quête:point no point

Celebrating the 30th anniversary of Enlace Funk magazine, they present the world's first Flamenco-Jazz compilation, featuring 16 tracks from between 1978 to 2025, released on vinyl for the first time. A musical dialogue between Flamenco and Jazz, unique in the world, a journey through some of the most important artists of this style, starting with the seminal work of the group Dolores in 1978, and continuing to examples of the current sound of this exciting fusion. Includes tracks never before released on vinyl by artists such as Jorge Pardo, Chano Dominguez, Pedro Ojesto, and Marc Miralta. The first volume of Flamenco-Jazz aims to showcase this unique style that has proven to be a bridge of communication and dialogue between flamenco and jazz musicians, creating an inimitable sound that is constantly evolving and transcending barriers. We take as our starting point a 1978 recording by Dolores, featuring Paco de Lucía, which later led to the formation of her legendary sextet with musicians who had participated in this recording. Of course, this first volume wouldn't be complete without other masters like Josemi Carmona, Pedro Ojesto, and Marc Miralta. And of course, a new generation of names that have elevated the genre to its current status, such as flautists Trinidad Jiménez and Sergio De Lope, Juanfe Pérez and Juan Pérez Rodríguez from Huelva, Pablo Martín Caminero from Vitoria, and Miquel Alvarez from Valencia. Not forgetting innovators like Antonio Lizana and Enriquito, who are crossing borders and sharing their unique style. Ltd ed.classic black vinyl double LP in gatefold sleeve

Ruff Kutz presents 'Found Sound', a debut solo album by Pugilist.

At a time where art has become readily reproduced and seemingly disposable, I have made something longer-form to be enjoyed as a complete piece, rather than it's single elements.

Found Sound delves into my internal monologue, which I hope results in a personal and introspective listening experience. Building on my previous discography - you can expect versatile sounds and tempos, with a washy dub-wise feel, intoxicating atmospherics, all in a genre-free structure. The album is floaty, euphoric and perhaps a surprisingly light listen compared to my normal output, but with notably huge bass and intricate percussion throughout.

The album taps into nostalgic reference points without leaning on retrograde tropes. While sculpted by contemporary production and FX, the sound remains raw and not overly polished. The album is best described as a collage of sounds that I have steadily collected over the last decade, which have inspired me, some very cheeky sampling and many a late night working on my studio tan. It is a tribute to the music I grew up with and love the most, from past to the present. It is fitting that this release marks the 10 years since I started the Pugilist alias.

This wouldn't have been possible without Umeya, who the album is dedicated to.

Undun is the story of a man, Redford Stevens, dying in reverse, rewinding from the moment he became a statistic and hitting the points in his life where he's at his most self-aware. That he's a criminal who got caught up in the familiar street-hustle trappings that the modern media's documented countless times is a pivotal detail-- it's hit at an angle that seems to emphasize the futile inevitability of it all. His life could be any number of misdirected narratives that ends with a toe tag, and what details listeners learn about him are hazy, buried under archetypal turns of fate and decisive struggles. That this protagonist is a fictionalized composite of a handful of real people, filtered through a matter-of-fact narrative that splits character ambivalence with journalistic impartiality, only makes his lack of direction and the failure of any real closure stand out even more. "Lotta niggas go to prison," Dice Raw states on "Tip the Scale", "how many come out Malcolm X?"

So the Roots' latest album isn't a sprawling, rise-and-fall crime story, not a condemnation or a veneration of a man living outside the law, not a bullet-riddled grand guignol heavy on explicit details of soldiers getting cut down. It's a character study of a man whose existential crisis ends only with his death-- a death gone largely unspecified, the glamor and tragedy washed over with a doomed resignation. That's a hard thing to pull off, even for a band as given to deep-thinking concepts as the Roots are. And when your main lyrical catalyst is Black Thought-- a man more given to allusions than direct statements-- it's likely that it'll take a while for the full scope of Undun to really sink in.

