Search:quiet places

Dennis White, Charlie May, and Dave Gardner return with their second outing as Quiet Places on A Strangely Isolated Place, expanding upon their deep and suitably hypnotic long-form compositions across four continuous sides of wax.

Minimal in context and retaining the untitled track approach, the trio of producers, well versed in a variety of music styles between them, leave the music and the subliminal messages contained within as the descriptor.

Finding moments of melody amongst the wide landscape of abstract sounds and samples, is the only glimpse of reality you’ll find down here.

Be The Mountain (2026) is the latest release from Detroit-based musician STS. The record explores a serene and introspective world shaped by organically morphed textures and slowly evolving soundscapes.

While largely drumless, the album maintains a subtle rhythmic backbone - not through traditional percussion, but through modulated pads, shifting synths, and carefully sculpted ambience. The music moves and breathes without overt propulsion, finding tension and momentum through tone, density, and motion rather than beats.

Much of the record was written during a period of sustained physical and mental strain. A time when daily effort fought against perceived limits. Instead of responding with heavier or more aggressive material, the music became a quiet counterweight to the intensity. These tracks function as an escape from chaos. They are built from patience, repetition, and a gradual transformation.

The title reflects a central idea behind the record: confronting something that initially feels insurmountable, only to realize that the enduring force is the one within us all.

Be The Mountain is about endurance, not as struggle, but as presence.

For two decades, Gun Outfit has been a band defined less by genre than by continuity, patience, and a commitment to making music that reflects their lived experience.
Formed in Olympia, Washington in 2006 but long since rooted in Los Angeles, the group has evolved from a raw duo into a quietly formidable five-piece, their sound growing from scrappy post-punk beginnings into something spacious yet intimate, and always underpinned by an experimental edge.
On Process & Reality, Gun Outfit return with their most ambitious and immersive work to-date, a sprawling 80-minute double album shaped by time, environment, and philosophy. Recorded over the course of a single month in the late summer of 2020, on an 80-acre ranch in Pine Flat, California, while a massive forest fire burned less than ten miles away, the seeds of these songs were stark and strange.
Its title, Process & Reality, draws from the central work of philosopher Alfred North Whitehead, whose philosophy places intuition, experience, creativity, and relationality at the center of existence.
The band’s current lineup reflects both longevity and openness. Sharp and Keith remain the band’s primary architects, joined by longtime drummer Daniel Swire, multi-instrumentalist Henry Barnes, and bassist Kayla Cohen. Additional collaborators include Chris Cohen, Warren Lee, and Danny Sasaki all of whom add further depth, leaving subtle fingerprints across the album.
Musically, the album expands the band’s palette without abandoning its core sensibility. Dulcimer, autoharp, sitar, melodica, keyboards, homemade electronics, and a wide range of acoustic and electric textures appear throughout. The sound is mellow yet expansive, songs move between fragility and hefty atmospheric passages.
Influences surface obliquely rather than overtly. Elements of reggae and dub inform the production’s spatial sensibility. Echoes of long-form European jam bands coexist with sharp post-punk. British folk traditions, American country, and classic West Coast songwriting drift in and out of focus; the band is never afraid to lead or follow.

On her new album, Neon Summer Skin, Bedouine, the project of Azniv Korkejian, explores this feeling of safety long before one can fully understand the concept. Written with vivid, honest and intimate imagery after visiting her family in Saudi Arabia, it tells the story of family and upbringing, and mourns the end of her childhood. There is a singular resonance and newfound heft in this music previously unheard in Bedouine’s discography. Bedouine is known for making gentle, lilting folk songs that build fingerpicked guitar melodies into tsunamis of emotion. Her masterful songwriting and timeless melodies have earned her praise from publications like Pitchfork, who said her music “boasts a surreal calm and lived in glow,” and Rolling Stone, who lauded her “humble folk-pop brilliance,” plus an NPR Tiny Desk Concert, and tours with the likes of Fleet Foxes and Father John Misty. While working on the record, Bedouine realized the pain of displacement, of searching for home, has been a throughline in her family history. Other relatives have also experienced this sense of loss as they’ve migrated between Armenia, Syria, and Saudi Arabia. “I felt so frustrated about the places that I'm from becoming war torn or difficult to return to,” she says. “My family has been split apart time and time again.” This realization prompted her to document and honor her parents’ lives and stories. On a family trip to Houston, Bedouine recorded a conversation with her mother and sampled the introduction to “Canopies.” The song tells the story of her mother’s time in an orphanage. She was put there by her own mother as a way of escaping her abusive father. Nearby, her mother would sing about feeling her daughter’s essence in the air: "The waves of Beirut's beaches flutter, and how sweetly they blow my darling's air." It’s a story of profound yearning told with the quiet profundity of a flower blossoming.

For more than two decades, Eamon Harkin has helped shape New York’s communal pulse. As a founder of Mister Saturday Night, Mister Sunday, Planetarium, and Nowadays, he’s created and DJed in spaces where dance, listening, and connection blur into something deeper — places where people come together to make sense of the world through sound.

On his new album, The Place Where We Live, Harkin turns that lens inward. Drawing on 25 years as a DJ and curator, he moves between house, techno, and ambient currents with a sense of stillness and searching. The result is a record that feels both physical and introspective — the sound of the dance floor seen through memory.

The title comes from psychoanalyst D.W. Winnicott’s idea of “the place where we live,” the psychic space between the inner and outer world — where play, art, and culture help us build meaning. For Harkin, an Irish immigrant long settled in another land, that idea resonates both philosophically and personally. The Place Where We Live captures the tension and beauty of the pulse of the club and the quiet of reflection — an album about belonging, transition, and the quiet resonance of finding home somewhere in between.

Various Small Whistles and a Song, the new album by Chicago-based artist Lia Kohl, incorporates notions of space, social relations, and humor. As the title suggests, the album responds to Ed Ruscha’s 1964 photographic artist book Various Small Fires and Milk, which Kohl sees as a wondrous celebration of ordinariness, one that reveals Ruscha’s trademark deadpan humor and depth. In the spirit of that publication, Kohl created her own series of sonic vignettes, with guest appearances from her close community of collaborators including claire rousay, Macie Stewart, Patrick Shiroishi, and others, reflecting the same sense of humor and mundanity.

The structure of the album—16 one-minute tracks—directly mirrors Ruscha’s book, which comprises 15 photographs of fire and one of a glass of milk. Ruscha’s “small fires” are represented here by recordings of whistles—mostly human whistling, with occasional appearances by train whistles, emergency whistles, and a woman selling penny whistles on the street in Guangzhou, China. About this choice of material, Kohl writes: “I’ve always been captivated by whistling—it’s musical but often a bit unconscious; usually solo but often done in public places. There’s something tender and human about hearing someone whistle, a socially acceptable version of hearing their mind wander.” As with Ruscha’s photographs, the whistles are not random snapshots but windows into social situations, narratives, or spaces.

The “milk” of the title — the 16th photograph in Ruscha’s book — is interpreted here as a single recording: a group of people singing together in Barcelona around 6 a.m. on New Year’s morning, captured through the floor of an Airbnb. Kohl describes this as a social, collective sound that contrasts with the solitary nature of whistling. The song functions as a counterbalance—a quiet celebration of shared experience.

Lia Kohl is a composer and sound artist based in Chicago. Her wide-ranging practice includes composition and performance, installation, improvisation, and collaboration. She tours nationally and internationally, working in theater, jazz, rock, and experimental contexts. Her work centers curiosity and patience, an exploration of the mundane and profound possibilities of sound.

A Place In My Memory Is All I Have To Claim is the new album by Australian atmospheric pop trio Hydroplane, the storied 'offshoot' formed by three quarters of independent pop group, The Cat's Miaow. On this, their first music after two decades plus of radio silence, Andrew Withycombe, Kerrie Bolton and Bart Cummings return to the gentle, close-quarters musical world they shared around the turn of the century.

Recorded during 2024 in Melbourne and Ballarat, A Place In My Memory… picks up the thread Hydroplane set down with its precursor, 2001's The Sound Of Changing Places, though you can hear echoes of their other releases, too, with Withycombe noting a through-line from the group's 1998 "Failed Adventure" single. There's little quite like A Place In My Memory…, then or now, though. Maybe you can draw some connections between Hydroplane and their sister group, The Cat's Miaow, while fellow travellers might include Empress, The Ah Club, and further back, Young Marble Giants, Veronique Vincent (the muffled, ticking drum machine also makes me think of Robin Gibb's Robin's Reign).

There's also an umbilical to the bedroom-crafted electronica doing the rounds in the late nineties and early noughties. Hydroplane hint at this through their approach to songwriting, which often builds creatively around loops as structural devices. Through all this, the trio achieve an effortless, organic weightlessness across these nine lovely songs. Many feature Bolton's clear singing voice, drifting along, while guitars, keyboards, drum machines and loops tickertape away. The constituent parts fit together, but they also have a curiously detached quality - think of abstract cloud formations sharing the same sky.

Hydroplane and The Cat's Miaow often dealt in emotional ambiguity and uncertainty, and the uncertainty of the nostalgic. This was always one of the most appealing facets of their music, and A Place In My Memory… is thus named perfectly. I couldn't dream up a better title for the album and its reflections on history, lived experience, and the inevitable tangle between these two phenomena. These reflections variously address such concerns as human cruelty, flight, space travel, adventurism and spiritualism. There's also "To the Lighthouse", not a direct reference to the Virginia Woolf book, but a great title, nonetheless. (They've always had excellent titles, often borrowed, for songs and albums.)

A beautiful collection of drowsy, sleepy pop, humble and quiet, but resolute in its craft, A Place In My Memory Is All I Have To Claim is dream work in practice; a lovely reintroduction. Welcome back, then.

Selekt Wax returns with its second vinyl offering, shifting the lens from introspection toward motion. Where its predecessor explored stillness and space, Varginha 96 leans into rhythm with a more fluid, tactile energy.

Loopedeville works within a minimal framework but pushes it toward something more animated. Groove takes the lead, while detail reveals itself gradually. The result is playful but controlled, built for movement while still carrying depth beneath the surface.

Inspired by the 1996 Varginha incident in Brazil, the record carries a subtle sense of the otherworldly. Not in a literal sense, but in texture. Unfamiliar tones, slightly off center moments, and elements that feel just outside of reach.

Etched on the sleeve, a poem sets the tone:

the analog moment is now
but, how? release
free form feelings finding
new places in yourself
a sort of synthesis
of interpretations
crash & collide
into the infinite groove of reality
but, is anything really real?

A1 – Varginha 96
A breakbeat driven opener centered on a looping vocal from the Varginha ‘96 incident. Off kilter synth textures circle the groove, giving it a subtle, otherworldly feel. Simple on the surface, with depth that reveals itself over time.

A2 – Varginha 96 (Ohm Hourani Remix)
Ohm takes it into a more stripped back, hypnotic space. Centered around the same vocal, the track locks into repetition and feel. Hazy, controlled, and built for late hours.

B1 – Thunders in Paradise
A driving groove built on dusty drums and a tightly controlled rhythm. It holds a steady pulse, with understated details and shifting textures giving it quiet depth.

B2 – Never Enough
A fluid, late night groove shaped by Loopedeville’s signature swing. Less driving than the previous cut, but still locked in, with warm tones and an easy bounce that carries through.

Curió Curió came to flight by chance. Two artists, Rio-born, Austria-based singer and actress Luiza Monteiro and German producer Dustin Braun, had separately reached a fork in their journeys. An opportune encounter soon blossomed into an uplifting, heartfelt Brazilian MPB-groove project shaped by psychedelic disco and studio experimentation. In their own words Curió Curió’s sonic vision “is not straight disco, not straight samba, not strictly old-school but inspired by all of them, creating something contemporary but still nostalgic”.

A modern fusion influenced as much by Gal Costa and Jorge Ben Jor as Say She She and Bala Desejo, their sound deftly plots a course all of its own. A celebration of freedom, movement, love and life, intertwined with introspective moments of reflection. Treating tradition as something alive, migratory and unresolved, the album is not simply bound by a shared love of Brazilian music, but by a deeper question that runs through every track; where does one belong when home becomes plural? As a Brazilian living in Europe, Luiza's lyrics explore themes of identity, culture, and existence. The tracks move between cities and emotional registers without settling, tracing a sense of identity that shifts rather than resolves. Songs like ‘Amor Doente’ and ‘Mar sem Dar Pé’ circle around relationships that resist clarity, while ‘Menina Passarinho’ captures the fear and necessity of committing to music as a path. For Luiza, deepening her commitment to music alongside years in theatre was both inevitable and difficult. Braun’s production follows a similar logic. Initial ideas were often built without obvious reference points, only later incorporating rhythmic and vocal elements that hint at Brazil without reproducing it. Analogue techniques, tape, ribbon microphones and live ensemble recording bring a tactile quality that reflects the duo’s interest in process as much as outcome. Highlights include ‘Bem Querer’, built on an authentic samba street vibe with a super-catchy sing-along chorus, and ‘Vem pra Casa’ with its cosmic-tinged Brazilian boogie flavour. The album closes with ‘A Cor do Meu Sonho’, a quiet act of insistence. A refusal to shrink in unfamiliar environments, and a belief in the strength of difference. It is less a conclusion than a continuation, leaving the central question open. “I started to understand that I can belong to many places at once”, Luiza reflects. “And that can be something to embrace”. Lyrics from the song ‘Raiz’ translate in English to “I value a burning sun and the cold in the air. Constant change is my companion”. With Curió Curió, that idea is lived through sound, story and collaboration. A debut that feels both searching and assured, grounded in heritage yet shaped by distance.

Curió Curió came to flight by chance. Two artists, Rio-born, Austria-based singer and actress Luiza Monteiro and German producer Dustin Braun, had separately reached a fork in their journeys. An opportune encounter soon blossomed into an uplifting, heartfelt Brazilian MPB-groove project shaped by psychedelic disco and studio experimentation. In their own words Curió Curió’s sonic vision “is not straight disco, not straight samba, not strictly old-school but inspired by all of them, creating something contemporary but still nostalgic”.

A modern fusion influenced as much by Gal Costa and Jorge Ben Jor as Say She She and Bala Desejo, their sound deftly plots a course all of its own. A celebration of freedom, movement, love and life, intertwined with introspective moments of reflection. Treating tradition as something alive, migratory and unresolved, the album is not simply bound by a shared love of Brazilian music, but by a deeper question that runs through every track; where does one belong when home becomes plural? As a Brazilian living in Europe, Luiza's lyrics explore themes of identity, culture, and existence. The tracks move between cities and emotional registers without settling, tracing a sense of identity that shifts rather than resolves. Songs like ‘Amor Doente’ and ‘Mar sem Dar Pé’ circle around relationships that resist clarity, while ‘Menina Passarinho’ captures the fear and necessity of committing to music as a path. For Luiza, deepening her commitment to music alongside years in theatre was both inevitable and difficult. Braun’s production follows a similar logic. Initial ideas were often built without obvious reference points, only later incorporating rhythmic and vocal elements that hint at Brazil without reproducing it. Analogue techniques, tape, ribbon microphones and live ensemble recording bring a tactile quality that reflects the duo’s interest in process as much as outcome. Highlights include ‘Bem Querer’, built on an authentic samba street vibe with a super-catchy sing-along chorus, and ‘Vem pra Casa’ with its cosmic-tinged Brazilian boogie flavour. The album closes with ‘A Cor do Meu Sonho’, a quiet act of insistence. A refusal to shrink in unfamiliar environments, and a belief in the strength of difference. It is less a conclusion than a continuation, leaving the central question open. “I started to understand that I can belong to many places at once”, Luiza reflects. “And that can be something to embrace”. Lyrics from the song ‘Raiz’ translate in English to “I value a burning sun and the cold in the air. Constant change is my companion”. With Curió Curió, that idea is lived through sound, story and collaboration. A debut that feels both searching and assured, grounded in heritage yet shaped by distance.

When billy woods released Today, I Wrote Nothing ten years ago, it was an unexpected departure from a rapper who was just starting to make waves in the indie rap scene. After spending the earlier part of his career in the wilderness, woods had managed to crawl out of obscurity with the minor success of 2012’s History Will Absolve Me. Dour Candy, 2013’s collaboration with underground legend Blockhead drew accolades, which only increased with Armand Hammer’s debut Race Music.

Then, woods dropped out of sight for two years before returning with Today, I Wrote Nothing, a record that deviated significantly from what had come before. Where Dour Candy had been concise and focused, TIWN was a sprawling 24 tracks. Where History Will Absolve Me was anchored by hard-hitting beats, anthemic songs, and a couple high powered features, TIWN was comprised of short vignettes, quietly eclectic production, and the only guests were his Backwoodz label-mates. Only one video was released; the claustrophobic “Flatlands”, shot on a shoestring budget in a Brooklyn housing project. Reviewers didn’t know quite what to make of the record, and in many cases, neither did fans.

As is often the case for woods’ albums, many perspectives shifted as the years passed. Listeners came to see the sad, quiet beauty of Today, I Wrote Nothing; a road trip album that doubles as a meditation on life’s journeys and death’s hiding places. The album’s power is in it’s intimacy, it’s insistence on holding your hand through the darkness. Now, TIWN is considered one of the more unique and vital records in woods catalogue. The dynamic woods created with TIWN vis-a-vis History Will Absolve Me and Dour Candy is one that would come to define his ouerve; constant experimentation, a refusal to be pigeonholed, and an unwavering search for the emotional heart of his subject. For us at Backwoodz, being able to repress this album on it’s ten year anniversary is especially sweet, because we remember how long it took us to sell that original run of 500. To everyone who copped one of those and helped us keep the lights on, this is for you too, we couldn’t have gotten here otherwise.

The soundtrack of Imaginária Records continues through the natural elements of our planet. Split into the three moments of a single cycle, after the journey (The Trip) and then the places (The Place), to arrive at a conclusive return. The label traces the steps of a metaphysical journey that becomes a metaphor for life, the essence of research and the richness of encounters. And it is in this record: Home. The environment contains many sets of rhythms: those dividing day from night, sun from moon, summer from winter. To all things there is a season. There is a time for light and a time for darkness, a time for activity and a time for rest, a time for sound and a time for not-sound. It is here that the natural soundscape provides a clue, for if we could register all the periods of rest and activity among natural sounds, we would observe an infinitely complex series of oscillations as each activity rises and falls from exertion to slumber, from life to death.

A collection of obscure and unheard metaphysical sounds, 1980-1992

Lost Coast: Some Visionary Music from California assembles little unknown sounds from California’s metaphysical underground. Each recording is stylistically different—dream pop, guitar soli, fourth world, avant-electronic—but they are held together by a regional ethos of the “visionary.” This is music that envisions, seeing through the mind’s eye and conjuring new worlds.

Some people say that California is where “the nuts stop rolling”—where those too eccentric to fit in elsewhere ended up. What was meant pejoratively is easily reclaimed as a celebration of the free-thinking and the freely-freaking. Until the turn of the millennium, all manner of seekers rolled westward until they hit the pacific. Stationed along this edge, music was a way to roll still further: to imagine territories unencountered and wavelengths as yet unheard.

Lost Coast is a commemoration of the people who made these journeys and a resurrection of recordings they made little effort to broadcast. While some of the tracks were originally released on cassettes with modest distribution, others were only shared among friends or never shared at all. Assembled from the personal collection of House Rules operator Zully Adler, these recordings were all found on cassettes in flea markets, barn sales, rural thrift stores, and even stranger places—outside a gem and mineral shop, for example, and on the ranch of a retired mescalin dealer.

