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Vic Bang's "Oda" arrives quietly - it was waiting for the right moment. The eight tracks are shaped by listening, by circling around sound instead of chasing it... you can definitely hear patience in the pacing, a willingness to let ideas linger, to let all the small motifs breathe.

The album moves with a softer and more deliberate rhythm than much of Vic's earlier work, as the sound world here feels concentrated and cohesive, built from a limited set of elements that gradually reveal themselves. Melodies unfold without too much fuss, textures repeat and mutate very subtly and the whole record holds together like a single extended thought.

The title Oda - or "ode" in English - hints at devotion, but not in any grand or ceremonial way. These pieces seem devoted to sound itself: to tone, to gesture, to fragile and simple musical forms. There's a gentle melancholy running through the album, but also clarity, even tenderness. Each track is dedicated to something - a timbre, a rhythm, a resonance - living up to the title's etymology.

All Music composed by Victoria Barca in Buenos Aires, Argentina, between 2024 and 2025.

Saxophone (3) by Camila Nebbia
Vocal samples by Catu Hardoy and Nicolás Said
Cello samples by Gabriela Areal

Mastered by Adam Badi Donoval

Front cover relief "Endulzando el oído" by Victoria Barca
Back cover photo by Indira Seoane
Design and layout by Paulina Ufnal and Janek Ufnal

Pioen is the second album by Elisabeth Klinck & Nils Vermeulen, released on blickwinkel. It was recorded in a small chapel of a monastery in the city center of Ghent. A chapel by nature is a place of contemplation and meditation, which automatically had influence on the music. Movements slow down, attention is sharpened and the overwhelming silence of the space becomes part of the music. Sound and silence are meticulously woven into each other. Even when the music grows at times dense and heavy, there is an ever-present sense of closeness and intimacy. This is reinforced by the use of the voice, which naturally appears throughout the album, not as a separate layer but as an extension of the instruments.

The pieces – this time more curated than on their previous album Pair, Paire – arose from hours-long improvisations where sound became space and space became sound. Bringing together violin, double bass and voice, Pioen unfolds as a serene and honest journey, inviting the listener into a state of contemplation.

Elisabeth Klinck is a contemporary violinist, composer and performer based in Brussels, known or her timeless, deep-listening sound worlds. Her album Picture a Frame (2023) and Chronotopia - selected by The Quietus as one of the best albums of 2025 - were released on the Swiss label Hallow Ground. A big part of her work revolves around tactility, fragility, and a very physical approaches to sound.

Nils Vermeulen is a Belgian double bass player active in all varieties of adventurous music. He has played with Paul Lytton, Martin Küchen, Seppe Gebruers, William Parker, John Dikeman, Luis Vicente, among others. He works across many scenes, from free improv to jazz to contemporary classical music, and in many distinct constellations, such as his own groups Kabas and Jukwaa, a Norwegian free jazz trio with Tollef Østvang and Heidi Kvelvane, a string duo with Elisabeth Klinck, and as the double bassplayer of Nemo ensemble. In 2023, he released his debut solo album on Aspen Edities.

Pink Must is the duo project by Brooklyn based sound artists and musicians Mari 'More Eaze' Rubio and Lynn Avery. This self titled album is the debut release under the Pink Must umbrella.

Based on a long-standing artistic chemistry and shared love of genre-defying sounds, Pink Must started off as a remote grunge collaboration, with demos shared long-distance between New York and Texas. Over time, and especially since uniting in Brooklyn in 2023, the project evolved into its own animated soundspace, connecting raw imperfect textures with classic songwriting and a playful approach to both track instrumentation and lyrics.

The duo's production blends richness, glitches, and dissonant layers with drum and string arrangements in ways that subtly hint at influences like Stina Nordenstam and PJ Harvey. The record is tangled yet direct: fictional sketches of various situations, songs about love, change, decay, and even Mari's dog, Keith—all wrapped in signature guitar dreams and deadpan vocal lines.

