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The song titles on Van Halen's aptly titled Fair Warning don't lie. The likes of "Unchained," "Mean Street," "Push Comes to Shove," "One Foot Out the Door," and more indicate the mood the band channels on its double-platinum 1981 record — the nastiest, darkest, and fiercest album of the group's storied career. For the fourth time in four years, Van Halen throws down the gauntlet to all challengers and emerges victorious.


Sourced from the original analog tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at Fidelity Record Pressing, and strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set plays with unfettered clarity, dynamics, and immediacy. Benefitting from superb groove definition, an ultra-low noise floor, and dead-quiet surfaces, this vinyl edition captures what went down in the studio with tremendous realism and involving presence.

Taking a more controlled approach in the studio and still completing everything in less than two weeks, Van Halen and producer Ted Templeman relied on studio amplifiers to direct the sound. Further diverging from the live-on-the-floor approach of its earlier albums, the ensemble also employed overdubs to great effect. The result: Dense, stacked architecture that underlines the hard-hitting tenor of the songs — and which comes alive like never before on this reference edition that looks as good as it sounds.

The premium packaging and gorgeous presentation befit the reissue's select status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Aurally and visually, it is made for listeners who want to immerse themselves in everything involved with the album, including the iconic cover art adopted from William Kurelek's haunting painting, "The Maze."

Isolated frames from Kurelek's childhood-inspired work — including a man bashing his head into a brick wall, a guy pinning down an adversary as he delivers bare-fist blows to his face and others watch with apparent glee, a boy tied down on a conveyer belt and being sent through the equivalent of a meat saw — adorn the front and back covers. The sunnier visual disposition of Van Halen's prior efforts gives way to something sinister and tortured, traits reflective of the music within. The band members, too, are visually depicted not in glamorous shots but in a serious black-and-white portrait in which the quartet is clad in black leather jackets.

Tough, aggressive, stark: Fair Warning comes on like a series of bare-knuckled punches to the solar plexus and boasts lyrical narratives to match. Though not a concept record, the concise album revolves around themes of roughing it on the streets and struggling to survive amid dim prospects. Singer David Lee Roth reportedly penned many of the initial lyrics after traveling to Haiti and observing extreme poverty. The characters and situations populating Fair Warning reflect hardscrabble existence, last-chance desperation, and underlying danger.

Witness the crazies, poor folks, and hunters of “Mean Street”; the former prom queen turned pornographic actress on “Dirty Movies”; the menace and vice of “Sinners Swing!”; the streetwise hustle of “Unchained”; the isolation and alienation of “Push Comes to Shove”; the desire for escape on “One Foot Out the Door”: A carefree California beach party Fair Warning is not.

Having said he felt angry and frustrated during the sessions, guitarist Eddie Van Halen uses the forceful arrangements as a playground for his seemingly unlimited arsenal. Supported by a crack rhythm section and a hyped-up Roth, he performs with an almost impossible combination of punk-like intensity, technical finesse, lyrical fluidity, and unbridled emotion. The virtuoso was increasingly butting heads with Templeton and seeking a freedom in the studio he believed denied him.

No wonder he plays like a bat out of hell. Listen to the rapid-fire manner in which he slaps the high and low E strings on the 12th fret of his instrument on “Mean Street,” instilling the tune with funk flair and metal-spiked sharpness. For the pouty strut of “Dirty Movies,” Eddie Van Halen contributes slide guitar magic made possible after he sawed off the lower portion of a Gibson SG so he could reach further down the fretboard.

Related intensity, urgency, and daredevil momentum punctuate the surging “Sinner’s Swing!” A heavily flanged, delicately melodic introduction frames the attitudinal “Hear About It Later,” among the most creative arrangements of Van Halen’s career. And do riffs come any bigger or magnetic than those on the high-wire kick of “Unchained”? As for the out-of-left-field “Sunday in the Park,” an instrumental composed on an Electro-Harmonix micro-synthesizer: Who but Eddie Van Halen to supply creep factor in such an ingenious way?

Despite selling fewer quantities than Van Halen’s prior efforts, Fair Warning remains for many diehards the record that epitomizes all of the band’s immense strengths —Roth’s manic energy and tongue-wagging humor, Alex Van Halen’s rhythmic heartbeat-in-your-chest bombast, and Michael Anthony’s lucid bass lines included. Arriving when the New Wave of British Heavy Metal and new-wave movements were taking flight, it signaled a shot across the bow from a band determined to stay a step ahead and provide proof nobody could touch what it delivered.

More than four decades later, Fair Warning still sounds that alarm.

The notion of home isn’t precise, even a dictionary will offer multiple definitions. A home can be a place where you live, a place where you belong, where you originate from or a place where you’re given care; it can be a physical space, a land, a people or even a person. The concept isn’t completely universal, but everyone possesses a unique idea of what home means to them. On her fifth album, Ziúr considers not just what home symbolizes from her perspective, but the word’s resonance to the diverse community that surrounds her, and how their stories have impacted her over the years. Indeed, it’s the first time she’s felt it necessary to examine her own nationality. In the past, she’s deliberately avoided labelling herself as German, feeling disconnected from her country’s politics, culture and even the German language itself. In 2025, the idea of Germanness is in flux and progressives are under attack from all sides. The country’s politics aren’t only being turned inward by the growing throng of far-right voices, but by scared moderates, opportunists and those blinded by comfort, willing to ignore hatred to maintain their privilege. Stepping up to provide a different narrative, Ziúr scours her soul, writing and singing in German for the first time and proposing growth and evolution, not fear and regression. “I never considered being part of Germany,” she explains. “But I am.”

