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50 years after the genre turned the music world upside-down, GRADE 2 bring the raw power of old school punk to a new generation. Their second release on Tim Armstrong"s legendary Hellcat Records is a thumping 15 track tour de force melding the uncompromising ethos of punk with the howl of contemporary injustice, personal identity and frustrations of Gen-Z youth, authentically told by three lads with punk coursing through their veins. Formed on their native Isle of Wight when they were just 14 years old, Jack Chatfield (guitar & vocals), Jacob Hull (drums) and Sid Ryan (bass & vocals) honed their craft covering punk pioneers before creating a sound uniquely theirs: ten years on, the eponymous Grade 2 is their magnum opus. The new album was produced by the band along with Tim Timebomb (Armstrong) and T.J. Rivers at Armstrong"s Ship Rec Studio in Los Angeles. "Returning to Ship Rec Studio resparked that magic dynamic" says guitarist Jack Chatfield. "When we"re in there I feel like we reach our full potential. Tim would offer tweaks and tips for some songs, while others he"d compliment as finished first time we played them." "We worked flat-out recording this record," says drummer Jacob Hull, "but we never felt pressured, Tim keeping us in the zone to make the best tunes of our lives.

Romanian groove technician SEPP lands on _NRV with a trio of high-powered, floor-primed cuts. 'Feeling Ma Bass' opens up with weighty low-end pressure and a hypnotic pulse that locks you in early. 'Body Language' twists with crisp percussion and a woozy sense of movement, keeping tension tight throughout. 'Do You Love Me’ dips into moodier territory, with dusty textures and a vocal loop that cuts just enough to keep the floor leaning in.

The hypnagogic haze of purling, refractive dub is strong on Sleepdial’s debut for West Mineral, introducing a crafty new name to the scene after a teasing preview on that Peak Oil x NWAQ radio show, delivering a heavy-lidded dose of tattered ambient dub inversions.

Sleepdial chases a frayed thread of thought thru the fractal echo chambers of ‘RV Lights’, only their 2nd full-length under this alias, and first on vinyl. The 9-part album is optimised for getting smudged on sunny daze with its pursuit of elusive dub sprites that connote subaquatic or vaporous etheric themes in their elemental diffusions and world-building ecologies.

In equilibrium of ambient and dub-as-method, they tenderly tease the senses with a fine grasp of deferred gratification, oscillating abstract spatial navigations and ephemeral moments of heart-in-mouth euphoria. Where sometimes this stuff can err to a pleasant mess, the dub ballast here anchors proceedings in a rugged groove that really pushes the right buttons and elevates the whole thing in its own air.

Blessed with a compelling sensuality, tracks follow a course from the compressed contrails of ‘Purview’ to the helical shapes of ‘Dovetailing’ and thru beautifully pill-bellied sensations on ‘Icarus Rising’, into ruggeder, insectoid dub in ‘Blue August’ to short circuit agitated and soothing feels. That fractured sort of duality manifests at its most anxious yet enchanted in the unpicked strings and astral scree of ‘Lightplay’, and in the title and feel of ‘Lean Angst’, gently keeping heads on toes into the swirling pressure system of album sign-off ‘Airtank’.

Le Chatroom, a record label established in 2016 by the English producer Kouslin, searches for the missing link between underground bass music and outer national sounds. Its music is defined by the blend of synthetic and organic tones, modern / classic instruments and low- end heavy percussive rhythms.

Pushing artists from all around the globe that share the same love for this newfound sound, Kouslin's aim with Le Chatroom is to promote musical diversity, open-mindedness and experimentation at a time when unity between cultures is crucial. With 'LCR001' the label advances into a new physical environment from which this release should be experienced.

Real talk and native percussion establish the steady climax of 'Brothers', the A-side of Le Chatroom's inaugural wax release. Kouslin cuts through this sediment with a bright flute, before the state of the sound switches into something far darker and meditative. By placing several samples at irregular intervals, the Londoner achieves a fascinating charm that'll unite us all.

Booming bass in 'Gyals' lingers with a steady pace while percy tribal hits forge a raw groove that's far from common. With this movement, the producer from Bristol disintegrates the sense of a generic production and sticks to his true nature. Through this it becomes clear that Galtier has his polyrhythms down to a science.

Londoner Sheik clinches the B-side with a craze that unveils a nearly psychotic sense of sample architecture. Pushing crystal clear 808 kicks in- between the haunting atmospheres and a wall of pressure simply becomes one of his most inventive takes documented on wax. If you love to swerve through a minefield, the odd 'Oxram' would be your favourite pick off this first outline.

The three producers that feature on 'LCR001' pass on their fundamentals to conjure Le Chatroom's philosophy red-handed. Together they do the imprint's name justice by handing over critical bass repertoire that'll excite many!

Set in the pressure cooker of fresh adulthood, Jahnah Camille's defiant new EP My sunny oath! is a guitar-based grab at self-acceptance. Romping through alt-rock, lo-fi grit, and sardonic grunge with unflinching momentum, the new six-song collection channels Jahnah's era-agnostic songwriting influences, from The Sundays and Liz Phair to Minnie Riperton and Japanese Breakfast. Largely written before a breakout year including tours opening for Luna Li, Tops, and Blondshell, My sunny oath! is set in stormy self-development. Dreamily layered vocals, modern shoegaze sheen, and keyboard lines accompany Jahnah's ear-worming guitar parts and coyly detached tone, as she pushes through the muck of outgrown relationships, misogyny, and hometown anxiety with the help of producer Alex Farrar (Wednesday, Indigo De Souza, MJ Lenderman). The clear-eyed sonic expansion of My sunny oath! marks a decisively bold, exploratory new direction for Camille's sound with fearless hooks and swirling production abound. It's a messy, vulnerable, and inviting picture of early adulthood.

Set in the pressure cooker of fresh adulthood, Jahnah Camille's defiant new EP My sunny oath! is a guitar-based grab at self-acceptance. Romping through alt-rock, lo-fi grit, and sardonic grunge with unflinching momentum, the new six-song collection channels Jahnah's era-agnostic songwriting influences, from The Sundays and Liz Phair to Minnie Riperton and Japanese Breakfast. Largely written before a breakout year including tours opening for Luna Li, Tops, and Blondshell, My sunny oath! is set in stormy self-development. Dreamily layered vocals, modern shoegaze sheen, and keyboard lines accompany Jahnah's ear-worming guitar parts and coyly detached tone, as she pushes through the muck of outgrown relationships, misogyny, and hometown anxiety with the help of producer Alex Farrar (Wednesday, Indigo De Souza, MJ Lenderman). The clear-eyed sonic expansion of My sunny oath! marks a decisively bold, exploratory new direction for Camille's sound with fearless hooks and swirling production abound. It's a messy, vulnerable, and inviting picture of early adulthood.

