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Active for 40 years, Nurse with wound is one of the projects of Steven Stapleton, materialized in a very wide range of hysterical noise over sound collages and cut ups, abstract music, soothing drones and surreal sound paintings, and more rhythmical and mechanical pieces, always inspired by Dadaism and Futurism, Krautrock, jazz improvisation, surrealism, never losing his main goal, that is having fun and enjoying himself.He has had many collaborators, a recurrent one in the 80s and 90’s being Current 93’s David Tibet, another noticeable one still at work with him is Andrew Liles.The main line of this unpredictable sound builder is hectic and uncompromised, his point of view is that everything is possible and applies it to himself. As a youngster he wanted to be an artist so decided he was one . He is not a musician, and says he has no interest in becoming one. Surprisingly, (or not!), the love of his life is building sculptures out of recycled and reclaimed materials, building things with anything, even junk. And sounds, we are a witness to it.With these very strange juxtapositions of styles and manners, female rap music and 50s and 60s lounge music having a special top priority in Steven’s tastes, and a creativity that has no bounds no taboos, with a taste of novelty every time, Nurse with wound will no doubt continue to surprise people listening to his works, and himself, as he wants to keep it fresh every time, mostly for him.

Jadu Heart’s Wanderflower and Ezra’s Garden reissued together on vinyl for the first time.

Since their 2016 debut EP, Wanderflower, Jadu Heart has been slowly building a catalog of electro-pop, R&B, and psychedelic bops. The UK-based duo, consisting of Alex Headford and Diva Jeffery, now has roughly 30 songs that are a collective myriad of immersive soundscapes.

Jadu Heart's Wanderflower was a project released as part of a school project at The British and Irish Modern Music Institute in 2016. Diva described the project as a "story of two characters - Dina and Faro - who get cursed in a temple and every song in Wanderflower corresponds to a different chapter in their story." Their tutor sent the EP to Mura Masa who immediately took a liking to the duo and made them an opening act for his album release show. They were subsequently signed to his label and given the same manager.

The couple's sophomore EP, Ezra's Garden, is a continuation of Jadu Heart's now-signature DIY, psych-funk sound inspired by Jai Paul. The tracks are accompanied by a visual component on Youtube, as Spotify hadn't quite explored the necessity of visualizers yet. After the fantastical characters were introduced in Jadu Heart's first EP, the second EP explores the relationship between Dina and Faro when they are whisked out of the cursed temple and stumble upon a friend who takes them to a machine that shoots them through the galaxy.

Since 2018, Less J’s been laying it down on local labels and pushing his own imprint, Law Heart Records. No shortcuts, no polish — just rough-cut soul and heavy samples, stacked brick by brick into a sound that hits as hard as the city he comes from.
Bricklayer by day, bedroom producer by night, Less J builds grooves the same way he builds walls — with patience, grit and a touch of soul.
Some call him Adrià, others Lessito — but around here he’s simply L'Hospitalet’s own Moodymann. A nickname not given lightly, earned release after release through effort and persistence.
Rather than a weight to carry, it’s fuel — a reason to push harder, sharpen the sound and prove it every time.
This EP oozes truth. Three solid cuts, slow-cooked and straight to the point, topped off with a Mistanomista remix for dessert. No garnish, no tricks — just real music, meant to be listened to properly.

The Mad Geezers are basically F-Spot mainstays Night Owls’ Dan Ubick, Dave Wilder, and Roger Rivas, but with long-time friend and drum guru, Oliver Charles (Ben Harper & The Innocent Criminals, Gogol Bordello) behind the kit. It’s safe to say that these four musicians love their Ska, Rocksteady, roots, and dub, but for this lineup, the four Mad Geezers collectively decided to explore their other obsession... early Jamaican Dancehall.

First on producer Dan Ubick’s To Do list was to channel the fun, attitude, and natural talent on records by Jamaican legends like Yellowman, U-Roy, Sister Nancy, Barrington Levy, Bunny Wailer, and Freddie McGregor. Secondly, find a song that no Jamaican artist has covered, but every DJ on the planet loves, and flip it into a Dancehall groove. Hmm… What about Tom Tom Club’s “Genius of Love”? Ooh! That’s it! So, The Mad Geezers broke out synths, Syn drums, and invited some friends to the party, stepping up to the plate with the brand-new F-Spot Records 45 “Genius Of Love” b/w “Genius Of Dub (Roger Rivas Dub Version). Featuring vocals by one of Jamaica’s shining jewels, Ranking Joe & Oakland’s chosen daughter, Destani Wolf (who many will recall from top-selling Night Owls singles such as “After Laughter” and “Let’s Stay Together,”) this 7” is a sure shot.

