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Critically acclaimed Death Metal force TEMPLE OF VOID return with their new album, The Crawl. The caveman brawn of previous albums, namely Summoning the Slayer (2022), remains, but there’s a wider dynamic on the group’s fifth full-length album at play. Now a quartet—featuring guitarist Alex Awn, drummer Jason Pearce, vocalist/guitarist Mike Erdody, and bassist Justin Malek—the Michiganders aren’t shying away from their non-metal influences, seeking greater integration of grunge and post-punk with their brutish signature. Singles “The Crawl” and “Soulburn” demonstrate the proficiency of TEMPLE OF VOID's death-cloaked, spearheaded attack. From the high intensity of opener “Poison Icon” to the granite wall of “The Twin Stranger,” The Crawl isn’t just TEMPLE OF VOID evolved, it’s a harbinger of death metal to come. “The biggest shift for me on this record was not feeling like we had to fly the ‘death-doom banner’ as part of our identity,” says Alex Awn. “Death-doom, as a genre, gave us something to anchor our sound around when we started. It was always a reference and touchstone. At the same time, we always wanted to make sure we had our own spin on it. We’ve always been adding to the conversation, adding to the genre, giving our point of view. A huge part of what makes a Temple of Void record is the non-death-doom influences that make up our DNA. And on album five we never once asked ourselves, ‘Do we have enough death metal? Do we have enough doom metal?’ We simply wrote a heavy-ass record—let the chips fall where they may.” For lyrics, Erdody built on the psychology and fear themes of Summoning the Slayer. The overarching theme of The Crawl is, put rather simply, an “allegory about life, choices, and consequences.” It’s a qualitative view on the horrors of the human condition and the contemplation of our monstrous capabilities. “The Twin Stranger,” for example, is about being stalked by a person’s doppelganger; “Godless Cynic” draws on a short story by sci-fi author Harlan Ellison; and “Poison Icon” tackles the crushing effects of mankind’s intrinsic nature to deceive and control.

Just when you thought Kevin Richard Martin's music couldn’t go any slower, lower or deeper, Sub Zero emerges. A slow-motion excavation of drug-tech, dub, dreamy noise and frozen ambience, the album gradually mutates into hypnotic pulsations and melodic melancholia. It is arguably Martin’s most striking release to date under his given name.


Originally released digitally on Bandcamp only in the depths of winter 2022, amid the final year of the COVID-19 pandemic and Russia’s initial invasion of Ukraine, this desolate epic went on to become KRM's best-selling digital album on the platform. With persistent demand for a vinyl pressing and a full DSP release from fans, Martin thought the time was right for Sub Zero to finally surface in its full glory: remastered and paired with fresh new artwork.


Unnervingly, the album is as beautiful as it is solemn, as glacial as it is relentless, and as subtle as it is terrifying. A trip into a sonic abyss, with a tour of a philosophical void, it’s to my ears, KRM’s most seductive work yet, and also his most emotionally resonant. Martin expertly balances tear-jerking motifs with heavier than hell rhythmic weight. With its melodic fog, eternal drones and eerie atmospherics, the peripheral throb of distant kick drums, the heartbeat punctuation of cavernous subs and the snowstorm blizzard of fuzz absolutely envelopes the mind, whilst crushing the soul.


In terms of lineage, Sub Zero might recall a more paranoid Porter Ricks, a dystopian GAS, or a brutally dubbed-out Pan Sonic. Most fitting, however, is its kinship with the deepest dub terrain Martin previously explored on In Blue, The Bug’s acclaimed 2020 collaboration with Dis Fig for Hyperdub, where he obsessively probed subaqueous pulses and low-end modulations.


Sub Zero is possibly the most minimal, desolate, and deviant dub record yet released on Martin’s PRESSURE label. It marks the point at which dub disappears into its own effects trails. Dub music capturing frozen moments in time. Dub as an addictive painkiller, that sounds both sacred and ocean deep.

Have Isaac Carter & Callum Asa made the most tasteful tech house EP of recent memory? The short answer is
yes....

Isaac and Callum, known for their respective club nights: OCHI and Planet People have been quietly chipping away at the coalface of underground dance music for quite some time now.