Sundays is the debut full length from Oakland-based Tanukichan, aka multi-instrumentalist Hannah van Loon. At surface level, the album sounds just how the title describes: hazy, dreamy, reflective, just like a lazy Sunday afternoon. Upon second and third listens, the dreamy music unveils a deeper world: an ever present sense of longing, an endless state of summer and a period of instability that plagues us all at one point or another in our lives.
Raised in San Francisco, van Loon started out making classical, bluegrass and jazz music as well as playing in numerous bands in the area before deciding to make something more personal. What started with a few unfocused demos, with van Loon playing all the instruments herself in her house, became a studio experience and viable collection of music after her friend Anthony Ferraro of Astronauts, Etc. introduced her to Company Records founder Chaz Bear (Toro Y Moi, Les Sins). After collaborating on her 2016 EP Radiolove, van Loon and Bear set out to make a much more sonically cohesive release, with both the producer and artist playing all the instruments on the record. The result is a slice of dream pop that could only come from the combination of the laid back atmosphere of California and the nostalgic and often difficult memories that are generally associated with coming of age.
To van Loon, the tracks of Sundays are a form of contemplation and approaching life’s issues from a different and less complicated perspective. “Sometimes for me, it feels easier to write songs about things than to talk. A lot of things in life are layered and paradoxical, but with songs it always seems simpler.”
Opening track “Lazy Love” sets the stage, sonically and lyrically, for the rest of the album, combining vulnerable lyrics with gorgeous, fuzzy tones. Above pummeling synths and guitar tones, van Loon sings “you know I'd do anything/don't you know I try my best/if I could wake up when the sun is rising” showing the album’s constant theme of balancing always wanting to be the best person you can be, while also feeling a low level joy at letting life play out as it wants to. “Natural” is a track that feels perfect for a road trip, a track that hums away with a driving beat, culminating in the sheer excitement of finally having a night alone with someone you’ve loved for a while, among many highs and lows: “a window too bright/it's natural sunlight/grey fades to white lie/kiss you tonight/it's natural delight/help me feel right.” The tracks collectively address a deep rooted sense of yearning for someone, something new, while also feeling content with your life; a realization that maybe the places you’ve always belonged aren’t where you should be anymore, that suddenly you might be looking for something completely different.
“I settled on the name Sundays as the title of the record because it encapsulated how the record felt to me,“ van Loon says. “I was thinking about the laziness, and dreamy clarity that you can feel after a late night, waking up having to face the world with a new perspective.” Sundays encapsulates this feeling, a nostalgic way of looking at the world, waking up feeling like a slightly different person than before, looking back on life, not sure if you can tackle what’s next, but doing your best, day in and day out

Rick James Blends Brazen Attitude, Fearless Sexuality, and Shrewd Charisma on Street Songs:

Punk-Funk Album Aims for the Hips and Head, Includes the Timeless Hit “Super Freak”
Sourced from the Original Master Tapes and Strictly Limited to 4,000 Numbered Copies:

Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Presents 1981 Smash in Audiophile Sound for the First Time
1/4” / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe


“Punk funk” was a relatively unknown concept before 1981. But once Street Songs took the charts by storm that year, the world soon knew about what became Rick James’ signature style. And how. True to its name, Street Songs blends outspoken sexuality, brazen attitude, and edgy commentary amid contagious R&B-fueled arrangements that simultaneously aim for the hips, head, and various nether regions. And it’s never sounded better.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents James’ platinum-certified effort in audiophile quality for the first time. Playing with crisp dynamics, lively textures, airy headroom, and revealing clarity, this collectible edition of the record that stayed at the No. 1 spot on the R&B Album Charts for 20 weeks invites you to get closer to music that beckons you to turn your space into a private dance floor.

Then again, you’ll likely be so taken by how the taut bass lines, snappy rhythms, and four-on-the-floor beats — all rendered in stunning detail and with full-bodied architecture — come across with such accuracy and presence, you might stay pinned to your seat. On this pressing, the soundstaging, imaging, and lit-fuse energy of Street Songs reach new heights. Everything from the rubbery feel of the guitar lines to the depth of James’ temperature-raising vocals to the scale of the horn charts emerges as if James and his ace session crew set up in your room.

The Buffalo native and his ensemble waste no time getting their message across. On the album-opening “Give It to Me Baby,” James and company lay down a mix of sleek funk and pulsing disco that practically activates the bright lights of a discotheque and stimulates the libido of anyone within earshot. Having reached No. 1 on the Billboard Hot Soul charts, the song is pure sex — and just one of the carnal delights on a record that embraces the subject as fearlessly as James does his identity.