If and when it does, it might strike listeners as a bit skeletal: omit the mood-setting instrumental bookends, including a brief, four-part orchestral suite that builds off Sufjan Stevens' "Redford (For Yia-Yia and Pappou)", and you've got maybe a half hour's worth of material. By ?uestlove's accounts, writing Redford's story introduced the headaches and challenges that come with scriptwriting into their songwriting, and what's left on Undun is the end result of frequent revisions and rewrites that attempt to reconcile character, theme, and continuity. If it comes at the expense of nuance, it's not always obvious: There's an easy-to-trace narrative line from Redford's acceptance of his fate ("Sleep") to his acknowledgement of how close it's approaching ("Make My"), back through declarations of aggravated toughness ("One Time"), and celebratory fatalism ("Kool On"), along ups and downs that juxtapose motivation ("Stomp") and helplessness ("Lighthouse"). When the vocal portion of the album ends with two of the bleakest sets of verses in the Roots discography, peaking with the estrangement of "I Remember" and the desperation of "Tip the Scale", Undun reveals itself as a story where a man's actual death isn't quite as tragic as the circumstances that pushed him to it.

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process. Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever. The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before. ‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract. There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.

Inspired by the concept of the city as a living, complex entity - a feeling Youniss describes as the difference between "living in a city and just being in that city" - Good Effort! is an open-ended narrative drawn from the artist's own experiences, including growing up on the outskirts of Antwerp.

Like a vibrant city itself, the album is a culmination of organic interactions, layered with diverse perspectives from a collective of artists. Good Effort! features a dynamic cast of collaborators, including international heavyweights like Pink Siifu, Petite Noir, and Quelle Chris, alongside celebrated names from the Belgian underground such as Dienne and Porcelain id.

While retaining his critical edge - especially on themes like gentrification, an acute problem in his home city - Youniss explores the full range of his voice across the album's tracks, resulting in a warmer, more texturally diverse sound.

Tracks like “Notice,” “Glass Ceilings,” and “The Sun Is Falling” expand his textural use of distortion, while others, such as “At the Still Point of the World” and “Why Don’t You?”, float at a more tranquil register. The record's energy peaks on “TakeThat” where Pink Siifu and Youniss trade frenetic bars atop jazzy drum freakouts.

Despite the cynicism forged by witnessing his environment change - like the flattening of the beloved venue Onder Stroom for a parking space - Youniss offers a crucial message of perseverance. The album's title, Good Effort!, is a defiant embrace of trying again.

What's the first thing you think of when someone mentions Thee Oh Sees? Probably their riot-sparking live show, right? Visions of a guitar-chewing, melody-maiming John Dwyer careening across your cranium, rounded out by a wild-eyed wrecking crew that drives every last hook home like it's a nail in the coffin of what you thought it meant to make 21st-century rock 'n' roll? Yeah, that sounds about right. But it misses a more important point-how impossible Thee Oh Sees have been to pin down since Dwyer launched the project in the late '90s as a solo break from such sorely missed underground bands as Pink and Brown and Coachwhips. (While Dwyer still records songs on his own, Thee Oh Sees is now a five-piece featuring keyboardist / singer Brigid Dawson, guitarist Petey Dammit, drummer Mike Shoun and multi-instrumentalist / singer Lars Finberg.) That restlessness extends to everything from the towering, thirteen-minute title track of 2010's Warm Smile LP to the mercurial moods of 2008's The Master's Bedroom Is Worth Spending a Night In. Now, Thee Oh Sees chase the home-brewed symphonies of Castlemania with the scrappy, high-wire hooks of Carrion Crawler / The Dream. Originally envisioned as two EPs, it was cut live to tape in less than a week at Chris Woodhouse's Sacramento studio in June, reflecting the battering-ram bent of the band's live show better than any bootleg ever could. "As I'm sure most would agree," explains Dwyer, "Castlemania was more of a vocal tirade. This one's meant to pummel and throb." That it does, whether one blasts the slow, speaker-bruising build of "The Dream," the sunburnt organs and dovetailing guitars of "Crack in Your Eye" or the interstellar instrumental "Chem-Farmer," a perfect example of what happens when one takes a well-oiled machine-a gang of rabid road warriors, really-and adds a second, groove-locked drum set to the mix. To listen is to realize that Dwyer's music is as manic as the underground comic inclinations of his artwork; colorful and confusing in a way that's more than welcome. It's downright refreshing, like a slap in the face at 5:00 in the morning. Or, as Dwyer puts it, "You have to leave a mark somehow."