Isaac - perhaps known more widely as a regular at Circoloco & Phonox has shared bills with the likes of Moodyman, DJ Bone, Kai Alce, Laurent Garnier and Marcellus Pittmann whilst being championed by Joy Orbison, Ben UFO, Moxie, Seth Troxler, Raresh and Floating Points to name but a few. With such an impressive CV and wide ranging support, it’s wild to note that the first EP released on his own label, OCHI only came out in 2023. His star is clearly ascending with rapidity - so when we throw long term collaborator Callum Asa into the mix, things start to get really interesting. Calum has been running Planet People for the last couple of years, welcoming incredible names such as Shed, Surgeon, Willow, Ploy, Cooly G, Rroxymore and so many more. Steel sharpens steel and having been surrounded by such esteemed talent, it’s clearly rubbed off on the pair who present 4 polished, meticulously constructed, club ready masterpieces, each with their own distinct feel and an insatiable groove.

‘Feel Me’ sets the scene with a descending baseline that would eek a wiggle out of the most reluctant spectator. The twisted dub eeks out even more groove, locking in a more sinister bounce for the heads. By The time ‘Understand’ get’s into full swing, we’re already under the spell of Carter & Asa, this is the kind of roller that could go on forever and ever. The synth embellishments and washes of analog synth pull us deeper and deeper in, prepping us for the finale , ’Try You’ which simmers with deep, brooding intensity.

The magic of the dup’s appeal is that this EP will find its way into the bags of the deepest diggers and also appeal to a new generation of house fans. Elements of it are accessible , but in the right hands - the EP will open a portal to new worlds.

Jorge Ben is someone who needs no introduction. Since his first hits in the early 60s, this the greatest icons of the greatest icons of Brazilian pop music. His anthems 'Mais Que Nada' or 'Pais Tropical' are among two of the most ever listened Brazilian songs of all time. Ben's self-titled 1969 album is a true samba-soul masterpiece from one of Brazil's most creative voices. This isn't your typical late-'60s LP: Jorge Ben blends the hypnotic swing of samba with funk, psychedelia, and sun-soaked soul in a way that feels both classic and ahead of its time. Released in November 1969, this was Jorge Ben's sixth studio record, and his first back with the Philips label after a creative hiatus. He recorded it with the tight-knit, percussive groove of Trio Mocoto -- whose rhythms lock in beautifully with Ben's laid-back guitar and vocals. On top of that, the album features lush orchestral arrangements from Jose Briamonte and Rogerio Duprat, adding a soaring, psychedelic dimension to Ben's sound. Standout tracks? You've got the joyous anthem 'Pais Tropical', a perfect celebration of Brazilian life.



Then there's 'Take It Easy My Brother Charles', a socially conscious number that tells the story of a rebellious sailor -- Ben weaves in themes of race, identity, and resilience. And songs like 'Que Pena' bring in that sweet, soulful melancholy, while breezy cuts like 'Criola', 'Domingas', and 'Barbarella' highlight his playful, poetic side. This record is a rare blend of genres -- samba, soul, funk, psychedelia -- and it's got a timeless energy. Whether you're already into Brazilian music or just looking for something fresh and soulful, Jorge Ben's 1969 album is a joyous entry point. Reissue on 180g vinyl.

2026 Repress


Another Thought was the first collection of Arthur Russell’s music to be released after his death in 1992. Released in 1993 on Point Music it marked the beginning of nearly 30 years of work to let the world hear the enormous archive of unreleased recordings Arthur left behind. Be With revisits this first compilation for a new gatefold double vinyl version and a triple-fold digipak CD reissue.

Both versions of Be With’s 2021 reissue of Another Thought have been mastered by Simon Francis and the vinyl cut by Pete Norman. The original artwork has been restored and tweaked at Be With HQ for the gatefold sleeve and the triple-fold digipak, with the essential help of Janette Beckman. Each version comes with an insert reproducing the liner notes and lyrics from the original CD release.

Together with Calling Out Of Context, Soul Jazz’s World of Arthur Russell, and much of the ongoing work of Audika, Another Thought is absolutely essential for even the most casual Arthur Russell collection. In fact we’d argue it’s essential for any fan of non-obvious pop music. This is the only place where you can hear some of Arthur’s most recognisable tunes and it’s an album that absolutely deserves to be kept in press.