Of course, the most famous of James’ erotic excursions — the timeless “Super Freak” — hit No. 1 on Hot Dance Club Play charts, No. 16 on the Hot 100, and, later, No. 153 on Rolling Stone’s list of the Top 500 Songs of All Time. Bolstered by a quavering keyboard theme and electro riffs, the much-sampled track worms itself inside your muscles with smile-inducing subject matter, gliding vocals, nimble movements, a hot tenor-saxophone solo, and backing vocals by the Temptations.

The iconic Motown group isn’t the only celebrated guest artist on the Grammy-nominated Street Songs. James’ then-labelmate, Stevie Wonder, lends harmonica to the frank sociopolitical narrative on “Mr. Policeman,” a protest tune that also manages to stroll ’n’ strut via simmering organ, staggering brass accents, and James’ gritty vocal performance. In addition to contributing backing vocals on several cuts, Teena Marie turns in one of the album’s signature moments on “Fire and Desire,” a romantic old-school duet with James that impresses with smoothness, sensitivity, and smokiness.

High-profile colleagues aside, James remains the undisputed star, a figure whose leather-and-latex attire, braided hair, and natural swagger made him misunderstood by some in the mainstream and embraced by everyone in the know as a true original. As a testament to his magnetism and skills, his charisma and rawness seemingly seep through every note, whether on the balladic sweep of the risqué “Make Love to Me” or strident, poke-and-prod persuasion of the moonwalking “Call Me Up.”

On the closing “Below the Funk (Pass the J),” an uptempo autobiographical tale that addresses the visionary musician’s second-favorite love, the singer acknowledges his upbringing and inseparable connection with his roots — an homage to where he began and a toast to where he’s gone.

Rick James, keepin’ it real on Street Songs, still as real as it gets.

Impatience is thrilled to present Leaving Memory, the latest album-length work by Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova. Leaving Memory is a searing distillation of the duo’s ouevre - it’s eleven prismatic electronic seances combining for a mind warping wormhole with it’s own internal (il)llogic, where pop, ambient, and industrial music convene beneath a rugged HD of digital processing and brain fog. Equally rosy with nostalgia as it is ominously forward looking, Leaving Memory defies easy categorization and makes for an astounding, confounding listen.

By turns violently abrasive and disarmingly touching, Piper and Lena deploy sounds that fracture and disintegrate, burn up and explode, synthetic supernovas that give the record an unmistakable, inimitable texture. Song structures often abide by their own blueprint - heading in one direction before making an abrupt dive elsewhere. Bursts of vibrant colour lurk below layers of grayscale noise. Unidentifiable voices deliver secret messages from the murk. When rhythm’s emerge they ground the tracks to some unknown terrain and invigorate.

Lame Line veers towards the sweeter end of their spectrum, a hazy plaintive repetition increasingly lashed with friction, before Exit erupts with clanging rhythm and shards of distortion. Diagnosis is an almost sweet alt-pop song, Lena’s vocals yearning beneath a dubby shuffle, while Keeper Of The Void’s possessed incantations open up to a ripping, fried climax. Beryl Grey releases the pressure gauge, a gently lilting drift arpeggiating as the sun sets, and Lost Cars sweats through claustrophobic drones and bird song before the clouds part on a serene scene. Leaving Memory closes with Shin, offering a genuinely sweet resolution and a gentle landing back down to earth of either footsteps or fireworks, swelling synthesized horns and woodwinds, a kiss on the cheek for making it out the other side.

On Leaving Memory, Piper Spray & Lena Tsibizova share their uniquely discordant take on freaky music for unsettled minds, an intensely energized set that offers a deeply evocative, unimaginable otherworld for adventurous ears.

Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova have been producing music together since 2020. Leaving Memory is the first to be presented in the LP format. Piper has previously released music via Orange Milk, Hausu Mountain and Gost Zvuk, as well as his own Singapore Sling Tapes label. Lena works predominantly as a photographer, and together Piper and Lena have released music via radio.syg.ma and Kartaskvazhin. Both make music as part of Air Krew, who have released music on the Echotourist and Motion Ward labels. They’re both currently based nowhere.

