Suche:quiet light

2023 Repress


Voices From the Lake (consisting of Donato Dozzy and Neel) mark the 10th anniversary of their influential self-titled album with a fully remastered reissue on Spazio Disponibile. It arrives in full on vinyl for the first time, as well as on digital formats, first quarter of 2023 as the pair continues to play select live shows around the world. The release will see the light of day as a 4-set vinyl LP release, including download. Italians Dozzy and Neel have been friends united by a shared vision of music since their teenage years. They are immaculate sculptors of sound who fuse evocative ambient and leftfield techno into multi-layered soundscapes. For many years they worked as established solo artists but came together in 2011 to craft what is now regarded as one of techno's most pure and absorbing listening experiences. It's often said that the best music comes about as a happy accident, and that is certainly true of Voices From the Lake. The career-defining album first arose in the thoughts of Dozzy and Neel when the latter was preparing a mix for the former's wedding and named it Voices From The Lake. It was a pertinent title that stuck in the mind: both grew up by waters around the coast of Italy, and in their early days the pair even held private parties on the shores of a lake. Fittingly, Japan's celebrated Labyrinth festival at that time was also held by a river and a lake in the middle of a forest on a serene mountainside. It was that exact setting the pair envisaged when making music to play live on stage. During preparations, they "accidentally" wrote an entire album. It has only ever been performed live a few times - once at Japan's Labyrinth festival in 2011, at London's Barbican, Barcelona's Mira Festival, Paris' Marathon Festival and once during 2022's Amsterdam Dance Event. Those shows saw the pair using banks of analogue and digital equipment to improvise in the moment and essentially remix the album live on stage. That spontaneity is captured in the original Voices From the Lake recordings and on later LPs such as Live at Maxxi in 2015, and the most recent EP Quarto Freddo from 2020. But the debut album remains a standout achievement. A decade on, it's quiet intensity, musical storytelling and slowly unfolding tension remain in a class of one. Each sound is meticulously designed and placed, and the spaces left behind are just as important in conveying such a captivating mood and emotion. Rather than traditional kick drums, hi-hats or snares, this is music crafted from layers of real-world sound - dripping water, chirping birds, rustling leaves or a distant breeze - and it's that which defines the album's organic allure. From deeply contemplative to cautiously optimistic, pastoral organic scenes to more underwater worlds, Voices From the Lake is a cohesive collection of tracks that add up to one inseparable whole.

"Carol Maia & Jeremy Gustin’s haunting collaborative album is the result of a long distance partnership during which tracks were traded back and forth across thousands of miles, Jeremy working from his home studio in Brooklyn and Carol from hers in Rio De Janeiro. Later they enlisted support from a number of key players in the Rio scene, Frederico Heliodoro, Paulo Emmery, Ricardo Dias Gomes, and from Brooklyn’s musical community, Will Graefe and Ryan Dugre, to shape this understated masterpiece of sophisticated global pop and quiet experimentalism.
"It's hard to describe what Carol, Jeremy and their guests have achieved on 'it's nice to see a lake in your eyes', a kind of pop music that stands outside of time and is neither Brazilian, American or of any other recognisable place. Maybe it's risen out of the lake they imagined into being? Maybe it's formed like rain in the thousands of miles of air between Rio and New York? Whatever happened was certainly alchemical as you will hear.
"Carol told me her writing on this record was greatly influenced by her reading of Marcelo Ariel's poetry book A água veio do sol, disse o breu so maybe the best thing to do to describe this music is to let you read one of his poems:

A luz do ser é como a água
também veio do Sol
onde todos os planetas querem entrar

Dentro do Sol
O ser é imóvel
como a gratuidade de um êxtase
parecido com a respiração

Fora do Sol
o ser é móvel
Tempo eternidade
e tempo cronológico

The light of being is like water
it also came from the Sun
where all the planets want to enter

Within the Sun
Being is immobile
like the gratuitousness of an ecstasy
similar to breathing

Outside the Sun
Being is mobile
Time eternal
and chronological time

"Jeremy Gustin is an unorthodox drummer, percussionist and songwriter who has toured and recorded with Joan as Policewoman, Iggy Pop, David Byrne, Marc Ribot, Delicate Steve, and Norah Jones. If you follow Hive Mind then you probably know him best from his amazing work on Ricardo Dias Gomes' Muito Sol. Jeremy is also in the experimental pop bands Star Rover and Blurry the Explorer.
"Carol Maia is one of Rio's new generation of singers and musicians currently lighting up the city's vibrant music scene. She also featured heavily on Wolfgang Pérez's album Só Ouço, which was released on Hive Mind in 2025."

