Suche:process

Salix is a bold new departure for modular synthesist Loula Yorke, seen here using an antique reed organ to explore the ancient roots of willow trees in magic, myth and medicine, as well as inviting another musician into her recording studio for the first time, clarinettist Charlotte Jolly.

The EP forms a sonic archive of a singular instrument: an antique free reed organ left behind by a previous encumbent of Asylum Studios, (the artists' co-operative in Suffolk where Yorke's Truxalis labelmate and life collaborator, Seiche, has a studio space). The organ is in poor condition and fascinatingly, painfully detuned. Yorke's recordings bring out its host of unusual quirks exacerbated by age and neglect: the powerful rhythmic creaking of the wooden treadles; the bone-shaking resonance emanating from its body at specific pitches; unexpected exclamations of harmonic collision from within the carcass redolent of a human voice; the piercing, shrieking whistles of broken reeds, and the powerful timbres unlocked via Yorke's experiments with various combinations of stops.

The three tracks that form Salix are inspired by a local weeping willow tree, a constant companion photographed over the course of a year. Boughs caught in a gyre. A maiden in mourning. Branches that gesture in the wrong direction. A tree turned upside down. A hand-woven willow basket, an old technology to gather and store. The journey of a lovelorn bard through the underworld, a bundle of willow under one arm for protection.

For the opening track, The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction, Yorke recorded herself playing a simple unaccompanied improvisation on the organ, the only ornamentation being the processed sounds of the keys being struck and returning to their positions.

For Bundle of Styx, a spell of protection is cast and then broken. Yorke invited virtuoso clarinettist Charlotte Jolly into the studio to test combining the breathy textures of both brass and natural reeds, the instruments uniting and obsuring each other in turn during this one-take improvisation. The organ's unpredictable sharpened tunings take centre stage here, with Jolly using them as a point of departure to conjure a set of peerless harmonic improvisations live in the moment. Throughout the improvisation, Yorke, a self-taught musician, unpracticed on the organ, supports and challenges, freely admitting that she's not always sure what effect her decisions to move up and down the keyboard or pull out certain stops will have. Jolly's genius lies in her ability to meet and build on every uncertain pitch thrown her way, saying of the experience, "I love that Loula isn't classically trained, I can't predict at all what she's about to do."

For the final track, With the Red Dawn, Yorke has come up with another unique combination of textures, this time bringing her own specialism in modular synthesis to the fore. A ten-minute reed organ drone characterised with ever-shifting bass swells and overtones is layered with tuned sines, often shudderingly wave-folded, that ebb and flow both in intensity and harmonic colour according to the duty cycles of eight interrelated LFOs. These recordings are collaged with Yorke's singing voice and a langorous, ascending sequence across two octaves on Jolly's clarinet, all arranged to form a cohesive whole far greater than the sum of its parts. Smatterings of untuned percussion and a fragment of a conversation between the duo left in the final mix cements Yorke's unprecious DIY aesthetic into the release.

At its heart, Salix is like watching the wind in the willows; hundreds of thousands of identical tiny leaves moving in confluence on its branches; at once one thing and many things; moment-to-moment our perception makes out different individuals parts within this expanse of texture, before sinking back into the whole.