A solemn mood permeates the album’s opening track ‘Brown is the Color’, and Ziúr sings in measured, slow-motion breaths over noisy synth oscillations and doomed piano flourishes. Already, it’s a significant departure from her last run of releases, veering away from the frenetic, satirical chaos of 2023’s Hakuna Kulala-released ‘Eyeroll’ or its fantastical, dubby predecessor ‘Antifate’. Ziúr pulls on real world insights here, tracing her oldest, dearest musical inspirations to present her origins to anybody who might be listening. “Cold world is holding up,” she laments with a metallic crunch. “To let go of your heart, let me go.” And her voice emerges from the shadows completely on ‘Tame’; unprocessed, Ziúr sounds naked and vulnerable on ‘Tame’, curving her precise words around broken, lopsided rhythms and jangling new wave guitars. It’s pop music in its own way, inverted and reconstructed to fit snugly into her well-established sonic landscape. On ‘No Yawn’, brittle, downsampled hi-hats and industrial scrapes ping-pong around distorted riffs, provided by James Ó Ceallaigh aka WIFE; “You fail to sugarcoat your half-ass attempt,” she deadpans, “to build your promised wonderland on quicksand.” Even the beatless ‘All Odds No Chants’, a collaboration with Elvin Brandhi and Sara Persico, reveals another room in Ziúr’s autobiographical suite, mirroring György Ligeti’s enduringly influential choral works with its gnarled, dissonant vocal harmonies.

James Brown wants to know one thing before he and his band begin Sex Machine. “Can I get into the thing, really?,” he asks. His cohorts enthusiastically respond in the affirmative. And for the next hour and change, Mr. Dynamite gets into it and more, turning in a sweat-soaked, feet-moving, hip-swiveling, emotion-purging, in-the-red, drop-everything-you’re-doing-and-dance performance for the ages. Ranked by Rolling Stone among the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, the sweeping 1970 effort towers as a testament to Brown’s inimitable legacy as well as the peak powers of his voice, vibrancy, and bands.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set presents Sex Machine in audiophile sound for the first time. It explodes with the energy the lightning-strike music demands. Dynamic, immediate, present, airy: Everything from the brassiness and fluidity of the horns to the snap and decay of the snare to the swell and carry of the organ comes across in full-range perspective.

Then there’s Brown’s superhuman singing, which here emerges with a purity, naturalism, and transparency that ensure you feel everything. Screeching, shouting, pleading, moaning, preaching, stinging, commanding, testifying, crooning, humming: The Godfather of Soul contributes one of the finest vocal performances known to man. This definitive 55th anniversary reissue of Brown’s monster funk statement further exhibits a combination of clarity, solidity, separation, and imaging that helps bring to light what he and his crack ensembles committed to tape. Both in the studio and on the stage.

Just how lifelike does this reissue sound? Senior Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab engineer Krieg Wunderlich, who handled the remaster, notes: “There were some artifacts that sounded a bit like mistracking. But they turned out to be breath blasts on the vocal microphone. That is part of history. JB was workin' hard, and breathin' hard. And there was an edit the timing of that was truly strange. Again, a part of history.”

Originally marketed as a live album, Sex Machine contains six songs recorded in the studio and later overdubbed with canned crowd noise and reverberation. Save for “Low Down Popcorn,” the tracks on the latter half stem from a phenomenal performance captured in October 1969 at Bell Auditorium in Brown’s adopted hometown of Augusta, GA. The special relationship between the singer, the audience, and the location is palpable.

As the 1960s gave way to a new decade, Brown experienced immense success and dealt with unexpected change. Soul Brother Number One soon expanded his idea for an official live album captured in Augusta when the ensemble that backed him on that date morphed into the original version of the world-famous J.B.’s just months after the show. The virtuosic abilities, sticky chemistry, and rhythm-forward nature of the J.B.’s prompted him to book a one-off session in Cincinnati, OH, on a late July night.

Anchored by brothers William “Bootsy” Collins and Phelps “Catfish” Collins, the group — as well as two different drummers — laid down a nearly 11-minute rendition of “Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” and a thrilling medley of “Bewildered,” “I Got the Feeling,” and “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose.” A pair of then-recent studio singles cut in separate locations in 1969, “Brother Rapp” and “Low Down Popcorn,” each featuring his prior group, took care of the second LP worth of material that complements the originally planned live set.

Complicated? Somewhat. Unusual? Definitely. But just as he elevated the expectations for all present and future R&B artists, Brown not only makes it all work. He makes it positively electrifying.

“Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” is alone deserving of a dissertation on the art of funk music, seeing it moves up and down akin to an oil derrick, witnesses Brown unleashing a trademark series of grunts, squeaks, and “good god” asides, and glides to a hypnotic groove that won’t quit. Or look to the syncopated rhythms of “Brother Rapp (Part I and Part II),” one of multiple pieces here that signify the point where Brown began viewing every instrument as a percussive tool. Brown closes the three-song medley with his new band with a skedaddling “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose,” which provides jolts on the order of sticking your finger into a socket.

