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The Equatoguinean Norberto de Nöah established in Madrid in the early 80s, where he became a firebrand of African culture in the vibrant Movida. In 1988 he self-released his first solo album, a blend of homeland sounds —modern and traditional— with new synth and drum machine touches. The vanished album finally gets its well-deserved reissue.

Edition of 500 albums on vinyl (Bandcamp download code included) - Original artwork with new 14 pages insert and poster

In the mid-1980s, the European media, music industry and public became increasingly interested in African music. This was a period of international success for King Sunny Adé, Salif Keita, Youssou N’Dour, Ray Lema, Touré Kunda, etc. Spain, with its own particular conditions, wasn’t oblivious to the phenomenon and the Equatoguinean Norberto de Nöah may be its best exponent.

Norberto moved in the early eighties from his hometown in the island Fernando Po (now known as Bioko) to its former colonial capital, Madrid. While studying dramatic arts, he created and led the band Nohkis, made up of African and Spanish musicians. In 1985 they released the maxi-single “Mujer española” / “África, ¿dónde está tu gloria?”, and the song “El loco”, was released on a compilation LP called Esto es increíble, both on the label Lollipop. According to the journalist Patricia Godes, they were first artists to record an African music record in Spain. It received positive reviews and a great impact on the most independent side of Madrid’s La Movida movement. Very soon afterwards, Nohkis’ band split up.

Afterwards, Norberto would concentrate on his solo career, and Norberto de Nöah and The Böhöbé Spirits Müsic was released in 1988, definitely a solo album. Norberto created his own label, Kilimandjaro Productions, and composed, arranged and produced all the songs of the LP. Moreover, he sang and played all the instruments: a vast selection of organic instruments, a Yamaha RX-5 drum machine and a Roland D-50 synthesizer.

In the album he exposed his deepest roots, updating the lexicon of traditional Bubi music, the musician’s ethnic group, a compendium of ceremonial melodies that ancient troubadours composed for the court. Doing so he showed new possibilities to one of the oldest ethnic groups in the world. Besides all this, he was also inspired by American music such as funk, R&B, Latin American music and also by a wide range of African and Caribbean rhythms.

Mixing the traditional and the avant-garde in a spontaneous and natural way, the music contained in the record’s grooves flows freely and takes you to places full of magic and mystery, while still transmitting new and exciting sensations. Even more, according to the Equatoguinean musician and writer Baron Ya Búk-Lu based in Madrid, the album’s sound was “the perfect combination of all characteristics that defined the Equatoguinean Afropop music made in Madrid during the 1980s”, a story that still needs to be told in all its depth and intensity!

Following the release of two LPs and several singles, the activity of Norberto de Nöah and Kilimandjaro Productions (and the subsequent Bananas Podridas) ceased. Nevertheless, Norberto’s links to music continued, as a promoter and DJ in Madrid’s nightlife.

Norberto de Nöah contributed greatly to changing Spain’s musical landscape, breaking barriers and mental frameworks. He was the first to make contemporary and popular Guinean music known to the Spanish public.

The repercussions in the African market of a Spanish (and Bube) speaking African musical project, where English and French dominate, was very difficult. In addition, the passage of time and changes in phonographic formats have diluted the memory of Norberto's legacy. Now it’s time to reverse the situation and break all the outdated frontiers!

Norberto de Nöah and The Böhöbé Spirits Müsic, as every important music piece, was at the same time part of a universal phenomenon of recognition of African music and a very personal project, based on the artist’s nostalgic and heartfelt need to show and homage his ethnic group, the Bubis. In this process he also refreshed his hometown music legacy, giving it a new air and opening the door to lots of other great Equatoguinean artists coming afterwards, as well as being an inspiration for many musicians in Spain.

Developing on the trance-induction and brainwave entrainment techniques explored on the first Ethernet album 144 Pulsations of Light, Opus 2 moves into deeper, more introspective and emotive territory. A stronger focus on melody and harmonic structure results in pieces that almost approach, but never quite arrive at, traditional song forms, while still leaving much to the imagination of the listener, evading mental categorization and revealing new sonic experiences with each listen.

The bulk of recording took place during the darkest months of winter in the Pacific Northwest, between late-night shifts providing technical support for hospital operating rooms. The pieces on the album each formed gradually and spontaneously during extended improvised sonic meditations as part of the composer’s own trancework (or self-hypnosis) practice, this in an effort to remove specific compositional intention from the process, instead just allowing them to “happen".

