Suche:re grad

Grady Steele (Formant Soundsystem) debuts on FELT with the tender spectre of Nausea, poignant patterns captured through the dusk-hued window pane.

Co-founder of the Formant Soundsystem, a travelling rig that’s powered forward-thinking dances in London and Paris, Grady Steele has championed both experimental and club music at the cutting edge. Concurrently to this, he debuted his own productions back in 2024 for Archaic Vaults. Uniquely intimate, his music shone lowkey and warm with an assured glow. It’s no surprise then to find his inimitable sounds land neatly on Fergus Jones’ FELT imprint.

Nausea extends across seven movements, narrating sentimental parallels of familiarity. Grady posits concentrated pangs of post-rave nostalgia with rich melodic sustenance, a vivid introspection tempered with field recordings and live instrumentation. Strummed guitars and aching pads move purposefully with the suspended pace, an immersive beatless vista from its opening quiet moments through to the guttural noise-laden finale. It’s a brief, beautiful collection from Grady Steele and another string to FELT’s unpredictable bow.

Written, recorded and produced by Grady Steele

Mastered by Miles Whittaker

Cover photo by Alex Kurunis

British punk trio GRADE 2 return swinging with Talk About It, their third and most blisteringly realized album, out on Tim Armstrong"s storied Hellcat Records. It"s an 11-track surge that fuses classic punk"s bare-knuckle conviction with the disillusionment, identity crises, and quiet rage of Gen-Z-delivered by three Isle of Wight lifers who"ve been sharpening their edge since they fifirst bashed out covers at 14. Jack Chatfifield, Jacob Hull, and Sid Ryan have spent thirteen years turning raw instinct into a signature roar, and Talk About It captures them at full velocity. Their blistering track, "Cut Throat," distills their ethos: fifierce guitars, punishing rhythm, and a narra-tive of clawing forward while the world seems hellbent on pulling you under. "It"s about a world that takes more than it gives," the band says-and that tension becomes fuel, a rallying cry for anyone navigating a landscape that feels colder by the day. With Talk About It, GRADE 2 don"t just revive punk"s urgency-they embody it.

British punk trio GRADE 2 return swinging with Talk About It, their third and most blisteringly realized album, out on Tim Armstrong"s storied Hellcat Records. It"s an 11-track surge that fuses classic punk"s bare-knuckle conviction with the disillusionment, identity crises, and quiet rage of Gen-Z-delivered by three Isle of Wight lifers who"ve been sharpening their edge since they fifirst bashed out covers at 14. Jack Chatfifield, Jacob Hull, and Sid Ryan have spent thirteen years turning raw instinct into a signature roar, and Talk About It captures them at full velocity. Their blistering track, "Cut Throat," distills their ethos: fifierce guitars, punishing rhythm, and a narra-tive of clawing forward while the world seems hellbent on pulling you under. "It"s about a world that takes more than it gives," the band says-and that tension becomes fuel, a rallying cry for anyone navigating a landscape that feels colder by the day. With Talk About It, GRADE 2 don"t just revive punk"s urgency-they embody it.

Stacey Kent is an American jazz singer in the mould of the greats, with a legion of fans, a host of honors and awards including a Grammy nomination, album sales in excess of 2 million and more than one billion streams, and Platinum, Double-Gold and Gold-selling albums that have reached a series of chart-topping positions.

Stacey, a comparative literature graduate with a passion for music, travelled to Europe to further her studies after receiving her degree from Sarah Lawrence College in NY. Through a series of twists of fate, she found herself in London where she enrolled in a graduate music program at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama, where she met her future husband and musical partner, Jim Tomlinson.

Kent's musical journey began with childhood piano lessons. A keen ear and true voice lead her to search out opportunities to express her love of music. However, nothing suggested the shift from the academic path to the one that propelled her to international recognition as one of the foremost jazz singers of her generation. With a catalogue of 13 studio albums, including the Platinum selling, Grammy-nominated Breakfast On The Morning Tram (Blue Note/EMI 2007) and an impressive list of collaborations, Stacey has graced the stages of nearly 60 countries over the course of her career.

Her worldwide fan base is testimony to her ability to express the emotional heart of her songs with delicately nuanced interpretations that transcend borders and defy categorization. Her unique multi-lingual repertoire includes standards, chanson, Bossa Nova, and originals written by Jim Tomlinson, her saxophonist/producer/composer/arranger husband in collaboration with the Nobel Prize-winning author, Kazuo Ishiguro with whom they have worked since 2006. She has also recorded with Brazilian legends, Marcos Valle, Roberto Menescal and Danilo Caymmi, and the celebrated French string quartet, the Quatuor Ébène.