Not that the actual live material falls short in any way. Setting an insistent tempo for the vitality that follows, “I Don’t Want Nobody to Give Me Nothing” positions Brown as a role model, leader, and self-sufficient entrepreneur. All simmer and boil, the short and sweet “Licking Stick” dares you to keep pace. The floating, almost comforting “Spinning Wheel” spotlights the instrumental prowess of Maceo Parker and company, and functions as a seamless segue into the tender, horn-saluted “If I Ruled the World.”

And Brown and his mates still aren’t done. Just try to resist the one-two closing punch of “I Can’t Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)” and “Mother Popcorn.” Mercy.

Ain’t it funky? Sure ‘nuff.

Spanish Love Songs return with a new EP, a reflective collection created mid-process while writing their next full-length. Since forming in 2013, the band has grown from DIY roots into one of modern punk’s most vital voices with albums like Schmaltz, Brave Faces Everyone, and No Joy. Vocalist Dylan Slocum calls these songs “imperfect snapshots,” built in real time with friends and collaborators — including Kevin Devine, Illuminati Hotties, Dan Campbell, and Tigers Jaw. The vinyl release will pair the new EP with their previous No Joy – Sessions and Doom and Gloom Sessions, offering fans a comprehensive physical collection.

French artist based in Brussels, Che Vuoi presents her first album Cinecittàx, a nod to the great Italian studio, and a tribute to false dreams.

A theatre at the back of a run-down piano bar, where surreal and intimate scenes unfold; words and stories drawn from disparate sources: Fellini, G. Réal, Diderot... or written by herself, spoken, shouted or barely whispered by an altered voice.


Noises, samples, a drum machine, a brush on a snare drum, a piano spinning round and round until it reaches delirium and its own abolition, leaving us suspended in a constant in-between or a time that never truly existed.



« This voice, gentle, mad, with lightning verve, tells between the lines and the echoes the presence of threatening shadows and ghosts. And it is Che Vuoi, her character, her world of images, that haunts us. It is a strange bewitchment that carries us beyond the words she has freed from "the stationery I stole from Bellavista the other night" ("le papier à lettre que j’ai chipé au Bellavista l’autre soir") into the lair of her universe, as whimsical as it is silky in which we let ourselves slip, as one would slip over the rock of an esoteric river, in the heart of a forest that makes music and has delirious things to tell us. »

SPFDJ steps up for her long-awaited debut EP, Heel Thyself, out Friday 7th November on Intrepid Skin.

A core figure in grassroots techno circuits, and an internationally lauded DJ, SPFDJ's ascent reflects a passion for music governed by love and grit in equal measure. At once providing a gleefully chaotic two-fingers to dance music's self-serious establishment, whilst also flexing an ever-expanding knowledge of its roots and potentials, her musical armoury is renowned the world over for inspiring debauchery and sweat-soaked hedonism.

As an artist whose journey has been defined by challenging the norms of electronic music, SPFDJ's rebel spirit is recognised locally and globally, but guiding this attitude is a vulnerability to the realities of the music industry, and the rise of conservatism that permeates every aspect of life. And whilst sensitive to the use of buzzwords like community, it's ultimately a respect for the people who keep these scenes alive that motivates her artistry.

In releasing this EP, she taps into a more vulnerable side. The title - a nod to internal healing processes, and a play on words to motivate queers and women to 'boot up for battle' against increasingly oppressive structures - shines a light on some of the values she holds up to electronic music culture. At once playfully chaotic and deeply energising, Heel Thyself spins us through a cyclone of kicks, punches, and noise.

Opener 'Cluster B Intro' is a tempo-twisting barrage of gabber led by a robotic vocal command, setting the scene for pretty much anything to happen. 'That Stiletto Track' kicks in like a tweaked out distortion of 90s trance before spiralling upwards into a storm of heavy breaks. 'F*ckboi' is hot n heavy electro - classic in its structure, but with the added industrial touch of hammerdrill synths and razor sharp percussion. Swinging into a bouncier state, 'The Hot in Psychotic' flings ricocheting rhythms through frantic claps, with a donk to keep things moving. Rounding things off, 'Mindless Counting' flies higher with pummeling drums lifted by a touch of euphoria.

A debut laced with both defiance and self-reckoning, Heel Thyself finds the rebel looking inwards - vulnerable, but sharpened and ready.