Die selbstbetitelte Debüt-LP von Blushing erhält eine lang erwartete Wiederveröffentlichung und wird zum ersten Mal seit 2019 auf Vinyl erhältlich sein. Dieses spezielle Reissue enthält einen exklusiven, neuen Remix von ,So Many" von Oliver Ackermann (A Place to BuryStrangers) und ein komplettes Remaster von Kurt Feldman (The Pains of BeingPure at Heart, The Depreciation Guild, Ice Choir). Das Vinyl kommt mit transparentem blau/grünem Farbeffekt in limitierter Auflage und mit einem 12" x 24" großen Einleger mit Texten und einer Fotocollage von den Aufnahmen, der Veröffentlichung und der Tournee. ,Blushing" war die erste Zusammenarbeit der Band mit dem ihrem langjährigen Produzent/Engineer Elliott Frazier (Ringo Deathstarr). Der Gruppe gelang es, ihr Songwriting-Potenzial mit schweren Riffs, hakenreichen Refrains und hochfliegenden Gesang zu verbinden und ihre spezifische Art von "heavy" Dream Pop zu kristallisieren.

This is not the end of a dark alleyway in some US city, this is not the bottom of a platform heel in England, this is not the back corner of some dusty drawer at a record fair in Holland. These are not the places you’ll find rock and roll. This is Quebec: A different sensory perception of rock and roll. A heightened awareness of the highest highs and the lowest lows. This is Belgium with snowmobiles, Catholic Texas, Ugly France. All the crumbling highways, the coldest beers, and the loudest joints. Guitars do different things in Quebec. PUFFER shimmy across the invisible barricade between Montreal and the rest of the world not just as another crop of punks but as the great descendants and inheritors of modern greats like INEPSY’s “Rock and Roll Babylon” and ANNIHILATION TIME's “II.” Loud, brash, unrelenting. You’ll go deaf before you get bored of it.
Self produced, self recorded, and mixed by the band, this is the vanguard of punk that has lived long beyond it’s moments of origin. This pure blast of 1979 by way of the hellish weimar end-times of 2025 never made the necessity of punk rock feel so real.
FFO SLAUGHTER AND THE DOGS, the 222s, THE DISCORDS, MOTORHEAD, INEPSY, AA Restaurant, Montreal pool room, Katacombes, and the eternal flame of punk in La Belle Provence.

E-bony joins the INDUSTRIAS MEKANIKAS family to present DIGITAL DAWN, an album that defines his identity as an artist. Twelve tracks in which electro and techno intertwine to create a unique and personal sound. A sonic manifesto composed of twelve tracks that explore the darkest textures and the most hypnotic rhythms of underground electronic.

In this work, E-bony is not alone. The talent of Noamm is woven into four of the tracks, adding an additional layer of complexity and experimentation. The collaboration between both artists creates a unique synergy, elevating the DIGITAL DAWN proposal to a new level.

DIGITAL DAWN is released in 2×12″ format, a format that is still preferred by DJs and lovers of high-quality sound, guaranteeing a quality and sound pressure that will explode on the dance floor.

We’re hyped to welcome back the French producer Carriego, who already made waves with a standout EP on our sister label Cosa Vostra. This time, he lands on Griffé with a four-tracker that dives deep into stripped-back grooves, rhythmic precision, and textured soundscapes.

True to his style, Carriego merges Detroit roots with early 2000s minimal vibes—tight drum machine programming, detailed sound design, and a strong focus on mood and arrangement. The drums hit with intent, and every element feels built for purpose.

The EP unfolds like a proper journey: Hazard sets the tone with tension and space—ideal for an opening move. The Bridge follows up with drive and pressure, perfect for peak-time intensity. Curtain Call brings in a hypnotic, late-night energy, subtly nodding to the Time Passages spirit—refined, trippy, and deep. Then comes Seems Like to close the ride—more introspective, with a dub techno edge that lets everything breathe again.

Techno, minimal, electro, dub—Carriego connects the dots without forcing it. Just functional, thoughtful club music that works on multiple levels.

Dr. John's Gumbo is the fifth album by New Orleans singer and pianist Dr. John, a tribute to the music of his native city. The album is a collection of covers of New Orleans classics, played by a major figure in the city's music.

Dr John's Gumbo was released in 1972 and is in many ways a tribute by Dr. John, aka the Night Tripper, to his hometown of New Orleans. It features excellent interpretations of New Orleans traditionals ("Iko Iko", "Tipitina", "Junko Partner" and "Stack-O-Lee") and contemporary R&B written or played by the likes of Huey Piano Smith ("Blow Wind Blow" and "Huey Smith Medley") and Earl King ("Big Chief" and "Those Lonely Lonely Nights").

Dr. John delivers a strong set of infectious songs drenched in good vibes and spiced with a pinch of voodoo. His eccentric (stage) appearance adds unique color to his stature as master of the ivories and as an entertainer.

We expect this definitive deluxe 180-gram 45 RPM 2LP Analogue Productions (Atlantic Series) reissue of Dr. John's Gumbo to be a cherished addition to the music collections of all fans of New Orleans classics.

Stripping away all expectations, constraints, pressures, and limitations, there’s a certain purity and allure to art crafted simply for the sake of genuine expression. The desire to unleash one’s unencumbered ingenuity and unique vision into the world is an attitude embraced by those often celebrated for pushing boundaries, and it’s under this same premise that German newcomers SENNA were formed.
Drawing their name from the Arabic word for brightness, shine, or glow, bandmates Simon Masdjedi (vocals), Tobias Stulz (guitar/ vocals), Marcel Dürr (guitar), Fabian Cattarius (bass), and Leon Dorn(drums), never intended for SENNA–a musical outlet originally established as a studio side project–to come into its own as a fully-fledged unit. Yet, tackling a luminous blend of playful but technical instrumentation and edgy hard rock meets progressive post-hardcore styling, it’s only fitting that both the innovative outfit and their introductory work have entered the limelight for all to enjoy.
“It was really liberating,” guitarist Marcel Dürr recalls the group’s mindset leading up to their SharpTone debut. “Because we weren’t pursuing SENNA as a proper band at first, we had a lot of time to experiment with our sound. Our goal was to simply write the music that we enjoyed, without being boxed into any one genre.

Stripping away all expectations, constraints, pressures, and limitations, there’s a certain purity and allure to art crafted simply for the sake of genuine expression. The desire to unleash one’s unencumbered ingenuity and unique vision into the world is an attitude embraced by those often celebrated for pushing boundaries, and it’s under this same premise that German newcomers SENNA were formed.
Drawing their name from the Arabic word for brightness, shine, or glow, bandmates Simon Masdjedi (vocals), Tobias Stulz (guitar/ vocals), Marcel Dürr (guitar), Fabian Cattarius (bass), and Leon Dorn(drums), never intended for SENNA–a musical outlet originally established as a studio side project–to come into its own as a fully-fledged unit. Yet, tackling a luminous blend of playful but technical instrumentation and edgy hard rock meets progressive post-hardcore styling, it’s only fitting that both the innovative outfit and their introductory work have entered the limelight for all to enjoy.
“It was really liberating,” guitarist Marcel Dürr recalls the group’s mindset leading up to their SharpTone debut. “Because we weren’t pursuing SENNA as a proper band at first, we had a lot of time to experiment with our sound. Our goal was to simply write the music that we enjoyed, without being boxed into any one genre.