Leaving Memory was written, produced and mixed by Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova, and mastered by Sergey Podluzhniy. Cover photo by Lena Tsibizova, design and layout by Justin Sloane.

Don’t believe your ears - Pepper’s Ghost is the latest offering from NYC project Nuke Watch.

Whatever you think it is - it is not. By the same token it really can be whatever you want - electronica, jazz, improv, noise, new age, ambient - it’s none and all of these. Like the primitive visual illusion it’s named for - Pepper’s Ghost is a projection of a thing, it’s not the thing.

The Nuke Watch method - like that of Aaron Anderson and Chris Hontos’ other primary project Beat Detectives - leans almost entirely on live improvisation, with some advanced studio alchemy in post. Where the Beat Detectives palette draws from club music tropes, Nuke Watch blends recognizable tones (hand drums, woodwinds, keys, fretless bass) with sounds of providence unknown, the line between organic and synthesized instrumentation unintelligibly smudged. What is real and what is projection? It’s hard to say. What do our ears tell us? This is where we arrive at Pepper’s Ghost.

Warped as the sounds may be, the playing belies a crew of deeply expressive, learned improvisers who have their craft honed. Their friendship and psychic connection enhances the ritualistic rhythms, mutant modular synthesis, nimble keyboard runs, absurdist sampling and unidentified skronk. They’re wonderfully complemented across several tracks on this set by Cole Pulice’s levitational, sublime saxophone.

As unhinged as this might all appear, once the mind and music meet on the same wavelength this is profoundly moving, energizing and uplifting Alive Music that recalibrates the sense of what music can be.

Nuke Watch is Aaron Anderson and Chris Hontos, with an array of friendly guests. They’ve released records as Nuke Watch on The Trilogy Tapes, Commend and Moon Glyph. As Beat Detectives they’ve released records on Not Not Fun, 100% Silk and their own studio imprint NYPD Records.

Pepper's Ghost was written and produced by Aaron Anderson and Chris Hontos. Additional instrumentation on these recordings by Cole Police, Leonard King, Eric Timothy Carlson, Chris Farstad and William Statler. It was mixed by Chris Hontos and mastered by Jack Callahan. Painting on the cover is “The Unity Of Being” (2020), by Ry Fyan. Design and layout by Aaron Anderson.

RIYL - Musical illusions, puzzles and magic tricks, downtempo, music of the spheres, good journey, Eddie Harris, Ketron, "world building", orange sunshine, suspension of disbelief.

SAM GOKU (Permanent Vacation / Dekmantel / Atomnation)
Paryìa marks its eighth release with Sam Goku, whose contribution showcases not only the creative depth of his dreamy side but also just how club-ready his tracks can be. Rooted in shimmering house and techno yet fluid across a wider spectrum, both Sam Goku’s sets and productions strike a balance between effortless buoyancy
and intricate depth. A distinctive sound that seamlessly blends elements of his roots with everything dance music lovers cherish: richly textured layers, hypnotic repetition, and a subtle sense of unpredictability. This balance is also reflected in his EP on Dekmantel (2024) and Permanent Vacation (2025), shaping a sound that is instantly recognisable and quietly enduring.

"Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively-clean minimalist punk. Singer Dan Shaw started Landowner in 2016, writing and recording the project's debut Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Shaw's initial concept was a made-up genre called “weak d-beat”, meant to sound intentionally absurd “as if Antelope were reading the sheet music of Discharge”. When Shaw joined with his current bandmates in 2017, they translated these early experiments in restraint, minimalism, and caricatured hardcore as a live band. This provided Landowner with its own unique set of blueprints: the guitars “slap hard” without using any distortion or effects, the rhythm section is tight, fast, and repetitious, and the song structures make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems and dark absurdities our lives are tangled in. Comparisons could be made to The Fall, Lungfish, or Uranium Club, but across their five albums, they make it clear: Landowner just sound like Landowner.

Assumption is the band's fifth album. Sonically, it captures the vibrancy and intensity of their live performances. The album title “Assumption” encapsulates the album's multi-layered themes. We make assumptions, taking in information online through an overload of decontextualized snippets and headlines, and then quickly form conclusions, or we allow artificial intelligence to do the thinking for us. Assumption is the sound of a band that established its own musical identity and has reached a place of tightness with an ease gained from years of playing together, sounding mechanically precise and at the same time fully human. It may be the band's most cohesive and fully realized work to date."