'In collaboration with the children of Nico Kasanda, better known as Docteur Nico, Planet Ilunga proudly presents an anthology dedicated to African Fiesta Sukisa, available as a 3LP set and a digital release with bonus songs. This release is the result of many years of preparations and was realized in close partnership with Liliane Kasanda, Nico’s eldest daughter. Marking forty years since his passing, we felt that the year 2025 was the right time to honor Docteur Nico’s legacy with this original collection.
'Almost all of the African Fiesta Sukisa songs were released on Nico’s Sukisa label which translates in Lingala for “the final accomplishment”. The music on Sukisa, crafted by Nico and legendary vocalists such as Chantal, Sangana, Apôtre, Mizele, Lessa Lassan and Josky, embodies the essence of that powerful phrase with genius, class and depth. The label ran between 1966 and 1975 and released approximately 280 songs. Ngoma also issued the group between 1967 and 1971 and, in addition, reissued material from the Sukisa label. Many of these songs have become part of the collective memory of Congolese society and are still heard, discussed, and analyzed daily across digital platforms worldwide, as well as on numerous Congolese radio and TV stations.
'The album we put together features some of Nico’s signature songs alongside never before reissued tracks from the Sukisa catalog. It furthermore contains a large booklet with song commentary, testimonial interviews from well-known musicians, journalists, fans and Nico’s entourage, besides never before published photography about his personal and musical life.
'Alastair Johnston, author of the book ‘A Discography of Docteur Nico’ and longstanding Planet Ilunga collaborator, designed a stylish booklet and cover using all our collected material. Audifax Bemba, longtime admirer, compiler and connoisseur of Nico’s music, and the author of most of the song commentary in our accompanying booklet, offers his portrait of Docteur Nico:
“After displaying technical virtuosity with African Jazz, expert and accomplished guitar with African Fiesta, which musicologist Sylvain Bemba described as a dream guitar, Nico Kasanda was consecrated ‘dieu de la guitare’ by the public in the late sixties. With his band African Fiesta Sukisa, Docteur Nico displays his wide palette of unusual sounds. While exploring the Hawaiian guitar with its clear, airy, plangent, psychedelic effluvia, he continues to replicate the piano comping technique, and adds two missing strings to his bow: a simulation of the sanza (likembé or thumb piano), whose sounds he reproduces right down to the noisemakers of the tiny tin rings, on the one hand, and the sounds of the Luba balafon on the other. The right note, in the right place, at the right time, is the triptych on which Nico Kasanda’s playing is based, a note dressed in the perfect sound. A guitar of pure emotion. With African Fiesta Sukisa, his playing takes a ‘Chopin-esque’ turn, sending out more notes in a sublime adagio. The true artist is the one who simplifies everything. Docteur Nico is a genius of our time, whose style makes him the supreme exponent of the most important guitar school in Congolese music. He is recognized by his peers as the greatest African solo guitarist of all time. Sculpting sound in a tireless quest for beauty, Nico Kasanda has sublimated the guitar throughout his career.”






























[xd] Kamulangu [Outro] (Dr. Kasanda – Sukisa 135) Folklore Baluba

Acclaimed Scottish composer Craig Armstrong releases his new work Pacific via his own label CMA Records. Written for piano, cello, and electronics, the three-movement piece was originally commissioned in December 2024 by Christian Kellersman, a pioneering figure in contemporary classical and jazz music, for his new live event series Berlin Confidential, co-curated with Alexander Szlovák. The series aims to promote innovative new music projects, with a particular focus on emerging musicians and composers.

Armstrong was among the first artists invited to perform as part of Berlin Confidential, premiering Pacific at Berlin’s historic Meistersaal concert hall in March 2025. The concert featured Armstrong on piano alongside cellist Lena Angelina von Almen and producer and musician Guy Sternberg, combining acoustic instruments with live electro-acoustic treatments to create a rich and atmospheric sound world.

Recorded in May 2025 at Lowswing Studios in Kreuzberg, Pacific continues Armstrong’s ongoing exploration of blending acoustic and electronic sound in a natural, seamless way. Over several days in the studio, Armstrong, von Almen and Sternberg developed the work’s intricate textures and dynamic interplay, resulting in a recording that captures both the intimacy and expansiveness of the original live performance.

Speaking about the inspiration behind the piece, Armstrong says: “I wrote this work during a time of great instability in the world, I wrote “Pacific” as an Elegy dedicated to the many suffering in today’s conflicts and in the hope that peace will prevail.”

Across its three movements, Pacific 1 is elegiac in nature, with the main themes stated and developed throughout the piece, punctuated by recurring piano motifs. The movement is reflective and atmospheric, with subtle electronic interventions. The second movement is arrhythmic in nature, following shifting time signatures that reflect a sense of uncertainty - the music is searching and static, ending without resolution but leaving hope for one to come. Pacific 3 moves towards peace and resolution, bringing the work to a close with quiet strength and emotional release.

When speaking about the creative process and his collaborators, Armstrong said: “Lena’s beautiful playing , tone and expression worked so beautifully on Pacific, Lena was also a great collaborator and was always willing to experiment and try new musical approaches. Lena is such a natural musician and she brought so much emotion and beauty to the piece. I wish her all the best in her future musical journey.”

He continues: Guy is a unique combination of being a brilliant engineer and mixer and a prolific very talented musician/composer. I was very fortunate to spend time with Guy in his studio in Berlin. His sensitivity to the project and his electronic programming made a wonderful contribution to the composition. His collaboration and friendship made the days working in Berlin such a great experience I would like to thank Emma Ford for her dedication, enthusiasm and guidance on Pacific”

For both von Almen and Sternberg, the collaboration was equally meaningful. Von Almen reflects on the experience of recording the piece, saying: “As a musician, it is always a great privilege to work on a piece together with the composer, and of course I felt even luckier to go through the process of creating something new with an artist like Craig Armstrong. Figuratively speaking, it felt like knitting a silk scarf: using the finest materials and taking the utmost care during the recording, we have realised another beautiful and touching work by Craig, which will bring us and certainly many others great joy. I feel very honoured to have been part of this and to have experienced this warm encounter.”

Sternberg adds: “Diving into Armstrong’s music while working on this record felt like examining a diamond under a microscope, discovering endless beauty within simplicity. Perfection and complexity emerging from simplicity, where every note, tone, noise, and gesture has meaning. I’m deeply grateful to have been part of this process, and for the freedom Craig gave me to express myself through his music, to let our sonic visions merge into one. It’s been both a lesson in music-making and in setting the ego aside, if only for a moment.”