Co-Accused are back for their first release of 2025 with a dose of raw and relentless techno from one of Glasgow’s most solid of underground forces Fear-E. 9 Darter EP presents four slabs of peak-time pressure, polished with the refined edge of the Posh End Music boss’s production. No surprise this EP is in parts inspired by the sounds of UK techno legend Dave Angel and in others of the general free-wheeling ethos of the 90s - feeling as relentless as a basement session in that golden era.

Fear-E has built a reputation as a beacon of putting out high quality club tracks through his career, releasing on the likes of Dame Music, Dixon Avenue Basement Jams and Dark Entries, while also running his own imprint Posh End Music alongside its hardcore-driven sister label Breakbeat Energy. His records are regularly supported by the likes of Dave Clarke, Ben Sims, The Hacker, Randomer, Jerome Hill, Marcel Dettmann, and James Ruskin, with airplay on BBC Radio 1 and 6 Music.

Claire Chicha aka Spill Tab is feeling more free than ever before. The LA-based, French-Korean songwriter and producer,has spent the past five years as spill tab honing a sound that is as raw-edged as it is refined, channelling low-slung guitar-strumming confessionals as well as the earworming melodic hooks of anthemic pop to produce a heady and distinctive mix.

Following the 2019 release of her intimate and infectious debut single “Decompose”, Spill Tab has evolved her spill tab project through three EPs: 2020’s synth-pop influenced Oatmilk, 2021’s playful, uptempo Bonnie, featuring Gus Dapperton and Tommy Genesis, and 2023’s co-produced, sonically-intricate Klepto, which gleefully meanders from the Hiatus Kaiyote-influenced jazz freakouts of “CRÈME BRÛLÉE!” to the guitar-chugging thump of “Splinter”. Live, meanwhile, Spill Tab has been tapped for her explosively energetic presence to open the North American leg of popstar Sabrina Carpenter’s tour, as well as touring through Australia with alt-rock trio Wallows.
With “PINK LEMONADE”, opening single from her forthcoming debut album “ANGIE” , spill tab’s freewheeling sound finds its fullest expression, harnessing this onstage experience and recorded experimentation with her bass-weight and pitched-up vocals. Here we find Chicha only ever chasing that “weird thing”, fizzing with an infectious enthusiasm and intricate musicianship. “The best songs come from writing the main idea in a day, as it’s so instinctual,” she says, such as “PINK LEMONADE” recorded “from a clip taken out of a 40-minute jam that we then chopped and spliced”.
Born to her French Algerian composer father and Korean pianist mother, Claire Chicha spent her early childhood in the mixing room of her parents’ LA post-production studio, bringing coffees to artists as they tracked scores for exciting new projects. “I hung out in that studio all the time until I was around 10 years old, absorbing jazz music my dad was into and classical music that my mom loved,” Chicha says. “My mom had a big hand in making me an adventurous kid, always trying new things from piano to harp and violin, forever soaking up new sounds.”

At 12, Chicha’s life was uprooted as she relocated to Thailand to live with her mother’s family following the collapse of her parents’ business after the 2008 recession. What followed was an unstable and formative few years of early teenagedom, navigating new cultures and life changes. In Thailand, Chicha began learning guitar to cover the Paramore and Green Day tracks she had grown to love while also becoming immersed in Thai traditional music. After a year, she moved once more to live with her aunt in Paris and there she was introduced to the classic sound of Serge Gainsbourg and Édith Piaf before ultimately returning to LA following the untimely death of her father.

“I had to become a real people person to fit in everywhere I was moving, and it immersed me into so many different styles of music,” she says. “I went from listening to the nasal singing of Thai traditional music at muay thai fights in Bangkok, to emotive classic French songs. It definitely informed the need to experiment with my sound as I became more interested in making music.”

At high school in LA, Chicha joined one of the country’s foremost show choirs and realised a natural aptitude for stagecraft and performance as she sang medleys in competitions throughout the US. Going on to study Music Business at NYU, Chicha found a love for the alternative soul and singer-songwriting of the likes of Moses Sumney and Bon Iver, as well as developing her own sound while spending summers interning as an A&R at Atlantic Records and being exposed to the gamut of New York’s live music scene.

“I was going to so many shows as an A&R intern and seeing just how much a lot of music sounded alike,” she says. “It made me realise I wanted my music to feel different, to cut through the noise but still make something that felt honest to me.”

Beginning to independently release tracks, Soill Tab gradually built a loyal fanbase with the release of wistful early numbers “Calvaire” and “Cotton Candy” and soon found herself signed to a major label. Yet, as her career progressed through the COVID pandemic the demands of a corporate major began to conflict with her own searching style. “My last two EPs were under contract and it felt like I was always chasing the carrot,” she says, “I felt a certain pressure to put out tracks quickly and find that ‘hit’. It wasn’t the right environment to truly make what I wanted.”

Ultimately parting ways with her label, Chicha began work on a new album, exploring new sounds and ideas with her LA-based community of collaborators like producer David Marinelli, Solomonophonic, Wyatt and Austin and John DeBold, without expectation. “It became this beautiful experience of only following ideas that I really believed in and exploring all the musical avenues I hadn’t before,” she says. “I’ve never been more excited about songs and I’ve never felt like a project is more mine.”

Writing and recording while touring with Sabrina Carpenter and Wallows, Chicha road-tested her new tracks to see what might land best with an audience who had likely never heard her music before. “You have to win people’s hearts as an opener and you can see what resonates and what doesn’t,” she says. “I would watch people fall in love or not and it’s usually always the song you’re having the most fun with that does the best. That’s what I put on the record.”

« Angie », Spill’s Tab debut album is relased on because Music and expected for May 16th release.

Australia's left-field club renaissance keeps flowering, and Horatio Luna's cult 2020 debut Yes Doctor remains an essential root document. The LP welds dub-soaked bass pressure, broken-beat jack and smoky nu-jazz improv onto a house chassis—picture Moodymann deep cuts drifting through Dadawah's spiritual haze. Championed by Gilles Peterson after Luna appeared on Brownswood's Sunny Side Up compilation—where drummer Phil Stroud and synth maestro Dufresne also featured—the record was pieced together across 2019 during a run of late-night sessions while Hicks was living in the La Sape house. La Sape's brand-new 2025 pressing (cat. SAPE00825) uses freshly cut plates and presents the full ten-track programme on 140 g black vinyl. The package features subtle touch-ups to the jacket artwork and refreshed centre-label stickers while preserving the original aesthetic. "Yes Doctor is my coming-of-age—mixing every style I could think of into house, pushing aesthetic boundaries, making 'un-boxable' music," Luna says. File next to Theo Parrish and Yesterday's New Quintet: DJs will lock onto the title track's seven-minute bruk workout, while deeplistening customers will cherish the front-to-back journey in groove alchemy.