Stacey's last studio album, Summer Me, Winter Me, was released in November 2023 on Naïve Records. A collection of fans' requests from her as yet unrecorded concert repertoire, Summer Me, Winter Me entered the French jazz charts at number 1 and has quickly established itself as a new highlight in her discography. She now returns with A Time For Love.

DOODSESKADER clearly haven’t had enough of redefining boundaries – they’ve only just gotten started. Tim De Gieter and Sigfried Burroughs return on April 3rd, 2026 with their third full-length album, The Change Is Me, a rollercoaster that can only be described as the unstable lovechild between witch house, hip-hop, industrial dream pop, and stadium rock that can’t decide if it wants to watch the world burn or shout from the rooftops that we need to save it. Their combination of grungy 90s melodies with distorted synths, sludgy bass, hard tuned vocals, rapping, singing, and explosions of undiluted rage at the current state of the world leave you wondering just exactly what it was you smoked last night, and if it was too much or not enough. The Change Is Me is an album that grabs you by the arm and asks if you’re ready to go on a grand adventure, then pulls you into its chaos before you can say “yes” or “no.”

Tim and Sigfried aren’t just breaking the boundaries between genres; they’re breaking out of their own Year cycle, a path they had laid out for themselves at the band’s inception in 2020. Up until now, the duo had set out to document their “journey to getting better” through writing one album each year: Year Zero (2020), Year One (2022), and most recently Year Two (2024). After spending eight months throughout 2024 and 2025 writing, recording, producing and mixing Year Three, the band scrapped the finished record entirely. Playing shows while simultaneously navigating the process of mixing Year Three created a sort of disconnect – the people that they were when they wrote that record and the people that playing shows made them become were no longer one and the same. “We’re people with faults and strengths, and we realized we needed to accept it. That’s equal parts bleak and liberating. If you’re so focused on self-improvement, you can’t even applaud yourself for how far you’ve come,” the band explains. “This project is meant to be a document of us and of the human condition, not a self-improvement handbook designed to keep us all stuck on what may or may not have happened to us or because of us in the past.”

DOODSESKADER chose instead to embark anew on a week-long creative journey in Tim’s own Much Luv Studio with one goal in mind: to make an album that captures who they are right now. Finally writing everything together in the same room for the first time in years, the process of bringing "The Change Is Me" to life was captured by Diana Lungu in their latest documentary, "Now I Know You See Me", out December 2nd, 2025.

"The Change Is Me" marks the beginning of DOODSESKADER’s shift into a more positive era, both musically and conceptually. Over the course of the 40-minute record we hear the two friends unite in a fight against a world that grows more and more disappointing, a concept made crystal clear in tracks like “Celebrity Culture Simp Farm,” “It Keeps On Stinging,” and of course the album’s epic closer “Suffering In Technicolor.” While their previous albums saw them trying to outrun their pasts and arrive at a better version of themselves, here the search for some external or internal revelation that will “make them better” is no more. It’s been replaced by the realization that change isn’t something we force: it’s gradual, and more importantly, it’s something that’s already there – we just need to reach out and accept it.

The band’s live appearances over the last several years have been instrumental in shaping their ideology. On stage is where the duo find connection; not only with the audience, but also with each other. Their sold-out release shows at Ancienne Belgique (2022) and VierNulVier (2024) have proven that they are one of Belgium’s must-see acts. Abroad, their energy has translated into a month-long EU/UK tour with French band Alcest in 2024, as well as appearances at festivals such as Roadburn Festival (NL), Eurosonic (NL), Hellfest (FR), Mystic Fest (PL), Jera On Air (NL), ArcTanGent (UK), Fluff Fest (CZ) and more.

"The Change Is Me" is out April 3rd, 2026 on DOODSESKADER’s own label, 45 Records.

WRWTFWW Records presents an ultra limited (100 copies !) vinyl edition of Meemo Comma’s Decimation Of I album, originally released digitally in 2024 on Mike Paradinas' Planet Mu label. The collector’s pressing is housed in a heavyweight sleeve.
Decimation Of I is the fifth album by Brighton-based electronic musician Meemo Comma. It's a work based on the Strugatsky brothers‘ 1971 novel Roadside Picnic, a book that was also turned into the Russian cult classic Stalker by Andrei Tarkovsky. The inspiration came from reading the book alongside the backdrop of global climate disasters where an environment is rapidly becoming less habitable, all while powerful nations occupy and commit genocide.