There is a particular kind of strangeness that arrives on long drives across Europe. Flat light, service stations and fields stretching endlessly past the window. It might look mundane at first glance, but becomes faintly surreal when the tiredness of touring blurs the edges of everything.

That feeling became the quiet engine behind Driving Through Belgium, the debut solo album from Anton Pearson, best known as one of the guitarists in respected post-punk outfit Squid. The title grew from a track that felt like the record’s centrepiece, which itself came from the recurring image of extensive periods on the road across the continent. It is a record shaped in the margins of touring, and finessed in the in-between hours.

Across six pieces, Pearson leans into atmosphere, texture and space. It is ambient in spirit, adjacent to contemporary classical in feeling, but composed less with notes in mind than with sound itself. The compositions rarely began with harmony or melody, with Pearson instead responding to his environment and sounds in real time, placing trust in his instinct.

Although initial inspiration came from the road, the album was recorded in a studio he shares in Brighton, and marks his first fully solo project made in that setting. It gave him access to not only new tools and techniques, but a hitherto un-experienced freedom. Much of the process began experimentally, feeding instruments into unfamiliar chains, pitching loops into unexpected registers and playing with previously unused synthesizers simply to see what they might reveal. Many of the sounds were created out of pure curiosity, wanting to understand a piece of equipment or technology, and then following wherever it led.

The album was built with this experimentation at its core, as Pearson would layer then extract, processing stacks of sound until things blur and confuse. Guitars dissolve into drones, a Pianet Clavinet dances against muddier textures whilst a Korg PS-1000 occasionally cuts through with its glittering top end. On ‘Driving Past the Muscular Cows in Belgium’, a flat, still drone is pushed through valve amps until it growls and tightens with tension, before receding again. Even the trumpet, which Pearson freely admits he is not technically proficient at, is embraced in its naivety, its squeaks left intact rather than corrected. The twin ‘Tintinnabulation’ pieces frame the record with looping, pitched bell like tones, accidental discoveries that became structural anchors. Meanwhile, ‘Teeth to Cut the Grass’ deliberately introduces abrasion, some of the harshest textures on the record, a refusal to become passive background music.


That embrace of imperfection is central. In contrast to the hyper-analytical precision of his band, Pearson was keen to honour first takes. If something felt good, it would stay. The end result is an album that favours looseness, instinct and the energy of creation itself. If Squid thrives on propulsion and tension, Anton Pearson finds his energy in suspension on Driving Through Belgium. It is curious rather than declarative, creating a space where experimentation feels playful again.

These days – on the new, ninth Fink album – Greenall is operating within a lineage of authentic, quietly revolutionary artists from England’s verdant southwestern toe. Artists like Michael Chapman. In 1970, the elusive acoustic guitar wizard released an album called Fully Qualified Survivor. The cult-classic served as a lodestar for Greenall – along with bandmates Tim Thornton and Guy Whittaker – as he began jigsawing together The City Is Coming to Erase it All, the follow-up to 2024’s Beauty In Your Wake. He even considered covering a song from it, but in the process, inadvertently stumbled into what became the album’s opener. ‘Wishing For Blue Sky’ circles a universal teenage ache: waiting for life to start. “No point dying of patience” goes the first lyric as crunching footsteps cue a resonant, open-tuned acoustic swaying into view. By 18, Greenall was fed up with waiting, so he left suburban Bristol and saw the world, sending postcards from the edge, waiting tables, squirreling away tips for the next flight. Thornton had similar experiences when the guitarist/drummer busked across Eur

