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ADULT. kooperiert nicht. Seit über 25 Jahren verkörpert die dystopische Detroit-Synth-Punk-Institution, gegründet von Nicola Kuperus und Adam Lee Miller, unbeirrbare Frustration, Misstrauen und Beklemmung. Man könnte erwarten, dass sich die Kanten mit der Zeit abschleifen, doch ADULT. hat kein Interesse am Komfort eines Vermächtnisses. Noch nie klang die Musik des Duos so unmittelbar, so dringlich und so unverhohlen wütend wie auf dem abschließenden, kompromisslosen Kissing Luck Goodbye.Mit aufgerüstetem Equipment und einer neuen Klangbibliothek gebaut, ist das Material erdrückend dynamisch, lauter - und zugleich klarer. Kuperus' dominante Darbietung rückt im Mix stärker in den Vordergrund und skizziert ein Arsenal aus lebhaften, ätzenden Rufen, Sprechchören und Gedankensplittern. Lachen - ob in den Texten oder als besessene Präsenz - fungiert als Leitmotiv und verweist auf die bedrohliche Absurdität der modernen Zeit.,THE CHAOS IS WHAT THEY WANT", singt sie in ,R U 4 $ALE" - zugleich eine Absichtserklärung: einer brennenden Welt aus Gier und Unordnung mit trotzigem, meisterhaft zusammengebautem Chaos zu begegnen. ,Du hast in dieser Höllenlandschaft, in der wir gerade leben, zwei Möglichkeiten: kämpfen oder depressiv sein", sagt Miller. ,Beides ist okay. Aber, na ja, die Entscheidung war einfach."ADULT. ist bekannt für hochriskante Katharsis auf der Bühne und griff kürzlich auf seinen Backkatalog an Bassgitarren-Songs aus den 2000ern zurück, wobei sie die vorausschauende Anxiety Always-Ära erneut nachzeichneten - teils aus Notwendigkeit angesichts der heutigen politischen und technologischen Angsttemperatur. Die Reaktion war sofort spürbar: ,Wir waren in Paris, und die Kids sind von der Bühne gesprungen. Und ich dachte nur: Das ist großartig. Das ist irgendwie die Energie, in die ich wieder zurückwill", sagt Kuperus.Diese Erkenntnis fiel mit einer Reihe von Rückschlägen zusammen - Kuperus' Anfällen von chronischem Schwindel, dem Verlust ihres engen Freundes und Kollaborateurs Douglas McCarthy von Nitzer Ebb, dem das Album gewidmet ist - alles unter dem drohenden Regime noch einmal erheblich verschärft. ,Wir dachten nur: Alles zerbricht. Wir zerbrechen. Wir sind kaputt." Dieses Gefühl hielt jedoch nicht an, denn letztlich waren sie viel zu sehr von Wut aufgeladen, um stillzuhalten. Die Stimmung vor Kissing Luck Goodbye waren vier Mittelfinger, die kerzengerade nach oben zeigten.Anstatt sich zurückzuziehen, konzentrierten sie sich auf den Prozess und überarbeiteten ihr Setup - inklusive der ersten neuen Mikrofone seit 20 Jahren. Hält man das Album an irgendeiner Stelle an, zählt man wahrscheinlich ein Dutzend Dinge, die gleichzeitig passieren, in seltsamer, schwindelerregender und dissonanter Harmonie. ,No One Is Coming" attackiert Untätigkeit angesichts des Faschismus - ,NO ONE IS COMING TO YOUR RESCUE". ,None of It's Fun" feuert mit atemloser Dringlichkeit, rasenden Glissandi und pointierten Zeilen wie: ,OH I AM TEARING MY GUTS OUT / LOOK AT ME_ DO YOU THINK THAT THIS IS AMUSING?"Eine geradlinige Basslinie und Kickdrum prallen im Abschlusstrack ,Destroyers" auf pulsierende Mantras, werden dann vollständig gesättigt und kakophonisch. Ihre jüngeren Ichs hätten den Song vielleicht sich selbst zerstören lassen, doch hier gelang es ihnen, die Lautstärke durch alle Extreme hindurch zu stabilisieren und Raum für ein eindringliches, abschließendes A-cappella zu schaffen: WE PAY THE PRICE FOR THOSE IN POWER EXPLOITING YOU EXPLOITING ME CONSUMING YOU CONSUMING ME SICK SICK SICK SICKENING IT IS US THAT ARE DEVOURED BY EVERYTHING I WILL EAT YOUR HATE

For Louis Johnstone, making music has never been about waiting for the right equipment, the right environment or the right moment. Across more than a decade of work as both Wanda Group and A Large Sheet Of Muscle, the Huddersfield-based musician has built one of British experimental music's most singular bodies of work by embracing whatever happens to be within reach, allowing instinct, improvisation and circumstance to shape the outcome as much as conscious composition.
"'Chinese Benefits' was made over a year ago on an iPhone that had a broken microphone and was on its way out," he explains. "I have made many records after this with clearer sounds. Sharper ideas. That is never the point, though. You work with what you hold in your hands."
Recorded entirely on a failing iPhone 6 that stopped working shortly afterwards, 'Chinese Benefits' isn't a record about damaged technology. It is a record shaped by it. Rather than resisting the limitations of the device, Johnstone allows them to become part of the music itself, where distortion, interference and deteriorating fidelity are inseparable from the recording process.
Across twenty brief but disquieting pieces, corroded spoken word, environmental recordings, abrasive noise and fractured electronics continually emerge and dissolve. Voices drift in and out of range, reverberation stretches everyday sounds beyond recognition, and bursts of white noise interrupt moments of uneasy calm. There are echoes of radio transmissions, field recordings and musique concrète throughout, yet 'Chinese Benefits' never settles comfortably into any one tradition. Instead, it inhabits a space where accident and intention become almost impossible to separate.

That philosophy has long defined Johnstone's work. Through a vast catalogue of self-released recordings on his Umbro G imprint, alongside releases for labels including The Trilogy Tapes, he has consistently favoured immediacy over refinement, embracing imperfection not as an aesthetic but as a practical reality. His recordings are less concerned with perfection than with capturing the conditions in which they were made.
Looking back on 'Chinese Benefits', however, Johnstone's own assessment is characteristically understated.
"Listening back fully, it's quite a nice record actually. Fair enough, I make them and never really listen again TBH. Even better, it was the last Large Sheet Of Muscle record made on that phone with grit and damaged guts."

Like much of his work, 'Chinese Benefits' offers few fixed meanings. Its titles remain cryptic, its voices partially obscured and its structures deliberately unstable. What emerges instead is a deeply personal document of process over perfection, where the limitations of the tools become inseparable from the music they produce, and where the act of making something matters far more than the conditions in which it was made.

Keroxen presents Spandauer Damm 103, a new album by Dancelwerk.
Bringing together modular systems, worn drum machines and digital synthesis, the record nods directly to the first decade of Warp Records and the early logic of bleep culture.
Dancelwerk is a Tenerife-based electronic pioneer and one of the foundational figures of the Canary Islands underground. Active for over 30 years, Spandauer Damm 103 marks both a personal milestone and a renewed point of focus, reaffirming his role in shaping the region’s electronic lineage. The album draws on 1990s electronic futurism, filtering those references through a contemporary production approach rather than nostalgia.
The music moves between places and periods: from the early rave circuits of southern Tenerife, where Dancelwerk built his reputation through DIY releases and warehouse-level experimentation, to his later relocation to Berlin, famously arriving with a shipping container of vintage synthesizers and modular equipment.
Balancing melody and impact, Spandauer Damm 103 sets custom-programmed percussion against detailed sound design. FM, spectral and wavetable synthesis shape its harmonic and textural focus, resulting in music that remains physical without sacrificing clarity.
A long-standing practitioner reconnecting with his roots while pushing the system forward.

*COMES IN GATEFOLD 2LP WITH LINER NOTES*

The premise of this compilation is simple: music we’d like to hear at the airport.

The idea came after learning that Honolulu’s international airport has been playing AI-generated music over its speakers since November 2025. First reported by Civil Beat, the news has caused frustration and disappointment among residents and visitors, as well as within the local music community.

Everyone knows Hawaii is one of the most musically rich regions in the world — why then is the airport using AI music? 'Music For The Airport' is our response.

Located in the middle of the Pacific at the outskirts of one the most remote cities on the planet, Honolulu’s Daniel K. Inouye International Airport (HNL) is for most people the first place they encounter when they arrive in Hawaii. Warm sun, tropical tradewinds, playful palm trees and majestic mountains welcome every traveler, as do the sounds of birds, familiar music from Hawaiian artists like Aunty Genoa Keawe and Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, and—at least for now—seventeen “island-themed” AI-generated songs.

In late 1977, while sitting in Germany’s Cologne Bonn Airport on a Sunday morning, Brian Eno noticed how terribly uncomfortable he felt hearing the airport’s “muzak” overhead. For a harried, hurried place like the airport where travelers scramble to their gates, stand in long border control lines, and wait impatiently for their luggage at the carousels, music can create more anxiety than calm. Asking himself, "What should we be hearing here?", Eno soon created ‘Ambient 1: Music For Airports’, a sonic remedy aimed at reducing nervousness in public spaces.