We’ll assume that by now you’re all at least a little familiar with the story of Arthur Russell, the farm boy from Iowa who moved to 1970s New York. Arthur Russell the genuine musical genius who died just 40 years old, leaving behind a wealth of music that dwarfed the few 12"s and LPs that were released during his short life.

Although Arthur had been working on an album for Rough Trade during his last years, with the label no-longer operating it was Point Music (Philip Glass and Michael Riesman’s label set up together with Philips) who stepped in to help Arthur’s partner Tom Lee start working out exactly what Arthur had left behind.

Tom suggested that Arthur’s friend Mikel Rouse was the right person to make the first catalogue. Working in Tom and Arthur’s apartment he had only two weeks to go through what turned out to be around 800 tapes.

As Tom explained “at the end of each day he would generally wait for me to come home and I would, to the best of my knowledge, name and identify pieces in question from that day’s work. As he worked Mikel compiled about a dozen cassettes that he thought would present the most finished sounding songs for Don/Point to use. As Don listened he would then suggest and ask me and thus we collaborated on the choices.”

Don is Don Christensen, Another Thought’s producer. With a final selection of songs from recordings made between 1982 and 1990, including sessions with some of Arthur’s regular collaborators Peter Zummo, Steven Hall, Mustafa Ahmed, Elodie Lauten, Julius Eastman, Jennifer Warnes and Joyce Bowden, it was then Don’s job to turn these into a finished album.

Another Thought is a little different from the compilations of Arthur’s music that came out since. In our conversations with Steve Knutson (who founded Audika Records and who manages Arthur’s estate together with Tom), he explained that “more than any project released by Arthur during his lifetime or posthumously by Audika, ‘Another Thought’ is the most worked over. The material was significantly edited and rearranged from the original source tapes”.

If the aim was to release a comprehensive exploration of every facet of Arthur’s music, from the most avant-garde of his avant-garde compositions through to the most disco-not-disco of his disco-not-disco tunes then the project was a spectacular failure. But as a coherent album of non-obvious pop music Another Thought is wonderful.

Starting with the sparse voice-and-cello of the title track, A Little Lost adds some guitar along with the sneaking suspicion that we’re listening to something nowhere near as simple as it first sounds. By the time we get to This Is How We Walk On The Moon - it could be the moment you notice the congas, or the percussion that’s been building behind them, or maybe it’s that blast of trumpet and trombone - we realise we’ve gone from splashing around to being completely submerged in the musical world of Arthur Russell.

From here the album heads off on its journey around the sounds of the left-field contemporary classical music of the time, re-directed towards pop ears, with minor detours through the swirling woozy disco of the half-remembered night before on In The Light Of The Miracle and My Tiger, My Timing. Whether it’s just Arthur, his cello and some bleeps on Just A Blip, or whether he has some vocal help as he does on the bounding Keeping Up, this is difficult music made so, so easy. And through it all is Arthur’s voice and cello. Sometimes drowned in distortion and sometimes clear as a bell, but always there somewhere.

A Sudden Chill finally returns us to the calmer waters we started in and this last track closes the album with a melancholy that’s not surprising given how soon after Arthur’s death the album was put together.

Whilst Another Thought holds together with the consistency of a proper album, there’s still no getting away from the fact that this was put together from audio recorded in different ways, in different places, with different people at different times. Those with keen ears will hear traces of tape hiss, the occasional blown-out note and some digital fuzz, all fingerprints of those original recordings as well as of the 1990s digital equipment that was used to piece Another Thought together.

Add to this Arthur’s obvious pleasure in making music from the sort of sounds that can make microphones, speakers and ears uncomfortable, it’s no surprise that Another Thought isn’t glossy and pristine. Don Christensen’s productions have been careful to not scrub up those original recordings so much that they lose their original vibe, understandable given that Arthur wasn’t around as a guide. We’ve applied a similarly light touch with the mastering for these Be With versions, just working to make sure they sound like they should on both the vinyl and the CD.

Despite the Discogs rumours, Another Thought was never originally released as an LP. So when it came to the sleeve for this Be With vinyl version we took the original CD artwork as a starting point to come up with something that looks like it could have been in the record racks back in 1993.