Nonetheless, these recordings are eminently listenable. California is a place where the strange and the pleasurable are frequent bedfellows.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

Cathartic avant-rock, literate DIY folk & experimental composition exploring displacement, love, climate change, belonging & the places we call home - RIYL Jim O’Rourke, Richard Youngs, This Heat, Richard Dawson, Flying Nun. ‘Real Home’ is the new album by the Manchester-born, London-based artist Kiran Leonard. His sixth album proper (not including innumerable tour-only CD-Rs and short-run cassettes), since his precocious debut in 2013, ‘Real Home’ finds Leonard invigorated by inspiration and experience, making passionate, literate, and mercurial music that explores displacement, love, memory, climate change, connections to home and more. Encompassing songs recorded after moving to South London, ‘Real Home’ reflects on ideas of belonging and domesticity through folkloric, stream-of-consciousness songwriting. Across nine tracks, Leonard traces lived impressions of the household and the city, expressing sentiments of dislocation, alienation and stasis, but contentment too. Infusing the avant-rock effervescence, terraced dynamics and visionary lyricism of his music with what he defines as a greater sense of openness, Leonard is as versatile, fervent and imaginative as ever on ‘Real Home’, yet his music is somehow more intimate, affecting, and acutely expressive. Shaped by dual considerations of simplicity and formalism, ‘Real Home’ is by turns beautiful, allusive, and ruminative, an album on which Leonard considers what his songs have resembled in the past and what they mean now. In recent years, Leonard has crafted eloquent chamber music inspired by the likes of James Joyce and Clarice Lispector (‘Derevaun Seraun’), responded to contemporary politics and communication breakdown in the digital age (‘Western Culture’), and compiled solo works and ensemble recordings for a longform ode to Jonas Mekas and to one of Leonard’s enduring themes; home (‘Trespass On Foot’). On ‘Real Home’, Leonard reiterates this abiding thematic focus yet ascends to new, different heights, in music of cathartic delicacy and dissonance where all the myriad dimensions of his work to date seem to crystallize. There are sinuous songs about struggle and defying the pace of city life through drift and diversion (‘Pass Between Houses’), stirring songs of intense feeling and crescendo, described as a form of speculative detective fiction (‘Theatre for Change’). There are touching solo piano ballads (the title track), symbolic contentions with carbon capture and climate change (‘Utopia of Bog’), modes of experimental minimalism (‘Void Attentive’), and other profuse feats of compositional range, embroidered with wild tendrils of narrative and lyrical depth. A record to pore over, and get lost in. Exemplifying the vast aesthetic scope of Leonard’s music, lead single ‘My Love, Let’s Take The Stage Tonight’ is inspired by country lodestar Hank Williams, Russian poetry and a late period love poem by William Carlos Williams. Yet for Leonard, the song signals a sense of accessible materiality, and is the product of a more linear approach to writing songs: “My imitation of the great Hank Williams, in spirit if not in substance…This is one of the best efforts on Real Home at a song-as-object. Looking at it now I realise I was trying to write a song that made itself known as a song to the listener, and I wonder whether that’s crucial if you want a song to transcend its context. And that this is either accomplished through a total openness – by being inviting, by laying the tricks of the song out plain to see, as Williams and his many ghostwriters did so well – or by adopting a knowing aloofness, positioning oneself against the listener but letting it be known that that’s what it’s doing. In this song I try both, but mostly the former: as in, I wanted to write a song where every line follows on from the next.” Imbuing the endlessly elaborate and inventive qualities of his music with a newfound streak of candid, clear-cut melodicism, Leonard has reached a special place in his artistry, on a record that feels familial, and expresses closeness. Assembled with affiliates including Lauren Auder, Otto Willberg, Jasper Llewellyn (caroline), Tom Hardwick-Allan (Shovel Dance Collective), Magda McLean (caroline, The Umlauts), Alex Mckenzie (caroline, Shovel Dance Collective), Isabelle Thorn (Dear Laika) & more, the recording process had a significant influence on the subject matter of ‘Real Home’, in sessions defined by close-knit camaraderie and artistic eccentricity: “The theme of the home obviously recurs throughout the record; the album was mostly recorded in domestic spaces with friends, and the name of the album is Real Home. I like the qualifier ‘real’, like you’re getting past the cloak of the word and towards the thing-itself…also nearly all the percussion in this record was recorded on items from my dad’s shed (jam jars, sandpaper, blocks of wood, etc). Real home record!” ‘Real Home’, like anything by Kiran Leonard, is a record of dazzling multiplicity. Yet it’s a companionable prospect with a central premise; a collection of songs where listeners old and new can find a home. An album led by a scene; of Leonard standing at the threshold, ready to welcome you inside. “Exceptional songs that linger” - The Guardian // “An autodidact of amazing talent & energy” – Pitchfork // “A ridiculous amount of talent…confrontational, celebratory, provocative or perverse – he manages all of these emotions & more” - The Quietus /

Delphine Dora, the prolific French composer and multi-instrumentalist, graces Marionette with a suite of keyboard instrumentals that evoke futurism and the transcendental. Based in France and actively releasing music since the 00’s, Delphine’s remarkable solo and collaborative projects loosely connect the dots scattered across modern classical, folk, ambient, and poetic writing - always seeking new ambitions in terms of her sound.

Leaving behind the chaos of city life for the quiet solitude of a small village in the French countryside, Delphine finds herself fully immersed in the present moment and committed to her multi-disciplinary creative practices, savoring the experiences of deep listening in nature and her environment. Drawing from an academic background in Outsider Art and Art Brut, Dora yearns to express intimate inner dialogues, revealing the beauty of vulnerability through transportive musical passages to the mystical and sublime.

L’inéluctable pulsation du temps was composed in 2018, at a time when Delphine’s life was becoming increasingly busy, marked by relentless touring and concerts unfolding in rapid succession across different places. Written in parallel with L’Inattingible, her most ambitious album, it stands as its instrumental counterpart. The recordings reflect a period of exploration and assimilation of the Nord Electro, an instrument that opened up vast sonic possibilities, particularly for the development of rich polyphonies inspired by repetitive music. The track titles draw inspiration from an essay by Hartmut Rosa on the notions of acceleration and alienation - a reflection that resonates strongly with the pre-covid era right before the quarantine. The album reveals Delphine’s most colorful and rhythmic side, an aural mille-feuille, in total contrast with her previous melancholic vocal works.

On L’inéluctable pulsation du temps, Dora sustains atmospheric drone miniatures that form the foundation for flowing, cyclical arpeggios, spiraling into a liminal dream space where the repetitive phrasing of melodies rewards introspective listening. The compositions move through (dis)enchanted landscapes, taking unexpected turns into more haunted terrain, their contours further blurred by Dora’s intuitive articulation and sense of refinement. By mirroring both the acceleration of time and the experience of alienation, Delphine conjures up timeless sonic meditations, rendering the inevitable pulsation of time as something at once mesmerizing and unsettling.

Recorded on a packed night at Portland’s beloved haunt The Showdown, this live album captures Jeffrey Martin at his most raw and spellbinding. Although technically a live recording, the album possesses the same fidelity as his studio work, utilising the same stripped-back techniques that allow him to captivate any audience. This performance captures the full power of Jeffrey’s live presence - complete with his remarkable storytelling, both in and between songs - and firmly places him among the most compelling American singer-songwriters of today.

“There's a clarity here that feels hard-won. Honing ideas first explored with his Organic Music series, Tiago Sousa unlocks the final puzzle pieces on Sustained Tones Vol 1. This music is enchanted, the way each layer moves in conjunction with the others: complex structures that feel less constructed than discovered, like stumbling upon ancient mechanisms still whirring beneath the earth. "Readily Reliance" opens as an effervescent sea, waves gilded in neon creating an enveloping sense of eternal motion. Bright organ timbres throw silhouettes and cast Sousa as the deft puppeteer keeping everything moving with an effortless precision. These evolving shapes suspend listeners somewhere between the physical and the cosmic, held in place by nothing but intention and sound.

Drones build rippling foundations in other places, using slower tempos to construct immersive, off-kilter sound worlds where minimalism becomes emotive, almost poignant. The fluctuating tones have a gossamer sheen, creating this interesting sonic dichotomy: a solid surface with fragile rotations beneath. It's music that commands attention; it is so much more than simply aural furniture. Sousa writes these beautiful sequences that are all interconnected, intricate sonic architecture that pulls us further into some kind of unknowable ether.

On the piano pieces, "Smooth Flow Into It" and "Swirling Mist and Thin Dust," Sousa shines sunlight through all the cracks. Washes of melody are effervescent, clouds clearing to reveal the day has not gone. Not yet. Positioned in the middle of Sustained Tones Vol 1, these pieces ground the album in something transcendent yet still earthen: moments of breath inside all that cosmic drift. Darkness finds its way through on "Restlessness," where Sousa smears sinuous electronics into a ghostly sonic mesh that seeps through the skin. It feels like a slow inhale, time suspended long enough to take note of where we are and how we feel before moving forward. Expressive, almost sparkling synth arrangements return to send us back into reality on closer "Becoming a Landscape." Its title hints at larger concepts at play throughout this album, where lines between our physical beings and the wider environment are blurred. The tones that echo throughout these six pieces mirror the echoes inside our bodies, from heartbeats and voices to something quieter, something much smaller and more elemental. By immersing us inside these mesmerising, beautiful soundscapes, Sousa immerses us within ourselves.’’

Brad Rose, 2025

“So, how did this band even happen?” That’s the question most often asked of Winged Wheel, a creatively and geographically scattered collective who have somehow congregated to make a noise that’s unexpected but undeniable. The band includes Whitney Johnson (Matchess, Circuit des Yeux), Cory Plump (Spray Paint, co-owner of the dream venue Tubby’s), Matthew J. Rolin (solo guitar wizard and half of the Powers/Rolin Duo), Steve Shelley (Sonic Youth), Lonnie Slack, and Fred Thomas (Idle Ray, Tyvek), each player living in a different city and bringing their own unique element to the group’s chain reactions. Early long distance file-trading between a few members yielded 2022’s No Island, a debut album that was accidentally really good. Good enough for the band to expand their membership and meet in person for the sessions that became 2024’s Big Hotel, a surgically-assembled murk of high energy kosmische rock with jammed-out tendencies.

Fast forward just a little and all of a sudden the band that started out as a passing idea has completed multiple tours, become a taper’s dream with sets that drift through structure and improvisation, and ridden the momentum to places unforeseen on their third album, Desert So Green. After a run of shows across the Midwest in the spring of 2025, the group settled into a studio on the outskirts of Chicago to track their next record. Though the full lineup had only been solidified for a little over a year at this point, time together on stage led to a quickly-expanding sound and a unified vision of always going somewhere new. To this end, Winged Wheel abandoned the play-now-sort-it-out-later approach of Big Hotel and instead spent hours refining flashes of inspiration into coherent songs.

Jiyu wird als moderner Late-Night-Nu-Cosmic-Space-Jazz beschrieben. Mit ihrem hochgelobten zweiten Album "Totem Of Quiet Mystic" erhielt die dänische Formation internationale Anerkennung von Medien wie Jazzwise und einer Vielzahl legendärer DJs wie Patrick Forge und Chris Coco. Die tiefgründigen, instrumentalen Arrangements, vollgepackt mit analogen Synthesizern, E-Piano, Bläserthemen, Chorarrangements und einzigartigen Bass-Drum-Percussion-Grooves, verschieben mutig die Grenzen zwischen den Genres und reichen von Contemporary über Jazz-Funk und World-Crossover bis zu Spiritual und Cosmic Ambient Jazz.

Straight out of the local mud of the city of Antwerp comes dancing this next Souvenirs from Imaginary Cities slab of free-flowing bits of electronic wonder : Schönen Abend by Simon B. Just in time to ease you out of this endless winter and right into springtime. Like the previous hit by Purple Uncle, this flower takes some time to bloom and fill up your head and body with it's ear wormy fragrance.

It's hazy and cinematic, makes you think of Italian electronic pioneers and their library magic, Patrick Cowley's School Daze and Haruomi Hosono in some kind of gothic manner. It's quite stripped and lush at the same time, rhythms like minimal mechanics make you fly above the river and land just outside reality. It's a nice place where soft jazz tingles right around the dark corner, and that particular mix of exotica and melancholia — the trademark of this port city's best electronic auteurs is definitely in the air. The river still shines, but she’s deeply poisoned. The old town has lost every bit of fresh air but keeps on digging for old gold. This bitter pill is served with delicacy and lightness, the wound is dressed up seductively — feet in the mud, head in the air. Stuff is sensuous, with quiet places reminding of the good side of those times when the big wheel stopped turning ever so madly. A strange quietness whistles through the leaves. Some things take time to unfold. In or out of C.

Four years in the making, this is the solo debut LP of Simon B, a longtime contributor to Antwerp's improvised music scene (Groovecats Deluxe, Wij Blij Trio ). Primarily a double bass player, he also has a deep-felt passion for offbeat electronica and the rainbowy side of American minimalism, which takes front here. The smoky voice on the last track belongs to Nina-Joy Thielemans, Nina-Joy is part of Particals, a trio working with live electronics and field recordings, releasing an lp on Ultra Eczema later this year. Furthermore, you can hear the tenor and soprano saxophone of Adia Van Heerentals on 4 tracks, deepening out Simon's naturally flowing compositions and playing around with his melodies. You may know her from Bodem and her strong presence in the Belgian jazz scene lately.

Simon's electroacoustic experiments — using a clarinet and some outboard effects — were important tools in finding the very specific colour of this record. There's this airy character, like wind blowing through old layers of bricks and over the river, anchored with a deep sense of bass, gathering ages of dust and memories in these eight elegantly wobbling tracks, forming a perfect whole that’s really coming together in one deep listening from A to Z.

The centrepiece is perhaps Come to Me, instrumental and reprise with vocals, but no fillers on this one. Every part of the mystery is needed to come to its end and back again. It's a record that works in the morning, to open up a day and in the quiet corners of the night, with it's sleazy quirkiness, smiling towards you from the right corner of the eye. A perfect compagnon for your long-form wandering habits, light reflections on a wet surface obsessions, coffee slurping in the morning and the forgotten art of beachcombing. Quite essential these days, witnessing a world going apeshit.

Los Angeles artist and musician Shlohmo returns with a vinyl repress of two of his defining albums: "Bad Vibes" and "The End". From the first sounds of Henry Laufer"s early work, it was clear he was forging a new path in electronic music - melding hazy textures, emotive melodies, and fractured beats into a sound both intimate and expansive. Bad Vibes introduced Shlohmo"s lo-fi, slowmotion approach, crafting emotive atmospheres that would influence a generation of West Coast producers. The End, a cinematic journey of chaos and calm, cemented his status as a visionary, blending apocalyptic tension with moments of quiet reflection, made with drum machines, vintage synths, and improvised recording techniques.

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

múm are returning with a new album on Morr Music. »History of Silence« is the first full body of work by the Icelandic collective since 2013's »Smilewound« and their seventh studio album to date—recorded, deconstructed, put back together again, refined and finished over the course of two years. Vibrantly oscillating around a carefully curated palette of electronic and analogue sounds, the eight new tracks reflect the group's continuous strive to explore sonic spaces through subtle yet gripping songwriting.

For a long time now, múm have been exploring the idea of distance in their music. In the beginning, this was born purely out of necessity. Founded in Iceland in the late 1990s, the members soon began embarking on journeys across the world—collectively while touring, but also individually, exploring new places to live and create. Settling in, moving on, catching up: The concept of distance soon became an integral part of the collective's process. »History of Silence« leans into this idea, with space and time becoming indispensable pillars of the arrangements. While being coherent and structured, they echo their origins from different seasons, cities, and spaces—neatly stitched together with unparalleled craftsmanship. They breathe an overall airy and intimate atmosphere, yet resonate with the structural heft of time.

On »History of Silence« time manifests in unexpected, liberating, and mesmerizing ways. It does not move reliably forward; it drifts, takes twists and turns, even disappears completely. Electronic textures blur into acoustic sounds, voices flicker and dissolve, melodies stumble and repeat. The arrangements often feel like they’re wandering, gently resisting direction. »Our Love is Distorting,« for instance, begins with a subtle piano motif, playing hide and seek with feedback noises, digital artefacts, and lush—yet very quiet—string arrangements, before gradually forming into a distinctive song. It's a perfect illustration of múm's general approach on this album. »Mild at Heart« turns this idea upside-down, flowing freely from start to finish with moments of silence sprinkled in—serving to emphasize the musical elements. The music on »History of Silence« moves like weather: unexpected, intimate, quietly detailed. Contrasted with vivid phrases, rhythmic shifts, and small hooks, the album offers a new angle of compositional clarity and vision.

Work on »History of Silence« began at Sudestudio in southern Italy. Additional recordings were made in Reykjavík, Berlin, Athens, Helsinki, New York, and Prague. The strings were recorded by Sinfonia Nord at the Hof concert hall, Akureyri, arranged and conducted by Ingi Garðar Erlendsson, who has worked with the band for many years. The orchestral elements don’t dominate the record—instead, they surface gently, adding depth and resonance to the songs without disturbing the songs' fragility.

Contrary to what the album title suggests, »History of Silence« is a collection of bold and colorful songs, no matter how muted they might sound at times. They tickle like a feather drifting through the wind, ending up in unexpected places, stimulating long-forgotten thoughts and feelings, intimate moments of introspection. The songs move through the echoes those moments leave behind: the emotional traces of things unsaid, the weight of stillness. Offering closeness by means of distance and much-needed support.

múm are returning with a new album on Morr Music. »History of Silence« is the first full body of work by the Icelandic collective since 2013's »Smilewound« and their seventh studio album to date—recorded, deconstructed, put back together again, refined and finished over the course of two years. Vibrantly oscillating around a carefully curated palette of electronic and analogue sounds, the eight new tracks reflect the group's continuous strive to explore sonic spaces through subtle yet gripping songwriting.

For a long time now, múm have been exploring the idea of distance in their music. In the beginning, this was born purely out of necessity. Founded in Iceland in the late 1990s, the members soon began embarking on journeys across the world—collectively while touring, but also individually, exploring new places to live and create. Settling in, moving on, catching up: The concept of distance soon became an integral part of the collective's process. »History of Silence« leans into this idea, with space and time becoming indispensable pillars of the arrangements. While being coherent and structured, they echo their origins from different seasons, cities, and spaces—neatly stitched together with unparalleled craftsmanship. They breathe an overall airy and intimate atmosphere, yet resonate with the structural heft of time.

On »History of Silence« time manifests in unexpected, liberating, and mesmerizing ways. It does not move reliably forward; it drifts, takes twists and turns, even disappears completely. Electronic textures blur into acoustic sounds, voices flicker and dissolve, melodies stumble and repeat. The arrangements often feel like they’re wandering, gently resisting direction. »Our Love is Distorting,« for instance, begins with a subtle piano motif, playing hide and seek with feedback noises, digital artefacts, and lush—yet very quiet—string arrangements, before gradually forming into a distinctive song. It's a perfect illustration of múm's general approach on this album. »Mild at Heart« turns this idea upside-down, flowing freely from start to finish with moments of silence sprinkled in—serving to emphasize the musical elements. The music on »History of Silence« moves like weather: unexpected, intimate, quietly detailed. Contrasted with vivid phrases, rhythmic shifts, and small hooks, the album offers a new angle of compositional clarity and vision.

