Suche:re work

Structured Records presents the continuation of their previous work, signed by The Wire Alliance, untitled "Mathspace."

The new EP consists of 4 solid and impactful Techno remixes, where the diversity within each track defines this 12-inch as the perfect tool to set the dancefloor on fire.

Silez, Swarm Intelligence, Rommek, and Irrational Language dive into a whirlwind of drones, aggressive rhythmic patterns, exquisite basslines, and other sonic elements that creatively and deeply dissect the original songs.

A compilation that at times sounds reminiscent of early 2000s Birmingham, while at other times injects a sound closer to IDM, all without straying from its own essence: precise Techno execution, without frills or pretensions but with a lot of personality and a clear direction—to provide timeless material for the most demanding DJs.

Structured Records' new release is here to stay in your record collections. And we're not just saying it, just hit play. We love what we do. Enjoy it.

Well, we're two full months into 2017 and the world continues to burn like an avalanche of flaming biohazard material sliding down a mountain of used needles into a canyon full of rat feces. But hey, it's not all bad: Portugal. The Man has a new album coming out called Woodstock.


PTM's last album came out over three years ago—a long gap for a band who've dropped roughly an album a year since 2006. And in true, prolific band fashion, they've spent almost every minute since 2013 working on an album called Gloomin + Doomin. They created a shit-ton of individual songs, but as a whole, none of them hung together in a way that felt right. Then John Gourley, PTM's lead singer, made a trip home to Wasilla, Alaska, (Home of Portugal. The Man's biggest fan, Sarah Palin) and two things happened that completely changed the album's trajectory.

First, John got some parental tough love from his old man, who called John on the proverbial carpet or dogsled or whatever you put people on when you want to yell at them in Alaska. What's taking so long to finish the album' John's dad said. Isn't that what bands do Write songs and then put them out' Like fathers and unlicensed therapists tend to do, John's dad cut him deep. The whole thing started John thinking about why the band seemed to be stuck on a musical elliptical machine from hell and, more importantly, about how to get off of it.

Second, fate stuck its wiener in John's ear again when he found his dad's ticket stub from the original 1969 Woodstock music festival. It seems like a small thing, but talking to his dad about Woodstock '69 knocked something loose in John's head. He realized that, in the same tradition of bands from that era, Portugal. The Man needed to speak out about the world crumbling around them. With these two ideas converging, the band made a seemingly bat-shit-crazy decision: they took all of the work they had done for the three years prior and they threw it out.

It wasn't easy and there was the constant threat that the band's record label might have them killed, but the totally insane decision paid off. With new, full-on, musical boners, the band went back to the studio—working with John Hill (In The Mountain In The Cloud), Danger Mouse (Evil Friends), Mike D (Everything Cool), and longtime collaborator Casey Bates (The one consistent producer since the first record). In this new-found creative territory, the album that became Woodstock rolled out naturally from there.

Remember that mountain of burning needles we were talking about Good. Because Woodstock is an album (Including the new single Feel It Still') that—with optimism and heart—points at the giant pile and says, Hey, this pile is fucked up!' And if you think that pile is fucked up too, you owe it to yourself—hell, to all of us—to get out there and do something about it.

Originally released in 2012 following unprecedented changes in the music industry, Mourning in America and Dreaming in Color found Brother Ali reborn and rejuvenated. Teaming up with famed platinum-selling producer Jake One (Drake, J. Cole, Wiz Khalifa, MF DOOM), Brother Ali was prepared to tell the American story from a very different viewpoint. Inspired by his first trip to Mecca, the 2011 uprisings in the Middle East, and the Occupy movements that were building steam worldwide, Ali linked with Jake One during a two-month sabbatical in Seattle to create this brave new phase in his remarkable discography. The album presented a scathingly honest critique of America and its many flaws while simultaneously presenting a hopeful outlook for the future and its possibilities. At a time when many felt powerless against an overreaching government with all its militarist and corporate interests, Mourning In America and Dreaming In Color provided the voice of a critical American consciousness, as well as a beacon of hope for those that hold fast to its ideals and potential. In honor of its 10th anniversary, we've pressed this limited edition 2xLP vinyl offering with redesigned packaging and layout that features a custom-built slash case with an illustrated flag, a full-color jacket housing tri-color red/white/blue galaxy effect vinyl, printed record sleeves and a 4-panel lyric booklet.