When we heard the news that HNL airport is playing AI-generated “muzak”, we were immediately reminded of Eno’s genre-defying 1978 album. And we were similarly inspired to react. But how? Recreating an ambient masterpiece wasn’t in our wheelhouse. We started digging through our catalog of licensed music which we haven’t yet re-released. We quickly realized this was our chance to highlight some of favorite songs from the so-called CD era: the 1990s and 2000s (with a few exceptions). In less than 20 minutes, we pulled 17 original songs recorded by local artists between 1984 and 2017.

The speed at which this project came together surprised us; reactionary gut instinct often produces swift and lasting results. Ironically, our new compilation likely took less time than it did for the state Department of Transportation to commission its AI songs in question. But even though ‘Music for the Airport’ came together in less than one week, the truth is that this collection of 17 songs is the result of years of hard work, trust, sacrifice, patience, and understanding. Building relationships with and licensing music from artists doesn’t happen overnight, but more importantly: these songs are the result of people pouring their hearts and souls into something they believe in. This music wouldn’t exist today without the artists and their loved ones who supported them along the way.

As of this writing, the DOT states its intention in creating AI-generated songs is to “highlight different aspects of the islands, aviation and the airport” and that “no state funds were used to produce them”. Okay, but at what cost? Technology disrupting the music industry isn’t news to anyone. AI music in public spaces are cost-saving measures, since its users (airports, for example) don’t have to pay the licensing fees typically required, which can be a worthwhile source of revenue for artists. But what happens when a place like HNL airport, which hosts more than 21 million passengers annually, uses music created by machines instead of people to represent Hawaii? The identity of a place beings to erode, diluted by a language learning model’s conceptual summary of what a people and its culture sounds like. To echo Brian Eno: what should we be hearing here? In other words: what should the music of Hawaii sound like?

We believe in the power of music, especially when it comes from the soul. We believe in supporting artists, especially as AI disrupts our lives. We believe that Hawaii must be represented authentically, especially when it comes to song. And of course we believe in vinyl, especially since it was a record from 1978 (Mackey Feary Band’s debut LP) that inspired Aloha Got Soul’s origins in 2010.

We hope you find as much joy in this compilation as we have. Perhaps it’ll soundtrack your next journey to Hawaii. At the very least, we hope some people take a moment to hear these sounds: in your headphones for now‚ maybe someday overhead at the airport in Honolulu.

Verdad Y Error (2026) resides in the tension between the thrashing of external noise and beating centred internal calm. Gibrana Cervantes is known for her work across experimental music and contemporary performance, a practice with focussed intensity and surging physicality, often pushing the limits of endurance, presence, and embodiment. A central axis of her performance practice is her ongoing collaboration with acclaimed choreographer Florentina Holzinger, including composing the music for SEA WORLD (2026), Florentina Holzinger’s critically acclaimed installation for the Austrian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale. Alongside this, she is a core member of the experimental ensemble Amor Muere (Mabe Fratti, Concepción Huerta, and Camille Mandoki). Cervantes maintains an active recording practice that directly informs her live output including her collaboration Memoria (2025), with Colombian Drone Mafia (Nyksan) for Ambie-Tón (Tratratrax),

Verdad y Error is a record of her artistic approach which expands her body and the violin’s horizon of possibility to near breaking point. Cervantes uses a register closely associated with Metal, yet buried deep in the alchemy of these pieces are motifs which hark back to her classical background. Across these pieces the violin is used as an instrument with a fragmented and shifting voice — blurred, repeated, and reshaped through distortion. “Many of these pieces come from images, memories, and sensations that have stayed with me for years. I'm interested in the blurring of what actually happened and what time transforms.” The recordings are built with layers of violin tones which oscillate between recognisable, processed, stretched and shifted, and lay embedded in a frequency stratum of volatile static and noise. “The violin on this album doesn't appear as a clean instrument. I process it, repeat it, distort it, and multiply it until it begins to feel more like memory than melody. Something blurry, shifting, difficult to grasp.” The origins of the album were born at a time when Cervantes was seeking inner calm amidst a relentless external noise, questioning the validity or possibility of memory and its radically changing perception in relation to experience. Subsequent reflection on this contemplative moment allowed her to develop a relational music which moves through memory, erosion, repetition, and emotional ambiguity. Creating a space that feels both intimate and unstable, mercurial with the patina of lived imperfection.

Akin to the unreliable narrator and linguistic instability, each piece functions as an emotional landscape suspended between clarity and confusion. An album which balances melody, brutality, fragility and noise
throughout its sprawling recordings and artwork, which operates as an analogue to the music. The visual world of the album developed in collaboration with Mauro Ventura was compiled across various media with a mix of handwritten texts, burned typography, metallic textures, and fragile physical materials. “I wanted the record to feel tactile and imperfect — something emotionally direct but physically worn.” says Cervantes. More than offering explanations, verdad y error exists as a conversation between memory and disappearance, noise and stillness, truth and error.

Without turning anything upside down, the trio has released their second album, gracefully deepening the unique path they have carved out for themselves. It is an album that already stands in stark contrast to the attention-deficit culture of our times. Indeed, whilst music sometimes seeks to concentrate the intensity of its references and artefacts, the trio takes a step back, deploying an intensity that is subtly distributed. Thanks to their progressive instrumental tracks blending elements inherited from dub, jazz, folk and even musique concrète, the trio has never allowed the quality of their music to suffer from their experimentation; at the same time, they have never been afraid to venture off the beaten track to achieve the sound they desire. Every single track of this album cast like fragile bridges over various landscapes that explore cycles and the natural rhythm within. It is up to the listener to tread carefully and not lose their footing and embrace the cinematic movement of this music. The three artists have indeed achieved a musical expression so free that it possesses the power of illusion. We are suddenly swept up in all these illusions, to the point where our memories are in flux. Both haunting and in motion, this trio’s music offers an impregnable mental retreat and an invitation to dance. This album conveys a dreamlike conviction that time, in its relentless flight, might—if only for a moment—be brought to a halt. A halt that awaits you.

Words by Carl Åhnebrink

“I marvel afresh at Béla’s extraordinary vision, his indefatigability as a creator, his galvanizing presence as a bandleader, and of course, his freaking banjo playing. Live Heart will reverberate through and energize the bluegrass community forever.” – Chris Thile Live Heart: My Bluegrass Heart at the Ryman is a 3LP set that captures one legendary night in bluegrass. On January 8, 2022, in the aftermath of a Nashville blizzard, Béla Fleck was joined by three generations of renowned players who together brought the fire: Sam Bush, Michael Cleveland, Jerry Douglas, Stuart Duncan, Sierra Hull, Edgar Meyer, Justin Moses, Mark Schatz, Billy Strings, Bryan Sutton, Tony Trischka, and Molly Tuttle. The celebrated banjo virtuoso and musical adventurer has both dug deep into his instrument's complex global history and unlocked the breadth of its possibilities. He has earned 19 Grammy awards, and his acclaimed studio album My Bluegrass Heart, was a homecoming in sound. The music Fleck composed for his GRAMMY-winning My Bluegrass Heart is the third chapter in a decades-spanning trilogy that began with 1888’s Drive and the Bluegrass Sessions in 1999. This live record encompasses bluegrass in its core – the intergenerational passing down of music – and is nothing short of a masterpiece in sound, artistry, and community.

Fused around saxophonist Ornella Noulet and a shared devotion to the spiritual jazz of John Coltrane, OLA TUNJI is a Brussels-based quartet whose music channels the intensity and openness of the 1960s “New Thing” movement.

Deeply inspired by John and Alice Coltrane, Pharoah Sanders, and Albert Ayler, the group embraces improvisation as a political and spiritual act. On stage, their performances often take on a trance-like intensity, carrying musicians and audience alike toward a sense of shared elevation. The music becomes a reminder that it can still be a medium for love, sister and brotherhood, and collective uplift.

Debut album ‘TRUST’ was born from a long artistic and spiritual journey, with music playing a central role as a space for inner exploration. Trust, a key concept for the group, lies at the foundation of this journey. The album’s title embodies an approach rooted in self-awareness, connection, and the sharing of love.

‘TRUST’ presents itself as a cohesive body of work, moving through moments of intensity, calm, spirituality and joy, each track contributes to a shared intention: to remind us that personal transformation is the starting point for a more authentic relationship with ourselves, with others and with the world around us.

Compositions such as ‘DEVOTION,’ WE CHOOSE LOVE’ and ‘SPEAK UP! (YOUR VOICE IS YOUR STRENGTH)’ reveal the album’s guiding thread: self-knowledge, resilience and the awakening of consciousness. Each track invites the listener to reconnect with their inner voice, cultivating a deeper sense of awareness and view of the world through a lens of reflection and humanity. Modal and physical, the album is built on long-form playing and moves between a deeply meditative and ecstatic sound.

Tenuous Links welcomes Torino’s very own VIOLA to the label with his new ‘Wrinkles’ EP. As the label owner of Reflue Records, VIOLA first caught my attention with his debut full-length release, a body of work that showcased a deep, rugged sound and a clear technical prowess shaped by his surroundings rugged coastlines and industrial landscapes of Torino in northern Italy. After speaking with Cristiano for over a year, it felt like a natural progression to bring his music to Tenuous Links. “The music I write almost always functions as a visceral soundtrack to whatever environment surrounds and infects me while I'm creating. Deeply rooted in the architectural contrasts of the places I’ve inhabited.”