With its iconic bass line and catchy synth hook, this 1981 decade-long crate essential is in the collective unconscious at this point. Whether you found it as a Talking Heads fan, or as a rap music fan via Dr. Jeckyll & Mr. Hyde’s “Genius Rap” or Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five’s “It’s Nasty,” the groove is infectious. It’s hard to imagine no one had yet infused this punk-disco powerhouse with a dancehall injection… until now.

2026 Repress

Dam Swindle's new 'Backyard Galaxy' EP is an ode to house music and the classic Swindle sound.

It's only been a few months since Dam Swindle released their highly acclaimed album "Open" and already the boys are back on Heist with a new release that takes you right back to the dancefloor. Where they've spent the better part of the last 3 years writing their album with all its sonic explorations and collabs, this new EP sees the duo return to their roots of club-ready house music. The 'Backyard Galaxy' EP comes with 4 high-energy house tracks made in their Amsterdam studio that have been road-tested all summer.

EP opener "Feel it much?" has all the ingredients of a classic Swindle heater, with warm pads, rich organic percussion and tons of soul. There's a simple and effective vocal running throughout the track that blends nicely with the classic house elements and electronic textures that are layered throughout the track. There's an effortless flow to this track and it comes as no surprise that it has been a highlight in their sets this summer.

The EP title track 'Backyard Galaxy' is an up-tempo Latin-themed jam with a hint of old school techno. The synth stabs hit you just right and the modulated vocal chops are a lovely boost for the build ups and add a touch of swing to a track that already has a tight groove. Add to that a huge breakdown and drum roll and you've got yourself a track that'll light up any dancefloor.

On the flip, we're moving into garage territory with the shuffling vibes of 'Rhythm Baby'. The current popularity of the genre is not missed on Dam Swindle, but when you look closely, you'll see this track is full of elements that the duo have built their legacy on. The vocal chops, transposed key samples and swing are all on point and work just as well below, as above 130 bpm if speed is your thing.

The EP closes with the NY-style house cut 'What you give', which reminds us of Dam Swindle's remix of Cinthie's Heist hit 'Won't U take me' with its lush organs and moody keys. It's perhaps the most classic house track they've made in a long time and you can hear they had a great time recording this. It's playful, vibey and catchy. Just the way we like it.

Dam Swindle might have delivered one of the standout cross-over albums of 2025, but on this EP the message is clear: Once a househead, always a househead.

As always, enjoy the music and play it loud!

Much love,
Heist HQ

On her debut LP 'Memoria', songwriter/producer Lilian Mikorey aka PILLBERT contemplates themes of identity and belonging, hardships and heartbreak in her signature blend of bendy folk guitars, field recordings and intimate vocals.
Moving to London from Munich, not yet 20 years old, Mikorey realized she was leaving her home behind for good. The subsequent state of being lost and alone in a place too temporary to start building the foundation for a new one led her to question the concept of home itself.
Is it friends? Family? A house?
"I started collecting objects, bones, sticks, stones and kept them close", she says, as to create a cosmos traveling with her.
"I was tracing the actual feeling of being home to the point where I built a dreamhouse in my head, as an idea, just to evoke that feeling." Soon enough she would learn that yielding to the yearning of actually going to that house, must be an inevitably sad experience.
A photo she took on a family visit to East-Munich became a reference and starting point for Memoria. It was a small house in her neighbourhood, the windows lit as dusk sets in. To Mikorey, it looked haunting, radiating warmth but somehow looking abandoned at the some time.
"I wanted to make music that sounds like this photo"
She started recording the sounds of the objects she had gathered and of her surroundings, building an archive and sonic material to work with.
From her mid-teens she had learned to produce with Ableton and now she picked up the guitar, too, learning it autodidactically by playing around, creating sounds.
At some point in the process, she realized it's okay to be lost for a while and by enduring the feeling, there's room for something new to grow, far off from any general idea of what home should mean.