This is nowstalgia more than nostalgia, though; there’s a parallel between these 18-year-olds and Fink’s autumn-aged family men. “You’re expected to be boring and settling down at this age,” Thornton says. “But we’ve still got this tremendous wanderlust. We want to go and discover, and also achieve things. It’s a nice life – home and family – but fuck, I can’t wait to get back out there.” City is a product of this hunger for discovery, and idolatry of the album as a form – like we had in 1974. City’s cover mirrors its interior, the first song is the greeting, the instrumental closer the conclusion. It’s a story. It’s a record for people who, like its creators, are curious. People who happily face a little cold for music, who light a crackling fire back home, who sit with these songs until they’re ready to chase after their own blue sky

These days – on the new, ninth Fink album – Greenall is operating within a lineage of authentic, quietly revolutionary artists from England’s verdant southwestern toe. Artists like Michael Chapman. In 1970, the elusive acoustic guitar wizard released an album called Fully Qualified Survivor. The cult-classic served as a lodestar for Greenall – along with bandmates Tim Thornton and Guy Whittaker – as he began jigsawing together The City Is Coming to Erase it All, the follow-up to 2024’s Beauty In Your Wake. He even considered covering a song from it, but in the process, inadvertently stumbled into what became the album’s opener. ‘Wishing For Blue Sky’ circles a universal teenage ache: waiting for life to start. “No point dying of patience” goes the first lyric as crunching footsteps cue a resonant, open-tuned acoustic swaying into view. By 18, Greenall was fed up with waiting, so he left suburban Bristol and saw the world, sending postcards from the edge, waiting tables, squirreling away tips for the next flight. Thornton had similar experiences when the guitarist/drummer busked across Eur

This is nowstalgia more than nostalgia, though; there’s a parallel between these 18-year-olds and Fink’s autumn-aged family men. “You’re expected to be boring and settling down at this age,” Thornton says. “But we’ve still got this tremendous wanderlust. We want to go and discover, and also achieve things. It’s a nice life – home and family – but fuck, I can’t wait to get back out there.” City is a product of this hunger for discovery, and idolatry of the album as a form – like we had in 1974. City’s cover mirrors its interior, the first song is the greeting, the instrumental closer the conclusion. It’s a story. It’s a record for people who, like its creators, are curious. People who happily face a little cold for music, who light a crackling fire back home, who sit with these songs until they’re ready to chase after their own blue sky

WRWTFWW Records is pleased to announce its fifth collaboration with NY-LA ambient / jazz / downtempo musician Danny Scott Lane with the first ever vinyl release of his 2022 full-length album Holy Goodnight, available on limited edition LP (500 copies worldwide) housed in a heavyweight sleeve.
After Home Decor, Shower, Caput, and Songs For Sex, here’s another Danny Scott Lane classic. On Holy Goodnight, he handles synths, keyboards, bass, guitar, percussion, and field recordings for a smooth nightride through city pop, contemplative jazz, vaporwave, slow funk, cozy ambient, library music vibes, and relaxed moods.
Holy Goodnight feels like cruising through a half-asleep city with the windows down and the radio low—lush harmonies and soft grooves guiding the way. It’s warm and hazy music for late hours and early mornings, introspective, comforting, cinematic, intimate…
Following the release of chillout staples on WRWTFWW, Danny Scott Lane further cements his unmistakable sonic universe. Complete the collection and sink deeper into the night.
Points of interest
For fans of ambient jazz, city pop, downtempo, smooth funk, vaporwave, library music, night drives, neon lights, quiet introspection, cozy late hours, and peaceful goodnights.
Super limited edition vinyl (500 copies worldwide) of Danny Scott Lane’s Holy Goodnight, available on vinyl for the first time ever.

A Good Year - Play. Driving through the country. Tender anthemic voices. Real sounds and synthetic sounds. Baggy drums. Acoustic guitars, bass drops, big and small, Moody. A Good Year is a collaboration between producer and former Liss drummer Tobias Laust Hansen and filmmaker-turned-musician Albert R. Hildebrand. Featuring: Horse Vision, Koilwood, Tiffi M, Quiet Light, Late Verlane, Alba Akvama, Suisse Air and MØ

(*Previously unreleased)