‘Wrinkles’ is VIOLA’s second full-length body of work, yet the years of graft and dedication behind it are immediately apparent. Across three original tracks and a remix from London’s Jay Duncan, the EP delivers pure grit and crunch, inhabiting large, cavernous atmospheres grounded by pummelling bass, dynamic drums and intricate rhythmic detail.

The title track ‘Wrinkles’ is an ode to club spaces and the scene that revolves around them. Its broken rhythm channels the dancefloors of Cristiano’s formative years, spent partying in abandoned bunkers and warehouses in and around Torino. VIOLA explains: “Crafting such a raw, gritty bassline felt like an absolute necessity during the writing process, retracing memories of long nights spent dancing in silence.” The track’s cavernous atmosphere mirrors those pitch-black, unlit spaces, drawing us deeper and deeper into the abyss, with only brief glimmers of light offering reprieve from its relentless, all-enveloping bassline.

‘Mon Tom’ draws heavily from VIOLA’s hometown and his complicated relationship with Torino ,a city where tranquillity and beauty sit alongside heavy industry. The calm of the coastline is violently interrupted by vast steelworks and plumes of black smoke, leaving an imposing industrial mark on both the landscape and its people. The track reflects these contrasts. Metallic yet fluid, it moves at a faster pace, built around a driving 4/4 rhythm designed to suspend the listener while skittering percussion creates an increasingly uneasy sense of movement. It’s a meeting point between the beauty and brutality of the environment that inspired it.

‘P Maggiore’ was written between 2019 and 2020 while VIOLA was living in Rome’s chaotic Porta Maggiore district. Surrounded day and night by the grinding noise of trains, screeching tram brakes and beaten metal, he translated those raw auditory memories directly into high-pressure sound design. Yet, in contrast to the intensity of his surroundings, VIOLA deliberately pulls back the tempo.

Rounding off the EP is a skeletal remix of ‘Wrinkles’ from London’s Jay Duncan. She strips the original back into a techy, rolling cut, retaining its atmosphere and darkness while introducing a lighter touch of minimal-esque sound design. The result is a subtly transformed take on the title track that provides a fitting conclusion to the EP.

‘Wrinkles’ EP is a record shaped by place, by architecture, industry, memory and the physical spaces that leave their mark on us. From Torino’s industrial coastline to the chaos of Rome and the darkness of abandoned club spaces, VIOLA turns his surroundings into sound. Coming to vinyl and digital October 16th of October.

For over 25 years, David Madson (aka Odd Nosdam) has been stationed away from the light of the mainstream, diligently working the nightshift. Every so often, we awake to find another of his bleary and beautiful missives slung into the waking world – albums whose assemblages of sampled grooves, atmospheres and voices are unified by a hallucinatory sense of melody, like disparate visions strung together through ribbons of sleep-talk. From his earliest days as a member of the seminal group cLOUDDEAD, through his remixes for artists such as Boards of Canada and Black Moth Super Rainbow, Nosdam has been reporting back from his rounds upon the perimeters of culture and consciousness, forging a musical language all of his own.

On Patrol is the second Odd Nosdam LP to be released on The Notwist’s imprint Alien Transistor – following on from the 2019 album Mirrors – and continues a collaborative history that begun with a 2008 remix of The Notwist song, “Sleep”. It’s a love letter to the vinyl format, produced with the aim of optimizing for a single LP. This objective permeated every aspect of the album’s production, from the duration of each side through to the vinyl mastering (Jessica Thompson) and lacquer-cutting (Dubplates & Mastering, Berlin). As we've come to expect, the album is built almost entirely from found sounds, many of which were taken from obscure and second-hand vinyl gathered during Nosdam’s ceaseless crate-digging escapades. Other sources include field recordings made in 2022 at the Catalonia summer home of artist Salvador Dalí, which are baked into the swirling sci-fi glide of “Here to Know (Adéu Mix)”, and a sumptuous clunking bass line courtesy of Organi’s Mike Walti, which runs like an infinite highway through the fuzzy, sunbaked sprawl of “Deepsimple”.

Odd Nosdam’s work has always swept the entire atmospheric spectrum, from rhythmic vigour to levitational beauty. On Patrol is perhaps his finest assimilation of these extremes. “Sgt. Pepsi” is the perfect case in point: a formidable slow groove capsizes into vinyl crackle after a mere minute, before the song resurrects itself through sweeping strings and vocal harmonies, sliding against each other like the overlain romantic denouements to a dozen Hollywood films from the 1940s. Elsewhere, “Get You In (Belong Mix)” drapes shoegaze guitar over a trundling funk backbeat, straddling the physical world and the outer realms, while hushed voices point toward the song's implied themes of cultural cliques, critical consensus and the plight of the eternal outsider: “Sure, I can get you in... these people are my friends, I’m one of them - I belong.”

This is music that both endures and disappears. Odd Nosdam has always wielded a strange relationship with time, scrambling association with any specific era, weaving together numerous tempos simultaneously. There is no master clock. Each track could happily hold up as an infinite loop, yet Nosdam clearly favours the potency of the gone-too-soon, applying the fadeout just as hypnosis starts to crest. Indeed, the songs are both the product of meticulous long-term construction and spontaneity. While the foundations of On Patrol have come together over several years, the recording process involved channeling vibes through a vintage Roland Space Echo and bouncing song fragments back and forth from hard disk to cassette 8-track, gifting a phased permanence to creative decisions made on the fly – a hat-tip to the production processes of Nosdam's longtime hero, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. Like a recurring dream, On Patrol appeals to both the plains of momentary ephemera and the long-established backchannels of the unconscious, equal parts revelation and deja vu.

Text by Jack Chuter
Artwork by Ian Ferguson

4/5 REVIEW IN MOJO: “HEARTBEAT TONES DISSOLVE INTO BEAUTEOUS SHIMMER AND STELLAR SYNTH MEDITATIONS GIVE WAY TO CAREFULLY ORCHESTRATED ELECTRONICA.”

4/5 REVIEW IN UNCUT: “IT'S MASTERFUL, THOUGH IT WILL LEAVE YOU FEELING LIKE A SPECK OF GRAVEL IN A SELF-DESTRUCTING WORLD.”

NME - 8/10 review (w/c 14 October) "He’s mastered this stylistic skittishness and you’ll do well to find much dispute about his talent."

NARC - 5/5 review (October issue) "An immersive soundtrack to your own personal psychodrama."

WIRE - ONE PAGE REVIEW (October issue) "The sentiments it stirs to life are shadowed and ambiguous, simultaneously personal and impersonal. It is also fantastically immersive, dragging the listener into its turbulent undertows, then washing them back on dry land, intact but changed.’’

Virgins was recorded during three periods in 2012, mostly in Reykjavik, Montreal and Seattle, using ensembles in live performance.

While this album remains committed to a painterly form of musical abstraction, it is also a record of restrained composition recorded live primarily in intimate studio rooms. This record employs woodwinds, piano and synthesizers towards an effort at doing what digital music does not do naturally—making music that is out of time, out of tune and out of phase.

Some pieces go off the rails before forming into anything, others eschew crescendo
compositional structures or bombastic density while going sideways instead. It points to the ongoing development of Hecker's work. It suggests illusory memories of drug- hazed jams or communal music performance that may have never been performed or been heard.

It is an offering of music into the void, a gift of digital filler between distractions. Yet hopefully it also stands as a document of the enduring faith in the narcotic, enigmatic function of music as long-form expression.

Mixed by Valgeir Sigurðsson and Tim Hecker. Additional assistance by Randall Dunn and Ben Frost. Mastered by Mandy Parnell at Black Saloon Studios in London, UK.

Madelyn Byrd returns to Glasgow’s Somewhere Press with a hazed set of weightless soundscapes. »Night Rider« opens in widescreen with the chirp of cicadas dancing across a desert landscape, before Shiroishi’s saxophone eventually cuts through the dark like neon. The story Byrd tells is close to their heart: they spent their teenage years in the Sonoran Desert, the vast subtropical expanse spanning parts of Arizona, California, and Mexico. Its seemingly alien landscape — pocked with giant, tree-like cacti and looming rocky outcrops — is lodged in the cultural memory, a quality Byrd draws on as they slowly reveal their poetic narrative.

The album plays like a road movie of sorts, moving through Byrd’s memories and setting them to very different rhythms. Clattering drums emerge on »Of Nature, Of Bodies, Of Dreams«, while Byrd’s soft tones, processed to sound almost otherworldly, glide gently across the metallic clangs. Each track highlights a form of movement: there is the microscopic, insectoid crunch of »Imprint«, where guitar prangs meet Shiroishi’s spirited runs, while »Into Sonoran Pool« creates motion from the atmosphere itself, recreating the thick desert air with shimmering electrical currents and psychedelic processes.

At this point, the album begins to echo Robert Ashley’s late-period theatrical work: compositions that broke with familiar formats, juxtaposing dialogue with knowingly experimental orchestral flourishes. Byrd strikes a similar note through a fusion of poetry, sound design, choral music, and chiming, listless ambient elements that also recall Harold Budd. Budd grew up in the Mojave Desert, which borders the Sonoran, creating an eerie parallel with the moods he conjured throughout his long career.

Byrd finds a similarly aesthetic link to the West Coast landscape, referencing the history of experimental music while establishing their own voice. As the album rides into the sunset with a roar of engines, they offer a distinct vision of pop: »What Is, What Was« integrates a chugging break and ketamised vocal hook, while the finale, »In Perfume, Remember«, lands as a James K-like heartmelter.