The breakthrough album. Enrico Rava's second solo record, recorded in Milan in January 1973 and released on the German BASF label, is nothing less than a cornerstone of Italian jazz-rock - the record that caught Manfred Eicher's attention and opened the doors to ECM. Rava himself has called it his breakthrough, and history proved him right.

The lineup is killer: John Abercrombie on guitar, Bruce Johnson on bass, Chip White on drums. Four musicians operating at the absolute peak of early seventies fusion energy - electric, cosmopolitan, burning with that particular fire that only existed in that brief window when jazz met rock and nobody knew the rules yet. Abercrombie, already on his way to becoming one of the most distinctive voices in electric jazz guitar, delivers some of his most ferocious early work here. White's drumming is relentless, pushing the music forward with an intensity that never lets up.

If Miles' Bitches Brew-era speaks to you, if Ian Carr's Nucleus gets you moving, if you know Sun Ra's Lanquidity and Don Cherry's Relativity Suite by heart - this is essential listening. Rava's vision was already fully formed: South American rhythms, Mediterranean warmth, free jazz ferocity, rock power - all flowing together without borders or categories. By the early seventies, Rava had absorbed everything - the New Thing, the European free scene, the electric revolution coming out of Miles' studio - and forged something entirely his own.

The seven tracks cover serious ground. "Bunny's Pie" introduces the music with an almost cosmic atmosphere of suspense, hovering in that liminal space before it trails off into the up-tempo vibrant frenzy of "Trial N. 5" - Abercrombie and Rava trading swirling solos at full intensity, the rhythm section locked in tight. "Dimenticare Stanca" moves from Rava's expressive balladic intro into pure funk, guitar and trumpet steering over the rhythmic drive with absolute confidence. The title track carries the lyrical feel and cadence of an Incan-Peruvian folksong - that cosmopolitan spirit made audible. "Fluid Connection" rides a funky bass riff into fusion heaven, with standout trumpet and guitar solos that build and release with perfect tension. "Cheerin' Cherry" pays homage to the great Don Cherry - Rava's spiritual mentor and fellow traveler in world music - exploring a North African soundscape that points toward the global jazz to come. Johnson's "Peace" closes the album with a minute and a half of serene, blissful calm - a moment of stillness after the storm.

This audiophile reissue - cut from the original masters, pressed by Pallas in Germany on 180gm vinyl, housed in a thick laminated hand-glued gatefold - does full justice to an album that remains a collector's holy grail.

Don't sleep on this one. Limited Edition.

"Since their formation in the latter half of 2023, Berlin’s Industry have quickly emerged into the foreground as one of the more exciting groups of the European DIY punk scene. Having released their 2024 debut LP, touring and playing festivals all over the continent, they are now back with a follow up record that’s every bit as bruising and bleak as the first.
Much has been made of how ‘on point’ Industry sound - a mid-paced cocktail of heavy toms and churning riffs recalling ‘No Sanctuary’ era Amebix or classic Killing Joke. But Industry use these sounds as a springboard rather than a template, utilising the form for genuine expression where others are tempted by retro cosplay. Their sound is pared back, pulsing, relentless but danceable. But it’s the words that result in a listen that’s engaging from start to finish, an album that’s both expressive and polemic. Just as people often describe Discharge’s lyrics as Haiku, Industry uses the band’s repetitive grooves as a wide-open canvas on which their exasperated observations are given space to land with precision. The litany of criticisms are familiar to us all - violence exacted on the poor and vulnerable by those in power, the ongoing industrialised slaughter of humans and animals, the disastrous consequences of colonialism, the list goes on… The world in 2025 is fucked, and even though they say they ‘can’t even look’, this band has got their eyes wide open."

The first resonant space Zosha Warpeha played in was the Emanuel Vigeland Museum in Oslo, Norway. Built as a mausoleum, its walls reach up into a gradual archway, creating an environment where sound expands and reverberates for twelve seconds before decaying into silence. Warpeha was greeted only by dim lights when she entered, and it wasn’t until she had spent several minutes listening that she was able to make out the frescoes that covered every inch of the room: graphic depictions of the cycle of life from conception through death. As the sound of her Hardanger d’amore encountered the walls and these slowly emerging scenes, they obscured its point of origin in both time and space, augmenting its own life cycle. The experience sat in the back of her mind over the next several years as she developed her own patient style of composition and performance, one that comes into full bloom on her new album I grow accustomed to the dark.

When Warpeha was selected as an artist in residence at Brooklyn’s ISSUE Project Room in 2025, she saw it as an opportunity to more intentionally explore how her music might fill a room with ample natural reverb. I grow accustomed to the dark documents two single-take solo performances for Hardanger d’amore and voice at IPR, with both pieces composed in a unique tuning system developed to interact with the space itself. Listeners can trace resonance from the contact of the bow on gut strings into the body of the instrument, its five sympathetic strings offering another layer of refraction, before the sound is thrown about the cavity of the room. The echoes emerge like a photographic double exposure, or wisps of smoke that linger in the air, creating ghostly harmonic convergences that blur the line between what is there and not-there. Sound begins to act like light, a synesthetic alchemy that transforms drones into beams and ornamental trills into flickers.

Both side-long compositions, “filament” and “visual purple,” exemplify a duality that animates Warpeha’s music: an expressive, individualistic style that draws on extensive knowledge of her instrument’s history in folk traditions, and an austere, devotional quality maintained by focus and precision. Though very different in character and structure, both pieces evolve slowly through numerous repetitive phrases, passages of stillness, and bursts of intensity. “filament” opens with a cycle of delicate melodic fragments played and sung around a drone before blossoming into an outpouring of swooping arpeggios, harmonics flying from the strings like sparks off a bonfire. The disorienting pulsation of harmonic beating forms the core of “visual purple,” the close-tone dissonance building to a swarm of open strings ringing boldly throughout the space. After the knotty tones reach their climax, the piece collapses into studied quietude, hushed, but without any drop in intensity.

When Warpeha first visited the Vigeland Museum in 2019, she was in Oslo to deepen her relationship to the Hardanger fiddle through the study of Norwegian traditional music, which is primarily passed down aurally. The experience of learning songs by ear, not only internalizing the tune but also absorbing the techniques and tonalities by listening, was a crucial step in her development as a composer. The years since have seen her sharpen those skills as a prolific member of the New York avant-garde and improvised music communities. Warpeha’s music encourages listeners to join her in this journey, to listen closely with each repeated phrase and through each dramatic shift. Like the frescoes on Vigeland’s walls, with time and intention, the depth of I grow accustomed to the dark comes on like a revelation.

Born from the dialogue between two distinct yet complementary visions of techno — Orbe’s futuristic and immersive atmospheres, and Psyk’s hypnotic depth, stripped-back minimalism — the record unfolds as a carefully sculpted sonic journey. Tension, space, and texture take center stage, shaping an evolving narrative that progresses seamlessly from track to track.

More than a collection of individual cuts, the album embodies a cohesive and mature concept: a shared identity refined through countless hours of studio experimentation, critical listening, and synthesis. Here, the core essence of the project crystallizes — a point of convergence between atmosphere and impact, abstraction and functionality, introspection and raw dancefloor energy.

This release not only marks the culmination of an intensive creative cycle, but also signals the beginning of a new phase in their ongoing exploration of techno’s expressive potential.