Dagerlöff & Galner is a French duo that seeks to create its own vision of modern music, including elements of futuristic synths, Japanese video games, progressive jazz or epic and textured soundtracks. Their sound has a progressive touch that can recall the works of Aphex Twin or Oneohtrix Point Never. To be given the opportunity to set this masterpiece to music, the first cinematic venture into the occult, was a real treat for them. Presented in the style of a lecture, Häxan: Witchcraft Through The Ages is a Swedish silent documentary - horror film directed by Benjamin Christensen which was originally released in 1922 (in Sweden) and deals with witchcraft from antiquity to the film's contemporary period. The movie was released in the US in 1968. Witchcraft is carefully portrayed through illustrations from medieval books and audio-visual reconstructions. From the witches' sabbath to the interrogations of the Inquisition, the classical images come to life in disturbing spectral visions using all the special effects available at the time: overprints, models, jump cuts, stop motion, make-up and prosthetics. The film's soundtrack is divided in three parts, including the one by Dagerlöff & Galner. The duo enhances the heretical character of the work through dark pieces with constant intensity. This work of digital synthesis (choirs, orchestra, organ, analog modulars and tapes) allowed them to draw lines between tradition and modernity, like a film whose purpose remains as strong and relevant almost a century later. The film was re-released in a restored Blu-ray version by Potemkine in 2021, in a limited edition of 1666copies(sold out).

Run-D.M.C.'s Raising Hell remains the turning point at which hip-hop crashed through mainstream barriers and never left. Anchored by the crossover smash "Walk This Way," the 1986 blockbuster still sounds like a revolution unfolding in real time. It has everything – hard-rock riffs, turntable scratching, itchy rhythms, hit singles – not the least of which are the trio's invigorating raps and inseparable chemistry. And now it's the first rap record afforded audiophile treatment, courtesy of Mobile Fidelity.

Sourced from the original master tapes and pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, the reissue label's numbered-edition 180g 33RPM SuperVinyl LP elevates Raising Hell to sonic heights on par with its musical and cultural significance. Ranked the 123rd Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, 43rd on Pitchfork's Greatest Albums of the 1980s, one of the Top 100 Albums of All Time by TIME – and included on "Best of" lists by Spin, Paste, XXL, Entertainment Weekly, and basically every other significant media outlet – the triple-platinum effort rocks the house.

Benefitting from the ultra-low noise floor and groove definition of SuperVinyl, Raising Hell unleashes a torrent of massive dynamics and tsunami of frequency-plumbing details underlined by Rick Rubin's taut, crisp, albeit raw and streetwise production. Just as the Queens-based group both defined what hip-hop could represent – and displayed just how big it could get – Rubin's work melded ear-worm hooks, savvy drum loops, metal-leaning guitars, and, of course, Run and D.M.C.'s cross-fire lyrical interplay into watertight frameworks bursting with ideas, tones, samples, and beats. Heard anew on Mobile Fidelity vinyl, Raising Hell is in every regard the aural equivalent of a direct-to-console 1970s classic. And it sounds as fresh as hell.

As for the music, it ranks among the most influential, inventive, and invigorating ever released – rap or otherwise. Vanguard artists such as Ice-T, Eminem, Jay-Z, and Public Enemy's Chuck D – who declared it his all-time favorite and "the first record that made me realize this was an album-oriented genre" – have testified on behalf of its brilliance. And never mind the presence of the Top 5 single "Walk This Way," whose power helped make Aerosmith's Steven Tyler and Joe Perry relevant for the first time in nearly a decade – and literally put Run-D.M.C. in bedrooms ranging from the Bronx to Bartlett to Bad Axe.