What's the point of the howl of string to speaker, the hammering of stick-on skin? Is it transcendence, elevating the human spirit by catharsis in sound? Or is it summoning chaos, a purgatory in which to bask in all that’s unclean, the better to feel alive?
Why not both? Because that’s what’s on offer on Diet Of Worms, the second Rocket release by The Shits, Leeds via Newcastle’s titans of disgust and deliverance. This is a feast for the senses in the worst way possible - primal rock boiled down to its essence and flung full in your face. Using repetition, tortured vocal invective and heads-down intensity as blunt instruments, these eight tracks are an unprecedented torrent of acidic salvation. Whilst lurking somewhere on the decadence-destruction axis between the nihilism of prime Stooges and the bloody blackout of Braimbombs, Diet Of Worms is possessed of a legitimately uncompromising hostility that both elevates and debases it to co-ordinates unknown.
There are revelations here in the riffage and the rancour, even if they are the kind that occur in the bleary miasma of the lock-in, or witnessing the streetlight blur of the subsequent stagger home. Even more single-minded and remorseless than the band’s Rocket debut ‘You’re A Mess’, this is a record that demands full immersion. Whether it’s ‘Then You’re Dead’ hammering on a pulverising garage-stinking riff until it begs for mercy, or ‘Change My Ways’, whose Creedence-In-Hell swagger and lurch is that of abjection transmuted into joy, this is psychedelia forcibly removed from its comfort zone of pastiche, and thrust into a bad-trip realm of the vivid and nightmarish.
But rarely has the process of making beauty and horror indivisible seemed like so much fun. If Werner Herzog was right, and the only harmony in the universe is that of overwhelming and collective murder, then The Shits are the true music of the spheres.

The Portland, ME trio returns with Feels Like Hell, their most self-assured and emotionally charged record yet. Despite the title, the album is a celebration of personal growth, creative freedom, and defiant joy in the face of a chaotic world.

Coming off the burnout and frustration captured in their 2021 album Quitter, Feels Like Hell finds Sonia Sturino (vocals/guitar), Annie Hoffman (bass/vocals), and Adam Hand (drums) leaning into clarity, gratitude, and renewed purpose. Sturino’s lyrics are as raw and honest as ever, but now they reflect strength rather than despair. It’s an album that drags existential dread into the daylight and sets it on fire.

“I decided to stop being such a sad-sap negative person,” Sturino says. “Now I practice being grateful, being proud, being happy, and not being envious.” That mindset shift shapes the tone of Feels Like Hell, which looks at darkness but chooses not to be consumed by it.

The record also marks the band’s first foray into co-writing, with Hoffman playing a significant role in shaping its sound. Embracing a more intuitive recording process, the trio stripped back the excess and focused on what felt right. The result is a record that’s resilient, cathartic, and brimming with creative energy.

While the world may still feel like it’s falling apart, Feels Like Hell pulses with the power of letting go. Letting go of fear, of perfectionism, of the illusion that vulnerability is weakness. With driving guitars, unflinching lyrics, and a renewed sense of purpose, Weakened Friends prove that it’s possible to stand in the wreckage and still find something worth singing about.

On his sixth LP In Another, Toronto-based, Japanese-born, musician and composer Masahiro Takahashi (髙橋 政宏) continues the collaborative expansion of his sonic universe that listeners witness on his 2023 release, Humid Sun. Here he enlists a rotating ensemble of ten guest artists from Toronto’s vibrant music community, including his labelmate Joseph Shabason, who also serves as the album’s co-producer and engineer.

Spurred by his longtime admiration for chamber pop spanning the High Llamas and Free Design to the Beach Boys, Takahashi deviates from the underlying processes of his past two outings, trading Ableton sequences for lead sheets, focusing on creating robust melodic and harmonic foundations first. This difference is audible straight away; the album opens with a dialog between upright piano and plucked double bass that’s so gentle and transparent you can hear the breath of the players.

On his sixth LP In Another, Toronto-based, Japanese-born, musician and composer Masahiro Takahashi (髙橋 政宏) continues the collaborative expansion of his sonic universe that listeners witness on his 2023 release, Humid Sun. Here he enlists a rotating ensemble of ten guest artists from Toronto’s vibrant music community, including his labelmate Joseph Shabason, who also serves as the album’s co-producer and engineer.

Spurred by his longtime admiration for chamber pop spanning the High Llamas and Free Design to the Beach Boys, Takahashi deviates from the underlying processes of his past two outings, trading Ableton sequences for lead sheets, focusing on creating robust melodic and harmonic foundations first. This difference is audible straight away; the album opens with a dialog between upright piano and plucked double bass that’s so gentle and transparent you can hear the breath of the players.