Limited to 300 copies. Yellow Vinyl. Approaching Doom is the third album by Monsternaut, a darker and heavier representation of the band's established devotion to groovy riffs and to the point compositions. The songs took shape over several years, during which the arrival of a new drummer opened the door to more adventurous rhythms and riff ideas, pushing the band into new territory while staying true to their roots. Sonically, the album leans toward the grit and weight of early 90s metal rather than polished modern production, giving it a raw and immediate edge. Its lyrics and atmosphere follow a naturally darker direction as well, adding an extra layer of tension beneath the grooves. Recorded entirely the old fashioned way, straight to analog tape with no digital editing, it captures the band playing as they are, relying on performance, chemistry, and feel rather than correction. The result is a record that hits harder, feels more focused, and marks a confident new chapter in Monsternaut's evolution.

Shoreline’s new album Is This The Low Point Or The Moment After? is built around an unanswerable question: when you hit rock bottom, can you tell where things begin to turn? Meant to be heard front to back, the record starts in a subdued, reflective place, grows progressively heavier, and ultimately lands on a more hopeful note. Drawing from the current wave of emo and hardcore while reflecting the collision of Germany’s alternative scenes, the album shows a band with a clear musical vision focused on big melodies, heavy riffs, and an honest DIY punk foundation.

Der US-amerikanische Musiker Anjimile Chithambo (ann-JIM-uh-lee) hat sich in den vergangenen Jahren als eigenständige Stimme etabliert. In der Indie-Szene Bostons bekannt geworden, entwickelte er einen persönlichen, ehrlichen Stil, der Spiritualität, Identität und Nähe miteinander verbindet. Mit dem gefeierten Album "Giver Taker" (2020) setzte sich Anjimile mit Zugehörigkeit und Selbstverständnis auseinander. "The King" (2023), sein erstes Album auf 4AD, thematisierte Selbstbestimmung und seine Erfahrungen als schwarze Trans-Person in einer Zeit tiefgreifender persönlicher und gesellschaftlicher Veränderungen. Diese Themen führt Anjimile auf seinem neuen Album "You"re Free to Go" weiter. Im Mittelpunkt steht die Frage, was geschieht, wenn man Kontrolle loslässt und neue Formen von Bindung und Freiheit zulässt. Das Album verarbeitet Trennungen, neue Beziehungen, Verluste und Neuanfänge und beschreibt einen Weg zurück zu Vertrauen ins eigene Leben. Der Titel spiegelt eine offenere Sicht auf Beziehungen wider, geprägt durch Erfahrungen mit non-monogamen Modellen. Produziert von Brad Cook (Bon Iver, Waxahatchee) und unterstützt von Gästen wie Sam Beam (Iron & Wine), entfaltet sich "You"re Free to Go" organisch und intim. Musikalisch verbindet Anjimile Folk mit Alternative-Pop-Einflüssen der späten 1990er-Jahre. Auch stimmlich zeigt er sich weiterentwickelt - eine bewusste Veränderung, die der emotionalen Tiefe des Albums zusätzliche Kraft verleiht.

B. Chamber (Stratum A), by B. Close, is the first full length solo release by Los Angeles-based multi-disciplinary artist Brian Close. The first of two volumes assembled from some thirteen hours of music produced by Close while residing in Connecticut from 2021-2025, B. Chamber (Stratum A) offers a vivid, fractal afterimage of a prolific, specific time and space in the artist’s oeuvre.

After leaving New York City early in the pandemic to a farmhouse in the countryside with dedicated spaces for multiple sound stations, Close developed an intensive daily practice of melding with the machines. The vast, pastoral backdrop of rural CT provided inspiration and contrast for his ongoing investigations into dynamic, poly-rhythmic electronic music. The sounds on B. Chamber (Stratum A) range from the machine-modeling of acoustic instruments and natural environments to the utterly unhuman, spinning on the axis between crystalline, pointillist precision and shifty blown-cone distortion. Close’s atypical interpretations of rhythm, noise and other undefined musics land in a hybrid zone of their own.