The rough story of both film and novel is about a select group of characters exploring a land that has been transformed by alien visitors. We never meet the extraterrestrials, nor is it important to, we only have the artefacts left behind. The environment itself becomes the character, neither wholly Earth-like nor alien, but a surreal blend of both, inviting introspection on our insignificance amidst profound change. Within this land’s rebirth, our characters confront ego death, a necessary step towards the profound revelation, the discovery of one's true desire in the absence of ego.

The album opens with the innocent flutes of ’They, spoke,‘ and the disorienting electronica of ‘The Soldier‘ building towards the Terry Riley like undulating clarinets of ‘The Poet’, whose intertwining synth organ drones set the scene. Nods to the seventies electronica of Wendy Carlos and Eduard Artemyev can be heard with the use of Bach melodies in ‘P3Alpha Exotoxin‘ and ‘Area X,‘ however each of these songs draw the listener to primal noise undercurrents, their disintegrating melodies hinting at humanity's gradual dissolution, unveiling profound revelations beyond our comprehension.

As the album reaches its midpoint, ‘Spectral Alignment‘ paints a hazy morning prairie scene with Aaron Copland style French horn, restful woodwinds, spatial arpeggios and a warm drone culminating in an emotional pitstop as the soldiers wake in the dewy morning of this alien landscape, unaware the last of their humanity remains.

The last sentence in Roadside Picnic “HAPPINESS FOR EVERYBODY, FREE, AND MAY NO ONE BE LEFT BEHIND!” is the inspiration for ‘As It Is Written.’ We can either take from this the total annihilation of self has been filled with propaganda from their homeland, or the epiphany of their own autonomy in the war against a land and its inhabitants.

Between flesh and silicon. “Under My Skin” (2026) is the first album by IADI, released by Neo Life. A record like few
others, highly conceptual, cover art included. Its essence lies in the folds of the increasingly ambiguous relationship
between man and machine, where the former designs the latter and, perhaps without fully realizing it, is gradually
destined to adapt and be reprogrammed by it. Each track of “Under My Skin” is, in fact, a sort of interface, connector, or
any other imaginative point of contact between two creative phases, amid emotional impulses and binary calculations.
The sonic architecture oscillates between analog warmth and algorithmic coldness, constructing landscapes in which
pulsating synthesizers and mechanical rhythms seem to question each other. There's no linear narrative, but rather a
progressive immersion in a zone of near-friction, where the comfort of technology coexists with more than a faint
musical uneasiness, like a background noise that never ceases to remind you who's truly in charge. In “Under My Skin”,
the machine is neither an enemy nor a simple instrument: it's a real presence, intimate, even tactile, amplifying desires,
fears, and dreams of dawns beyond the digital realm. Intelligent dance music. Less noise, more sensations. Electronic,
but profoundly human.
The final result, then, is a music project that speaks to the present, yet sounds like an X-ray of the future, capturing that
fragile moment when humanity and technology stop observing each other from afar and begin to merge, track after
track. It's no coincidence that IADI's album opens with “Impulse”, an immediate expression of an electrical impulse, for
both humans and machines, which is also the language of the nervous system, as fast as it is vital—pure energy and
rhythm, a track as intense as it is irregular. And after this introduction, it's the turn of the equally erratic “Axon”, whose
title describes the neuron that transmits the signal over distance, telling the listener to sit back and relax for a new
journey through the notes toward the more melodic “Cortex”. The cerebral cortex, the ultimate seat of thought and
memory, becomes the source from which the musical flow of the first part of the work is drawn.
Then, suddenly, an automatic, or instinctive, response to the constant succession of impulses: “Reflex”, or zerotemperature techno, with a fragmented pace, featuring vocal samples, breaks, and restarts. In the producer's
imagination, the subsequent, and conversely placid, “Neuron” represents the emotional core of the second part of the
work, providing a kind of respite from the seething vibrations. While the neuron is the basic unit of the nervous system,
the synapse is the functional connection point between one neuron and another effector cell, essential for the
transmission of nerve impulses and communication in the nervous system, enabling functions such as learning and
movement. Likewise, a track like “Synapse” once again illuminates the path traced by IADI. The more experimental and
streamlined “Static” instead suggests true ordered chaos. “Dreamstate” is the conclusion suspended in the void, relating
to that dreamlike state between waking and sleeping, where consciousness fades toward infinity and visions begin. Pure
fading into the subconscious. Eternal return to where it all began. Dancing is a form of consciousness. Every beat is a
question. IADI, however, holds all the answers you need.

