K.L.E File'. The track from which the current record takes its namesake - “Dust” - was initially released on a compilation-tape for the fanzine 'Another Spark'. And ‘‘Zoo” (also featured on this record) was first released on Glasgow label Pleasantly Surprised via compilation, 'An Hour Of Eloquent Sounds', where 22 Beaches rubbed shoulders with early music from Scottish names Primal Scream, Cocteau Twins, The Wake and Sunset Gun. Unfortunately, 22 Beaches never met the same level of commercial success as these others and decided to retire the project in 1984 - leaving their recordings and demos to gather dust (hehe)…until now!

This compilation, “Dust: recordings 1980-1984” follows the band's journey and the changes in their sound over the years. It moves from the raw, punk energy of early DIY recordings through to the A Certain Ratio style Balearica of their later pieces. The record's opener and title track “Dust” is perhaps the most shining example of the latter. Characterised by the plenitude of sonic space in the mix, “Dust” has an almost dub sensibility that is communicated through centrality of Parsons’ drums, McChord’s percussion, and Fildes’ Bass while the harmonising vocals of Sharkey and McGregor chant over the top to give the track its distinctive psychedelic edge. This is an atmosphere only exacerbated by the lofi quality of the recording which sits the vocals in the same aural realm as much 1960s psych-folk. On “Cartoon Boy”, the band strips things down further. A droning bass line persists through the tape fuzz and is accompanied by the sounds of a sole looping guitar chord sequence and McGregor and Sharkey’s vocals - respectively and carefully dancing around one another before harmonising in the most beautiful way. The result is a haunting and abstract Marine Girls style heartbreaker. ‘That Girl’ again delivers a dub adjacent rhythm section similar to that of “Dust”. However, on this instance crisp guitar chords, a distant, phased organ and blue-eyed soul vocal delivery, produce a track that could easily have been a lost Orange Juice recording from their sessions with Dennis Bovel. On “Somebody Got It Wrong” and “One Of Us” the band employ a more macro approach where a jangling guitar with an almost highlife-influenced tone, vocal ad-libs and syncopated percussion give the music a Talking Heads-esque swagger.

Taken together these tracks illustrate a clear trajectory in the band's sound, moving from from the high energy no-wave quality of early recordings towards a more dub influenced, and stripped-back sound - a sonic trajectory followed by so many bands of the time, not least those emerging from the diaspora of Manchester’s Factory Records.

On “Breathing’’ we hear the beginning of this transition, with the strong influence of the oddball NYC disco styles of Was (Not Was) and ZE records. All of this is meshed together with the residual punk rock energy of 1980s UK. This combination is employed to excellent effect with the addition of the distinctly Scottish (and what the band confirmed to me to be spontaneous) vocal delivery of: “Do you love me? Do you want me?” “Aye!” “Do you love me? Do you need me?” “Naw!”.

On the record’s closing tracks, “Zoo” and “Talent Show”, we hear early examples of the band’s work, playing with their rawest all-in-one-take live energy where Hunter’s spiralling guitar riffs and McGregor's distorted vocal exclamations lead the charge. The band recalls that these initial-forays did not always translate so well into multitrack recording and overdubbing: “the deconstruction took away some of the band's natural feel”. On “Talent Show” the record ends with Sharkey delivering an almost unintelligible spoken word section over the top of the track, making for one final, disorientating, almost manic slice of post-punk.

These tracks from 1980-1984 chart the progress of a unique contribution to the world of Scottish Post-Punk and New Wave, encapsulating not only the musical trajectory of 22 Beaches but also echoing the broader sonic landscape of 1980s UK, a testament to the adaptability and creativity of the UK’s underground music of the time.

Commissioned and curated by Flora Yin Wong for her label and publishing house Doyenne, ‘Venus Rising From The Sea’ is a collection of love-themed cover versions featuring Teresa Winter, Susu Laroche, Alex Zhang Hungtai, aya, Maria Minerva, Christina Vantzou, Spivak, Salamanda, clare rousay, Wild Terrier Orchestra, Dania and Flora Yin Wong herself covering songs by The Cure, Robert Wyatt, Mariah Carey, The Cranberries, Pentangle, The Carter Family, Spiritualized, Debussy and more.

‘Venus Rising From The Sea’ takes its cues from the classical deity Aphrodite - whose name literally means “sea foam” - for an ever necessary expression of love in the modern age. The label asked friends and collaborators to interpret “love” in whichever way they saw fit, be it obsession, self-love, unrequited, unconditional, whatever. But despite the open brief, and the vastly different modes of execution, all the artists involved somehow ended up linking hands with a shared determination to smudge the original songs into bleary-eyed, uncanny traces of the originals.

To open, Pentangle's jaunty 'No Love is Sorrow' is puffed into stormy clouds by Teresa Winter, who retains the original’s unmistakable bass twang and teases Jacqui McShee's siren song into a saturated buzz of layered, obfuscated words. Verses twist into verses, lines into echoed-out lines, capturing the song’s boundless yearning, rather than tracing its exact contours. Next, Susu Laroche yields one of the set’s highlights on a brilliantly nuanced, highly impactful version of Nina Simone’s take on folk standard ‘Black is the Colour of My True Love’s Hair’, turning the original’s multi-faceted Appalachian/Scottish routes into a heart-stopping, Nico-esque fuzz we haven’t stopped playing for weeks. Christina Vantzou (the CV ov CV & JAB) is joined by pianist Ezra Fieremans in the absorbingly filmic scenes of ‘Hot Springs’, while Maria Spivak's interpretation of Robert Wyatt's 'Just as You Are' finds her singing Brazilian vocalist Mônica Vasconcelos' words with reverence, smearing them into a hypnagogic fantasy.

Flora Yin Wong takes an inconspicuous approach on her love-letter to Mariah Carey's 'The Roof (Back in Time)', itself a melodramatic interpolation of Mobb Deep's Herbie Hancock-sampling 'Shook Ones, Part II'. The unmistakable piano line is frayed into a granulated gurgle, fleshed out by gauzy cries; Mariah's ecstatic diva logic haunts the edges like a furtive glance, hanging beautifully behind Wong's dense soundscapes. Alex Zhang Hungtai's take on the 1927 standard 'Me and My Shadow' is even more atomised, reduced to a disembodied vocal that oozes around a clattering woodblock.

Always a standout, aya's tribute to The Cure's 'Lovesong' infuses the 1989 classic with the same self-investigatory charm she exhibited on 'im hole', slowing it down to a giddy, infatuated lurch, and replacing the guitars with eerily-tuned oscillations and drums with hollowed-out, electrically charged thuds. "I will always love you," she moans through a wall of static, like some lost “Pop Artificielle” addendum. The album’s biggest surprise is saved for last, however, a cover of The Cranberries' 'No Need To Argue' from Paralaxe Editions boss Dania Shihab. Already a poignant memory of a faded romance, Dania's version is even more glacial, her tender voice gusting over inverted guitars and looping, wordless moans, guiding us ever so gracefully into the nether-world.

‘Venus Rising From The Sea’ is a gooey, emotionally raw set of recollections and affirmations from some of the scene's most open-hearted operatives. In the end, the love that's most evident is the love each of the artists has for their source material, somehow binding loose threads into a rich tapestry that will leave you gasping, perhaps a little tearful too.