Throughout B. Chamber (Stratum A), Close’s productions are in perpetual motion. Foxtrot’s shifting hi-hats and disembodied voices rise like cicadas propelled by glitching machines and tangled rhythms, Many Drive draws momentum from dubby stabs and twinkling atmospherics. Character Community’s nimble, drifting snares and erratic static are uplifted by swelling synths, and Mpan’s modular mining forgoes drums but is no less propulsive for it. Acre Voices’ seasick pads and deft drum patterns tap an energizing nerve, and closer 5D Bow’s ambush of pummeling machine gun fire spirals into the tryptamine palace and emerges completely rinsed and refreshed.

Equally powerful in the club as in the outdoors, in the headphones eyes closed or on the move, B. Chamber (Stratum A) grants an immersive temporary trip on B. Close’s unique wavelength, with Stratum B to complete the picture in the summer of 2026.

RIYL - Mark Fell, muay thai, Vladislav Delay, gaming, Errorsmith, modular synthesizer.

+++++

Brian Close (b. 1979, NYC) uses the cold logic of mathematics to trigger states of total sensory displacement. Close co-founded multiple AV studios to explore the "hypnotic"—a ritualistic practice of motional-graphism and improvisational sound. His work is a study in synesthesia and the architecture of trance, using geometric precision to dissolve the sense of time. It is a digital-visceral experience built on heavy logic, designed for large-scale immersion and timelessness.

Close is one half of Georgia who have released records on Palto Flats, Firecracker Recordings, Meakusma, Youth, OOH-Sounds and EM Records, and have a long-running residency on NTS.

B. Chamber was written, produced and mixed by Brian Close.
Mastered by Rashad Becker.
Artwork by Brian Close.

Daniel Lopatins (Oneohtrix Point Never) Soundtrack für Marty Supreme, gepresst auf schwarzem und transparentem Vinyl. Kommt mit japanischem Obi-Band und doppelseitigem "Koto Endo / Marty Supreme Offizieller Ball"-Poster. Der Film Marty Supreme ist eine Abenteuerkomödie von Josh Safdie aus dem Jahr 2025 und ist lose vom Leben Marty Reismans inspiriert, die in den 1950er-Jahren spielende Geschichte ist jedoch fiktiv. Die Hauptrolle des titelgebenden Tischtennisspielers übernahm Timothée Chalamet. Gwyneth Paltrow, Odessa A'zion, Kevin O'Leary, Tyler Okonma, Abel Ferrara und Fran Drescher ergänzten das Schauspielensemble. Marty Supreme ist der erste Film von Josh Safdie nach Beendigung der kreativen Zusammenarbeit mit seinem Bruder Benny. Das Werk wurde Anfang Oktober 2025 im Rahmen des New York Film Festivals uraufgeführt. Der US-Kinostart war an Weihnachten 2025. Ende Februar 2026 soll der Film in die deutschen Kinos kommen. Die Filmmusik von Daniel Lopatin wurde im Jahr 2025 für einen Hollywood Music In Media Award (HMMA) nominiert. Im Rahmen der Critics' Choice Movie Awards 2026 wurde Marty Supreme in die Shortlists für die Kategorien Casting & Ensemble", Szenenbild", Kamera", Kostüme", Filmschnitt" und Filmmusik" aufgenommen. Im Dezember 2025 gelangte der Film auf die Oscar-Shortlists für das beste Casting, die beste Kamera, das beste Makeup & Hairstyling und die beste Filmmusik. (Quelle: Wikipedia)

John Lee Hooker is widely recognised as one of the true giants of the blues, along with Muddy Waters, B.B. King, and Howlin' Wolf. Hooker is often called the "King of the Boogie" and his driving, rhythmic approach to guitar playing has become an integral part of the blues' sound and style that perpetuated the UK's rhythm and blues scene of the '60s. Presented here is one of John Lee Hooker' s finest album, The Big Soul of John Lee Hooker, recorded in Chicago in 1962.