DJ Support: Luke Una, Leftfield, Ewan McVicar, Optimo, Damian Lazarus, Jimpster, Hifi Sean, Lovefingers, Heidi Lawden, Justin Robertson, Damian Harris, Sean Johnston (ALFOS)

Electronic music icon Jon Dasilva continues to push forward into the future with “Sun Brings Joy”, alongside Swedish production compadre Skyskrapa and vocalist extraordinaire Donald Waugh.

Coming in a few different flavours, the Bass ID mix has already piqued interest on the socials... is it house? Is it techno? Is it bass music? Who knows, but Luke Una has already called it “the tune of the year”…
The package is completed with a remix from in demand genre bending dj/producer Spatial Awareness.

A mercurial producer, he has had a string of cutting-edge productions to his name spanning over two decades, on labels including Ellum Audio, Rush Hour, Soma, Mute, Deconstruction, Better Days, Eskimo, and many more. His early productions were considered seminal works, combining breaks, African influences, Acid and Bleep culture.

He is in the process of finishing a number of electronic projects for labels such as Balkan Vinyl, Mighty Force, I Love Acid and Hottwerk.

The next chapter in Axis Expressionist Series. A collection of vinyl and limited digital releases, curated by Millsart, an alias of Jeff Mills, of his most eclectic and transcendent compositions that derive from his Every Dog Has Its Day project as well as new unreleased works.



Vernacular creations that fall off from the "other side" of the Electronic Music tree, this project is designed for the experienced Techno music listeners, and its goal is to reflect upon the pure artistry of the craft of storytelling. A realization between music and life. Whereas "dancing" is the goal of Dance Music, the goal of this music is about "reflecting on the complexity and simplification of life". Soundtracks for people in their evolutionary process.

Y-TRAXX'S "MYSTERY LAND" RETURNS ON VINYL WITH NEW REMIX BY ROY ROSENFELD:

The legendary trance anthem Mystery Land by Y-Traxx returns to the spotlight. First released in 1995, the track achieved iconic status after featuring prominently in the 2000 box-office No. 1 movie Kevin & Perry Go Large. The original track is now being reissued on vinyl. The release includes the Original Mix, the classic Sickboy Courtyard Mix, the Søluna Remix - winner of the Beatport Remix Contest - and a brand-new remix from Roy Rosenfeld. Available from 3 April via Serious Beats Classics.

With its hypnotic melodies, driving beats, and mysterious atmosphere, "Mystery Land" became a symbol of the 90s trance scene and grew into a cult classic. The track was picked up worldwide by influential DJs, including Paul Oakenfold, and featured prominently on his mix album Perfecto Fluoro (1996).

The new remix by Roy Rosenfeld brings a fresh, modern take to the iconic track, preserving the emotion of the original while adding a powerful peak-time, sunrise energy. Rosenfeld comments: "Remixing Mystery Land was an honor for me. I've loved this track for many years, so the process was very natural and fun. The vision came quickly, keeping the emotion of the original and pushing it into a peak-time, sunrise energy."

ABOUT ROY ROSENFELD:

Roy Rosenfeld is a leading DJ and producer in the house music scene, known for his warm, melodic, and instantly recognizable sound. Since 2009, he has built an impressive international career with releases on labels such as All Day I Dream, Lost & Found, and Rumors, and with iconic tracks like Epika and Kala. His music receives worldwide support from top artists including Solomun, Black Coffee, and Keinemusik. Alongside his studio work, Roy is a highly sought-after performer at clubs and festivals around the globe and the driving force behind the successful No Drama event concept in Tel Aviv.

This release combines nostalgia with contemporary trance production, offering both longtime fans and a new generation the chance to experience this timeless classic in a refreshed form.

