Cerca:real lies

Moumneh (Jerusalem In My Heart) und Oberland (Oiseaux-Tempête) festigen mit diesem Debüt-Studioalbum als Duo ihre langjährige Zusammenarbeit: eine überzeugende Synthese ihrer jeweiligen und gemeinsamen Sensibilität. Durch die Verschmelzung von elektronischen Klängen mit akustischen Instrumenten wie Bouzouki, Rababa, Clarineau und Saxophon, ergänzt durch Moumnehs arabischen Gesang, entsteht ein Album, das von Empörung und Klage über unsere suprematistische und rassistische Gesellschaft geprägt ist. Das Album verbindet vibrierende Elektronik mit akustischen Instrumenten wie Bouzouki, Rababa, Clarineau und Saxophon, gewürzt mit Moumnehs arabischem Gesang, und ist geprägt von Empörung und Klage über unsere supremacistische und genozidale politische Gegenwart. Radwan Ghazi Moumneh und Frédéric D. Oberland wechseln zwischen Sinnlichem und Unterdrücktem und schaffen mit ihrem Debütalbum eine poetische musikalische Verkündigung der verwandelten Realität und sozialen Amnesie. Diese sieben Titel entstanden in zweijähriger Zusammenarbeit und begannen als eine Reihe von Duetten, die Moumneh im Sommer 2023 im Studio Hotel2Tango in Montréal initiierte. Der arabische Titel von Eternal Life No End lässt sich wörtlich mit ,Eine dunkle, verfluchte Nacht, wie die Suchenden selbst" übersetzen. Das Album ist ein Aufschrei inmitten der Ozeane der Ungerechtigkeit, die die SWANA-Region überschwemmen und das Leben und die Visionen der Suchenden selbst heimsuchen. Der arabische Titel von Eternal Life No End lässt sich wörtlich übersetzen mit ,Eine dunkle, verfluchte Nacht, wie die Suchenden selbst" und das Album ist ein Aufschrei inmitten der Ozeane der Ungerechtigkeit, die die SWANA-Region überschwemmen und das Leben und die Visionen großer Bevölkerungsgruppen verfolgen. Wie Dante und Vergil in Dantes ,Inferno" zeichnen die Kompositionen von Oberland und Moumneh einen emotionalen Strudel nach, während Traumzeit in tranceartige Percussion und hypnotische Melodien einfließt und kollektive Dringlichkeiten kanalisiert, die sich durch Radwans Stimme und arabische Texte ziehen. Oberlands Passagen auf dem Saxophon und der Klarinette beschwören schamanische Beschwörungen des Bösen herauf, während Moumnehs Buzuk oft durch elektronische Bearbeitung und Schwärme mit stürmischer Trauer über sich entfaltende Tragödien untermalt wird. Eine Reihe von Instrumenten vervollständigt die Klanglandschaften: Daf (eine Rahmentrommel aus dem Nahen Osten) und Bongos, eine modifizierte elektrische Rababa, bebender Bass und andere synthetische Filigranarbeiten von Oberland. Eine Reihe von Instrumenten vervollständigt die breiteren Klanglandschaften: Daf (eine nahöstliche Rahmentrommel) und Bongos, eine modifizierte elektrische Rababa, bebender Bass und andere synthetische Filigranarbeiten von Oberlands Buchla- und Deckard's Dream-Synthesizern. ,Es ist in gewisser Weise ein Heilungsprozess", sagt Oberland über das Werk. ,Seit Beginn des Völkermords hatte ich eine komplette künstlerische Blockade und war unfähig, das auszudrücken, was die Menschen durchleben", erklärt Moumneh, der schließlich ,die Worte der Opfer" in seine Texte einfließen ließ. ,Es ist in gewisser Weise ein Heilungsprozess", sagt Oberland über das Werk. ,Seit Beginn des Völkermords hatte ich eine völlige künstlerische Blockade und war unfähig, das auszudrücken, was die Menschen durchleben", erklärt Moumneh, der schließlich seine Instrumente und seine Ausrüstung zusammenpackte und im Sommer 2024 nach Paris flog , um mit seinem langjährigen Freund ernsthaft an dem Album zu arbeiten. Die beiden hatten bereits mehrfach zusammengearbeitet, mit Oberlands Hauptband Oiseaux-Tempête und durch Moumnehs Arbeit als Jerusalem In My Heart und als Produzent/Toningenieur bei verschiedenen anderen Projekten. Eternal Life No End baut auf ihrer langjährigen Freundschaft auf, während Oberland und Moumneh auf neue Weise mit Energien und emotionalen Veränderungen umgehen, ihre Sensibilitäten verschmelzen und tiefere Resonanzen entdecken. , Wir haben Tag und Nacht zusammengearbeitet und gemeinsam klare Entscheidungen getroffen", erklärt Oberland. Dennoch übernahm er auch die Führung, um Moumnehs Stimme in diesen Kompositionen zur Geltung zu bringen - vier der sieben Titel des Albums enthalten Gesang. Das Duo tauschte gewissermaßen die Rollen und wagte sich an neue kreative Prozesse, wobei Moumneh offen Anweisungen von Oberland annahm und seine übliche Rolle als Hauptproduzent von Jerusalem In My Heart beiseite ließ. ,Squeal of Swine" und ,Dagger Eyes" eröffnen das Album mit einem doppelten Schlag in die Magengrube, während Handpercussion, tiefe Synth-Klänge und abprallende Buzuq- und Rababa-Klänge die Bühne für Moumnehs klagenden arabischen Gesang bereiten, der ein Meer von Krankheit widerspiegelt, das derzeit den Zustand der Menschheit überschwemmt. Auf dem Instrumentalstück ,A Dream That Never Arrived" verankert ein Lo-Fi-Beat mit Dancehall-Einflüssen überirdische Melodielinien vor dem Hintergrund eines elektroakustischen Sounddesigns in räumlich-zeitlicher Verschiebung. Eternal Life No End wird von einem audiovisuellen Essay zum elektronischen (und vokalen) Song ,The Serpent" begleitet, der von Oberland zusammengestellt und mit einer Super-8-Kamera in Montréal, Paris und Beirut gedreht wurde, einschließlich Aufnahmen von Gaza-Protesten in Paris und von Oberlands Auftritt beim 25-jährigen Jubiläum des Irtijal Festivals in Beirut. Die libanesische Grafikdesignerin, Druckgrafikerin und Kalligraphin Farah Fayyad steuert ein talismanartiges Kunstwerk mit ineinander verschlungenen Schlangen bei, das ebenfalls von diesem zentralen Albumtrack inspiriert ist.

Als Justin Morris 2019 nach einem Leben in North Carolina nach New York City zog, hatte er vor, das Gegenteil von dem zu machen, wofür die Leute normalerweise in die Stadt ziehen: seinen Traum aufzugeben. Seit seiner Kindheit war dieser Traum einfach: Songs schreiben, in Bands spielen, im ,Indie-Rock" leben. Aber als er für einen der größten Indie-Stars der Zeit Merchandise verkaufte, geriet diese Überzeugung ins Wanken. Von seinem Platz im Bus aus betrachtet, schien der Alltag auf Tournee nicht zu den faszinierenden Shows zu passen; Zugaben wichen einer Arbeitsrealität, die ihm die berufliche Seite von etwas zeigte, das er immer nur romantisiert hatte, und ihn fragen ließ, wo der Glanz geblieben war. Für seine naive Weltanschauung war die Kluft zwischen der Fantasie, ,es zu schaffen", und der Realität erschütternd. Wenn das ,der Traum" war, dachte er, musste er vielleicht überdacht werden. New York sollte ein Neuanfang sein, vielleicht sogar der Ort, an dem er einen anderen Beruf erlernen und die Musik hinter sich lassen würde. Doch weniger als einen Tag nach seinem Einzug in die Untermiete in Bushwick trat ein Mann mit einer Waffe seine Schlafzimmertür ein, zwang ihn auf den Boden und fesselte seine Hände mit Fernsehkabeln. In den Tagen nach dem Raubüberfall, in denen er nur noch durch Songs einen Sinn in den Dingen erkennen konnte, begann er wieder zu schreiben. Diese Songs wurden zum Beginn eines neuen Projekts, das er Sluice nannte. Sluice ist jetzt eine vierköpfige Band aus Durham, North Carolina - mit Morris an der Gitarre und am Gesang, Oliver Child-Lanning am Bass und verschiedenen Instrumenten, Avery Sullivan am Schlagzeug und Libby Rodenbough an der Geige - mit Companion, ihrem dritten Album und Debüt bei Mtn Laurel Recording Co. Es folgt auf Radial Gate aus dem Jahr 2023, das still geliebte Album, das Morris aufgenommen hatte, nachdem er aus New York geflohen war und sich mit dem damals noch unbekannten Child-Lanning in einem Haus in Hillsborough niedergelassen hatte, das er über Craigslist gefunden hatte. Dort nahm er Songs im Sylvan Essos Studio Bettys auf, während er als Zimmermann arbeitete. ,Companion" ist ein Album über das Dating, über das Verlieben zu den weitläufigen Refrains von Kenny Chesney und Alan Jackson. Der ,Begleiter" ändert seine Form: Manchmal hat er einen Namen (Sara, Bluey, Of Doe Eyes), manchmal ist er ein Hund, der morgens aus der Tür schlüpft, manchmal ist es Morris selbst, der sein Spiegelbild im Badezimmerspiegel sieht und murmelt: ,Junge, ich liebe dich." Manchmal sind es die Tischler, die Stadtbewohner, die Bandkollegen, die alten Tourkollegen, die wieder in sein Leben treten. In seinem sachlichen, ironiefreien lyrischen Stil, den Pitchfork einmal als ,eine Umerziehung in Aufrichtigkeit" beschrieb, wirken diese Menschen real, weil sie es sind. Und immer in greifbarer Nähe ist die Musik selbst, die Begleiterin, die fast verloren gegangen wäre.

Scopeotaku’s latest is a continuation of themes he explored in System Failure. Mutating into darker dimensions, influenced by recent world events. reality error is steeped in strangled synths, tape hiss and distorted echoes. Featuring crushed low-tech rhythms and recordings inspired by science fiction B-movies. Scopeotaku seizes the means of production with full on DiY approach. Setting out to soundtrack a dystopian society that has lost touch with the soul of humanity. A world where corporate greed and disruptive extremist views amplified by echo chambers soaked in misinformation drown the voices of reason and compassion. Within this murky swamp however lies a glimmer of light and hope for us all to not accept the future but to shape it.

50 DiY tapes with download code included.

Recorded in Glasgow

For here lies one of the most influential bands in the realm of gothic metal, a group with doom and death metal roots that has flourished for over three decades, boasting thirteen albums that have garnered devoted acclaim. This injustice is now being set right by The Circle Music , beginning with the vinyl release of the classic album "Burning: A Wish", which emerged twenty-four years ago. "Burning: A Wish", released in the twilight of the year 2001, stands as a dark reliquary of dreams lost to the velvet fog of melancholy. To revisit it now, two dozen years later, is to unseal a time capsule of gothic ache, doom- laced longing, and the tormented tenderness that only Lacrimas Profundere could conjure at their creative height. It was a candle-lit corridor between worlds. A slow fall into velvet shadows. A scream muffled by rain.

By the time "Burning: A Wish" was released, Lacrimas Profundere had already begun to evolve from their early death- doom origins, shaping their identity with the sophistication of seasoned mourners. The death growls had receded, replaced by the haunted, baritone croon of Christopher Schmid, whose voice is an echo from a chapel ruined by time. Yet, while the growls faded, the emotional gravitas remained intact, transmuted into melody, into baroque gloom, into something more sorrowfully refined. Produced with lush, theatrical clarity, the album never drowns in its own atmosphere, it breathes with it, moves with it. The soundscape is dominated by somber guitar textures, languid tempos, and subtle orchestral touches. From the very first notes, it is clear that this is music for ruined lovers and moon-drenched graveyards.

This is the hallmark of Lacrimas Profundere 's style: an emotional minimalism that does not explain or elaborate, but merely opens wounds and lets them breathe. That this album has remained, until now, absent from the warm embrace of vinyl is both tragic and oddly poetic. For what format better suits a record such as this than the one that cracks and hisses like an old seance? Vinyl is tactile, intimate. It requires attention, reverence. To place Burning: A Wish on a turntable is to light a candle in the dark.

Very limited numbers, orders will need to be confirmed.

For his new album, Irreparable Parables, Andrew Wasylyk felt a strong desire to write a set of songs featuring an element hitherto rare in his work: the human voice. Equally strong was the conviction that he did not want to sing them himself.

The Scottish multi-instrumentalist and composer set about assembling a group of guest singers, sending out the songs to wherever they were in the world. The vocals were recorded remotely and then, like migrating birds, winged their way back to Scotland. The result is an album of great beauty which, perhaps preeminently in Wasylyk’s work, expresses the vulnerability and resilience of the human spirit.

Six singers appear on the record, represented by six songbirds illustrated on the sleeve by Clay Pipe Music’s Frances Castle. The cuckoo is a nod to Belle and Sebastian’s 2004 single ‘I’m A Cuckoo’, that band’s Stuart Murdoch being the first voice you hear on the new album. When the vocal for ‘Private Symphony #2’ arrived, says Wasylyk, “it was everything that I was looking for and more. But this is Stuart Murdoch. Of course he’s going to make something incredibly beautiful and thoughtful.”

The song lyrics were, for the most part, written by the singers. The music is Wasylyk’s creation. He navigates a sound world that lies somewhere beyond the borders of classical and jazz, ambient and abstract. It is difficult to describe, but easy to understand, which is to say to feel. That is the way Wasylyk’s work is experienced: as a feeling. It takes you back to childhood, perhaps, to feelings of comfort and safety, or to memories of walks at sunrise and sunset, or to the way a shadow falls on a particular field in a particular place at a particular time in your life. This is consoling music. That is why, though pretty, it is not merely pretty. These are songs to shore up the soul.

Wasylyk writes in a room, in his native Dundee, full of “half broken” instruments. He picks these up, plays a little, seeking an idea, a feeling, a door that lies ajar. The musical palette of Irreparable Parables includes brass and woodwind, a six-piece string section, guitar, bass, drums, vibraphone, Mellotron, Fender Rhodes, tape loops, synthesisers and percussion. The strings were arranged by the cellist Pete Harvey, a long-term collaborator.

Among the other guest vocalists are Gruff Rhys of the Super Furry Animals, Saya Ueno from Japan’s Tenniscoats and Peter Brewis from Field Music. Wasylyk himself takes the lead vocal on the title track, though a throat infection and touch of pitch-shifting have altered his singing in a way that even he, having fallen out of love with his own voice, finds acceptable.

The heart of the record can, arguably, be found in two tracks, ‘Love Is A Life That Lasts Forever’ and ‘Spectators In The Absence of God’, sung respectively by Molly Linen and Kathryn Joseph. The former, bright with trumpets, was inspired by the writing of Derek Jarman. “I was feeling deeply upset about the world and wanted to try and write some- thing that was obviously hopeful,” Wasylyk says.

‘Spectators …’ offers an emotional counterpoint. It is an “apocalyptic hymn” that seems to grapple with watching human suffering from afar, too distant to be at physical risk, but experiencing the psychological wounding, and feelings of helplessness, even complicity, that come with constant awareness of other people’s pain. “Kathryn’s a pal, I love her dearly, and she’s a brilliant artist who really feels what she writes,” Wasylyk says. “The cracked tenderness of her voice is spellbinding.”

The album closes with an instrumental piece, ‘Soul Enters The Ocean Sun Climbs Out Of The Sea’, all piano and strings, that offers a sense of resolution and ascension. A good moment, too, for Wasylyk to reflect upon the artistic companionship that he enjoyed while making this record – the songbirds that answered his call: “These humans are incredible at what they do. I’m deeply grateful and feel so lucky. It blows my mind.”

Explosive Ukrainian metalcore force SPACE OF VARIATIONS returns with Poisoned Art, out on February 13, 2026 via Napalm Records. Blending furious brutality with heartfelt emotion, the four-piece band sheds their skin and continues to push the boundaries of modern metal, their new record showing a new facet of their ever-evolving sound—a new era. Twice crowned Ukraine’s best metal band, and former tour partners of genre giants Jinjer, SPACE OF VARIATIONS are raising the bar for metalcore with the twelve new tracks of Poisoned Art. Mercilessly honest, the opening track “TRIBE” sees the band battle existential fears in both English and their native Ukrainian. Driving in the urgency are diverse stylings, ranging from djent in “HALO” to fitting sirens in “MAYDAY”, showing that SPACE OF VARIATIONS doesn’t shy away from adding a certain edge to their catchy choruses. “PARALLEL REALITIES” cleverly combines soft melodies with brutality, staging captivating desperation and neck-snapping breakdowns as parallel realities. Explosive outburst “DOPPELGÄNGER” powerfully blends groovy distorted guitars and unrelenting intensity, contrasted by haunting melodic passages and subtle electronic textures, making this song especially hard-hitting. The mix of pummeling ferocity with emotional depth continues throughout “GODLIKE” and “GHOST TOWN”, before “COLDHEAVEN” stands out from Poisoned Art through its exploration of hip hop elements and cold industrial grain. “BACK TO DIRT” continues the djent vibe, while “SNAKE SKIN” delves into electronic territory.

Die Wurzeln von Cyclone aus Belgien, einer der populärsten Vertreter des europäischen Thrash Metal, gehen zurück bis 1981. In diesem Jahr wurde die Band in Aalst ursprünglich unter dem Namen Centurion aus der Taufe gehoben. Als ihre Musik immer härter wurde, entschloss man sich zur Umbenennung in Cyclone. Nach einer Serie von Demos unterschrieb man schließlich bei Roadrunner Records, wo 1986 das heute legendäre Debüt-Album »Brutal Destruction« erschien. 1990 folgte »Inferior To None« auf Justice Records, ehe man sich drei Jahre später auflöste. 2018 standen Cyclone von den Toten auf und waren seitdem live außerordentlich aktiv (mit eigenen Shows sowie bei prestigeträchtigen Festivals wie dem Headbangers Open Air). Die aktuelle Besetzung der Band besteht aus: Maxime Deschamps (Leadgitarre), Jesse Van Den Bossche (Rhythmusgitarre), Vincent Heyman (Bass), Gabriel Deschamps (Schlagzeug) und Guido Gevels (Gesang). Gevels sieht das neue Werk »Known Unto God« als die perfekte Kombination von »Brutal Destruction« und »Inferior To None« an: „Allerdings haben wir streng darauf geachtet, uns nicht selbst zu kopieren. Es gab kein Recycling. Entschieden haben wir uns für kürzere Songs, als es die meisten auf »Inferior To None« waren. Überflüssige Riffs wurden gestrichen. Wir wollten unseren old-school Sound einfangen, aber mit einem neuen Touch, ohne dabei an Eingängigkeit zu verlieren. Mein Lieblingssong auf der Platte nennt sich ‘Nothing Is Real‘. Er beleuchtet eine etwas ungewöhnlichere Seite von Cyclone. Hier zeigt sich deutlich die Inspiration der NWOBHM und des US Metal der frühen achtziger Jahre. NWOBHM-Bands wie Satan, Holocaust, Angel Witch, Sweet Savage, Diamond Head und Venom sind seit jeher ein großer Einfluss auf unsere Spielweise.“

For over six decades, Charlemagne Palestine (b. 1947, New York) has been a pioneering composer, performer, and multimedia artist, celebrated for his ecstatic sonic explorations and ritualistic, metaphysical performances. Emerging from the cross-disciplinary New York art scene of the 1960s and ’70s, he helped shape a heretical edge of minimalism alongside figures like Conrad, Riley, Niblock, and Glass. Trained as a Jewish cantor and later as the carillonneur at St. Thomas Church, Palestine cultivated a deep fascination with resonance and overtone—an obsession that evolved through his use of percussion, early synthesizers, and monumental piano works, influencing artists from John Cale to Nick Cave.

Animated by a spirit of ecstatic play and what he calls his »meschugge« (Yiddish for »crazy«) sensibility, Palestine’s universe blends the sacred and the absurd, filled with soft toys, ritual gestures, and immersive sound environments. Rejecting the »minimalist« label in favor of a maximalist, »spontanimalist« approach, he creates long-form, resonant performances that transform spaces into vibrating, living organisms—opening portals into the nature of time, sound, and devotion.

In the same vein, the aptly titled live record »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« – performed during the Sonic Acts Festival at Amsterdam’s Oude Kerk in 2025, and taking its title and cover art from a drawing realized by Palestine himself during the concert – adds to his opaque yet vibrant personal mythology and intimate transcendence, marking a return to the Staalplaat catalog after »Fffroggssichorddd« (2020) and »Music for Big Ears« (2001).

Beginning with a resonating bell and his falsetto overtone singing, then surrendering to the endless, wild soundscapes of tone-feeling and beat frequencies generated by the church’s organ, across 40+ minutes, single sound sources evolve into clusters, entangle fully with one another, and establish their own spatial existence and aural architectures. We witness the traces of something that can be described as a perpetual performance, a test for the ever-changing interaction between artist, instrument, space and, ultimately, us.

Since Palestine has always defined his execution as a form of anti-composition - of simply »being in the music« as if inhabiting a space - the true power of »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« lies in encapsulating a moment of Palestine’s practice in its most authentic, live dimension. Sound becomes at once subtle substance and strange telluric force, animating physical forms from some unknown channel beyond and within, accessible only through our sensorium. The point in this liminal temple of tone, timbre and frequency is not to learn anything but to simply enter. Palestine earns once again his self-given title of contemporary shaman by keeping this sonic portal open, allowing us to witness and make it last.

»I have always felt and heard and mixed the sounds in my world as liquids not as solids. Sonic liquids are material that is endlessly transformable. But I’m not crazy about people who go around defining stuff.«

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

CLIQUE exists not as a traditional band but as a forum for radical discourse within hardcore's landscape. Formed in 2022 in California with members spanning the Bay Area and Los Angeles, CLIQUE has quickly made a name for itself through an undeniably vicious live show and a depth that's been long missing from the scene. In a world increasingly defined by individual recognition, CLIQUE operates anonymously, rejecting the spotlight in favor of their message and finding strength in collective struggle.

Unlike many of their contemporaries, CLIQUE was formed with explicit political intent. In an era where hardcore’s content has drifted toward toothless posturing, they aim to reintroduce radical thought into a scene that has lost much of its subversive edge. Drawing from influences spanning Crass to Neurosis, Earth Crisis to MBV, they forge a sound that defies easy categorization while undoubtedly belonging to hardcore.

CLIQUE isn't interested in raising awareness for impotent establishment causes or upholding the system. Their vision extends beyond reform to revolution - the dismantling of structures that exploit people, degrade cultures and destroy the earth. Each show is an invitation for people of all walks of life to participate, a reminder that hardcore’s true strength lies in the connection of everybody in the room, erasing the boundary between stage and crowd.

As they put it: "This is a prayer for those we've lost along the way. This is a celebration of our liberation to come. This is a eulogy for the state and its worthless existence." In an increasingly commercialized hardcore landscape, CLIQUE stands apart - anonymous, uncompromising, and unwavering in their conviction that another world is possible. The message is clear: no one is coming to save us, we can only make our own future, together. This music is both a reflection of our hellish reality and an invitation to imagine and create something better. Clique up. Say nothing.

Lukah’s unprecedented trajectory shatters new heights with A Lost Language Found, his most thoughtful, sonically-diverse record yet. With the multiplatinum OG Statik Selektah on production duties, Lukah’s by now iconic, razor-sharp pen-game goes toe-to-toe with some of the best. Trading verses with Houston innovator Bun B, Memphis legend 8 Ball, and the larger than life Killer Mike, all parties involved operate at the peak of their skill. The first of what will be multiple collaborations with heavyweight hip-hop producers, this new LP establishes what we already knew in our hearts: Lukah is here to take over.

The stage set to deliver this latest opus is intensely personal: in the heart of his community, Lukah holds court with his trusted fellows at his great grandmother’s house in French Fort, Memphis, a historically black neighborhood long rec-ognized as a stately, proud vision of Black suburbia in a city still healing from deep racial trauma. Recently laid to rest in Elmwood Cemetery, the pain and strength of mourning her influence is present in the deep lyrics of A Lost Lan-guage Found, where Lukah traces not just his own legacy, but that of the linguistically rich and diverse dialects of his people. The cover image depicts the game room of the house, a place that once hosted civil rights leaders and revolu-tionaries, now a monument both to a history of leadership and to its future. For the first time, Lukah himself appears on the album art to mark this significant occasion, flanked by his partners, the symbolic source of knowledge in his hand. Listening to Lukah spit has always been a privilege and a revelation. His artistic power lies in uncovering secrets thru torrents of lucid, poetic rhymes. The listener is invited to share in this bountiful feast. Witness the real god expansion.

The album is available as a limited edition vinyl release of 500 copies in gatefold jacket.

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.

This is the story of an artist in search of sound and breath: an artist who dares to question the rhythm of silence—an invitation to rethink music, sound, and musical collaboration. This is the story of a journey that, after opening countless paths, has finally found its vessel—and its messengers. Three artists of profound musical truth and radical freedom, merging into an exceptional trio that crosses genres and transcends words in a journey toward pure emotion.

Le Rythme du Silence is the culmination of this long search. Yom delivers it here with violinist Théo Ceccaldi and cellist Valentin Ceccaldi—kindred spirits in sound. “I’ve been working on this idea of the ‘rhythm of silence’ for years,” Yom explains. “I first heard the phrase from a Sufi master, describing the foundation of meditation. It struck something deep in me. I’ve practiced meditation for a long time, and we often think of it as a kind of stillness—opposed to noise and life. But in truth, the rhythm of silence enables meditation. It means accepting that the world continues to move and live around you, even as you try to be still. I wanted to compose from that place. To imagine sound as vibratory matter—the primal substance of creation. That required letting go of fixed structures: forgetting melodies, abandoning the idea of a constructed solo. I needed to leave behind music as a system, and touch sound as a living, breathing entity. It took years. Many projects led me elsewhere. But with the Ceccaldi brothers, I finally found the right resonance. Working with them was simply obvious—it was indredibly powerful.”

Yom first rose to prominence reimagining Jewish traditional music with his 2008 debut New King of Klezmer Clarinet. Since then, his path has led through rock (With Love, 2011; You Will Never Die, 2018), electronic utopias (The Empire of Love, 2013), meditative and sacred soundscapes (Prière, 2018), and countless unclassifiable hybrids (Unue, 2009; Green Apocalypse, 2010). It was inevitable that he would eventually cross paths with the free-spirited Théo and Valentin Ceccaldi—two artists who also place collaboration and genre-blurring at the heart of their artistic development. Their projects are always bold, demanding, and full of life (Kutu, Tricollectif, ONJ, Velvet Revolution, Grand Orchestre du Tricot, Lagon Noir, Constantine, etc.). And so, when the three met within the iXi string quartet, something clicked.
“I was seated between the two of them in the quartet,” Yom recalls, “and I could feel their energy flowing from both sides—it was wild! They’re so tuned into each other, they don’t need words. It’s like they’re connected by musical Wi-Fi. The groove happens instantly. They’re precise when they want to be—thanks to their experience in pop-influenced projects —but they can also let go completely, diving into pure sound. That’s exactly what this project needed.”

Without a single rehearsal, the trio formed instinctively. They began performing Yom’s compositions live, unfolding them into a single continuous piece, where clarinet and strings stretch the limits of sound and breath.
Bowed, plucked, or prepared with clothespins, the Ceccaldi strings engage in a playful and intense dialogue with Yom’s custom B-flat clarinet. Through their imaginative listening and fearless invention, air and space open into a vast new soundscape—one that lies somewhere between meditation and healing music.

“When Yom shared the concept of the rhythm of silence, we were immediately drawn in,” says cellist Valentin Ceccaldi. “There’s a deep intensity and spiritual commitment in his music that really spoke to me. With this trio, we’re trying to dive into the core of sound—but also to create a kind of communion with the audience. It’s like gradually turning up the volume on silence, and realizing it’s made of countless tiny sounds—the music of particles in motion" This stripped-down intensity demands full presence—body and mind—of these three musicians, vibrationally connected in a state close to trance. With them, we enter a journey - not religious, but sacred nonetheless.
The Rhythm of Silence becomes an echo of our most intimate, most distant inner landscapes.
An album—and a trio—to return to without end.

Celebrated DJ, producer, and sonic explorer Auntie Flo (aka Brian d’Souza) — described by The Guardian as “one of global club culture’s most vital voices” — returns this autumn with ‘Birds of Paradise’: a rhythmically rich, emotionally resonant, and ecologically grounded new album, out 23 October via his A State of Flo imprint. The album will be launched with a special live show at London’s Jazz Caféon the same day.

‘Birds of Paradise’ draws on d’Souza’s global club experience while deepening his connection with the natural world. Built around classic Roland drum machines and iconic vintage synths, the record is a joyful, body-driven celebration of rhythm and movement, but one grounded in ecology and place. The album’s spiritual centre lies in Saligao, Goa, near d’Souza’s maternal homeland where his Auntie Florie (where the name is derived from) is buried. Where he found his ‘paradise’ nearby, staying in a converted fisherman’s hut and recorded dawn choruses from a riverside studio overlooking mangrove-lined waters. Environmental textures from Japan also make their way into the music, creating a sonic map rooted in lived experience.

“Birds of Paradise is about finding beauty and rhythm in a chaotic world. It’s about listening, to nature, to our bodies, to what’s real. It’s a reminder that dance music can be both joyful and grounded.” The album blends Afro-Latin polyrhythms with Western 4/4 patterns, fusing instinctive, dancefloor energy with field recordings that anchor the music in the earth. Described by d’Souza as “tropical with a few deeper edges, a balance of light and dark.”

The new record follows the acclaimed ‘In My Dreams, I’m A Bird and I’m Free’, which earned 4 stars and Global Album of the Month from The Guardian, featured in Disco Pogo’s Albums of the Year, and received support from Luke Una, Resident Advisor, Juno, Bandcamp, Mixmag, DJ Mag, Electronic Sound, The Skinny, Beatport, Ban Ban Ton Ton, and more. The album’s launch show at Omeara London sold out. Other recent projects include the ‘Outernational Dance’ EP on cult label Multi Culti, event series ‘Plants Can Dance (and Mushroom’s Sing)’ which explore plant and fungi bioelectricity as a means of live composition, and ‘Black Beacon’, a haunting cassette release and soundwalk series recorded on the abandoned military island of Orford Ness. There, d’Souza explored the eerie intersection of nature, decay, and deep time, gaining special access to restricted buildings to capture long-form soundscape compositions.

Alongside his production work, d’Souza has emerged as a leading voice at the intersection of sound and science. He curated music for Imperial College’s groundbreaking psychedelic therapy trials, developing six-phase playlists to guide participants through psilocybin-assisted sessions treating conditions such as fibromyalgia and gambling addiction. His five-hour ambient set at Watching Trees Festival, selected as Resident Advisor’s Mix of the Day, continued this exploration into the therapeutic potential of sound in altered states. He also spent six months collaborating with BBC producer Tom Raine on a documentary for BBC World Service, centred on a two-week journey through Kenya and Goa. There, he performed live, led plant music workshops, and joined a deep listening retreat rooted in field recording. “I realised my studio isn’t just four soundproofed walls filled with instruments — it’s the journey itself. It’s the people I meet, the natural world I listen to, and the connections I feel.”

This same commitment to deep listening fuels his live concept Plants Can Dance, a project that combines the biosonification of plants and fungi with modular synthesis. The next event, on 14 September at Hideout Hackney Wick, will feature performances by Stella Z and Lapalace, with d’Souza and resident Lamine playing live alongside responsive plants in collaboration with Repot Hackney Wick and the label Music To Watch Seeds Grow By. “I’ve spent years exploring how electronic music can connect us, not just to each other, but to the natural world. Whether it’s translating mushroom data into melody or capturing birdsong at dawn, it’s about finding resonance across bodies, ecosystems, and machines.”

Rooted in his Goan and Kenyan heritage and shaped by years of travel and collaboration, d’Souza’s creative mission is simple: to reconnect the electronic world with the natural one. Through A State of Flo, he continues to blur the boundaries between club culture, sound art, and ecological awareness.

Unknown Waveforms is the forthcoming album from Belgian trio KAU, set for release on October 10, 2025. Marking an evolution since their 2023 release The Cycle Repeats, this new record captures a more personal, immediate, and unfiltered version of the band's sound. In an increasingly digital world, KAU takes a different route, with an album rooted in human connection, live energy, and creative spontaneity. Here, the trio reflect their take on instrumental music, drawing heavily fromjazz, hip hop, and electronic influences.

At the heart of Unknown Waveforms lies the starting point of three musicians in a room, writing and composing music on the spot. For KAU, this idea mirrors their working method: long jam sessions, free-flowing experimentation, and shared moments of inspiration. Songs often take shape slowly, unfolding over hours or days, but always built collaboratively as a trio.

The album's title reflects the mystery behind how music comes together, but is also both literal and symbolic. Unknown waveforms are the sounds that arise when machines and people interact in unpredictable ways. Whether you're an experienced musician or just starting out, the creative process often feels elusive and hard to fully understand. But there are also certain moments: creative sparks that can't be planned or programmed. It ends up being more than notes, gear, or structure, it's about the process, the tension and energy that builds when people connect and create in the same room.

The title track, Unknown Waveforms, captures that exact process. It opens with a quote from synth pioneer Wendy Carlos: "I'm just trying to show you how we get some of these sounds", inviting listeners directly into the creative space. The track focuses less on a polished outcome and more on the moment before a song is "finished": it's a portrait of experimentation, feeling, and raw expression.

This commitment to honesty permeates the entire album. KAU kept overdubs to a minimum, avoided excessive editing, and prioritized spontaneous choices over calculated ones. In a time when the future of live, improvised music feels uncertain, they double down on the physical, the real, and the immediate. The album resists the pristine polish of modern production, favoring the warmth and imperfection of analog synthesis. The band embraces the character of their instruments, particularly vintage gear, where subtle flaws add beauty, depth, and personality.

One standout track, cr_eye, is driven by the Moog Subphatty-a key instrument in the band's toolkit for its analog warmth and powerful sub-bass. The track centers around the conversation between bass and drums, allowing the keyboards to recede and create space. It draws emotional threads from earlier KAU tracks like Kampala and Kautokeino, bridging past and present with a shared atmosphere and rhythmic interplay.

Another highlight, Stratford, finds inspiration in London's transport system and the UK jazz scene that has long influenced KAU. A field recording snippet of the London Underground kicks off the track, connecting it to the rhythm of everyday commutes. Built around a hypnotic sequencer line from the Roland JX-3P, the track evokes the motion of a metro journey. Artists like Nubya Garcia, Yussef Dayes, and Alfa Mist, giants of the scenethat the band has admired for years, resonate subtly throughout.

Above all, Unknown Waveforms is a statement of intent from KAU: a celebration of imperfection, creative honesty and an insight in the process.

Als Crushed machen die Musiker Bre Morell und Shaun Durkan maximalistische Dream-Pop-Musik für sich selbst. Sie nehmen in verschiedenen Wohnungen auf, ohne an einen bestimmten Ort gebunden zu sein (Morell aus Texas, jetzt in Los Angeles, und Durkan in Portland, Oregon), schreiben sie die Songs, die sie hören wollen, und stimmen sich dabei auf ihren gemeinsamen Geschmack (für Trip-Hop, Britpop, Electronica und den Kanon des alternativen Radios der 90er Jahre), ihr Verlangen nach Emotionalität und ihr Gespür dafür, wann es richtig und ehrlich klingt, ab; wann es für sie etwas Echtes bedeutet . Ihr Debütalbum verkörpert ihr Vertrauen zueinander und in ihr Handwerk. Ein ,No Scope"-Kill im Videospiel-Jargon wird erreicht, indem man aus nächster Nähe mit einem Scharfschützengewehr schießt, ohne das Ziel anzuvisieren - eine treffende Metapher für zwei Künstler, die ihren Pop-Impulsen folgen und aus der Hüfte schießen, aber mit Präzision. ,Es könnte auch bedeuten, keine Zukunft zu haben", scherzt Morell, ,vom Leben ohne Zielfernrohr getroffen zu werden." Die Realität des Scheiterns schwebt über den meisten kreativen Unternehmungen, vielleicht umso ausgeprägter, je weiter man in seinem Fachgebiet voranschreitet. Mehrere musikalische Leben und nächtliche Übertragungen haben Morell und Durkan zu diesem Projekt geführt. Und auf dem triumphalen ,no scope" nehmen sie die besten Schläge des Lebens mit ihrem stärksten Werk auf und setzen melodische, offenherzige Hooks in einem Labyrinth aus Breakbeats und gespleißtem Sounddesign mit beispielloser Unmittelbarkeit und Klarheit ein. Die nächste Stufe ist erreicht. no scope folgt auf ,extra life", die EP aus dem Jahr 2023, die eine Welle der Unterstützung auslöste und frühe Fans bei Pitchfork (,müheloser, großformatiger Dream Pop, der ruhig ist, ohne sentimental zu sein"), NPR (,...eine Gruppe, deren Musik, obwohl sie nur eine EP veröffentlicht hat, ein tiefes Gefühl für Ort und Zeit vermittelt") und Ghostly International, die die Band unter Vertrag nahmen und ,extra life" 2024 in einer erweiterten physischen Version zusammen mit Remixen der Bandfavoriten Real Lies und DJ Python veröffentlichten.

Still staged in the gritty atmosphere and philosophical weight of post-metal, sludge, and ambient noise, `idsungwüssä' sees Abraham march even further into dissonant and defiant territory. "The three albums are clearly linked together thematically" comments the band, "although, rather than an additional chapter, idsungwüssä is more like a parallel narrative to 'Débris de mondes perdus'. The latter was a jump in time after 'Look, Here Comes the Dark!, whereas 'idsungwüssä' is a jump in space, a journey away from earth. It should be the final piece of this little jolly ride." This album isn't just heavy, it is absolutely drenched in delicious filth, and yet by embracing even more the melodic interludes and melancholic passages, they create a devastating contrast to the wall of power coming from stacked guitars, catastrophic drums and raging, sharp vocals - delivered in Swiss-German dialect. From the patient grandeur of coming extinction, to the chaos and fevered urgency of the aftermath, in `idsungwüssä' Abraham move forward from prophetic lamentation to an elegiac visceral response. The emotional closure of this expression is felt, something final that will leave you speechless and with only one real option; listen to it again.

Still staged in the gritty atmosphere and philosophical weight of post-metal, sludge, and ambient noise, `idsungwüssä' sees Abraham march even further into dissonant and defiant territory. "The three albums are clearly linked together thematically" comments the band, "although, rather than an additional chapter, idsungwüssä is more like a parallel narrative to 'Débris de mondes perdus'. The latter was a jump in time after 'Look, Here Comes the Dark!, whereas 'idsungwüssä' is a jump in space, a journey away from earth. It should be the final piece of this little jolly ride." This album isn't just heavy, it is absolutely drenched in delicious filth, and yet by embracing even more the melodic interludes and melancholic passages, they create a devastating contrast to the wall of power coming from stacked guitars, catastrophic drums and raging, sharp vocals - delivered in Swiss-German dialect. From the patient grandeur of coming extinction, to the chaos and fevered urgency of the aftermath, in `idsungwüssä' Abraham move forward from prophetic lamentation to an elegiac visceral response. The emotional closure of this expression is felt, something final that will leave you speechless and with only one real option; listen to it again.

To All That We Lose And All We Fight For is the debut album by Vera Logdanidi - the
culmination of nearly two decades of musical evolution. Her journey began in the world of drum & bass and jungle, gradually expanding into deep explorations of house, dub techno, and techno. Over the years, Vera has performed on leading stages across Ukraine and internationally, while also mentoring a new generation of DJs and producers, hosting radio shows, and supporting the scene through her label and community work.

This album was written during a time of deep upheaval. The outbreak of full-scale war forced Vera to leave behind a well-established life and begin again on the international stage. While the music often feels dreamy and introspective, To All That We Lose And All We Fight For is a profoundly personal record - a sonic refuge shaped by grief, uncertainty, and resilience.

The album doesn't follow formulas; it's driven by intuition, texture, and a genuine connection to sound. It's rich, emotional, and occasionally unexpected. The tracks form the core of Vera's current live set, which has resonated at major festivals such as Draaimolen or Strichka - captivating audiences with its depth and subtle, immersive energy.

The cover art, created in close collaboration with Vera's longtime visual team, is a real
photograph - not a digital effect. It captures the tension between anxiety and hope: a glance back, and a step forward into the unknown. This visual metaphor reflects the emotional landscape of the album - the fragility of what's been lost, and the courage to embrace what lies ahead.

This release also marks a new chapter for Rhythm Buro Records - one that moves towards music that is more personal, intimate, and unconstrained by expectations.

To All That We Lose And All We Fight For is released alongside another important Rhythm Buro release: RB011 - Your Curves EP by Na Nich. Ukrainian producer Oleksandr Pavlenko, formerly known as Sunchase, returns to his roots in broken beats and bass music, blending them with house and techno sensibilities. The four-track EP ranges from deep grooves to melancholic late-night moods - a compelling counterpoint to Vera's album and a testament to the label's evolving identity.
Order RB012 n

Its no secret that Samiyam is a certified beathead and appreciated hiphop producer - we have been in touch with him since his self released Rap beats volume 1 CD (or actually since his contribution with FlyLo as Flyamsam on the Beat Dimensions compilation), and later took in further releases on Stones Throw, Brainfeeder, Poo-Bah, All City & Hyperdub . What we did not know is Sam got heavily into Death Metal for the past 5 years and is a big horror movie fan. (check the artwork here !)


On Death Metal, Sam mentioned 'I started revisiting some old shit and realized I really love it and there's so many cool bands I didn't even know about.. I started making some shit with drums, drum programming, and ideas inspired by some of the stuff I like and realized I should just make an album out of it."

So here it is - 13 beat takes, Metal style - put together by a man whose output is sparse but never dissapoints !

Limited edition US import

Brazilian Psychedelic Rock Artist Firefriend via Cardinal Fuzz and Little Cloud Records announce a first time vinyl pressing for the classic - “999 to 666 ts Street” Prepare to take the long way through the void — Brazilian sonic architects Firefriend present the searing “999 to 666 TS Street”, a full-length LP that bends time, bleeds color, and dives deeper into the cracked corridors of psychedelic rock. With roots tangled deep in the underground of São Paulo and their eyes forever fixed on the cosmic unknown, Firefriend has carved out a space uniquely their own — a distorted dreamscape where shoegaze meets fuzz, noise folds into melody, and every track is a doorway. “999 to 666 TS Street” is a concept record that navigates a haunted psychogeography: an address etched between realities, where spiritual unrest collides with dystopian daydreams.

A Journey Through Sound and Shadow Drenched in fuzzed-out guitars, whispered vocals, analog synths, and pulsing rhythms, this LP sees the trio — Yury Hermuche (guitar/vocals), Julia Grassetti (bass/vocals), and Cacau Bandeira (drums) — begin to forge the fearless vision they seek. From the opening surge to the final fractured lullaby, “999 to 666 TS Street” is both a destination and a transmission: a call to the wanderers, the outsiders, and the seekers. But Firefriend's mission isn’t just sonic — it’s political.

As proudly left-wing artists with an internationalist vision, the band channels the disillusionment and resistance of a generation watching the world teeter. Their music radiates both critique and hope, connecting the dystopia of late capitalism with a dream of liberation. Whether playing São Paulo basements or European festivals, Firefriend brings an urgent message beneath the haze: solidarity is louder than silence. "This album is a street you can't find on any map — it's the place your mind goes when you turn the lights off," says frontman Yury Hermuche. "It's noise, beauty, and a little bit of danger." "We wanted to build a record that feels like a fever dream on vinyl," adds bassist Julia Grassetti. "Something physical, something that glows in the dark." About Firefriend Known for their hypnotic live shows and cult international following, Firefriend has shared stages with underground legends and graced the grooves of multiple celebrated independent releases.

