quête:rea

"“Veruschka” is a unique film within the Italian cinematic landscape of the early 1970s — halfway between experimental cinema, visual art, and fashion. Directed by photographer Franco Rubartelli, it tells (in a highly symbolic and almost dreamlike way) the story of Veruschka von Lehndorff, the famous model and muse of the director, who plays herself in a journey of inner exploration and alienation through Africa and the world of fashion photography.
It is not a narrative film in the traditional sense, but rather a visual and sensory experience, made of extraordinary imagery, contemplative rhythm, and a constant sense of aesthetic melancholy. And for this very reason, Ennio Morricone’s score plays a fundamental role: it is the true emotional voice of the film.
For Veruschka, Morricone composed one of his most delicate and spiritual works. The soundtrack is a perfect balance between avant- garde and lyricism, between melody and sonic experimentation."

Das dritte Album der Londoner Band Sorry!

Seit ihrem Debüt "925" 2020 arbeiten Sorry an einer Topografie aus Anspielungen, Zitaten, falschen Fährten. Nun, mit COSPLAY (ab 7. November bei Domino), reißen sie die Landkarte ab, zeichnen alles neu. Ein Album als Maskenball: Jede Figur darf hier auftreten, lebend oder tot, real oder erdacht. Es ist das Werk, das Sorry von sich selbst befreit. Das Album fühlt sich an wie ein Spielzimmer für popkulturelle Geister. Ein Guided by Voices-Song mutiert zur Ballade über die Schmuddelecken des Ruhms, die berühmteste Cartoonfigur der Welt schleicht sich als Sirene ins Bild, theoretische Physik wird zu Rockmusik, die schwerer schlägt als jede Formel. Sorry haben das neue Material bereits live erprobt, erst auf eigener UK-Tour, dann als Support von Fontaines D.C., und man hört die Mischung aus Selbstsicherheit und Übermut, die dabei gewachsen ist.

Das dritte Album der Londoner Band Sorry!

Seit ihrem Debüt "925" 2020 arbeiten Sorry an einer Topografie aus Anspielungen, Zitaten, falschen Fährten. Nun, mit COSPLAY (ab 7. November bei Domino), reißen sie die Landkarte ab, zeichnen alles neu. Ein Album als Maskenball: Jede Figur darf hier auftreten, lebend oder tot, real oder erdacht. Es ist das Werk, das Sorry von sich selbst befreit. Das Album fühlt sich an wie ein Spielzimmer für popkulturelle Geister. Ein Guided by Voices-Song mutiert zur Ballade über die Schmuddelecken des Ruhms, die berühmteste Cartoonfigur der Welt schleicht sich als Sirene ins Bild, theoretische Physik wird zu Rockmusik, die schwerer schlägt als jede Formel. Sorry haben das neue Material bereits live erprobt, erst auf eigener UK-Tour, dann als Support von Fontaines D.C., und man hört die Mischung aus Selbstsicherheit und Übermut, die dabei gewachsen ist.

Ein inspiriertes Treffen musikalischer Köpfe erzeugt eine mehrdimensionale Noir-Welt auf diesem luftig-intimen, wunderschönen Kooperationsalbum. Zugleich der Höhepunkt seiner Disciples-Trilogie, treibt Ruth Mascelli (Special Interest) zusammen mit Mary Hanson Scott die paranoiden Torch-Songs des Vorgängers "Non-Stop Healing Frequency" in noch liminalere und abgehobenere Gefilde. Die Songseite ist stärker denn je, während die FX-beschallten Rohrblatt-Klänge von Mary Hanson Scott nicht nur Ruths verführerisches Gesäusel perfekt untermalen, sondern auch ein wolkig-ambientes Klangbett für die Instrumentals bilden, die die Sequenzen zusammenhalten und zu einer wahrhaft emotional mitreißenden Reise formen. Mit Gastauftritten von Jae Matthews (Boy Harsher) und Maria Elena (Special Interest). Im Coverdesign von Brett LaBauve von der Queer-Dance-Party-Institution Gimme A Reason, New Orleans. Zu den Höhepunkten zählt die episch-sehnsuchtsvolle Power-Ballade "Haunted Hearts", das hinreißende Zeitlupen-Cover des Hi-NRG-Pop(per)-Knallers "Self Control" und die zerhackten Rhythmen von "A Lover's Theory Of Value" zwischen abgestumpftem Trip-Hop und Julee Cruise, während "Vaseline Lens" an die elegischen Klagelieder über den Niedergang auf Seite 2 des Debütalbums "A Night At The Baths" erinnert.