Reflecting Armstrong’s belief in the role of music as a force for empathy and reflection, proceeds from Pacific will be donated to charities working towards peace: Médecins Sans Frontières and the Red Cross.

The limited-edition vinyl release has been pressed on Eco Vinyl at SeaBass Vinyl, a sustainable plant near Edinburgh. The record features striking cover art by Dirk Rudolph, who has designed several of Armstrong’s previous releases.

Liebe, Schmerz, das Tiefgründige, das Alltägliche: nyxy nyx ist für die Träumer und wahren Gläubigen. Tief im Kaninchenbau, gefangen in einer Schlinge, verwischen die zyklischen Riffs und Selbstreferenzen des Projekts die Grenzen zwischen Zeit und Realität und versetzen die Zuhörer in eine Déjà-vu-Falle aus unheimlichen Melodien und nebligen Blicken. Die für ihre Zeitlichkeit bekannte Band aus Philadelphia hat jahrelang an ihrer degenerativen Diskografie gearbeitet. Tracklisten werden geändert, Master ausgetauscht und Songs neu aufgenommen. In vielen Fällen ist eine Veröffentlichung nur für diejenigen zugänglich, die über einen Download oder eine physische Kopie verfügen. Zum ersten Mal überhaupt wird nyxy nyx sich zu einer vertraglich abgesicherten Unendlichkeit verpflichten. ,Cult Classics Vol. 1" erscheint bei Julia's War Records. Brian Reichert, Tim Jordan (Sun Organ), Benjamin Schurr (Luna Honey) und Alex Ha (ex-Knifeplay) werden von Madeline Johnston (Midwife) und Josh Meakim (A Sunny Day in Glasgow) für das erste Studioalbum von nyxy nyx in voller Besetzung unterstützt. Aufgenommen von Dan Angel, ist ,Cult Classics Vol. 1" die härteste Version von nyxy nyx und fängt ihre schlammige und transzendente Live-Energie ein - die perfekte (Wieder-)Einführung für Fans und Neulinge gleichermaßen. nyxy nyx startete 2014 als Performance-Kunstprojekt von Brian Riechert und Drew Saracco. Das Duo spielte Noise- und Underground-Punk-Shows und arbeitete mit vielen Freunden und Gastmusikern zusammen. Home-Aufnahmen, Kassetten und CDs von ,nyxy nyx" wurden von Labels vertrieben, aber die meisten sind DIY: handgemacht, mit Freunden geteilt und in kleinen Bibliotheken zu finden. Bis 2020 stellte nyxy nyx eine Live-Band zusammen, spielte regelmäßig, tourte an der Ostküste und nahm dann ,Cult Classics Vol. 1" auf. Jeder Song auf diesem Album wurde live gespielt, aber keiner zweimal gleich.

Karen Willems is a Belgian drummer/percussionist active in various fields. Started as a drummer in rock and pop bands. With a number of musicians she built up a tradition within improvised music and sound art. Since 2020, with ‘TERRE SOL’ Willems is searching for personal modifications within her play of instruments and objects, with the focus on solo work and compositions.

"When I make music, there’s no plan. I draw my inspiration from everyday life. Small encounters, people, and the greatest source, of course, is nature. There we find all the beauty, all the sounds we need. With my solo work I try to stay far away from my familiar drum set. Only then I can create a special universe. Eccentricity and playfulness go hand in hand with exercises in tension and release, and calls for connection in antisocial times. It's difficult in this world obsessed with productivity and results, and you really have to be crazy to release music these days. So ‘A Fool’s Guide to Reality’ is a fitting title." Karen Willems

All music performed by Karen Willems using citer, casio, fieldrecordings, tambourin, mikado, xylophon, pots, bells, kindergarten instruments, snare, noisebox, crispy shakers, synths, effects...

Moving freely through time and space via experimental DIY recordings since 2009, Joasihno return with their fourth album "Spots".

“Find your spot in the shade,” a truly laid-back and incredibly soft-spoken MC once advised, yet in a world that seems to get shadier every day, it’s probably time to finally get out and face the sun. Southern German experimental pop duo Joasihno – initial solo founder Cico Beck (The Notwist, Aloa Input, Spirit Fest) and drummer/composer Nico Sierig (Instrument, Fehler Kuti) – seem to know exactly when it’s time to shine. Idiosyncratic genre tweakers since day one, they have been operating at their own pace, mostly staying in their own shady corner. Yet, almost a decade after their most recent “Meshes” (an album that came with a whole legion of tiny music robots), it’s high time for them to take over more corners, to reclaim even more spots between lo-fi and sci-fi, retro electronica and contemporary classic. Drawing upon influences as varied as Reich, Riley, and Ryuichi, múm, Meek, and Moondog, while also nodding to other experimental twosomes (e.g. The Books), the duo’s fourth full-length “Spots” is set to arrive via Alien Transistor in late 2025.