The album, over the course of 10 tracks, traces these three phases of building a home in your head, realizing it's not a remedy, nor forever and coming to terms with it. You've grown in the process and the album is a guiding light for everyone who strives to do so, too.

Grupo um celebrate 50 years with release of lost dictatorship-era album nineteen seventy seven!

First time release - vinyl comes with printed innersleeves

Brazilian avant-jazz vanguardists Grupo Um celebrate their 50th anniversary, sharing a second previously lost 1970s album from the vaults. Nineteen Seventy Seven (titled after the year it was recorded) is another rip-roaring instrumental fusion treasure from the band which spawned from within Hermeto Pascoal’s famed mid-1970s São Paulo collective.

Like their debut album Starting Point, Grupo Um’s Nineteen Seventy Seven was recorded when Brazil's military dictatorship was at its most repressive. “There were no open doors to those who dreamt to be protagonists in creative instrumental music”, remembers drummer Zé Eduardo Nazario, “even popular composers and singers had to submit their songs to censors and many records were banned and confiscated from the stores.”

Just like Hermeto Pascoal's Viajando Com O Som (1977) and Grupo Um's previous album Starting Point (1975), both of which remained unreleased until the 21st century, Zé Eduardo asserts that the 1977 album was flatly 'without any chance to be released at that time."

Recorded at Rogério Duprat’s Vice-Versa Studios in São Paulo, the group were under both time and space restraints, “we chose the small Studio B,” Lelo Nazario recalls, “which had a Tascam (TE AC) 12x8 console and a 4-channel AMPEX AG 440 machine. Therefore, we had to record without overdubs, everything straight to tape.”

Expanding from a trio to a quintet, original Grupo Um members Lelo Nazario (keys), Zé Eduardo Nazario (drums), and Zeca Assumpção (bass) were joined by saxophonist Roberto Sion and percussionist Carlinhos Gonçalves. Carlinhos, Zé and Zeca had already played together in the group Mandala, while brothers Lelo and Zé had just finished a stint backing Hermeto Pascoal during his years in São Paulo.

Lelo was deeply immersed in modular synthesizer experimentation during this period, working extensively with the ARP2600 and EMS Synthi AKS. These electroacoustic explorations formed the sonic foundation for "Mobile/Stabile," one of his first compositions to merge modular synthesis with Brazilian music, a fusion that would ripple throughout the Brazilian jazz scene. The piece premiered at the first São Paulo International Jazz Festival in 1978, performed by Grupo Um with guest trumpeter Márcio Montarroyos. In a shocking moment, festival organizers interrupted the show mid-performance, sparking fierce backlash from both audience members and journalists who denounced the incident as artistic censorship during Brazil's era of political and cultural repression. The version on Nineteen Seventy Seven is the first recording of the composition.

Nineteen Seventy Seven combines Afro-Brazilian rhythm, modular synthesis and a plethora of whistles, percussion and effects pedals. Album opener “Absurdo Mudo” - so titled for the absurd difficulty it poses to the musicians performing it - starts out in a cloud of mysterious dissonance, before the haze breaks for a glorious keyboard and saxophone interplay atop an uptempo samba groove. “Cortejo dos Reis Negros (Version 2)” (Procession of the Black Kings), based on the maracatu rhythm, inverts the traditional jazz song structure by beginning with improvisations, which are followed by the theme and a final coda. “The studio also had two Parasound electronic reverb units,” Lelo notes, “and the timbre is very audible on the soprano sax and percussion.”

Grupo Um’s daring music represents a manifesto of resistance during the dictatorship years, but it’s one which remains just as relevant today. As Lelo puts it: “For me, the aesthetic issue has always been about combining contemporary avant-garde languages with Brazilian music, independent of categories and commercial interests. The result of this fusion takes music to a new level.”

Recording credits (1977)
Recorded at Vice-Versa B Studio, São Paulo, November 9, 1977
Produced by Lelo Nazario and Zé Eduardo Nazario
Engineered by Ricardo “Franja” Carvalheira



Lelo Nazario – Wurlitzer electric piano, acoustic piano, signal generator, percussion

Zé Eduardo Nazario – drums, percussion

Zeca Assumpção – electric bass

Carlinhos Gonçalves – percussion

Roberto Sion – soprano sax, clarinet

Release credits (2025)
Produced by UTOPIA Studio, São Paulo
Project Coordination in Brazil by Irati Antonio (Utopia Studio)
Tape Restoration and Digital Mastering by Lelo Nazario at Utopia Studio, July 2025
Liner Notes by Lelo Nazario and Zé Eduardo Nazario
Photography by Jorge Las Heras, Lelo Nazario, and artists' personal archives
Photo Restoration by Lelo Nazario
Artwork and Design by Alessandro Renaldin