WRWTFWW Records is very happy to announce the release of Interwoven, the deeply moving collaborative album from Ken-ichiro Isoda and aus (Yasuhiko Fukuzono) — now available on limited edition transparent sea green colored vinyl LP housed in a heavyweight sleeve with selective-varnish 3D print, as well as in digipack CD and digital formats.
Recorded between Hachijo Island and Tokyo, Interwoven distills two visionary voices of Japanese ambient and electronic music into a single breath of feather-light and quietly luminous meditative sound.

Isoda is a revered figure of New-age and environmental music whose work on Oscilation Circuit – Série Réflexion 1 (originally released on famed label Sound Process) has long attained mythic status. He composes, notably with harp and wind instruments, produces contemporary music and video game scores, and crafts his very own brand of ambient music from the volcanic island of Hachijo-jima. Tokyo-based electronic composer and synth master aus is known for tender, melody-driven soundscapes. From the two artists comes a dialogue suspended between land and sea, bridging the generation gap and the physical distance between them.

What began as a series of sketches — impressions of water, islands, and shifting light — gradually evolved into an exchange without explanation, a correspondence of sound that dissolved boundaries. In that anonymity, both artists discovered an uncommon freedom: a place where each could move lightly and intuitively, without expectation. The music drifts with a gentle, intuitive grace: lingering piano, soft cinematic synths, and field recordings that unfold like whispered recollections, while flute and saxophone lines pass through like occasional breezes — a human presence felt as warmth more than form.

Interwoven is music for those who cherish stillness and the delicate beauty of the everyday. It’s music for admirers of Satoshi Ashikawa, Midori Takada, Satsuki Shibano, Hiroshi Yoshimura, Takashi Kokubo, Brian Eno, and all who seek a quiet refuge in sound.

In Joe Meek's last months, he produced some of his best, hard-edged mod and proto-psychedelic records - like this one. But still he clung on to the name of the Tornados, like a touchstone, reminding him of his greatest success with the 1962 hit single ‘Telstar’.

This Tornados in 1966 was very different to the original line-up, based around an entirely different group called the Saxons, and had an entirely different sound. ‘No More You And Me’ has blistering guitar lines, and an intense soulful vocal; it's a British popsike monster that drives along like the Eyes or Wimple Winch. On the flip, ‘You Always Did What You Wanted’ is British blue-eyed soul, a terrific beat ballad with hypnotic swirling piano.

Both point to directions Meek could have headed in had he lived, and are A-grade 60s beat. It's the first time on vinyl for both tracks. And it's another brace of dancefloor-friendly tracks from Bob Stanley's Measured Mile label.

As collaborative projects often do, 33 has in time found a more fixed form, a kind of structure that turned it from a loose collection of collaborators gravitating around founders Bill John Bultheel and Alexander Iezzi into something resembling more of a traditional band. Not that there is anything conventional in their creative process tho, nor in the music itself… Nontheless Tripolar - their second album and first for Haunter - seems to take them closer to song territory than ever before.

The (progressive) graduation of multi-instrumentalist Cem Dukkha and vocalist/clarinet player Ivan Cheng from collaborators to full-time members has brought 33 to a more refined awareness of their possibilities as a creative unit, although their compositional process has retained a high level of spontaneity and musical madness. Tripolar was in fact assembled by editing hours of improvisation that Bultheel, Iezzi and Dukkah recorded with no specific endgame in mind. The sessions saw them exchange a variety of acoustic, electronic and electric musical instruments: percussions, guitars, strings, piano, hurdy gurdy, synthesizers and even CDJs as a tool of live sampling manipulation.

By molding the pieces into what they are now, the band managed to concoct some beautiful vignettes of contradictory mental and emotional states, as sonically playful as a renaissance fair happening within a broken timestream. Cheng’s lyrical and vocal contributions helped them coalesce even further into proper songs, adding a melodic presence that’s at once seductive and uncanny. But vocal duties are often ceded to guests, namely Danish pop-neoclassicist Astrid Sonne, Kenyan metal guru Lord Spikeheart, Irish goth raconteur Olan Monk and Japanese body-poet Golin.The amount of different sounds arranged into each of the tracks produces a unique sense of awe and bewilderment, a testament to the incredible talent and craft the musicians have employed into putting together such a broad range of influences and approaches into a coherent and extremely effective musical journey.