As one of the most prolific and influential producers of the last thirty years, The Hacker’s imprint on electronic music already spans genres, eras and scene revolutions. And still, there’s more. In spirited collaboration with friend and fellow French journeyman Endrik Schroeder, the first release from The Hacker & Endrik Schroeder Project eschews EBM excess or gritty electro. Instead, two introductory tracks slip into the continuum of evergreen underground techno, influenced in equal part by the digital soul of Detroit, and the futurist experimentations of Sheffield.

Quickly escalating from a classic beat to a hoover-rave ascent determined to fill the vacuum of any warehouse, ‘Puissance’ is an unapologetic anthem that doubles as an elegant and impactful introduction to the Hacker & Schroeder partnership. Hypnotising dancers with ever-more forceful acid oscillations, the pair masterfully stave off the pressure with a wide-eyed organ riff, played live and direct from rave heaven.

‘The Voyagers’ contrasts with a cosmic groove, certain to satisfy heads-down bleep purists, while dedicating time and space for the charisma and quirks of this machine-led dance to shine through, including emotional pads and whispering voices, par excellence.

Berlin-based French-Irish multimedia artist Zoe Mc Pherson levels up on their third full-length "Pitch Blender", mangling years of experience DJing and performing live into a tight set of cybernetic soundsystem experiments that flicker between the rave and the art space.

Cast your mind back to February 2020 for a moment, when Mc Pherson released their last album "States of Fugue". The world seemed less tangled somehow, and yet Mc Pherson's precision-engineered fusion of exploratory sound design and visceral club pressure seemed to hint at a cataclysmic event none of us were really expecting. Only a few weeks after its release the world changed forever, and the majority of us were grounded - forced to consider our lives and the movement (or lack thereof) surrounding us. The philosophy of this extended time period is welded into the bones of "Pitch Blender", Mc Pherson's supple third album. They have learned plenty in the last two years, and infuse all of that anxiety and spiky emotionality into a spread of tracks that sound as powerful in headphones as they do over a well-tweaked soundsystem, soldering vocals, environmental recordings and instrumental flourishes to unpredictably pneumatic, cybernetic beats.

Anyone that's caught one of Mc Pherson's energetic live performances over the last few months will have an idea of what "Pitch Blender" is made of. They're an artist who's somehow able to match the raw energy of post-punk and no-wave music with the brain-altering potential of the best experimental club tracks, vocalizing an incongruous post-lockdown reality over beats that sound as if they're in a permanent state of flux. 'On Fire' splutters to life in a frenetic patter of drums that blur into oddly soothing hoover sounds, snaking lysergically towards a drop that's teased constantly, and never comes. We're forced to wait until 'The Spark' for that, fighting through choppy, pitch-mangled guitar and rolling beats until a gruesome kick drum forces its way through the psilocybin mists and heaving Bristol-inspired bass clonks. Backed up with just the inverted traces of recognizable breaks, this vigorous pulse lies at the heart of "Pitch Blender", the driving force that powers Mc Pherson's sound even when it's only hinted at.

'Blender' is the moment where Mc Pherson show their full hand, using crackling sound effects, ghost vocals and uneven rhythms to build a textural landscape that's so evocative you can almost taste it. Squealing modular synth effects sound like gameshow buzzers being triggered in another dimension and propel the track forward - it's club music, just about, but Mc Pherson's motivation is world-building, and their world is colorful, abstract, and dizzyingly surreal. "Obsolete user," their voice echoes over driving airlock kicks. But they take a swift left turn with 'Lamella', reducing the kinetic club rhythms to a longing simmer and letting loose with powerful vocals, intoning with robotic, gender-fluxed intensity. On 'Wait', New York City's clacking crosswalk signal - already an effective club track on its own - is transformed into a reminder to slow down, juxtaposed with booming sub-heavy kicks, acidic synths and effervescent percussion that rattles in time with the vibrations. It's foley rave, built for pure psychedelic intensity to blur the line between real life and sonic fiction.

One of the album's most galvanic tracks, 'Power Dynamics' curves a double-time rhythm around breathless HQ sound design squiggles until it hits a polyrhythmic crescendo, striking a queasy balance between rave hedonism and ritualistic hand drum energy. It all builds towards eerie closing track 'Outside' that acts as an important wind down, spotlighting Mc Pherson's ability to operate outside of the rhythmic spectrum, using cinematic scrapes and flickering neon synths to create music that's tense but never terrifying. The track feels like the end credits of a particularly bewildering movie - something between the cyberpunk dystopia of "Ghost in the Shell" and the vivid, sky-scraping beauty of "Koyaanisqatsi". Mc Pherson has managed something special with "Pitch Blender": mashing together genres with rare focus, and sharpening their engineering skills to a fine point, they've concocted an antidote to contemporary malaise - a wakeup call that's begging us to loosen our limbs and move.

FABRICLIVE’s new incarnation as an artist-focussed label continues, with a stunning two-track 12” by the Hong Kong-born, Netherlands-based rising star Kiana Li, aka gyrofield.

Rooted in drum & bass but distinctly the sound of now, this single sparkles with freshness, and stands-out with an exquisite verve for detail and craft. Balmy and comforting, atmospheric and melodic, the cloudsurfing breakbeats and celestial propulsion of ‘Akin’ is pure friendly pressure, whilst on ‘Mother’ big vocals, low-end precision and techno swathes soar even higher.

“'Akin' and 'Mother' remind me of my earliest days writing dance music. These are two free-spirited, transportive pieces that feel like spreading my wings and letting the air take me. Brought skyward in the hand of fate, nurturing yet weathered by my very own ideals. We all wish for better days. And toil to heal.” gyrofield

gyrofield has released music on prominent labels including Critical, Overview and Noisia's Vision. Last year she released the album A Faint Glow of Bravery on Metalheadz, and the EP These Heavens for XL’s prestigious house bag series, which has previously showcased music by Blawan, Joy Orbison and Overmono.

gyrofield is a regular on NTS and an in-demand DJ, whilst radio/club support has come from Mary Anne Hobbs, Objekt, Special Request and DJ Flight. Press fans include Rolling Stone, Crack, The Quietus, The Fader, DJ Mag and Resident Advisor.

“Scintillating - a sonic portrait of heaven that takes drum & bass and imbues it with the divine” Resident Advisor

“An artist whose journey and sound are quite unlike those of anyone else” The FADER

“Her vivid productions are a breath of fresh air in the scene” DJ Mag

“Merging the atmospheric and experimental with the melodic and emotional” Crack

“Packed with shapeshifting sounds that examine the universe and beauty of nature. Fusing atmospheric and spaced-out sounds with danceable sonics” Dummy

"She will never sit comfortably in any one genre or play to expectations or rely on any standard production formulae” UKF

Back with a bang for 2025, FABRICLIVE re-enters the fabric Records fold, which also incorporates Houndstooth and fabric Originals.