Leading the charge was a young band from West London called Pressure Point, whose debut single Mellow Moods caused a real stir on its release in 1985. The Stan Getz-inspired bossa nova was released initially on Viceroy Records, and immediately punched well above its weight, thanks to the considerable talents of producer Steve James, vocalist Lydia Gayle and some of London's leading session musicians: saxophonists Jamie Talbot and Ian Trimmer, trumpeter Steve Sidwell and his brother, trombonist Neil, and keyboard player Simon Etchells. It quickly became Capital Radio's 'People's Choice', winning praise on air from the likes of Kid Creole himself - August Darnell - and went on to be re-released by Bellaphon in Germany and by Gilles Peterson's HardBack Records. It is widely viewed as a rare groove classic, with copies changing hands for hefty sums in the following decades. London- based Pressure Point's core members were Matthew Best, Anthony 'Hugo' Longden and Sean Maher, who went on to work with Soul Legend Miss PP Arnold to complete 'Dreaming', a now legendary and as yet unreleased 1989 album

To mark ‘PUNK50’ (1976-2026) Mal-One has pulled his ‘Future Nostalgia’ track for 12” release. To remind us all that there is nothing wrong with nostalgia and looking back at events that have shaped our lives. Our collective futures are built on the actions of our pasts. As the lyric points out in the song:

‘Future Nostalgia we carry all our pasts’ Future Nostalgia

Also to enhance this release he has added an exclusive dub mix of the tune ‘Future Dub’. The flip side has taken two tracks from his forthcoming dub album ‘Punk Dub Sessions’. ‘Dub King’ is a version of his ’God Save The King’ track an update to the Sex Pistols ‘God Save The Queen’ and ‘Holiday Dub’ a version to his ‘Holiday In Someone Else’s Misery’ track. Which tells the story of the Sex Pistols ‘Holiday In The Sun’ release.

Hope you enjoy the Future Nostalgia journey and the dub excursions.

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

„Öd“ marks the long-awaited return of Institut für Feinmotorik - the Black Forest collective known for using eight prepared turntables to investigate acoustic micro-phenomena generated by everyday objects - with a new album and their first full-length release on Faitiche. It is also the return of their almost comical understatement as personal artistic principle: „making almost nothing out of almost nothing,“ compressed into the dots on an umlaut.

The Öd-nis, the wasteland, is a field that the collective has been ploughing in sound since their first release in 1997. Eight prepared turntables, four mixers, no records, six hands (give or take) merge into what they call the „Octogrammoticum“. A rotating organism of surfaces in friction, fed with the clutter from a drawer: rubber bands or tin foil, CDs, a discarded socket board. Under IFF's scrutinizing stylus, mundane almost-nothings get scratched open to reveal the acoustic density of negative space itself.

Last year’s „Adhesive Tape“ drew IFF closer together after an almost ten-year hiatus. An eponymous event series at Berlin's silent green set in motion what would become their most twistedly funky release since „Penetrans“ on Staubgold in 2002.

The only thing öd about „Öd" (meaning „barren" or „boring“ in German) may well be its title: layers of improvised play and randomized loops convolve around porous, dubby groove locks, tugging at each other in a call-and-response with howling static that cuts through bulbous ambient techno into a scrap-metal Dixieland phantasm. Stratified yet spacious, these sonic double exposures always hover on the verge of collapsing. What you think you hear might not be what you actually hear.

The album’s track titles resemble Conceptual Poetry, extending this psycho-phenomenological gesture into the realm of spoken language. Conceived by renowned poet Dagmara Kraus, they become word molecules - „stern,” „dies,” „lose“ - tilting delicately between German and English, constantly changing depending on the ear’s perspective and pointing back to the deeply unstable fabric connecting meaning and sound. Which also makes „Öd“ an unusual cross-disciplinary collaboration - at least in the field of electronic music.

PS: Since its beginnings in Bad Säckingen, IFF has always been more than the sum of its rotating parts, moving tirelessly between multimedia art, theory, solo projects and collaborations. With IFF Expanded, the collective now opens its eight-doored apparatus, inviting artists working with CDJs or samplers to join - an ambitious live format that loosens its former purity law while carrying forward a long-standing curatorial practice. The same thread also runs into the related event series Acephalic Headspace.

Institut für Feinmotorik (*1997), artist-group originating from Black Forest working in various fields. In musical context known for transforming turntables into instruments by removing the records and instead applying rubber bands, paper scraps, household materials – resulting in a vivid laboratory for the productive misuse of everyday objects. This approach is documented in record releases and performed live.

A space is often described by its dimensions. The height of the ceiling, the expanse between walls. Division into functional elements of varying density follows. We have ideas of how such dimensions should be balanced to work well for sound — the classical concert hall, a Northward mastering room.

It’s tempting to try and use this idea of space to understand Space the group (Lisa Ullén, Elsa Bergman, Anna Lund). To calculate their cartesian co-ordinates: dynamics that run from whisper soft to punishing, shaking force; Ullén’s piano running the full expanse of the frequency spectrum; the mix of sudden, surprising and suggested variations in density (the space) that generates their musical structures.

But (a) space is a social phenomenon where meaning is accumulated and possibilities created by and through a constantly shifting set of social relations and their histories and entanglement inside and beyond the physical structures of a room or building. Reduced to its raw dimensions, Cafe OTO shouldn’t sound good: the low ceiling, the hollow void underneath the stage-not-stage, the hard glass windows out onto the street. But OTO as a social space — for gathering close to listen; the serious pursuit of a convivial good time (its productive mythology that an OTO audience is both up for it but also expects more); and then the idea of all that has happened before and what will come; that this is also part of ‘the music’ and changes what sounds to the point that none of those cartesian co-ordinates matter.**

It’s less of shock that Space sound good. Lisa Ullén is easily the most singular pianist in Sweden right now and Elsa and Anna’s ability to reroute in realtime reaffirms just how well they function as a group. The trio might have got their shit together holding down the rhythm section for the first incarnation of Anna Högberg Attack — but much like Högberg’s ongoing pursuit of artistic renewal, the trio avoid being shackled to any ideas about what a piano trio should be and there is something that happens (happened) in that room, on that night, with those people that made for something beyond just good.

It’s a gift that the sound of every concert at OTO gets recorded. A choice handful of these transcend their decoupling from that social space and radiate the room’s attendant energies. This record is one of them.

** See Jack Halberstam in Fred Moten & Stefano Harney, The Undercommons (2013): “…we must refuse the idea that music happens only when the musician enters and picks up an instrument; music is also the anticipation of the performance and the noises of appreciation it generates and the speaking that happens through and around it, making it and loving it, being in it while listening."

Five years after establishing himself as one of the UK's most distinctive selectors, Bloom marks the beginning of a new chapter for Yung Singh. More than a debut EP, it introduces EKTA his own label and creative world, built around the Panjabi concept of unity and the belief that dance music can be a meeting point for cultures, histories and new ideas.

Rather than treating heritage as something to preserve behind glass, Bloom places it at the centre of contemporary club music. Drawing inspiration from Panjabi folk traditions, Indian classical rhythms and centuries-old musical practices, Singh reimagines these influences through a modern electronic framework without reducing them to nostalgia or tokenism. The visual identity mirrors this philosophy, taking cues from Phulkari embroidery "flower work" passed down through his own family and connecting those traditions with the idea of growth, renewal and the arrival of a new creative season.

Finalised while touring Panjab during Basant, the festival celebrating the arrival of spring, Bloom became both a personal and artistic statement: the first release on a label intended not to represent one culture alone, but to create space for many. As Singh explains:

"EKTA as a name really sums up what I love about music and arts in general: unity and oneness. I want the label to be a sonic universe where artists bring their specific heritage into a modern club framework. It's about merging diverse folk traditions to treat these sounds not as relics, but as the future of dance music."

Across three tracks, Bloom presents different perspectives of that vision. 'NUG46' transforms field recordings captured in New Zealand into a meditative piece built around hypnotic tabla and razor-sharp jungle rhythms. 'Situationz' pays tribute to legendary Panjabi artist Sukshinder Shinda through the driving "Shinda Break", recontextualising a rhythm instantly recognisable to generations of listeners into a high-energy club weapon. Closing the record, 'Tabla Trouble' leans fully into organic instrumentation, layering classical percussion, strings, flutes and vocals into a composition that defines the open-ended musical language of EKTA.

Bloom is not simply the first release on a new label. It is the foundation of a wider vision one that looks to the past not for comfort, but for inspiration, using tradition as a catalyst for imagining the future of dance music.

World Of Echo are proud to announce the long-awaited reissue of the self-titled debut album by Bristol’s Movietone. Originally released in 1995 by Planet Records and reissued on CD in 2003 by The Pastels’ Geographic Music imprint, this is the first time Movietone has been reissued on vinyl. An expanded double-LP edition, it includes the extra tracks from the 2003 CD (their first two singles, and an unreleased demo of “Chance Is Her Opera”), and adds three more unearthed gems: demos of “Alkaline Eye” and “She Smiled Mandarine Like”, and an early take of “Late July”, recorded in a garden by Dave Pearce (Flying Saucer Attack) in 1993.