An equally erratic thematic thread seems to run through all the tracks, one ultimately preoccupied with mental health and its ramifications. Without turning the project into a concept album, 33 and their collaborators have sprinkled it with references to personality disorders and mental conditions that are all too relevant to the contemporary age, reflecting on the lineage of human inner life. A wide display of lyrical and musical tools is employed to explore these themes, ranging from Sonne’s expressionist depiction of ADHD in the opener, to Cheng’s queer-themed reinvention of an Irish murder ballad in closing track ‘Babymusicc’. Tracing lateral trajectories for introspection, Tripolar is not only highly captivating, but it ultimately sounds esoteric in the best possible way: progressively revealing layer after layer of incredible aural magic, its true meaning living in the form and in its manic scope of energies.

In many ways, OLDE OUTLIER rise from the legacy of Australia’s late Innsmouth — a cult band whose 2014 debut Consumed by Elder Sign endures as an underground classic. The connection is more than symbolic: guitarist Askew, vocalist Appleton, and bassist Greenbank all passed through Innsmouth’s ranks, while Beau Dyer now leads this new incarnation after years spent shaping the sound of Innsmouth and the earlier project Grenade.

From Shallow Lives to Shallow Graves marks OLDE OUTLIER’s recorded debut, a four-track, thirty-five-minute descent into their own cavernous realm. While faint echoes of Innsmouth’s inspirations — Armoured Angel and early Samael — linger, the band draw from a broader and far more obscure constellation. Shades of Amon Goeth, Martyrium, Head of the Demon, and Florida’s Equinox collide with the spectral drift of Ophthalamia and early Katatonia and Tiamat, all eroded and blackened into something untraceable.

Despite these depths, OLDE OUTLIER avoid any sense of technical indulgence. Their sound carries a rough, deliberate simplicity — a raw and smoky power that pushes each of the four long tracks forward with unhurried certainty. The songwriting unfolds through patient repetition and subtle shifts, allowing motifs to seep into place and gradually hypnotise. Appleton’s low gutturals bring a grim, expressive edge reminiscent of early Septic Flesh or Thou Art Lord, while the more open, lead-driven riffing imparts a distinctly archaic heavy metal aura that separates this band from their origins.

At many moments, that union of grit and atmosphere surpasses even Innsmouth’s achievements. Accented by well-placed clean and chorused guitar lines, From Shallow Lives to Shallow Graves becomes an immersive and strangely timeless work — a glimpse into an ancient, dimly lit world where OLDE OUTLIER feel less like a new formation and more like something unearthed from a forgotten past.

Daniel Steinberg debuts on Rekids the Berlin-based Arms & Legs boss drops the ‘Free Living’ EP

Berlin-based producer and DJ Daniel Steinberg lands on Rekids for the fi rst time with the ‘Free Living’ EP, 13th March 2026. Active for over two decades and emerging at the height of the stripped-back, funkier end of minimal house, Steinberg has built a reputation for pairing infectious hooks with tightly programmed grooves, and has ploughed his path via his label, Arms & Legs Records, as well as labels like NuGroove, Front Room, and Southern Fried.

The title track of Daniel Steinberg’s ‘Free Living’ EP sets the tone with slow-slung, dusty House pressure, where restraint and subtlety shape a deep, immersive groove. Blues-tinged vocal fragments sit low in the mix alongside understated trumpet motifs and tender chords, forming a warm-up cut that gradually raises the energy. ‘Concrete Master’ shifts gear entirely, delivering raw, in-your-face house driven by sleazy rap snippets and snarling hits, built for peak-time impact. ‘Seven Sense’ follows with turbo-charged momentum, pairing vamping piano lines with gospel-leaning vocal stabs for hands-in-the-air release, before ‘Perfect Catch’ closes the EP with loopy chords, chopped grooves, and a playful, party-starting sensibility, delivered with characteristic precision. Founded in 2006, Radio Slave’s Rekids expanded with the techno-focused Rekids Special Projects in 2017 and its latest sublabel, REK’D, in 2024. With Matt Edwards as sole A&R, Rekids continues to champion emerging and established artists alike, remaining a trusted home for house and related sounds, with recent releases from DJ Minx, Echonomist, Tal Fussman, and more.