Sextile, das in Los Angeles beheimatete Duo, das für seinen unbeugsamen, elektronischen Punk-Sound gefeiert wird, hat Details zu ihrem kommenden, starken Album „Yes, please.“ bekannt gegeben, das am 2. Mai 2025 auf Sacred Bones erscheint, sowie Pläne für eine umfangreiche Europatournee in diesem Sommer geteilt. Sextile, die sich derzeit mit ihren Labelkollegen Molchat Doma auf einer großen US-Tournee befinden, kündigen ihr neues Album mit der Single „Freak Eyes“ an, die ihren dunklen, pulsierenden Sound in neue Höhen treibt. Der Song beginnt mit einem fiesen Bass-Growl, das abrupt in einen Techno-Beat übergeht, der mit klirrender Kuhglocke und scharfer Hi-Hat gespickt ist. „I feel the pressure / Man the pressure I feel when we're together“, singt Sänger Brady Keehn kühl, aber bestimmt, in den ersten Zeilen. Inspiriert von der Art und Weise, wie Druck sowohl Herausforderungen als auch Verbesserungen hervorrufen kann, beschwört „Freak Eyes“ elektrisierende Bilder von schäbigen Hinterzimmern auf dem Sunset Strip und von in Leder gekleideten Tanzflächen in Lagerhäusern herauf.

Manche Bands finden ihren Groove und bleiben dabei, andere erfinden sich ständig neu. Sextile gehört zu den letzteren, die den Nervenkitzel einer sich ständig verändernden Landkarte genießen. Das Duo Melissa Scaduto und Brady Keehn aus Los Angeles macht Musik mit Lebenslust und lässt sich dabei von No Wave bis Hardstyle inspirieren. Ihr neuestes Album „yes, please.“ stößt in kühnes Neuland vor, indem es anarchisches Elektro-Feuer mit rohen persönlichen Erinnerungen verbindet - und mit genug aufgemotzten Bässen, um ein oder zwei Boxen zum Platzen zu bringen. „yes, please.“ ist ein Album der Kontraste: eine verletzliche Platte, die ihre Seele ebenso entblößt wie sie im Exzess schwelgt und zeigt, wie weit man seinen Sound treiben kann, wenn man seine Hemmungen abschüttelt. Zusammen verraten die beiden ein Selbstvertrauen, das niemals schwankt, und machen einen kühnen Spritzer auf dem schnellen Intro mit einer Rave-Sirene, die aus einer New Yorker Hausparty der `00er oder einem verschwitzten Brooklyn-Lagerhaus stammt. Auch der Geist des Electroclash pirscht sich an das Gebäude heran, zeigt seine Identität bei den mit Kuhglocken gespickten Donnerschlägen von „Freak Eyes“ und „Rearrange“ und sorgt mit „Women Respond to Bass“ für eine schmutzige Dancefloor-Bombe. „Push Ups“ - mit dem Gesang von Jehnny Beth - ist pure Muskelmusik, gestärkt durch einen wummernden Bass und ergänzt durch Synthies, die so hart hämmern wie Hagelkörner auf einem Glasdach. Aber hinter den Slogans, der Frechheit und der monstermäßigen Tanzenergie verbirgt sich eine Intimität, die man nur finden kann, wenn man sich über schmerzhafte, lebensverändernde Ereignisse öffnet. „Hospital“ und ‚Soggy Newports‘ reflektieren Scadutos erschütternde Erfahrungen in einer staatlichen Einrichtung in New York nach einem beinahe tödlichen Unfall. „Resist“ befasst sich mit Abtreibungsrechten, während ‚Penny Rose‘ das amerikanische Bildungswesen, künstliche Intelligenz und zukünftige Generationen thematisiert. Scadutos elastischer Gesang glänzt überall, von den messerscharfen Synthesizern von „S is For“ bis zu den Trance-Pop-Höhen von „Kids“ mit Izzy Glaudini von Automatic. „yes, please.“ ist eine actiongeladene Dance-Platte, vollgestopft mit wilden, berauschenden Gassenhauern, aber im gleichen Atemzug auch ein Zeugnis dafür, zu leben und niemals zurückzuschauen. Indem sie sich für eine neue, „befreiende“ Art des Musikmachens öffnen, haben Sextile ihr bisher kreativstes Werk geschaffen. Bisher, denn man spürt einfach, dass sie noch so viel mehr zu geben haben.

Sediment is an assemblage of field recordings made in the Swiss canton of Jura on a single day in August 2022. Jura's rock and limestone formations create a complex topology which hosts a diversity of sound spaces; human, more-than-human, geophonic, subterranean and extra-terrestrial. By walking and driving through this landscape curious pockets of activity are revealed to the listener. The layers of strata that make up Jura; earth, rock, forest, cables, pipes, factories, planes and radio towers inform the sound strata. These recordings incorporate and embrace these many layerings; the acoustic, radio, magnetic, vibrational, tectonic, resonant.

Over the course of a day Tim Shaw and Laurent Güdel followed their ears, they visited forests, mountains, rivers, hydroelectric plants, caves, radio broadcast towers, wind turbines, train tracks, sacred wells, man made tunnels and abandoned factories, harvesting sounds from this tangled and ever-changing soundscape. Using various listening devices they attempted to listen into the full spectrum of activity, hydrophonic, geophonic, air-pressure, electromagnetic and radio.

Sounds harvested include pieces of limestone being submerged into water, electromagnetic fall out from cell towers, the resonance of a limestone processing factory, VLF radio, the mechanisms of infrastructure, radio controlled airplanes and acoustic signals. These files are mixed and blended together to create a new stratification.

The final compositions were separately pieced together in each of the artist's studios using the collective corpus of recordings. The result is two different sonic interpretations of this layered, ancient and complex landscape.

Tim Shaw works with sound, light, and communication media to create performances, installations, and site-responsive interventions. His practice spans environmental sound art, digital media, media archaeology and walking. He frequently presents his work at festivals, in forests, caves, warehouses, up mountains, and in museums and art galleries all over the world.

Laurent Güdel explores analogue synthesis, phonography, and sound archives through multi-channel electroacoustic compositions, live performances, installations, and audio publications. His work explores the politics of sound, the means of production of early electronic music, and the archaeology of audio technologies, their infrastructures and institutions. He is also co-curator of Kopfhörer, a series dedicated to live experimental music.

Transparent Caracao Vinyl. To All The Ones That I Love wurde im bandeigenen Studio im Westen Melbournes aufgenommen, wobei Gitarrist Greg Rietwyk für Produktion und Mix zuständig war, bevor das Album von Kris Crummett (Closure in Moscow, Dune Rats, Currents) gemastert wurde. Dies ist das vierte Album von Press Club, und die Reife der Band spiegelt sich in den zehn Tracks wider. Dem Hörer wird ein Ritt durch verschiedene Genres geboten, während das Album Themen wie Introspektion, Entwicklung, Veränderung und das Lernen aus vergangenen Fehlern durchläuft. Die Band beschreibt die Entstehung des Albums als eine unglaublich spannende, kreative und befreiende Erfahrung: Die Songs wurden alle gemeinsam in ihrem Studio über mehrere Monate hinweg geschrieben. Diese Art des Schreibens gab der Band die Freiheit, mit verschiedenen Genres zu experimentieren und die Tiefen all ihrer Einflüsse auszuloten.