Taken together, this is the definitive collection of music from the first phase of one of Bristol’s most remarkable groups. Movietone was the cumulation of a series of events, explorations, and discoveries, starting at secondary school – the group’s core membership of Kate Wright, Rachel Brook, Matt Elliott and Matt Jones met at Cotham School in Bristol. As for many other groups, their early years were all about experimenting, and finding ways to ‘make do’, a DIY sensibility that would inform Movietone through their decade-long lifespan. From formative rehearsals in a shed in the garden of Brook’s family home, to recording early material to four-track in Redland Library, and on into the Whitehouse and Mr Grin’s studio sessions for their debut album, Movietone’s music fell together in a creatively unpredictable, yet conceptually rigorous manner.

By the time they released Movietone, they’d found a home with Bristol’s Planet, run by author Richard King and James Webster, who had both released their first two singles, “She Smiled Mandarine Like” and “Mono Valley”. There was other music happening around them in Bristol, too, from the Jones brothers’ avant-rock outfit Crescent (who were Movietone’s closest conspirators), through Elliott’s jungle/electronica project Third Eye Foundation, and Brook and Elliott’s membership of Flying Saucer Attack. A closely knit community, Movietone are the centre of this nestling architecture of groups. The vision in the music, mostly, belongs to Wright, but Movietone ran in democratic creative consort. Listening back to Movietone, you can hear this democracy in action through the wildness of the music, which is balanced by the poetics of Wright’s lyrics and melodies.

Full of half-captured memories and entangled abstractions, there’s an elliptical, ruminative quality to much of the writing here that shows the deep influence of the Beat Generation writers, along with a twilight environment captured in the songs that’s pure third-album Velvets, Galaxie 500, early Tindersticks, Codeine. Unpredictable interventions – the crashing glass in “Mono Valley”, the sudden explosions of “Orange Zero” point towards the noise blowouts of My Bloody Valentine, the unpredictability of Sonic Youth; Wright’s understated vocal cadence suggest a deep, embodied understanding of John Cage’s Indeterminacy.

Movietone would go on to make 3 fantastic albums for Domino: Night & Day (1997), The Blossom Filled Streets (2000) and The Sand & The Stars (2003) and their Peel Sessions were released earlier this year on Textile. Still held in high regard by artists like Steven R. Smith, and The Pastels, whose Stephen McRobbie once described them as “one of the great unknown English groups,” it’s an absolute thrill to listen to Movietone anew – still inspired, still seductive, still magic, still mysterious.

VRIL returns to Delsin with KRUX. The crucial point, the moment where everything converges. On KRUX, a new direction was chosen, built on the strong foundation of VRIL's dub-driven sound. For the first time, VRIL presents multiple artist collaborations on his new album. Working closely with friends and fellow musicians has been a crucial part of shaping KRUX where five collaborations with Aurora Halal, Verraco, Rene Wise, AZARI and ATEQ form the core of a 13-track journey. Framed once again by the visionary artwork of Daniel Martin Diaz, KRUX captures a moment of convergence: between generations, humans and machines. Fusing past, present and future into a singular moment.

SPF 50 returns to Bliss Point with Ett Inre Rum, a collection of pulsing, immersive techno, rounded out with a remix from renowned club synthesist Erik Luebs.

Recently enamored with the psychoacoustic power of drone, Ett Inre Rum finds SPF 50 pushing his sound deeper, heavier, and more psychedelic. With Ett Inre Rum, he explores sonics that connect internal states to the external spaces we inhabit, patiently building energy until the walls are stretching, the room is heaving, and the lines between inner and outer are thoroughly blurred.

Drawing inspiration from the natural world and culled from over a year of peak time live sets, Ett Inre Rum eschews dance floor tropes for a refreshing minimalism: club tracks as enveloping sonic environments, breathing deep as they propel forward through atmospheric washes, layered and manipulated to achieve peak emotional resonance.

Featuring a collection of 10-new tracks produced by Boney, the album marks a high point in the chart- topping, smooth jazz icon's remarkable three- decade career, one that includes a long list of accolades; four GRAMMY nominations, three NAACP Image Award nominations, a Soul Train Award for Best Jazz Album and four RIAA Gold Record certifications, to name just a few. A Simple Man also features guest contributions from guitarist Larry Carlton, trumpeter Marquis Hill and vocalist Ledisi.

For ten years Spike Fuck has existed more as a messy myth than an art- ist; sporadic works forever poised on the precipice of triumph, rumours of death or insanity and so on. Spike’s mission is to distill the sacred and profane, balancing the melancholy and humour of life; “to be alive is to be traumatised.” Luckily, the devotion to his music persevered, some- what bolstered by his inconsistency and inaccessibility. This inexplicable goodwill towards his artistry is perhaps partly due to Spike’s timeless, pained and confessional lyricism, though more pointedly, the fragility of a life mired in addiction. His being or works does not question the virtue of life, but simply addresses the numb, pragmatic and far more immediate matter of surviving another day, an almost ineffable senti- ment only justified by his distinct, poetic audaciousness. Free from his arresting thoughts, evidence, the long anticipated debut album, is a bra- zen proof of life statement. Convicted by the outlandish idea of evidenc- ing a ‘you had to be there’ mentality, the record honours the presence in body, a record to be felt, never to be rationalized.

The material on evidence touches on elements of new wave, glam, soul and doo-wop, citing Pere Ubu, New York Dolls, The Temptations and Bettye Swan as key influences. Melodically it emits the energy of a down- and-out CBGBs band who cashes in by recording a lucrative Christmas album.

Spike frequently uses sonic and lyrical juxtapositions to perform comic twists of sincerity, a reflection of society's obsession with ‘getting a rise’. On “Bored to Death,” a scuzzy, laidback and soulful tune, paired with morbid ragebait lyrics that payoff as a stand up joke “when I look up at the sun it makes me so happy cause I know one day it’s gonna kill me, and it’ll kill you too!” Lead single “All By Myself” carries on in this fashion; with feelgood, family-friendly punk doo-wop production, Spike is misleading on if his joy comes from the pride in solitude, or from lone- liness and a ‘give me everything’ mentality in the act of shooting heroin. The vocal performances oscillate between being blasé, vulnerable and manic; “Sweet Release” meets power-ballad criteria solely due to Spike’s deteriorating cries into the void, the jittery delivery on “Getting Sober” embodies religious fanaticism while sounding like a pop song written by Suicide for a David Lynch film.

evidence is an album that lives outside the limits of discourse; its purpose is eponymous and self-evident. It is what it is, and is subject to interpretation. There is no point in interrogating attachments, virtue or value. The only rightful way to live is to be.

a 01. CAN'T GET IT UP 4:38
b 02. HAD YOUR WAY 4:04
[c] 03. SWEET RELEASE [3:27]
[d] 04. BORED TO DEATH [3:31]
[e] 05. ALL BY MYSELF [2:38]
[f] 06. GETTING SOBER [3:33]
[g] 07. BLUELIGHT[4:35]
[h] 08. HATE ME [7:44]

[a] 01. CAN'T GET IT UP [4:38]
[b] 02. HAD YOUR WAY [4:04]
[c] 03. SWEET RELEASE [3:27]
[d] 04. BORED TO DEATH [3:31]
[e] 05. ALL BY MYSELF [2:38]
[f] 06. GETTING SOBER [3:33]
[g] 07. BLUELIGHT[4:35]
[h] 08. HATE ME [7:44]

[a] 01. CAN'T GET IT UP [4:38]
[b] 02. HAD YOUR WAY [4:04]
[c] 03. SWEET RELEASE [3:27]
[d] 04. BORED TO DEATH [3:31]
[e] 05. ALL BY MYSELF [2:38]
[f] 06. GETTING SOBER [3:33]
[g] 07. BLUELIGHT[4:35]
[h] 08. HATE ME [7:44]

[a] 01. CAN'T GET IT UP [4:38]
[b] 02. HAD YOUR WAY [4:04]
[c] 03. SWEET RELEASE [3:27]
[d] 04. BORED TO DEATH [3:31]
[e] 05. ALL BY MYSELF [2:38]
[f] 06. GETTING SOBER [3:33]
[g] 07. BLUELIGHT[4:35]
[h] 08. HATE ME [7:44]

[a] 01. CAN'T GET IT UP [4:38]
[b] 02. HAD YOUR WAY [4:04]
[c] 03. SWEET RELEASE [3:27]
[d] 04. BORED TO DEATH [3:31]
[e] 05. ALL BY MYSELF [2:38]
[f] 06. GETTING SOBER [3:33]
[g] 07. BLUELIGHT[4:35]
[h] 08. HATE ME [7:44]

IVM Trio is made up of percussionist & composer Sébastien Forrester, producer & visual artist Mika Oki, and artist & producer Apulati Bien. All three sit within the French-Brussels axis, united by a shared love of free improvisation, sparse atmospherics and rapturous club mutations. Inner Voice Movement is a genuinely exploratory record — abstraction and contemplation sit side by side, as the trio dives into the micro-precision of computer music while mirroring organic, environmental schemes. These have long been persistent points of study for all three artists.

Arriving on Accidental Meetings, their debut album has been a long time coming, and it features three outstanding vocalists. South Korean artist bela brings the depth and range of their guttural vocals; Bristol-based Grove, a leading voice in punk-dancehall crossover, pulls things back with a spoken-word feature; and Naples sound artist Sara Persico rounds things off with a stunning excerpt of storytelling.