Look instead to the rest of the entirely filler-free set, be it the corkscrew turns, slippery wordplay, and "My Sharona"-meets-"Mickey" mixology of the boisterous "It's Tricky," the fat-but-minimized bass grooves and warped turntable wobble of the hysterical "You Be Illin'," chimes-accented inertia and boombox-on- shoulder thunder of the now-iconic "Peter Piper," or voice-as-percussion attack of the funky "Is It Live." With Raising Hell, the answer to the question is always affirmative – a sensation bolstered by the fact the group always had something to say.

The definition of Golden Age Hip-Hop in every way, Run-D.M.C. avoids the negativity and misogyny that later plagued the style, spinning assertive tales about identity (the biographical and culture-changing "My Adidas"), work ethics ("Perfection"), and, most notably, pride (the Harriet Tubman- and Malcom X.-referencing "Proud to Be Black"). Pavement-packed inner cities, tree-lined suburbs, and cornfield-rimmed rural areas would never again be the same. And rocking a rhyme that's right on time would become trickier than ever.

Sounds While Waiting documents the latest organ works by composer and musician Ellen Arkbro – following her phenomenal debut, 2017's For Organ And Brass, and the more recent CHORDS. Recorded at a centuries-old church in Unnaryd, Sweden in June 2020, these pieces reveal the enchanting qualities of sustained harmonic sound, how patterns of listening dissolve and emerge as textured space. On opening track "Changes," long radiant tones ebb and flow like divine breaths, while "Leaving Dreaming" builds with dynamic tension to unlock a subtle, otherworldly ambience.

As the composer states in the sleeve notes, "These recordings are traces of something I have come to love to do in large resonant spaces, which is to set up sustained chords on multiple organs and then move slowly through the sound. The instruments are usually far apart, which makes for the emergence of large fields of continuous change, spaces of harmonicity that can be passed through layer by layer and which contain within them points of both clarity and overwhelming complexity. The organ pipes are tuned and retuned, though sometimes I leave them just as they are. What I'm searching for is the moment when a particular kind of sounding texturality is revealed – it is rough, focused and yet strangely transparent."

Arkbro composes for acoustic instruments, for synthetic sound and for combinations of both, including music for orchestra and smaller chamber ensembles and large scale installation works. She currently performs in Catherine Christer Hennix's Kamigaku ensemble, and she previously studied with La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela. Recommended for fans of Sarah Davachi, Eliane Radigue and Charlemagne Palestine.

For the third of Sonic Youth's sound experiment series, they teamed up with legendary nosie-nik Jim O'Rourke. Building on the ideas from the brilliant extended version of "The Diamond Sea" (from WASHING MACHINE); the series explores the (mostly) instrumental side of the band. Though sold as an EP, the three tracks on the CD version of clock in at just over 56 minutes, and can sit quite comfortably with any of SY's best work.

The title track opens the record with over 20 minutes of drenching feedback, saxophone tints, and cut-up television dialogue suggesting the soundtrack to a film-noir set in an industrial wasteland. The comparatively short (at 6 minutes) "Hungara Vivo" is the middle track of this extraordinarily strong trio and is the band's first true "ambient" soundscape: even the master himself, Brian Eno, might be a little envious. The closer, "Radio-Amatoroj," is a 29-minute mediation that structurally recalls "Hyperstation" from the seminal DAYDREAM NATION album. Though this record, and indeed the series to which it belongs, is not aimed at fans of the band's more pop-oriented material, as a whole, it is easily the best work they have done in years. All text written in Esperanto. Eye-fucking cover art.

Following on from the Primal Scream frontman’s brilliantly-received previous release for Ace, ‘Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down’ (accolades included being short-listed for Rough Trade’s compilation of the year), Bobby Gillespie brings us another slice of the music that soundtracks his life. And in this case, it’s his touring life. Drawing on the experience of ‘the way that the noise and clamour of the road can tire you out, wear you down and frazzle your nerves to shattered fragments of jangled exhaustion’, these are the records Bobby turns to for solace, for comfort, for empathy and for resourcefulness.