They’ve become essential listening for fans of Spacemen 3, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, and The Velvet Underground — yet remain wholly, defiantly themselves. “999 to 666 TS Street” marks the start and is another milestone in their prolific catalog, pushing the limits of psychedelic rock while remaining anchored in the beautifully bleak emotionalism that defines their sound. Beneath the distortion lies a worldview — anti-authoritarian, borderless, and defiantly alive.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves.Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl's newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single "Not Hell, Not Heaven" outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. "It's about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim," explains vocalist Kat Moss. "It's trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain't working for me." The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on "Fantasy." "It's incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated," Moss says. "`Fantasy' is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard." The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, "Are We All Angels," asking questions like, "Is this all there is?" and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. "It's about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn't matter how `good' or `bad' you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do," explains Moss, noting that punctuation on "Are We All Angels" has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl's debut, 2021's How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record's sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called "Seeds to Sow," that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. "It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we're fulfilling that," says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023's widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next.Scowl's growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band's scope. "Will would say, `Everything you have here is correct, but it's in the wrong place,'" says Gilbert. Moss adds: "Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses." But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. "Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate," says guitarist Malachi Greene. "At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes."

The discovery of Doris Dennison's score represents a genuine musicological breakthrough—what once would have been "a tree falling in the woods" thirty years ago now holds the potential to render "a thunderous clap in our minds." While researching Anna Halprin's lesser-known collaborators, scholar Tom Welsh uncovered the archives of AA Leath, one of Halprin's principal dancers. Buried within these materials was Dennison's handwritten score for Earth Interval, dated May 1956. Born in Saskatchewan, Canada, in 1908, and raised near Seattle, Dennison (1908-2009) encountered John Cage while teaching Dalcroze eurythmics at the Cornish College of the Arts. She joined Cage's earliest percussion quartet—alongside Margaret Jansen, the composer and his wife Xenia—in the group widely regarded as having performed the first complete concert of percussion music in the United States. This historic December 1938 concert was followed by tours and the landmark May 1941 performance at the California Club, comprising Cage and Lou Harrison's Double Music, the premiere of Cage's Third Construction, and Harrison's 13th Simfony.

As Bradford Bailey observes in his extensive liner notes, Earth Interval demonstrates "an extraordinary balance of elements that imbues the piece with a sense of clarity, directness, and constraint that is both distinct and ahead of its time." The work's most remarkable innovation lies in its approach to extended techniques, particularly Dennison's notation for the central movement: "In 2nd movement, 1st player lowers + raises a gong into a tub of water while beating." This technique, absorbed from Cage's experimental vocabulary, generates what Bailey describes as "fields of acoustic abstraction that bend and warp time through sustained resonances, beat, and space." The temporal sophistication of these manipulations anticipated Karlheinz Stockhausen's Mikrophonie I (1964) and Annea Lockwood's water-based sound investigations by over a decade. After joining Mills College as dance accompanist, Dennison maintained crucial connections to the Bay Area's experimental scene, collaborating with figures like Merce Cunningham and programming Cage's music throughout the 1950s.

Comprising three movements—Land Form, Air Tide, and Earth Play—Earth Interval is scored for recorder, drums, gongs, maracas, muted gongs, and bowl gongs. In total, the piece is just under eight minutes: "a fleeting glimmer of moment in time, a life spent at the cutting edge, and a singular creative vision that packs a powerful punch." When viewed in historical context, placed in contrast to roughly contemporaneous avant-garde percussion works by Cage, Harrison, Louis Thomas Hardin (Moondog), and Harry Partch, or important precursors like Edgard Varèse's Ionisation (1931) and Henry Cowell's Ostinato Pianissimo (1934), it's clear that Dennison was following her own path. Earth Interval is not derivative. It is a precursor to what was yet to come, alluding to developments of avant-garde and experimental music that wouldn't begin to appear on the cultural landscape until the 1970s and '80s, with the emergence of Post-Minimalism and more idiosyncratic artists and ensembles like Midori Takada, Ros Bandt, Peter Giger, Frank Perry, Christopher Tree, Michael Ranta, Gamelan Son of Lion, and Niagara.

This recording by Chicago's Third Coast Percussion, captured in March 2022, represents the first complete documentation of this pioneering work. The ensemble's interpretation reveals the piece's remarkable contemporaneity while maintaining its historical specificity. Where Cage, Harrison, and Partch employed "self-consciously off-kilter polyrhythms," Dennison's rhythmic sensibility anticipates minimalist developments by nearly a decade, yet integrates "forceful rests, as well as sharp shifts in sonic character, tempo, and meter, that break the momentum and breathe a sense of life into the piece's structure." This positions her work closer to Post-Minimalism decades before its emergence. The architectural approach demonstrates Dennison's understanding that "the composer almost entirely disappears" in favor of phenomenological listening experience, creating what might be called an egoless music that places its realities and meaning entirely in the ear of the beholder. The present recording, realized by Chicago's distinguished Third Coast Percussion ensemble, represents a significant achievement in experimental music scholarship and performance practice. As specialists in the Cage tradition and contemporary percussion repertoire, Third Coast Percussion approached Earth Interval with the historical sensitivity and technical precision required to illuminate Dennison's subtle compositional innovations. The March 2022 recording sessions, engineered by Colin Campbell, capture both the work's intimate chamber music qualities and its bold exploration of extended techniques. The ensemble's interpretation reveals the piece's remarkable contemporaneity—its ability to speak directly to current musical concerns while maintaining its historical specificity.

This recording serves multiple scholarly functions: it provides the first complete documentation of Dennison's compositional voice, offers insight into the broader network of experimental music practitioners surrounding Cage and Harrison, and demonstrates the sophisticated level of compositional thinking that was occurring within the Bay Area's dance-music collaborations of the 1950s. The work's emphasis on phenomenological listening—what might be called an "egoless" approach to musical experience—places it within a lineage of American experimental music that prioritizes perceptual process over compositional personality. The work's original obscurity—limited to AA Leath's performances at venues like the 1957 Pacific Coast Arts Festival at Reed College—paradoxically allowed it to remain "entirely on its own terms," free from the constraints of historical categorization. Drawing on Jacques Derrida's Archive Fever, the argument emerges that "the archive can acknowledge, celebrate, and resurrect" overlooked voices, transforming our understanding of experimental music history. The present Blume edition, featuring Third Coast Percussion's authoritative interpretation, includes a lavishly illustrated 16-page booklet designed by Bruno Stucchi / dinamomilano, containing complete scholarly apparatus, historical photographs, and detailed production notes. This recording enables "cross-temporal intersectionality," allowing Dennison to "belong to a newly formed and more dynamic understanding of the present and past," demonstrating how forgotten voices can reshape entire historical narratives when given proper scholarly attention and performance advocacy.

The Kinks kündigen den dritten und letzten Teil ihrer ganz besonderen Anthologie-Reihe an: „The Journey
– Part 3“.
„Part 3“ behandelt ihre transformative RCA/Arista-Zeit von 1977 bis 1984, eine Zeit, in der die Band
endgültig in Amerika durchbrach, ihre legendären Pop- und Experimentalphasen hinter sich ließ und zu
einem frischen und prägnanten Stil des klassischen Songwritings zurückkehrte, der von ihrem eigenen,
ausgeprägten britischen Selbstverständnis zeugt.
CD 1 / LP 1 enthält Klassiker und Hits aus dieser Zeit, persönlich von der Band ausgewählt und von den
Original-Sampler- und Produktionsbändern remastert, darunter „Come Dancing“, „Destroyer“ und „Living
On A Thin Line“.
CD 2 / LP 2 enthält bisher unveröffentlichte Aufnahmen des Hit-reichen Auftritts der Band in der Royal
Albert Hall im Juli 1993, darunter fesselnde Interpretationen von „You Really Got Me“ und „Till The End
of the Day“ und vielen anderen.
Sowohl unsere 180-g-Doppel-LP als auch die Doppel-CD enthalten Track-by-Track-Kommentare der Band
sowie neue Linernotes von Phil Alexander.

Founded in 2020 by Austrian producer Lee Stevens, Rising Seed has evolved into a joint venture with Ken Hayakawa and a collective of guest musicians. Blending Acid Jazz, Trip Hop, and Disco, the project bridges the warmth of live instrumentation with the depth of electronic production.
With a strong focus on recording and re sampling real instruments, Rising Seed crafts a rich, organic sound—where vintage samplers, drum machines, and analog textures meet hypnotic grooves and cinematic atmospheres. Inspired by artists like Moby, Kruder & Dorfmeister, and Massive Attack, their debut album True Lies unfolds like a layered collage, blurring the lines between past and future, truth and illusion.
The opening track, “Follow Me,” perfectly embodies this fusion: sampled instruments and vocal snippets blend seamlessly with live recordings of flute and saxophone, all set against a funky drum break. “Gone West” does the unthinkable—marrying a house groove with esoteric vocals, live sitar by Amrith Jan, and—why not?—a touch of harmonica. “Like A Lion” is a dub-infused downbeat track packed with crusty blues samples.
On “Freedom,” we hear a more minimalist side of Rising Seed, with a tight brush-drum arrangement and densely layered sitar melodies. Another high point is “Soldier of Peace,” featuring even more funky sitar and a subtle acid line, reminiscent of the early days of big beat. It’s followed by “True Lies,” which elegantly distills the downbeat sound of the late '90s while staying true to the Rising Seed formula.
“Psych Jazz” is, as the title suggests, both psychedelic and jazzy, albeit with a somber, low-slung trip-hop feel, while “Don’t Worry” is equally trippy yet more upbeat, carried by a moaning vocal sample that urges us not to worry. Finally, “Stay with Me” closes the album with a jazz-infused vibe that is both moody and uplifting, its shuffling drum groove and elegant piano melodies providing a fitting conclusion.

“Ti Ho Sposato Per Allegria” (1967) is a comedy directed by Luciano Salce, taken from the theatrical play of the same name (1965) by Natalia Ginzburg. The main characters are Pietro and Giuliana, respectively interpreted by Giorgio Albertazzi and Monica Vitti. A lawyer from a good family, serious, accustomed to a calm and regular life who got married to a indolent and dazed girl with a difficult past a month after meeting her at a party. Despite Giuliana's inability to transform herself into a good housewife, his relationship with Pietro continues to flourish, because he seems to find enjoyment in each of his wife's many mistakes. The reason for their union lies not in love but, perhaps, in a genuine sympathy, as strong as it is mutual. The story has become a minor classic with each new representation. On both stage and screen the themes of everyday life, and the more complex and existential ones, are addressed. The subtle irony of the work relies on recounting problematic events in a carefree tone: realities such as abortion, death, separation and the couple's incommunicability are underplayed with naturalness. The funny events of the film are commented on by Piero Piccioni's music, published for the first time on vinyl by Musica Per Immagini, with an harmonious tracklist. For this first orchestra rehearsal with the director, which will be followed by other important soundtracks, the composer makes an effective and elegant synthesis: on the one hand he reworks moods and aesthetic intuitions of some previous and happy experiences, while on the other he identifies and anticipates the first bars of that unmistakable sound between bossa nova, funk and lounge nuances that will characterize almost all the production of the Seventies. In fact, the Turin-native artist simplifies in a positive sense the articulated harmonic structures that have always distinguished his authorial figure – where the so called jazz features are to be considered more than central in the musical texture, as prominent elements of the harmonic syntax – and he tries a melodic reduction that will make the compositions more catchy or memorized, but not easier for this. Lightness of spirit and rarefied elegance are the keys of this new Dionysian world.

A Colourful Storm proudly presents a remastered first-time vinyl editions of Lone Capture Library's modern-day DIY environmental masterpiece, All Natures Most Mundane Materials. "Environmental"? While this certainly wasn't recorded for dinner party ambience nor was it commissioned by Harrods, it does document a haphazard wander through the English countryside, feeling the air and the earth, detaching oneself from confinement and attempting to make sense of it all. Its protagonist is Rory Salter, London's restless improvisor extraordinaire, who has contributed to dozens of solo and collaborative releases in an ecosystem branched from his Infant Tree private press. Under his alias Malvern Brume, he is responsible for some of the most enchanting sides of contemporary concrète that's graced our ears: dérives revealing beauty and curiosity within London's urban banality. And while we'd argue that Lone Capture Library applies this approach but seeks the peculiar within the pastoral, there also lies a certain hermetic recklessness, with its disruptive details and discarded sonic bric-a-brac.

"I'd walked from Swindon to Avebury and back, which is about a 21-mile round trip. I'd been a muppet and did the whole thing down the A4361, which is not a road suitable for walking on - there was a lot of jumping into the hedges to avoid lorries. Turned out, there was a really nice walk across the fields I could have done instead. But maybe that sums it up quite well. Instinctive and very impulsive. The day following, I was at home and recorded it in single takes, improvised and straight to the tape. There was a good deal of significance for me in walking to the stones, passing the Hackpen Horse, being in the landscape and dealing with some brain rot after being stuck in a house, anxious and depressed. There was a sense of freedom and detachment. It was all about the materials of the earth and the body and fucking the brain off for a bit - just wanting to move between places. I dunno, it's all very cliché."

Man singt und es wird: Im Zuge eines Zusammenbruchs hat Max Gruber den Soloartist Drangsal gekillt und die Band Drangsal gegründet. Am Ende des Tunnels steht das im Juni 2025 erscheinende Album, Aus keiner meiner Brücken die in Asche liegen ist je ein Phönix emporgestiegen.

 Seit über zehn Jahren sichelt Max Gruber mittlerweile die Zick-Zack-Schneise Drangsal durch die deutsche Poplandschaft: Harieschaim aus 2016, Zores aus 2018 und zuletzt Exit Strategy – das ihm 2021 Platz 6 der Albumcharts bescherte – erdachte Gruber größtenteils im Alleingang. Und dann war da noch etwas nach seiner Exit Strategy: Ein Zusammenbruch. Max Gruber wusste nicht mehr, ob und wenn ja, wie er weiter Drangsal machen will, veröffentlichte im Ullstein-Verlag sein literarisches Debüt »Doch«, gründete Die Benjamins, holte so gemeinsam mit Charlotte Brandi, Thomas Götz und Julian Knoth Hans-A-Plast Frontfrau Annette Benjamin aus dem Ruhestand und reaktivierte unlängst das 2016 mit Stella Sommer gegründete Duo Die Mausis.

Und doch, von innen wie von außen, immer wieder die Frage nach einem neuen Drangsal-Album. Wenn es denn überhaupt nochmal eines geben soll, erkannte Gruber, musste er die Arbeitsweise, auf deren Grundlage Drangsal-Songs entstehen, fundamental verändern. Auf alles Ringen folgte, was unvermeidbar war: Der Reset. Max Gruber hat den Soloartist Drangsal gekillt und die dreiköpfige Band Drangsal gegründet – zusammen mit zwei Mitmusikern, die ihn aus seinen Gewohnheiten gelöst haben: Lukas Korn und Marvin Holley.
Erstgenannter ist Gitarrist und Produzent, spielt in der Band Lyschko, produzierte zuletzt das Album silber von Mia Morgan und hat seit 2020 als Bassist an der Drangsal-Liveband partizipiert. Zweiterer studierte Jazz- und klassische Gitarre sowie Komposition in Stuttgart und Wien, stand mit Sam Vance-Law und Fil Bo Riva auf der Bühne und arrangierte für Film und Theater. Lukas Korn und Marvin Holley haben dafür gesorgt, dass sich die zentrale Figur im Kosmos Drangsal dreiteilt.

Das Liedermachen in Bandkonstellation ließ alle Angst platzen: Getragen von Euphorie nahmen Gruber, Holley und Korn ab Ende 2022 etliche Songskizzen und damit den Unterbau eines siebzehnteiligen Albums auf. Nach Kreativurlauben an der polnischen Grenze und Ostsee stand eine von Max Rieger produzierte und von Lukas Korn Co-produzierte vierte Drangsal-LP. Sie trägt den schwergängigen Titel Aus keiner meiner Brücken die in Asche liegen ist je ein Phönix emporgestiegen und erscheint im Juni 2025. Gruber, Holley und Korn haben sich auf das Credo so wenig wie möglich, so viel wie nötig verständigt – und dadurch einen Umbruch im Klangkosmos Drangsals manifestiert, der völlig neue Dynamiken mit sich bringt. Aus keiner meiner Brücken die in Asche liegen ist je ein Phönix emporgestiegen hält Leerstellen aus, in seinem Zentrum stehen, statt Synthesizer, Akustikgitarren, die immer wieder an der Grenze zu Blues und Jazz wandeln. Wo speziell auf Exit Strategy noch überzuckerter Synth-Pop preschte, ist nun Klavier zu hören; Orgel, Klavinet und Cembalo; Xylophon, Violinen und Celli; von Ralph Heidel gespielte Querflöten und Saxophone.

Dazwischen drei Episoden, in denen sich Gospel Chöre und Technobeats breitmachen. Max Rieger hat die drei dazu motiviert, Echtheit, auch Imperfektion im Moment der Aufnahme zuzulassen – und großen Anteil daran, dass »Aus keiner meiner Brücken die in Asche liegen ist je ein Phönix emporgestiegen« ein realistisches Abbild des Trios bietet. Die Stimmung? Dagegen eher ein Wechselbad. Max Gruber singt von Selbstentfremdung, vom Für und Wider des Stillstands, vom Sichhingeben und Sichwegschmeißen – mal auf deutsch, mal auf englisch, mal zart, mal angewidert. Grubers Stimme klingt, nach einer klassischen Gesangsausbildung, die der Einunddreißigjährige angetreten hat, zielbewusster. Umarmungen Marke »Ich hab von der Musik geträumt und Inkomplett treffen auf Gewitterwolken à la Mein Eid und dem Sophia-Blenda-Feature Mein Mo(nu)ment. Entlang rigoroser Entkernung und Hexenjagd geht es Bergab – für dich, für mich, für Max Gruber sowieso. Er ist über weite Teile der Platte hinweg auf der Flucht vor sich selbst, den alten Geistern, dem leidigen Wachzustand: Wär’ ich doch bloß nimmermehr erwacht, ich schliefe in ewigem Glück. Gruber sucht und sucht: Nach innerem Frieden, nach Gnade, nach unverbranntem Boden, nach neuen Versionen seiner Selbst – und das vergeblich. Immerhin scheinen Erinnerungen mit der Zeit zu verschwimmen: Grubers Worte – zu sich und zur Welt – klingen im hinteren Teil der Platte sanfter, vergebender, resümierender. Ein Schlüsselmoment? Das von der Schauspielerin Rosa Lembeck eingesprochene, Monolog artig formulierte Klanggedicht Rosa – Es ist so: Man singt und es wird.

LIMITED VINYL COMES IN CARDBOARD SLEEVE WITH BOOKLET!
OSTRANENIE is a collection of digitally manipulated, impressionistic piano miniatures — each named after blockbuster films and TV series. Improvised late at night as a reaction against passive media consumption, these pieces function as both homage and critique, navigating the space between classical impressionism and contemporary digital manipulation. They don’t just deconstruct traditional piano expression; they interrogate the emotional stakes of sound in an era where immersion culture flattens meaning and algorithmic logic erodes agency.

The album’s title references the Russian formalist Viktor Shklovsky’s concept of “ostranenie” (ɐstrɐˈnjenjɪj, estrangement/defamiliarization), a term he introduced in the early 1920s to describe art’s role in resisting the indifference of habitual perception.

“And so, held accountable for nothing, life fades into nothingness. Automation eats away at things, at clothes, at furniture, at our wives, and at our fear of war.”
—Viktor Shklovsky, Theory of Prose (1925)

Shklovsky saw art as a way to break through the anesthetizing effects of routine, stripping away the layers of habit that dull our senses. By making the familiar strange, art reclaims perception from the mechanical and the automatic. His argument wasn’t just a theoretical exercise — it was a response to a world rapidly consumed by industrialization, war machines, and the alienation of a technologically dominated modern life. In this context, he positioned artistic technique as something autonomous, distinct from mere social criticism or psychological reflection. Art seeks to remove “...the crust that the world of things deposits on our senses, with routine’s unending murder of the real.” Ben Ehrenreich on Serena Vitale’s Making Strange (The Nation, 2013)

This tension—between revolutionary/artistic and industrial technologies—defined the 20th century, and it continues to resonate today. The mechanization and automation that fueled the First World War’s devastation, alongside the social and economic turbulence of the 1920s, became central to the era’s self-conception. But just as technology was a source of alienation, it was also positioned as an agent of radical change. As the shock of modernity disrupted the human condition, it also became the driving force behind an ideological utopia — one that ultimately deformed into political totalitarianism — a paradox that remains unresolved.

OSTRANENIE plays within this contradiction. The music shifts seamlessly between an uncanny black MIDI dismantling of traditional piano virtuosity and moments of raw, fragile intimacy. The result is a work that resists automatic anonymity while questioning what it means to create in an era where the technological mediation of sound — and experience itself — is unavoidable: Art in the age of its technological constructedness.

Havukruunu is the spirit of freedom, harbinger of oblivion, and it tells you: FLY, YOU FOOLS! Svart Records is set to release the band’s fourth album TAVASTLAND in February 2025 After three albums, the pieces of the puzzle fit, and Havukruunu, the favorite band of the sensitive and sorrowful returns with a vengeance to blur the line between the real and unreal. The sorrowful guitars of Stefa and Bootleg-Henkka draw threatening dark shadows on the wall, Kostajainen's drumming bombardement pulses like embers of a dying fire in the hearth. All the while, Humö's bass guitar is clanking and wailing like the icy wind rattling windows and banging walls, as Stefa roars and channels messages from the netherworld or preaches wisdom of ancient days, backed by a choir. Lords of Hell smile approving as the flames of hatred and cunning of their beloved sons drowns a dying old world, and heart of the earth trembles the birth of new and weird. Havukruunu is the spirit of freedom, harbinger of oblivion, and it tells you: FLY, YOU FOOLS! Havukruunu’s upcoming album TAVASTLAND tells the story of a small, strange people. ”-TAVASTLAND tells how in 1237 the Tavastians rose in a rebellion against the church of Christ and drove the popes naked into the frost to die. TAVASTLAND reveals our fathers’ centuries old sins and lies of consolation. TAVASTLAND speaks of him, who has become a prisoner of his home, alienated from the land of the forest and is now afraid of the dark with all lights on, surrounded by his smart devices. TAVASTLAND tells about the freedom we lost. TAVASTLAND haunts its listener to the grave, and I will personally open that grave one bleak night, and steal the fading light of your sempiternal soul.”, says Stefa. TAVASTLAND is available on Svart exclusive ice & blood vinyl edition, limited to 666 copies. Also available on limited amber & black smoke vinyl, classic black vinyl, CD, cassette tape, and digital platforms. All vinyl editions of the first pressing include a booklet and poster. New Havukruunu T-shirt also up for pre-order now at Svart’s webstore. Release date February 28th, 2025.

Havukruunu is the spirit of freedom, harbinger of oblivion, and it tells you: FLY, YOU FOOLS! Svart Records is set to release the band’s fourth album TAVASTLAND in February 2025 After three albums, the pieces of the puzzle fit, and Havukruunu, the favorite band of the sensitive and sorrowful returns with a vengeance to blur the line between the real and unreal. The sorrowful guitars of Stefa and Bootleg-Henkka draw threatening dark shadows on the wall, Kostajainen's drumming bombardement pulses like embers of a dying fire in the hearth. All the while, Humö's bass guitar is clanking and wailing like the icy wind rattling windows and banging walls, as Stefa roars and channels messages from the netherworld or preaches wisdom of ancient days, backed by a choir. Lords of Hell smile approving as the flames of hatred and cunning of their beloved sons drowns a dying old world, and heart of the earth trembles the birth of new and weird. Havukruunu is the spirit of freedom, harbinger of oblivion, and it tells you: FLY, YOU FOOLS! Havukruunu’s upcoming album TAVASTLAND tells the story of a small, strange people. ”-TAVASTLAND tells how in 1237 the Tavastians rose in a rebellion against the church of Christ and drove the popes naked into the frost to die. TAVASTLAND reveals our fathers’ centuries old sins and lies of consolation. TAVASTLAND speaks of him, who has become a prisoner of his home, alienated from the land of the forest and is now afraid of the dark with all lights on, surrounded by his smart devices. TAVASTLAND tells about the freedom we lost. TAVASTLAND haunts its listener to the grave, and I will personally open that grave one bleak night, and steal the fading light of your sempiternal soul.”, says Stefa. TAVASTLAND is available on Svart exclusive ice & blood vinyl edition, limited to 666 copies. Also available on limited amber & black smoke vinyl, classic black vinyl, CD, cassette tape, and digital platforms. All vinyl editions of the first pressing include a booklet and poster. New Havukruunu T-shirt also up for pre-order now at Svart’s webstore. Release date February 28th, 2025.

Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 is the first ever archival release from Repetition Repetition, the “two-man electric minimalist band” consisting of Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton hailing from Los Angeles in the mid 1980’s. Repetition Repetition’s unique blend of cosmic art-rock minimalism / maximalism was self-released across a series of cassettes produced in micro editions, and while garnering the attention and participation of luminaries such as Harold Budd, remained under the radar during the band’s existence. Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 collects select material from across the duo’s catalog.

It was over a plate of Mexican breakfast food when Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton first told Harold Budd of Repetition Repetition and the worlds they intended to explore by respective way of synthesizers and guitars --- a rendezvous instigated by the former’s fan mail to the legendary composer. If the upstarts entered this restaurant from a one-way street of admiration, they would leave with not only Budd’s interest but, sometime later, a blessing in the wake of many hours shared by the three in Garcia’s Los Angeles home recording studio: “This is going to be difficult, but God help them, I think they’re great,” noted Budd in a USC lecture in 1985. Now several degrees removed from prior rock music aspirations, the real game was afoot.

Between 1984 and 1988, Repetition Repetition operated within something akin to the underground of the experimental underground, although even that designation perhaps overstates the case. The duo’s sparse output consisted of three cassettes self-released on Garcia’s Third Stone Music label: Repetition Repetition (1985), Lakeland (1987), and The Machinist (1987). Their songs would also be included during this period on Trance Port Tapes’ vital scene-scanning compilations assembled by A Produce. Live performances occurred with similar infrequency, but Garcia and Caton counted converts in quality over quantity, numbering among them the aforementioned Budd, a Chambers Brother, and, judging by a memorably drop-jawed reaction following a rare Repetition Repetition gig, Jackson Browne.

Likewise, critical support materialized in the form of KCRW deejays Brent Wilcox and Dean Suzuki, whose steady airplay positioned Repetition Repetition’s music amidst fearless company like Jon Hassell, Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Richard Horowitz. Yet, to hear fellow Trance Port featured players like Tom Recchion and Bruce Licher of Savage Republic tell it, Garcia and Caton moved as ghosts --- a notion more vexingly endorsed by the silence of record companies that failed to come knocking --- and therein lies an overarching truth to the work itself.

Journey to the heart of Repetition Repetition and one discovers a collective ear impossibly attuned to the hypnotic possibilities of stylistic convergence, the resulting music possessed of seamless multimodalities which beckon to a glimmering plane of the disembodied. Where Caton sought his artistic fixes at an intersection of popular genres, Garcia zoned in on the sonically spare, drawing from the same wellspring as the Enos and Rileys of his personal avant-garde pantheon, and in their coming together the two tapped into a deeper cosmic source. Synthetic walls of keyboard sound in forever states of reprise met waves of shimmering --- and at times even punishing --- guitar in reply, their soundscapes hovering convincingly between, as suggested in fittingly dualistic fashion in a press kit assembled by Garcia, such disparate sensations as bird flight in one song and oil drilling in the next.

But don’t call it a push-pull dynamic, as this was a creative partnership founded upon fluidity and organicism by way of, naturally, repetition. In contrast to, say, the Bressonian ideal of repetitive motion as a great stripping away, the concept in the hands of Garcia and Caton equated to ascendancy via continuous unfolding, a maximal route to minimalism. To be sure, their recording philosophy morphed over the course of the act’s short history, and what started as a process defined by consistent in-person interplay developed into a more isolated method formulated by Garcia, who eventually took to his own one-man bedroom-studio sessions in order to fully chart any and all potential ostinato-loaded paths which he could travel down, the Tascam-captured resonances subsequently provided to Caton as blueprints from which to take flight himself, adding layer upon layer of steel to the proceedings.

If the practice and execution changed, however, the evidence certainly didn’t rest in the results: The seamlessness remained, and, despite the brevity of their time together, so has Repetition Repetition. With this finely calibrated collection of songs in Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987, Freedom To Spend sees to it that the private worlds of Garcia and Caton can now be visited by all rather than just the count-‘em-on-both-hands lucky few whose musical endeavors or collector vocations carried them into this once-distant dimension.

Repetition Repetition’s Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 will be released on Freedom To Spend in vinyl and digital editions on May 30, 2025. The collection includes extensive liner notes from Bill Perrine, and wil be offered alongside Over & Over, a supplemental collection of music available exclusively as a mail order cassette from Freedom To Spend and RVNG Intl.

Teal’s debut LP, Original Watercolour, is an album that feels like a canvas come to life. A sonic blend of street-soul, digi-dub, and downtempo. Original Watercolour explores the complexities of love, oneness, and intuition — themes that resonate deeply within the context of the history women have shared with what was once known as the “ladies’ medium.”

The bi-coastal family trio—Ashleigh and Melissa Ball, better known as the Ball Sisters, alongside producer N1_SOUND—bring a fresh, genre-defying sound to the table with their latest 6-track album. Running just under 30 minutes, this immersive collection weaves together skipping beats, addictive bass lines, three-dimensional flute textures & emotional vocal melodies. This musical portrait is as ethereal as it is powerful, inviting the listener to get lost in its depths while celebrating the beauty of self-expression.

The opening track, “Original Watercolour,” takes you on a psychedelic trip-hop journey. From the first reverberous snare hit, you’re whisked away to a sonic wetland — lush and euphoric. The soft yet poignant soundscapes set the tone for the album, inviting us into a world where the boundaries between earth and music, reality and imagination, automatically seem to blur.

“Locked In 2 Love” offers a boogie-fueled bassline that pushes Teal into dance-floor territory with soaring flutes and rhythmic intricacies that make it impossible not to move — it’s a track that exemplifies the magic of Teal’s ability to craft both intimate and expansive musical landscapes. And then, there’s the hypnotic flow of “One In The Same,” where stacked vocal harmonies and mantra-esque lyrics transport you to a place that could easily be mistaken for a lost Soulquarians demo. It’s gentle yet unrelenting in its depth.

The second side of the album opens with “Sleep on It,” a track that immediately grabs attention with its dancehall-driven rhythm. Ashleigh Ball's vocals set the stage for a song that’s both introspective and emotionally charged, yet unmistakably rooted in groove. The phased-out bassline creates an almost hypnotic atmosphere. Pulling the listener into a mood of contemplation—matching the restless, sleepless night that Ball describes. As the song progresses, this groove builds in intensity, culminating in an explosive ending that mirrors the emotional release of a long-held frustration.

Original Watercolour is more than just an album — it’s a meditation on the interconnectedness of life and art. “Frog Kingdom,” the longest and only instrumental track creates a contemplative space that builds upon the themes introduced earlier. It feels like a sequel to their earlier work, Frog Legacy from their debut Bluish Green 2024 12”, expanding on the familiar sound with even more complex layers.

Yet the real emotional power of the record lies in its closing track, “Can’t Shake the Feeling.” Simple in structure but profound in impact, this song captures a deep yearning and understanding — that everything, from the ecosystems we inhabit to the relationships we nurture and the art we create, is fundamentally interconnected. As the track crescendos in a falsetto peak, it becomes clear that the album is a reflection of both the world around us and the personal journey each member of the band has embarked upon to get to this point.

Just as the medium of watercolor has been traditionally linked to women artists, Teal carries this legacy into the modern musical landscape, blending the richness of history with a unique forward-thinking perspective. The album feels like both a celebration of the past and a bold declaration of a path forward — one that welcomes anyone ready to join in and shape the future of the art form.

The beauty of Teal’s work is that it feels familiar, while simultaneously offering something new and refreshing. Original Watercolour doesn’t just push musical boundaries; it redefines them, offering a lush and textured soundtrack for those willing to listen closely.

In a world that often feels over-saturated, Original Watercolour stands as a reminder of the power of simplicity, intuition, and connection. Teal’s debut album invites you to experience something both deeply personal and universally understood. The landscapes they create are vivid, yet soft, grounding yet expansive. With each track, Teal’s music reflects the interconnectedness of all things — a truly unique piece of work in the world of experimental soul and dub adjacent electronic music.

Rising and falling. We all live in the same pond. Peace to all.

Berlin-based French-Irish multimedia artist Zoe Mc Pherson levels up on their third full-length "Pitch Blender", mangling years of experience DJing and performing live into a tight set of cybernetic soundsystem experiments that flicker between the rave and the art space.

Cast your mind back to February 2020 for a moment, when Mc Pherson released their last album "States of Fugue". The world seemed less tangled somehow, and yet Mc Pherson's precision-engineered fusion of exploratory sound design and visceral club pressure seemed to hint at a cataclysmic event none of us were really expecting. Only a few weeks after its release the world changed forever, and the majority of us were grounded - forced to consider our lives and the movement (or lack thereof) surrounding us. The philosophy of this extended time period is welded into the bones of "Pitch Blender", Mc Pherson's supple third album. They have learned plenty in the last two years, and infuse all of that anxiety and spiky emotionality into a spread of tracks that sound as powerful in headphones as they do over a well-tweaked soundsystem, soldering vocals, environmental recordings and instrumental flourishes to unpredictably pneumatic, cybernetic beats.

Anyone that's caught one of Mc Pherson's energetic live performances over the last few months will have an idea of what "Pitch Blender" is made of. They're an artist who's somehow able to match the raw energy of post-punk and no-wave music with the brain-altering potential of the best experimental club tracks, vocalizing an incongruous post-lockdown reality over beats that sound as if they're in a permanent state of flux. 'On Fire' splutters to life in a frenetic patter of drums that blur into oddly soothing hoover sounds, snaking lysergically towards a drop that's teased constantly, and never comes. We're forced to wait until 'The Spark' for that, fighting through choppy, pitch-mangled guitar and rolling beats until a gruesome kick drum forces its way through the psilocybin mists and heaving Bristol-inspired bass clonks. Backed up with just the inverted traces of recognizable breaks, this vigorous pulse lies at the heart of "Pitch Blender", the driving force that powers Mc Pherson's sound even when it's only hinted at.

'Blender' is the moment where Mc Pherson show their full hand, using crackling sound effects, ghost vocals and uneven rhythms to build a textural landscape that's so evocative you can almost taste it. Squealing modular synth effects sound like gameshow buzzers being triggered in another dimension and propel the track forward - it's club music, just about, but Mc Pherson's motivation is world-building, and their world is colorful, abstract, and dizzyingly surreal. "Obsolete user," their voice echoes over driving airlock kicks. But they take a swift left turn with 'Lamella', reducing the kinetic club rhythms to a longing simmer and letting loose with powerful vocals, intoning with robotic, gender-fluxed intensity. On 'Wait', New York City's clacking crosswalk signal - already an effective club track on its own - is transformed into a reminder to slow down, juxtaposed with booming sub-heavy kicks, acidic synths and effervescent percussion that rattles in time with the vibrations. It's foley rave, built for pure psychedelic intensity to blur the line between real life and sonic fiction.

One of the album's most galvanic tracks, 'Power Dynamics' curves a double-time rhythm around breathless HQ sound design squiggles until it hits a polyrhythmic crescendo, striking a queasy balance between rave hedonism and ritualistic hand drum energy. It all builds towards eerie closing track 'Outside' that acts as an important wind down, spotlighting Mc Pherson's ability to operate outside of the rhythmic spectrum, using cinematic scrapes and flickering neon synths to create music that's tense but never terrifying. The track feels like the end credits of a particularly bewildering movie - something between the cyberpunk dystopia of "Ghost in the Shell" and the vivid, sky-scraping beauty of "Koyaanisqatsi". Mc Pherson has managed something special with "Pitch Blender": mashing together genres with rare focus, and sharpening their engineering skills to a fine point, they've concocted an antidote to contemporary malaise - a wakeup call that's begging us to loosen our limbs and move.

Listen to This.” As the original working title for Bitches Brew, the instruction and invitation remains to this day as the best way to approach a record that shattered conventions, altered music history, and, 55 years later, still sounds far ahead of its time. The template for jazz fusion, Bitches Brew is rightly ranked by virtually every significant outlet among the 100 greatest albums ever made. Sewn together with vibrant colors, voodoo textures, and ethereal moods, the 1970 landmark emerges with supreme detail and nonpareil feeling on Mobile Fidelity’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 33RPM 2LP vinyl set.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, this definitive-sounding 55th anniversary reissue enhances every element of a double album that established new possibilities for studio recording techniques. You’ll hear wide and deep soundstages, separation between instruments, and an extremely broad dynamic range. If ever a jazz album can be said to have gone to outer space and back, this is it.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, this definitive-sounding 55th anniversary reissue enhances every element of a double album that established new possibilities for studio recording techniques. You’ll hear wide and deep soundstages, separation between instruments, and an extremely broad dynamic range. If ever a jazz album can be said to have gone to outer space and back, this is it.

Davis conceived Bitches Brew by having the musicians stand in a semi-circle. There, he pointed at them with vague directions for tempo, solos, and cues. The collective improvisation and interplay spawned a galaxy of melodies and grooves that were later spliced together by producer Ted Macero. Benefitting from the ultra-low noise floor and superb groove definition of this pressing, these distinct creations take shape with utmost realism. Compositions stretch across jet-black backgrounds and paint canvases laden with millions of colors and shades. Juxtaposed percussion, loose jams, and melodic segues explode with impressionistic verve.

Bitches Brew also boasts visionary artwork. By design, the lavish packaging and gorgeous presentation of the UD1S Bitches Brew set call attention to such matters. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. It is made for discerning listeners who desire to fully immerse themselves in everything surrounding the album, from the images to the tones. And this is one effort where every last detail matters.

Gathering a Hall of Fame-worthy lineup of musicians and tweaking it according to his desires, Davis follows through on his idea to “put together the greatest rock and roll band you ever heard.” Central to his proposition is the presence of two (and sometimes three) drummers and two bassists, a tactical move that makes rhythms a central focus. Akin to the futuristic album cover art, the drum-driven suites head toward distant universes and uncharted territories. At once hypnotizing and grooving, they chart maverick adventures via quixotic rock, funk, and R&B elements.

A without-a-net experiment involving interchangeable double-quintet lineups, Bitches Brew explores the previously unimaginable with electrified instruments — Fender Rhodes piano, processed trumpet, dissonant guitars, and bass among them — and an emphasis on feeling over composition. Mesmerizing and soothing, jarring and smooth, overt and subtle: The music seemingly covers an entire map of emotions and sensations, and like no record before, ties together the groundbreaking creativity of the multiple disciplines that were changing popular culture at the end of the 1960s and dawn of a new decade.

Conceptually, Davis described Bitches Brew as “a novel without words” and “an incredible journey of pain, joy, sorrow, hate, passion, and love.” The vast psychedelic expanses of warped echoes, liquid reverb, and tape loops confirm such ambitious contrasts of light and dark, fear and hope. Yet the most absolute characteristic of the watershed effort lies in how it resists definitive interpretation and encourages free thought — the very principles Davis used to conceive Bitches Brew.

More About Mobile Fidelity UltraDisc One-Step and Why It Is Superior
Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab’s UltraDisc One-Step (UD1S) technique bypasses generational losses inherent to the traditional three-step plating process by removing two steps: the production of father and mother plates, which are created to yield numerous stampers from each lacquer that is cut. For UD1S plating, stampers (also called “converts”) are made directly from the lacquers. Since each lacquer yields only one stamper, multiple lacquers need to be cut. Mobile Fidelity's UD1S process produces a final LP with the lowest-possible noise floor. The removal of two steps of the plating process also reveals musical details and dynamics that would otherwise be lost due to the standard multi-step process. With UD1S, every aspect of vinyl production is optimized to produce the best-sounding vinyl album available today.

"The album was created in this back and forth of snapshots - we made most of the decisions impulsively without much questioning. That takes a lot of trust." — Violeta García & Hora Lunga

"I'll Wait For You In The Car Park", the first full length collaboration between Argentinian cellist, improviser and composer Violeta García and Swiss musician and composer Hora Lunga, is a work of extremes. Drawing from the realities of life on two continents, and embodying moods ranging from stoic desire to violent bursts, the album enciphers so-called ordinary moments from everyday life into an alluring collection of musical scenes. Seemingly inconspicuous moments are condensed into a tale of synchronicity: colliding time zones and seasons, metropolitan rhythms raining down onto a glacier's ice field, exploring places through street view, the serendipity of loitering at a kiosk. As such, "I'll Wait For You In The Car Park" brings documentary film essays to mind that carefully observe the private and everyday occurrences.
Violeta García and Hora Lunga crossed paths by chance in 2023 and began discussing and sharing music shortly afterwards. What started as a loose exchange of ideas, sending back and forth sketches and demos between South America and Europe, grew into several studio sessions in 2024. Being sucked into a "quite extraordinary flow", the two musicians recorded, arranged and intervened on a level playing field, using the studio as a playground to record musical layers and interweave them with field recordings and audio notes gathered over the course of a year. Speaking a kindred musical language, they quickly realized how their ideas clung to each other like two familiar souls, complementing, intertwining and merging. From gauzy and eerie textures, musical miniatures floating through time, howling and screaming strings, to tumbling and thundering basses – the sound of the ordinary shapes a body that vibrates, writhes and breathes.

Violeta García is a cellist, improviser and composer from Buenos Aires, Argentina. Based in Spain, she tours a lot with her band Blanco Teta. She is a performer in many art forms, including free improvisation, contemporary and trans-media experimental repertoire in violoncello and electronics and collaborations with dancers, film makers and visual artists. After years of studying classical and popular music on violoncello and, later, contemporary composition and improvisation, Violeta has developed her own musical voice needed to emerge beyond outside specific genres.

Throughout Swiss composer and musician Hora Lunga's work, the focus lies is on exploring boundaries, both musically and in terms of performance and content. Above all, genre designations lose all meaning, as the music always takes place within a dramaturgically conceived overall framework. In recent years, his projects have ranged from pop music productions to experimental works and sound performances, as well astheatre and film productions. His ensemble WIRREN consists of up to fifteen performers.

With the Do For You EP, Fossar embarks on a deeply personal yet universal journey that’s as adventurous as our label’s name - Zissou. Known for his beautifully textured releases on Fuck Reality and Feuilleton, Fossar delivers a five-track exploration into the highs and lows of forging your own path. Each track reflects a different shade of the journey - passion, doubt, euphoria, and self-discovery, all woven together through Fossar’s signature warm basslines, hypnotic melodies, and crisp, driving rhythms.

More than just an EP, Do For You is a soundtrack for the summer, a call to take charge, and a reminder that the true adventure lies within. The path isn’t always clear, but the music is here to guide you.

Repressed in coloured vinyl ! prod.by Ill Bill, DJ Muggs, DJ Premier, Necro, DJ Lethal, T-Ray, Sicknature, Cynic & Hero / Raekwon the Chef, Immortal Technique, Tech N9ne, Vinnie Paz (Jedi Mind Tricks), La Coka Nostra, B-Real, Howard Jones (Killswitch Engage), Bad Brains, Max Cavalera (Sepultura/Soulfly), Necro and others.

High Roller Records, 180g black vinyl, ltd 250, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, insert, poster, A5 photo card, black vinyl bonus 7" in p/s

Auf "The Principle of Doubt" stellten Mekong Delta Uwe Baltrusch als neuen Gitarristen vor, der Reiner Kelch ersetzte, und ließen die 1980er mit einem Highlight ausklingen. Das 1989er Studioalbum der deutschen Tech-Thrash-Pioniere stand seinen beiden Vorgängern in nichts nach, zeichnete sich aber durch die bisher dynamischste Produktion der Band aus - gut so in Hinblick auf jene Orchesterparts, die man Band in Zukunft regelmäßig von der Band zu hören bekommen sollte.

High Roller Records, 180g black vinyl, ltd 250, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, insert, poster, A5 photo card, black vinyl bonus 7" in p/s

Auf "The Principle of Doubt" stellten Mekong Delta Uwe Baltrusch als neuen Gitarristen vor, der Reiner Kelch ersetzte, und ließen die 1980er mit einem Highlight ausklingen. Das 1989er Studioalbum der deutschen Tech-Thrash-Pioniere stand seinen beiden Vorgängern in nichts nach, zeichnete sich aber durch die bisher dynamischste Produktion der Band aus - gut so in Hinblick auf jene Orchesterparts, die man Band in Zukunft regelmäßig von der Band zu hören bekommen sollte.