Jesse Harris’ Freund und Arrangeur Maycon Ananias hatte zusätzliche Aufnahmezeit mit einem estnischen Orchester und lud Harris ein, ein Stück beizusteuern. Das erste Experiment, Dolores, entfachte eine neue kreative Richtung. Obwohl Harris – Grammy-Preisträger und langjähriger Wegbegleiter von Norah Jones, Willie Nelson und Cat Power – bereits mehr als zwanzig Alben veröffentlicht hatte, war es seine erste Aufnahme mit Orchester. Beflügelt von dieser Erfahrung schrieb Harris innerhalb von nur fünf Wochen acht weitere Songs – detailreiche Kompositionen, die von Beginn an für symphonische Arrangements gedacht waren. Entstanden ist ein Album, das zwischen New York, Rio und Talinn aufgenommen wurde und hochkarätige Gäste wie Norah Jones, den brasilianischen Gitarristen Guilherme Monteiro, Jake Sherman sowie Marine Quéméré von Nouvelle Vague vereint.Mit seinen opulenten, zugleich feinfühligen Arrangements taucht If You Believed In Me in Themen wie Erinnerung, Sehnsucht und imaginierte Möglichkeiten ein – in die „Was-wäre-wenns“, die jeden Träumer begleiten. Herausgekommen ist orchestraler Pop voller Wärme, Melancholie und leiser Überraschungen – ausgelöst durch eine einzige Einladung.

Debut full length of old school DEATH METAL on a timeless warpath strewn with familiar and unknown terrors beyond.

Timelessly in the vein of Bolt Thrower, Nihilist, Entombed and Dismember where death takes bearing on the facade of life.

LIMITED to 666 COPIES WORLDWIDE

Sex Tags UFO presents the second instalment of the non stop ongoing HOUSE music collaboration between the Burger man and DJ Sommer! Music created as house music as a FEELING!

Another four track EP smashing out some fine underground house music, all with the mix of DJ Sommers studio skills and old-school hardware approach, and the Burger man's wonky touch! The almost weekly live session recorded in DJ Sommer's studio, then arranged and mixed at Casa de Fett bare some fruits, and here is their first record!

The first track on this EP, a deep and mellow house groover, with some trippy beats and percussion that keeps it moving. Deep pad, with a light and engaging melody on top. A real house groover to start the night.

The second cut, the energy shifts! A power infused feel good house track with spacey elements, timeless and simple 909 kick, a catchy bass line, swinging hi-hats for the groove, a strong classic snap. Added with some keyboard infused organ melody, and a 303 bass line. Sparkled with some synth EFX to give it a feeling of Galaxy!

One the flip side we go back to the depth. A deep tribalistic and dubbed out house track. Simple by all means. A moving and grooving beat added with a simple but catchy pad that brings everything together! Simple, pure and groovy!

The last tune on the EP, another uplifting energy driven house track! Classic US house style, with the driving, and swinging beats to make you move. With an uplifting organ pad, and some additional party oriented flute action! A real underground party smasher!

Just as previous time, versatile, simple, raw dance floor oriented HOUSE EP made in and for the underground!

Enjoy!