Two lost cuts from the orbit of Tony Humphries surface at last, pulled straight from acetates in his private archive and pressed here for the first time. Unearthed like messages from the booth itself, they capture that raw, transitional moment when club music was still inventing its own language night after night.
On the A-side, Kerri Chandler with “Kerri Kaoz Beats”, a stripped, swinging tool full of basement pressure and early-morning intent. No excess, no compromise, just Kerri doing what Kerri does best. Flip it over for Dee Dee Brave – “My My Lover (Tony Humphries Dub)”, a previously unheard Humphries reconstruction that stretches the vocal into something deeper, moodier and unmistakably floor-ready. Spacious, patient, and quietly euphoric.
Two pieces of house history that never made it past the acetate stage until now. Not revisions, not edits, but originals finally stepping into the light. Essential documents from the roots that still point forward.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

Gatefold Sleeve

M’Bamina – African Roll (1975)
The story of an album born between Africa, Italy, and the nightclub culture of the 1970s
In the heart of 1970s Italy — a country undergoing profound social change and a music scene just beginning to open itself to distant sounds and cultures — an extraordinary, almost improbable story took shape. It is the story of a group of young African musicians who found their way to Europe, of a Turin nightclub that became a crossroads for communities and experimenters, and of an album which, released in small numbers and largely unnoticed at the time, is now considered a rare jewel of Afro-fusion.
The band called themselves M’Bamina — an ensemble of musicians from Congo, Cameroon, and Benin, who arrived in Italy in the early Seventies. Settling between northern Italy and the Pavia area, they began performing in small clubs and community events, bringing with them a vibrant rhythmic heritage: African polyrhythms, call-and-response vocals, funk-infused bass lines, and Caribbean or Afro-Latin colours absorbed along their musical journeys. Their raw, contagious energy on stage quickly drew attention.
Meanwhile, in Turin, another story was unfolding. There was a venue becoming almost legendary: Voom Voom, one of the city’s liveliest nightclubs, run by Ivo Lunardi. The club attracted an eclectic crowd — students, artists, foreigners, night owls — and Lunardi quickly understood that the dancefloor wasn’t just a place for music, but a melting pot for a new kind of cultural energy. Out of this vibrant atmosphere came his idea: to turn the club’s name into a small independent record label, Voom Voom Music, capable of capturing the spirit of those years and giving voice to unconventional projects.

When Lunardi heard M’Bamina, he immediately sensed that this was the sound he had been searching for: fresh, different from anything circulating in Italy at the time, and capable of blending African tradition with funk and European sensibility. He brought them into the studio.
Production was handled by Lunardi along with Christian Carbaza Michel, while the engineering was entrusted to Danilo Pennone, a young sound technician with a sharp, intuitive ear.
The recording sessions — held in Turin in 1975 — produced a remarkably warm and direct sound. The music feels almost live: grooves rooted in African tradition, but open to funk-rock structures and modern arrangements. It is a natural fusion, never forced. Tracks move between tribal rhythms, funk basslines, light electric guitars, congas and Afro-Latin percussion, with call-and-response vocals and melodies that echo both Congolese tradition and the lineage of Latin jazz. Not by chance, one of the album’s most striking tracks, Watchiwara, reinterprets a Latin standard through M’Bamina’s own rhythmic language.

The album was titled African Roll — a name that was already a statement of intention. It is African music that “rolls,” that moves, adapts, transforms within a new geographic and cultural setting. It is not strictly Afrobeat, nor Congolese rumba, nor Western funk: it is a spontaneous, hybrid blend, shaped more by lived experience than by any calculated aesthetic program.
When African Roll was released, the world around it barely noticed. Distribution was limited, and 1970s Italy had yet to develop a cultural framework for receiving such music. The national music press rarely paid attention to African or “world” productions. The album slipped into silence — though the band’s own story did not.

M’Bamina continued performing across Europe and Africa, even sharing a stage in Cameroon with none other than Manu Dibango. By the late Seventies, they moved to Paris, signed with Fiesta/Decca, and recorded a second LP, Experimental (1978). Meanwhile, the peculiar record they had made in Turin began to resurface quietly among vinyl collectors, Afro-funk enthusiasts, and DJs hunting for forgotten grooves.
That is when the album’s fate began to shift.