The compilation features an introduction from the man himself, talking us through his personal choices as though he’s sitting cross-legged on the carpet going through records with you in his lounge. Also long-time cohort of the band, Kris Needs has written extensive liner-notes, serving up an intensive track by track insight and analysis.

Titled after and kicking off with the Willie Nelson track of the same name, ‘I Still Can’t Believe You’re Gone’ leads us through a darker and deeper exploration than its predecessor, featuring Nick Cave’s funereal version of ‘By The Time I Get To Phoenix’ and Ry Cooder’s sparse and beautiful reworking of ‘Dark End Of The Street’. And we get there via such greats as Bob Dylan, JJ Cale, Donnie Fritts, Crazy Horse, Lee Hazlewood, Al Green, Thin Lizzy and so many more.

In Bobby’s own words: ‘These songs are soul savers to soothe frayed and battered nerves and to ease and settle the heart. They work on me like medicine every time. I would like to share this wonderful music that has given me strength, joy and inspiration over the years with you the listener, so that you too might get the same feelings of protection and inspiration that I do whenever I listen to these songs. We're all travellers on some kind of road through this life, and we all need respite from time-to-time - the music on this compilation is soul food of the highest order - I hope you enjoy it.’.

Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.

Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.

Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”

But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.

The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.

“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.

Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.

Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

Folk duo lilo's ascent continues with second EP, I Don’t Like My Chances On The Outside. Having met at school aged 11, Christie Gardner and Helen Dixon’s friendship runs over a decade deep. Starting out with homespun recordings and YouTube covers, by the time they moved to London in their late-teens, they had an unshakeable creative bond that forms an incredible bedrock for them to flourish from. Their exceptional debut EP Sleep Country (Practise Music) came out in late-2021. Taking cues from alt-folk and classic country, it showed a maturity and dexterity that belied their years. As Loud & Quiet said of the band in a recent interview, "what sets them apart from their contemporaries is a real understanding of Americana-influenced folk’s lineage as a genre. Think Emmylou Harris’ soul bearing and the pitchperfect vocal glide of Karen Carpenter." New EP, I Don’t Like My Chances On The Outside, is a truly brilliant follow-up that underscores that we're no longing talking about promise with this duo. Working with producer friend Joseph Futák, they're now firmly in their stride, deftly counterbalancing delicate moments and harmony-led pop highs across a full-bodied band sound. Their lyrics speak for their generation too, encapsulating the panic, anxiety and love of twenty-somethings at a time of great uncertainty; from single 'Settled' where the financial realities of needing to move back in with your parents to the sheer relief of ending a relationship on 'I Don't Love You Anymore' and 'Just A Thought's failing attempts to pull a friend away from a bad person ("It's your hill to die on," they warn), nothing is off the plate.

In the 1950s and 60s, the blues was the dominant form of Black vernacular music throughout Texas and the surrounding areas In segregated neighborhoods, community members gathered in saloons, dancehalls, and each other's homes to hear their neighbors sing their stories of sorrow, heartbreak, jubilation, and triumph. Robert "Mack" McCormick, an academically untrained but fanatical devotee of the blues, stepped into this world and became one of its most devout advocates and documentarians. By photographing Black and Latino Texans and their neighborhoods, as well as recording and interviewing musicians, many of whom never stepped foot into a proper recording studio, McCormick endeared and eventually embedded himself into these communities. By the time he died in 2015, McCormick had amassed a collection of 590 reels of sound recordings and 165 boxes of manuscripts, original interviews and research notes, thousands of photographs and negatives, playbills, and posters. Because McCormick never published or released most of these materials, his collection became a thing of legend and intense speculation among scholars, blues aficionados, and musicians alike. 'Playing for the Man at the Door..' is the first compilation of music drawn from this fabled collection, which indelibly documents a pivotal moment in African American history. It features never- before- heard performances not only from musicians who became icons in their own right, including Lightnin' Hopkins and Mance Lipscomb, but also, crucially, performers whose names may be unfamiliar to even the most devoted blues fans and scholars. Newly mastered recordings and accompanying photographs bring to life many of these forgotten figures: offering insight into their lives and illuminating in new, enlightening ways their joys and anguish, deep social connections, distinctive voices, and cultural networks. The collection spans gospel, ragtime, country blues dirges, the unclassifiable music of George "Bongo Joe" Coleman, and more, showing that no community, no matter how tight knit, is monolithic. Accompanying the music is a 128- page book, which contains breathtaking photographs by McCormick and his associates, as well as contextual essays by producers Jeff Place and John Troutman on McCormick's life, and by musicians Mark Puryear and Dom Flemons on some of the marginalized communities throughout "Greater Texas" to which McCormick devoted his life's work.