Written during a period of geographic and artistic transition, Country Music traces Severin Black’s movement from London to Berlin, unfolding through cycles of isolation and adaptation. Composed on the city’s periphery, the album’s material was continually dismantled and reassembled, reflecting a process of both artistic and personal reconstruction. The album marks a shift in production methodology, moving away from the immediacy of summed live takes toward a more deliberate, stratified multitrack approach. Sparse yet hypnotic, the record distills layers of sound formed by constant relocation, recurrent solitude, and a recalibration of instinct. In many ways, it echoes the experience of exile, not in a political sense but in the quieter, more insidious form of displacement that alters one’s perception of time and self. The music drifts between structure and dissolution, a reflection of existing at the threshold of different spaces—both physically and sonically.

The shedding of the previously used Nape moniker signaled a decisive sonic transformation, informed by extended time spent in the Pyrenees and a renewed engagement with folkloric material. Severin began playing the clarinet while making this record, and though its presence is minimal, it reveals itself as an interest in acoustic simulation, particularly the digital approximations of classical instruments that emerged within 1990s synthesizer technology. This interrogation of authenticity and mediation parallels the album’s thematic engagement with memory, where recollection functions not as a retrieval of fixed experience but as an iterative process of distortion and reconstruction. The relocation to Berlin reignited an affinity for grime music, evident in the syncopated brass of Pilgrim Wine and the fractured vocal layers of March, while memories of childhood in rural Wales permeate the record’s atmospheric spaces. The album includes contributions from longtime collaborator Vanessa Bedoret and Berlin-based artist Pavel Milyakov (Buttechno).

Country Music situates itself within an unresolved dialogue—between past and speculative futures, between folk lineage and digital fragmentation, between place and its embodied and sonic traces. What emerges is not a fixed statement but a process, an ongoing negotiation between what is left behind and what is brought forward. Words by Chantal Michelle

Mastered by Owen Pratt / Design by Severin Black / Center label image by Nicky Kidd / Back cover text by Alya Kanıbelli

West Mineral returns with lushly amorphous actions by Shiner, Pontiac Streator & Ben Bondy aka Shinetiac; together fused for an immersive flux of vapoured dub, chopped and droned Billie Eilish, and fidgety algorithmic jams.

There's not a single, specific sound you can peg to the West Mineral axis at this stage in the label’s evolution - it's rather a set of shared aesthetics that freely bend into various interconnected shapes. Shinetiac's contemptuous, critic-baiting gear is the ideal example; on their last album, 2023's 'Not All Who Wander Are Lost', skittery, ketamized IDM sparkled over Spice Girls samples and the Foo Fighters' 'Everlong' was transmuted into Sneaker Pimps-style trip-hop. 'Infiltrating Roku City' might be a little less blatant with its out-and-out poptimism, but it takes a similarly dim view of conservative "big ambient" snobbishness. Just a few minutes of 'Bluemosa' should be enough to let you know what's up; the overall character of the sound is hazed, with frozen pads and garbled, dubbed-out voices smudged into a mess of effects and samples. But it sups up different nuances as it wriggles, absorbing scampering breaks, dizzy acoustic guitar strums and half-heard wordless vocals, flipping in the third act to emerge from its shell as minimalist balearic folk-pop - something like Bon Iver doing 'Electric Counterpoint'.

Brooklyn's Shiner, Philly's Pontiac Streator and Berlin-based Ben Bondy navigate the labyrinthine streaming landscape, guided by their own private experiences of mindless doom-scrolling and cruising the darkest corners of YouTube. They formulated 'Infiltrating Roku City' while they were rehearsing last year and spent the winter stitching together various recordings and jams into a layered, dry-witted commentary on our algorithmic reality. Laden with inside jokes and refried memes, it's surprisingly elegant gear; handling the most unseemly elements like sonic recyclers, earnestly repurposing pop and nostalgia to create an atmospheric echo of contemporary reality.