Over the decades, African Roll emerged as an almost unique document: a snapshot of an intercultural Italy before the word “intercultural” even existed, a fragment of migrant history, a spontaneous experiment in musical fusion born far from major industry circuits but rich in authenticity. Original copies began commanding high prices on the collector’s market, and the album became recognized as one of the hidden classics of European Afro-fusion from the 1970s.
Today, more than fifty years later, this reissue finally restores visibility and dignity to a project that deserves to be heard, studied, and celebrated. It is not simply an album: it is the testimony of a rare cultural encounter, born in an Italy unaware of how fertile such exchanges would one day become.

It is the story of a visionary producer, an extraordinary band, and a fleeting moment in which music, migration, and nightlife came together to create something genuinely new.
African Roll is — now more than ever — the sound of a bridge: between continents, between eras, between cultures. A record that, after rolling far and wide, has finally come home.

The breakout underground star of the past year, the deservedly hyped Thought Leadership returns with another X ideas: the deck this time chooses the suit of Cups. This new collection is closer to the Post-Punk tonality of Pentacles, than the breezy Balearic Jazz of Swords. Gone are the brushed drum samples and airy synths and in their place are BIG guitars, 808 thumps and a decidedly more prominent use of bass as a melodic device.

As the suit of Cups reflects the emotional heart of the Tarot, presented within are a further X pieces, this time displaying the full range and fervour of Thought Leadership.

You know the drill by now. Originally out on cassette only, we present the first ever vinyl issue. It's a hideously limited pressing of 300 for the world, so don't sleep on this.

Side A explores the emotional levels of consciousness; angst, joy, love, sorrow, relief, regret – they are all represented across the first seven tracks, and often within the same piece. XXI kicks us off with a huge tumbling D minor passage, layers and layers of guitar front and centre, whilst the drums pound away in the distance. Release is provided with a gorgeous G Dorian section, where we hear the bass take flight with a high melodic line.

We’re still in familiar Durutti Column meets Dif Juz territory here, but things switch up with XXII. This piece showcases a darker, more angular palette of guitars; think Alan Rankine (The Associates), or Deb Demure (Drab Majesty) in the unexpected harmonic shifts, knotty arpeggiated patterns and heavy, goth-adjacent modulation. A real love letter to 45+ years of darkly inclined guitar heritage.

XXIII enters the fray with tight, thumping 808s and Marr-esque guitar figures; and again, the bass providing heavy melodic counterpoint to the guitars. Enter chiming, lyrical lead phrasing, reminiscent of the eternal opening to "Everybody Wants To Rule The World". Another accidental perfect pop moment from the Thought Leader. Whilst on the topic of Tears For Fears, XXIV comes swinging out of the gate with some serious Sophisti-chug; we’re reminded of "Shout" in the A section, before being beautifully juxtaposed in the B section with more Vini-eqsue patterns, reminiscent of his timeless classic, Another Setting.

XXV gives us welcome pause to take stock midway through the A side. No drums this time, but instead a heartbreaking conversation between two guitars; think Kevin McCormick and David Horridge’s masterful Light Patterns, or perhaps even the early solo-Bill Connors mid-70s cuts for ECM. The moment of quiet reflection passes, and is quickly shattered by the thudding march of XXVI – this piece comes across like The Associates playing "Wicked Game"; heavy, moody, and utterly compelling. XXVII ends our journey across Side A with more Marr-inspired playing; one for the heads and already featured on mixes, this one is real testament to the vision of Thought Leadership.

Side B again takes us on a trip through three long-form semi-improvised pieces. XXVIII is like those classic Jonny Nash, early Melody As Truth releases, slowly unfurling, additional details introduced deliberately piece by piece, this idea builds across 7+ minutes culminating in some utterly joyous ebow fireworks at the end – well Balearic.

XXIX again, like XXV before it, dispatches the drums with a focus purely on melody and mood. The piece feels like a lost Save Room Theme from the Resident Evil series, pure golden age Capcom Sound Team vibes. Unadulterated aural nostalgia for hours spent with a PS1 in haze of hash.

XXX completes this majestic voyage with another Modal exercise; this time the Thought Leader has opted for the Lydian Mode. Beautifully dreamy, undeniably Soundtrack-y, and arguably the most concise distillation so far of everything this project stands for; drum machines, guitars, pedals, one-take improvised solos – XXX has the lot, and is surely destined for greatness.