Synthesizer king J.B. Banfi, a.k.a. Giuseppe 'Baffo' Banfi, hit the record market with the great italian prog rock outfit Biglietto per l'Inferno who released a legendary LP in 1974 on Trident and have been reivindicated in several occasions since with the release of lost recordings from the era as well as unearthing an unreleased 1974 live album. The band existed between 1972 and 1975, and had both Pilly Cossa on Hammond doing the virtuoso work and Baffo's keyboard explorations adding sound texture and atmosphere. Their second LP was recorded and mixes were to be produced by Klaus Schulze, but it remained unissued due to the Trident label flop. The band split shortly after this, but Baffo continued his experiments with electronic keyboards.

In 1978 Baffo released his first solo LP 'Galaxy My Dear', credited to J.B.Banfi and echoing huge influences from his friend and master Klaus Schulze, who would also produce his two next releases. A total DIY domestic home recording, with all the limitations implied but also with all its warmness within, 'Galaxy My Dear' is entirely played by Banfi and shows an accurate taste in his use of the synths, plus of course a strong kraut / cosmiche appeal that links the album's sound to that of the early Tangerine Dream or Ash Ra Tempel, but also brings a hint of Jean-Michel Jarre or even a certain reminiscence of the early electronic experiments by Franco Battiato and is a good contender to be filed along other Wah Wah reissues like those of Roberto Cacciapaglia or Franco Leprino.

Comes in original artwork with notes written by Baffo Banfi himself in a limited edition of 500 copies only.

Artist and multi-instrumentalist Flaer looks to the landscape to explore pastoral melancholy on debut release, Preludes.

Ensconced in his family home in rural Leicestershire in the early months of 2020, painter and musician Realf Heygate (b. 1994) picked up his childhood cello for the first time in several years and began to play. Setting himself parameters to only record onto 4-track tape with acoustic instruments – cello, piano and acoustic guitar – he assembled a suite of instrumental compositions that form the basis of Preludes, his debut album as Flaer and the inaugural release on Odda Recordings.

Channelling the tension and unease between the pastoral idyll of the English countryside and the darkness which lurks beneath the surface, the mini-album draws inspiration from the analogue aesthetic of 1970s folk horror films, weaving field recordings of birdsong, church bells and the natural environment into chimerical melodies that reflect on Heygate’s childhood experiences of rural England.

“It was really important not to isolate the sound from its environment,” he explains, describing the compositional and recording process as “site-specific”. Developed over a series of intuitive musical enquiries, the mini-album’s uncanny quality emerges from combining raw demo takes with overdubs of almost orchestral grandeur.

Heygate points to the final track as indicative of the work as a whole: “‘Follow’ really is the mantra for the release and embodies the practical approach I was taking to music making: not to force the music but see where it takes you.”

As a painter, Heygate’s practice takes artefacts through sequences of reproduction that embrace the fluctuating materiality of the copy. Since obtaining a degree in Fine Art from Central Saint Martins in 2017, he has exhibited solo at Peter von Kant and Springseason galleries in London, and has participated in group shows at Saatchi Gallery, Cob Gallery and Senesi Contemporanea.

Describing his artistic practice as one of self-erasure, music instead provides Heygate with a more personal and autobiographical outlet. Where the two worlds combine is on Preludes’ striking artwork, which features paintings of 13th century stone carvings from the font of the church in the town where he grew up.

Speaking to a time where people were connected to the land in a more profound way, each symbol is assigned to a track on the album, which Heygate likens to giving them a title.