If 144 Pulsations… was about expansion of awareness and opening to the light that surrounds us, Opus 2 is intended to induce inner contemplation and internalized focus on the light within us. It is also a statement on the gradual darkening and inexorable decay of our modern world, and the need to look within to find true support and sustenance from one’s own energetic source. Patience and perseverance.

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

Tape

On Repetitions, New York-based Swiss artist and composer Samuel Reinhard brings us close enough to a piece of music that its systematic nature begins to buckle and fade. Across four movements, three pianos pursue their own respective threadbare motifs, which overlap at the hands of a predetermined ratio of duration. What unfolds—at first glance slow, melancholic, deliberate, even plain—is a study of repetition’s in-betweens, populated by unexpected resonances and delicate traces of notes in the process of being played by human hands. The three pianos are not in sync, but are nevertheless in relation, the nature of which shifts with the listener’s orientation and attention. Each piece within Repetitions arrives as a constant whole, containing harmonies and silences that are in a never-ending process of unfurling.

Repetitions is a joint release from Hallow Ground and Präsens Editionen and follows offerings by Kali Malone, Lawrence English, and FUJI | | | | | | | | | | TA on Hallow Ground, and Robert Turman, Magda Drozd, and Anna Homler on Präsens Editionen.

* Edition of 100 professionally dubbed cassette tapes
* special artwork by artist Jeff Rossi, graphic desing by Coline Houot

An extremely prolific artist, whose work encompasses composition, opera, theatre, radio plays, film or performance, Ergo Phizmiz returns in due time to the Discrepant fold long after his 'Two Quartets' and 'Disco Carousel' - under his given DW Robertson name - albums. A purveyor of the Creative Commons rights, Phizmiz has been deploying much of his work on the ever expanding Free Music Archive directed by WFMU since the early 2000's, creating a sprawling and defiant body of work that defies given and stale notions of sound hierarchies, history and copyright through a process that comprises collage, sampling, reappropriation, songwriting, covers and pretty much any available media with a playful and thoughtful approach.
For this new Discrepant entry, Phizmiz goes back in time to push into the future a number of pieces recorded more than two decades ago creating this perpetual motion outside a linear chronologic progression. Anticipating by almost 20 years the memefication of ASMR videos, 'Selected Ambient & ASMR Works 2001-2003' - itself a pun on the AFX classics - embraces the ambient tag not at its functional face value, but instead as a means to the "evocation of imaginary spaces, and correspondingly the invention of their sonic environments". Collecting recordings from a myriad of instruments - violin, xylophone, banjo, kora, found percussion and so on...-, shortwave radio and field recordings to create loops with different lengths that play with and/or against themselves continuously in a process "(dis)conjunction" not far removed from Feldman's 'Why Patterns?' or hip-hop's sampledelia. A free-floating temporal space that collapses the flashing images of Angelfire pages unto Web 2.0 sense of displacement.

Continuing our quest to get all of the classic early AMT albums released on vinyl, we turn to 2006’s ‘Starless And Bible Black Sabbath’, and with the help of Makoto Kawabata’s studio wizardry, we’ve made it possible.

This latest instalment in the ‘Acid Mothers Temple Vinyl Archives - First Time On Vinyl’ series (as with the three previous SOLD OUT releases in the series) have all been meticulously put together with the help of Makoto Kawabata with the original CD artwork recreated for these vinyl editions from archive photos stored in the vaults at the Acid Mothers Temple in Osaka, Japan and the original audio remastered by James Plotkin.

Here’s what "Brainwashed" had to say upon it’s original CD only release back in 2006 …

“The title track is the meat of the beast, beginning with a minute of booms and gongs reminiscent of a thunderstorm before launching into some slow, heavy Sabbath-esque riffs. Squealing guitar and synth effects accompany the vocals of bassist Tabata Mitsuru, whose voice captures some of the sound and feeling of Ozzy's more than it does the melody. The pace is slower than most AMT fare, but things speed up considerably around the eight and a half minute mark. The group convincingly imitates the Sabbath guitar sound here and the rhythm section is particularly tight, giving listeners something on which to hang their ears or even providing them with a chance to gasp for air during Makoto's guitar explorations. Around the sixteen minute mark, everything comes to a wailing halt before the band returns to the dirge-like tempo that started the song. This pattern continues for the duration of the piece, until a couple of minutes before the ending, when the group makes a smooth transition to acoustic guitar and processed vocals to cool down.