Screwing Chief Keef's enduring 'Citgo', 'Clublyfe (hulu)' emphasises the original's AFX-pilled euphoria with Robert Miles-style piano hits, replacing Young Ravisu's brittle 128kbps trap rhythm with a glitchy rattle that picks up dembow spikes as it rolls. 'I Hate Being Sober' vaporises the Chicago drill pioneer's 'Hate Bein' Sober', blocking out his voice with glitchy, downsampled interference and elasticated Rhodes. The trio team up with Orange Milk's goo age on the sublime 'Crisis Angel', catching a ray of Malibu's sunshine in the process, and reduce Billie Eilish's voice to a Romance-does-Celine cinder on 'Billie', stretching it to fit next to gassed Future ad-libs and swooping 808 Mafia sub womps. And although the album takes a murky diversion on 'Roku Axes Ultra’, and a cloud-stepping centrepiece ‘Purelink’ in homage to the eponymous dubbed ambient dynamos, it's back on course with 'Jiafei (NETFLIX)', taking aim at TikTok bot videos and welding screams from Florida metal band Underoath to AI-strength vocal curlicues.

Ross Mvnro delivers a carefully curated, moody 4-track Electro-House release for GC Records' second instalment.

Deep, rolling basslines, robotic samples & progressive layers delivered straight from his analog studio in Newcastle, Australia.

Yamila presents her second album on Umor Rex, Noor. Following Visions, Yamila returns with a work that merges nature-experience listening with expansive musicality. Noor was born from her time in an ecologist community, where she sought refuge in stillness, learned from animals, and tried to forget the human. In this communion with nature, she discovered a new compositional approach: reducing acoustic noise to allow unheard voices to emerge, transforming music into a possibility for interspecies dialogue.

Since ancient times, sound has been used to care for herds, to call across distances, to communicate with the non-human. Noor reimagines that ancestral role in a contemporary language, where epic harmonies collide with delicate micro-tonalities, and where rhythm unfolds not only as pulse but as movement for the body, a natural extension of Yamila’s work with dance companies and choreographers.

Her voice is interwoven with electronics and the resonant strings of Echo Collective, creating sonic landscapes that radiate intensity and fragility. At times monumental, at others almost whispered, Noor oscillates between composition and spontaneity, structure and suspension.

The album unfurls as a dialogue between the organic and the artificial, where sound grows like a sprout breaking through hard soil. Yamila’s music here is not only to be heard, but to be inhabited: a choreography of air, vibration, and resonance. Noor is both shelter and revelation, a reminder that music can still be epic, luminous, and deeply human, while listening beyond the human.

All music and voices by Yamila Ríos. Recorded at Destelheide by Christophe Albertijn. Strings by Trio Echo Collective (Violin: Margaret Hermant, Viola: Neil Leiter), (Cello: Stijn Kuppens), (Arrangements: Pierre Slinckx). Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studio, NY. Photos by Assiah Alcázar. Design & layout by Daniel Castrejón.

Directions Out Of Town is the latest and teased as (possibly) the last LP by DIY electronic abstract pop wizard Finlay Shakespeare.

Directions Out Of Town is a fierce mix of headstrong pop bangers. Fact. There is simply no one else traversing the field that Shakespeare is exploring. It can be lonely in the desert, Simon says. Lyrically, Directions Out Of Town is dealing with loss; personally, geographically, politically, culturally - a general decay of everything.

This new record is heavily inspired by structural film where the results unravel a method where metaphor is removed from the act of sound synthesis, production and mix of the tracks. Fiercely independent and brimming with integrity this is a deeply effective journey through machines of the human experience.

The track titles are telling: 'Away', 'Get', 'Direction', 'I go for a walk', etc

This is sentiment via complex synthesis wrung through patterns of pop. One also finds ways out that only turn out to be false/untrue.

"I essentially don't know where I belong any more. This record is the precursor to that."

What is ostensibly an electro pop record reveals a multitude of layers and depth as one man and his machines wrestle with the reality of this tangled matrix. If the charts had brains this would be album of the year.

Finlay Shakespeare is an electronic musician working in the UK. His fascination for synthesized sound was born out of his parents' record collection, leading him to explore the electronic music of decades past throughout his teenage years. While starting to write and record his own tracks, he also began learning analogue electronics, which led him to design and build his own equipment. To date, he has released work on Editions Mego, Superpang, and his own GOTO Records.