We have to thank Janette Beckman for helping us reproduce her iconic photograph of Arthur in his newspaper boat hat. One of many photographs she took of Arthur, Janette shot this in her New York studio back in 1986 for a short article in the January ’87 issue of The Face Magazine. Those with eagle-eyes will notice we’ve used an ever-so-slightly different shot from the one that appeared in The Face and then again on the original cover of Another Thought. The original has long since been lost so we’ve worked with what is left in Janette’s archives. And we also have to thank Tom Lee for giving us permission to reproduce his liner notes from the original CD booklet, together with Arthur’s lyrics.

World Of Echo announces the reissue of two remastered albums by Japanese guitarist and songwriter Naoki Zushi, 1988’s Paradise, and 2005’s III. Two classics of Japanese psychedelia, both Paradise and III were originally released on Org Records, the imprint of Shinji Shibayama of acid-folk group Nagisa Ni Te, with whom Zushi has guested on second guitar for decades. Both intimate and expansive, rich with revelatory songwriting and blasted, sky-scouring guitar, these reissues return these albums to print for the first time since the 2000s. It’s the first time III has been officially released on vinyl, with an extra, previously unreleased track, “Under The June Moonlight.”

Recorded in Kyoto’s Townhouse Studios in mid 1987 and released in limited-to-500 vinyl pressing in 1988, Paradise emerged from a scene in Kansai, Japan that was embracing the idiosyncracies of 1970s singer-songwriters, the soaring solos of early seventies psychedelia, and the DIY impulse of 1980s post-punk. While Zushi’s musical history stretched back to the early eighties – he was a founding member of Jojo Hiroshige’s noise outfit Hijokaidan – he found his feet with groups like Hallelujahs, whose dream-pop collection Niku O Kuraite Chikai Wo Tateyo was recently reissued by Black Editions, and Idiot O’Clock.

Paradise appeared two years after that Hallelujahs album and share much the same membership – Zushi’s backing band on several of the songs includes Shibayama on drums and Ken-Ichi Takayama (aka Idiot) on electric guitar, though just as often, Zushi plays all the instruments himself. The coordinates here are wide-reaching – you can hear the volume and intensity of Neil Young & Crazy Horse (on “Hallelujah: Left Side” and “Paradise: Midday”), the slow-motion magic of Galaxie 500, the idiosyncratic spirit of The Only Ones, all mixed up with tender guitar miniatures and stumbling garage-psych-pop moves.

Seven years later, after the transitional album Phenomenal Luciferin, Zushi released III. Perhaps his masterpiece, it’s already been bootlegged on vinyl, but this reissue is the real deal. The album was recorded at Studio Nemu over seven years, and sees Zushi backed by Shibayama (bass) and Masako Takeda (drums), his erstwhile bandmates in Nagisa Ni Te. By this stage, Zushi had started to really stretch out, and many of the songs on III swoon languorously, taking their sweet time to say what they need to say. It’s rich with lovely, melancholy songs, in a similar realm to bandmates Nagisa Ni Te, of course, but you can also hear traces of everything from Syd Barrett’s The Madcap Laughs, through seventies private press loner folk, to the slow-burn meanderings of the likes of early Low or Damon & Naomi.

When interviewed by Shibayama in the mid-nineties, Zushi said of Paradise, “it was a sort of collection of songs that had meant something to me up to that point… it was my paradise. I wanted to create paradise.” That’s something Zushi achieves on both of these albums – visionary Japanese psychedelia, en route to paradise. - Jon Dale

Ltd. Transp. Sparkle Vinyl

Cranes is a dream pop/shoegaze band formed by siblings Alison and Jim Shaw who rose to stardom following a world tour with the Cure in 1992. After the influential Dedicated label folded in 1998 they went on a two-year hiatus after which they se up their own label Dadaphonic. Here, they released three studio albums between 2001 and 2008, of which this record is their penultimate. This record, as any other on their label, strikes the perfect balance between their typical 90s alt rock underpinnings and modern electronica. Downtempo beats and swirling effects combined with jangly guitars and Alison Shaw's mysterious vocal presence make for a deep and subdued album, in the best way possible. Fans of the band have been requesting a vinyl release for quite a while now and to them we say: ask and you shall receive. Particles & Waves is available on vinyl for the first time as a limited edition of 1000 individually numbered copies on Crystal Clear, Blue & White Marbled vinyl.