So, another X epic statements for guitar, homespun with the humblest of means, for all the dreamers out there. The first ever vinyl release of IV Of Cups has been carefully remastered by Be With's engineer Simon Francis to ensure it sounds better than ever after its initial tape release. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut at Abbey Road Studios whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry, in Holland. The original tape cover artwork, so crucial to Thought Leadership's striking visual aesthetic, has been rejigged for vinyl issue here at Be With.

The last 2 LPs flew. You have been warned.

Bruno Berle is a singer, songwriter, producer, multi-instrumentalist and figurehead of a contemporary Brazilian music movement. With a quiet mastery of songwriting and an astonishing voice, his music has won hearts around the world. Since the release of his debut album No Reino Dos Afetos (2022), Berle has performed across the UK, Europe, Japan, South Korea, and China, only leaving his home country for the first time in 2023. Shaped by these journeys, Berle’s third studio album, Sem Fronteiras (Without Borders), reflects a utopian vision of a unified world.

Recorded across London, São Paulo, Minas Gerais, Germany, and Maceió, the album–co-produced alongside his longstanding musical partner Batata Boy–is the most expansive canvas Berle has worked on to date. Shot through with the imagery that has always animated his songwriting: open skies, morning light, vivid colours and the magic of human connection, Berle’s carefully crafted poetics and warm, delicate instrumentation drive this vivid body of work.

“I came from nothing”–Berle doesn’t take his rise to global prominence for granted.

Born to a working class family from Brazil’s northeastern Alagoas state, one of Brazil’s most economically deprived, Bruno moved frequently in his youth to follow any job opportunities his parents could find, before eventually settling in the coastal capital of Maceió. “I used to travel to Caruaru, Santa Cruz, Recife, Garanhuns, Arapiraca, which I loved and feel it made me ready to be in this rhythm i’, but at the same time I think not having friends from childhood and being in constant change made me a little numb to the constant upheaval”. On Sem Fronteiras, there is a similar duality at play. The album celebrates the collective joy and human connection that live touring brings, but it also sits with the darker realities of crossing borders. While music moves more freely around the world than ever before, our bodies are not granted the same privilege.

Though he’s never lacked self-belief, Berle recognises that talent alone doesn’t guarantee opportunity. “Before my second album No Reino Dos Afetos 2 everything I had ever recorded was made with the help and kindness of people who believed in my ability”. Determined to pay that kindness forward and help others from the sharp end of Brazil’s desperately unequal society, Berle produced and featured on the recent self-titled albums by his northeast Brazilian compatriots, Nyron Higor and Phylipe Nunes Araújo (both 2025), helping propel both onto the international stage. In turn, following the successes of Nyron & Phylipe’s albums alongside his own, Bruno finds himself at the forefront of a thriving community of artists now based in São Paulo, but primarily originating from northeastern states like Alagoas and Pernambuco.

Much like the famed Clube Da Esquina movement that spawned in 1970’s Minas Gerais, they operate with a free-exchange of ideas, writing songs with and for each other, performing on each other’s albums and on the live circuit together. Lead single ‘Manha’ flows from this ethos. It was written by Berle’s friend and fellow Alagoan João Menezes (writer of ‘Ate Meu Violao’ and ‘Te Amar Eterno’ from Bruno’s previous albums) and Marvin Viera, and originally recorded on their 2018 album Areia e Mar.

Sem Fronteiras opens with ‘Você Já Sabe Que Eu Te Amo’, just six beats of one nylon guitar chord ring out before changing key, paving the way for the gentle strike of fender rhodes and the arresting call & response duet between Berle and Higor. On ‘Amor Inteiro’, the album reaches a celebratory burst of catharsis, with the punch-packing drums of Pedro Lacerda and Nina Maia’s joyous backing vocals encapsulating the live energy that Berle and his band bring to the stage.

With the abundant talents of this musical community at its heart, Sem Fronteiras releases 10th July 2026 via Far Out Recordings, supported by a summer tour across Europe. Bruno Berle will perform in a four-piece band alongside Nyron Higor, Phylipe Nunes, and Batata Boy, culminating in an appearance at Roskilde festival, Berle’s biggest live show to date. He’ll continue to carry a hopeful vision of a world where artists and musicians can move as freely as their music flows.