Two years after their debut on Berlin-based Mannequin Records, Parisian duo Leroy Se Meurt returns with their second full-length album, Hier Pour Toujours. Far from any sense of nostalgia, this record offers no illusion of hope—history repeats itself, the future looks bleak, and their brand of electronic punk is the perfect soundtrack to it all.Drum machines dictate the pace while synths saturate the space, looping sequences grind relentlessly, and vocals lead this machine orchestra straight into the heart of the chaos. Drawing from their roots, Leroy Se Meurt pushes their fierce electronics further than ever—experimenting with bold slogans, spoken passages, and powerful sing-along choruses.The album opens with Pas Ma Croix, a commanding anthem built for the stage. It flows into Du Plafond à La Terre, driven by a monstrous electro beat and bassline, flirting with emotional vulnerability in its chorus before exploding into a synth solo. Alevlere Karşı once again taps into the duo’s EBM-meets-Turkish vocals signature style, hitting the mark with dancefloor precision.The title track, Hier Pour Toujours, closes side A with a more intimate, drumless moment—solemn but no less intense.That brief calm is shattered by Déviance, marking the return of guitars and an eruptive chorus brimming with raw energy. From there, the album launches into the furious Révolte Ardente, with its syncopated rhythm and vocals drenched in distortion, and continues with Pro Déclin, a stripped-down rhythmic skeleton carrying anti-growth mantras straight to the point. In a world clouded by confusion, the most direct messages often land the hardest.For a change of scenery, Fütürsüz dives into John Carpenter-esque territory—no drums, eerie night-streaked synths, and, for the first time in the band’s history, nearly clean vocals.Closing the record, Encore crawls at a BPM so slow it’s nearly in reverse. But what it lacks in speed, it makes up for in weight—a crushing incantation capable of toppling sound systems.With Hier Pour Toujours, Leroy Se Meurt isn’t offering optimism, but rather persistence. Nothing is settled yet—and perhaps, just perhaps—there’s still light at the end of the tunnel.

Audio taken from a live performance by Anar Band (Jorge Lima Barreto and Rui Reininho) with E.M. de Melo e Castro in November of 1978 at Cooperativa Árvore, Porto. The performance was filmed. A segment was included in »Obrigatório Não Ver«, a weekly programme presented by Ana Hatherly on Public Television’s Second Channel. It was not possible to determine the exact date of the event, and no documentation seems to be available in the relevant archives.

»Encontro que Tenho« and »Profissões«: these titles are specific to this release. Having failed to locate the respective poems after a thorough search in E.M. de Melo e Castro’s body of work, it was deduced both texts were created for the occasion.

Even without a full contextualisation, the sound transmits the spirit of cultural agitation proper to these sessions. When this show happened, Anar Band were Jorge Lima Barreto (ARP Odyssey synthesizer) and Rui Reininho (Ibanez double-neck guitar), with the addition of E.M. de Melo e Castro, whom we shall call a poet but whose creative intervention was far reaching. Besides poetry, also continued his efforts in linking up diverse artistic areas (painting, drawing, collage, performance, video) and his official training in textile engineering. He was one of the artists featured in Henri Chopin's »OU Revue« in 1966, establishing his natural connection to the European concrete/visual/sound-poetry avant-garde. Melo e Castro was also proficient in the agitation of minds and political awareness. A good example in »Profissões«, where initially separate professionals (an intellectual, a fisherman, a soldier, a factory worker) are gradually mixed in a show of interdependency. Symbolically, through his words one listens to a transformation of society, although the same conclusion arises twice: surplus always finds its way to the hands of the capitalists.

That was the state of affairs many were looking to change, an economic and social malaise that the 1974 Revolution in Portugal fully uncovered, when dissident voices could finally be heard in public. Each in his own way, all three participants in this recording were non-believers in the structure of society such as it was presented. Through his books and press writings, mainly concerned with Jazz, Jorge Lima Barreto pushed his way into Portuguese artistic and critical circles since the late 1960s. Consciously and unwittingly, he collected enemies and pointed them by name, people he labelled as reactionary, people who delayed progress, social and cultural mixes, the avant-garde; they even delayed the chaos from which new forms and attitudes arise.