The fourth edition in the label’s compilation series brings together an almost entirely new cohort of ten artists from across the globe. Personal means of expression are archived side by side, coming to light in the form of sparse amorphous percussion, layered voices, restless arpeggios and undulating, heavily filtered soundscapes.

All digital and physical proceeds from this edition go towards Medical Aid For Palestine and the Lebanese Red Cross.

Mastered by Kinn. Design by Severin Black.

The mystic duo SB&C, laying low amongst the stone circles of the Scottish Highlands send a message out to the cosmos with remixes from Orgue Electronique and Legowelt. 12" hit of black space, limited run, download code, no digital without the physical, no streaming and no repress.

Alex Rex, the project of acclaimed musician and former Trembling Bells bandleader Alex Neilson, is set to release his fourth and final studio album, The National Trust, on March 28th. Written in the wake of the sudden death of his younger brother, Alastair, the album is a poignant reflection on loss, love, and renewal, deeply rooted in the landscape of Carbeth—a cabin community in the Scottish countryside that Alastair called home. For Neilson, the cabin became both a physical and emotional project, a symbol of restoration and reconnection.

"For the first four years after Alastair died, his cabin lay empty and exposed to the remorseless Scottish weather. It came to look like a rotten tooth in a beautiful mouth. Cladding was dropping off its veneer, the ashen baubles of dead wasps nests clung to the rafters, all his possessions were just as he'd left them but eaten by mice, moths and time. Ashtrays still carried the crushed centimetres of his old tab ends. The cabins are so joyfully animated by their host's specific personality and this one looked like a haunted house. Guilt, unrealised hopes and encroaching nature yoked together in a wandering sadness. Combined with the fact that I didn't know the right way round to hold a hammer made the project of its restoration seem hopeless.”

Neilson, however, gradually began chipping away at the task, determined to transform the cabin into something he hoped would resemble “a National Trust site occupied by a psychopath,” with a little help from some friends, including Lavinia Blackwall and Marco Rea.

“They poured love into the cabin and helped restore Alastair's original vision. The project also helped restore my relationship with Lavinia which had fractured after Trembling Bells broke up in 2017. Alongside long-term Rex lieutenant Rory Haye, we applied the same intensity of dedication that we did in renovating the cabin, into creating The National Trust.”

As with Neilson’s previous albums, the recording process was intentionally unpolished, with songs presented in the studio with no rehearsals and captured in just a few takes. This raw, immediate approach amplifies the emotional weight of the album, which Neilson describes as being at a “personal apex of sour self-reflection, mock misanthropy, and self-exposure.” Longtime collaborators Lavinia Blackwall, Marco Rea, and Rory Haye return, alongside guest musicians like Jill O’Sullivan (Jill Lorean) and Trembling Bells guitarist Mike Hastings, to bring Neilson’s vision to life. The result is a deeply personal and multifaceted work, blending acid wit with haunting introspection.

The songs on The National Trust traverse a wide emotional and thematic range. The title track opens the album with a sharp and confessional edge, exploring love, loathing, and cultural critique with Neilson’s signature wit. “Boss Morris” pays tribute to the all-female Morris dancing troupe that reinvents British folk with vibrant energy, while “Two Kinds of Song” turns self-referential humour into an avalanche of remorse, culminating in the unforgettable chorus: “I’ve got two kinds of song. Which one will it be; one where I hate myself or one where you hate me?” Elsewhere, tracks like “Psychic Rome” draw from the decadence and hysteria of ancient Rome, while “The Coward in the Tower” breaks new ground as the only song Neilson has composed on an instrument before recording.

Throughout the album, Neilson’s lyricism is as vivid as ever, transforming personal tragedy into poignant and often darkly humorous art. Yet, there is a sense of finality to this work. "Songwriting has encouraged me to see the whole world as a resource. The things people say and throw away can be chiselled and polished and plopped into a lyric. It’s the same with building the cabin- scouring the edges of society for pallets, discarded wood, ornaments for the garden. But while song writing brings to life orphaned parts of my personality, the cabin is a synthesis of all my interests – nurturing my emotional health instead of exploiting it. With that in mind, I think this will be my last album as Alex Rex.”