“To add that one juxtaposition might open a whole new interpretation or language that might be hard to find otherwise,” he explains.“Over time it might reveal itself to you, which is why I'm excited about it being released. To throw them out there and see what comes of it.”

Jake Muir's latest set of soft-focus, sensual electro-concrète, dissolves X-rated gay sleaze flick soundtracks into a shimmering suite of subdued orchestral flourishes and surreal cosmic psychedelia.

Back in 2020, Muir put together a 90-minute mix for Honey Soundsystem, blending tracks from Kelman Duran, DJ Olive, Daniel Lanois and Terre Thaemlitz with obliquely camp dialog samples from vintage gay porn. The idea was to represent queer sexuality in a looser, more experimental manner, grazing the super-sensory pleasure of the bathhouse experience and the illicit joy of cruising without getting too self-serious while doing it. The mix was so popular that Muir followed it up with a weightless sequel two years later, and began developing the concept into a proper album, using more samples of music and dialogue, eventually performing the piece at the esteemed GRM as part of their FOCUS #4 concerts alongside work by Eliane Radigue, Folke Rabe and Chris Watson.

Bathhouse Blues is split into two side-long pieces that wash and ripple with nervous tension and discreet salaciousness. Opening with a familiar theatre sting, there are echoes here of kosmische and experimental electronics on 'Cruisin’ 87', fashioned into puddles of syrupy, back-room ambience. Occasionally we hear lascivious words thru the fog, men mumbling to each other before sex. "That's beautiful," a voice mutters over a dusky cricket chirp on 'Pipe Dream'. "It is," another replies.

Muir's sonic treatment is suitably explicit, like a 1950s Hollywood jump-cut to a train going into a tunnel; he takes the whole-body, mutual release of queer sex and interprets it with heady gestures, peppering jazzy rhythmic frostings into basins of skewered drone and gurgling synths. His sound is coloured by the pleasure of physical touch, a mussy flux of high frequency scrapes and caresses juxtaposed with woozy, dubbed-out fondles and thrusts. Who said the GRM was buttoned up?

File Under Balearic Gabba EP is the first in a new series of serious DJ tools that will encompass remixes, edits, originals and licenses, all with artwork that is a twist on the original Balearic Gabba logo by PlanetLuke. Up first is a new selection of music from core Hell Yeah artists that is unruly, impossible to define, and sure to twist dance floors inside out.

First up is Daniel Klein better known as SIRS, a Berlin-based mainstay with releases on the likes of Live At Robert Johnson. His cut of 'Super Rapido' is a dubbed-out blend of kosmiche chug and tropical percussion. Tumbling synth sequences bring extra colour as the groove builds over nine irresistible minutes.

Then comes Japanese downtempo master Calm with his Mellow Mellow Acid Dub of Sergio Messina & The Four Twenties's 'Sometimes' which is a nostalgic acid daydream and the perfect sunset soundtrack. Melancholic moods and lazy drums sink you in deep as the gentle acoustic guitars keep you afloat.

Label regular and Internasjonal and International Feel associate Feel Fly then comes through with an Estatico Danzante Remix of Pedro Bertho's 'Tornei' feat Mariana Gehring and takes us to the stars on twinkling keys, dusty breakbeats and steamy, worldly vocals that glow as warm as a setting sun.

Last of all is New York maestro and Loose Control Band member DJ Spun with his It's Rong Remix of My Friend Dario's 'Acid Mosquito in a Summer Night'. It finds him serving up a nine-minute excursion into jungle humidity with tribal percussion and jumbled bongos all run through with a spooky and primeval lead synth over lurching drum breaks.

The File Under Balearic Gabba EP brings a whole new dimension to wonky dance floor workouts.

Drumcode favourite Victor Ruiz joins forces with rising Irish artist Modeā for an inspiring meeting of styles. Modeā’s ‘Shine’ may have brought many a dancefloor to its knees last summer, but it wasn’t just ravers who were weeping glorious techno tears.