Rui Reininho, a non-conformist by heart, experienced incomprehension from an early age. His anarchic ways, a tendency to baffle others, were revealed through the choice of clothes and accessories, public behaviour, and »real life« performances. Just as Lima Barreto, and even together with him, he enjoyed provoking the extremes: Maoists on one side, right-wing conservatives on the other. He translated leftist books and joined Anar Band precisely on the day a duck or swan or goose (one of them) was thrown on stage in Porto, 1976.

This record documents a concrete action, a snapshot of the agitation, something we have no problem calling punk activism, something which allowed two people with little to no musical training to play and record music. By then, Anar Band had managed to release their only LP in 1977. It’s this performance, however, that reveals the naked rawness of the music: improvisation, mutual listening, and choice of intervention between both musicians and Melo e Castro, clearly sensing when the synth has to change tone, the voice has to make pauses, the guitar punctuates both and finds the space to… scream. The sound was captured by the film crew, adding to the rawness: the instruments are palpable, the voice often too close to the mic. Everything was preserved. First time on disc.

Waiting is the essence of travel. Patience is its own reward.

Two people. A Telecaster guitar with a few effect pedals. A drum machine. An audio interface is connected to a laptop. The ingredients are simple yet effective.

But any suggestion of four-track cassette machines and vintage bedsit productions is quickly dispelled by digital dubbiness and refined arrangements. A tail of reversed echos. The crystalline flourish of octave-pitched delays. Riddled hi-hats tickle and taunt. A bass drum asserts its space.

Winkler's guitar patterns have a fragmented, almost haphazard connotation. Searching in a shimmer of reverb. Until the beat, the framework, sets in to reveal structure. Intentionality. Reihse's programmed rhythms go just to the point of a groove, holding the moment of tension, knowingly delaying the gratification. Beats that have scratchy patina anda subtly playful edge; their crispness stands in contrast to the contemplative drift of the guitar. Is it a trance? Or a dance? Yes.

There are some apparent references here: a good portion of Les Disques du Crépuscule, some kraut-esque electronica, even a smidgen of Morricone / Spaghetti Western, blending into a kind of Musique Noir – yet these serve as a set of orientational coordinates, rather than quotations.

This is so far the most assured release by Periode, perhaps eschewing some of the naiveté that was wilfully cultivated in earlier output – there is no cheeky cover version this time. And no singing either. The nine pieces have the quality of a series, a variation on a mood, or a subset of moods. What emerges is an inviting swagger in the face of bleakness. There is a profound melancholy, but it is not the darker kind, and does not exclude humour.

First impressions may suggest that this is purely nocturnal music. Yet it equally evokes the harsh sunlight and baking summer heat. Or a rainy day. And transportation: the music suggests the motion of travel, even if that travel only happens within the mind. And waiting. Waiting while doing nothing much. Because that's all you can do. (Alexander Paulick)

This album is about growth... Living and learning, having fun, wordplay, heartbreak, and moving on. Flashes in the dark is pretty much a testament to what can be done with two turntables and a mic to create something different yet brilliant in the hip hop space. The album also shows maturity and a certain vulnerability not being expressed by a lot of other artists at this time.
There is so much going on in the world and this album is J Scienide's expression of what was going on in his world during the time of recording. "As soon as I got beats from Giallo if I was up in the wee hours of the night, I was writing and recording. To me this album shows that even in the darkest hours there's always flashes of brilliance that shine through".

This album is about growth... Living and learning, having fun, wordplay, heartbreak, and moving on. Flashes in the dark is pretty much a testament to what can be done with two turntables and a mic to create something different yet brilliant in the hip hop space. The album also shows maturity and a certain vulnerability not being expressed by a lot of other artists at this time.
There is so much going on in the world and this album is J Scienide's expression of what was going on in his world during the time of recording. "As soon as I got beats from Giallo if I was up in the wee hours of the night, I was writing and recording. To me this album shows that even in the darkest hours there's always flashes of brilliance that shine through".

Hello Spiral returns to the same North London block, the same triangulated geometry of balconies and courtyard, but with a shift of orientation. His previous record looked outward from the eighth floor, these four new recordings move inside, into the building’s arteries. Joe explores the hallways of the complex where he has lived and listened for years, using the same tool as before, an iPhone and its voice memo app. The recordings were made in situ, each exactly eleven minutes, captured without ceremony.