With The National Trust, Neilson closes a significant chapter of his career, blending masterful musicianship with deeply personal storytelling. Known for his collaborations with artists such as Bonnie "Prince" Billy, Shirley Collins, and Current 93, as well as his decade-long tenure leading the psych-folk outfit Trembling Bells, Neilson has long been celebrated for his eclectic and uncompromising vision. This final album serves as a fitting culmination of his journey as Alex Rex, capturing the essence of his artistry while offering a profound exploration of loss, renewal, and the enduring power of love.

Marielle V Jakobsons has cultivated a signature voice molded by minimalist, ambient and spiritual traditions. Her recordings, from her early work with Date Palms, to the ongoing work with Chuck Johnson in Saariselka, and most definitively with The Patterns Lost to Air, show Jakobsons to be an exceptionally skillful sound sculptor, a musician who knows the value of patience and control. An artist able to derive maximum impact from her chosen sound elements, the album"s layout is shaped by three primary voices of violin, Fender Rhodes, and Moog Matriarch and was recorded in 2024 in the studio Jakobsons built in Oakland, California.

Marielle V Jakobsons has cultivated a signature voice molded by minimalist, ambient and spiritual traditions. Her recordings, from her early work with Date Palms, to the ongoing work with Chuck Johnson in Saariselka, and most definitively with The Patterns Lost to Air, show Jakobsons to be an exceptionally skillful sound sculptor, a musician who knows the value of patience and control. An artist able to derive maximum impact from her chosen sound elements, the album"s layout is shaped by three primary voices of violin, Fender Rhodes, and Moog Matriarch and was recorded in 2024 in the studio Jakobsons built in Oakland, California.

FRQNCY LDN, the new project from Alex Lavery and James Ford (producer du jour and one half of Simian Mobile Disco), are releasing their debut album ‘The White Edition’ on 5 September via PRAH Recordings. Alongside the news of their debut album, the duo are sharing the first taste in ‘Matthias’ Wajd’, which they describe as “a rousing, instrumental piece from the middle of the set where the whole ensemble became balanced providing moments where Raven played violin with haunting yet uplifting melodies within the cavernous reverb of the church. Interestingly, at this moment, most of the audience who had been laying down rose to watch the performance like a gig, like an awakening.”

Initially conceived as a live project with earlier performances at churches in London and at Glastonbury, FRQNCY LDN’s music is a mix of strings, gongs, oscillators, FX, and spoken word, and the result is a musical experience unlike any other. Now that immersive magic has been captured on their debut release through Prah Recordings.

The music that FRQNCY LDN are releasing as their debut album is from an extraordinary live take from a performance at St Matthias Church in Stoke Newington last year, and thanks in no small part to the serendipitous bunch of musicians they assembled: composer and violinist Raven Bush, clarinettist Arun Ghosh, cellist Satin Beige Chousmer, and harpist Chloe Chousmer-Kerr. Alongside Lavery and Ford and assisted by engineer Animesh Ravel, they were able to capture the music to a world class level.

FRQNCY LDN has its roots in a supermoon that occurred three summers ago, after the hottest day of the year. Two of Lavery’s friends gave a sound bath that evening. “I’m not overly into astronomy or anything but the experience was nuts,” he says. “I had to find out what had just happened. What felt like forty minutes was actually two and a half hours. We were all out. It was so profound that I was hooked.”

He immediately signed up for a sound therapy course where he learned about what he calls a “brain hack” to meditation. “The thing about sound therapy is there’s a lot that’s meditation-based, and I find meditation really difficult. I’ve got a very busy brain. What was alluring about this process of sound immersion, a sound bath, whatever you want to call it, is it’s basically a hack to making your brain get into a meditative state.”

FRQNCY LDN’s early shows crystallised their ideas into a project, and Lavery brought poet Nikita Gill on board as a vocalist. “One of the first poems she gave to me, ‘Unwitches’ was in response to me explaining that I’d love this project to be perceived as something anyone could access. It’s not just for the sound meditation or the yoga, or the mushroom crowd. No one should be turned off by connotations from where the music comes from, I love music but I’d never be into that because it’s too woo-woo. Nikita said she’d had this poem for a long time but she’d never found the right home for it.”

And in an increasingly busy and fraught world, the need to tune out for an hour or so, and maybe tune in to something more profound, is only going to get bigger.