Eine neue, transparent blaue 2LP-Variante dieses legendären Soundtracks anlässlich des 30-jährigen Jubiläums von Danny Elfmans Filmmusik zum Blockbuster „Mission: Impossible“ aus dem Jahr 1996.
Sie enthält das unverkennbare „Mission: Impossible“-Thema, das ursprünglich von Lalo Schifrin für die
Fernsehserie aus den 1960er Jahren komponiert und von Elfman für den ersten Film der Action-Reihe
mit Tom Cruise neu arrangiert wurde. Das Thema ist bekannt für seinen spannungsgeladenen Rhythmus
mit einer ungewöhnlichen 5/4-Taktart und das berühmte Vier-Noten-Motiv, das das Stück eröffnet: eine
musikalische Anspielung auf das Morsecode-Muster für die Buchstaben M.I. (‐‐ ··). Diese raffnierte Verschlüsselung verbindet das Thema nicht nur direkt mit dem Titel, sondern verstärkt auch die Atmosphäre
aus geheimer Kommunikation, verdeckten Operationen und Rätseln, die die Welt von „Mission: Impossible“
prägt

Following one of 2025’s standout EPs, the CEO of the National Centre for Mark Fell Studies fires from the hip in brilliant, club-troubling motion. In step with 30 years of prism-pushing work — and particularly the »Nite Closures« EP, which signalled a concerted return to the dancefloor — Fell pulls aspects of hypermodern dance and electronic music from Chicago, Tanzania, and Japan into his own peculiar agenda.

The hugely distinctive results pull the body into thrillingly unusual, typically ascetic arrangements, activating every pointillist drum hit with attack and decay in a soberly ludic play of rhythmelodic tension and release, executed to delirious ends; 40 minutes of computer music.

As an artist who witnessed first-hand the explosion of electronic music in early ’80s Sheffield, and its interplay with house and rave as it refracted into wild new styles during the ’90s, Mark Fell is uniquely positioned to pursue his passion for the dynamics of electronic dance music to the nth degree. »Servitude In Context« continues to develop ideas around music for movement in the mid-2020s, placing decades of keen observation — from the macro and historical to the niche and hypermodern — at the service of flexing bodies in new directions.

Long-held notions of multistability manifest in what feels like two machines playing chess on the dancefloor, attempting to adapt to each other’s playing styles and patterns in real time, anticipating and zigzagging around the next move. The result is a plethora of options for limber dancers and those who only bust a move inside their heads.

The slow-fast play of accelerating and decelerating strikes, alongside monotonic chatter in »Actuations #1 (Extended)«, acclimatises the body to a uniquely sensual physics. This develops into the rudely screwed, asymmetric angularity of »Time-Slur« and the shatterproof elasticity of »Taut Manifold«, which feels like an LLM trained on Autechre.

»Low Energy Mantra« offers the EP’s closest resemblance to melodic structure, like gamelan and footwork refracted through lab-grown diamonds. Then »Anode« flashes its teeth with a rudeness recalling the latter stages of Fell’s Pat Thomas jams, before »3 Lost Contours (Pts 1–5)« tilts into 12 minutes of proper quicksilver madness, balancing the sexiness of his Sensate Focus work with an updated, clean-hoofed step and parry.

Ecstatic’s dreamiest cadets bliss out on a new album of acoustic and electric guitar, harmonium and synth tapestries, notably nestling a Romance cameo within a genteel toggle of atmospheric pressure.

Back on (side) road after releasing quietly acclaimed kosmische gem ‘I Had too Much to Dream Last Night’ back in 2021 and the lysergic lushness of ‘Listen to the Sky’ a couple of years later, Celestial suggest a more sublime return to earth with the shine-eyed wonders of ‘I Can Hear the Grass Grow’, an album that soothes to the supine in eight shimmering parts of pearlescent melodic motifs marbling harmonious backdrops intended to tenderly comb nerves straight.

The duo take their role as seductive sandmen with a curious melodic wit that leaves something to the imagination whilst nudging it along the album’s narrative thread. A courtly flamenco lick flickers in opener ‘The Endless Stair’, one of the most restrained recordings we've heard from the childhood friends; blessed with just a little reverb and echo, as if a mic's been lowered into some dimly lit basement while Celestial puzzle out mystifying, interlocking harmonies. It hits a mid-point between John Fahey's raga-inspired Americana and Vini Reilly's rain-soaked Northern blues - the emotion throbs from every note.

Celestial's music is never too polished, giving it the fuzzy, uninhibited flair of a long-lost mail order private press and instilling it with a level of humanity that's rare to discover in the new-new age. Even when mysterious labelmate Romance turns up to ornament 'Mermaid Boulevard' with backmasked electronics, it's their low-slung Ry Cooder-esque guitar/bass that provides the narrative anchor, while the title track and spongiform analog textures of ‘Song For The rainy Season’ dial it right down to a Harmonia-via-BoC pastoral sublime. Vini Reilly and Eno’s influence is most surely felt on the swaying elegance of ‘Sweet Sleep, Angel Mild’, with a central motif that lingers on the mind long after it’s stopped playing, whilst their closing couplet perfectly resolves the cycle with a melancholic kiss-off for the ages.

1982 4-Piece Demo' is the first official, fully-licensed and unreleased material to be released under the name Strawberry Switchblade in 30 years. Since disbanding amid major record label acrimony and personal differences in 1986, the already-cult band have since grown in stature and legend. Trailblazers in many ways, the band's mythology justifiably centers around the charismatic duo of Jill Bryson and Rose McDowall, but that isn't a complete picture. Bryson and McDowall's growing friendship, having met some years earlier on the punk scene, became a creative partnership: Bryson's art school background and McDowall's history in avant-punk group The Poets meant Strawberry Switchblade was a band pitted against many established norms. The band's very first incarnation, an all-female 4 piece, recorded one demo at Glasgow's Hellfire Club and played a handful of gigs. Friends Janice Goodlett and Carole McGowan completed the line up on bass and drums respectively. Strawberry Switchblade would eventually pair down to a duo and go on to chart success but it's in these raw, passionate recordings that the songwriting and vocal elements were being hammered out and explored in real time.


Spanish Song' is a previously unreleased song. With Rose McDowall's instantly recognizable lead vocal dovetailing with Bryson's harmonies and lead guitar, it's the first glimpse at an alternative history of Strawberry Switchblade. This incarnation could easily have been featured on a Nuggets compilation or a precursor to the indie-pop revolution that would take over British bedrooms a couple of years later. "Trees & Flowers" is instantly recognizable, a bona fide classic that would earn the band its first record deal. Here it's given a more forceful rhythm section: Goodlett and McGowan's playing is in fact accomplished and doesn't hint at the bands' youth. "Go Away" would also surface later on the band's debut LP but here it is a moody-garage stomper with a psychedelic, haunting refrain. These 3 songs point to a tantalizing future of the band that was never realized.


Remastered and restored by Sean Pennycook from the original cassette, with artwork based on a single photographic contact sheet (the only visual evidence of the band in this form) and with a booklet of photographs and new text. Pa

The brilliant My Point of View was Herbie Hancock’s second album for Blue Note, a 1963 session featuring an all-star lineup: Donald Byrd, Hank Mobley, Grachan Moncur III, Grant Green, Chuck Israels, and a young Tony Williams. Each track radiates a deeply engaging musicality, showcasing Hancock’s masterful arranging skills. With standout compositions like King Cobra and A Tribute to Someone, this is a timeless classic—an essential reissue not to be missed.

Originally from Bristol, England, Ben Jacobs, aka Crackazat, is a multi-Instrumentalist and electronic producer. Since his emergence on the international scene, he has quickly become recognised for his unique fusion of Jazz and House music. He now presents his latest EP, ‘The Nervous Chill’, releasing on longstanding House label Nervous's sublabel ‘Nervous Chill’.

Crackazat’s influences range from the underground hip hop of Madlib to the Jazz-funk of Jamiroquai, showcasing downtempo beats and synthfunk. In 2015, he released his debut album ‘Crescendo’ to critical acclaim, as well as forming an alliance with Swedish house label Local Talk and performing supporting sets for Bonobo and Floating Points. Crackazat’s growing popularity has led to remixes by Joey Negro, Moulinex, and Tom Misch.

He now debuts on Nervous Chill with four sophisticated and downbeat tracks. Rooted in jazz, Crackazat’s signature keyboard solos, gilded violin chords, and glistening textures blend swinging grooves with silky melodies. Wind instruments anchor the tracks without limiting versatility, paired with dynamic percussion and featherweight pads. ‘The Nervous Chill’ sees Crackazat crafting a joyous, soulful EP that works both on and off the dancefloor.

»Pipe Dreams II & III« presents two new, side-long organ works by Mary Jane Leach, extending the sonic investigations of her 1989 landmark »Pipe Dreams«. Recorded in Ghent and Cologne, the two side-long pieces use shifting stops, resonance and beating tones to turn the pipe organ into a vivid, physical field of sound.

When »Pipe Dreams« was issued on vinyl for the first time by Blume in 2017, it was effectively the first time many of us encountered Mary Jane Leach’s music, finally placing her work in its proper historical context amid the searching Downtown milieu of Julius Eastman, Arthur Russell, Arnold Dreyblatt, Ellen Fullman, Philip Corner, Daniel Goode, and Peter Zummo. Leach collaborated with most of these artists at one point or another, either in Downtown Ensemble or as a guest on their records.

Now »Pipe Dreams II« and »Pipe Dreams III« arrive, recorded in 2023 and 2024 at Miry Concertzaal in Ghent, Belgium, and Kunst-Station Sankt Peter in Cologne, respectively.