WRWTFWW Records is very happy to announce the release of Interwoven, the deeply moving collaborative album from Ken-ichiro Isoda and aus (Yasuhiko Fukuzono) — now available on limited edition transparent sea green colored vinyl LP housed in a heavyweight sleeve with selective-varnish 3D print, as well as in digipack CD and digital formats.
Recorded between Hachijo Island and Tokyo, Interwoven distills two visionary voices of Japanese ambient and electronic music into a single breath of feather-light and quietly luminous meditative sound.

Isoda is a revered figure of New-age and environmental music whose work on Oscilation Circuit – Série Réflexion 1 (originally released on famed label Sound Process) has long attained mythic status. He composes, notably with harp and wind instruments, produces contemporary music and video game scores, and crafts his very own brand of ambient music from the volcanic island of Hachijo-jima. Tokyo-based electronic composer and synth master aus is known for tender, melody-driven soundscapes. From the two artists comes a dialogue suspended between land and sea, bridging the generation gap and the physical distance between them.

What began as a series of sketches — impressions of water, islands, and shifting light — gradually evolved into an exchange without explanation, a correspondence of sound that dissolved boundaries. In that anonymity, both artists discovered an uncommon freedom: a place where each could move lightly and intuitively, without expectation. The music drifts with a gentle, intuitive grace: lingering piano, soft cinematic synths, and field recordings that unfold like whispered recollections, while flute and saxophone lines pass through like occasional breezes — a human presence felt as warmth more than form.

Interwoven is music for those who cherish stillness and the delicate beauty of the everyday. It’s music for admirers of Satoshi Ashikawa, Midori Takada, Satsuki Shibano, Hiroshi Yoshimura, Takashi Kokubo, Brian Eno, and all who seek a quiet refuge in sound.

Four-time GRAMMY Award-nominated global superstar RAYE, is releasing her highly anticipated sophomore album THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE. The album, set in 4 “seasons” with each side of the vinyl being a different season, takes listeners on a sonic journey that begins with darkness and ends with light.

“Music is medicine. I’ve always said that, and I guess I’m in the process of making medicine for myself that I can share with the world. I want us all to say to ourselves that it’s going to be all right, and I’m going to have faith in the seeds that I’ve planted beneath the snow. I wanted to create something that is a hug or bed or soft place for that person who needs it.”

RAYE recently kicked off her massive 51-date sold-out arena tour THIS TOUR MAY CONTAIN NEW MUSIC includes arena dates across Europe and the UK — including six sold-out nights at The O2 — before heading to North America with stops at iconic venues such as Radio City Music Hall (April 15 and 16th) and the Greek Theatre (May 12 and 13th). Additionally, RAYE will be a special guest on Bruno Mars’ The Romantic Tour for 27 stadium shows across the US this summer.

Specs: Wrapped in shrink, DL code, insert with liner notes

"Music in DNA" is an album recorded in the early 1980s in New York City by Yasuhito Ohno, a young Japanese man breaking free from the constraints of his homeland. The album is a naive burst of outsider DIY enthusiasm, inspired by the multiple avant-garde movements of the era, in music, painting and performance, as well as the native energy of 80s NYC. Ohno channeled his youthful “edge” and zeal into open-minded lo-fi musical explorations using a mere two machines: the then-new technological glories of a four-track cassette recorder and that polyphonic synthesizer masterpiece, the Roland Juno-60; on several pieces he vocalizes. These seven tracks have a zestful, innocent, anything-goes charm, free from preciousness and self-consciousness: a raw and youthful human spirit at play in a new world. Ohno was also inspired by the humanistic promise of the general technological developments of the day, including DNA research, personal computing, and early computer graphics, an example of which can be found on the cover. Ohno later returned to Japan, becoming a renowned composer/producer. In an era of jaded cynicism, "Music in DNA" is a welcome taste of big-hearted innocence, a revival of a raw self. Available on CD/LP/Digital, with E/J liner notes.