The hallways feel different. Less private, less scenic, more neutral. They are the connective tissue between hundreds of domestic units, a space of transit rather than rest. The carpet absorbs certain frequencies. The fire doors catch and release pockets of air. The lights hum. Elevators drone in soft cycles of arrival and departure. These are the institutional sounds of shared living, yet once recorded they begin to behave strangely. A kind of internal weather appears.

As with the previous album, Joe remains attentive to what is often overlooked, irrelevant or discarded. The hallways, with their scuffs and signage, their coded access and polite functionalism, provide an unexpectedly rich field. The ambience is not shaped by storms or scaffolding, not by birds or street spill. Instead the material is the building’s own breath, its mechanical rhythms, the low frequency traces of neighbours, the occasional shuffle of footsteps that pass but do not return.

Joe talks about this record as a possible middle chapter in a trilogy. If so, it sits between the exposed openness of the balcony and whatever comes next. A hinge point. These recordings continue Joe’s long practice of defamiliarization, sharpening attention to the unnoticed while withholding narrative. They invite repeated listening, not for revelation, but for the subtle shifts that occur when a familiar space is treated as an instrument.

Gelbes Vinyl, limitiert auf 200 Exemplare. Exklusiv für den Indie-Handel. Kommt mit Texblatt und Downloadcode. Great Resignation! So wird das massenhafte Kündigen von Bullshitjobs während der Corona-Pandemie bezeichnet. Die Verweigerung die eigene Arbeitskraft zu den widrigsten Bedingungen zu verkaufen, wenn es nicht mal zum Leben reicht. Auch wenn man sowieso bald wieder ran muss - nur für einen Moment spüren, die Macht zu haben alles lahm zu legen, hörten einfach alle auf: Wertschöpfung, Broligarchie, Kaufland, Deutschland. pogendroblem haben sich also nochmal zusammengerauft und ein neues Album gemacht. Drei Jahre für ein neues Album? In der Tat: Great Resignation. Oder zu wenig die Brotjobs gekündigt? Und wenn sie die Arbeit so hassen, warum haben sich pogendroblem dann noch weiter in die Musikindustrie reinbegeben? Widersprüche schärfen und aushalten. Ambiguitätstoleranz. Nachdem AWINHSMK Ende 2022 bei Audiolith erschien, ging es für die Band wild hin- und her zwischen Pop-Festivals, Punkbühnen, Preisverleihungen und Solishows für selbstverwaltete Kulturzentren oder gegen die extreme Rechte. Nun der Nachfolger Great Resignation bei Kidnap. Das Schulterklopfen der Kulturförderung darf natürlich auch nicht fehlen. Zwölf Tracks auf 1:22 bis 2:30. Ästhetisch nochmal diversifiziert und dennoch aus einem Guss, entstanden unter Regie von Gregor Hennig im Studio Nord Bremen, gemischt von Daniel Roesberg und gemastert von Christian Bethge. Musikalisch klarer und pointierter als zuvor. Obviously (Post-)Punk, poppige Niedlichkeit, Garage Vibes, bisschen Hamburger Schule, bisschen Kraut, etwas düsterere Gitarren und natürlich Brotschneidemaschine durch FX geballert. Große Resignation! Die große Traurigkeit zieht sich durch die Platte hindurch, auch in den auf den ersten Blick lustigen Liedern. Denn hier sind sich pogendroblem treu geblieben, es geht um absurde Alltagsgeschichten, um Subjektivierung, die nicht mehr zu funktionieren scheint. Um Fragmentierung von Gesellschaft, Arbeitsbeziehungen, der Linken. Wie durch die Zeit der Monster (Antonio Gramsci) navigieren, fragen pogendroblem. Wie weiter machen gegen Faschisierung und Klimakrise? Klar ist: Es kann nicht immer so weitergehen.

20 page book with gold foiled cover, featuring photographs from 1960s in and around Sunderland.

Romeo’s Fall is an original score for voice by artist and composer EXLRUTH (Ruth Hughes), a new work traversing romance and romanticism in a post-industrial North East England. Performed by countertenor Nik Rawlings with accompanying double bass from Caius Williams.