Work on »History of Silence« began at Sudestudio in southern Italy. Additional recordings were made in Reykjavík, Berlin, Athens, Helsinki, New York, and Prague. The strings were recorded by Sinfonia Nord at the Hof concert hall, Akureyri, arranged and conducted by Ingi Garðar Erlendsson, who has worked with the band for many years. The orchestral elements don’t dominate the record—instead, they surface gently, adding depth and resonance to the songs without disturbing the songs' fragility.

Contrary to what the album title suggests, »History of Silence« is a collection of bold and colorful songs, no matter how muted they might sound at times. They tickle like a feather drifting through the wind, ending up in unexpected places, stimulating long-forgotten thoughts and feelings, intimate moments of introspection. The songs move through the echoes those moments leave behind: the emotional traces of things unsaid, the weight of stillness. Offering closeness by means of distance and much-needed support.

múm are returning with a new album on Morr Music. »History of Silence« is the first full body of work by the Icelandic collective since 2013's »Smilewound« and their seventh studio album to date—recorded, deconstructed, put back together again, refined and finished over the course of two years. Vibrantly oscillating around a carefully curated palette of electronic and analogue sounds, the eight new tracks reflect the group's continuous strive to explore sonic spaces through subtle yet gripping songwriting.

For a long time now, múm have been exploring the idea of distance in their music. In the beginning, this was born purely out of necessity. Founded in Iceland in the late 1990s, the members soon began embarking on journeys across the world—collectively while touring, but also individually, exploring new places to live and create. Settling in, moving on, catching up: The concept of distance soon became an integral part of the collective's process. »History of Silence« leans into this idea, with space and time becoming indispensable pillars of the arrangements. While being coherent and structured, they echo their origins from different seasons, cities, and spaces—neatly stitched together with unparalleled craftsmanship. They breathe an overall airy and intimate atmosphere, yet resonate with the structural heft of time.

On »History of Silence« time manifests in unexpected, liberating, and mesmerizing ways. It does not move reliably forward; it drifts, takes twists and turns, even disappears completely. Electronic textures blur into acoustic sounds, voices flicker and dissolve, melodies stumble and repeat. The arrangements often feel like they’re wandering, gently resisting direction. »Our Love is Distorting,« for instance, begins with a subtle piano motif, playing hide and seek with feedback noises, digital artefacts, and lush—yet very quiet—string arrangements, before gradually forming into a distinctive song. It's a perfect illustration of múm's general approach on this album. »Mild at Heart« turns this idea upside-down, flowing freely from start to finish with moments of silence sprinkled in—serving to emphasize the musical elements. The music on »History of Silence« moves like weather: unexpected, intimate, quietly detailed. Contrasted with vivid phrases, rhythmic shifts, and small hooks, the album offers a new angle of compositional clarity and vision.

Work on »History of Silence« began at Sudestudio in southern Italy. Additional recordings were made in Reykjavík, Berlin, Athens, Helsinki, New York, and Prague. The strings were recorded by Sinfonia Nord at the Hof concert hall, Akureyri, arranged and conducted by Ingi Garðar Erlendsson, who has worked with the band for many years. The orchestral elements don’t dominate the record—instead, they surface gently, adding depth and resonance to the songs without disturbing the songs' fragility.

Contrary to what the album title suggests, »History of Silence« is a collection of bold and colorful songs, no matter how muted they might sound at times. They tickle like a feather drifting through the wind, ending up in unexpected places, stimulating long-forgotten thoughts and feelings, intimate moments of introspection. The songs move through the echoes those moments leave behind: the emotional traces of things unsaid, the weight of stillness. Offering closeness by means of distance and much-needed support.

Balmat 17 marks both a return and a new frontier. It is the second album on the label from Patricia Wolf, whose 2022 album See-Through is one of the most beloved in Balmat’s catalog; it also marks the first time that Wolf has turned her hand to a film soundtrack. The results are every bit as magical as fans of the Portland, Oregon, composer’s music might expect.

Hrafnamynd—Icelandic for “raven film”—is a new feature-length documentary by experimental filmmaker Edward Pack Davee. Shot on a mix of film and digital formats, and incorporating his father’s Ektachrome slides from the 1970s, the autobiographical film works on multiple levels at once: a reminiscence of his childhood in Iceland, an exploration of landscape and folklore, and a documentary study of the island nation’s ravens—including a talking raven named Krummi.

Wolf is the perfect artist to score such an unusual film. Mixing ambient music and field recording—including extensive experience documenting bird song—Wolf brings an unusually empathic perspective to her music. In the context of Hrafnamynd, her airy melodies, pensive atmospheres, and vivid textures intuitively complement the film’s grainy film stock and blown-out colors. Friends for years, the two artists further bonded when Wolf asked Pack to film music videos for her songs “Woodland Encounter” (from See-Through) and “The Culmination Of” (from I'll Look For You In Others). Pack used Wolf’s previously recorded music as placeholders as he began assembling a rough cut of the film, which made her a natural choice to help him complete his idiosyncratic vision with an all-new, bespoke score.

But Wolf’s soundtrack also indisputably stands alone as a full-length album. Largely created using the UDO Super 6 synthesizer, it features a carefully distilled palette of warm, string-like pads and darkly glistening mallets, rounded out with the very occasional introduction of nylon string guitar. Musically and stylistically, the album’s 11 tracks represent both a continuation of the ruminative sound of See-Through and also an extension into new expressive modes. Few musicians, ambient or otherwise, are as skilled at balancing melody with atmosphere, or at finding ways to eke fresh at finding ways to eke fresh, surprising sounds out of an intentionally reduced toolkit. Meditative, immersive, and emotionally generous Wolf’s Hrafnamynd soundtrack evokes a range of ambient classics from decades past while confidently marking out its own verdant patch of ground.


Artist’s Statement:
Edward and I have been friends for years, but we really started to get to know one another better after I hired him to make music videos for my songs “Woodland Encounter” and “The Culmination Of.” For those projects we got to spend a lot of time hiking in various locations around the Pacific Northwest with his camera, very nice lenses, and tripod. Keeping quiet, hidden, and vigilant we searched for wildlife, good light on the trees, meadows, lakes, rivers, and skies. Edward was already an appreciator of my music and I was already in awe of his filmmaking talents so it felt like a great fit. Although we work in different areas of art our styles compliment one another. We both tend toward slow and careful pacing, with a focus on emotion and introspective reflections on life and the landscapes around us. For this reason, Iknew that I could trust Edward to create videos for my music. We saw so many beautiful and unexpected things on our filming days, but I was moved to tears once I saw how magnificent and poetic it all was. His video work from the cinematography, to the editing, and color correction helped bring my inner vision to life.

A few months after that, Edward surprised me with an invitation to work on the soundtrack for his new film, Hrafnamynd. I enthusiastically said yes. I had always wanted to work on a film, and I knew that his filmmaking style would be inspiring to write music for. I had recently acquired an UDO Super 6 synthesizer but hadn't used it much. I decided that this would be the synth that I'd use for the film. It has the ability to sound very modern, but can also sound so warm and fuzzy, like a synth from the 1970s. It turned out to be the perfect instrument for this project as the film itself straddles time from the ’70s to today.

When Edward sent me the rough cut of the film, he used placeholder music to help give me an idea of the emotion and energy that he was hoping to achieve for each scene. For many of the scenes, Edward used music from my albums as temporary tracks. This told me that he trusted my work and style and therefore I should just trust my intuition with how to proceed. I wanted to make sure that everything that I made was a direct reflection of what was happening on screen, a mirror of its emotion and energy so people could really lock into the film psychologically. This process took my composing to unexpected places—like being led by a strange cat or a raven that seemed to have something to show me. I found that the approach made the music so much more dynamic than my usual style. I really enjoyed being influenced by the action and dialog on the screen. Thankfully, Edward was very happy with the work. I made sure to handle this project with the utmost care because this is about his life and his family, and an exploration of the experiences that made him an artist and filmmaker. While watching the film many times over, I found myself thinking about my own family and my early memories with them and how the place where I grew up has influenced who I have become. I found that his film invites the viewer to reflect on their own lives in a similar way. I hope that this music and film can guide others to contemplate on the history of their beingness and the people and places that shaped them.

Another aspect to this project is the splendor and wonder of Iceland itself. I had the opportunity to visit Iceland for the first time in 2023. I got to play a show there for the Extreme Chill Festival and met many friendly and brilliant Icelanders. I also got to collect field recordings that I used in the film. It's a fascinating place and culture that easily captures the hearts and imaginations of anyone who visits. Whether you spend your time in the city immersed in its impressive arts scene, or venture out into the wilderness to behold its wondrous landscape, it will leave a lasting impression. The soundtrack is also a love letter to Iceland itself.

FOLLOW UP TO THE CRITICALLY ACCLAIMED 2023 ALBUM ‘RPB’ (UTR151):

- #4 MOJO FOLK ALBUMS OF THE YEAR+ FOLK ALBUM OF THE MONTH:
“ IT MELTS TRAD TECHNIQUES AND MINECRAFT BURBLE INTO ‘A MASSIVE, MULTI-PLAYER ONLINE DREAM’ . INCOMPREHENSIBLE/IRRESISTIBLE’

‘ME LOST ME’S RPG (UPSET THE RHYTHM) IS AN EXCITING, IMAGINATIVE ALBUM EXPLORING THE LINKS BETWEEN TRADITIONAL INFLUENCES AND ELECTRONICS IN FERTILE WAYS.’ THE GUARDIAN - FOLK ALBUMS OF THE MONTH.

'FROM NEWCASTLE, VIA UPSET THE RHYTHM, JAYNE DENT EXPLORES FOLK ART AND FUTURISM TO SPELLBINDING EFFECT' THE QUIETUS

FULL PAGE REVIEW IN WIRE MAGAZINE:"ME LOST ME'S NEW ALBUM RPG IS FILLED WITH STORIES OF ADVENTURE AND SELF-DISCOVERY IN VERDANT NATURAL LANDSCAPES, SUNG WITH FEELING AND CLARITY"

Me Lost Me - the project of Newcastle-based artist Jayne Dent - delights in experimenting with songwriting, creating a beguiling mix of soaring vocals and atmospheric electronics that playfully push the boundaries of genre.

On Me Lost Me’s fourth full-length, This Material Moment - arriving on Upset the Rhythm on 27th June - she has created an “emotionally raw” album, her most honest and vulnerable yet.

Concerned with physicality, interpretations, and, yes, materiality, This Material Moment is an album akin to rummaging through a box of long-forgotten trinkets. With each song, Me Lost Me extracts something from the box and asks us to consider it from every angle. "This is an album which uses words as a material, a playful tool for experimentation, full of metaphor, abstraction and analogies.” Jayne says, “it has softness and anger, humour, hope and despair, intensity of feeling in all directions expressed as textures, objects, places."

With the release of This Material Moment Me Lost Me puts into practice the automatic writing techniques she developed during a workshop with Julia Holter, and in the process has spun her music in different directions that draws on poetry, psalms and using mesostic poems and phonetic translations to generate words. “Despite the chance-based writing strategies throughout, it feels like the most emotionally raw album I've ever made,” she says, likening the process to a Rorschah test which revealed things to her she wasn’t expecting to express. “I wanted to hide in stories, but I saw things plainly when I tried to write.” Having finished the writing process, Jayne realised that she had an unexpectedly personal album on her hands, into which her feelings of burnout and overwhelm had crept unconsciously. “Several of the songs for me express a kind of inner conflict, where you’re trying to keep hope and desire and beauty and art near to your heart, to live a meaningful life, but finding that increasingly hard to hold onto in a world that’s so fucked up.”

Whilst Jayne Dent’s music as Me Lost Me has previously presented time stretching back and forwards in opposition (noticeably on 2023’s album RPG), on This Material Moment she does away with linearity altogether, evoking rather than narrating, and presenting feelings, happenings and moods with no clear beginning or end point - “like experiencing a vista, trying to capture a moment that is unfolding all at once”. Instead, each track on This Material Moment exists entirely in media res, adjacent to past and future, and instead sprawling across the endless now.

This Material Moment was written and arranged solo, but played with a core band of John Pope on electric/double bass, Faye MacCalman on clarinet, and now with the addition of Ewan Mackenzie (Dextro/Pigs x7) on drums - bringing in live drums and electric bass for the first time. The album was recorded by Sam Grant at Blank Studios in Newcastle, who also worked on RPG.

There are imagined landscapes we all carry within us—dreamed,
half-remembered, or just beyond reach. Lofoten, the new album by
Cate Francesca Brooks on Clay Pipe Music, is a musical reflection on one such place.
Located above the Arctic Circle, Norway's Lofoten Islands are known for their dramatic peaks, open seascapes, and distinctive red fishing cabins dotting the shoreline. Though Brooks has never visited this remote northern region, it became an unexpected source of inspiration.
The project began when Cate listened to a narrated "sleep story" set in the islands. Intrigued, she researched the region and found herself drawn to its stark beauty."I fell in love with creating an impression of somewhere I would probably never visit, but felt a real affinity with," she explains.
This ambitious album translates that connection into sound. Through carefully crafted electronics, melodic themes, richly layered textures and big production, Brooks captures the essence of Lofoten—its icy light, vast horizons, and profound quiet."The other thing that happened around the same time was the first lockdown here in the UK. I had taken the opportunity of having some extra time to learn a new (to me) method of synthesis; that of the Synclavier, which uses one aluminium wheel and an array of buttons to control every parameter of the sound.
"I took to it with intrigue and before I knew it, I had built up hundreds of original sounds, many of which were perfect for the textures I could hear in my head for Lofoten. So that (along with a Prophet synth and a TR-808) became the sound world." Lofoten stands as an evocative testament to how music can transport us to distant places, transforming geographical limitations into imagined creative possibilities.

Glasgow-based Effective Dreaming—the solo project of Scottish artist and musician Iain Ross—unveils Dream Catalogue Vol. 1, arriving June 21st, 2025 (Summer Solstice) via Swedish experimental label Fluere Tapes.

Issued as a limited run of 50 cassettes, each adorned with hand-worked, corroded copper sheet inserts and labels, Dream Catalogue Vol. 1 feels less like a release and more like an unearthed artefact: weathered, humming, quietly alive. The materials echo the music’s exploration of fragile impermanence and erosion: oxidised metal, magnetic tape, hiss, hum. A tactile world where sound wears its decay like a patina.

Across its length, the album unfolds in a series of flickering vignettes—drifting, dissolving, reappearing. Shaped by synths, environmental recordings, tape loops, and soft drones, the pieces move like glints of light on water—never fixed, always in motion. Achingly beautiful melodies rise and vanish, tracing fragile pathways through a landscape of shifting sensations. Some moments glow with a gentle warmth, like sunlit glass or breath on a fogged mirror. Others slip into shadow: slow, submerged passages feel closer to memory than music. The album feels loose and weightless, yet dense with feeling—a presence more sensed than held.

There is no fixed narrative here—only fragments and artefacts, half-remembered places, echoes of dreams. Each track hovers just at the edge of clarity, evoking not specific stories, but moods, textures, and the quiet drift of time. It’s music that feels both intimate and remote, like overhearing a distant signal only you can understand.

The name Effective Dreaming is drawn from Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Lathe of Heaven, where a dreamer's visions alter the very fabric of reality—past and present reshaped, histories rewritten, unnoticed by all but the dreamer himself. In a similar spirit, Ross’s music inhabits a space where memory, perception, and matter blur—where each sound carries the residue of something once real, now transformed and dissolving as one drifts through the seams of the world.

Dream Catalogue Vol. 1 is a meditation on texture, transience, and the quiet resonance of what slips away.

For listeners of: Wave Temples, Dolphins Into the Future, Guenther Schlienz"

When the trio of Sontag Shogun gathered at Laura Naukkarinen's home on the Finnish island of Kimitoön in the summer of 2019, they had not the slightest inkling that the world was about to change irretrievably with the onset of a long-predicted pandemic the following year. By the time their collaborative album, Valo Siroutuu ("The Light Scatters"), was released nearly two years later, the intimate and reflective nature of the work they had created together had taken on new meaning, resonating powerfully (and quietly) with a world in which the proverbial cracks in the wall only seem to be widening. 



Päiväkahvit completes the story that began with Valo Siroutuu, featuring 9 songs from the original sessions as well as 4 interpretive reworks courtesy of Amulets, Fadi Tabbal, Post-Dukes, and Jeremy Young. Available digitally and in a one-time vinyl pressing of 300 copies, the album flows seamlessly from beginning to end, incorporating field recordings, tape, sublime vocal melodies, and a host of acoustic and electronic instruments. Richly textured and immersive, Päiväkahvit positively crackles with warmth and a sense of creative embrace.



"We invite the listener into the sauna, out to the garden and onto the trampoline, to sit by the water’s edge and to take a coffee in the waning afternoon light, and to stay as long as they like." – Jesse Perlstein

Lau Nau, aka Laura Naukkarinen, is a Finnish composer whose music is imbued with an idiosyncratic, finely honed sound world. Her palette consists of acoustic instruments, singing voice, modular synthesisers, reel-to-reel tape recorders and field recordings. To date Lau Nau has released ten albums on record labels in Europe, the USA and Japan and a large number of collaborative releases. Lau Nau is known for her music to films and multi channel sound installations. She was awarded the Finnish State Prize for the Performing Arts 2021 as a sound designer. She has toured abroad for over 20 years, playing in venues such as Super Deluxe in Tokyo, the Lab & Castro Theatre in San Francisco and Blank Forms & Issue Project Room in New York.

Sontag Shogun is a collaborative trio that makes use of analog sound treatments and nostalgic solo piano compositions in harmony to depict abstract places in our memory. Textures built from organic materials such as sand, slate, boiling water, brush and dried leaves, both produced live in performance and recorded to weathered 1/4" tape warm up the space between lush piano themes. All of which is abstracted coolly in the reflective digital space of treated vocals and a live-processed feed from the piano. Bringing us back, like a faded passing scent or any natural emotive trigger, but to where? The wordless journey there will inevitably be more revealing than the destination itself.


Marconi Union, one of the most influential names in contemporary ambient and electronic music, announce their twelfth studio album, The Fear of Never Landing, set for release 6th June via Just Music. The news is paired with the release of first single Eight Miles High Alone, out 20th March on all major streaming platforms.

Known for their ability to craft cinematic, immersive soundscapes that blur the lines between ambient, electronic, and experimental music, the Manchester-based duo once again push the boundaries of sonic exploration. The Fear of Never Landing takes us on a dynamic journey that’s atmospheric, diaphanous and never short of mesmerising. While the new record is certainly infused with a sense of hope, there’s more than a soupçon of anxiety too, as the title suggests.

A 55-minute odyssey presented as one seamless piece divided into nine movements, they transcribe the nexus of modern living into a mostly wordless odyssey. The album encapsulates Marconi Union’s ability to translate the complexities of the human experience into sound, all while maintaining a stunning sense of cohesion.

While the music feels effortless, the creative process was anything but. During the two years it took to complete the album, members Jamie Crossley and Duncan Meadows faced creative struggles that even led them to briefly question the band’s future. A pivotal moment came when they performed a live soundtrack to the 1975 skateboarding film Downhill Motion, rekindling their connection to atmospheric composition. By testing new material live and returning to their roots, Marconi Union redefined their creative process, leading to some of their most emotionally impactful work to date.