TRON: Ares (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)
24 neue Tracks von Nine Inch Nails: das Duo aus Trent Reznor und Atticus Ross veröffentlicht am 19.
September 2025 sein Album zum Disney-Kultfilm „TRON: Ares“, inklusive der neuen Single „As Alive As
You Need Me To Be”. Damit setzt die Band eine erfolgreiche Soundtrack-Geschichte fort: ihre vorherigen
Untermalungen zu Filmen wie „The Social Network“ (2010), „Soul“ (2020) oder „Challengers“ (2024)
wurden unter anderem mit zwei Oscars, drei Golden Globes, einem Emmy und einem Grammy ausgezeichnet. Die düstere Industrial-Handschrift Trent Reznors fängt die Stimmung der Sci-Fi-Reihe „TRON“, für
deren letzten Film Daft Punk komponierten, perfekt ein. Reznors Einfluss auf die alternative Musikwelt ist
seit den späten 80ern ungebrochen: mit Hits wie „Closer“ und „Hurt“ sowie Alben wie „The Downward
Spiral“ kombinierte das Mastermind elektronische Sounds mit Rockmusik wie nie zuvor. „TRON: Ares“ ist
die erste NIN Veröffentlichung seit fünf Jahren und liefert gleich 70 Minuten neue Musik – erhältlich ab
dem 19.09. auf CD und Vinyl.

"Love it! Electronic wonkiness at its finest" - Richard Norris (The Grid)

TEA, CAKES AND THE (WO)MAN MACHINE

Curtain Twitcher could only have emerged from Sheffield.
A female electronic duo whose corrupted downtempo post Balearic chug pulses and wobbles, throbs and twitches - full of fat noises and bolshy Moogery.
It's human and appealingly analogue. More Delia Derbyshire's Radiophonic Workshop than DAF, More Tangerine Dream than Depeche Mode. Not your average bloketronica.

Frankly this music doesn't behave itself in any way you might expect. Plugged in post rave pop can be far too orderly. Music should be messy. Even on occasion revealing a tune your mum could hum.

"Leap The Dips" emerged from machine jamming with a creative freedom that only comes from friendship. That friendship is a musical one but it's also real and genuine: "We’ll talk about pretty much owt if you provide the tea and cakes".

Acclaimed electronic musicians, producers and sound architects Max Cooper and Rob Clouth team up for a new collaborative EP; a dark, playful four-track dive into ambient, breakbeat and techno’s subconscious flow, featuring a standout vocal performance from South London rapper FLOHIO.

Recorded over a series of spontaneous London sessions, “8 Billion Realities” channels years of creative exchange between two of the genre’s most quietly innovative artists and is a result of a decision between the longtime friends to refrain from conceptual overthinking in favour of instinct and joy.

As long-time admirers of each other’s audio/visual work, Cooper and Clouth collaborated in London together after both emerging from intense, idea-heavy album cycles. What followed was a series of exploratory sessions, half-improvised, half-built around half-formed thoughts.

The result is a club-ready EP that feels alive and human: imperfect and hypnotically rich.

“Rob Clouth has been one of my favourite electronic music producers since I first heard his work in 2011,” says Cooper. “His work is more full of ideas and structure than anyone else.” “We were both coming from extensive conceptual studio albums and both in the mood for simplifying things and having some fun with the music, so that’s what we did”.

For Clouth, no stranger to Max Coopers Mesh label having previously released an array of EP’s plus his 2020 debut album “Zero Point” this record marks a new chapter, both creatively and personally.“Something pretty new for me is collaborating,” he says. “You kind of have to when to stop, because if you develop an idea all the way to its endpoint, the other person has nowhere to jump in.”

The first “A Moment Set Aside” began as a break from another idea, a live, unplanned improvisation based around arps and ambience. “The track was written in about as long as it took to play it,” says Cooper. “It was pulled from a 1 hour recording session, more or less as you hear it… the energy and excitement grew as the unplanned moment bore some magic.”

“The lesson being that sometimes it’s helpful to set aside a moment without forcing results, and let the subconscious have something to say.” What followed was darker, heavier. “Asymptote” is detuned techno. Subversive and euphoric in its descent. “We found a sort of brain mangling, half consonant, half wandering detuned techno pulse, which we started chatting about being a sort of pit of spiralling body parts we were falling into,” says Cooper. “It was a lot of fun to work on and let loose with bigger kicks than I usually ever get to unleash.”

Then came “8 Billion Realities”, featuring a standout rap performance from FLOHIO; an emerging figure in the UK grime and rap scene. The track was inspired by conversations about algorithmic echo chambers and hyper-personalised online worlds. Frantic, direct, and South London to the core, FLOHIO brings this tension to life. Her sharp, intense flow cuts through distortion and rhythm, landing the track somewhere between chaos and control instantly making it one of the most striking moments in either artist’s catalogue. “A different reality for all 8 billion of us,” says Cooper. “We weren’t sure if it would work… but there was something about the energy of the percussive idea and the story which felt like it might fit.” “Then FLOHIO had a play with it and straight off the bat absolutely killed it, not just with the lyrics and energy, but the harmonising too, it was a beautiful process.”

The final piece on the EP “Candeleda” originated from Clouth’s solo experiments with a live rig made entirely of vocals and keys, using his self-developed “cheatbox” system. “He put forward a beautiful stumbling melodic sequence which we bounced back and forth adding harmonies and synth layers,” says Cooper. “It rounds off a collection covering some of the breadth of music that we both love.”

In an intricate lattice of ever-evolving electro exploration, Samuel Van Dijk is back on Delsin with a new EP. Under his VC-118A alias, the Helsinki based producer presents a richly textured, cinematic strain of machine funk that reaches beyond dancefloor functionality to test the expressive potential locked within electro's crisp rhythmic framework. There's a melancholic mood hovering over Avian as Van Dijk allows a subtle edge of distortion to creep into his flickering drum programming. The end result is a pensive sound that touches on the moodiness of orchestral composition, unfurling patiently across extended run times without losing focus. With his characteristic attention to detail and broad dynamic range, Van Dijk continues to offer up a sophisticated, emotionally-charged strain of electro like no other.

The third drop into the Poorly Knit ocean, sees Bruce washed ashore with three silted and barnacled explorations into dub techno, ambient and beyond.

Seizing the microphone for the first time since his sophomore album Not Ready For Love, Bruce weaves a seductive siren song with Golden Water Queen, treading sweet nothings into the bubbling abyss. Sinking further into the deep, The Hand fizzes and froths at the fringes of nothingness, born from the wishing of a softer and more insidious soundtrack to Denis Villeneuve’s Dune. Then finally the waves are parted with DHam’s Jam, bobbing along 8 minutes of bouncing kick and prancing percussion, pulling you with peaceful buoyancy along the dancefloor, into “the zone.”

With a continued emphasis on the importance of physical medium within dance music, the 12” is pressed with eco-friendly “Eco-Mix” reground PVC and sleeved in DIY lino printed sleeves.

FSL returns with a 12" from Germany born, Dublin based artist Small Crab on her label debut.

Deemed "one to watch in 2025" by Mixmag, real name Anastasia Rigaud takes us on an education of Introspective and laid out steppers for the smoked out dark room.

To top it all off the release features a very driving main room cut mix from London based, Dublin's son Glimmerman.

In May, fans were treated to the first new music from Trentemøller since 2022. A new single, "A Different Light," showcased a stunning blend of prismatic space rock and folk. For anyone wondering if it foreshadowed the release of a full-length, Dreamweaver will drop in September, on Friday the 13th.
Featuring 10 tracks that traverse Trentemøller's many musical strengths, Dreamweaver also represents an obvious artistic leap, treading new ground while retaining the overall plot. Tracks featuring vocals come courtesy of of Iceland's Disa, who has been in Trentemøller's fold since the Memoria tour.
Dreamweaver's nylon string-led opening track, and first single from the album, "A Different Light," contains many of Trentemøller's trademarks: exploring dichotomies, musical shadowplay, Nordic frigidity, and warm waves. It opens the door for the steady, hypnotic "Nightfall," with its tetherless vocal, wistful guitars, and early morning desert chill. The third track in the opening trifecta, "Dreamweavers" finds its footing with a percussive soft trot, which starts after what feels like a shortwave radio scan in search of the right chords, eventually dialing in a weightless voice. Ostensibly keeping a ruminative pace with the previous two tracks, the song and, by extension, album soon opens up as the rest of the elements drop into place with a grand, luxurious burst.
Dreamweaver is about to enter its next phase. With the hatch blown off of the portal, the noisy "I Give My Tears," driven by its glissed and fuzzy bass line, pours into the void. It's followed by its sibling, the most chaotic track on Dreamweaver, "Behind My Eyes." Arriving as a piece of noise rock pandemonium, "Behind My Eyes," can't be contained in its plush vault. A whip-crack snare and convulsing guitars smash against each other in the song's verse chamber. The tension builds, as the particles collide, pushing past the point of critical mass, kicking off the chain reaction which is the chorus. At times it harkens back to the proto-gaze tracks that gave birth to dream pop, at others it newly defines what that is. There's no time to contemplate it, though, as the song disintegrates in a microphonic feedback instant.
A respite follows with the somnambulistic pair of "Hollow" and "Empty Beaches." Then, a moment of intensity returns as the soaring textures and tribal drum bursts of "In A Storm" take control, before being taken out with the ambient slo-core of "Winter's Ghost" and "Closure." This diptych wraps up an album which certainly feels on-script for Trentemøller, but is also much more psychedelic than previous offerings.
Dreamweaver will be released on Trentemøller's own In My Room label. It is an exceedingly immersive experience, bound to release any dormant hallucinations you may be harboring.

funcionário delights in the freedom of creating freeform music for the first time in his career. On “horizonte”, he loosens the reins, his sound follows a wavy, organic structure rather than a rigid, formal one. If it feels freer and more colourful, that’s because it truly is.

Eight years ago, when we first encountered his work, he was composing soundtracks for imaginary video games and crafting sonic landscapes that felt like destinations for sci-fi anime characters. With “Cavalcante” (2022), he broke away from that past. It marked a turning point, he was ready to explore a “fourth world” in both sound and concept. The feedback was overwhelming.

Three years later, “horizonte” marks another evolution. He sends us music regularly, but this album stood out immediately. It felt right: more synth-driven, more open to improvisation. As he put it: “It’s like using oil pastels for the first time and discovering new possibilities. In a way, I’ve found new ways of creating using the same colours.”

Listening to horizonte is like waking up from a dream. Again and again. The opening track, “nascer”, suggests a new dawn, but it’s in “pássaros” that the vision fully takes flight: less processed, more raw, yet still detailed and expansive.

Finding new ways with the same colours has been his quiet mission all along. What’s new here aren't the tools, but the feeling. The movement. The invitation to travel with him. You can hear - and feel - his sense of wonder. Every sound radiates joy. Every moment sparks a new thought. The music moves quickly, but breathes slowly.

Tracks like “renascer” and “o caminho do regresso” echo the spirit of late-70s/early-80s Vangelis, in deep reverence. And just as you approach the end, “fantasma” arrives - a stunning closer, reminiscent of Eno’s “An Ending”. By then, it’s clear: the “fourth world” is behind him. funcionário has moved on. To where? We’re about to discover.

The word "amateur" originates from the Latin word "amator," meaning "lover" or "admirer". This Latin term is derived from "amare," which means "to love". The French adopted "amateur" from Latin, and the English then borrowed it from French, initially retaining the sense of someone who loves or is devoted to something. Over time, the English usage of "amateur" also developed a meaning related to a lack of professional skill or experience. How did a word derived from love become a slur? Is love really so defenseless? They say love conquers all, but in reality isn’t love quite ridiculous? It has no intention, no motive, no agenda. How could it possibly prevail? It can’t be bought or sold, or so they say.Its mere existence can't be proven or even measured. What an impossible thing. Trying and failing, time and time again, no wonder cynicism always seems to win. I see “amateurism” as a delighted, even foolish, protest. Protest against everything. Of what’s expected of someone, or expected of someone to desire or strive for. To be elite, to be expert, to be professional, to be a master, to excel and succeed. Where’s the joy in that? I just want to have fun. I want to want. I want to love. And keep doing it, forever. I want to have fun, even when it’s tiring and sometimes even heaven is boring as hell. I want to be bad. I want to do my own thing. “I vant to be alone”. I want to be someone so dedicated to their passion that it starts to seem like there’s something wrong with them. All the way. We can take it all the way, and never get it back. ” - Molly Nilsson Amateur is the 12th studio album by Molly Nilsson. Deep in the teeth of a career that threatens to tip into something resembling a “legacy,” Molly Nilsson celebrates with an album recorded instinctively, quickly and bursting with so many moments of emotional brilliance and clarity it may be her greatest yet. Hers has been a career spent reaching out, perennially powerful in her earnestness, a warrior ridiculously defenceless and armed with a glittering sincerity. Shearing herself of the machinations of the music industry, recording at home, writing direct to the heart. Amateur is a jubilee for losers. A treatise in 13 songs, Amateur states clearly that we should live our life with eternal curiosity, offers us an open hand of comradeship out of the rat race. The songs on the album are both some of the most personal of Nilsson’s career and the most anthemic. First single How Much Is The World asks us to re-evaluate value in the face of a Neo-liberal system squeezing the life out of our loves. Pulsing opener Die Cry Lie satirises the commercialisation of emotion in the form of a shout-along diss-track. With a pounding rhythm track held down by gorgeous chord changes, heartbreaker Valhalla carries the torch for the main themes of the album: never growing up, making mistakes with kindness, moving on. When the drums crash in on the line “It’s going to get better now, you’ll see, going to be much better off without me” there is a world of feeling swirling about in the vocal delivery. One reading of the track might be that it’s a break up song but the subtext is classic Molly Nilsson: by living truthfully, making mistakes, we’re active agents against the myriad oppressions of the world. All The Way takes the theme for a run into the eternal sunset. It’s a manifesto for living fully. “Take it all the way, and never get it back” - it’s the process that’s the important point. The journey not the destination. Big Life, follows on like a part 2: An ode not only to Molly Nilsson’s career of endless gigs, endless connections with people, it’s a massive ode for following your dreams, doing it yourself. Closer The Bitter End is a powerful anthem for friendship, another definition of love infused in Nilsson’s work, A beautifully poignant ode to comradeship til the end, it seems to be the songwriter approaching aging, approaching life’s inevitability with the same vigour and earnestness, the same love of life she enjoyed at the onset of her career. There are moments on Amateur shrouded in reverb, slightly out of focus, forcing the listener to step deeper into the Mollyverse.. Nilsson’s open-armed beseeching to the world permeates every beat, every chord. These are songs exploding with life: the chunky, aggressive bassline on the punker Get A Life can’t hide its massive, catchy chorus. The sweeping Swedish Nightmare might be a tongue-in-cheek self-reference, but at its heart it’s a song about the duality of living life large, what is a dream, what is a nightmare? Molly Nilsson says you can’t have one without the other, and why would you want to? Here’s to making mistakes.

Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok’s »Uncontrollable Thoughts« on Morr Music is the duo’s debut joint release. The Netherlands-based Georgian composer and the German sound artist from Berlin first met in 2019 in the context of a workshop programme that took place in Tbilisi, and later worked with Eto Gelashvili, Hayk Karoyi, and Lillevan on the massive »Glacier Music II« music and book project, released in 2021. This led them to engage in a less conceptually driven form of musicking and real-time composition that corresponds with their respective environments. They draw on traditions such as minimal music or late 1990s and early 2000s electronica to integrate subtle beats with elegiac organ drones, playful melodies with lush textures. The first document of an ever-shifting intergenerational dialogue, »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is a product of mutual listening outside time.

Though Chkheidze and Lippok had access to professional studios, they chose to rent a simple rehearsal space, equipped with only the bare essentials—bass and guitar amps as well as a small PA—to maintain immediacy in their working process. The music they made together corresponded to and drew on the respective possibilities and shortcomings of this studio, much like their collaboration in general is characterised by the care with which they approach each other's talents and ideas. While both had loosely defined roles—Chkheidze was responsible for the free-flowing beat programming and the evocative distortion came courtesy of Lippok, for example—they individually contributed in different ways to their joint process, which is as free of hierarchies as it is limitless. Hence, the duo’s focus on spontaneity and out-of-the-moment emergence makes them organically move beyond tried and tested conventions, resulting in music that seems to suspend time altogether.

When the first chimes on »Bird Song« announce a piece that sets rattling kickdrums against a backdrop of layered drones and rhizomatically entangled melodic elements, it becomes clear why »Uncontrollable Thoughts« carries this title: The album follows the constant detours of the subconscious of its makers, letting them explore moments of ecstasy such as on »Rainbow,« melancholy with »Field,« and the interplay of suspense and release through the ten-minute-long title track. But the different pieces also tie into one aother in various ways. The dirge-like organ drones on which »Rainbow Road« ends reappear in the beginning of »Uncontrollable Thoughts,« much like Chkheidze’s gentle yet emphatic piano chords on »Field« seem to provide the starting point from which the artist develops the striking motifs of the final piece »Opening«, whose title itself suggests that the record as a whole can and should be enjoyed as a loop. All this creates a unique, idiosyncratic temporal logic.

While there is much that sets Chkheidze and Lippok apart as solo artists, the major shared leitmotif in their respective bodies of work is the sonic engagement with space. »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is hence best understood as an extension of this practice; as an album that maps the geographies of their minds in motion, tracing musical movements as they melt into each other.

Recital releases The Holy Restaurant, the new full-length album by Derek Baron, and their first solo LP since Curtain (Recital, 2020).

The album is built from years of miniature transcriptions of improvisations, functioning in many ways as a sister to Curtain. Half-thoughts and mistakes are revisited, gilded, and illuminated. The floorboards of the album are laid with piano, organ, string pads, while serrated accruements (distortions, flourishes, and recording interferences) step and drop overhead. The resulting conflux, as Baron notes in the accompanying booklet “becomes the point and the problem to explore.”

The second track “Oven Girls” opens with us galloping on a horse in some video-game meadow on a bed of MIDI strings. Abruptly, a helicopter soars over us and we transition to a latticed guitar and woodwind exploration. The album rolls on in this fashion, juxtaposing musical half-sentences within a museum of sounds rag-picked from history and daily life. Emotional interviews with Midwestern friars who build and sell caskets are set against gothic piano and guitar duets. On “Music in the Casket,” A disorienting and hilariously epic guitar solo erupts. The penultimate titular piece, “The Holy Restaurant,” sets a text written by Baron’s grandfather. A small chorus voices his words, echoing the humanistic storytelling of “Blue” Gene Tyranny’s A Letter From Home. Under sunlit piano progressions, a fleet of smokey trumpets emerges.

Running throughout the album is a series of “traces”: short melodic phrases painted over again and again with different real and MIDI instrumentation. The “luxurious asceticism of doubling” as Baron puts it. They explain, “Part of the allure for me is that the ‘original’ material is itself kind of thin, sketchy, meaningless, maybe calling attention to itself only by way of a felicitous mistake. Hearing, transcribing, and learning what was basically only ever played first on accident becomes the guiding concern.”

The album’s shifting, variegated forms and voices pass quickly; the record feels both comforting and elusive, suitable for any hour of the day.

The Holy Restaurant features guest players Ed Atkins, Lucy Liyou, Quentin Moore, Emily Martin, Dominic Frigo, Jacob Wick, and several of Baron’s family members. It is released in a limited edition vinyl pressing of 200 copies, accompanied by a booklet of effusive program notes by the composer, alongside an assemblage of photographs, scores, and artwork.

For the third time, they had been sent to this forsaken land. It was neither east nor west, neither north nor south. They said it had once been a kingdom, somewhere in the heart of the old continent, something they had pieced together from the ruins scattered across jagged hills sprouting here and there from the ground. Everyone else went islands, dived to the seabed, drilled at the poles, and explored waste in the east, but these two were sent here again, as if someone were trying to get rid of them, just to keep them out of the way.

What were they really supposed to find here? They wandered the land, aimless and bored, like the last bird watching from the sky. Sometimes they landed, took samples for the lab, and then caught a nap by the river bend. They avoided the hot fumes of active volcanoes. Compared to those on other planets, these were more like small, whispered fumaroles, but even so, they had to be careful.

They felt as if they had stepped into a scene from a movie they had once glimpsed. A mad and exhausted conqueror screamed and wildly flailed his arms on a ridiculous wooden raft in the middle of a raging river. It was somewhere in the south of this planet, deep in the jungle. There were many movies made on this planet, but only fragments of the reels survived, and this one quickly became iconic.

When a trumpet sounded in the distance and flooded the land with a booming murmur, when all the fumaroles hissed together, and when wind rolled in, covering the land in heavy fog, both of them knew the third expedition would not be like the previous ones.

At that moment, Kult Masek and Petr Vrba were flying over the land that was once called České středohoří.