Informed by congregation, community and euphoria, exploring the meeting points of contemporary dance music cultures, traditional hymnal form, and the sonic appropriation and influence of regional industry, influenced by the legacy of the New Monkey. Addressing alternative trajectories of communion; on dancefloors (Makina) versus the nuclear act of togetherness within an industrial Northern landscape (classical/hymnal form).

This book features images taken from recently developed family super8, taken in and around Sunderland - 1960's onwards.

Rising from the ashes of Timebox, Patto delivered a bold fusion of progressive rock, jazz, and blues powered by Mike Patto’s soulful vocals and Ollie Halsall’s stunning guitar work. Their second album, Hold Your Fire (1971), originally on Vertigo, is a true gem of early ’70s progressive rock.

Original artwork in gimmix gatefold sleeve. Remastered by Prof. Stoned. Insert with detailed liner notes by Ralph Heibutzki and rare photos / memorabilia.

“…an exceptionally fine album, with songs and playing of a standard rarely achieved in rock music…” - Nick Saloman (Bevis Frond)

Hiver completes a trilogy of EPs on Gudu with ‘Blue Hell’, another transmission of space-age machine funk from a duo who are truly shaping their own soundworld.

If you’ve followed Hiver, you should know the deal by now: they’ve spent the last decade honing a sound that draws heavily from dance music history – namely the starry-eyed synthesizer funk of classic techno and electro – that drips in colour and emotion without ever feeling retrograde. ‘Blue Hell’ is their third EP for Gudu, and maybe their most accomplished yet.

In Hiver’s words, “this EP was shaped by a mix of late night club energy and the more introspective, melodic ideas we’ve been exploring in the past years. A big part of it also comes from the tension between how people connect today. This constant, hyper-connected flow of networks, media, and online exchanges and our own way of creating music, which is very physical and personal. We’re always bouncing ideas through messages and files, but the real magic still happens when we meet in the studio, face to face. That contrast between digital connection and human presence became a sort of hidden theme behind the EP.”

“With Blue Hell, our third chapter on Gudu, we wanted to capture a moment of clarity, something direct yet still drifting. In a way, this release completes the excursion we began with the first two records: three points that trace the contours of the sounds we’re drawn to. Each track feels like a fragment of that journey, grounded in rhythm but always leaning toward depth and escape.”

On »Empty Room,« David Granström works with slow transformations, cyclical and isometric patterns as well as just intonation as a way to create harmonic stability, allowing his long-form pieces to develop their own unique temporal and spatial qualities. A prolific figure in Stockholm’s experimental drone scene and a collaborator of Hallow Ground label mates Maria W Horn and Mats Erlandsson, the Swedish composer navigates through moments of quietude and crushing volume on these five tracks. Sonically and atmospherically, the pieces on »Empty Room« simultaneously call to mind Fennesz’s most meditative work or the physical experience of seeing Sunn O))) live, blending guitar recordings and synthesised sounds with forceful effects similar to those of Mario Díaz de Leon’s Oneirogen project while still being as moving and delicate as Alessandro Cortini’s solo work. The album is marked by melodies and harmonies that are the product of a peculiar working process that turned the composer into an intent listener collaborating with, rather than simply using technology.

Having been invited by the self-organising artist group The Non Existent Center for a residency to Ställbergs Gruva, a defunct iron ore mine in Sweden’s Bergslagen region, Granström took his guitar as a starting point for his compositional work that heavily relies on real-time sound synthesis. »I seldomly use the instrument as a sound source in the final compositions and rather transcribe and orchestrate the harmonic structures using sound synthesis,« he explains. »On this album however, I chose to include the actual recordings of the guitar in order to extend the spectra between non-referential synthetic sounds and embodied referential sounds.« Working with precise tunings in order to blend the timbre of the synthesis with the harmonic structures of the composition, he created composite sound objects in which the harmonic elements blend into each other.

Through the re-amplification of synthetic musical materials from the inside of the abandoned mine, his original compositions were enriched with site-specific sound qualities before he further refined them in a singular working process. Granström works with algorithmic and generative processes, using the SuperCollider programming environment and thus blurring the lines between generative and creative forms of composition. »One of the things that I like about this way of working is that it creates a distance between myself as a composer and myself as a listener of the music that is produced entirely by the system,« he says. Granström’s technologically aided eschewing of the conventions of composing doesn’t make the end result any less personal, however. By listening again and again to the newly generated output, Granström simply took on a different role in the process of finalising the music, with the technology and the sounds becoming his co-authors.