“We’ve always made atmospheric music but we had started to lose that aspect. Other than some rough ideas, we had no sense of what we were doing anymore, a kind of musical wilderness. Eventually a couple of things fell into place, and it was like, ‘Ah, okay.”
With a foundation to build upon, they went back to basics and decided to take their time going forwards. “We tried out a few new tracks live which gave us the opportunity to see what worked and what didn’t. We've never given ourselves that luxury before.”

The first track to be shared, Eight Miles High Alone, is a mesmerizing sequencer-driven track that builds an immersive, atmospheric soundscape. Its hypnotic pulses and intricate layers evoke a sense of solitude and weightlessness, perfectly capturing the album’s blend of tension and introspection. “Eight Miles High Alone was the first piece that we managed to complete and helped to inform our approach to the rest of the album.”

Formed in Manchester in 2003, their debut album, Under Wires and Searchlights (2003), introduced their signature sound, but it was their 2011 release of Weightless that brought international acclaim. Developed in collaboration with a sound therapist, Weightless was scientifically recognised as “the world’s most relaxing song”, praised for its ability to reduce anxiety and heart rates. With over 900 million streams and widespread coverage across media, the track remains a cultural phenomenon.

Over the years, Marconi Union has continued to evolve, producing critically acclaimed albums such as Signals (2021), Ghost Stations (2016), and Tokyo+ (2017). Their work has been hailed for its emotional resonance and sonic depth, with The Quietus noting their ability to find “beauty in the bleakest places” and The Sunday Times describing them as “amongst today’s most talented musicians.”

Beyond their studio albums, Marconi Union has collaborated with visual artists, provided soundtracks for installations, and remixed notable acts like Max Richter and Vök. Their invitation by Brian Eno to perform at Norway’s Punkt Festival further cemented their reputation as innovators in the ambient music sphere.

With The Fear of Never Landing, Marconi Union once again showcases their unmatched ability to create immersive soundscapes that resonate deeply. The album reaffirms their position as masters of atmosphere and emotional storytelling, making it an essential addition to their storied catalog.

Ltd edition Sine TEAL Vinyl, DL card with Bonus Tracks. Vanishing Twin's seminal LP, The Age Of Immunology, receives a LTD edition re-pressing, this version is sine teal vinyl with matching sleeve colour. As essential take on psych-pop futurism and a must for fans of Broadcast, Sun Ra and Ennio Morricone. Establishing the band as innovators in their field, the record was declared "a masterpiece" by The Line Of Best Fit, while The Quietus asserted Vanishing Twin as "one of the most original and exciting acts of the moment". This was the group's first LP for Fire Records, at the time of recording the band's evolving lineup consisted of songwriter, singer and multi-instrumentalist Cathy Lucas, drummer Valentina Magaletti, bassist Susumu Mukai, synth/guitar player Phil MFU and visual artist/film maker Elliott Arndt on flute and percussion. The album was produced by Lucas in a number of non-standard, non-studio settings. 'KRK (At Home In Strange Places)' summons up the spirit of Sun Ra's Lanquidity and Broadcast And The Focus Group Investigate Witch Cults Of The Radio and was simply recorded on an iPhone during a live set which crackled with psychic connectivity on the Croatian island of Krk. The magical Morricone-esque lounge of 'You Are Not an Island', the blissed-out Jean-Claude Vannier style arrangement of 'Invisible World' and burbling sci fi funk ode to a 1972 cult French animation, 'Planete Sauvage', were all recorded in nighttime sessions in an abandoned mill in Sudbury.

For their second album 'The Foel Tower', Quade holed up in an old stone barn in the cradle of a Welsh mountain valley.
The valley was a stark and windswept backdrop with little daylight, as the band would huddle around crackling fires each evening. “There was very much a feeling of being on the complete fringes of society,” the band says. “The last vestiges of settlement before the unrelenting barren moors that loomed over us.”
It was an environment that would shape the band – a Bristol four piece made up of Barney Matthews, Leo Fini, Matt Griffiths and Tom Connolly – and the record they have made. It’s an album that is as dreamy as it is melancholic, and as quiet and tender as it is forceful and potent – gliding across genres like winds blowing over those wide-spanning Welsh hills – to arrive at something the band half-jokingly, yet somewhat accurately, describe as “doomer sad boy, ambient-dub, folk, experimental post-rock.”

Quade is a band but it’s also a very close-knit group that have been friends since childhood who use this musical vehicle for interpersonal explorations and connections. “We’ve individually experienced a lot of difficulty over the last several years and Quade has represented a space to shelter from these,” the band says. “This means we often communicate extensively with each other about the issues affecting us individually and collectively. These conversations and concerns are central to The Foel Tower.”

In many ways, the making of this record – or any Quade record – goes way deeper than the simple writing, construction and recording of music. It is a profoundly deep and meaningful experience. “A key theme of the album relates to why we connect with specific places in the way that we do,” the group says. “We often remove ourselves to isolated valleys, sheltered from some of the painful personal struggles that we have experienced as a band. These become spaces in which we collectively purge ourselves of some of these difficulties hoping to make Quade a physical and emotional place of solace. This album celebrates these places that we’ve been able to retreat to and recuperate.”

It is a deep, dense record that is stuffed with musical, cinematic and literary influences – from Ursula La Guin and Cormac MacCarthy through to RS Thomas and Yeats – but despite the heavy, introspective and anxious nature of some of the material, it is also a record that is remarkably deft, agile and considered.

Made with producer Jack Ogborne and mixer Larry ‘Bruce’ McCarthy, there is a pleasing duality to the final sound of the record. One that feels fragile and intimate but also powerful and forceful, as introspective as it is expansive, and a record that is as detailed and textured as it is wide open and spacious.

The album title also pays homage to the place that shaped it so greatly. Within this remote Welsh valley stands the Foel Tower, a stone structure filled with valves and cylinders that can raise and lower the level of the reservoir to draw off water. Which it can then send as far as 70 miles to Birmingham. However, in the late 1800s this land was occupied by local farmers and families in the hundreds until the British Government acquired the land, cleared the valleys, and promptly displaced them in order to begin serving the vastly expanding industrial English city. The band dug into the history and politics of this and wove it into the themes they were already thinking about, using what the Foel Tower stands for as something of a contemporary metaphor. “This tension was something that we wanted to explore without the haughty judgement of our more metropolitan lifestyles,” they say. “And to explore how this specifically relates to ourselves: how can we envisage a genuinely ecological future for ourselves – one that is accessible, affordable and in harmony with endangered rural practices.”

What makes The Foel Tower such an incredible record is that it feels born of a time, place and situation that only existed in that very moment. It’s a snapshot of those 10 days spent in rural Wales and all the feelings and anxieties the band were experiencing at that specific time, magically caught on tape. “The album very much feels tied to this valley for us and the conversations and experiences we shared there,” they say. “It brings up a great deal of poignancy for us, an emblem of some fleeting respite from the strains we all have to experience. But there’s also deep sadness knowing how transient these moments are – in fact, there’s just a great deal of sadness in this album. But it’s also a record that while personal, resigned, and emotionally burdened, is ultimately hopeful.”

"Every night we've been listening to RATTLE. They have a stark yet deep trance percussion vibe that is both holistic and rocking." Thurston Moore
“Quietly dramatic and loudly intimate.” The Quietus
“Two drum sets. Two voices. One great idea.” MOJO
Rattle are Katharine Eira Brown and Theresa Wrigley, they formed in 2011 after meeting on the live circuit whilst both playing in other bands. Katharine was a guitarist who had recently started playing drums in the band Kogumaza, whilst Theresa was the drummer in Nottingham band Fists. They’ve since released two long-players, 2016’s self-titled debut album Rattle (Upset The Rhythm / I Own You) and 2018’s Sequence (Upset The Rhythm) to much critical acclaim in the music press, and with James Acaster discussing the debut on his BBC Sounds podcast Perfect Sounds!
Rattle have honed the four songs that make up ‘Encircle’ by playing them live over the last few years, adapting and stretching them into endlessly inventive new shapes, playing with the concept of time and expectation. ‘Encircle’ was recorded at Foel Studios, Wales, produced and mixed by Mark Jasper, and mastered at Liminal Audio by Shaun Crook. The stunningly colourful artwork was created by Martha Glazzard, who was also responsible for Rattle’s other mesmeric covers.
‘All Burning’ opens the album, a live favourite of cyclical tumbling and evolving wordplay. ‘All Burning’ was built up gradually layer by layer with Theresa’s cumulative snare work and Katherine’s urgent calls for action: “hold your doctor, hold your daughter, hold your horses”. If ‘All Burning’ represents fire, then it’s accompanying 12-minute long track on Side 1, ‘Argot’, is informed by the air. ‘Argot’ is a song about uncertainty, with Katherine singing wordlessly across the majority of the track. “I prefer to sing wordlessly often because it feels a bit more expressive and universal” asserts Katherine. The track feels truly epic with a satisfying release that comes with the eventual introduction of the bass drum and snappy hi-hat section.

Side 2 also pairs a shorter song with a long-form composition. ‘Ritual’ is worked up from a simple snare drum pattern which becomes more and more overlapped into an elliptical form of waltz. Katherine considers ‘Ritual’ as “very earthy song - lots of low lying mist on the ground swirling around and the drums coming together to summon something”! ‘Ritual’ was inspired by a visit to the ruins of Boleskine House so multi-dimensional themes and occult practice loom large. ‘Your Move’ is a step-up gear change with the band wanting it to feel like the tape had suddenly started to spin faster, urging movement, venturing action. Clocking in at over 15 minutes, ‘Your Move’, is mesmeric and boundless, hypnotic in its minimalism of doubled-drums and almost tribal vocal cycles.
With ‘Encircle’ Rattle have grown again, these songs are alive with elemental power. They build-up and disintegrate, existing in two places at once, embracing the nuance, tracing the circle’s edge. These are modes of song as pure gesture and eternal imagination, refined in mirrors after midnight.
Rattle has performed at The Barbican, London and toured the UK with Animal Collective and Thurston Moore Group and Europe with The Julie Ruin and Protomartyr, and performed with Hot Snakes, Bill Orcutt Quartetand Codeine.

"Every night we've been listening to RATTLE. They have a stark yet deep trance percussion vibe that is both holistic and rocking." Thurston Moore
“Quietly dramatic and loudly intimate.” The Quietus
“Two drum sets. Two voices. One great idea.” MOJO
Rattle are Katharine Eira Brown and Theresa Wrigley, they formed in 2011 after meeting on the live circuit whilst both playing in other bands. Katharine was a guitarist who had recently started playing drums in the band Kogumaza, whilst Theresa was the drummer in Nottingham band Fists. They’ve since released two long-players, 2016’s self-titled debut album Rattle (Upset The Rhythm / I Own You) and 2018’s Sequence (Upset The Rhythm) to much critical acclaim in the music press, and with James Acaster discussing the debut on his BBC Sounds podcast Perfect Sounds!
Rattle have honed the four songs that make up ‘Encircle’ by playing them live over the last few years, adapting and stretching them into endlessly inventive new shapes, playing with the concept of time and expectation. ‘Encircle’ was recorded at Foel Studios, Wales, produced and mixed by Mark Jasper, and mastered at Liminal Audio by Shaun Crook. The stunningly colourful artwork was created by Martha Glazzard, who was also responsible for Rattle’s other mesmeric covers.
‘All Burning’ opens the album, a live favourite of cyclical tumbling and evolving wordplay. ‘All Burning’ was built up gradually layer by layer with Theresa’s cumulative snare work and Katherine’s urgent calls for action: “hold your doctor, hold your daughter, hold your horses”. If ‘All Burning’ represents fire, then it’s accompanying 12-minute long track on Side 1, ‘Argot’, is informed by the air. ‘Argot’ is a song about uncertainty, with Katherine singing wordlessly across the majority of the track. “I prefer to sing wordlessly often because it feels a bit more expressive and universal” asserts Katherine. The track feels truly epic with a satisfying release that comes with the eventual introduction of the bass drum and snappy hi-hat section.

Side 2 also pairs a shorter song with a long-form composition. ‘Ritual’ is worked up from a simple snare drum pattern which becomes more and more overlapped into an elliptical form of waltz. Katherine considers ‘Ritual’ as “very earthy song - lots of low lying mist on the ground swirling around and the drums coming together to summon something”! ‘Ritual’ was inspired by a visit to the ruins of Boleskine House so multi-dimensional themes and occult practice loom large. ‘Your Move’ is a step-up gear change with the band wanting it to feel like the tape had suddenly started to spin faster, urging movement, venturing action. Clocking in at over 15 minutes, ‘Your Move’, is mesmeric and boundless, hypnotic in its minimalism of doubled-drums and almost tribal vocal cycles.
With ‘Encircle’ Rattle have grown again, these songs are alive with elemental power. They build-up and disintegrate, existing in two places at once, embracing the nuance, tracing the circle’s edge. These are modes of song as pure gesture and eternal imagination, refined in mirrors after midnight.
Rattle has performed at The Barbican, London and toured the UK with Animal Collective and Thurston Moore Group and Europe with The Julie Ruin and Protomartyr, and performed with Hot Snakes, Bill Orcutt Quartetand Codeine.

Album features and was co-produced by Joseph Shabason. String arrangements by Owen Pallett. Thom Gill has written songs for Chaka Khan, in addition to contributing to albums by The Mountain Goats, Owen Pallett, Joseph Shabason, Bernice, and many others. Way Through is a collaborative album by Toronto musicians Chris Cummings, Joseph Shabason, and Thom Gill (as Cici Arthur). Inspired by moments of discovery in familiar places, the album's title reflects the feeling of uncovering hidden paths in life. Musically, it blends mid-century influences like Jobim and Sinatra, with producer-instrumentalists Shabason and Gill crafting lush, expansive soundscapes. Featuring a 30-piece orchestra led by Owen Pallett, the album brings a grand scale to Cummings' intimate, reflective lyrics. The project began in 2020 when Cummings lost his job and turned to full-time music for the first time in his life. His collaborators tailored the arrangements to showcase his understated vocal delivery against sweeping orchestral backdrops. Songs like 'Cartwheels for Coins' and 'Prior Times' explore themes of regret and emotional complexity, contrasting the grandeur of the music with Cummings' quiet introspection. Tracks like 'Damaged Goods' provide upbeat moments with doo-wop harmonies, while the cinematic closer 'No Fight Or Flight' emphasizes the filmic quality of the album. Through its orchestral richness and deeply personal lyrics, Way Through captures the tension between ambition and realism, offering a poignant reflection on life's unpredictable journey

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

The Durutti Column, Linda Perhacs, Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Judee Sill. Hello and welcome to Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking, the new record by Lina Tullgren. It is a deeply gorgeous intervention, a carefully ornamented dilemma, the most inviting crisis. Made with a host of Los Angeles musicians, Decide exposes Tullgren's daring and trust. Each song is a ring of curious sound: the skip of harp strings, the flutter of woodwinds, the ratchet of percussion, the euphonium's sigh. And at the center of each wreath, Tullgren sings, finding this space between Judee Sill and Sam Jayne. It's a tone that signals weariness, but a weariness hand-in-hand with tenacity. There's a clarity, a kind of immovability. Lina Tullgren's first record came in 2016, a homemade, under-the-skin set of laments. Subsequent LPs and constant touring cemented Tullgren's reputation as a composer of "wide-eyed wonder paired with a resonant despair." 2019's Free Cell showed Tullgren lingering in the margins of their songs, finding places both aloof and spare. Floodgates opened; Tullgren spent the subsequent years exploring deep listening, improvised music, and extended technique. They developed a patience and faith in cooperation that ranged at the far edge of song. Collaborations with Mayo Thompson and Claire Rousay furthered this development. This was not a break with the past for Tullgren, rather it was an opportunity to see how far a song could go. And from that distance, deep in a landscape of drone and tension, Tullgren returned to the bright vulnerability of a lyric and a hook. Weaving together the affective and the radical, Tullgren took the quiet isolation of a shoreline cabin to write the songs that would become Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking. For Tullgren, Decide is a culmination of all the work they've done throughout their life: the melodic, the dense, the confessional, the unknowable. It's also a tribute to collaboration. Describing the sessions as having "a lot of space and a lot of ease,"" Tullgren invited musicians from a vast field of songmaking to play on the recording: Leng Bian, Zach Burba, Luke Csehak, Corey Fogel, Jenny Hirons, Tara Milch, Tim Ramsey, Michael Sachs, Jude Tedaldi, Marta Tiesenga and Ben Varian. Jonny Kosmo's backhouse was offered as a cozy, easygoing space for the players to create their parts together, and the record was completed by Tullgren and Luke Csehak together at their Los Angeles home. In Tullgren's words: "I feel really strongly that this album is a portrait of the community I found in Los Angeles." Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking is a quiet masterpiece: a generous, memorable journey. It is the result of five years of labor, the product of abandoning the pop song entirely and starting over. Whatever wanderings or doubt fueled it, Decide is also entirely at ease: a record on which Tullgren sings "and I know/what to do now" and "I know exactly what to do" in subsequent songs, clear in the revelations this path has given the

The Holiday Album That Turned Mariah Carey into the Queen of Christmas: Featuring the Standard “All I Want for Christmas Is You,” the Singer’s Blockbuster Merry Christmas Exudes Joy, Spirituality, and Conviction
Sourced from the Original Master Tapes, Presented in Audiophile Sound for the First Time, and Strictly Limited to 3,000 Numbered Copies:

Mobile Fidelity’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 33RPM LP Set Plays with Superb Detail, Openness, and Definition
1/2" / 30 IPS / Dolby SR analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Mariah Carey didn’t become the Queen of Christmas just because of her fervent love of the holiday. Or as the result of a brilliant marketing plan. The iconic singer earned her title by way of her blockbuster Merry Christmas, a 1994 album that quickly joined the likes of Bing Crosby’s White Christmas, A Jolly Christmas from Frank Sinatra, and Nat King Cole’s The Christmas Song as an all-time holiday vocal classic. Featuring a balanced mix of inspired originals and well-chosen covers, Carey’s fourth studio record has only grown in stature as new generations discover its magic. Mobile Fidelity’s 30th anniversary edition reissue of Merry Christmas makes her spellbinding performances and upper-tier register come alive like never before.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, the pioneering label’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 33RPM LP set of Merry Christmas plays with superb detail, depth, and dimensionality. Available in audiophile quality for the first time since its original release three decades ago, and featuring the bonus track “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen,” the nine-times-platinum set breathes with a newfound openness and transparency that enhance the spirituality, passion, and festive tenor of Carey’s singing.

Benefitting from superb groove definition, a nearly inaudible noise floor, and dead-quiet vinyl surfaces, the music takes on a heightened energy and anticipatory emotion synonymous with the holiday season. Carey’s signature vocals explode with liveliness and dynamics, the full scope of her acrobatic range presented in clear, transparent sound that practically places her on a small stage in your listening room. This collectible version also breathes with the kind of warmth, intimacy, and coziness you want from a landmark vocal album.

Recorded when Carey helped put “diva” back into everyone’s vocabulary, Merry Christmas gave the New York native another smash right out of the box. What nobody knew at the time was the degree of the album’s staying power — and how, many years removed from its initial promotion cycle, its legend would still grow and even spark a 2010 sequel. Having re-entered the Top 200 charts every year since 2019, Merry Christmas ranks as one of the three most commercially successful holiday LPs ever made and, in due time, will likely earn the top distinction in that class. A global blockbuster, it seamlessly ties together Christian, gospel, and secular threads and speaks to a boundless audience, independent of denomination.