“Al destino”, the new album by Steve Pepe, began to take shape in 2023 after roughly a year of highly abstract sound research. The original intention was to create a dancefloor-oriented record, moving away from down-tempo structures, built around minimal, percussive compositions and high BPMs, with sound conceived primarily as a functional element.
In 2024, however, the process shifted. Less time was spent producing and more time reflecting. Emotions hovered between the urgencies of the present and unresolved past traumas, and almost without conscious intention, singing returned to the center of the project. It was not a calculated choice, but an inevitable one.
The resulting album does not draw its energy from distant places, nor does it focus on sonic experimentation as an end in itself. Instead, Al destino offers an intimate perspective on how memories and emotions shape the inner self, on the sensation of being simultaneously alone and deeply connected to everything, and on the struggle to reconcile feelings, sensations, love, and desire.

Bristol duo Pume Orenge unspool a world of spectral electronica from cassette loops and instrumental improvisation on their debut album Angel By Milo for Odda Recordings.

It is a world that opens draped in ferric hiss. A fog of sound, dense and yet not quite there, catching the light in strange shades and ambient drifts. Looping and receding, looping and receding, as pucks of static burst like faraway fireworks on a cold winter’s night. Sound sources obscured, ambiguous, not quite what they seem.

Angel By Milo takes its lead from the analogue process and textures by which it was made. Percussive and melodic loops were established, manipulated and responded to with instrumental improvisation, in a give-and-take with the materiality of the medium.

Across these seven intricately developed tracks, the sound fluctuates between the cinematic and the introspective, at times melancholy, at others verging on a kind of restrained anger, before the calm sets in once more. It is music for the small hours, awash with the grainy stuff of memory.

Embedded within Bristol’s independent scene, Pume Orenge’s quiet debut also speaks to the duo’s shared roots in the area, and like many of Odda’s previous releases, contains a sensitivity to place and atmosphere, even when these are no more than implied.

Angel By Milo builds on the DIY ethos of Pume Orenge's 2023 self-titled debut EP, whose tracks were recorded live in single takes, now honing a more intentional, purposeful approach to music making. It is one in which layers of meaning are allowed to reveal themselves, a way of composing that makes a virtue of its labour and the chance occurrences that can arise in the process.

This is music in praise of shadows. Of the things we can’t quite see, the feelings we can’t quite grasp. Heard through the haze, or maybe not at all.

As collaborative projects often do, 33 has in time found a more fixed form, a kind of structure that turned it from a loose collection of collaborators gravitating around founders Bill John Bultheel and Alexander Iezzi into something resembling more of a traditional band. Not that there is anything conventional in their creative process tho, nor in the music itself… Nontheless Tripolar - their second album and first for Haunter - seems to take them closer to song territory than ever before.

The (progressive) graduation of multi-instrumentalist Cem Dukkha and vocalist/clarinet player Ivan Cheng from collaborators to full-time members has brought 33 to a more refined awareness of their possibilities as a creative unit, although their compositional process has retained a high level of spontaneity and musical madness. Tripolar was in fact assembled by editing hours of improvisation that Bultheel, Iezzi and Dukkah recorded with no specific endgame in mind. The sessions saw them exchange a variety of acoustic, electronic and electric musical instruments: percussions, guitars, strings, piano, hurdy gurdy, synthesizers and even CDJs as a tool of live sampling manipulation.

By molding the pieces into what they are now, the band managed to concoct some beautiful vignettes of contradictory mental and emotional states, as sonically playful as a renaissance fair happening within a broken timestream. Cheng’s lyrical and vocal contributions helped them coalesce even further into proper songs, adding a melodic presence that’s at once seductive and uncanny. But vocal duties are often ceded to guests, namely Danish pop-neoclassicist Astrid Sonne, Kenyan metal guru Lord Spikeheart, Irish goth raconteur Olan Monk and Japanese body-poet Golin.The amount of different sounds arranged into each of the tracks produces a unique sense of awe and bewilderment, a testament to the incredible talent and craft the musicians have employed into putting together such a broad range of influences and approaches into a coherent and extremely effective musical journey.