Clocking in at nearly thirty-five minutes, the length alone may tax some listeners. However, the second track, "Woman From A Hell, "provides relief, which with a running time of six minutes is uncommon in the Acid Mothers canon for its brevity. This one condenses many of the ideas of the title track, and accomplishes much of the same evocation of Sabbath, but with the vocals in a more prominent role. The disc comes full circle, ending with thunderstorm sounds much like theones which started the album. Though the title track could have been shortened and perhaps an additional track included, this album remain some of the group's more accessible releases in some time and should please fans old and new alike.

According to the group's website, Makoto is reviving the Melting Paraiso U.F.O. line-up after a year of recording and touring with the Cosmic Inferno. This is a shame of sorts, since the Cosmic Inferno infused a much-needed vitality to the group that it had lacked since the departure of vocalist Cotton Casino. Yet the reformed Melting Paraiso U.F.O. has the potential to be even better since, if anything, Makoto seems to be the Mother of Reinvention.”

Acid Mothers Temple & The Cosmic Inferno are: Tabata Mitsuru - Bass, Vocal, Maratab - Hiroshi Higashi - Synthesizer, Dancin' King - Shimura Koji - Drums, Latino Cool - Okano Futoshi - Drums, God Speed - Makoto Kawabata - Guitars, Speed Guru

Hailing from the West side of St. Louis, Missouri, Mikahl Anthony’s sonic roots spread far across the global Alt-Soul / Hip-Hop scene. A highly soughtafter multidisciplinary artist (who has collaborated with the likes of Mick Jenkins, Chance The Rapper, Joey Purp, Smino and more), as well as being a founding member of Chicago’s THEMpeople collective, he now prepares to unveil his masterful full-length debut Muse via R&S Records.

Accompanied by several beautiful, self-directed film pieces, Muse is a record with storytelling at its core. Interspersed with commentary from a range of sources telling their stories to Mikhal, whilst collaboratively analysing their personal experiences, it speaks a candid and honest narrative, which reinforce the heartfelt lyrics within. With the project’s name anchored around a dual meaning acronym (1. Ms. Using sensual energy and 2. Making use of seclusion every day). The record is an audio version of docufilm, that creatively interprets the idea of self-therapy, an internal/interpersonal reflection of life experiences that serendipitously connect to Mikahl’s personal romantic relationships. Mikahl explains: ‘I wanted to use a unique style of songwriting, arrangement and filming with the intention of soundtracking my self-development/maturation process’.

On the project’s lasting impression on the listener, Mikahl elaborates ’The exploration of inner truth and vulnerability is key to the future of good music. I want this project to act as symbolism that highlights the mantra that honest approaches and authenticity still has the most value. I also want people to see how important the use of community is when you can connect them to your subject matter...I'd like my audience to observe and engage in their own self-reflections, approaches by way of listening or interacting with the story.’

Drifting to an elevated state of consciousness, Muse is a deeply intoxicating and engrossing listening experience from front to back. From the sliding, kaleidoscopic shadows of opening track ‘La Flare’, via the trepidation-laced atmosphere of ‘Polyamorous’ and the hazy, reverb drenched saxophone notes of LP closer ‘Eddie Kane’ - Mikahl channels moments of joy and pain, infused with spirit enriching instrumentation and gritty textures.

Visual stimuli play an integral role within Mikahl’s music. His songs represent transparency and openness dipped in funk. Layers of soft velvety vocals emerge from jazz harmonies, trap rhythms, and social commentary sourced from voiceovers/excerpts. His creations are the musical representation of documentary films. His art is imagery embodied.

elbow return with their seventh studio album on 3rd February 2017. 'Little Fictions' was recorded in Scotland and Manchester and sees the band collaborate with the string players of The Hallé Orchestra, the Hallé Ancoats Community Choir, members of London Contemporary Voices and session drummer Alex Reeves. As with the previous three elbow albums it was produced by Craig Potter.
'Little Fictions' is emphatically a band album. Having written individually for its chart-topping predecessor, 'The Take Off and Landing of Everything', sessions this time were collective affairs, with all four members gathered initially in a house in Scotland before moving to Guy's attic in Prestwich and finalising recordings in the familiar setting of Blueprint studios, Salford.
'Little Fictions' is an upbeat album. All the band talk of the sessions being 'joyful', Mark summarises it as 'the sound of four people who love what they do and each other', of an album that came into being naturally and, at times even unconsciously. Lead single 'Magnificent (She Says)' was embraced for the joyous, thrilling piece of music it is, positive and outward looking. Mark never even considered his audible switch towards electric guitars, most notable on the psychedelic lushness of 'All Disco', until the very end of the process.
The departure of drummer Richard Jupp prior to commencing the writing and recording process in earnest saw early sessions characterised by new approaches to rhythm, with the band utilising percussive noises, sampling and loops to build tracks. The grooves that run through much of the album, from the go-go beats of 'Gentle Storm' through the jagged trip hop of 'Kindling' to the soulful 'Firebrand & Angel' represent both the band's widest musical palette and a newfound sense of experimentation borne from both necessity and desire. That desire fuelled the title track, an eight minute piece that is epic without at any point feeling excessive. As a shorthand for the album it is perfect, crossing musical genres and experimenting with sound in ways that demonstrate the confidence and enthusiasm of the band throughout the recording process.
'Little Fictions' is, therefore, more than just yet another brilliant elbow album. In many ways it marks the start of a new chapter for the band, characterised by a rediscovery of shared purpose in doing the thing that has always brought them together, the place that Mark describes as 'the creative space where we all meet'.

Woven together from home studio recordings that span two decades, and with some notable guest appearances including; The Bug, Douglas Leal of Deafkids, Wayne Adams of Petbrick, Dave French of Yob and Sanford Parker, this final part of the Harvestman Triptych seeks once again for a lost world, with the voice of poet Ezra Pound extolling the virtues of "gathering from the air a live tradition".
Cloudy Clear plus Black Galaxy effect vinyl in dub style jacket. Limited and Non-Returnable.
At its heart, music has always been a questioning of inheritance – a dialogue with predecessors and forebears, the forging of one’s own perspective in relation to what has come before, and for some, a plunge into the boundless realms between. For Steve Von Till, that process has always taken on an added dimension to become the most sacred of tasks. Whether through the apocalyptic uprising of Neurosis, the sonic deconstructions of their sister project, Tribes of Neurot, the invocatory intimacy of his eponymous solo albums or his instrumental psychedelic reveries in the guise of Harvestman, that dialogue has never just been with musical influences, but with what underpins them: the primordial, elemental forces now banished to the peripheries of our contemporary consciousness, yet still broadcasting a signal for all who will listen.

Drawn to the megaliths, ruins and ancient sites mapped out along the British and European mainland’s geographical and psychic landscapes, the folklore and apocrypha forever resurfacing as portals from a rational world, Triptych is a meditation forged from traces and residues, and an hallucinatory recollection of artists who have tapped into that enduring otherworldliness embedded within us all. It’s a dream diary narrating a passage through Summer Isle where Flying Saucer Attack are wafting out of a window, a distant Fairport Convention are being remixed by dub master Adrian Sherwood, celestial scanners Tangerine Dream are trying to drown out Bert Jansch and Hawkwind are playing Steeleye Span covers, all prised out of time yet bound to its singularity.

"Herne's Oak" provides seismic bass waves that physically halt the track in its steps - giant footfalls as Herne's antlers themselves are dragged along a corridor. Another curious and mysterious piece of British folklore brought to life by Harvestman.

If Triptych is a multi- and extra-sensory experience, it extends to the remarkable glyph-style artwork of Henry Hablak, a map of correspondences from a long-forgotten ancient and advanced civilization. As with Triptych itself, it’s an echo from another time, an act of binding, a guide to be endlessly reinterpreted, and a signpost to the sacred that might not indicate where to look, but how.

Cover art is by Henry Hablak, who also designed the art for Part One and Part Two.

Robin Carolan's latest soundtrack for Robert Eggers' highly anticipated Nosferatu is a haunting, gothic-infused and meticulously crafted work that draws from a vast palette of sounds, instruments, and inspirations. Following their successful collaboration on The Northman, Carolan reunites with Eggers to bring the legendary tale of Nosferatu to life, infusing the film with a score that is as complex and nuanced as the story itself. With Daniel Pioro, one of Britain's most exciting young classical musicians, at the helm as the orchestra leader and first chair for a vast majority of the recording, the soundtrack features a vast orchestration, including 60 string players, a full choir, various horns and woodwinds, a harpist, and two percussionists. Despite the grandeur of the orchestration, one of the most challenging pieces was the music box used at the film's beginning. Carolan and Eggers struggled to perfect its sound, a process marked by their meticulous attention to detail, which Carolan describes as almost telepathic. Set in the 1800s, Nosferatu allowed Carolan to incorporate contemporary instrumentation, though he made a deliberate effort to ensure the score didn't sound overly modern. Letty Stott, who also worked on The Northman, contributed ancient horns and pipes, enhancing the soundtrack's eerie atmosphere. Additionally, percussionist Paul Clarvis custom-built a toaca-like instrument for added authenticity. Carolan's inspirations for the soundtrack were as eclectic as they were profound. He frequently drew upon the works of Bartok and Coil, while films like The Innocents, Angels and Insects, and Eyes Wide Shut provided cinematic inspiration. Additionally, he explored the more obscure side of Hammer Horror soundtracks and found a deep connection to the music of the Ukrainian film The Eve of Ivan Kupalo, which helped shape the score's otherworldly tone. Carolan intentionally moved beyond the typical horror score, focusing on capturing the tale's melancholy and tragic elements while weaving in a sense of warped romanticism. The result is a soundtrack that not only complements the film but also stands on its own as a testament to Carolan's artistry and the enduring power of collaboration.

Robin Carolan's latest soundtrack for Robert Eggers' highly anticipated Nosferatu is a haunting, gothic-infused and meticulously crafted work that draws from a vast palette of sounds, instruments, and inspirations. Following their successful collaboration on The Northman, Carolan reunites with Eggers to bring the legendary tale of Nosferatu to life, infusing the film with a score that is as complex and nuanced as the story itself. With Daniel Pioro, one of Britain's most exciting young classical musicians, at the helm as the orchestra leader and first chair for a vast majority of the recording, the soundtrack features a vast orchestration, including 60 string players, a full choir, various horns and woodwinds, a harpist, and two percussionists. Despite the grandeur of the orchestration, one of the most challenging pieces was the music box used at the film's beginning. Carolan and Eggers struggled to perfect its sound, a process marked by their meticulous attention to detail, which Carolan describes as almost telepathic. Set in the 1800s, Nosferatu allowed Carolan to incorporate contemporary instrumentation, though he made a deliberate effort to ensure the score didn't sound overly modern. Letty Stott, who also worked on The Northman, contributed ancient horns and pipes, enhancing the soundtrack's eerie atmosphere. Additionally, percussionist Paul Clarvis custom-built a toaca-like instrument for added authenticity. Carolan's inspirations for the soundtrack were as eclectic as they were profound. He frequently drew upon the works of Bartok and Coil, while films like The Innocents, Angels and Insects, and Eyes Wide Shut provided cinematic inspiration. Additionally, he explored the more obscure side of Hammer Horror soundtracks and found a deep connection to the music of the Ukrainian film The Eve of Ivan Kupalo, which helped shape the score's otherworldly tone. Carolan intentionally moved beyond the typical horror score, focusing on capturing the tale's melancholy and tragic elements while weaving in a sense of warped romanticism. The result is a soundtrack that not only complements the film but also stands on its own as a testament to Carolan's artistry and the enduring power of collaboration.

Recorded by McIlroy’s long-time friend and musical associate, Big A, the songs are laden with cracked harmonies and homemade instruments, including found materials used as percussion. The pair drew on the talents of fellow travellers for backing vocals and rhythm tracks which has resulted in the live outfit expanding to a three piece, with Ben Price (bass) and Charlie Garson (drums) on board.
Commenting on the writing process McIlroy explains:
“It was written during a period of madness and adverse offending behaviours. The songs dash from one theme to another and reflect the mistaken beliefs we cling to when our perceived realities are threatened. It’s also got jokes.”
Opposing a streaming culture that values top tracks and playlists, the record is intended to be heard in one sitting, with Side A showcasing more extroverted songs, in all their loudmouth braggadocio, and Side B being more introspective and honest.

The making of a maiden album can be a capricious process. One moment of outright musical flow paired with another period of sustained creative struggle are feats experienced by seasoned producers the world over. So when Miraclis was forced to hole away in his makeshift studio - in the midst of a global pandemic - the stage was set for something magical. Now it will see the light of day for the very first time.

Having released two singles on Secret Teachings to critical acclaim already this year, Chilean talent Miraclis will accomplish a milestone achievement in July with the release of his debut album: Origin Of Truth.

Difficult experiences were fundamental to the creation of such work, as were Miraclis’ inherent musical interests. He explains: “Origin Of Truth had its birth during the pandemic. I created it as a way of communicating to myself the sensations and feelings that were spinning around my head at the time. I've always been inspired by Bristol trip hop, as well as classical rock, and these genres definitely contributed to the making of these melancholic tracks. In a way I wanted to fuse all the musical influences that were part of my childhood, up until this point now, so this album really means a lot to me. It was my way of communicating, when there was a lack of social contact and communication itself was hard to come by.”

It's this meditative quality that initially drew Damian Lazarus to the project. “It’s a record that has its roots in electronic music, but it’s a very alternative, very deep, melancholic album. I find it both soothing and stirring at the same time, and that’s a quite interesting juxtaposition in that it feels edgy but delicious at the same time,” says Lazarus. “The fact that this was written in this place surrounded by the most incredible desert landscapes makes this a very important piece of work to me. It doesn’t sit in any particular genre, which is why it feels right for a Secret Teachings release. It hints at so many genres that I as a DJ am quite into, and it feels like a first as it’s unique and unclassifiable. That mystical, esoteric, edgy feel makes this a perfect release for the label.”

Sonnet opens proceedings, with ghostly vocals residing next to raw instrumental elements throughout. Miraclis’ signature guitar riffs soon converge on saddened keys, paving the way for Scienter. It takes the form of an instrument-based, electronic-inspired cut, building slowly before reaching a crescendo midway through via an enrapturing acoustic solo.

Floating Child comes next, brimming with a darker intensity courtesy of broody synth pulses and rhythmic hi-hats, as Shiver arrives next. There’s a rock-leaning sensibility to the piece that gives way to earnest lyrical offerings, opening swiftly into the breakbeat-esque world of Perceptions. Hard-hitting drums act as the focal point, with electric chords adding depth and intrigue, whilst Bright continues in a similarly heartfelt vein.

Introspective pads leave us feeling pensive, ahead of Interstellar taking us on a celestial journey through warped bass tones. Acting as the LP’s penultimate number, it’s a four-and-a-half minute showcase of guitar-based musical goodness and one that perfectly sets the stage for Trapped, a closing saga of suitably emotive proportions.

Miraclis earned his stripes as a DJ under the name Max Clementi in his native Chile, as well as Spain after a stint at the Barcelona SAE Institute. Playing and writing music since his parents gave him his first guitar at age twelve, he found himself inspired by synth wave, electronic pop, trip hop, and psychedelic rock of the ‘80s and ‘90s, drenching himself in music by the likes of Massive Attack, Tricky, Depeche Mode, and Nine Inch Nails. However, it wasn’t until he had to move back to Pucón to take care of his father during the pandemic that he began working on what would become Origin Of Truth.

Serendipity seems to play a large part in Crosstown Rebels’ new label Secret Teachings. Just look at the story of how Damian met Miraclis in the first place. It involved a chance midnight encounter in Pucón, Chile at a woodland campfire after the DJ was locked out of his hotel room. This meeting of minds was the start of a remarkable friendship, where Miraclis invited Lazarus to stay at his house and break bread with his family. The two kept in touch, exchanging music and ideas as a result.

Marionette presents 'dessus oben alto up', the first collaborative recording by Andrea Belfi and Jules Reidy. Hailing from different ends of the globe (Australia and Italy) but both longtime residents of Berlin, Reidy and Belfi’s approaches have much in common, bringing together compositional precision and electroacoustic rigour with improvisation freedom, the immediate gratifications of rhythmic pulse, and an overtly lyrical sensibility. Working together during a residency at the sound studio of Berlin’s Callie’s, an arts institution housed in a 19th century machine factory, the pair (with Marco Anulli manning the desk) have conjured up four expansive pieces where the beautifully recorded percussive clarity of Belfi’s drums threads through a sparkling haze of guitars and electronics.

Opener ‘dessus’ begins with Reidy’s distinctive just-intoned guitar figures, shimmering over a delicate substratum of Befli’s brushwork and bass drum accents. As in all of Reidy’s recent work, the guitar is twisted out of cliché by the unfamiliar tuning and electronic processing. Hanging almost inaudibly in the background for much of the piece, a rush of synthetic tones surges into the foreground to end it. ‘oben’ is built from kinetic patterns of picked guitar arpeggios, locking into irregular grooves with Belfi’s drums, which move from elegant rolls and cymbal patter to driving closed hi-hats and explosive rock interjections. Around the traditional instruments and across the stereo field, electronic sounds swarm and swirl, fizzing and popping in a sun-drenched soundscape that at points suggests both vintage analogue synth destruction and glitching harmonies. ‘alto’ begins in similar territory but turned up a notch, eventually settling into a propulsive 6/8 groove of shifting drum accents, manically strummed 12 string acoustic, and burbling synth chords.

The B side is dedicated to the fifteen-minute ‘up’, where the strategies adopted on the other pieces are put in the service of a more relaxed, slowly unfolding epic. Anchored by a steady pulse throughout, the piece combines chiming guitars, dubbed-out bass lines and constantly adjusted percussive details into a complex flux of sound. Change is at once so subtle and so ever-present that, at any given moment, the listener can never be entirely sure quite how they got there.

“Music for Lovers” is the new solo outing of multi-instrumentalist Samuel Rohrer (playing a combination of percussion, modular synthesizer and keyboard-based instruments on this recording).
The album’s title, which has been used for other albums in unrelated musical genres, might be deceiving: those who expect overly sentimental, fluffy pieces full of levity from start to finish, or sarcastic and cynical attempts at rejecting such “easy” listening, will be surprised by the emotional and tonal complexity on display here. In Rohrer’s own words, it is dedicated to “those brave lovers, who are ready to not only find, but eventually become truth,” and as such is an exploration of an evolving process rather than an idealized state.

Lili Holland-Fricke and Sean Rogan’s debut album “dear alien” is a constellation of radiant improvised impulses, imagined in lucent fragments of cello, guitar and voice. Spacious, tender and glistening with rich electronic distortion, the record melds a spectrum of processed and natural sound as the artists invite listeners into their dreamlike world of synergetic introspections.

Cultivated through a shared spirit of resourcefulness and play, “dear alien” emerges as an organic meeting place in the compositional output of British-German experimental cellist Lili Holland-Fricke and Manchester-born guitarist and producer Sean Rogan. Having studied their respective instruments at the Royal Northern College of Music, both artists have flourished in eclectic solo and collaborative projects, creating intricate and intimate spheres of sound with a deep appreciation for songwriting and improvisation.

Holland-Fricke’s transition from the classical world to writing her own material, and later vastly expanding her palette with electronics, first converged with Rogan’s distinctive flair for production in 2022 on her EP “birdsong for breakfast” and single ‘draw on the walls’. Now, the duo present an album envisioned through true ‘50/50’ collaboration during the summer of 2023, written across two intensive weeks of improvising and experimenting at Rogan’s Greenwich home studio. A convergence of the artists’ sounds and influences, the music was fostered by the idea of making an album with ‘no plan’ and their shared recent discovery of Arthur Russell, to whom the final track is dedicated.

“dear alien” assembles eight compositions that emerged naturally as the duo created sketches with cello and pedals, guitar, tape loops and poetic vocal musings, forming songs that explore themes of waiting, circling back around, and glitchy communication. Moments of drifting through pillowy layers of sound contrast with saturated visions of electronic modification, where the record’s glowing instrumental contours are pushed to the extremes.

The plaintive shades of ‘half blue’ and meandering deliberations of ‘slow thing’ are teased by the friction of static signals and a sense of ever-mutating sonic mass – a sensibility most acutely realised in ‘dawning’, where cello-vocoder eruptions grow in magnitude, the absence of sound between them burdened with something sinister and unspoken. As the artists expand on this piece, ‘It’s the sound equivalent of squeezing your eyes shut to shield against the brightness of something you don’t want to see, only to find that each time you open them again the world is not softening but getting more relentlessly overwhelming, to the point of being totally blinding.’