Most obviously, the record remains inescapably connected to “All I Want for Christmas Is You,” an uptempo anthem that towers as a holiday standard and one of the biggest-selling singles in history. Punctuated with celesta chimes, sleigh bells, springy keyboards, and joyous beats, the song echoes the simple albeit engaging melodies and doo-wop style of beloved holiday classics of yore — and blends such elements with contagious dance-pop rhythms to create an atmosphere rich in joy, wonder, and excitement. Radiant with golden soulfulness and sincere conviction, Carey’s exuberant singing and on-point phrasing put it all over the top. And how.

The song stands as the only effort in Billboard history to top the Hot 100 chart during at least three separate runs. Carey’s blockbuster has already hit No. 1 during five runs, spanning every year between 2019 and 2024. That’s just one of the many records the singer holds — and only one of the multiple highlights from Merry Christmas, which includes two other Carey-penned originals, “Miss You Most (At Christmas Time)” and “Jesus Born on This Day.”

Though slightly lesser known, Carey’s remarkable rendition of Darlene Love’s “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” further links her album with the big, lush, Wall of Sound heritage that helped inspire its production. Carey’s heartfelt take and transformation of the traditional “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” into an animated tune that even adults can believe, as well as her clairon reading of “Joy to the World” — cleverly augmented with bits of Three Dog Night’s 1971 hit of the same name — further reinforce her status as Queen of Christmas.

At the peak of her powers, Carey finds equivalent success when tapping more spiritual veins. Witness the reverence she brings to the timeless carol “Silent Night,” the piousness she invests in “Jesus Oh What a Wonderful Child,” and the sacred feeling she conveys throughout “O Holy Night.” You’ll also never think of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” and “Gloria (In Excelsis Deo)” the same way again after hearing Mimi pour her heart and soul into them, and pair the songs together.

Indeed, it’s Carey’s pliable voice, melismatic technique, and five-octave range — on display here in definitive fashion — coupled with her undeniable love for Christmas and understanding of the religious significance of the season that make Merry Christmas a must-have holiday staple. And on Mobile Fidelity’s LP, something you better add to your wish list.

High Hopes - New album from the Mole.
High Hopes is 17 songs across 40 minutes on one slice of wax that, as advertised, sounds nothing like last month’s Ep, High Dreams. Here, rather than the long form dance form, is a continuation of the beat tape pacing from the last album, a collection of moments posing as ideas posing as a narrative stuffed with oddities and surprises that reward the close listen.
What’s heard on High Hopes is the Mole’s exploration of a love letter, from one person to a family, from the northern Pacific to the southern Atlantic, from a boy to a painted bird. Vancouver Island to Manantiales. The songs range from ambient sound bath and hip hop sludge, up to micro boogie and almost House before tumbling back down and forth again. Bubbling synths, MPCs swung out, samples chopped and chewed, bass and violins from Rick and Sophie, field recordings of birds and frogs and beaches, friends and family and fiestas. Did we mention the love ?! This album has got it all! Original collages from Antonio Carrau envelope this wax: jacket, sleeve and cookie. Antonio’s work is typified by playful combinations and bold statements about living in a embrace of analog and digital health. His co lages marry the corporeal world with an updated, digitalized age of reproduction, inducing feelings of gratitude for the simple everyday scenes we sometimes lose touch with when we forget to slow down. Good living, like breathing, requires inhaling as well as exhaling.
We can’t always produce content, make art, we must also pause, and listen. And enjoy. The Mole is joined by friends and colleagues on several songs included on High Hopes. Rick May plays bass on both Que Rico and album stand out GoinF4er. Sophie Trudeau (Godspeed You Black Emperor) plays and arranges violins on GoinF4er and Danuel Tate (Cobblestone Jazz) and Julz Chaz (Wagon Repair) both play Vibes and Emaxx throughout the album. Working with these incredible talents not only enriched this album, but fulfilled a long standing goal of the Mole’s; to work again with the musicians from whom he learned so much. People who helped inform the shape of Mole to come.
The Mole who was As High As The Sky. The Mole has been ‘recognized’ by the ‘global underground’ since his critically celebrated premiere album, As High As The Sky, but his earlier Eps (Wagon Repair, Philpot, Musique Risquee) got the attention of Top DJs, clubs, and festivals around the world first. His sound remains unique, fresh and deep: enjoying plays in a wide variety of spaces and places.
High Hopes is the Mole’s 5th solo album and his 2nd album for Circus Company (The River Widens) who have also proudly released two eps of Mole magic (Little Sunshine, High Dreams).
*Isn’t that too much time for one record? Short answer - No. Long answer - depends on the material. Due to the many quiet passages in the album, the groove spacing can be modulated and the needle can slow it’s progress towards the center/end resulting in longer sides with continued high gain and low distortion.

High Hopes - New album from the Mole.
High Hopes is 17 songs across 40 minutes on one slice of wax that, as advertised, sounds nothing like last month’s Ep, High Dreams. Here, rather than the long form dance form, is a continuation of the beat tape pacing from the last album, a collection of moments posing as ideas posing as a narrative stuffed with oddities and surprises that reward the close listen.
What’s heard on High Hopes is the Mole’s exploration of a love letter, from one person to a family, from the northern Pacific to the southern Atlantic, from a boy to a painted bird. Vancouver Island to Manantiales. The songs range from ambient sound bath and hip hop sludge, up to micro boogie and almost House before tumbling back down and forth again. Bubbling synths, MPCs swung out, samples chopped and chewed, bass and violins from Rick and Sophie, field recordings of birds and frogs and beaches, friends and family and fiestas. Did we mention the love ?! This album has got it all! Original collages from Antonio Carrau envelope this wax: jacket, sleeve and cookie. Antonio’s work is typified by playful combinations and bold statements about living in a embrace of analog and digital health. His co lages marry the corporeal world with an updated, digitalized age of reproduction, inducing feelings of gratitude for the simple everyday scenes we sometimes lose touch with when we forget to slow down. Good living, like breathing, requires inhaling as well as exhaling.
We can’t always produce content, make art, we must also pause, and listen. And enjoy. The Mole is joined by friends and colleagues on several songs included on High Hopes. Rick May plays bass on both Que Rico and album stand out GoinF4er. Sophie Trudeau (Godspeed You Black Emperor) plays and arranges violins on GoinF4er and Danuel Tate (Cobblestone Jazz) and Julz Chaz (Wagon Repair) both play Vibes and Emaxx throughout the album. Working with these incredible talents not only enriched this album, but fulfilled a long standing goal of the Mole’s; to work again with the musicians from whom he learned so much. People who helped inform the shape of Mole to come.
The Mole who was As High As The Sky. The Mole has been ‘recognized’ by the ‘global underground’ since his critically celebrated premiere album, As High As The Sky, but his earlier Eps (Wagon Repair, Philpot, Musique Risquee) got the attention of Top DJs, clubs, and festivals around the world first. His sound remains unique, fresh and deep: enjoying plays in a wide variety of spaces and places.
High Hopes is the Mole’s 5th solo album and his 2nd album for Circus Company (The River Widens) who have also proudly released two eps of Mole magic (Little Sunshine, High Dreams).
*Isn’t that too much time for one record? Short answer - No. Long answer - depends on the material. Due to the many quiet passages in the album, the groove spacing can be modulated and the needle can slow it’s progress towards the center/end resulting in longer sides with continued high gain and low distortion.

On alene et, Michaela Turcerová, a Copenhagen-based, Slovakia born musician, takes minutiae — the tiniest scrapes and breathiest hums — and distorts them into sprawling, collaged webs that barely resemble the instrument in its natural state. Each shard, when pieced together, makes a rhythmic, undulating sound born from the subtlest motions.

Alene et marks Turcerová’s debut as a soloist, putting a spotlight on the exploratory approach she has developed on her own and across a variety of collaborations. She has long studied the quiet excavation of her instrument, pulling it apart to find a new vocabulary. To develop this language, she unearths shards of sound from the instrument, muting it or bringing out its scratchiness and grittiness. Primarily working with open-ended scores and improvisation, she is inspired by various percussive music, looking to deep sonic awareness to guide her. As a soloist, her music harkens to the abstracted electronics present across the Editions Mego catalog or the distorted ruminations of Nyege Nyege tapes. And no matter where she goes, she is constantly in the pursuit of the unknown — the hidden elements of music that come to life through experimentation and listening.

With alene et, Turcerová presents her singular language on the saxophone to the fullest. To make this music, she placed many microphones close to her instrument, zeroing in to each sound and examining it from multiple different angles. She emphasizes the percussive possibilities of her instrument, puzzle-piecing each note into pulsating webs. Each track highlights a different side of the saxophone — the bristling distortion and amplification of a column of air as it blows through her saxophone’s body, the trickling tapping of the keys as she places her fingers onto them.

At its core, alene et presents Turcerová’s curiosity. The saxophone lives many different lives within her hands, shapeshifting through the uncovering of its possibilities. She shows us how the instrument is an ever-changing entity, a distorted and blown out drone with a thousand shards poking out from inside of it. But more than just a showcase of an individual instrument, alene et feels like a statement of the act of exploration. Turcerová is an excavator, always looking for new worlds hidden within her saxophone, and leaving room for more to come alive with each listen.

Flame is Slow collects together three acclaimed seven-inch EPs (originally released on the Noisebox label in 1996 and 1997) by the mysterious, mercurial Navigator. The post-Loveless UK underground of the early 1990s was a vibrant place, despite what music biographies may tell you. What might now be lumped together as “post-rock” was in fact a varied and forward-thinking group of artists creating inquisitive music in the wake of the grunge goldrush. Contemporaries such as Hood, Flying Saucer Attack, Movietone and – of course – Mogwai and Arab Strap are rightfully seen as timeless nearly thirty years on but they’re really just the tip of the iceberg. Navigator might get mentioned less but their story is every bit as intriguing as any of their peers. Navigator formed in Norwich in 1994. Their music was consistently introspective and melancholic, but their brief existence of five years saw them move rapidly from traditional song structures towards noise, found sound, free improvisation, electronics, primitive instrument building and – ultimately - silence. They were an enigma back then and they remain so now. They released four seven inches before a solitary album Nostalgie (1997, Swarf Finger Records). Each release felt different to the last but always intimate and peculiar. Their use of sound and space is nothing short of magical. Rough and unsettling textures rub against each other, selected and mixed instinctively. Another band’s discarded mistake becomes a key element in their hands. The band received much acclaim and some genuine commercial success when single When the Wires Fall ended up in the indie charts. They shared stages with Low, David Thomas, Aerial M, Stars Of The Lid and Labradford and toured with Mogwai and Arab Strap culminating in the now-notorious, equipment-levelling performance at The Garage in London. The original version of the group played live for the last time in 1999 before quietly disappearing. It was perhaps inevitable that a band so committed to exploring and refining their sound should end by removing themselves from it entirely. Aside from a brief (and excellent) reformation in 2006 and a CDR compilation of those early seven inches, Navigator have been quiet for over 20 years until now. Flame is Slow assembles the blue, red and green Noisebox EPs into one cohesive album-length collection, remastered with care and reassembled by the band. It rightfully places Navigator where they belong – as one of the most curious, adventurous, and beautiful groups this island has ever produced. “Whenever I think of bands that more people should’ve heard than did, I always think about Navigator. It’s great that the music they made is going to be available again as it is truly special and deserves to be heard by more people” – Stuart Braithwaite

The Well is the second album by the duo So Sner, composed of Susanna Gartmayer (bass clarinet) and Stefan Schneider (electronics). Recorded over nearly two years in various studios and spaces, the album reflects So Sner's extensive touring across Europe. The final mixing took place in Vienna at the studio of Martin Siewert, who served as both co-producer and mastering engineer. Known for his meticulous attention to sonic detail, Siewert brings his unique techniques and distinctive sound enhancements to the album, resulting in a work that is both stylistically cohesive and daringly uncompromising.

So Sner’s critically acclaimed debut album REIME (TAL26, 2021) was celebrated for its innovative fusion of bass clarinet and electronic sounds in unexpected and surprising ways. With The Well, the duo explores both fluid and dissonant sonic landscapes, embracing different structural and sonic challenges. The result is a quieter, more introspective set of compositions than many might have anticipated. The album is a statement of two confident collaborators crafting complex, spatial musical moments in their own distinct manner.

The music on The Well generates a multiplicity of effects that transcend conventional oppositions such as hand-played versus programmed, composition versus improvisation, or analog versus digital. The album suggests a re-articulation of these categories, allowing the ten tracks to gradually blend one musical idea into another, and one musician into another, in a circular and complementary fashion. The polymetric permutations and exploratory reed components create a soundscape where all elements coexist harmoniously, without compromising or diminishing each other’s presence.

With its sparse sound architecture, The Well invites listeners into a space of effective emptiness, offering room for the mind and body to explore—a sonic island where one can develop sensuality through patient movement.

For So Sner, live performance is a passion of the mind, and since they began working together in 2020, their music has taken them to many different places. The live experience has deeply influenced the recorded music on this album, with the interplay between live performance and studio work informing their creative process. The Well captures the genuine act of exploring new territories, serving as a storage place for the time and space shared by the duo, re-filtering their experiences of performing and traveling together.

The Well is a lucidly playful and ambitious album by two contemporary musicians who are continually learning to create and respond to the subtle and significant changes in their music, maintaining momentum throughout the entire work.

In addition to her work with So Sner, Susanna Gartmayer has recently collaborated with artists such as Joe McPhee and Maria Portugal, and remains a member of her long-running band, the Vegetable Orchestra. Stefan Schneider, founder of the label TAL, has recently performed with Garth Erasmus from Cape Town and fine art luminary Katharina Grosse.

‘What makes Sex Swing so powerful is that they transcend the limitations of rock music. Their sound is so full of possibilities, violence, sexuality, sacrifice, even religion. If there was a future to look forward to for heavy guitar music, this is it’ The Quietus The locals call it Sop Ruak – eighty thousand square miles of mountains and mystery and unholy medicine. “It really is an endless seam of activity,” Sex Swing frontman Dan Chandler explains of Golden Triangle – both the title of their new album and the region between Myanmar, Thailand and Laos that inspired it. To know this contradictory corner of the world is to understand fully why the cult-beloved noise-rock artisans turned to it when writing their hotly-anticipated third full-length. The real-life Golden Triangle is a groundswell of both natural wonder and drug production, and who combines beauty and narcotic brutality better than Sex Swing? For a decade now, this
collective of revered UK underground musicians, comprising members of Earth, Mugstar, The Keep and Jaaw, have been pulling audiences into drug- like slipstreams with their alchemy of pummelling rhythms, towering guitars, and unrelenting saxophone through which glimmers of light occasionally pierce through. No wonder their Golden Triangle is an album telling distortion-shrouded tales from one of the most storied, enigmatic places on the planet, with enough invention within to fill eighty thousand miles and more.
Where does this violent, hypnotic aural travelogue take you within the Sop Ruak? The seven tracks that make up The Golden Triangle see the band – completed by bassist Jason Stoll, drummer Stuart Bell, guitarist Jodie Cox, synthesist/guitarist Oli Knowles and saxophonist Colin Webster – adventure first to ‘The Confluence of the Ruak and Mekong Rivers,’ full of shimmering orchestration and feather-light ambience. Then come stops in ‘Myawaddy’, named after a small town embroiled in bloodshed on the border of Myanmar
and Thailand, and ‘Boten, Route 13’ – sparked by stories of a seemingly endless stretch of road from Laos into China. Before long, listeners are plunged into ‘Hpakant’, one of the album’s most invigorating and singular moments, lyrically inspired by a jade mine in Myanmar, where the spoils of forced labour are exchanged for prostitution and methanphetamine. The result is a mesmerising slow-burn of sax, snaking rhythms and sinister spoken word courtesy of the Scottish-born Bruce McClure, who “took the theme and turned it into a sci-fi story of exploitation and vice,” explains the frontman. It’s a track that, like the rest of Golden Triangle, underlines the evolution Sex Swing have undertaken since forming in 2014. From the raw and primitive sounds of the self-titled debut full-length, followed up by the coruscatingType II in 2020. Sex Swing’s third effort retains those early primitive elements and adds layers of structure and complexity. Golden Triangle initial formation was that of programmed beats and bedroom recordings shared electronically in the height of the pandemic. Those ideas were then completed during intensive writing sessions at a secluded farm in Oxfordshire.
Album credits consist of recording by Stanley Gravett at Holy Mountain Studios in Hackney, mixing by Wayne Adams at Bear Bites Horse, mastering from James Plotkin, and the continued aesthetic collaboration with artist Alex Bunn. Golden Triangle bristles with a rawness familiar to fans of the British sonic punishers, but adds new elements indicative of a group never resting on their laurels or sitting in one place. Why would they, after all? There’s an entire world of mountains and mystery and unholy medicine out there to be explored. The Golden Triangle, it seems, is just the beginning.

‘What makes Sex Swing so powerful is that they transcend the limitations of rock music. Their sound is so full of possibilities, violence, sexuality, sacrifice, even religion. If there was a future to look forward to for heavy guitar music, this is it’ The Quietus The locals call it Sop Ruak – eighty thousand square miles of mountains and mystery and unholy medicine. “It really is an endless seam of activity,” Sex Swing frontman Dan Chandler explains of Golden Triangle – both the title of their new album and the region between Myanmar, Thailand and Laos that inspired it. To know this contradictory corner of the world is to understand fully why the cult-beloved noise-rock artisans turned to it when writing their hotly-anticipated third full-length. The real-life Golden Triangle is a groundswell of both natural wonder and drug production, and who combines beauty and narcotic brutality better than Sex Swing? For a decade now, this
collective of revered UK underground musicians, comprising members of Earth, Mugstar, The Keep and Jaaw, have been pulling audiences into drug- like slipstreams with their alchemy of pummelling rhythms, towering guitars, and unrelenting saxophone through which glimmers of light occasionally pierce through. No wonder their Golden Triangle is an album telling distortion-shrouded tales from one of the most storied, enigmatic places on the planet, with enough invention within to fill eighty thousand miles and more.
Where does this violent, hypnotic aural travelogue take you within the Sop Ruak? The seven tracks that make up The Golden Triangle see the band – completed by bassist Jason Stoll, drummer Stuart Bell, guitarist Jodie Cox, synthesist/guitarist Oli Knowles and saxophonist Colin Webster – adventure first to ‘The Confluence of the Ruak and Mekong Rivers,’ full of shimmering orchestration and feather-light ambience. Then come stops in ‘Myawaddy’, named after a small town embroiled in bloodshed on the border of Myanmar
and Thailand, and ‘Boten, Route 13’ – sparked by stories of a seemingly endless stretch of road from Laos into China. Before long, listeners are plunged into ‘Hpakant’, one of the album’s most invigorating and singular moments, lyrically inspired by a jade mine in Myanmar, where the spoils of forced labour are exchanged for prostitution and methanphetamine. The result is a mesmerising slow-burn of sax, snaking rhythms and sinister spoken word courtesy of the Scottish-born Bruce McClure, who “took the theme and turned it into a sci-fi story of exploitation and vice,” explains the frontman. It’s a track that, like the rest of Golden Triangle, underlines the evolution Sex Swing have undertaken since forming in 2014. From the raw and primitive sounds of the self-titled debut full-length, followed up by the coruscatingType II in 2020. Sex Swing’s third effort retains those early primitive elements and adds layers of structure and complexity. Golden Triangle initial formation was that of programmed beats and bedroom recordings shared electronically in the height of the pandemic. Those ideas were then completed during intensive writing sessions at a secluded farm in Oxfordshire.
Album credits consist of recording by Stanley Gravett at Holy Mountain Studios in Hackney, mixing by Wayne Adams at Bear Bites Horse, mastering from James Plotkin, and the continued aesthetic collaboration with artist Alex Bunn. Golden Triangle bristles with a rawness familiar to fans of the British sonic punishers, but adds new elements indicative of a group never resting on their laurels or sitting in one place. Why would they, after all? There’s an entire world of mountains and mystery and unholy medicine out there to be explored. The Golden Triangle, it seems, is just the beginning.