In a career that spanned some forty odd years, a pivotal point of success came with his 1989 album The Healer, which featured collaborations with Carlos Sanatana, Bonnie Raitt, Charlie Musselwhite, and Los Lobas. The album expanded his audience beyond the blues idiom, earning him his highest Billboard album chart success (#62) his first Grammy Award; all of this at the grand-old-age of 73. For those not familiar with Hooker's earlier work, the Big Soul of John Lee Hooker is an excellent starting point.

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

Nach fünfzehn Jahren auf Welttournee mit La Femme kehrt Marlon Magnée nun als Solo-Künstler mit seinem Debütalbum Dark Star zurück, das ihn wieder mit seinen frühesten Leidenschaften verbindet. Die Platte spiegelt seinen Geschmack für ungewöhnliche Mischungen und eigenständige Stile wider: eine Kombination aus Rockabilly, Punk, Cold Wave und psychedelischem Psychobilly. Die Stücke, gesungen auf Französisch und Englisch, greifen auf Gitarren der Sechziger zurück, auf eine "Orgie aus Synthesizern" direkt aus den Achtzigern, auf donnernde Drumcomputer, analoge Delays und eine bewusst rohe Energie. Seine Einflüsse ziehen sich durch das gesamte Album: The Velvet Underground, The Stranglers, Motörhead, The Cure, The Stray Cats, JJ Cale, die Nuggets-Kompilationen, aber auch französischsprachige Ikonen wie Gainsbourg, Les Rita Mitsouko, Métal Urbain, Plastic Bertrand und Marc Charlan. Das Ergebnis: ein schnelles, ruheloses Album (Tempi bis zu 240 bpm), manchmal radikal, konzipiert "für diejenigen, die Blut im Herzen und den Drang haben, sich zur Wehr zu setzen". Co-produziert mit Renaud Letang (Feist, Manu Chao, Peaches) im legendären Ferber Studio in Paris markiert dieses erste Solo-Werk eine echte Rückkehr zu Marlons Wurzeln - und kündigt mit Nachdruck das Comeback des Rock in der heutigen Musiklandschaft an.

SAMOH unleashes his new dancefloor weapon, four-track EP ‘Changing Worlds’, out on February 26th, as his debut on Charlotte de Witte’s prestigious KNTXT imprint.

Charlotte de Witte: ‘I have been playing SAMOH’s tracks for quite some time now and I am very happy to welcome him to KNTXT. His acid, techno and trance driven approach to music fits my lane perfectly. There is an energy in his work that feels raw, focused and completely unapologetic. This release in particular has that acidic drive that I love so much. This is powerful club material and I cannot wait to see where it will go.’

Rotterdam’s producer, DJ & live artist SAMOH responds, ‘Releasing this as my first record on KNTXT is an amazing opportunity, and I feel honoured to be able to share my music with so many people and let this sound travel further worldwide.’

‘Changing Worlds’ EP: from the title track’s rampant beat, rattling drums, acid-saturated main theme with euphoric edge, and portentous vocal (‘reality peels away...’) to ‘We Are All Waveforms’ with its psytrancey, insanely acidic builds to banshee pitch over shutter & hiss FX at which point you are indeed ‘entering a non-linear dimension’, you are then a willing victim for ‘Reality Is Gone’ to hammer-drill into the brain and take command of your feet. Final piece ‘Echoes Of Tomorrow’ starts with dystopian chattering percussion and spacey FX, before luring you into a healing euphoric dreamstate with moonstruck, melodic trancey sweetly soaring singing.

’Changing Worlds’ represents my approach to acid techno/trance in its most direct and energetic form.’ SAMOH says.‘I made this EP with three high energy tracks, followed by a more atmospheric closing piece that brings everything together. It’s about a driving motion and intensity, creating moments where dancers can disconnect from everything else and fully give themselves to the music.’

You have been warned. You may as well succumb to acid as voracious as Venusian cloudforms, techno beats galloping over your inhibitions, and trance as bewitching as absinthe for the ears. You’ll be glad you did.