Leaving soulless automation and all things artificial to others, Joasihno launch the latest record on “2 Squares” that feel like a peaceful, almost bucolic version of retro space age: lights blink ever so softly as easy-going bass tones point at today’s introspective flight arc. Electronic shapes align and things lift off – with a majestic 8-bit sunrise soon appearing right in front of us. Whereas playful title song “Spots” is a miniature Rube Goldberg kind of device, with quirky plucked strings and glitches setting off more and more contraption layers, “Crackleboom” is uncharted energy, an open landscape, an expanding bonfire that leads to a long-forgotten piano, all dust-covered in some kind of saloon. Space might be only noise to others, here, it’s foreboding screeches (“Dizzle Whistle”) that make room for A-side center piece “Forest Lights”: a steady beat that lures us to a clearance in the woods. Things break and shatter in the distance, but this spot right here is for hypnosis, dancing, sylvan spirits. And yeah, it’s surprisingly hot down here in the undergrowth…

Opening side B with a fun banger that takes the unhinged dancing to the playground – “Characa Orb.” feels like French kids on swings going crazy, a tipsy, tongue-in-cheek electro blow-out between Oizo and Orbis Tertius –, things get even more cinematic throughout the second half. Even the cheapest, lo-fiest gear is sufficient to make “The Slow Hour” glow like true, timeless pop royalty. In fact, the very same pop spirits roam and celebrate freely in the chirpy coves of mesmerizing “Detune Lagoon” – more hand-crafted sci-fi/lo-fi loops you’ll only find after facing the ghosts of Lynch or Sakamoto on those night-time trails under the “Deep Moon”. It’s all DIY spots, spots that leave room to dream or dangle, drape yourself over or dive into. Returning to the leafy bower on a melancholy post rock tip, we eventually learn that “Death Is Real” – and so we’re left with a laterna magica that turns and turns and turns. It’s a beautiful spot where light and shadows keep on dancing, just like they’ve always done, ever since the dawn of this madcap universe.

GATEFOLD DOUBLE VINYL WITH SPOT UV FRONT COVER

Following the skewed-unself-help-brilliance of ‘Sus Dog’ (which marked his first full foray into songs, abetted by Thom Yorke), and its companion piece ‘Cave Dog’, Chris Clark returns to the dancefloor’s simple, but no less affecting pleasures, with ‘Steep Stims’.
“I found it hard to pull away from listening to this record, hard to stop making it, I had to remove myself from the Stims and stop enjoying it at some point. The album feels like nature to me. I love it when electronic music feels more naturalistic than acoustic music, more potent, that’s the devil’s trick, the promise of electronic music.” comments Chris.
“I used an old synth - the Virus on all of the tracks. I used it at Mess in Melbourne - run by my friend Robin Fox - I loved it so much I had to buy one when I got back to the UK, it took a while to find. They’re a bit clunky to program but make some of my most favourite sounds.”
‘Steep Stims’ marks a back-to-basics approach, invoking the early years of gung-ho creativity enforced by limitations in technology at the time. “Most of the tracks on this album capture the spirit of making music on old samplers, which don’t have much memory time”, explains Clark. “It reminds me of making ‘Clarence Park’, my first album, where I would have to finish tunes in the session, as they would be saved on floppy disks and I couldn’t easily go between tracks. This new record is just a few synths and a few choice sounds; the writing is the important thing.”
Made quickly, ‘Steep Stims’ reflects the immediate rave energy of his live show, but that’s not to say it’s basic floor fodder, as it’s rife with personality, synth magic, and knack for melody. Although swift and impressionistically captured rather than laboured over, it’s still formidably deft, with plenty of oddball weirdness lurking beneath the dancefloor.
Soft, orange, scorched, brutal, the opening track ‘Gift and Wound’ captures the classic dance music dread / awe / euphoria combo perfectly, before ‘Infinite Roller’ merges sparkly-minimalism with snarling bass and soft sines, which turn more dense and metallic as it progresses.
The melancholic smoke belch of ‘No Pills U’ gives strong classic vibrations, which is belied by its creation, made in just 20 minutes. “I love working quickly sometimes”, comments Clark. “Inspiration hits, rough and ready. It’s off the cuff but also screams ‘don’t gild the lily with nonsense, keep it simple keep it clean’”. Segueing into its elder brother, the piece becomes bigger and beatier on ‘Janus Modal’, where it permutates for over 7 minutes of fluttering, beatific club majesty.
At ‘18EDO Bailiff’ you inexplicably find yourself at a clearing, things have suddenly got much quieter. You enter a decrepit and eerie old house, and as you move through its unsettling interior, you arrive at ‘Globecore Flats’. A real piano tuned to 18 notes per octave gives the pair of tracks a haunted, olde worlde feel, which promptly gets eaten by a huge tech step tearout monster, birthing a strange but exotic beast.
The white hot ‘Blowtorch Thimble’ is all hooktasm-rave-hyper-amen-energy, whilst acidic flute leaps around like Ian Anderson on pingers throughout the catchily simple jump-up lurch of ‘Civilians’.
“‘In Patient’s Day Out’ is like some sort of Morricone-does-kraut-rock-with-drum-machines, but that’s probably just in my head” says Clark. “I made several versions of this then went with the early mix but cranked through some choice outboard because it just had something.”
Drumless, yet still full of exhilarating-big-trance-drama, ‘Who Booed The Goose’ flashes by in stroboscopic fast forward, then ‘5 Millionth Cave Painting’ gives a palate cleanser, letting “the virus with its delicious broken, luxurious reverb have a moment”, before ‘Negation Loop’ swoops down in all its glory, with Clark’s tweaked vocals leading deconstructed trance breakdowns, tape edits and brutal noisebursts.
An antidote to the bombast of its predecessor is ‘Micro Lyf’, which closes the set on a poignant note, of sorts. Muted staccato gives way to field recordings “that gradually put it in this outside space; alien in a meadow somewhere nameless. It feels like a sinkhole. The record kinda swallows itself up and then is gone”, ends Chris.