"Mountain Music is Nina Nesbitt as fans have never heard her before. Having risen to fame at a young age with her disarming, candid pop – the Scottish musician is now found in an entirely new realm. It is inspired in part by the two years she spent touring the States in support of her second studio album: the critically acclaimed Top 40, The Sun Will Come Up, The Seasons Will Change, which has now accrued over a billion streams. These songs are permeated with gorgeous nods to US folk and Americana. It’s made all the more extraordinary by the face that, not long ago, Nesbitt was considering quitting music altogether. Produced by Peter Miles and Nesbitt, mixed and mastered by Miles at his stunning studio MiddleFarm in south Devon, and released via her own label, Apple Tree Records. A playful nod to her 2012 debut EP, TheApple Tree, this marks the start of an exciting new era for Nina Nesbitt. While it might sound strange that Nesbitt was drawn to the music of Appalachia, heard echoing through the vast, verdant mountain ranges of the eastern United States, it makes more sense when you consider how traditional Scottish ballads and hymns are threads in that rich tapestry.

Empathy is one of Nesbitt’s greatest strengths. We hear it on “Painkiller”, a Joni Mitchell-indebted ballad on which her heart breaks for the men who believe they have to suppress their own feelings. One of the album’s standout qualities is, perhaps, the dynamic that Nesbitt creates from one song to the next. Where many folk artists might lean into quiet introspection, she craves the full spectrum of emotion – so ensconced around “Painkiller” you have the tender “On the Run’, with its distant shivers of percussion and crystalline piano, but also “Anger”. She’s in a nostalgic mood on the rousing “Coming Home”, a Springsteen-inspired, driving-with-the-top-down journey back to the places and people she loves. We all lose ourselves sometimes. The trick is learning how to find our way back, pushing those clouds away to see the blue skies beyond. For artist Nina Nesbitt, hard-hitting truths and revelations take precedent on her remarkable, career-best album, Mountain Music. Nesbitt knows exactly who she is, and now, she’s ready to tell the world."

The unconscious and unknown must be really nice places. In any case, if you take the second album of Menelaos Tomasides under his given name as travelogue. A trip into dreamlike territory, yet concrete enough, a journey without target yet looking forward and looking back into familiar places, „dreamhike“ both continues and departs from the style Menelaos has found earlier, in “When the Moon Comes Through”, or his more conceptual-intentional “31 Minuten” works. As the album title - which roughly translates to “dream hiking” but also hints on “walkabout” and “songlines” – suggests, we are rambling between the real and the imaginary. From the bucolic border triangle of Belgium, Germany, and the Netherlands to the buzzing streets of the capital of Cyprus, where Menelaos has lived for many years, the tracks are about real places, about real experiences and emotions yet interwoven with a dreamlike fabric. Something that is just not tangible, yet substantial and palpable. Something concrete that manifests in the genuine and special sound design of this records - basically all of Menelaos’ works - his really special treatment of dynamics and loudness. It is one of the very few records where the established language of music making, specifically Techno, House, Dub, and early 2000’ Electronica, the clicks, thumps and plops from an earlier age of electronic music, transmogrify into slow movements of something new. Something that is gentle and truly personal, looking inwards. There are four-to-the-floor beats, there is wobbly bass, and dubby chords, even sublimated clarion calls. There is an immense energy in these tracks, the sheer materiality of low frequencies of a massive sound system manifested in a tiny room. Yet it is without any aggression, stripped bare of sonic pressure. It is quiet music no matter how high you turn up the volume. A rare treat, that requires exceptional skills and exceptional restraint and control on the technical side of music making. Probably it is a result of Menelaos specific combination of instinctual, intuitive approach to making music, which meets a genuine love for sound in seemingly endless loops of refinement that can lead to such a result as „dreamhike“. The elegant floating balance of control and playful experimentation manifests for example in a track that continues the ongoing collaboration with seasoned Cologne improviser Achim Fink on bass trumpet. Not only in this respect, the album can be described as a product of openness. It comes from a lot of taking in the world, of travel, of places and people met, of friendship and conversation (not necessarily with words). The deep trip of “dreamhike” further manifests Menelaos as one of the truly independent voices of electronic Cologne and beyond. Somewhat alike in character and attitude probably to what late Pete Namlook has established for Frankfurt with his label Fax +49-69/450464 (though ultimately warmer and much less uncanny) Menelaos has found his very own sound and vision. Music that answers to no one but speaks to everyone. Uncompromising yet gentle to the core: kind sounds from a kind spirit, arguably the most extraordinary and valuable quality music can have these days.

How do you follow up a work described in the Independent on Sunday as “the best debut album since Marquee Moon”? That’s the question facing singer-songwriter John Canning Yates, twenty years on from the critically acclaimed ‘The First Album’ by his band Ella Guru.
‘The Quiet Portraits’ will appeal to anyone who loves the beautiful melodic soundscapes woven by Brian Wilson, Burt Bacharach, and Tom Waits, while Yates’s unique vocals evoke the emotional fragility and compelling narrative of Neil Young, Paul Buchanan, Mark Linkous and Elliott Smith.
Mastered by Jason Mitchell (PJ Harvey, Robert Forster), and featuring guest contributions from pedal steel maestro BJ Cole and friend and multi-instrumentalist Andy Frizell (Kevin Ayers, Wizards of Twiddly), those dedicated followers of Ella Guru who stayed the path will find their patience very well rewarded. ‘The Quiet Portraits’ is a remarkable achievement from an unassuming, yet hugely talented artist.

It’s a welcome relief amid the rapidly changing musical landscape to find that all that has changed in John’s world is the number of musicians around him. The beautiful storytelling, the art of finding those magical musical moments that will remain with you for years to come: all of that has survived the passing of time intact.
Happiest with headphones on, working alone in the small hours from his Liverpool home, Yates has created another masterpiece.
He explains: “In the wee small hours, with loved ones safely asleep and the busy day done, there comes a hush. Within it, you can breathe and listen. Listen for the infinite possibilities. From those possibilities emerged these portraits. I have sought to find those precious moments: of love and peace in turbulent times, of truth and hope for calmer days ahead. I hope you find them too.”
Entitled ‘The Quiet Portraits,’ the new solo album from John Canning Yates tells tales of people and places, of time, family, history, belonging, forgetting and remembering.

Svaneborg Kardyb are Nikolaj Svaneborg – Wurlitzer, Juno, piano and Jonas Kardyb – drums, percussion a multi award winning duo from Denmark, with a fast-rising international reputation and with an NPR Tiny Desk concert – number one on many artist’s wish lists - in the bag before even the release of their Gondwana Records debut album Over Tage last November.



Their beautiful, exquisite compositions draw on Danish folk music and Scandinavian jazz influences, resulting in a joyful melding of beautiful melodies, delicate minimalism, catchy grooves, subtle electronica vibes, Nordic atmospheres and organic interplay. All of this and more shines through on their NPR session, first broadcast in May 2022 on YouTube. But of course, not everyone watches YouTube and so here, remastered for vinyl and download, is a strictly limited to 1500 vinyl, four tracker - At Home (An NPR Tiny Desk Concert) featuring bespoke artwork from Gondwana Records’ Daniel Halsall.



Here is what Kara Frame had to say for NPR, “Svaneborg Kardyb's Tiny Desk (home) concert was recorded in the countryside of Djursland, Denmark. "You have to drive for a while on a gravel road, and then you come to a lovely old house surrounded by hills and a stream on one side and a very flat landscape on the other, where you can see 10 miles away," the band wrote to us, describing the location of the shoot. It's this place that inspired Svaneborg Kardyb's second album, Haven (or "garden" in English). "Haven celebrates places we like to be," the duo said.



The Danish jazz duo is composed of Nikolaj Svaneborg on the Wurlitzer, synthesizer and piano, and Jonas Kardyb on drums and percussion. Their instrumentation set-up is untraditional, with the drums and keys facing each other, a position that they play in on stage just as they do in Kardyb's kitchen and living room here. They open up their set with the title track from Haven, which begins with a quiet melody over an effervescent loop. The sound mimics the shimmy of leaves in the breeze.”

After her stunning collaborations with Vincent Royer (for Mode Records), Jim O"Rourke and Christoph Heemann (both for Oren Ambarchi"s Black Truffle Records) Brunhild Ferrari returns to the scene with this new solo album. Extérieur-jour is comprised of two previously unreleased compositions, one being the title track the album is named after and the other "Le Piano Englouti (version original)." Extérieur-jour translates to "Outside Day," and indicates an instruction for a film scene, a piece of cinéma pour l"oreille, a movie for the ears. It was recorded at Luc Ferrari"s Atelier Post Billig in January and February 2014. "Le Piano Englouti" ("The Sunken Piano"), another electroacoustic composition which was realized over a period of fourteen years between 1996 and 2010, also brings forth cinematic elements with sound sources recorded in places as diverse as a Greek island by the noisy Agean Sea, a Pachinko place and a quiet island in Japan. It comes across as a meditation on the loss and reappearance of memory and silence. The graphics for the album sleeve were created by the late Wolfgang Meyer Tormin, artist and composer and also father of Brunhild Ferrari. The album was mastered for vinyl from the original source by Jim O"Rourke.

An autumnal treasure, East Village’s Drop Out has spent the past thirty years finding new ears to bewitch and new hearts to melt. The only album from this British four-piece, recorded and released in the early nineties, it’s long been considered one of the hidden jewels of its time, and is talked of with hushed reverence by people who know. Bob Stanley of Saint Etienne once called it “an elegy for a particular brand of eighties guitar music, sweet minor chords and Dylanesque lyrics”, which captures what makes it so special; in summarising its era, though, it also effortlessly transcends it.

Like all great guitar gangs, East Village fell together as a four-piece; having relocated from High Wycombe to London in mid ‘80s, brothers Martin and Paul Kelly on bass and guitar, set on forming a group together, were joined by John Wood (guitar) and Spencer Smith (drums). Wood and the Kellys shared writing and vocal duties; it was an ideal combination, and one of the many charms of East Village is their various song writing voices, a tip of the hat, seemingly, to the 60s folk-rock groups who influenced them.

Originally influenced by garage-rock and freakbeat, the band eventually came through via the same scene as groups like Felt, The Go-Betweens, The Weather Prophets, and Primal Scream. They’d formed as Episode Four, releasing an EP, Strike Up Matches, in 1986, which has gone on to become one of most sought after releases of the C86 era. Their first two singles as East Village, ‘Cubans In The Bluefields’ (1987) and ‘Back Between Places’ (1988), were released on Jeff Barrett’s Sub Aqua label.

When it came time to record Drop Out, East Village found a supporter in Bob Stanley, who bankrolled the album sessions until Barrett re-signed the band to his new imprint Heavenly Recordings in 1990. The album that took shape is dusky, heartfelt, lamplit, full of chiming minor chords, close harmonies, rattling organs, all buoyed by a rhythm section that moves as one, steady and elegant. There’s melancholy here, certainly, on songs like ‘What Kind Of Friend Is This’, but also pleasure and freedom, on ‘When I Wake Tomorrow’ and ‘Silver Train’. The group were obsessed with Dylan’s Eat The Document at the time, and the album’s rich with references to the film; Drop Out’s character is also somehow close to the thin wild mercury sound of Blonde On Blonde, and the lambent light of the Byrds’ Notorious Byrd Brothers.

In one of life’s gentler surprises, ‘Silver Train’ became an unexpected radio hit in Australia when released there as a single in 1993. The story of East Village seems marked by such unexpected turns and surprising events. None was more surprising for their fans at the time, though, than their onstage split in 1991, leaving an unreleased album in the can. Encouraged by Jeff Barrett the band revisited the tapes two years on and while mixing the album for its posthumous release in 1993 invited Debsey Wykes (Dolly Mixture, Coming Up Roses, Saint Etienne, Birdie) to sing the quietly devastating album closer, “Everybody Knows”, a perfect, sad-eyed sign-off.

Listening now to Drop Out, its timelessness is clear. It could have been recorded by young folk-pop hopefuls in the late sixties, taking their shot at the big time; but it could just as easily have been recorded yesterday, by a group that’s both reverent to music’s past, but forward looking in spirit and temperament. It’s that kind of album. Drop Out’s pop poetry is fully formed, with a singular charm that takes in wistfulness, romance, and good times, and a clutch of deeply moving songs that are overflowing with melody and gracefulness. It’s pretty much everything you’d want from a guitar pop record.

It's also an album that’s slowly accrued its own legend. From its stunning cover art, photographed by Juergen Teller originally for a Katherine Hammett campaign, to the ten perfectly formed songs within, Drop Out’s significance in the scheme of things is such that, a decade ago, it was given a rare 10/10 rating in Uncut magazine, who called the album “the lost classic of its era”. Drop Out comes round every decade or so, each edition introducing new fans to its understated beauty, and this latest reissue is its most elegant and deluxe yet.

The 30th anniversary edition of Drop Out lands in two formats: an LP with tip-on style jacket and four-page insert, designed to partner with the 2019 vinyl reissue of their singles and rarities compilation, Hot Rod Hotel; and a double CD, featuring an extra disc compiling the group’s early singles and alternative versions. This CD edition previously has only been available in Japan, though it now features a new, superior mix of their second single, ‘Back Between Places’. Both feature new, typically eloquent liner notes from writer Jon Savage.

The members of East Village have all gone on to do inspired things: Martin Kelly joined Jeff Barrett at Heavenly and has managed label mainstays Saint Etienne since 1993; Paul Kelly formed Birdie with Debsey Wykes, and is now a renowned film director and graphic designer; both Paul and Spencer Smith played in Saint Etienne’s live band; John Wood moved to China to teach, and released a lovely, understated folk album, Quiet Storm, in Japan in 2006. But with the hazy perfection of Drop Out, they’ve all already etched their names in the firmament.

Provocative percussion from the jazz trio Zen Widow!
Recorded live to 2-track analogue tape at Capitol Studios (CAP A)
Produced by Tone Poet's Joe Harley, recorded by Mike Ross
100% analogue mastering* by Kevin Gray at Cohearent Audio
Pressed on 180-gram ultra-quiet vinyl at RTI
Deluxe Old Style Tip-On single pocket gatefold jacket by Stoughton Printing

*Track 8 finished from high-resolution digital for vocal track
Intervention Records presents a special collaborative distribution effort with Italian objet-a records, Zen Widow IV – (from one dark age to another). This AAA 180G vinyl release is the fourth recording of Zen Widow, and it places an emphasis on highly melodic, spacious, and engaging treatments of medieval compositions ranging from Gesualdo Da Venosa, the Burana and Chantilly Codex, Welsh Gower folk melodies and texts, as well as the Bach Cello suites. These rich compositions are then reimagined through the lens of a highly accomplished and adventuresome jazz-improvised music trio.

Zen Widow is an international improvisational music-jazz super group. They have recorded and performed in clubs and festivals throughout the United States and Europe for that last 20 years. The trio consists of Gianni Gebbia (Bb soprano saxophone – cornettophone ) from Sicily, Italy, Matthew Goodheart (grand piano – transducer-actuated gong) from New York, Garth Powell (drums, percussion, and gongs) from Los Angeles, and is joined by special guest Dwight Trible (vocals) for this recording. Their previous release featured trumpet and jazz master Wadada Leo Smith, and like this recording was produced by Joe Harley (Blue Note – Tone Poet Series, Charles Lloyd, and Music Matters Jazz).

Garth Powell is also an audio industry legend, and AudioQuest’s Sr. Director of Engineering. Garth is the driving force behind the company’s multi award-winning line of Niagara series power conditioners and its Mythical Creatures ultra high-performance cables.

As powerful as these performances are, the sonic results created by this production/engineering team is equally stunning – a truly reference quality analogue experience.

This recording is captured live-to-two-track analogue, 30ips tape at Capitol Studios (studio “A”) by Mike Ross and Steve Genewick. 7 of the 8 tracks are AAA, while the last track alone is finished high-res digital to accommodate the vocal track. Mastering and lacquers cut by Kevin Gray at CoHEARent Audio, with 180-gram pressings by RTI (Camarillo, California).

The single-gatefold jacket is a deluxe Old Style “tip-on” from Stoughton, designed by Intervention’s longtime Art Director Tom Vadakan.

Hey Colossus's mammoth, nearly album-length cover of 'You Laugh At My Face' from Catholic by Patrick Cowley and Jorge Socarras, was initially commissioned by The Quietus for Sound + Vision subscribers before being released as part of state51's ongoing Singularity series. Here it's presented in marbled red vinyl with a stunning Bass Clef remix on side B.

"I think the mixing and the choice of sounds in anything that Patrick Cowley did is flawless," says Chris Summerlin of Hey Colossus. "Especially the instrumentals on School Daze – you can imagine the places they're in, the planets they're on, and I think that's a good approach to mixing any type of music."

The result is the group's latest high-water mark. Over its almost 22-minute runtime, Hey Colossus make the song their own by utilising an expansive arsenal of dub-like tactics. Excepting a rough-and-ready surprise near the track's conclusion, their 'You Laugh At My Face' is a genuinely gorgeous, psychedelic exploration of the Cowley and Socarras original.

Martha and Jessica Kilpatrick (aka Waterbaby) had a creative upbringing in South London – spending their days singing in Southwark Cathedral Choir or experimenting with recording ideas onto cassette tapes, such as trying to make their out-of-tune family piano and a flute sound like an electric guitar. Eventually settling together in an attic flat in Peckham, the sisters became quiet, mystical forces in the underground London scene, emerging in and out of the sanctuary of their studio to perform their hypnotic live show with artists as varied as Kedr Livansky, James K, TAAHLIAH, and Dorian Electra. The sisters’ insular and feminine sonic world showcases inventive song structures backed by dizzying layers of production – all crafted on their stash of lost & found analogue gear in their South East London studio, squashed between Hyperdub’s headquarters and a mechanic’s garage. In a world where the analogue and the digital seem to be in constant headlock, Waterbaby effortlessly solve the equation – operating in a space where Cocteau Twins-esque anachronism meets the sharper edge of contemporary experimental electronica. Press: “The 10-track album is a window into the duo’s alternate reality, where folklore and mysticism blend together to create a kaleidoscopic dreamworld of experimental electronica." – Dazed “The sisters often go to magical places with their celestial compositions … Across the album’s 10 tracks, there’s a great deal of artistic ambition within the arrangements.” - Loud & Quiet "Like a distorted transmission from somewhere out of time, Waterbaby serve as our conduits, lightning rods for pop music and art of a more mystical variety." - Fact Mag "Their long-awaited debut 22° Halo' locates their sound somewhere between the nebulous chamber pop of Cocteau Twins, the meticulous synths of Air, and the speculative electronics of Arca or Oneohtrix Point Never

Recital presents the first full-length vinyl LP by sound artist Asha Sheshadri. Whiplash combines elements of sound poetry, diary-like narrations, and delicate incidental music. Sheshadri has crafted a unique and marvelous album.