To All The Ones That I Love wurde im bandeigenen Studio im Westen Melbournes aufgenommen, wobei Gitarrist Greg Rietwyk für Produktion und Mix zuständig war, bevor das Album von Kris Crummett (Closure in Moscow, Dune Rats, Currents) gemastert wurde. Dies ist das vierte Album von Press Club, und die Reife der Band spiegelt sich in den zehn Tracks wider. Dem Hörer wird ein Ritt durch verschiedene Genres geboten, während das Album Themen wie Introspektion, Entwicklung, Veränderung und das Lernen aus vergangenen Fehlern durchläuft. Die Band beschreibt die Entstehung des Albums als eine unglaublich spannende, kreative und befreiende Erfahrung: Die Songs wurden alle gemeinsam in ihrem Studio über mehrere Monate hinweg geschrieben. Diese Art des Schreibens gab der Band die Freiheit, mit verschiedenen Genres zu experimentieren und die Tiefen all ihrer Einflüsse auszuloten.

Thug Life: Volume 1 is the only studio album by hip hop group Thug Life, started by rapper Tupac Shakur, it was released on September 26, 1994 by Interscope Records. The group featured Big Syke, Macadoshis, Mopreme, The Rated R and Tupac Shakur. Among the notable tracks on the album are “Bury Me a G”, “Cradle to the Grave”, “Pour Out a Little Liquor” (which also appears on the soundtrack to the 1994 film Above the Rim), “How Long Will They Mourn Me?” and “Str8 Ballin'”. The album was originally released by Shakur’s label Out Da Gutta Records. Due to heavy criticism on gangsta rap at the time, the original version of the album was scrapped and re-recorded with many of the original songs being cut. The album only contains ten tracks because Interscope Records felt many of the other recorded songs were too controversial to release. It has been said that 2Pac created two other versions of this album, with many of the songs still remaining unreleased. Urban Legends/UMC will reissue Thug Life: Volume 1 in 1LP 180 Gram black vinyl on 22nd November, 2019.

Reissue des Debütalbums "Kontraband" (2019) des mittlerweile mit einem Grammy ausgezeichneten, jamaikanischen Reggae-Künstlers Kabaka Pyramid, der mit seinem unverwechselbaren Musikstil die Kraft, Energie und Melodie des Reggae mit der Lyrik des Hip-Hop verbindet. "Kontraband" wurde von Damian "Jr Gong" Marley produziert, der selbst - neben Akon, Chronixx, Protoje, u.a. - mit einem Feature vertreten ist.

Big new release by Peter Van Hoesen! Continuing his exploration of intricate techno systems, their effect and direct perimeter of action, Peter van Hoesen turns in his newest four-track piece, ‘Prime Directive’: a fascinating dive into the artist’s shape-shifting headspace and inner creative chaos.

Fuelled on a furnace-hot mix of abstract-leaning immersion and hi-octane rhythmic thrust, ‘Prime Directive’ looks at contemporary techno from the angle of experimentation and intuitive abandon. The result comes in the form of four distinct movements, each carving out their own logic and associated behaviour out an endless pool of potentialities. Here comes chaology unfolding in all its unadulterated, visceral glory.

‘Definition by Absence’ breaks the trip in to the sound of a faux-random symphony: its train-like swing and fiery bass seesaw coalesce through an elliptic fluttering of sorts, iterative and not, patterns moving in and out of synchronicity as van Hoesen applies more or less pressure on both ends. All in gusty in-your-face-ness, ‘Variables Edit 1’ whirls and swirls like an ominous vengeance of nature; Its puncturing kicks and whistling menace set against stellar winds and rabid machinery on the prowl for its next victim.

An even more unsettling piece of disjointedly arrhythmic, anti-club music for the dance floor, ‘Prime Directive’ will have you zoning out like a bad dream, flush with metronome-faced monsters and molten clocks hanging from dead trees. ‘Morphology’ could be PVH’s attempt at giving his concepts a carnal carcass to hold onto. Here, rhythm becomes somewhat less erratic, offering his 360-degree vision more melodic surface and actual room for dispersion. One to keep the boundaries pushed and status-quo challenged, this is techno at its most entrancingly bold and fearless.

*This new four-track epic from Peter van Hoesen comes draped in a fine piece of artwork courtesy of Atact, and pressed according to our standards in 180g audiophile quality so you get to experience the Belgian master's chiselled sound design in all its glory.

"Traumazine" ist das zweite Studioalbum von Megan Thee Stallion. Die Leadsingle des Albums, "Sweetie Pie", mit Dua Lipa, erreichte Platz 15 der US Billboard Hot 100 und wurde in den USA und Kanada mit Platin ausgezeichnet. Das mit Gold zertifizierte Album debütierte auf Platz 4 der Billboard 200 Charts und erreichte damit ihre fünfte Top-10-Platzierung. Außerdem erreichte es Platz 3 in den US R&B/Hip-Hop-Charts und Platz 19 in Kanada. Vier weitere Singles wurden aus dem Album ausgekoppelt, darunter "Plan B" (#29 US Hot 100, #7 US Rap / Hip-Hop - Goldstatus), "Pressurelicious" (#55 US Hot 100, #14 US R&B/Hip-Hop), "Her" (#62 US Hot 100, #19 US R&B/Hip-Hop - Goldstatus) und "Ungrateful" (#82 US Hot 100, #29 R&B/Hip-Hop).

Dies ist das erste Mal, dass "Traumazine" auf Vinyl erhältlich sein wird.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

In the spring of 1983, members of Genesis reconvened at their studio, named The Farm in Chiddingfold, Surrey, to start work on a new studio album, their first since Abacab (1981). Genesis became their first album written, recorded, and mixed in its entirety at the studio room; previously they had to write in an adjoining space. Having the group work in their own space without the additional pressure of booking studio time and fees resulted in a more relaxed environment. They were joined by engineer Hugh Padgham, who had also worked on Abacab,

AllMusic writes: "Moments of Genesis are as spooky and arty as those on Abacab — in particular, there's the tortured howl of "Mama," uncannily reminiscent of Phil Collins' Face Value, and the two-part 'Second Home by the Sea' — but this eponymous 1983 album is indeed a rebirth, as so many self-titled albums delivered in the thick of a band's career often are. ... Anybody who paid attention to 'Misunderstanding' and 'No Reply at All' could tell that this was a good pop band, primarily thanks to the rapidly escalating confidence of Phil Collins, but Genesis illustrates just how good they could be, by balancing such sleek, pulsating pop tunes as 'That's All' with a newfound touch for aching ballads, as on 'Taking It All Too Hard.'" AllMusic reviewer Stephen Thomas Erlewine gives the album 4.5 Stars.

For fans who appreciate the evolution of the band's music over the years, owning this album is important as it represents a distinctive phase in their career.