LTD EDITION

"Kaidi Tatham maintains one of the most prolific artists from the UK, he's been releasing music for 30+ years and has reached some form of cult status amongst many musicians. Seen as one of the key players in the broken beat movement, he collaborated with everybody from Bugz In The Attic, Dego, IG Culture, Andrew Ashong, to DJ Jazzy Jeff, Patrick Gibin, Volcov and the likes. For this special release he remixed the young Amsterdam-based group RADIOHOP, who are a quartet playing groove-based jazz, with influences from hip-hop, funk, fusion, broken beat & more. In the past 4 years they've made noise all across the country by playing in many venues, at festivals like Super-Sonic Jazz, and their stellar debut album 'All We Do' got really well received in 2024."

Seit etwas mehr als zwanzig Jahren gehören die Schwestern Bianca und Sierra Casady zur musikalischen Avantgarde der experimentellen Popmusik und haben die Liebe, die Härte und die Ekstase ihrer Schwesternschaft in eine der gewagtesten, gefährlichsten und originellsten Musiken verwandelt, die unsere zunehmend hygienisierte Kultur kennt. CocoRosie war ein Projekt, das stets an der musikalischen Spitze stand, zahllose Musiker beeinflusste und zugleich Inspiration und wichtiger Teil der "Queer Culture"-Bewegung und vor allem aber ein Kanal für eine unbändige künstlerische Selbstverwirklichung gewesen ist. "Little Death Wishes" ist so offen und zärtlich wie alles, was sie je geschaffen haben. Die Songs erzählen eine kaleidoskopische Geschichte über die generationsbedingte Härte von Frauen und die zerrütteten Realitäten ihres Lebens, über die prekäre und kostbare Natur des Menschseins, darüber, dass die Liebe Unrecht tut, und über einen letzten Wunsch, ungebrochen zu sein. CocoRosie bringt alles auf den Punkt: Schmerz wird zu Wissen, Schwesternschaft zu Polemik und Kitsch und Klischees werden zu neuen Wahrheiten. Der 8. Longplayer des Duos existiert in seinem eigenen musikalischen Lexikon und ist ein reichhaltiges Sammelsurium an verstaubten Signifikanten der Popkultur, die die Schwestern zu ihrem eigenen Sinn für Zeitlichkeit verdrehen. CocoRosie tragen zur Avantgarde bei, halten sich aber nicht an zeitgenössische Trends und sammeln musikalische Überbleibsel aus anderen Zeiten, die sie zu ihren eigenen barocken, theatralischen Kreationen verarbeiten. Jeder Song auf "Little Death Wishes" fühlt sich transportativ und transformativ an. "CocoRosie ist nun schon so lange der Mittelpunkt unseres Lebens", sagt Bianca. In diesen Jahren wurden die Schwestern infantilisiert und verehrt, fetischisiert und gespiegelt, misogynisiert und verehrt; manchmal absichtlich missverstanden von der Presse, die es nicht geschafft hat, die Gruppe auf eine perverse Laune zu reduzieren. Trotz alledem haben CocoRosie immer wieder die mutigsten und kühnsten Wege beschritten, indem sie die rohesten, unverhülltesten und zärtlichsten Stränge der Menschheit zum Vorschein brachten.

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

TEA, CAKES AND THE (WO)MAN MACHINE

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

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

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

Hailing from Raw Culture, Anna Funk Damage returns with his third release on the Roman label, delivering a record as fierce as it is intimate. Tarantola was born out of a winter suspended between contrasting emotions – melancholy, anger, love, confusion – distilled into a sound that transforms personal fragility into collective energy. There’s no pursuit of perfection here, but rather an urgency running through the veins, taking shape across supersonic punk, wave, ambient and industrial.

Each track is an emotional fragment, a bite that leaves its mark: from the electric tension of Vivere Distaccati to the feverish rush of Trasmissione, from the rawness of Decadente to the hypnotic title track Tarantola, which embodies the beating heart of the album. Side B unfolds into more nocturnal and intimate landscapes, from Chiang Mai to the disenchanted sincerity of Lavoro Troppo, closing with a party that carries the bittersweet taste of reality.

Tarantola is a journey into the chaos of human emotions, an album that doesn’t just narrate but pulls you deep into its sonic labyrinth, giving noise back its vulnerable yet powerful soul.

Lénok’s 'Langue of Tongue' is a descent. An unhinged pinballing down a realm of incomprehension and lunacy, a darkly psychedelic ego-death-spiral into a world of pure, deranged disquiet. It is, and this cannot be emphasised enough, a truly fucked up place. It comes complete with clearly marked borders delineated by its opening and closing tracks '(Entrance' and 'Exit)’. The message is clear: this is less album than zone.

There's no comfort to be found here. It’s like the inner monologue of some insectile, cyborgian abomination, something unfeeling and hostile, something that could only thrive in a mirror world that perverts light and sullies warmth. It's a netherworld: tracks jut out and stab like cold, craggy wastelandscapes, tangled meshworks of alienic transmissions bleed out into deformed knots of gurgling white noise, lacerations of sound roil and heave and claw as if imprisoned within oppressive waveforms.