Asha Sheshadri is a visual artist and musician, who “meditates on meaning, context, and impermanence” (Joshua Kim). Moves freely between video, writing, sound, and photography. Her forms flow together to create unpredictable observations of the overlooked, while documenting personal and political networks within our collective, imperfect memory.

“This record is an alternate approach to the autobiographical ‘confessional’ – I wanted to stitch together some pivotal sketches in self-understanding and forgiveness. While their designs may seem affectively disparate, they are in fact quite interrelated. My intention (as with past recordings) is to task the listener with tracing the contours of the narrative (or lack thereof). Each track contains sound from video work, excerpts from writers I admire, ethnographic methods, recovered and recycled voice/text memos, photographs from personal and public archives, and research-driven fictions. These sources expand and collapse into each other, only to reveal the eponymous "whiplash". To me, the feeling of "whiplash" is the collision of: a refracted ambivalence towards what was once real, the endless cycle of reckoning with wherever "home" has taken place, the fraught process of anchoring one’s self in the wake of slow-release trauma, and how (if even possible) to translate all of this into artwork.” –Asha Sheshadri, 2023

“Place is security, space is freedom: we are attached to the one and long for the other. There is no place like home.” –Yi Fu Tuan, Space and Place: The Perspective of Experience.

All tracks arranged & recorded by Asha Sheshadri; in bedrooms, living rooms, libraries, bars, airplanes, backyards and parks across North America.
Mastered by Sean McCann.

Naarm/Melbourne-based soul artist and proud Noongar woman Bumpy presents her new single, ‘Return Home’, it illuminates the transportive nature of BUMPY, guiding the listener through a world in which vulnerability is strength and power is quiet but self-assured.

Described by Bumpy as an ode to home and “the people, places and connections that make us feel grounded and at ease”, ‘Return Home’ is propelled by stirring strings arranged by Aaron Wyatt, who recently marked history as the first Indigenous conductor of an Australian state orchestra.

Joe Sutkowski (Dirt Buyer)'s new album is a documentation of making it to the other side. Sutkowski grew up in New Jersey, and although he lives in Brooklyn now, he remains " an emo kid at heart ," garnering inspiration from bands like My Chemical Romance and Muse, the latter of whose theatrical, dramatic performances inspired the band's own vocal-forward, soaring takes. Initially working together as a duo while Sutkowski and Ruben Radlauer (Model/Actriz) were at school in Berklee, the band's self-titled 2019 debut album was recorded on an IPhone in their practice room on just drums and guitar, and the quietly striking, nuanced stylings earned them accolades far beyond the " fake record label " the two made up to originally release their music. The band's new album, Dirt Buyer II , was recorded in February 2020, and represents a foray into heavier material that marks a deeper shift for the band. Now working as a trio, Sutkowski is flanked by Tristan Allen on bass and Mike Costa on drums, a fellow Berklee grad who cut his teeth playing in bands across Boston including past collaborations with Sutkowski. Half-recorded while the band was on tour with Surf Curse, the record finds Sutkowski reaching out for places, people and beliefs to ground him. Throughout the album he attempts to wrap his head around the idea of fate and how you can brush up against other people and then leave them behind. The songs themselves play with this concept of light and dark intertwined. Oscillating between urgency and cathartic release and more stripped-back elegies, Sutkowski faces the reality that while the people he'd rather forget can still live on through music, he is able to move on at the same time. Half-recorded in his mother and uncle's upstate house where he turned the living room into a studio, he contemplates the beauty and disaster around him - all refracted through visceral visual imagery of how the physical earth meets the unknown to converge in something greater than ourselves. " This is all a living chronicle of all I want to do, which is feel good and be happy ," he admits. " I'm a completely different person now - a better version of myself ." Processing the past, Sutkowksi has emerged with newfound belief, fully intact and with a new path forward to the future.

Joe Sutkowski (Dirt Buyer)'s new album is a documentation of making it to the other side. Sutkowski grew up in New Jersey, and although he lives in Brooklyn now, he remains " an emo kid at heart ," garnering inspiration from bands like My Chemical Romance and Muse, the latter of whose theatrical, dramatic performances inspired the band's own vocal-forward, soaring takes. Initially working together as a duo while Sutkowski and Ruben Radlauer (Model/Actriz) were at school in Berklee, the band's self-titled 2019 debut album was recorded on an IPhone in their practice room on just drums and guitar, and the quietly striking, nuanced stylings earned them accolades far beyond the " fake record label " the two made up to originally release their music. The band's new album, Dirt Buyer II , was recorded in February 2020, and represents a foray into heavier material that marks a deeper shift for the band. Now working as a trio, Sutkowski is flanked by Tristan Allen on bass and Mike Costa on drums, a fellow Berklee grad who cut his teeth playing in bands across Boston including past collaborations with Sutkowski. Half-recorded while the band was on tour with Surf Curse, the record finds Sutkowski reaching out for places, people and beliefs to ground him. Throughout the album he attempts to wrap his head around the idea of fate and how you can brush up against other people and then leave them behind. The songs themselves play with this concept of light and dark intertwined. Oscillating between urgency and cathartic release and more stripped-back elegies, Sutkowski faces the reality that while the people he'd rather forget can still live on through music, he is able to move on at the same time. Half-recorded in his mother and uncle's upstate house where he turned the living room into a studio, he contemplates the beauty and disaster around him - all refracted through visceral visual imagery of how the physical earth meets the unknown to converge in something greater than ourselves. " This is all a living chronicle of all I want to do, which is feel good and be happy ," he admits. " I'm a completely different person now - a better version of myself ." Processing the past, Sutkowksi has emerged with newfound belief, fully intact and with a new path forward to the future.

A live recording from 1977! First time on vinyl! Previously only available on CD as part of the Past & Future Landslide 3CD box set! LIVE AT THE QUEENS HOTEL MARGATE 1977 It was 1977 and things were progressing extremely well. We had signed to Beggars Banquet and our first single ‘Shadow’ b/w ‘Love Story’ had been released. John Peel had been playing both sides of the single most nights on his radio show, so we were getting heard by a lot of people. But we didn’t yet have a "proper" tour bus, so we all piled into a transit for the trip down to Margate with our tour manager Mike Stone in the driving seat. The Queens Hotel turned out to be a pretty good venue. There was a nice high stage which we much preferred over the low-slung platforms of some of the places we played. It meant that the crowd wasn’t totally swamping us the whole time, although there would still be a constant stream of people jumping on and off stage, bumping us, knocking equipment over and so forth. We weren’t sure if many people would turn up on a cold and windy night so close to Christmas, but it was a good turnout, and they were out for a good time too. There was none of the aggro stuff which would become a problem later on at our shows. The actual gig was typical of a Lurkers show at that time, being fairly chaotic with a lot of crowd "interaction". There is a recklessly fast version of ‘Pills’ on the recording, and I think we were playing ‘It’s Quiet Here’ for the first time live. Howard was on good form too; it would be his birthday on Christmas Day. My favourite quip from him is towards the end of the show when he says "eat your heart out Hank Marvin" after one of my more eccentric Shadows guitar intros. PETE STRIDE 2022

Limited Black & White Swirl Vinyl. On December 29, 2012, three songs into Chastity Belt's first KEXP in-studio, something extraordinary happened: they shared "Black Sail" with the world. That year, I'd seen Chastity Belt play countless basement, bar, and DIY shows all over Seattle, but nothing could've prepared me for how my friends turned patience and quiet observation into something so affecting and effortlessly cool. Ten years later, "Black Sail" isn't just a fan favorite - it's practically a statement of purpose for the great albums that followed. But before those records, there was No Regerts: the sound of four friends evolving from a party band into a "real" one (whatever that means) in real-time. They're above it all on "Seattle Party," "Happiness," and "Evil," but remain the sirens of Whitman College's cursed frat houses - see the explosive choruses of "James Dean," "Healthy Punk," and "Pussy Weed Beer." When No Regerts came out in the summer of 2013, Seattle - and the world at large - took notice. I still hear these songs in surprising places, and they still surprise me - just as they did a decade ago. If you missed out the first time, this is your second chance.

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El Nido: a welcoming embrace in uncertain times. The world changed forever in the second quarter of 2020. The life we were used to ceased to be, as we were overcome by constant fear, distrust in all that surrounded us and a fatalist attitude towards the world we lived in. With the pandemic came lockdown, mandatory isolation for months, empty streets, face masks, hand sanitizer, the fear of going out, an absurd roll call of Covid fatalities, the daily tension of not knowing when it would all end and the urge to "get back to normal," something that certainly never happened. Out of that pandemic saturation and that urge for "normality" came El Nido ("The Nest"), the third album by Italy-based Colombian producer Montoya, who describes this record as "becoming virgins of destiny again, facing up to that fatalist world and creating that longing for tranquility. Savoring that moment prior to the pandemic, that instant when the most important thing wasn't the immediate reality or the global situation." Montoya sees El Nido as that quiet place that you think of when you close your eyes; it is a beach or a mountain, a sunrise or a sunset, a wave in the sea refreshing your body, or an almost-whispering wind that immediately silences everything around you. On his previous records, Iwa in 2015 and Otún in 2019, his work as a producer prevailed, feeding the growing wave of Latin American electronica, fusing IDM and techno with indigenous root music, Andean folklore and rhythms from the tropical Caribbean coast and ancestral Pacific in terms of instrumentation. But on El Nido Montoya splits the balance, offering us five merely instrumental tracks and six collaborations with Latin American artists, including Colombians Nidia Góngora on "Soñé," Montañera on "Sierra" and Pedrina on "Nubecita." It also features Mexican artist Pahua on "Flor del Mar," the Peruvian Lara Nuh on "El Faro" and the Franco-Venezuelan La Chica on "Palosanto." Starting from the name itself ("The Nest"), an evocation of home, El Nido is also a Filipino municipality on the island of Palawan, a place that turned out to be Montoya's last live experience before the pandemic. That place with crystal clear seas and white sand became the scene and starting point for this work, reflecting on the abstraction of a chaotic world and proposing blurred destinations with each song, like places that exist within memories when we close our eyes, letting us inhabit them, for a couple of minutes at least. On the other hand, it's a record that approaches love; as a yearning and a refuge, as a guide and an anchor, but also as a rhetorical figure that makes us vibrate and elevates us, while at the same time keeping us grounded and letting us settle in the place that we can use as our shelter.

Robin Saville - one half of the influential duo ISAN - returns to Morr Music with »Lore«, his fourth solo album to date. After 2020’s »Build A Diorama«, the British musician takes his love for field recordings, whirring pads, hovering bells and subtle electronics further, adding extra depth to both his sonic palette and his storytelling, focussing on biological diversity and its implications for human life.

For many years now, ›look and listen‹ has been Robin Saville's motto on his regular environmental explorations. The avid ambler does not just enjoy being out and about in nature; it is an important inspiration for his creative work as well. Sounds, smells, colours and even soil properties add to the experience. Equipped with a microphone and a recording device, Saville documents his strolls, using these recordings as a base for his compositions. »The field recordings on the album were made very locally this time, for obvious reasons,« he says. Welcome to the sonic landscape of the UK's East Anglia.

»Judith Avenue«, the opening track, is a great example of how Saville evolved his perspective on the sounds of nature: »It is a residential street, fading into a scrubby, wild landscape. There, I made a recording of nightingales at dusk. Such romantic birds! The males fly here from Africa a couple of weeks ahead of the females. They find a good territory, and at dusk, when all the other birds are going quiet, they start to sing to tempt the females down from their migratory flight paths. This has happened for thousands of years. However, the patch of ground where I made the recordings is earmarked for development and I don't suppose it'll happen there again. The recordings therefore become part of the history of that place, the lore.«

Recording the sounds of nature and enriching them with electronic sorcery, Saville is not only a documenting preservationist; he also translates these recordings into meaningful musical miniatures. Building on the soundscapes that marked his previous LP »Build A Diorama«, »Lore« is dominated by both open-hearted melancholy and more upbeat rhythms. But even when the music sounds quirky and loose, there is always deeper meaning. The album is characterised by an ever present melancholy about the threatening loss of living spaces, and a celebration of their beauty. This simultaneity turns the tracks into existential meditations about our human habitat. Saville enriches our lives musically by addressing the very issues we often ignore. At the same time, he becomes an agent of hope and change. Moving between light and dark, »Lore« is a musical allegory of where we stand today.

»The album is a document of places and times and while it is certainly a celebration of those things, it is also a record of things we are losing. That's how interaction with nature feels to me nowadays: something precious and amazing, but with an underlying sadness about the destructive relationship that humanity seems inevitably to have with the world around it.«

Let's not lose any more things.

Lost soul phenomenon Lewis Taylor's Numb finally arrives on double vinyl! One of UK soul’s most fascinating artists, most enigmatic figures and most under-appreciated talents, Andrew Lewis Taylor is a prodigious multi-instrumentalist and eclectic polymath. He enjoys a fiercely loyal following which, over the years, has included celebrity champions like Bowie, Elton and D'Angelo. Numb is Taylor's sixth album, initially released on his own label Slow Reality (an anagram of his name) and licensed to Be With for this long-awaited physical edition. It captures Taylor's wholly unique, intoxicating take on lush, late-night psychedelic soul music.

Lewis wrote and recorded these 10 brand new tracks after a 17 year break from making music, although the album came together over a two-year period. The years away have done nothing to dull Taylor's unique musical vision. He still astounds. The lyrical themes, however, have shifted. Understandably, more than a decade and a half of soul searching and unflinching self-examination cannot fail to influence this most honest of songwriters, and boy does it show. Numb marks a return to the darker, more mysterious side of his output: "Brian Wilson-channels-Smokey Robinson atmospheres", as Mojo put it recently.

After playing a rapturously received gig at the Bowery Ballroom in NYC in 2006, Lewis unceremoniously walked away from music and disappeared completely. An interview in 2016 shed light on some of the reasons for Taylor’s withdrawal from the business, but there was no hint of a return anytime soon. Then in June 2021, news emerged out of the blue that he was readying new music alongside Sabina Smyth with whom he had worked first time around.

On Numb, Lewis deftly balances stark, soul-bearing lyrics with moody mid-tempo pop-soul sheen. He deals candidly with depression, mental turmoil, even thoughts of suicide - clearly more personal than Taylor's earlier songs. The music is rich, warm and layered, with infectious melodies and hooks that stick with you. A true grower of an LP, it really does reward repeated listens. As Jim Irvin in Mojo reflected, "despite the depths these plumb, it's a curiously uplifting experience, unfurling like a concept album about life's challenges with an optimistic beauty at its heart."

Triumphant dubwise horns ring out yet, almost instantly, “Final Hour” takes on a dark, downbeat vibe. With lyrics that confront (and, seemingly, confound) death head-on, Lewis ensures the groove is still there, the beats still swing and your head still nods, strings glissade. Woven around delicate yet insistent piano and subtle strings over a killer bassline, the title track “Numb” is a good example of the lyrical themes throughout the album. As Taylor reflects, "So removed I feel no pain / And for all I know I could be having the time of my life" with a coda that feels very much in conversation with Brian Wilson's finest harmonies. "Feels So Good" is sophisticated 90s-sounding soul of the highest order. The music and vocals feel simultaneously optimistic and despondent. Downlifting. A neat trick, and one Lewis has been so adept at over the years. "Apathy" is a mini-epic, a symphonic-soul gem which builds and glides and, eventually, soars. “Worried Mind" is another slow-builder, creeping out the gate in a sketchy, discordant fashion before climbing to half-crescendo but never quite breaking free of its disorientating restraint.

The brighter "Please" presents a more hopeful mood, with the refrain "I still believe" ringing out as Lewis harmonises with himself. "Brave Heart" quietly struts from step one, as Lewis's falsetto swaggers over a downtempo backdrop with ace echoey drums, beautiful strings and serene electric guitar. Closing out Side C, "Is It Cool" answers its own (non-) question with a spellbinding five and a half minutes of swoonsome deep soul that oscillates between a restrained, barely-there backdrop and a lushly full musical accompaniment of acoustic and electric guitar and organ over bass and slick drums. The penultimate track "Nearer" is a magical, soul-stirring ballad in which Lewis sings of reaching a sweet salvation and achieving a peace of mind. If the hairs on the back of your neck aren't standing up by the midway point, you might need to check your pulse. Album closer and true tear-jerker "Being Broken" places Lewis's gorgeous voice high in the mix and the wordless falsetto and melodies invite you to ponder what Pet Sounds might sound like if it were refashioned as a dubby 21st Century electronic soul album. Astonishing.

Simon Francis’s vinyl mastering spreads out the ten tracks over a double LP so, as ever, nothing is compromised. And as usual, the records have been cut by Cicely Balston at Air Studios and pressed at Record Industry. Turn it up and let the Lewis Taylor sound envelop you.

A Late Lunch’ is the soundtrack to Akiko Iimura’s eponymous movie realized in 1978. It is based on acoustic instruments and field recordings, brilliantly reconfigured and mixed by Bekaert to create a surreal, immersive soundscape. The technique used includes superposition and speed change of recordings, radical sound effects and juxtapositions of sounds. The players were prominent musicians of the 1970’s, including Maggi Payne, George Lewis, David Rosenboom and Blue Gene Tyranny.

‘A Summer Day at Stony Point’ was composed in 1969, with participation of David Behrman, Shigeko Kubota and Charlotte Warren. The piece was commissioned by English composer Hugh Davies who presented it at the Harrogate festival the same year. Stony Point is a small village in New York State where John Cage co-owned a small pseudo-commune art resort where like-minded artists gathered. ‘A Summer Day at Stony Point’ is nothing more than a page of a journal, a fragment of a notebook that utilizes a series of sound sources recorded at Stony Point on one beautiful day in the summer of 1968. Other electronic sound sources were recorded at the Brandeis University where Alvin Lucier was professor. The final realization of the piece was done at Henri Pousseur’s APELAC Studio in Brussels, 1969.

The soundtrack for Akiko Iimura’s ‘Mon Petit Album’ was composed on the basis of a simple description of the technique of the film and its time span. It includes David Behrman on alto, from an outdoor recording at Stony Point, plus excerpts from a Transition concert in London, the band Bekaert formed in 1971 with Michel Herr, Takehisa Kosugi and Ryo Koike, both members of the Taj Mahal Travelers. The atmosphere is quiet and pastoral throughout with a very dreamlike flavour.

Jacques Bekaert (1940-2020) was a man of many gifts: author, journalist, composer, photographer, visual artist, wine connoisseur, radio talk show host, diplomat and expert in Southeast Asian affairs. His whole life Bekaert has been actively involved in music but not much of his work got recorded or published. In the early 60’s Bekaert studied with Pousseur and through his frequent visits to the US he became friends with artists like John Cage, David Tudor, Charlotte Moorman and most of all David Behrman with whom he had a close friendship ever since. Bekaert helped organize the first European tour of The Sonic Arts Union (David Behrman, Robert Ashley, Gordon Mumma, Alvin Lucier) and in the early 70’s he formed the group Transition (with Belgian jazz pianist Michel Herr, Takehisa Kosugi and Ryo Koike, both members of the Taj Mahal Travelers). His meeting with Japanese experimental film-maker Akiko Iimura resulted in two film soundtracks featured on this one of a kind discreet avant garde album.