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process. Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever. The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before. ‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract. There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.

The first resonant space Zosha Warpeha played in was the Emanuel Vigeland Museum in Oslo, Norway. Built as a mausoleum, its walls reach up into a gradual archway, creating an environment where sound expands and reverberates for twelve seconds before decaying into silence. Warpeha was greeted only by dim lights when she entered, and it wasn’t until she had spent several minutes listening that she was able to make out the frescoes that covered every inch of the room: graphic depictions of the cycle of life from conception through death. As the sound of her Hardanger d’amore encountered the walls and these slowly emerging scenes, they obscured its point of origin in both time and space, augmenting its own life cycle. The experience sat in the back of her mind over the next several years as she developed her own patient style of composition and performance, one that comes into full bloom on her new album I grow accustomed to the dark.

When Warpeha was selected as an artist in residence at Brooklyn’s ISSUE Project Room in 2025, she saw it as an opportunity to more intentionally explore how her music might fill a room with ample natural reverb. I grow accustomed to the dark documents two single-take solo performances for Hardanger d’amore and voice at IPR, with both pieces composed in a unique tuning system developed to interact with the space itself. Listeners can trace resonance from the contact of the bow on gut strings into the body of the instrument, its five sympathetic strings offering another layer of refraction, before the sound is thrown about the cavity of the room. The echoes emerge like a photographic double exposure, or wisps of smoke that linger in the air, creating ghostly harmonic convergences that blur the line between what is there and not-there. Sound begins to act like light, a synesthetic alchemy that transforms drones into beams and ornamental trills into flickers.

Both side-long compositions, “filament” and “visual purple,” exemplify a duality that animates Warpeha’s music: an expressive, individualistic style that draws on extensive knowledge of her instrument’s history in folk traditions, and an austere, devotional quality maintained by focus and precision. Though very different in character and structure, both pieces evolve slowly through numerous repetitive phrases, passages of stillness, and bursts of intensity. “filament” opens with a cycle of delicate melodic fragments played and sung around a drone before blossoming into an outpouring of swooping arpeggios, harmonics flying from the strings like sparks off a bonfire. The disorienting pulsation of harmonic beating forms the core of “visual purple,” the close-tone dissonance building to a swarm of open strings ringing boldly throughout the space. After the knotty tones reach their climax, the piece collapses into studied quietude, hushed, but without any drop in intensity.

When Warpeha first visited the Vigeland Museum in 2019, she was in Oslo to deepen her relationship to the Hardanger fiddle through the study of Norwegian traditional music, which is primarily passed down aurally. The experience of learning songs by ear, not only internalizing the tune but also absorbing the techniques and tonalities by listening, was a crucial step in her development as a composer. The years since have seen her sharpen those skills as a prolific member of the New York avant-garde and improvised music communities. Warpeha’s music encourages listeners to join her in this journey, to listen closely with each repeated phrase and through each dramatic shift. Like the frescoes on Vigeland’s walls, with time and intention, the depth of I grow accustomed to the dark comes on like a revelation.

»Low Tide, Hi Grypus!« is the new live-iteration of JC Leisure as JC Leisure Group. Documenting an encounter and a communication between human improvisers and atlantic grey seals. The record presents responsive improvisation as a form of cross-species collaboration.

The project began on Porthdinllaen, Wales, where Leisure recorded seal vocalisations from a local colony at low tide. Back in their Liverpool studio, Leisure developed a performance system that translates human musical gestures – pitch, timbre, rhythm, density, presence - into triggers for these seal expressions. The resulting system is dual-active, as in it simultaneously acts and is acted upon in the horizontal instance. It creates a new-music non-linear threshold that cannot be replicated.

»Low Tide, Hi Grypus!« was recorded live at 1210 Berlin and captures one instance of this concept. Local improvisers were invited to encounter the performance system. Recorded in one take, pedal-steel, woodwinds, strings, piano, organ, and electronics gradually learn to listen and respond to the marine voices. This interspecific group moves from intimate duets (that's human, seal) into full ensemble works (humans, seals) over the course of one night.

Rather than treating field recordings as static material, the extensive seal archive functions as an active collaborator: shaping form, pacing, and interaction in real-time. Now that’s marine biology meets human communication!