This is the definitive deluxe 45 RPM 2LP Analogue Productions (Atlantic 75 Series) reissue of the classic Genesis. A classic for all true Genesis fans!

Tappa Zukie is not only one of Jamaica’s greatest DJ’s, is also a much respected producer and arranger. Looking back through his master tapes we have found a lost release that due to being a worldwide recording artist and the pressures that this carries, it has stayed on his musical shelf and been passed over... until now.

When rhythm was King way back in the 1970’s, the predominant feature of the final mix down would in most cases be the drums and bass. Bringing drums and bass to the fore, the other instruments that create the tunes mood would take a back seat in the mix. With such fine musicians in the horn sections as Vin Gordon, Deadly ‘Headley’ Bennett and the unstoppable Tommy McCook, it sometimes felt, their services if nothing else were slightly underused.

So one way of rectifying this situation was one that Tappa himself instigated, putting a release together by picking some of his favourite productions that carried classic horn lines alongside those tightly recorded rhythms. Pushing those horn lines up in the mix and so making a feature of some of those touches that although added some colour to the original cut, laid back in the mix to the more Sound System friendly drum and bass cut.

When looking at the music with this approach, some of the other influences that were also in Tappa’s mind can be noticed more. Maybe it’s a Jazzier / Bluesy feel shining through. A strange thing happens that almost takes the song down the avenue of a soundtrack album. An unreleased film score to accompany an unreleased film.

So sit back and enjoy a lost release that time and place did not find time to see the light of day. As the opening track testifies and in the immortal words of Mr Tappa Zukie himself.. “Your Musical Daddy is back... Horns Up !!!!”

As a founding member of Dublin experimental folk group Lankum, Ian Lynch explores submerged leylines of music and song. Forging a musical path that is all at once dark, mysterious and foreboding, but ultimately transcendental. His new solo project One Leg One Eye sees him taking a fresh approach to musical arrangement culminating in a sound that is more rooted in the raw aesthetics of second wave black metal than contemporary folk. The project was born across 2021, a period in which Lynch was able to enjoy the freedom of experimenting and exploring different paths of sound design without expectation or pressure. Seeking out interesting settings to record music and gather field recordings, there are several environments, external and interior, whose respective essence have seeped into the spirit of the music and come to represent Lynch’s artistic approach and development with this singular debut album, …And Take The Black Worm With Me. Rediscovered spaces in Dublin and the familiar enclave of his bedroom are intrinsic to the distinct and sometimes harrowing atmosphere conjured throughout the album’s five enveloping compositions. One particular location, an abandoned factory where his father worked when Ian was a child, provided a space of great inspiration and intrigue during this time. Lynch frequently visited the large abandoned warehouse and sang with his shruti box, contented in his solitude. ‘I’d Rather Be Tending My Sheep’, grew into existence from those initial sessions, eventually finding a home as an emotive centrepiece to the album. Reflecting on the overall recording of …And Take The Black Worm With Me, Lynch says, “Everything I was doing with these songs was all kind of new to me; experimenting with different sounds, textures and palettes and seeing what I could come up with by piecing it all together. I spent about a year making the album. I loved the whole process because it was basically just me in my bedroom recording everything. The experience of recording like this and having my own time to do it was amazing. I could focus on recording a specific element and happily spend all day working on that one part, doing it as many times as I wanted. At the end of the day if it didn’t feel right, I could just try it again the next day. When you’re on your own you can spend as much time as you want on particular parts until you feel that it’s absolutely perfect. I found that to be a really liberating experience. It was probably my favourite experience recording music.” The collection of songs (and their chronology) featured on …And Take The Black Worm With Me tell a story unique to Lynch’s experiences with anxiety and recognising his shadow self. Whilst the album became an outlet of personal expression for Lynch, the overarching themes and subsequent journey to confront one’s internal dichotomy of light and dark before accepting this inherent duality is universally shared. The eerie and often unsettling world contained within the album’s texturally dense opener ‘Glistening, She Emerges’, driven by the captivating drone of distorted uilleann pipes, immediately immerses the listener in this transportive work. It descends with a great heaviness, yet woven throughout the arrangement is a fascinating and indescribable entity that draws you further into this otherworldly dimension. This mood continues as the tracklist progresses and transitions into Lynch’s haunting realisation of ‘Bold and Undaunted Youth’ which further demonstrates a cinematic influence to Lynch’s compositional style. Sonically, Lynch effectively builds an impressively vast terrain with brilliantly murky lo-fi recording techniques and an unshakable curiosity to move beyond conventional structures and play with the timbre of the instruments available to him. From recording hurdy-gurdy or concertina to tape and experimenting with loops and effects pedals to stitching field recordings together, there’s an intimacy established between Lynch and his audience established through the simultaneously eerie and beautiful tones courting through …And Take The Black Worm With Me. This culminates in ‘Only the Diceys’, the extraordinary closing track in which we reach a place of resolution mapped into the album’s narrative structure. Mixed by longtime collaborator John ‘Spud’ Murphy in his Dublin-based Guerrilla Sounds Studio and mastered by Harvey Birrell …And Take The Black Worm With Me features contributions from Ruth Clinton (Landless) on church organ and vocals by Laurie Shanaman (Ails, Ludicra). Of Shanaman’s participation, in particular, which further illustrates the lo-fi and DIY ethos to the recording, Lynch says, “Laurie is my favourite black metal vocalist of all time and so I reached out to her hoping to have her involved in some way. She did, and she features on the opening track by providing some incredible screams. She recorded them into her phone and sent them over to me; what appears on the album is literally a phone recording of her screaming in her kitchen!” …And Take The Black Worm With Me continues Ian Lynch’s groundbreaking work with Lankum; recontextualising traditional forms and generating new spheres of music in his wake, confirming his status as one of the most interesting and innovative artists working in Ireland today.

Six years removed from their last release, Seattle’s Great Grandpa return with Patience, Moonbeam - an ambitious and deeply moving new album that almost didn’t happen. A decade of making music together was put on pause while each of the band’s were called indifferent directions. But as with any good relationship built on mutual love, trust, and a mountain of shared history, the quintet reunited, scrapped most ideas of songs they had put together, and started fresh to work on what would become their best album to date, due out in March on Run For Cover Records. Whereas 2019’s Four of Arrows mostly came together in the pressure cooker atmosphere of the studio with the help of an outside producer, Patience, Moonbeam emerged slowly through a generous demoing process. With fewer constraints and more control, the band had the opportunity to experiment and take their time, leading to a collection that feels and sounds more fully, confidently, themselves. Built on an “open door policy” for writing and recording, Patience, Moonbeam is the result of how seamlessly all five members contributed to the creation of the album. The result is a record that swings like a pendulum from heavy to tender, playful to weighty, painting a sonic illustration of the pains and pleasures of being alive across eleven songs. What could suffer from a kitchen-sink approach instead comes together brilliantly, a testament to the band’s musical and spiritual connection. With Patience, Moonbeam, Great Grandpa has crafted a triumphant document of what happens when your collaborators become your chosen family.