Tracklist:

A1 “Você Já Sabe Que Eu Te Amo”
(Nyron Higor / Bruno Berle)
Nyron Higor – drums, bass, acoustic guitar, electric piano, synthesizers, vocals
Bruno Berle – piano, vocals
Batata Boy – piano
Jorik Bergman – score preparation and conducting
Klara Gronet – violin
Ségolène de Beaufond – violin
Cristina Ardelean Montelongo – viola
Ilektra Stevi – cello

A2 “Não Posso Viver Sem Você”
(Batata Boy / Bruno Berle)
Batata Boy – electric piano, organ, synthesizer
Bruno Berle – drums, bass, synthesizer, vocals
Jorik Bergman – score preparation and conducting
Klara Gronet – violin
Ségolène de Beaufond – violin
Cristina Ardelean Montelongo – viola
Ilektra Stevi – cello

A3 “A Noite de Estrelas”
(Nyron Higor / Bruno Berle)
Nyron Higor – synthesizers
Bruno Berle – bass, drums, vocals

A4 “Outra Noite”
(Bruno Berle)
Nyron Higor – drums
Bruno Berle – acoustic guitar, bass
Felipe Berle – congas
Lucca Francisco – guitar, vocals

B1 “Amor Inteiro”
(Bruno Berle)
Pedro Lacerda – drums, choir
Nyron Higor – bass, choir
Batata Boy – guitars, organ, electric piano, choir
Nina Maia – choir
Bruno Berle – guitars, acoustic guitar, congas, vocals

B2 “Ideias Mágicas”
(Batata Boy / Bruno Berle)
Heloisa Alvino – trombone
Batata Boy – synthesizers, beats, electric piano, organ, bass
Bruno Berle – synthesizer, vocals

B3 “Vim Dizer”
(Batata Boy / Bruno Berle)
Batata Boy – electric piano, organ, synthesizer
Thomas Stankiewicz – synthesizer
Nyron Higor – synthesizer
Bruno Berle – acoustic guitar, bass, vocals

B4 “Tô Assim”
(Bruno Berle)
Bruno Berle – acoustic guitars
Batata Boy – synthesizer
Nyron Higor – bass, synthesizer

B5 “Manhã”
(João Menezes / Marvin Silva)
Bruno Berle – acoustic guitar, vocals, congas, shaker
Batata Boy – piano, shaker, electric piano, vibraphone, synthesizers
Nyron Higor – drums, bass

B6 “Sem Fronteiras”
(Bruno Berle)
Filipe Mariz – guitar
Bruno Berle – acoustic guitar, vocals, bass
Jennifer Souza – vocals, acoustic guitar
Rudson França – drums

Credits:

Produced by Bruno Berle and Batata Boy
Mixed and mastered by Bruno Berle, Batata Boy and Felipe Berle

Audio engineering:
Nyron Higor (track 1 – production; track 4 with Felipe Berle)
Joe Osborne (tracks 7 and 9)
Victor Gelling (strings on tracks 1 and 2)
Filipe Mariz (track 10)

Photography: Claudio Virgínio
Design: Minchai

Recorded in:
Maceió, Alagoas, Brazil
Tamandaré, Pernambuco, Brazil
Belo Horizonte, Minas Gerais, Brazil
São Paulo, São Paulo, Brazil
London, England
Cologne, Germany

Andalusian emerging-talent producer GAZZI, a young yet influential figure within the broader Spanish electronic scene, presents an LP that feels like a quiet turning point in his career. Rooted in ambient and new-age minimalism, the record drifts through piano-based textures, soft pauses, and spacious moments that invite deep introspection.
Across its delicate arrangements, GAZZI captures the sensation of slowing down in a world where everything feels fleeting. These tracks hold space for reflection-offering nostalgia, stillness, and the subtle suggestion that hope remains at the edges of even the most ephemeral moments. Each piece unfolds like a landscape suspended in time, shaped by restraint, emotional nuance, and a profound sense of presence.
Presented by Glossy Mistakes, the release reflects the label's ongoing commitment to uplifting a new wave of contemporary Spanish artists, highlighting creators who are redefining the country's sonic identity through experimentation, sensitivity, and forward-thinking sound design.
In GAZZI's own words:
"These songs were made to sit with the wound - to let you drift, to feel scattered, contemplative; they're meant to keep you from thinking too much - or maybe to make you think a lot."
The result is a meditative, deeply personal body of work-one that not only marks a cornerstone in GAZZI's artistic path but also extends Glossy Mistakes' mission to showcase innovative, emotionally resonant voices from Spain's evolving music landscape.