An equally erratic thematic thread seems to run through all the tracks, one ultimately preoccupied with mental health and its ramifications. Without turning the project into a concept album, 33 and their collaborators have sprinkled it with references to personality disorders and mental conditions that are all too relevant to the contemporary age, reflecting on the lineage of human inner life. A wide display of lyrical and musical tools is employed to explore these themes, ranging from Sonne’s expressionist depiction of ADHD in the opener, to Cheng’s queer-themed reinvention of an Irish murder ballad in closing track ‘Babymusicc’. Tracing lateral trajectories for introspection, Tripolar is not only highly captivating, but it ultimately sounds esoteric in the best possible way: progressively revealing layer after layer of incredible aural magic, its true meaning living in the form and in its manic scope of energies.

Thomas Peter debuts on Hallow Ground with »changing bodies,« an album inspired by the resonance and reaction of objects with and to sound. The Swiss composer and sound artist has worked with sounds generated with various materials, field recordings, and an array of analogue and digital synthesizers to create five ever-shifting pieces full of twists and turns in which even silence plays a significant role. Peter composed and recorded the album over the course of four years in an inherently physical process, led by both his intuition and his perception—what you hear on »changing bodies« is an artist intently listening to the material world around him.

Peter laid the foundation for »changing bodies« by making field recordings wherever he went, whether in closed rooms, cities, or rural environments, while also recording organic-sounding material with different synthesizers as well as working with objects made of wood, stone, or metal. »I viewed all these sounds as a kind of language that I was trying to understand,« he says. »I paid close attention to differences between sounds in motion, rhythmic patterns, and dense textures.« He further describes this as an inherently corporeal endeavour, quite literally becoming all ears and internalising the different sounds.

This process of concretion led to one of abstraction when Peter translated the source material and its psycho-physical reverberations into new musical structures. He applied repetition, densification, and recombination to unlock their true potential. Across its five tracks, the album sets literally unheard-of sounds into motion, creating intricate dynamics without ever overwhelming its listeners. »changing bodies« was born out of listening intently and physically.
It is recommended to listen to it in the exact same way.

Drawing from traditions of musique concrète and ambient synthesis, The Vertical Luminous creates a world of textural depth and microscopic wonder. Across its tracks, bubbling tones, processed field recordings, and shifting electronic layers intertwine, evoking the sensation of listening in on the hidden rhythms of atoms, molecules, and micro-organisms.
'While grounded in experimental technique, The Vertical Luminous avoids the academic or austere, instead embracing a mischievous sense of melody and curiosity - a reminder that exploration and joy can coexist in sound.
'The result is a record that is both meditative and playful, equally suited to deep listening or casual drift.'

When you notice the cheerful mystery playing with the synths, the edges of this small world start to look slightly distorted. In any era, someone is always creating mysterious music on their own. (7FO)

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Music in DNA is an album recorded in the early 1980s in New York City by Yasuhito Ohno, a young Japanese man breaking free from the constraints of his homeland. The album is a naive burst of outsider DIY enthusiasm, inspired by the multiple avant-garde movements of the era, in music, painting and performance, as well as the native energy of 80s NYC. Ohno channeled his youthful "edge" and zeal into open-minded lo-fi musical explorations using a mere two machines: the then-new technological glories of a four-track cassette recorder and that polyphonic synthesizer masterpiece, the Roland Juno-60; on several pieces he vocalizes. These seven tracks have a zestful, innocent, anything-goes charm, free from preciousness and self-consciousness: a raw and youthful human spirit at play in a new world. Ohno was also inspired by the humanistic promise of the general technological developments of the day, including DNA research, personal computing, and early computer graphics, an example of which can be found on the cover. Ohno later returned to Japan, becoming a renowned composer/producer. In an era of jaded cynicism, Music in DNA is a welcome taste of big-hearted innocence, a revival of a raw self. Available on CD/LP/Digital, with E/J liner notes.

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen