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Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by."

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

Following their eponymous debut album and the vertiginous Everest, Rue des Garderies continue their semi-narcotic explorations with Jiddu.


Around a stretched, distorted sample, a 16-minute improvisation recorded on a summer's night, interacting with their immediate environment: truncated discussions, laughter, noises of joy, silences, love...


The whole piece seems to exist in an unknown zone of our psyche - unknown until then, but which was obvious at the time: an automatic writing done in total freedom, reminiscent of trip-hop and abstract electronic from the 90s.
Was it a dream?


On the b-side; a drawing by French artist Rebecca Bournigault is etched.

From the crypts of Parisian funk obscurity comes the long-lost Halloween holy grail, Disco Frankenstein from Ice AKA Lafayette Afro Rock Band. A teasing album of horror-disco oddities originally released as a compilation—a misnomer cloaked in mystery, as the tracks themselves hail from the group’s playful experiments in the mid-to-late ’70s.
This album unearths a twisted treasure trove of grooves, originally scattered across obscure side-projects and international pressings, brought back to life by Strut on blood-soaked vinyl exclusively for Halloween 2025.
Originally released as a 1976 Japan-only compilation featuring the Lafayette Afro Rock Band under a plethora of pseudonyms—Sweet Exorcist, Captain Dax, Hot Blood, Krispie and Co., and more, the release was masterminded by producer Pierre Jaubert and led by bandleader Frank Abel with the funk-virtuosity of the Lafayette Afro-Rock Band group, the minds behind the much sampled ‘Soul Makossa’ and ‘Malik’ albums.
Disco Frankenstein represents the band at their most creative—layering wah-wah guitars, thunderous Afrobeat rhythms, and creepy-crawly synths into a funky stew of horror-disco gold. Tracks like “Dr. Beezar (Soul Frankenstein),” “Disco Vampire,” “Zeke the Zombie,” and “Igor’s Reggae” blur the line between Halloween novelty and dancefloor fire, conjured with full seriousness by studio wizards who knew how to raise the funk.
Resurrected by Strut Records and remastered by The Carvery, this compilation finally gets the deluxe treatment it deserves: pressed on limited blood-stained vinyl just in time for Halloween 2025.

Having worked together on his 2024 album Colours & Light, Project Gemini aka Paul Osborne joins forces once again with Wendy Martinez, French singer and composer, and also part of renowned psych-girl group Gloria on a new collaborative EP. Landing on Mr Bongo, ‘Time Stands Still / Le temps s'arrête’ is a sonic exploration that shows a shared love of the progressive music emanating out of France in the ‘60s and ‘70s and the celebrated film soundtrack composers of the time. A more melodic and romantic excursion than Paul’s previous recordings, this EP marries his richly textured, cinematic psych rock with Martinez’s captivating vocal presence.

A body of work born during the period Paul was finishing up his last LP Colours & Light, he penned an album’s worth of instrumental library-style music and had the idea of having Wendy add vocals and lyrics to a selection of them. The instrumental record got scrapped, but thankfully ‘Time Stands Still’ grew out of it.

Paul was a fan of Wendy’s work as both a solo artist and in the band Gloria, and her inclusion on the Project Gemini tracks ‘Entre chien et loup’ & ‘Extra Nuit’ showed a clear synergy to their musical approaches and sounds. For ‘Time Stands Still’ he sent over instrumental tracks one by one, with Wendy taking time to find melodies and French poetry she was happy with and returning her ideas from her home just outside of Lyon.

Drawing inspiration from French soundtrack composers such as François de Roubaix, Frances Lai and Michel Colombier, as well as French female artists including Léonie and Laurence Vanay, these productions are a contemporary love letter to this sound, not a homage. Mixing psych, folk, chanson, and French new wave, it’s music that pulls you in deeper, with groove, grit and passion at its core.

'Je n'ai plus peur' kicks things off with a sultry energy. It’s a psych-funk production drenched in attitude, swagger, and edge, which nods to the left-field side of Serge Gainsbourg’s music. Elsewhere, 'Âme contre âme' feels like the opener from a forgotten new-wave film, managing to be at both beautiful yet sinister and longing. 'The Crawler' could be incidental music from the same film, with Wendy using her voice as an instrument layering the backing track as Paul's bass takes centre stage. The ghostly spoken word of 'Ce qui est intact' echoes a funky version of what the Théâtre du Chêne Noir d'Avignon may have recorded.

A transportive journey ‘Time Stands Still’ is nostalgic yet new in the same smoke-filled breath. Fuzzed-up guitars and driving basslines meld with folk-leaning organs and mellotron vibrations to give that eerie, otherworldly edge. All of which are seasoned by the sensuous, layered vocal tones of Wendy Martinez, alongside crisp drums from Tony Coote and considered percussive touches by Paul Elliot.

LA-based producer Real Bad Man and Michigan rapper Willie the Kid release their new collaborative album, Midnight, via the producer’s own Real Bad Man Records label. The album, which marks the producer’s second collaborative project of the year following Dear Psilocybin with ZelooperZ, includes guest appearances from UK rapper Sonnyjim, New York’s Lord Sko and frequent RBM collaborator Boldy James, who will be releasing his own Real Bad Man-produced album in May.

The album came together naturally for the pair, letting each new song inform the identity of the project as a whole. Speaking about how they identified that central theme of the album, Willie says, “I think where Adam and I agreed upon is that the stand out records were all themes for the night, late night drive, after hours dinners, shopping, private rooftop hotel suites, it’s a thinking album, a cruising album preferably enjoyed at night…midnight””

Midnight marks the early stages of what’s shaping up to be a prolific run of collaborations for Real Bad Man in 2025. His second album of the year builds off of the momentum he sparked last month with his first full-length album with ZelooperZ, Dear Psilocybin, which The FADER called “clear-eyed and focused in its own fantastical way”. Working as a duo with the dynamic lyricism of Willie the Kid after the psychedelic sounds of Dear Psilocybin, Real Bad Man returns to the essential underground beatmaking that he first emerged onto the scene with through his On High Alert series. His crackling, lo-fi production pairs perfectly with Willie’s gritty delivery, laying a foundation for the longtime lyrical stylist who has worked alongside some of the genre’s modern heroes including Nas, Lil Wayne, The Alchemist, Roc Marciano, Curren$y and more.

Listen to Midnight above, see below for more details on Midnight and stay tuned for more from Real Bad Man coming soon

Psalm 69 released on July 14, 1992, is Ministry's fifth studio album and peaked at number 27 on the Billboard 200. The album features iconic tracks like Jesus Built My Hotrod, N.W.O., and Just One Fix, blending aggressive guitar riffs with industrial sounds. It received critical acclaim for its innovative and politically charged content, becoming Ministry's best-selling album.

Litania is a doom/hindustan psych band from Italy and Serbia. The sound is based on drones, heavy riffing and inspired by ancient hindustan singing and playing (with instruments such as Sitar, Dilruba and Harmonium). Litania is also the title of our first album, eight tracks of evocative, hypnotic doom, where the raw power of guitars merges with the spiritual depth of Indian classical music. The songs, intense and dark, are interspersed with instrumental passages featuring sitar, dilruba, harmonium, and tanpura. The vocals, deep and ritualistic, draw inspiration from ancient Indian Ragas, evoking a sonic journey suspended between abyss and transcendence.

Red vinyl. Litania is a doom/hindustan psych band from Italy and Serbia. The sound is based on drones, heavy riffing and inspired by ancient hindustan singing and playing (with instruments such as Sitar, Dilruba and Harmonium). Litania is also the title of our first album, eight tracks of evocative, hypnotic doom, where the raw power of guitars merges with the spiritual depth of Indian classical music. The songs, intense and dark, are interspersed with instrumental passages featuring sitar, dilruba, harmonium, and tanpura. The vocals, deep and ritualistic, draw inspiration from ancient Indian Ragas, evoking a sonic journey suspended between abyss and transcendence.

After his 2024 album The Spirit Continues, Tilman returns with Altered Spaces, a tightly focused four-track EP that distills his signature sound into a concise, club-ready format.

Opening track Make My Body Move sets the tone with soulful vocals, warm piano stabs, a rolling bassline and a breezy Balearic vibe. The Last Resort deepens the mood, layering pads, organ hits and shimmering strings over a steady, driving groove. Rounding out the EP are two reimagined cuts from The Spirit Continues. Dance Department (Spirit Mix) smooths out the rougher edges of the original, adding organ stabs and a more melodic sensibility.

Need It (Dance Dub) transforms the track into a softer, dub-tinged version - hypnotic, restrained and full of subtle movement. Altered Spaces is classic Tilman: warm, understated house music that's rich in detail and groove - made for dancers and deep listeners alike.

Returning with its final instalments, Die Schachtel's Decay Music series extends its explorations of inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract with Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s “Liminale” and Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, two astounding electroacoustic gestures of blurred space and time, plumbing complexity of meaning bound to sonority. Creatively groundbreaking and inspired, radically rethinking the terms of what ambient music can be perceived to be, they stand among the most striking efforts to appear within the series to date.

Reconfiguring the notion of bridge building on a multitude of terms, it feels fitting that the tenth and final installment of Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, was co-created by an artist whose work featured in the first suite of LPs issued by Brian Eno’s Obscure Records in 1975, the groundwork toward which Decay Music’s own efforts nod. Since that auspicious debut, “New and Rediscovered Musical Instruments” — his split with Max Eastley — David Toop has been regarded as a pioneer in British experimental and improvised music: a sonic voyager who has continuously challenged the sources and materiality of sound through rigorously thoughtful performances, a vast catalog of recordings, and a steady flow of highly influential texts. Be it as a member of Alterations, his group breaking group with Peter Cusack, Terry Day, and Steve Beresford that ran between 1977 to 1986, or through is noteworthy work with artists like Rie Nakajima, Thurston Moore, Paul Burwell, Rhodri Davies, Lee Patterson, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Akio Suzuki, Elaine Mitchener, and numerous others, collaboration has always played a central role within Toop’s singular practice, but few can claim the sprawling sense of beauty and intimacy that’s achieved by “And I Entered Into Sleep”, his first recorded outing with Sergio Armaroli.

A composer, percussionist, vibraphonist, and multidisciplinary artist, Armaroli has been issuing radical and forward-thinking musical gestures for decades, working as one of Italy’s most noteworthy interpreters of composer’s like Giacinto Scelsi, John Cage, Franco Evangelisti, Giancarlo Schiaffini, and Walter Branchi, as both a solo performer and member of the highly regarded Rib Trio, as well as forging a singular practice as a composer, intertwining his efforts as a painter, concrete percussionist, fragmentary poet and sound artist, within a total art, rooted “within the language of jazz and improvisation” as an “extension of the concept of art”. Like Toop, Armaroli’s career has been populated by many collaborators, notably with Riccardo Sinigaglia, Alvin Curran, and Walter Prati, among others, setting the stage for a remarkable meeting between the pair.

Featuring Armaroli on vibraphone and prepared vibraphone and Toop on electronics, “And I Entered Into Sleep” is “a sonic journey, a Proustian suggestion à la Recherche, into the unconscious between electronic and acoustic sounds”. Using a bell that sounds at the beginning of Proust’s “À la Recherché du Temps Perdu”, which reappears more than 3,000 pages later — signaling a transition of phases, as well an auditory trigger of memory — as a departure point, as an association to the percussive vibraphone pulses that thread the album’s two sides, the pair weave a striking interior world of immersive psychological depth. Feeling almost subaquatic at times, like captured glimpses of rumbling, shadowy ecosystems lost within murky ambiences, before washing ashore in a series of pointillistic, highly detailed alien landscapes of the mind, each artist’s markedly different sound-sources, and treatment of the subsequent material elements, dance in abstract grace, incorporating subtle nods to minimalism, free jazz, and musique concrète within its seamless total form of sparse texture and tone.

Easily one of the most striking and memorable releases by either artist to appear in recent years, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep” traverses uncharted realms at the borders of literary reference, sound art, ambience and abstraction through delicately musical sounds, revealing new depths at every turn. Issued as the tenth and final album in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

On their new album The Besnard Lakes are the Ghost Nation, Montreal’s The Besnard Lakes return with their post-rock psych; but this time around, with a lightness and optimism at play.

Unique among their furrowed brow peers, The Besnard Lakes are unafraid to marry textured, questing headphone sonics to the honeyed pleasure of radio hits past: the rapture of My Bloody Valentine entwined with the romance of Fleetwood Mac. Imagine dreamy Beach House riding Led Zeppelin dynamics, with unabashedly androgynous vocal harmonies; a melodic yet mountainous sound world.

In a crowded leaderboard of their own making, The Besnard Lakes are the Ghost Nation might just be their best album yet; a strive for hope when it is needed most.

After bending boundaries on the acclaimed labels Optimo Music and Höga Nord, Rudolf Abramov resurfaces with a fierce new statement – inaugurating Aquasonic Records, the freshly minted label founded by one half of the duo.

They unveil a sweeping collection of rare recordings, drawn from the shadows of their enigmatic Berlin studio.

This debut full-length album unfolds like a sonic tapestry, threading krautrock, new wave, dub, psychedelia, experimental electronics, ambient, and jazz into a singular, genre-bending experience.

True to form, the duo assembles a diverse ensemble of guest collaborators, fusing layered musical worlds into a cohesive, concept-driven whole.

At its core, the album captures a dynamic interplay: acoustic instruments recorded with raw intimacy and spatial breath meet the hypnotic churn of modular synths, samplers, and analog machines. A vivid document of process, presence, and unfiltered sound, resisting definition, yet wholly their own.

"Prudência / Praga", or "Prudence / Plague", is a double single with these two songs that I composed and which were originally recorded by two of my heroes: Maria Bethânia and Alaíde Costa. Curiously, they are two sambas: although I come from the rock and roll scene in Sao Paulo, I wound up writing a samba as if it were the 50s. At the time of my first heartbreak, at the age of 17, I had the record Jamelao canta Lupicínio with the Orquestra Tabajara on my iPod, and I identified with those dramatic sorrows, almost a hundred years old. In a way, I felt that Lupicínio Rodrigues was bloody and direct, like Tarantino, and Nelson Cavaquinho, heavy metal like Black Sabbath. So, I feel it's a compact 45 of sambas but it's also very Rock n Roll to me. Raw and coming from hell. "Prudência" is that internal battle between the passionate side and the controlling side in the head of the former romantic bohemian. I wrote it for Bethânia to record on her album Noturno. Her version turned into a moving bolero. When I saw her singing it live and the audience singing along with her, I couldn't believe it. I cried, hidden in the audience. She said that when she showed the record to her brother, Caetano Veloso, he thought that "Prudência" was some old classic that she had dug up to bring back to light. Nothing could be a greater compliment than this mistake on Caetano's part. "Praga" also has to do with MPB heroes of mine that I never imagined I'd see up close or have any relationship with or any connection with. I was asked to write these lyrics in partnership with the main man Erasmo Carlos for Alaíde Costa's album! Surreal. Like many people, I got acquainted with Alaíde listening to "Clube da Esquina," her singing with Milton Nascimento. And the idea was to do a poisonous cabaret song samba. The curse of a woman who has dumped a drunk. I love it when Alaíde sings "BIBIDA" in her recording of the song_a total legend. I wanted to produce a kind of horror samba recording, because if it wasn't rock and roll, it wouldn't be much fun for me. I went over to Bielzinho's, and we recorded this chorus that explodes with the percussion and the choir of my friends Tulipa, Maria Beraldo, and Luiza Lian. This take of "Prudência" came from the unpretentiousness of recording two live sessions of the song with Fred Joseph with the cameras of the 70s' program "Ensaio" (MPB Especial) by the great Fernando Faro. The video take ended up being so unexpected and raw that it unseated the studio version, and that's what you hear on the single. The idea behind the video is a sort of this temporal mindfuck; like found lost tapes of the MPB Especial from the early the 70s. Same microphones, same cameras, that zoom_time travel. Between Mil Coisas Invisíveis, the end of the cycle with O Terno, and starting the new album process, I decided to take advantage of the respite to release this rock and roll 45 of sambas, without thinking too much or over-producing the thing. "Prudence? Don't talk to me about prudence!" ;) Tim Bernardes, 2025

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by." Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time will be released Friday, October 10th in vinyl, Japanese import CD (via Plancha), and digital editions.

Steve Hauschildt returns after 6 years with a new album titled Aeropsia. After a transcontinental relocation from the US to Tbilisi, Georgia, the electronic composer emerges from a personal and global transformation to explore themes of perceptual distortion, disconnection, and renewal.

Aeropsia (which roughly translates as “seeing the air”) refers to a visual phenomenon in which objects appear to float or shimmer, often due to changes in pressure, perception, atmospheric shifts or neurological disturbance. This becomes a metaphor for the liminality that informs the record: blurry visions, dreamlike displacements, and the fragile membrane separating what is seen from what is felt.

In the years since his last solo release, Hauschildt’s world has been marked by relocation and a growing sense of global turbulence. These experiences became the raw material for a work that navigates institutional haze and uncertainty itself. The result is music that employs decay as method, structure as entropy, and mutation as expression.

While Aeropsia remains subjective in its vision, Hauschildt invited two previous collaborators to expand the album’s gravitational pull. Cellist Lia Kohl, who previously performed on Nonlin, returns and brings a tactile warmth to select tracks, while guitarist Michael Vallera threads spectral harmonics into the mix. The album’s electronic foundation and its tactile elements meet in a state of luminous suspension to navigate the shifting in physical and psychological terrain.

Auf 500 Stück limitierte 2025er Nachpressung vom 2024er La Luz Album auf gelbgrünem Vinyl. LA LUZ aus Kalifornien wird von Fans und der Presse gleichermaßen seit ihrem Gründungsjahr 2012 geliebt, da sie den Spagat zwischen Chaos und Bittersüße schaffen. Jede neue Platte ist ein weiterer Feinschliff an der Mischung aus schwülstigen Riffs und engelsgleichem Gesang, der an Pop und Folk angelehnt ist; eine Band, die so verlässlich großartig ist, dass sie den gewaltigen Schritt nach vorne in Sachen Selbstvertrauen und schierer Musikalität, den "News of the Universe" macht, umso beeindruckender macht. Cleveland, die auch schreibt und malt, hat sich zu einer wahrhaft originellen Songwriterin mit einem eigenen Kanon geisterhafter Psychedelik entwickelt, die sich in den letzten Jahren von der sich wandelnden Landschaft rund um ihr ländliches Zuhause in Kalifornien hat inspirieren lassen, vor allem auf dem von der Kritik gefeierten Soloalbum Manzanita, einer magisch-realistischen Dokumentation ihrer Schwangerschaft und frühen Mutterschaft, die auf vielen Jahresendlisten stand. Selbst wenn Cleveland jahrelang Songs über Geister geschrieben hat, so ist das, was in den Schatten von "News of the Universe" lauert, nichts weniger als der Tod selbst: "There are moments on this album that sound to me like the last frantic confession before an asteroid destroys the earth." Klanglich ist die Platte voller Dringlichkeit. Die Songs stolpern über sich selbst, als würden sie versuchen, der Apokalypse zu entkommen: das atemlose Prasseln der Toms in "Strange World", das fingerfertige Eröffnungsriff des Titeltracks, getränkt in Verzerrungen. Eine Atmosphäre des Untergangs schwebt über dem Sgt. Pepper-esken Barock-Pop-Song "Poppies", in dem Cleveland von einer schwankenden orangefarbenen Idylle singt, die von der Spätsommersonne in Flammen aufgehen wird. In dem ähnlich kaleidoskopischen "Dandelions" hält sie die gelben Blumen für ahnungslose "kleine Sonnen", die sich im Laufe der Saison in "Monde" verwandeln werden. Die synthetischen Klänge, die auf dem letzten Album "La Luz" von 2021, verwendet wurden, um das träge Summen und Knistern eines Sommertages auf dem Lande zu imitieren, wurden im Weltraum verstreut. Düster, verletzlich, weiblich und unbestreitbar triumphierend ist "News of the Universe" eine weitere umwerfende Platte einer Band, die so verlässlich gut ist, dass die Leute vielleicht übersehen haben, wie bahnbrechend LA LUZ wirklich sind: farbige Frauen in der Indie-Musik, die ihren eigenen Weg gehen, indem sie ihrem eigenen künstlerischen Stern in Galaxien jenseits der aktuellen musikalischen Trends folgen - immer geleitet von einem aufrichtigen Glauben an die kosmische Kraft der Liebe und eines großartigen Riffs. Niemals trifft das mehr zu als auf "News of the Universe", dem vielleicht brutalsten Album von LA LUZ, das aber auch das glücklichste ist.