Skyjoose and Johnnie Clark set out to push the boundaries of UK Garage and 2-Step, crafting a sound that was raw, souldful, and ahead of its time. The project became known as The Stalker – a name that would quietly echo through the underground. Though countless tracks emerged from those sessions, only two saw the light of day on the original Stalker EP released in the year 2000.

Now, 25 years later, The Stalker returns from the depths of the DAT archives – remastered, reawakened, and ready to move dancefloors once again. This special repress features the two original vocal mixes from the Stalker EP, plus four additional club weapons forged in those same legendary sessions – three of which have never been released…until now.

Winding through cavernous and dark meanders, amid gurgling water, rustling sounds, low and deep pulsations, incisive and impactful sound masses, floating waves, crystalline drips, sudden rays of light, electronic spirals, and unexpected openings onto almost soothing soundscapes and quiet environmental stasis, Rod Modell paints musical textures that are apparently abstract and contemplative, but in reality charged with pathos and drama, taking advantage of a spectacular, enveloping and surprising sound quality, in which every nuance and every small detail makes the listening experience even more intense and engaging. A new exciting masterpiece by Maestro Rod Modell.

After a quiet year in the shadows, Mithra rises once more, offering four tributes to the sun. Opening the ritual, Titino’s “Sole Nero” radiates with dark-wave tension and Italo-synth euphoria, a storm of emotion forged for the twilight hours. Riccardo’s “Neosun” follows as a luminous, left-field Euro-pop surge to an ecstatic sunrise in motion. On the flip, Sweater’s “Talk to Me” drifts into warm organic grooves, a perfect hymn for open-air dusk and introspective transitions. Finally, Ewan Jansen’s “Kuseni Yayo” closes the circle with lush pads and earthy resonance, echoing the spirit of dawn breaking through the forest. Together, these four offerings form the first light of our next journey, an initiation toward the mountain peaks that lie ahead.

The union of Antwerp synthesist David Edren and Tokyo minimalist Hiroki Takahashi is a fit so natural as to feel preordained. Both traffic in subtle shades of contemplative electronics, marked by patience, space, and poetic restraint. And both have rich histories of curation and collaboration – Edren in the duo Spirit & Form alongside Bent Von Bent, and Takahashi as proprietor of the Kankyō record shop, as well as one fourth of cosmic ambient quartet UNKNOWN ME. Mutual fans of one another’s work, they began sharing stems in the latter half of 2020, which slowly blossomed into a collection of multi-hued compositions inspired by notions of connectivity and impermanence, translated for east and west: Flow | 流れ.

Opener “Dusk Decorum | 黄昏 礼節” maps the mood of what’s to come, elegantly pirouetting and percolating through an expanding vista of looming stars and half-light horizons. Takahashi describes Edren’s arrangements as evoking “a strange feel, something we haven't heard much of before.” The sensation is one of “in-betweenness,” a restless current whispering beneath the beauty, like seasons seen in time-lapse footage: flickering but infinite, transience turned permanent. Takahashi’s signature sculpture garden tones plot spiral patterns over which Edren cascades dazzling pointillist synthesizer coloration. The pieces veer between delicate and dilated, micro and macro, their aperture forever softly in flux.

From the oscillating orchestral lullaby of “Stalactime | 鍾乳石時計” to the sweeping, sparkling dream sequence closer, “Shift Register | シフトレジスタ,” the album achieves the elusive goal of being more than the sum of its parts. This is music of rare air, elevated and amorphous, shimmering just out of reach. Though Edren and Takahashi have yet to cohabitate the same room in person (a fact that should be rectified soon by an astute festival booker), their palettes and poise are perfectly paired, twin fragilities woven into seven radiant and regenerative vibrational states. The cover design of a beatific, beaded leaf rippling on the surface of a hidden pond aptly captures the record’s muted majesty. Takahashi’s quiet pride is justified: “We are very happy with this time-consuming and carefully crafted work.”