After decades spent shaping the sound of southern Madagascar and becoming one of the defining voices of tsapiky, Damily returns with Fanjiry, his most intimate and focused record to date. Known for electrifying village ceremonies and carrying the fever of Toliara across continents, he takes a sharp turn — not away from trance, but deeper into its core.

Recorded in just three days at Studio Black Box with analog wizard Peter Deimel, Fanjiry strips the tsapiky band down to a single guitar and a single heartbeat. Damily plays alone, yet fills the space completely — bass, rhythm, melody, pulse, and breath merging into a dense and vibrating sound. Every riff is architecture, every harmonic a door opening onto memory, childhood landscapes, and nights where music heals, binds, and exhausts the dark.

There is no nostalgia here, no museum of tradition. Fanjiry is a new frontier for tsapiky: raw, precise, suspended between earth and sky, born from craft and necessity. The title — the last star before dawn — captures its essence: a quiet moment before the world awakens, where a single guitar can hold an entire history and still point forward.

After decades spent shaping the sound of southern Madagascar and becoming one of the defining voices of tsapiky, Damily returns with Fanjiry, his most intimate and focused record to date. Known for electrifying village ceremonies and carrying the fever of Toliara across continents, he takes a sharp turn - not away from trance, but deeper into its core. Recorded in just three days at Studio Black Box with analog wizard Peter Deimel, Fanjiry strips the tsapiky band down to a single guitar and a single heartbeat. Damily plays alone, yet fills the space completely - bass, rhythm, melody, pulse, and breath merging into a dense and vibrating sound. Every riff is architecture, every harmonic a door opening onto memory, childhood landscapes, and nights where music heals, binds, and exhausts the dark. There is no nostalgia here, no museum of tradition. Fanjiry is a new frontier for tsapiky: raw, precise, suspended between earth and sky, born from craft and necessity. The title - the last star before dawn - captures its essence: a quiet moment before the world awakens, where a single guitar can hold an entire history and still point forward.

On a Sunday in the early 70s in South LA one could asily find themselves experiencing the Pan Afrikan Peoples Arkestra doing what they do for the community, performing incredible music. "Live at Widney High December 26th, 1971" is a previously unreleased PAPA recording. It finds director Horace Tapscott conducting the band at Widney Career Preparatory & Transition Center, a special-education magnet high school in Los Angeles. The band played shows here between 1970 and "72, often sharing the bill with contemporaries John Carter and Bobby Bradford"s group, and at one point the Sun-Ra Arkestra. These weekend shows were free and meant for the surrounding Black community. On this date the PAPA performed a range of compositions from the Ark"s expansive songbook, including arrangements of tunes by Pharoah Sanders and John Coltrane.

Sundays is the debut full length from Oakland-based Tanukichan, aka multi-instrumentalist Hannah van Loon. At surface level, the album sounds just how the title describes: hazy, dreamy, reflective, just like a lazy Sunday afternoon. Upon second and third listens, the dreamy music unveils a deeper world: an ever present sense of longing, an endless state of summer and a period of instability that plagues us all at one point or another in our lives.
Raised in San Francisco, van Loon started out making classical, bluegrass and jazz music as well as playing in numerous bands in the area before deciding to make something more personal. What started with a few unfocused demos, with van Loon playing all the instruments herself in her house, became a studio experience and viable collection of music after her friend Anthony Ferraro of Astronauts, Etc. introduced her to Company Records founder Chaz Bear (Toro Y Moi, Les Sins). After collaborating on her 2016 EP Radiolove, van Loon and Bear set out to make a much more sonically cohesive release, with both the producer and artist playing all the instruments on the record. The result is a slice of dream pop that could only come from the combination of the laid back atmosphere of California and the nostalgic and often difficult memories that are generally associated with coming of age.
To van Loon, the tracks of Sundays are a form of contemplation and approaching life’s issues from a different and less complicated perspective. “Sometimes for me, it feels easier to write songs about things than to talk. A lot of things in life are layered and paradoxical, but with songs it always seems simpler.”
Opening track “Lazy Love” sets the stage, sonically and lyrically, for the rest of the album, combining vulnerable lyrics with gorgeous, fuzzy tones. Above pummeling synths and guitar tones, van Loon sings “you know I'd do anything/don't you know I try my best/if I could wake up when the sun is rising” showing the album’s constant theme of balancing always wanting to be the best person you can be, while also feeling a low level joy at letting life play out as it wants to. “Natural” is a track that feels perfect for a road trip, a track that hums away with a driving beat, culminating in the sheer excitement of finally having a night alone with someone you’ve loved for a while, among many highs and lows: “a window too bright/it's natural sunlight/grey fades to white lie/kiss you tonight/it's natural delight/help me feel right.” The tracks collectively address a deep rooted sense of yearning for someone, something new, while also feeling content with your life; a realization that maybe the places you’ve always belonged aren’t where you should be anymore, that suddenly you might be looking for something completely different.
“I settled on the name Sundays as the title of the record because it encapsulated how the record felt to me,“ van Loon says. “I was thinking about the laziness, and dreamy clarity that you can feel after a late night, waking up having to face the world with a new perspective.” Sundays encapsulates this feeling, a nostalgic way of looking at the world, waking up feeling like a slightly different person than before, looking back on life, not sure if you can tackle what’s next, but doing your best, day in and day out

James Curd and Osunlade. After years of playing back to back DJ sets and collaborating in the studio, they decided it was time to create something that could represent both the music they make together and the shows they play. Their sound is a natural meeting point between deep house grooves and soulful roots, reflecting both artists’ histories and shared love fortimeless dance music.

The first single from Nomadic’s is “Better Man”. The track was originally signed to Defected Records,but after creative differences about how the release should be presented, the contract was voided. That decision gave James and Osunlade the chance to put the music out exactly as they envisioned, and the song now finds its proper home on Pronto Records. The package includes the original alongside a set of remixes from some of the most exciting names in underground house.

Dutch producer Frits Wentink delivers a remix in his unmistakable style – raw drum programming, warm analogue textures, and the kind of off kilter groove that has made him one of the most respected names in Europe’s house scene. Mr Ho, co-founder of the cult label Klasse Wrecks, adds his own twist with a version that nods to classic rave and electro energy, while keeping things firmly locked for the dancefloor. Finally, LA based duo Too Easy bring a mysterious touch, layering live instrumentation with electronic drive, showing why they’re quickly becoming ones to watch.

With its story of creative independence, heavyweight remixers, and the credibility of two deeplyrespected artists at the helm, “Better Man” is both a club record and a statement of intent for what Nomadic’s represents.

Synthpop, minimal wave, post-punk, goth, new romantic - fans and critics alike have dug deeply into their vintage thesauruses to describe the beguiling work of Nation of Language. And if you can't precisely define the band, that's the point. Frontman Ian Richard Devaney has become prodigious in expanding what synthesizer-driven music can evoke, such that his output is as much an extrasensory journey as it is an all-too-human destination. With that experience in mind, he wrote the band's fourth album - the spectral, spacious Dance Called Memory - in the most humble of ways: chipping away at melancholia by sitting around and strumming his guitar. Nation of Language's first two albums, Introduction, Presence (2020), and A Way Forward (2021), came as pandemic godsends: gorgeous, relatable soundtracks to our collective doldrums. But it was their last LP, Strange Disciple (2023), that catapulted the group from cultural standouts to critical darlings, with the album being named Rough Trade's Album of the Year. With that release, Pitchfork wrote that the band "are learning what it means to get bigger and better." This is Devaney's calling: soulfully translating individual despair into a comforting, collective mourning. The single "Now That You're Gone," which radiates and reverberates with a devastating wistfulness, was inspired by witnessing his godfather's tragic death from ALS, and his parents' role as caretakers for this ailing friend. At its heart, the song is a reflection of how friends can be there for each other, and also highlights a theme throughout the record: the pain and lost promise of friendships that fall apart. On Dance Called Memory, the band once again collaborated with friend and Strange Disciple producer Nick Millhiser (LCD Soundsystem, Holy Ghost!). "What's so great about Nick is his ability to make us feel like we don't need to do what might be expected of us," says synth player Aidan Noell, who, along with bassist Alex MacKay, rounds out the Nation of Language lineup. They imbued Dance Called Memory with a shifted palette - sampling chopped-up drum breaks on "I'm Not Ready for the Change" for a touch of Loveless-era My Bloody Valentine or smashing all of the percussion of "In Another Life" through a synthesizer to cast a shade of early-2000s electronic music. Ultimately, the hope was to weave raw vulnerability and humanity into a synth-heavy album. "There is a dichotomy between the Kraftwerk school of thought and the Brian Eno school of thought, each of which I've been drawn to at different points. I've read about how Kraftwerk wanted to remove all the humanity from their music, but Eno often spoke about wanting to make synthesized music that felt distinctly human," Devaney says. "As much as Kraftwerk is a sonically foundational influence, with this record I leaned much more towards the Eno school of thought. In this era quickly being defined by the rise of AI supplanting human creators I'm focusing more on the human condition, and I need the underlying music to support that_ Instead of hopelessness, I want to leave the listener with a feeling of us really seeing one another, that our individual struggles can actually unite us in empathy."

Aspen Edities is pleased to present Aerial, the third album of the experimental quartet Oker.

Whereas their album debut Husene våre er museer (2018) and its follow-up Susurrus (2021) focused on collective and individual compositions, Aerial features two longform pieces of fully improvised music, sculpted from the recognizable acoustic sound palette that the quartet has developed across a decade of extensive touring. The titles, Aerial, Equinoctial Tide and Crepuscular Rays refer to meteorological and planetary phenomena, and in Oker’s interplay we hear light, wind, clouds, and tidal cycles transpire as shimmering, roaring, rubbing, coalescing and diverging environments of sound. The sonic stoicism and minimalism in their expression is challenged by frictioning micro-chaoses, combining to create calm, winding paths of musical detail and form. Echoing our planet and its meteorological reality, Aerial yields both consistency and perpetual change.

Bringing together some of the most compelling musicians from the Norwegian improvised music scene, Oker operates as an acoustic experimental quartet devoted to the amalgamation of improvised and composed modes of expression. Their music combines fine-tuned tonalities, deconstructed grooves, acoustic noise and other sonic events, taking their rather conventional instrumentation as a point of departure. Textures in gradual change coexisting with responsive and spontaneous gestures create a varied but coherent musical ecosystem which can be airy or dense, dry or blooming. A certain minimalist or stoic approach to sound production is an overarching and recurring element in all of Oker’s music, differentiating their sound from the majority of music in the field of improvised music or free jazz.

Rikk Agnew's All by Myself is one of those records that feels like a secret you're lucky to stumble upon -- a raw, weird, totally personal snapshot of a restless artist at a pivotal moment. Originally released in 1982 on Frontier Records, the album stands apart from most of what was coming out of Southern California at the time, even though it was born right in the middle of the exploding hardcore punk scene. By 1982, Rikk Agnew was already a big deal underground. As the guitarist for Adolescents, he helped shape the sound of Orange County hardcore with sharp riffs, surf-inflected melodies, and a sense of urgency that became hugely influential. He also played in bands like D.I. and later Christian Death, moving fluidly between hardcore punk, post-punk, and darker, more experimental territory. Agnew wasn't just a fast, aggressive guitarist -- he was a songwriter with range, curiosity, and a strong DIY instinct. All by Myself lives up to its title in the most literal way. Agnew recorded the album largely on his own, playing all the instruments and handling vocals himself. Instead of delivering another straight-up hardcore record, he went inward. The result is a lo-fi, home-recorded collection of songs that blend punk energy with new wave, post-punk, psychedelic touches, and even moments of pop sensitivity. It's rough around the edges, but that's exactly the point -- the album feels intimate, unfiltered, and honest. In the early '80s, Southern California punk was loud, fast, and often confrontational. Bands were pushing against the mainstream and even against each other, racing toward more extreme sounds. While All by Myself shares that DIY spirit, it doesn't fully play by hardcore rules. The tempos shift, the moods wander, and the songs feel more like personal experiments than scene anthems. That made the record a bit of an outlier at the time -- but also what gives it lasting appeal. Frontier Records was the perfect home for a release like this. The label was known for supporting artists who didn't quite fit into neat categories, and All by Myself captured that ethos perfectly. Today, All by Myself is often seen as a cult classic. For fans of early punk, post-punk, or anyone interested in the roots of DIY recording culture, this album is essential listening