When asked in a 1979 interview about his double life as a musician and a journalist, Bekaert replied, “I suppose they’re both unsafe, unstable, questioning jobs—composing and reporting. Journalism takes me to places, shows me the world as it is. My music is my wish for the kind of world I’d want to live in. The little peaceful state I dream for everyone, where you can be yourself, and happy, and as collective as possible without giving up total privacy.”

Originally released in 1981 on the Belgian Igloo label this reissue comes with the same sleeve as originally designed by Alain Géronnez.

Innemuseum is the debut album by Danish composer, singer and multi-instrumentalist Cisser Mæhl. The 10 fragile compositions for vocals, sparse electronics and a myriad of instrumentation illuminate a hushed charm unlike few other Sonic Pieces releases to date.

The album sparked off while Cisser was working in a mountain lodge in mid Norway during summer 2019. On her spare time she would find herself recording mountains, rivers, stones, plants and animals in the beautiful scenery. After moving to Oslo shortly after, she rented a studio to further work on her own music, songs and sound processing. Through some friends she met Norwegian artist Jenny Hval who became an inspiration as she started taking solo classes with her. Jenny then pushed to contact producer Lasse Marhaug to work together. This became the last piece of the puzzle for Innemuseum to come to fruition as Lasse ended up putting the final touches on the album. When Cisser returned to Copenhagen after 7 months in Oslo, the album was finished. The title “Innemuseum” refers to both the dark months in Oslo and the retraction towards the inner self. An inner museum - music from within, both as a person and as in physical places.

This is undeniably a very personal record that sounds like the musical embodiment of Cisser herself. She sings in Danish in a close-miked way like she's sitting right next to you, all while gentle rhythms and soft strings together create a sort of bright, minimal chamber music with hints of pop sensibility. It almost feels like a Scandinavian reflection of Colleen's work in her more quiet, vocal periods. A music box of weightless compositions for the conscious mind.

Hollie Kenniff's second LP for Western Vinyl, We All Have Places That We Miss, is a gallery of cloudlike synths, seraphic strings, and humming guitars, all coaxed into cohesion by Hollie's own wordless singing. The album's 2021 precursor, The Quiet Drift, landed on Bandcamp's Best Ambient list alongside the description "Drawing on the deep tones of drone, dream pop harmonies, and new age's bright tranquility, Kenniff evokes the forests, lakes and rivers of her past and present surroundings with a zen patience." Here on Places_ she strides even further into reminiscence, seeking and commemorating the fondly tragic ache of half-remembered locales lost to time: A grandparent's dim living room from an ambiguous decade; a lonely clearing beside a trail we can't remember if we walked or just dreamt; the calming light of a movie that aired years before we were born though our feelings insist we were there with the characters. We All Have Places That We Miss transmutes such glimmers into a palpable sonic kingdom that can be revisited at will, recalling the pedal-board ambience of Windy & Carl, Adam Wiltzie, and Liz Harris.

Shelter Press extend a quietly cine-poetic invitation to visit the Outer Hebrides via immersive sounds - field recordings of psalm singing and local dialect - collected and arranged by interdisciplinary artist Joshua Bonnetta, going hand-in-hand with Shelter Press’ core interests in the fading light of its 10th year in operation. A beautiful artefact - complete with 60 page photobook.

Accompanied by an evocative photo study and access to an accompanying film and essay, Bonetta’s second release for Shelter Press following 2016’s ‘Lago’ imparts a real feel for the archipelago, off the north west coast of Scotland, where he was stationed during an artist’s residency during 2017-2019. Stitched together from observant field recordings and interviews with residents on the islands of Barra, Berneray, Harris, Lewis & North Uist, the work elicits a sense of timelessness in its slow drift between shores, hills, standing stones and the intimacy of its voices, including Gaelic spoken word, folk song and whistling. Save for the appearance of a plane overhead, the sounds of car and boat motors, plus a little bit of electronic disturbance that pull you into the modern era; the results practically imagine what it would have been like to visit the islands with a recording device at any point since the last ice age. 

For Bonetta, who hails from rural Canada, the similarities between his formative landscapes and those of Scotland must have appeared familiar, perhaps a subconscious recall/reminder that the two places shared a landmass, albeit 425 million years ago. His sound sensitive subtlety and cinematic ear in arranging his collected sounds serves to highlight the way the modern world only just infringes on Innse Gall’s ancient landscapes and only relatively modern tongues (if we’re thinking in geologic terms of scale). We hear the sounds of its avian population seamlessly eliding its humans in the whistling of Alick Macauley, and the natural cadence of of its mild oceanic climate mirrored in lilting Gaelic folksong, here performed by Calum McDonald, Joey Morrison, and Maggie Smith, and more generally practiced by only a tiny percentage of Scotland’s population (some 1%) but still surely alive in its meridian isles where time moves much more slowly.

With the nuance and poetry expected of a Shelter Press title, ‘Innes Gall’ reflects on the area’s anglicised name, meaning “islands of the strangers”, with calming, soberly documentarian results as heartwarming and fascinating as a visit to the area, just without the effort of travel, and from the comfort of your own living space. Bonnetta is incapable of ignoring the cinematic frame, and intersperses each shot with enough poetry to keep you entranced.

Auf dem dritten Album von Ghost Funk Orchestra klingt jeder Song wie der Soundtrack zu einer Szene aus einem imaginären Film. Die Musik könnte einem romantischen Drama, einem Action-Thriller oder einer modernen Variante eines klassischen Film Noir entstammen. Der sparsame, kaskadenartige Gesang unterstreicht die üppige instrumentale Orchestrierung, komponiert, gespielt, arrangiert und produziert von Multi-Instrumentalist Seth Applebaum. Er nutzt die klanglichen Mittel der Exotica aus der Mitte des vergangenen Jahrhunderts und die der prägnanten Pop-Orchester, die die Hitparaden der 60er und frühen 70er Jahre dominierten. Er vermischt Eindrücke aus dieser vergangenen Ära mit dem Ausdruck seiner aktuellen Erfahrungen als junger Filmemacher im 21. Jahrhundert, wobei er Einflüsse wie Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings und Antibalas aufgreift. A New Kind of Love referenziert die Vergangenheit, ohne zu versuchen, sie nachzubilden. Das 10-köpfige Ghost Funk Orchestra erweckt sein Material zum Leben und läutet mit diesem anspruchsvollen Werk die neue Ära der Band ein.

After Quiet Places (2020) Andreas Vollenweider has grouped his music
on his new album according to atmosphere and character: Slow Flow is a collection of pieces with a relaxed, flowing feel, while "Dancer" is full of movement and rhythm All 11 songs on "Slow Flow" and "Dancer" were created between 2010 and 2021 in collaboration with British producer Andy Wright (Eurythmics, Simply Red, Jeff Beck, Simple Minds, among many others). The two were supported in their
creative process by Vollenweider's talented circle of friends, who laid the foundation for the songs: Walter Keiser (drums), Andi Pupato (percussion), Daniel Kueffer (bass clarinet), Oliver Keller (guitars) and the young Swiss rapper and beat boxer Steff La Cheffe, a.k.a. Stefanie Peter. The music of "Dancer" also reflects Vollenweider's connection with Africa. The South African vocal harmony band Africapella and singer Ayanda Nhlangothi embody this connection. The London Session Orchestra, consisting of musicians from the Royal Symphonic
Orchestra under the direction of James McWilliam, filled out the sound.
Renowned British producer and arranger Peter Vettese is responsible for most of the orchestration. The recordings took place at Andreas' Lakeside Studios in Switzerland, as well as at SABC Studios in Johannesburg, South Africa, and finally at the legendary Abbey Road Studios in London. Andy Wright's long-time sound engineer Gavin Goldberg has set new sonic standards for Vollenweider's music
with his work, and is able to delight even the most discerning audiophiles with a punchy yet transparent, dynamic soundscape.

Auf dem dritten Album von Ghost Funk Orchestra klingt jeder Song wie der Soundtrack zu einer Szene aus einem imaginären Film. Die Musik könnte einem romantischen Drama, einem Action-Thriller oder einer modernen Variante eines klassischen Film Noir entstammen. Der sparsame, kaskadenartige Gesang unterstreicht die üppige instrumentale Orchestrierung, komponiert, gespielt, arrangiert und produziert von Multi-Instrumentalist Seth Applebaum. Er nutzt die klanglichen Mittel der Exotica aus der Mitte des vergangenen Jahrhunderts und die der prägnanten Pop-Orchester, die die Hitparaden der 60er und frühen 70er Jahre dominierten. Er vermischt Eindrücke aus dieser vergangenen Ära mit dem Ausdruck seiner aktuellen Erfahrungen als junger Filmemacher im 21. Jahrhundert, wobei er Einflüsse wie Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings und Antibalas aufgreift. A New Kind of Love referenziert die Vergangenheit, ohne zu versuchen, sie nachzubilden. Das 10-köpfige Ghost Funk Orchestra erweckt sein Material zum Leben und läutet mit diesem anspruchsvollen Werk die neue Ära der Band ein.

For Fans Of Temples, Allah-Las, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Khruangbin, David Axelrod. Each song on Ghost Funk Orchestra's 3rd album, A New Kind of Love, due to be released on Colemine Records … 2022, resonates like the soundtrack to a scene from an imaginary movie. The music could score a romantic drama, an action thriller, or a modern twist on a classic film noir. The spare, cascading vocals accentuate the lush instrumental orchestrations composed, performed, arranged and produced by multi-instrumentalist Seth Applebaum, whose latest brainchild was conceived and conceptualized during The Great Pause of 2020, a time of tension, bewilderment and isolation. Evoking the grooviness of an era which preceded his arrival on earth, Applebaum draws upon sonic devices of mid-century exotica and the succinct but dense arranging style of the leaders of the pop orchestras which dominated the hit parades of the 60s and early 70s. He blends impressions of this bygone era with an expression of his actual experiences as a young filmmaker coming of age in the 21st century, citing influences such as Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings and Antibalas. A New Kind of Love encompasses a reverence for the past without attempting to recreate it. In the tradition of the "production forward" discographies of such record makers as David Axelrod and the Mizell Brothers, it's easy to visualize Applebaum as a "mad doctor" figure, hunkered down in a studio channeling this musical representation of his inner world into the 12 compositions which make up A New Kind of Love. His writing stretches his psyche to explore a terrain in which to capture emotional notes of love going well, love gone sour, manifesting love songs based in ghostly affairs. While the studio is obviously a wondrous happy place of experimentation and creativity for Applebaum, he's a band guy too (having actually fronted punk outfit The Mad Doctors). Applebaum has the wherewithal to bring his dreamy material to the 10 piece all star Ghost Funk Orchestra, leading them to breathe life into this sophisticated body of work which heralds the celebration of a new era for the group. Ghost Funk Orchestra will be touring in concert this summer and fall to celebrate the release of A New Kind of Love, an album which is sure to stand the test of time. Also Available From Ghost Funk Orch: Night Walker/Death Waltz LP/CD, Opaque Red LP, An Ode To Escapism LP/CD, A Song For Paul LP / CD 1. Introduction 2. Your Man's No Good 3. Scatter 4. Prism 5. Quiet Places 6. A New Kind Of Love (pt. 1) 7. Why? 8. Blockhead 9. A Song For Pearl 10. Bluebell 11. Rooted 12. A New Kind Of Love (pt. 2)

NNAMDÏ has never been able to stay in one place. The Chicago
multi-instrumentalist and songwriter set a blistering pace in 2020
with his critically acclaimed genre-fusing LP, ‘Brat’, a punk EP,
‘Black Plight’, and ‘Krazy Karl’, a full-length tribute to Looney
Tunes composer Carl Stalling. Add in his role as co-owner of label
Sooper Records, as well as recent tours with Wilco, SleaterKinney and black midi, and it’s an overwhelming schedule.
 However, his latest album, ‘Please Have A Seat’, is the result of a
much needed pause. “I realized I never take time to just sit and
take in where I’m at,” says NNAMDÏ. “It’s just nice to not be on
‘Go, Go, Go!’ mode, and re-evaluate where I wanted to go
musically.” This period of reflection allowed him to take stock of his
life and his relationships. “I wanted to be present,” he says. “Each
song came from a moment of clarity.” ‘Please Have A Seat’ serves
as an invitation to listen. It’s a request to sit down, be present, and
take in a moment. With this quiet introspection, NNAMDÏ found
inspiration in silence and nuance.
 While making the record, he decided to stretch the limits of his pop
songwriting: every track had to be hummable. Though he’s written
earworms throughout his career from playing in bands in
Chicago’s DIY community or releasing goofy raps as Nnamdi’s
Sooper Dooper Secret Side Project, here, his shapeshifting hooks
are undeniable. Each of the album’s fourteen songs, which
NNAMDÏ wrote, produced, and performed entirely himself, are
relentlessly re-playable, careening into unexpected and
disorienting places. With NNAMDÏ’s singular vision, ‘Please Have
A Seat’ is yet another leap from Chicago’s hardest working
musician. By taking a minute to sit down and catch his breath, he
re-emerged with the most ambitious, accessible, and nuanced
work of his career.
 Coloured vinyl LP format pressed on Walnut Brown vinyl.

Following on from last year’s acclaimed Sylva Sylvarum, the epic double LP from Ora Clementi (her collaborative project with James Rushford), crys cole returns to Black Truffle with Other Meetings. Originally commissioned and released on cassette by Boomkat Editions in 2021, Other Meetings is a major addition to the body of carefully hewn solo work cole has released over the last decade, offering up two side-long suites of her radically intimate approach to sound. After many years dominated by touring and travel, cole found herself in lockdown in her Berlin apartment, working in a limited space with minimal equipment. Digging through archives of recordings taken overseas and exploring the sonic potential hidden in the objects surrounding her (including a coffee pot and a vase of dying flowers), she crafted what in her liner notes she calls ‘an internal dérive, a journey that drifted through many places without a defining compass’. Totalling over 50 minutes, the two pieces unfold at an unhurried pace, each containing four individually titled subsections. Beginning with a sequence of the highly amplified small sounds characteristic of much of cole’s work, the opening moments of ‘The time between two durations of sleep’ are underpinned by a gentle rocking motion, weaving together contact mic crunch, metallic resonance, glimpses of bird song, and isolated drum machine hits, the sonic space expanding and contracting as focus moves between elements. Briefly side-lined by a tactile but unplaceable sizzling, this complex weave of voices then returns in a kind of dubbed-out ‘version’, the percussive accents echoing around the stereo space. In one of the record’s most beautiful and unexpected moments, these sounds are joined by a sparse melodic line performed on a broken 1980s digital synth, the vaguely New Age timbres being taken on a long, tonally ambiguous wander. Cole’s immersion in memories of travel comes to the fore in the final section of the first side, titled ‘Wat Paknam’ after a royal temple in Bangkok, where snatches of voices, ringing bells and distant waves of chanting blur together with synth tones into an increasingly abstracted wave of sound. The second side, ‘Slices of cake’, opens in a similarly hallucinatory outdoor space of echoing bird song and liquified traffic before abruptly zooming in on a microscopic world of subtly processed and highly amplified objects, explored with a starkness and quiet insistence that calls to mind the fringe not-quite-concrète of outsiders like Paul A.R. Timmermans or Knud Viktor, whose obsessive interrogation of dripping water might also serve as a point of reference for the following sub-section, the aptly titled ‘magischer Abfluss’ (magic drain).

While Other Meetings develops many aspects of cole’s previous work – the hyper-magnification of small gestures, the unsettling edits and fades partly inspired by hypnagogic states, the location recordings smeared into oneiric haze – it is almost as if these pieces are somehow songs, the remnants of an evaporated music of which nothing remains except isolated hits from a synthetic drum, a handful of notes, or simply a duration of emptied atmosphere. Radically reductive yet deeply musical, Other Meetings is a major work from an artist driven by an uncompromising and idiosyncratic vision.

Presented with an inner sleeve with photos and liner notes from the composer and remastered audio.

Stólar label boss Philipp Priebe delivers his new album ‘Apparent Calm Palms’ this October, joining
the roster of Mainz/Hamburg, Germany’s Feuilleton.
Berlin-based artist Philipp Priebe has been steadily making his mark on the contemporary deep hazy
house and leftfield electronica scene over the past few years with a series of releases on his own
Stólar imprint. Here though we see him deliver his second album following his debut LP ‘The Being Of
The Beautiful’ released on Japan’s IL Y A Records back in 2014. Feuilleton is the brainchild of Chris
Gruber (Fossar) and Tim Eder and since 2018 has unveiled material from the duo themselves, RR
(René Raabe), Snad, Gari Romalis, Melina, Jakob Seidensticker and more.
Throughout the ‘Apparent Calm Palms’ LP Priebe delivers a concoction of styles and sounds cohesively fused together to form the bigger concept which is he tells us is ‘’an album about small towns and
villages and the needs and desires that brings one night out in clubs. The transport/travel, the preparty, all the things that you had to do, when you are not directly living in the big party places, but still
want to have a decent night out, away from your usual suspects.’’.
Throughout the ten-track LP Philipp delivers ethereal deep house with opening track ‘Desires’, the
succeeding ‘Interborough’ and ‘Chimera’, murky dub house leaning cuts like ‘Quiet Decay’, ‘Slalom’, ‘
Unfold’ and ‘Conclusions’ while ‘Transfiguration’ showcases a more classic Chicago House influence.
Title-track ‘Apparent Calm Palms’ and the interlude ‘Behind Their House’ then see Priebe offer a foray
into textural ambient sounds, once again showcasing his unique ability to craft raw, understated and
emotion fuelled material across a variety of genres.
Mastering by Sven Weisemann and Lacquer Cut by Stefan Betk

NNAMDÏ has never been able to stay in one place. The Chicago
multi-instrumentalist and songwriter set a blistering pace in 2020
with his critically acclaimed genre-fusing LP, ‘Brat’, a punk EP,
‘Black Plight’, and ‘Krazy Karl’, a full-length tribute to Looney
Tunes composer Carl Stalling. Add in his role as co-owner of label
Sooper Records, as well as recent tours with Wilco, SleaterKinney and black midi, and it’s an overwhelming schedule.
 However, his latest album, ‘Please Have A Seat’, is the result of a
much needed pause. “I realized I never take time to just sit and
take in where I’m at,” says NNAMDÏ. “It’s just nice to not be on
‘Go, Go, Go!’ mode, and re-evaluate where I wanted to go
musically.” This period of reflection allowed him to take stock of his
life and his relationships. “I wanted to be present,” he says. “Each
song came from a moment of clarity.” ‘Please Have A Seat’ serves
as an invitation to listen. It’s a request to sit down, be present, and
take in a moment. With this quiet introspection, NNAMDÏ found
inspiration in silence and nuance.
 While making the record, he decided to stretch the limits of his pop
songwriting: every track had to be hummable. Though he’s written
earworms throughout his career from playing in bands in
Chicago’s DIY community or releasing goofy raps as Nnamdi’s
Sooper Dooper Secret Side Project, here, his shapeshifting hooks
are undeniable. Each of the album’s fourteen songs, which
NNAMDÏ wrote, produced, and performed entirely himself, are
relentlessly re-playable, careening into unexpected and
disorienting places. With NNAMDÏ’s singular vision, ‘Please Have
A Seat’ is yet another leap from Chicago’s hardest working
musician. By taking a minute to sit down and catch his breath, he
re-emerged with the most ambitious, accessible, and nuanced
work of his career.
 Coloured vinyl LP format pressed on Walnut Brown vinyl.