»When I was a young child, my family lived next door to a church, where my mother was the organist. I spent many hours lying on the floor of the sanctuary listening to the music, letting the sound of the organ envelop me. I also liked to play the piano loudly with the pedal down, producing clouds of sound, much to my family’s annoyance. These two organ pieces explore some of my earliest musical interests and aesthetics.

In 1989, I lived in a tower attached to St Peter’s Church in Cologne, where I had access to its organ. It had two sets of pipes, front and back, which could create antiphonal effects. I spent countless hours exploring the possibilities of all the permutations of notes, space, and the resulting sound phenomena. I wrote »Pipe Dreams« for that organ. Fast forward to 2023, when I was asked to create a piece for organ for a concert at the Miry Concertzaal in Ghent, Belgium: »Pipe Dreams II«. I had a few days to familiarise myself with the organ, its available stops, and the layout of the console. I choreographed stop changes for a volunteer, as I couldn’t reach them myself. Some amazing sounds began to happen, and at one point the sound was so visceral that I felt as though I were taming a wild beast.

»Pipe Dreams III« was performed in 2024 on the organ that I had spent so much time playing in 1989–90. One big difference, though, was that the console was totally new and computerised. Having access to the organ for only a few hours before the concert, I decided that I did not have enough time to feel comfortable with the console and should not attempt to recreate the piece I had written in 1989. I would instead use the same sequence of stops and perform an improvised piece. I loved the sounds that were being created, and I was having so much fun that at one point I even started to laugh quietly. I began to visualise the beating notes as if they were atoms, opening them up to expose their innards, with the beating, higher-pitched notes — neutrons and protons — shimmering at the top, and the lower notes — the electrons — throbbing away at the bottom. I was playing notes not so much for their pitch value, but for how they affected the notes and sound phenomena already being played. Instead of a time signature, I timed the entries by listening to the beating patterns, waiting for the right moment to enter. And no, I wasn’t hallucinating.«

Mary Jane Leach, 2026

Courant Zéro is the new moniker of Montréal multi-media installation artist and Kohlenstoff label co-founder Maxime Corbeil-Perron, signalling his return to purely recording-based electronic music production following several years focused on award-winning experimental film and audio-visual works. Solari channels his cinematic sensibility and decade-long exploration of sound art and electroacoustic counterpoint into deep cuts of maximalist ambient electronica. Drawing on his early background as a pianist and jazz drummer, Corbeil-Perron weaves a fabric of melodic and rhythmic vectors with his unique timbral palette, intersecting modern composition, IDM, ambient, glitch, and noise on a debut album brimming with sonic detail and emotive resonance. A fixture of Montréal’s sound art community as both creator and curator since the early 2010s, Corbeil-Perron’s work has ranged from “hypnotic A/V onslaught” (FACT Magazine) to the “richly nuanced acousmatic journey” of his 2018 EP Polychrome (Bandcamp Best Contemporary Classical Of The Month), with earlier electronic and techno-adjacent projects like Political Ritual, Dresden, and Le poisson d’argent garnering accolades from avant-music outlets A Closer Listen, Silence and Sound, and Musicworks, among others. Courant Zéro mobilizes this cumulative wealth of explorative sonic experience in the service of distinctive compositional architectures and electronic music pathways that fans of Floating Points, Jan Jelinek, Squarepusher, Tim Hecker, and Oneohtrix Point Never should find compelling.


Courant Zéro’s debut is a vibrant sonic rebus at the junction of electronic, electroacoustic, noise and ambient music that resists easy categorisation. Solari strikes a compelling balance of unsettled disorientation and hospitable warmth, teeming with real feeling throughout. The album’s cover art painting Cryptography I by Yen-Chao Lin represents this prevailing sensibility, its mazelike circuitry distinctly carved and crisply rendered, while filigreed with handmade detail and artisanal patina. Thanks for listening.

Courant Zéro is the new moniker of Montréal multi-media installation artist and Kohlenstoff label co-founder Maxime Corbeil-Perron, signalling his return to purely recording-based electronic music production following several years focused on award-winning experimental film and audio-visual works. Solari channels his cinematic sensibility and decade-long exploration of sound art and electroacoustic counterpoint into deep cuts of maximalist ambient electronica. Drawing on his early background as a pianist and jazz drummer, Corbeil-Perron weaves a fabric of melodic and rhythmic vectors with his unique timbral palette, intersecting modern composition, IDM, ambient, glitch, and noise on a debut album brimming with sonic detail and emotive resonance. A fixture of Montréal's sound art community as both creator and curator since the early 2010s, Corbeil-Perron's work has ranged from "hypnotic A/V onslaught" (FACT Magazine) to the "richly nuanced acousmatic journey" of his 2018 EP Polychrome (Bandcamp Best Contemporary Classical Of The Month), with earlier electronic and techno-adjacent projects like Political Ritual, Dresden, and Le poisson d'argent garnering accolades from avant-music outlets A Closer Listen, Silence and Sound, and Musicworks, among others. Courant Zéro mobilizes this cumulative wealth of explorative sonic experience in the service of distinctive compositional architectures and electronic music pathways that fans of Floating Points, Jan Jelinek, Squarepusher, Tim Hecker, and Oneohtrix Point Never should find compelling. Title track "Solari" opens the album with a cavernous ambient glitch-drone soundscape that envelops ever-shifting timbres of modular arpeggiation, serving as introduction to the clarion call of "En deçà du réel", an homage to video artist Manon Labrecque, where layers of interweaving melodic counterpoint played on Buchla and other synths slowly build to widescreen immersive intensities; "I have this vision of Labreque vibrating eternally between two frames of magnetic VHS tape_ the slow pace of the piece also inspired by Tarkovsky's approach to scenography" says Corbeil-Perron. "Strange Aorta" is ectoplasmic ambient with wistful melody lines transmuting along a central filament, awash in shifting waves of low-end and ricocheting tonal glitch, the title a reference to "the thumping rhythm beating around the main melody_and the heavy remnants of grief related to my father's passing and a brutal confrontation with my own mortality a few years back." Tracks like "La peau des dents" and "Eroding Us" are more firmly rooted in electroacoustic and aleatory systems music, where colliding loops are shaped into unstable flows of deconstructed slippage and reconvergence. Those two pieces bookend the album's pivotal center: the gorgeous piano digitalia of "Horizon n'arrête" and the skittering electronica of 9-minute opus "Unyeldd", its loping broken beat and cascading melodic glitter like a cluster of wind-up music boxes in a dappled forest _ and for Corbeil- Perron also partly inspired by now fellow Constellation labelmates Do Make Say Think: "I spent a lot of time rediscovering their records after seeing them last September 2024 which definitely influenced this piece." Courant Zéro's debut is a vibrant sonic rebus at the junction of electronic, electroacoustic, noise and ambient music that resists easy categorisation. Solari strikes a compelling balance of unsettled disorientation and hospitable warmth, teeming with real feeling throughout. The album's cover art painting Cryptography I by Yen-Chao Lin represents this prevailing sensibility, its mazelike circuitry distinctly carved and crisply rendered, while filigreed with handmade detail and artisanal patina. Thanks for listening.

Founded in Germany in 2019, CONSVMER. have spent the last few years carving out a space that’s entirely their own: progressive metal, beatdown, and metalcore delivered entirely in German, with an unflinching focus on subjects most people would rather look past. Their 2024 record Seelenfrieden turned heads inside and outside the German metal scene, with coverage from outlets including Nik Nocturnal and a collaboration with Paleface Swiss that confirmed the band were operating at a level far beyond their years. Live, they have earned their place on stages at Summer Breeze, Core Fest and Bembel X Core Festival. Now, with new vocalist Jacques Gronert and a vision sharpened to a point, CONSVMER. return with Abgrund.
Where Seelenfrieden refined the template, Abgrund dismantles it. Across eleven tracks the band push further into territory that feels genuinely unique and uncompromising: the title track opens the record on collective collapse and a society steering towards the edge with no intention of stopping, while songs like "Gier" tear into systemic greed and exploitation with brutal clarity, "Willenlos" descends into dissociation and the erasure of identity, and "Sucht" confronts addiction and self-destruction with a rawness that is hard to shake. Closer "Gottverlassen" leaves the listener exactly where the title suggests. The collaboration with brutal deathcore veterans Acranius on "Sucht" hits like a freight train, their English-language verses locking into CONSVMER.'s German delivery to devastating effect. Fellow German hardcore outfit DOGBITE also appear, adding another dimension to a record that never loses focus.

Modi Bardo, an alumnus of Moonshine Recordings, is another who on the surface appears to be at the nascent era of their sound experiments, but in truth is a longtime explorer of outer realms of Dub.

There is much to mention here which can be uncovered with the correct keywords, but one of the early bright points would be Spacelings and Bassheads, the Detroit-based Psych duo Modi Bardo was half of, who although seemingly limited in the realms of recorded output (with only a compilation appearance each via the Electro visionaries Interdimensional Transmissions and Booty bass / Techno orientated Intuit-Solar) where in fact not-so-limited in the era in the way of public performance, even performing at the renowned Packard Plant renegades in the 90's with UR on occasion.