JC Leisure has previously released work on Sun Ark, Warm Winters Ltd, Not Not Fun and collaboratively with Dialect as Raft of Trash. He has composed a radio play commissioned and broadcast by BBC Radio.

This is a special work by acclaimed composer and musician Adriaan de Roover, who has released records on Dauw, VIERNULVIER, PIAS, and Consouling Sounds. Chansons de trottoir / Stoepliedjes documents his relationship to sampling in the form of a radio play.

Originally created as a radio piece for Resonance FM in Manchester, the album is a sonic portrait of a walk through Brussels. It is constructed from two field recordings: one made during a walk from Metro Midi towards Adriaan’s home, and another recorded on a walk towards Flagey. Rather than foregrounding recognizable landmarks, the piece focuses on the pavement underfoot: the steady, repetitive rhythm of footsteps on sidewalk tiles.

The recordings are mixed with samples from the music of the Brussels hip-hop group STIKSTOF. Their music became the soundtrack to a period in which Adriaan’s desire to move from Antwerp to Brussels began to take shape. Through repeated listening, the city of Brussels gradually revealed itself to him. This experience echoes that of countless music fans who, while listening to The Beatles, imagine what Liverpool might be like: a city revealed through sound and myth, often crystallized in lukewarm Hard Rock Café–style projections.

Chansons de trottoir / Stoepliedjes is an exercise in sampling and an exploration of how one might find a personal place within the music of others. It frames appropriation as an attentive and considered act. Suspended between memory and imagination, the piece exists closer to a dream state than to reportage.

Lush Life is the Sonar Kollektiv debut EP by German singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Flo Naegeli.

Originally hailing from the Bavarian forests of southeastern Germany, Naegeli began his musical journey at the age of seven as a folk accordionist, later switching to electric guitar and developing a disciplined approach to songwriting and musicianship that led to formal music studies and a professional career. After moving to eastern Germany, he gradually stepped away from band projects to focus on solo work, embracing self-production tools to realise a sound that blends soulful songwriting with warm, organic instrumentation.

Written and largely recorded by Naegeli himself, Lush Life is a deeply personal yet accessible collection of songs reflecting on fatherhood, family relationships and friendship.

Chalybeate documents a month long stay by Tokyo based producer aus in Ikaho, one of Japan's most established Onsen (hot spring) towns, during autumn 2024.

Working from field-recordings captured inside multiple ryokan baths, aus synthesized the subterranean movement of the onsen's with local details: the bubbling of source water, the hoozuki lantern plants and wind chimes placed at each inn, and the surrounding insects and birds. Rather than portraying Ikaho as a landscape, the recordings trace the town's respiration.

The material was first presented on site as an installation unfolding across eight different baths, where visitors listened while soaking in roten-buro (open air hot baths). The project drew wide attention for proposing listening as a bodily act, inseparable from heat, moisture, and duration.

Chalybeate re constructs that installation as an album. The recordings were left to sit for a year within Ikaho's air and humidity, allowing the sound itself to slowly change. The title refers to Ikaho's iron rich mineral water, known as "Golden Water," which oxidizes upon contact with air and leaves rust colored traces in its baths. Following this process, the album's sound was repeatedly re submerged and re worked, gradually absorbing a corroded texture.

Tape hiss, gentle distortion, and subtle fluctuations rise quietly, like steam.
What remains is not documentation but residue.

Mixing was handed over to Manchester based producer The Humble Bee by Craig Tattersall, known for his work with The Boats and The Remote Viewer, after aus exhausted himself traversing Ikaho's steep stone steps. The exchange mirrors the work itself: from bathtub to hot spring, from sound to something that surrounds the body.

Woodwind like tape noise and the movement of water dissolve into one another.
The music does not arrive all at once. It settles slowly, as if lowering into warm water.

Roman Khropko delivers four cuts balancing precision club mechanics with flashes of emotion. The record moves between stripped minimal techno and warmer electro, designed to unfold gradually.
The A side opens with Glimpse, a straight-forward roller driven by tight drums and a suspenseful build. Piece of Truth follows with a funkier swing, blending elastic basslines with subtle tech house inflections that keep things in motion.
On the B side, Fractum settles into a hypnotic minimal tech mood, laying steady groundwork for an extended club stretch. The closing track, Among The Machines, shifts into emotional electro territory, carrying melodic tension that leaves a melancholic aftertaste.
A concise and functional toolset for the dancefloor. This is one to stay in your bag for a long time.