“Shine is one of the best electronic music records ever made,” Victor Ruiz states in emphatic fashion. The Brazilian producer, who has been industrious in recent months with the successful launch of his own label Volta, soon tapped the Donegal artist for a collaboration and the seeds for ‘Bloom’ had been sewn.

‘Contrast’ saw an inversion of their workflow. The final result sees the duo craft two shots of emotional techno with enough bottom-end might to power a range of peak-time dancefloor moments.

The visionary French musician stays true, in this third compendium too, to his path of planetary asceticism. A new treasure chest of secrets reveals to us the same spirituality of total experimentation, by balancing the universe and the inner soul. In Taste The Fullness Of Life Ariel builds his symphonic pillars toward the cosmos, eternal architectures that always smell of Indian fragrances. The music always communicates a state of full grace, spreading balms of bliss. An unprecedented whispered narrating voice, evident especially in Spiritual Chanson D'Esprit, is embellished with textures of harmonic bells, tropical flutes, spacey harmoniums and drones of mystical light. In the recordings of Going Inward, also made on the occasion of a Tantric workshop, Kalma oscillates between tribal electronic dances, metalic almost industrial rhythms, but then always falls back in a comfort zone made of desert carpets of synths and baths of sound (gong/bells). Harmonica Galactica crowns interestellar dreams with unscrupulous drum-machine gears and pulsing saxes, superb use of VCS3 with arabesque and Schulzian overtones, and suave touches of fingerpicking guitar with freak vibes typical of psych-folk.

Since the 1970s Mario De Leo works as a musician and visual artist. His mechanical paintings are hybrid works that reveal the cosmic spiritualism hidden in the meanders of electronics. With Riccardo Sinigaglia (Futuro Antico, Correnti Magnetiche, Doubling Riders) De Leo consolidates an artistic and human partnership with Lettera Cosmica, a work unpublished to date, produced and recorded in 1981. In a wacky electronic vision of the succession of time, the tracks trace the four seasons in a fine process of analog loops, prepared tapes of strings and piano, time and pitch shifts, filtering with Synthi Ems and Teac 3340 4-track recorder. On this seemingly cold palette, De Leo deploys his own personal Mediterranean fingerpicking, with vocal timbres peculiar to the music of the South of Italy, but no longer circumscribed to the origins of his Pugliese regionalism, as much as to an expressive range seasoned also with irony and avant-garde.The sound writing harmonizes with the evocative cover, in which emerges a warmest human note of "technological peasant”.

Following a four-year hiatus, Jamie has returned with his 6th album and most poignant and heartfelt work to date Chronicling the earliest years of fatherhood and a newfound creative energy, Little Weaknesses is a record that embraces brightness and brims with optimism for the future. Little Weaknesses is Jamie's return to music after a four-year break that saw the birth of his son in 2020."Originally, I had intended to take six months off when he came along. And then the pandemic hit, and I had what felt like three years off," he says. The time away instilled him with a desire to re-wire his creative process, following a period of immense career highs that included performances at Wembley Stadium and Croke Park, and tours with Ed Sheeran and James Blunt. Fatherhood brought a new sense of direction and meant any music he left his young family to play, perform or promote had to fulfil him completely. "Having that time settled me into a style of music that I wanted to make that I wasn't making," he shares. "Now, I would say this record is not that far away from the others, but it does feel much more cohesive. I remember listening to some playlists, like Lost In The Woods or Fresh Folk, and just thinking:'Oh, this is where I should be sitting. This is the music I love. This is the music I get the most out of.'It's all quite simple, but it's all quite beautiful. And there's proper lyrical content, something going on that makes me think about things. Those are the songs I wanted to write." Little Weaknesses is 14 tracks of concise, emotive, painterly beauty. It's a record that sees Jamie wholeheartedly embrace collaboration, working alongside a close- knit group of artists and friends, including multi- genre violinist Isabella Baker who arranged strings for six songs and songwriters Simon Aldred (aka Cherry Ghost) and Jack McManus. The entire album was crafted in Jamie's music room in his family residence in Manchester and recorded by producercollaborator Tim Ross at his home studio in Twickenham.