Three tracks with lyrics – ‘at first’, ‘dear alien’ and ‘seem asleep’ – refract the album’s wistful and melancholic colours into poetic imagery and metaphors, ushering in reflections on relationship tensions and someone close feeling unknown, with hints towards wider unsettled feelings about climate change. In the spirit of lyrical improv, ‘seem asleep’ compiles lone lines from Holland-Fricke’s journals into a cut-and-paste collage around hopeful patience or futile lingering – either way conjuring a softness that welcomes the hazy ambience of ‘for a. r.’, the final composition which soundscapes the summer days spent making the album. As the artists describe of this track, ‘The music kind of leads somewhere, but then kind of leads nowhere, and just meanders around where it is, content to just be walking in a circle back to where it started.’

Esteemed US musician Mike Viola is bringing his new album Rock Of Boston to our shores with a handful of shows in November, forming a special pick-up band with members of The Zutons and The La’s for the tour. Mike Viola is a producer, musician, songwriter and singer best known for his work with Panic! at the Disco, Andrew Bird, Dawes, Ryan Adams and Jenny Lewis. However his solo career stands on its own, starting with a number of acclaimed records as the leader of New York based cult favourite Candy Butchers and 8 critically adored solo records. His original music has been featured on soundtracks for movies such as That Thing You Do!, Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story and Get Him to the Greek. Rock Of Boston was recorded over the winter of 2023 on 8 track ½” tape at Barebones, Viola’s home studio in Los Angeles. Once again joined by his friends Jake Sinclair (Weezer, Sia, Panic! at the Disco) on bass and Brendon Urie (Panic! At The Disco) on drums. For UK shows Mike has roped in Sean Payne (The Zutons) and Jay Lewis (The La's, Cast) to join Jake Sinclair and himself on the road. Viola says, “I’m always writing songs, or pieces of songs, or riffs. My writing process changes every song, so I never get trapped in a method. I let the song lead me. While I was on a world tour playing guitar for Panic at The Disco, I wrote the bulk of this record on the bus between soundcheck and showtime. On the days off, I’d find a recording studio wherever we were and I’d book studio time to sneak away to lay down a few ideas. When the tour finished, Jake and Brendon came home to LA and we never stopped playing music together. We just switched from touring with Panic! to recording Rock Of Boston pretty seamlessly without a break. Maybe that’s why the riffs seem bigger on this record, we had spent all those months in hockey arenas around the world playing big music.”

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Clothilde’s new album sounds like a constant departure from almost everything. Up until now, her music pieces seemed uncontrolled, a total commitment to the machines. She was, somehow, in between us - listener, audience - and the idea of a machine producing sounds she doesn’t seem to control. Of course, none of this was entirely true, she was mostly in control, but the fantasy, the orchestration of it was beautiful. It was sci-fi-ish, Metropolis-magnificent.

In “Cross Sections” everything is purposely under control. We feel, without being told, that Clothilde is directing the narrative, inviting us to partake of this raw and austere electronic sound, forcing us to learn to enjoy it. This is new. Whereas before she would expect you to stay put and listen, eventually you would understand and give in. Or your body would. Now she is telling you to be there, she doesn’t want to be alone, she wants us to feel this subterranean urgency at all costs.

The real eureka moment comes with “Medullary Rays”, when we start cohabiting with the sounds, when they feel familiar. The darkness becomes real; it is palpable how she is stretching each sound and making them come to life at every moment. It is violent, brutal. Like every track, it's a relief when it ends, it's like coming out of a car crash alive. Much of the A side of is Clothilde pushing the boundaries of her sound. She is not testing but finding new ground and sharing it with us. She is exorcising, demolishing and building over and over again, she is crying and screaming, dozing off with the demential levels of bass, making us constantly listen to alarm bells. She is scaring the shit out of us.

The B side keeps the levels of anxiety high up, especially on the 13-minute “Ring”. Surrealistic drones come and go, every second sounds like the end of something, the accumulation of tension is torrential and it never, never stops. We hope there is a conclusion to this. But there is not. “Cross Sections” builds and feeds on this darkness but, in a way, it is self-contained. Never explodes, never releases itself from itself. It is a continuous process of catharsis that it is never over. It never aims to be. Like, you know, life itself.

We've all been there. It feels familiar. Now it has a sound, or sounds. It can be heard and it is outer dimensional. “Cross Sections” is a tremendous effort from an artist trying to survive something. You never know what is. You don’t need to know what it is. It is just there. Cliché but it has to be said: highest possible volume on this one.