‘Tongue’ is marked by a kind of wackiness, a demented slapstick that renders its darkness all the more sinister. Voices wail and taunt like schizophrenic spirits trapped between torment and cackling ecstasy. Tracks giggle and skitter as if populated by grinning, snaggletoothed shadows.

‘Langue of Tongue’ is recommended for the curious and advanced listener. This is music for whatever the opposite of escapism is — it’s REAL twisted. But sometimes morbid fascination takes hold. Sometimes you lift the rock, because you can’t help it, and you observe the squirming mess of life it plays host to. What you experience may not be pleasant, but you might just struggle to tear yourself away.

Patami isn't a judo mat, an animal defense association or a kind of sausage. Patami is a concept unique to each individual and, above all, unique to singer Stanislas. Patami is a friend to all children. He's at their service, but he's also their king. For the audience, it's whatever they want it to be, as long as it's comforting! Patami is Astéréotypie's third album, an extraordinary musical adventure featuring post- punk, noise and electro sounds. There are also some lovely melodies. Patami will shake your heart with the myths, memories, concepts and rants of the four star MCs: Claire, Stan, Yohann and Aurélien, the greatest songwriters of the moment (a few guests are also expected)! In short, Patami is like nothing you've ever heard before, and what's more, it's a real comfort. Their previous record, Aucun mec ne ressemble à Brad Pitt dans la Drôme, released in the spring of 2022, was warmly received by the public and achieved great critical success. Since then, Astéréotypie has been playing headline shows and festivals all over France. The band's singularity has left its mark. After 10 years of existence, the collective has finally found its audience.

A decade after its release, A Fragile Geography returns transformed. This limited edition cassette accompanies the AFG10 anniversary reissue, offering an inspired re-envisioning of Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark compositions. Reworks presents distinctive readings of these pieces, with each artist leaving their personal mark on the material. The titles remain unchanged, with the sole exception of “Hiatus,” reborn here as “Ausencia.” Together, these reimaginings extend the emotional cartography of the album into new terrains.

KMRU reframes “Displacement” with expansive, glimmering layers that open into meditative ambient landscapes. Nairobi born and Berlin based, he is known for morphing field recordings into vivid aural experiences, often capturing the texture of footsteps, foliage, and distant city life and weaving them into contemplative soundscapes. In this version he introduces subtle new sounds, including stringlike synths that trace and heighten the piece’s emotional arc. The result invites close listening, offering enveloping tones where the organic and the synthetic gently collide and flow.

Penelope Trappes renders “Reprisal” as a voice-led invocation of the delicate and the intimate. Her wistful vocals bloom with fragile sorrow, rising over shimmering strands of strings to create a sound world at once sacred and shadowed. She is adept at channeling inherited grief into music that is transcendent and otherworldly. The interplay of her voice, the strings, and her use of space and depth draws those qualities into Irisarri’s orbit, imbuing “Reprisal” with the same spiritual weight and clarity that define her most powerful work.

Kevin Richard Martin (a.k.a. The Bug) transforms “Empire Systems” into a cavernous “Iced Mix,” driven by polyrhythmic double bass motifs and sculpted from subterranean pressure and negative space. Known for pushing sound to its physical limits, Martin brings the stark intensity of his dub and noise infused practice into Irisarri’s architecture. The track seethes with harmonic distortion and erupts in white noise rhythms, its brooding low end depth and icy reverberant textures amplifying the tension. Vulnerability and force are set in stark relief, as silences feel as heavy as the bursts of sound themselves. The result is a stark study in atmosphere, restraint and impact, reframed through Martin’s singular lens of sonic mass and low end intensity.

On Side B, Mabe Fratti opens with a cinematic, dreamlike, Lynchian reimagining of “Hiatus” in her native Spanish (“Ausencia”). She threads cello and voice so wondrously that her rendering feels at once hauntingly beautiful and disquieting. Emotionally charged melodies shift in unexpected directions, while her soft, intimate vocals hover above Irisarri’s brooding synth textures. Fratti’s gift for blending experimental and avant pop sensibilities with visceral, emotionally powerful expression shines resplendently here. She gives voice to Irisarri’s reflections on the passage of time and his growing desire to reconnect with his familial roots.

Abul Mogard stretches “Persistence” into a vast drone elegy. A master of patient sound sculpting, Mogard layers evolving waves of analog synths into a dense shroud that radiates its own internal light. Gradual surges of tone and subtle harmonic shifts emphasize the piece’s endurance and inevitability. Irisarri’s original composition, in Mogard's hands, becomes a rumination on time’s unrelenting flow. Melancholy and transcendence coexist in equal measure in this engulfing, cathartic rework.

William Basinski and Gary Thomas Wright close the cycle with a spectral version of “Secretly Wishing for Rain.” Basinski’s field recordings of Reseda rainfall and birdsong, which open and close the rework, add a personal touch and evoke the imagined sound of a grainy film reel flickering to life. The piece suspends Irisarri’s yearning for the Pacific Northwest, lodging it hazily between memory, place and an unreachable dream. It feels like a fading recollection, half forgotten and half felt. A final gesture that dissolves the album into vapor, leaving the listener adrift in its lingering afterglow.

Mastered with great care by Stephan Mathieu and featuring a remixed version of the original artwork by Daniel Castrejón, this edition refracts the language of the original through new prisms. Less a return than a passage, across time, across interpretation, into uncharted emotional realms.