By creating systems that generate music, he gains a new perspective on (musical) time, says Granström. »There doesn't have to be a fixed length to the music at all,« he explains. »And by writing music with this in mind, my focus tends to shift towards writing cyclical structures that gradually change and transform over time.« Simple parts, in other words, that emerge as the five complex wholes that form »Empty Room,« a record that itself seems to take on different forms with every new listen.

A chopped-and-screwed love letter to the sounds of rebajada – half-speed cumbia, pioneered by Sonido Dueñez in the 1990s, and born from an overheated turntable motor that didn’t make the crowd stop dancing. With Debit’s treatment, rebajada becomes an ethereal, at times intense ambient tapestry that’s also a history lesson.

Spend any amount of time pacing the streets of Monterrey, the bustling city in the north of Mexico where Delia Beatriz, aka Debit, grew up, and you’ll be sure to catch traces of cumbia echoing from Bluetooth speakers, DIY soundsystems, or car stereos. An Afro-Latin dance form and »practica cultural« originating in Colombia in the early 19th century, cumbia evolved rapidly in the early 1900s, as a localised sound played on drums and flutes quickly modernised to integrate European instrumentation like the accordion. When it reached Mexico in the 1940s, the sound shifted again, fusing with mariachi styles and integrating further vallenato folk elements. Eventually, cumbia spread across the entirety of Latin America, splintering into a spectrum of different musical styles such as chicha in Peru, and cumbia villera in Argentina. And over in Monterrey, cumbia inadvertently found its own idiosyncratic groove.

From the 1950s to the 1970s, waves of immigrants from across Mexico and Latin America headed to Monterrey to find work, making a home in Colonia Independencia. Colombian cumbia records, shipped in from Mexico City, Houston, and Miami, became the soundtrack of the neighbourhood, relaying familiar stories to a rural working class adjusting to their new industrial reality. The sound struck a chord with locals, and huge street parties hosted by ramshackle soundsystems known as sonideros unified the diverse community. So when cumbia rebajada materialised serendipitously in the 1990s, it emphasised and highlighted the memory distortions at the heart of the immigrant experience. Local record collector, selector, and sonidero Gabriel Dueñez had been playing cumbia for hours one night when disaster struck: his turntable’s motor overheated and slowed down, turning the music into a warped groan, with half-speed voices echoing over wobbly accordion drones and splashy drums. But the crowd kept dancing, and Sonido Dueñez realised he’d struck gold – cumbia rebajada was born.

Over the next few years, he dubbed a popular series of mixtapes, hawking them at the flea market on the dried-up Santa Catarina riverbed beneath El Puente del Papa, the bridge that links downtown Monterrey with Independencia. These woozy archives became the stuff of legend, poetically but subconsciously shadowing DJ Screw’s series of epochal cassettes that appeared over the border in Houston. Beatriz uses Sonido Dueñez’s first two tapes as the starting point for »Desaceleradas«, entering into a dialogue with time, culture, and geography as she recalls the sonic ecosystem that surrounded her decades ago, long before she emigrated to the USA. If 2022’s acclaimed »The Long Count« was an attempt to recover concealed pre-Columbian history in the face of colonisation, »Desaceleradas« jumps forward, figuring out how memory and shared celebration can resist a more contemporary form of cultural erasure. As AI systems scrape, blend, and decontextualise culture around us, leaving vapid slop, »Desaceleradas« proposes a slower, more careful, and ultimately more human kind of engagement. It’s an archive with a pulse.

"An Eternity Still" delves into the theme of closure, capturing the emotional journey of closing one chapter and beginning another. It evokes a stirring blend of nostalgia and the need to move forward, balancing bright memories with the desire for growth and new challenges.

For this project, Vanity Productions' Christian Stadsgaard teamed up with close collaborators Emma Acs and Malthe Fischer, who joined in the compositional process. While the album maintains Stadsgaard's signature melancholia, it also introduces a fresh sonic palette, incorporating vocals and guitar alongside the project's hallmark broken electronics and dark, evocative melodies.

The Album also features remixes by acclaimed artists Farzané and Ireen Amnes, further enriching the album's collaborative spirit and adding new dimensions to its haunting soundscapes.