Forward to now, and Modi Bardo has created something that reaches for unknown territory in Dub. With an establishing A side that is deep and primordial in tone, a' la Challenger Deep and Babe Roots releases, this proves to be merely a fantastic tone setter for the B side, which seems to find a zone where Dub Techno, Half Time, and Autonomic DnB have not quite gleaned yet. Truly a record unlike any other, while somehow being an invaluable tool for DJ's exploring the links between the aforementioned sounds and even Dancehall and Jungle in the mix.

A must for all those chasing the evolution of dub reflective arts, and the adventurous DJ in general.

Montréal-based sound artist Steve Bates expands his strategies and stylistic influences on An Infinite Antenna, his second solo album for Constellation, giving freer reign to melodic components and textural dynamics: leftfield synth work, deconstructed drum machine, pointillist electric guitar, and radiostatic blur are all part of the new brew swirling around his bruitist signal-bending and field-recording sensibility. Arguably a more ambient album than his acclaimed 2022 Constellation debut, An Infinite Antenna is at the same time more densely packed with ideas, dynamics, evocations and earworms. Coming out of the anarcho-punk scene of the Canadian Prairies in the 1990s, Bates founded Winnipeg’s experimental sound festival Send + Receive in 1998 before moving to Montréal to become Sound Coordinator at Hexagram (Concordia University), delving further into sonic research and theory, tape-based composition, and installation work. Alongside the curatorial arc of his own sound art label The Dim Coast, Bates released several solo and collaborative albums on ORAL_records leading up to All The Things That Happen, the 2022 Constellation debut praised by Boomkat for its “grittily iridescent ambient billow rendering maximalist panoramas” and by Backseat Mafia as “extraordinary soundscapes of unstable, destructive cacophony and tender calm, echoes of the threat of power.” Where that album was noisier and single-minded, made with the self-imposed limit of a Casio SK-1, Bates plays more widely with instrumentation and atmospheres on An Infinite Antenna, also drawing on his post-hardcore roots in seeking a sort of track-by-track concision nonetheless driven by the album’s coherence as a seamless work. “I was trying to set durations I associate with punk rather than the longer, sprawling music coming from more ambient styles (that I very much love), and while I wasn’t able to quite pare it down to Minutemen durations, I had that reduction to essential elements as a sort of whisper over my shoulder.” Incorporating source recordings made throughout 2023-2025, including at artist residencies and site-specific sound installation visits in Bosnia and Herzegovina (the album’s cover photo was taken in Sarajevo), Austria, Greece, and Saskatchewan, An Infinite Antenna combines Bates’ “idea of slowly scanning a radio dial” with a soundworld of recurring timbral and textural touchstones that forge an integrated whole.

The album’s 12 tracks work effectively as stand-alone pieces, replete with shifting undercurrents, buried melody, and stuttering kinetics, and as a sequential flow where the brief interstitial silences between them are like short pauses to flip the next page in a sketchbook of perspectival studies of a wide but singular tableau. The glistening atonal synth expressionism of opener “Pink pink pink pink…pink pink” drifts gently toward submerged ambience, darkened by the noised rumble and static interference of “Green as a ghost”, which introduces broken beats and piano chords in its denouement. Tracks like “Battles and sieges and street trees” and “Easier sad than done” work the foundations of low-end field-recording resonance, but dappled with lovely melodic droplets of treated guitar and synth. “Waste, songs of the world” and “Disaster loans” are among the album’s most explicit stylistic references to posthardcore, with distorted ambient bass and gently abrasive drum sampling. Closing track “Swamps and factories”, the album’s longest piece, is perhaps most reminiscent of Bates’ previous record with its sustained dissonant glimmer-drone, but the journey An Infinite Antenna traces to get there is Bates at his most dynamic, diverse, distinctive, and engaging. Thanks for listening.

Montréal-based sound artist Steve Bates expands his strategies and stylistic influences on An Infinite Antenna, his second solo album for Constellation, giving freer reign to melodic components and textural dynamics: leftfield synth work, deconstructed drum machine, pointillist electric guitar, and radiostatic blur are all part of the new brew swirling around his bruitist signal-bending and field-recording sensibility. Arguably a more ambient album than his acclaimed 2022 Constellation debut, An Infinite Antenna is at the same time more densely packed with ideas, dynamics, evocations and earworms. Coming out of the anarcho-punk scene of the Canadian Prairies in the 1990s, Bates founded Winnipeg's experimental sound festival Send + Receive in 1998 before moving to Montréal to become Sound Coordinator at Hexagram (Concordia University), delving further into sonic research and theory, tape-based composition, and installation work. Alongside the curatorial arc of his own sound art label The Dim Coast, Bates released several solo and collaborative albums on ORAL_records leading up to All The Things That Happen, the 2022 Constellation debut praised by Boomkat for its "grittily iridescent ambient billow rendering maximalist panoramas" and by Backseat Mafia as "extraordinary soundscapes of unstable, destructive cacophony and tender calm, echoes of the threat of power." Where that album was noisier and single-minded, made with the self-imposed limit of a Casio SK-1, Bates plays more widely with instrumentation and atmospheres on An Infinite Antenna, also drawing on his post-hardcore roots in seeking a sort of track-by-track concision nonetheless driven by the album's coherence as a seamless work. "I was trying to set durations I associate with punk rather than the longer, sprawling music coming from more ambient styles (that I very much love), and while I wasn't able to quite pare it down to Minutemen durations, I had that reduction to essential elements as a sort of whisper over my shoulder." Incorporating source recordings made throughout 2023-2025, including at artist residencies and site-specific sound installation visits in Bosnia and Herzegovina (the album's cover photo was taken in Sarajevo), Austria, Greece, and Saskatchewan, An Infinite Antenna combines Bates' "idea of slowly scanning a radio dial" with a soundworld of recurring timbral and textural touchstones that forge an integrated whole. The album's 12 tracks work effectively as stand-alone pieces, replete with shifting undercurrents, buried melody, and stuttering kinetics, and as a sequential flow where the brief interstitial silences between them are like short pauses to flip the next page in a sketchbook of perspectival studies of a wide but singular tableau. The glistening atonal synth expressionism of opener 'Pink pink pink pink_pink pink' drifts gently toward submerged ambience, darkened by the noised rumble and static interference of 'Green as a ghost', which introduces broken beats and piano chords in its denouement. Tracks like 'Battles and sieges and street trees' and 'Easier sad than done' work the foundations of low-end field-recording resonance, but dappled with lovely melodic droplets of treated guitar and synth. 'Waste, songs of the world' and 'Disaster loans' are among the album's most explicit stylistic references to posthardcore, with distorted ambient bass and gently abrasive drum sampling. Closing track 'Swamps and factories,' the album's longest piece, is perhaps most reminiscent of Bates' previous record with its sustained dissonant glimmer-drone, but the journey An Infinite Antenna traces to get there is Bates at his most dynamic, diverse, distinctive, and engaging. Thanks for listening

“Music for me, is rarely complete,” says GODFLESH mastermind Justin Broadrick, “but it has to reach a point where enough is enough. Creatively, there has to be self-discipline. One has to end it.” Broadrick is primarily referring to the nebulous process of writing and arranging songs into their various potential shapes, but he could just as easily be describing GODFLESH’s imminent conclusion. Just three years after the hypnotic crunch of Purge, 25 years after an uncertain hiatus that nearly scuttled the band, and 38 years since GODFLESH’s inception, Broadrick and bassist-at-arms Ben Green set out to mercilessly crush this cold world with their tenth and penultimate album, this year’s Decay. “Decay was born from the same sessions as Purge,” Broadrick declares of the new record’s six tracks. “It was one huge pool of songs. I picked what I felt was appropriate for what I wanted to achieve with Purge, with the intention of releasing the songs that didn't fit as a new album within a year of Purge being released. Unfortunately, two years passed whilst considering external labels, so that I didn't have to self-release GODFLESH anymore, but it took an awful lot of time to establish a comfortable home for me. The recordings were done, but as usual for me, I did change a lot of stuff once I came back to it.” Now, GODFLESH is ready to unleash an even bolder, bleaker series of sounds in Decay. These songs arrive shortly after Broadrick released a public statement about major abdominal surgery he underwent earlier this year.

"The grass is greener_ elsewhere_" Brain Damage told us with their debut album, released in 2002. Yet here, they've reached full maturity. Rarely has a "made in France" dub album strayed so far from the Jamaican model while still harboring, in every detail, so many references and tributes to the inventors of the style (King Tubby / Lee Perry), as well as to many of the key figures in its evolution (Tikiman / Rhythm & Sound, Dub Syndicate, etc.). The recording studio, 7/11 Laboratory, is used here as a true musical instrument. The optimal use of three-dimensional stereo effects will immerse the listener in soundscapes ranging from classic space echoes and Mont Blanc tunnel-style reverberations to crackles, electronic interference, exogenous samples, and other parasitic noises coming straight from Babylon. For this album, continuing in the vein of his previous collaborations with the international dub scene (Zion Train, Alpha & Omega, Disciples, Spectre, Lab°_), Brain Damage traveled to London to record two tracks at Conscious Sounds Studio with Jamaican-born singer Tena Stelin. With the melancholic "Spirit World," one is reminded of the fruitful collaborations between Massive Attack and Horace Andy, while on "Genetic Weapon," the tone becomes more overtly assertive. Two vocal tracks, then, woven into these ten compositions, where the emotional moods and atmospheres will shift with each listen. "Always Greener (On the Other Side)" emerges as the manifesto of music conceived as cinema for the ear...