Six years removed from their last release, Seattle’s Great Grandpa return with Patience, Moonbeam - an ambitious and deeply moving new album that almost didn’t happen. A decade of making music together was put on pause while each of the band’s were called indifferent directions. But as with any good relationship built on mutual love, trust, and a mountain of shared history, the quintet reunited, scrapped most ideas of songs they had put together, and started fresh to work on what would become their best album to date, due out in March on Run For Cover Records. Whereas 2019’s Four of Arrows mostly came together in the pressure cooker atmosphere of the studio with the help of an outside producer, Patience, Moonbeam emerged slowly through a generous demoing process. With fewer constraints and more control, the band had the opportunity to experiment and take their time, leading to a collection that feels and sounds more fully, confidently, themselves. Built on an “open door policy” for writing and recording, Patience, Moonbeam is the result of how seamlessly all five members contributed to the creation of the album. The result is a record that swings like a pendulum from heavy to tender, playful to weighty, painting a sonic illustration of the pains and pleasures of being alive across eleven songs. What could suffer from a kitchen-sink approach instead comes together brilliantly, a testament to the band’s musical and spiritual connection. With Patience, Moonbeam, Great Grandpa has crafted a triumphant document of what happens when your collaborators become your chosen family.

Wewantsounds is delighted to announce the reissue of Sho-Nuff's highly sought-after album "Body Pressure" from 1983. Recorded for Japanese label King Records, the album was only ever released in Japan and disappeared without trace making it one of the most coveted Modern Soul/Boogie albums on the international collectors scene. Mixing funk and Boogie with a few juicy ballads for good measure, Body Pressure is a superb album that lives up to its reputation, hence the hefty price tag of up to 1000€ for an original. The audio was remastered in Tokyo by King from the master tapes and the album is reissued here with its original artwork and OBI for the first time since 1983 with new liner notes by Charles Waring.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

This album is produced by Neil Perch in the Alte Ziegelei studio and features the world reknowned Zion Train brass section along with vocals from Zion Train singer `Cara' and the award winning poet Roger Robinson. Featured on several tracks is Paolo Baldini playing guitars and bass guitar alongside veteran musicians - Trinny Fingers, Blacka Wilson, Dreada One and Professor Skank who hails from Crete. For this album Zion Train return to their roots with copious amounts of analogue Dub mixing performed by Perch on his TAC Scorpion vintage mixing desk. With mastering at the Pressure Mastering, and artwork by the highly acclaimed anarchist artist Marko Gin from Croatia, this album presents Zion Train at their creative, anarchic best. Zion train are one of the most unique and enjoyable live dub acts on the planet, their use of dynamic onstage dub mixing whilst performing alongside acoustic instruments and exceptional vocalists, make Zion Train one of a kind.

Cross Record's new album, Crush Me, is steeped in the pressures and wonders of existence—a profound statement, especially coming from artist and death doula Emily Cross. A two-and-a-half-year gestation period offered challenges, disappointments, and joys reflected in the cramped space of the album, which explores how we handle the weights we carry. Emily Cross had held hundreds of Living Funerals and was as many episodes deep into her podcast, What I’m Looking At. She was five years into serving clients as a death doula and fresh off a tour with Loma, her band with Jonathan Meiburg (Shearwater) and Dan Duszynski, when she began work on her fourth album. After moving from Austin, TX to Dorset, UK, she established the Steady Waves Center for Contemplation (named after a track from her second record, Wabi-Sabi ), where she hosted Living Funerals, met clients, scheduled mindful tea sessions, and showcased experimental music nights. All the while, she was scribbling down song ideas. Cross’s Tascam four-track demos finally reached readiness, and she sent them to an interested major independent label. She was encouraged to push her imagination to the limits of what a record could be. So, unlike her usual process of recording as inexpensively as possible, she prepared a two-week recording session in Germany with a group of skilled musicians from around the world. True to her previous work, Cross left plenty of room in her demos for experimentation, collaboration, chance, improvisation, and complete obliteration, then resurrection when necessary. Comfort and traditional structure were eschewed in favor of unaccountable magic, prayers whispered into The Void. Cross is comfortable with the chaotic and unpredictable, a perspective demanded by her work and writing style. The Berlin Airbnb was packed with people, instruments and luggage. During a ride down in a tiny elevator to the studio, Cross realized how central the sense of being crushed was to the album. “I thought of it later and it dawned on me that ‘Crush Me’ perfectly embodied the record,” says Cross. Yes, the weight of a body laying limply atop yours, or the tight squeeze of a hug, can be pleasant. Go too far, and you’re in the hands of a cruel, adolescent god. Upon leaving Germany, the record was unfinished, and without a roadmap. As passages were recorded as isolated parts, Cross and musician Marcin Sulewski collaborated, facing a haphazard brick pile, waiting to be assembled. Work dipped in and out of view like a buoy bobbing in a violent sea over many months. During that time, the aforementioned interested label went radio silent, suddenly not seeming so sure of a thing. Collaborators disappeared, continuing the themes of abandonment, surrender, and disarray that followed the project. Cross physically felt her entire body go numb: In a twist of fate, the record was rescued by long-time friend and supporter Ben Goldberg at Ba Da Bing Records who was eager to help realize the project. Cross worked for months on the album, all the while nursing a pregnancy and continuing her full-time funeral work. The last minute participation of Seth Manchester of Machines with Magnets, who mixed and mastered, was an essential liferaft. He gave true final form to the abstracted songs. Crush Me has the effect of a spell being cast, with songs balancing heaviness and levity. Vocals, guitars, and keyboards float above, as drums and upright bass (often bowed) lurch beneath. On “Rolling Backwards” percussion wanders about while feedback squeals and persists in the distance. “Dorset Area Of Natural Beauty” starts with a thick, unhinged church organ progression punctuated by the disquieting sounds of laughter reaching the point of hysteria. “God Fax” is a slow-moving panic attack, with shallow breaths in and out framing a guttural cacophony like a wooden freighter encountering increasingly turbulent waters and vocals struck emotionless by autotune. The album ends with “Twisted Up Fence,” a reflection on life from outside the wall--wistful, warm, and comforting. Cross, likely with a smile on her face, sings: “You say it’s an endless abyss” “And I say the abyss is the best”

Low Order returns with his sixth EP in five years, building on his reputation for relentless industrial body musick. Opening with immersive noise textures, the record takes shape with the stern syncopated bass drum pressure of “See The Land”, echoing Portion Reform’s classic The Supreme Negative. Disciplined cuts such as “Angel Cycle”, “Stand Still” or the remorseless title track further demonstrate the unstoppable forward momentum with which he’s been tearing up clubs across Europe. The final “Eyes On You” cloaks the listener with dream-pale atmospheres of drones, feedback and mutated vocals that almost feels like the embodiment of a gritty realization, of a burdened history that inescapably lingers within. It rounds off an EP that is clearly rooted in the rich history of extreme styles but never takes its eyes off the dancefloor. Recommended for everyone who’s into all the hard, uncompromising stuff!