“We know what jazz is when we hear standards or music that is close to the same source, to a recognized pattern. But what is jazz? Here, a starting point. "Blow" showcases an accumulated CITIZEN:KANE techno vocabulary but it quickly tones down the sensation by introducing frequent breaks in the rhythm, as in "Peiote". But even there we are able to "feel" techno by recalling Wolfgang Voigt's M:I:5 and its parallel yet contrasting rhythmic grids. Elsewhere, manifestations of opposite forces: the beat keeps a body firm on the floor, eminently physical but not commanding; and melodies, cosmic threads, suggest ascension as well as a drive towards the within, creating space for feelings and/or rationalization. "The Fence" or "Montreal" stand as good examples. One less evident aspect of beauty in this record is the apparent coldness of the music, almost rigid and devoid of passion, and thus we declare it more true. As the mind performs a synthesis of what was learned after a class, last track "Family" (expressively) gathers impressions of what went before, adding poetry to the moment. "Blow" may be a reference to the most familiar instruments used in jazz but it can also figuratively mean an explosion, an aesthetic liberation, even with (our) knowledge that for now, and theoretically, the artist chose to concentrate on this thing called jazz.”
Isa Gordon and Tony Morris were first brought together through their individual releases on Optimo Music, which established mutual respect within the label’s community. While they had not previously performed live together, they were invited to take part in a fundraiser hosted by Queen’s Park Arena in support of Glasgow NW Foodbank and later for JD Twitch’s end-of-life care. Tony asked Isa to contribute guitar and backing vocals to his set, including a track then called Last Night I Had a Dream. That performance became the seed for their collaboration.
The first phase of fleshing it out, recalls Tony: “Somebody said Isa sang like Shania Twain. That got me thinking about country music and call and response, prompting me to come up with alternative lyrics.” Isa remembers: “I cycled over to Tony’s house with my guitar, and we spoke about what the tune meant. It was about him being wrapped up in dreamland, luxuriating in his subconscious, while my character — impatient and trapped in her own routines — barely had time to remember her own dreams.” Tony continues: “Brilliantly I realised that I could never collaborate with anyone in situ and so I sat in the garden for two hours watching my wife tend to plants. Every now and again I would creep up the stairs and put my ear to the door. I could hear Isa warbling away and so would resume my garden watch. After two hours I went back upstairs to see how she was getting on, only to find that she had written one of the greatest songs I’d ever heard. I still think that.” Tony adds: “My overwhelming sentiment about Wake Up Baby is pride. I can honestly say that I’m more proud of it than anything else I have done. It ticks a whole load of boxes. Isa’s singing in various Scottish modes is unique. The way her electric guitar adorns the dance beat makes it a rock song as well as a dance and a C&W song — truly multi-genre.”
The B-side of the 12” release, Syringe Moustache, is a surreal, darkly playful counterpart to Wake Up Baby. The track was inspired by a dream Tony had: “I was in a shopping mall, in a two-level shoe shop, and my attention was taken by a little girl with a syringe taped beneath her nose like a moustache. She went about her business trying on shoes, confident and wise beyond her years. In the dream, I imagined her as the daughter of cultured, intelligent parents determined to raise her independently. I was struck by my own feelings of inadequacy — I knew I could never have coped with such a contraption myself.” Isa’s take on the meaning of this song somewhat differs: “Tony sent me the tune over Instagram months before I met him, and I was spooked — as far as I knew, he didn’t know anything about me, but the story felt like it was written about me as a little girl, growing up around heroin addiction. The syringe beneath the girl’s nose became a symbol of the inescapable constraints of that environment, literally written on her face, yet something you just have to carry on through. On a buzz from the serendipity, I added a full instrumental backing to this most bizarre of works.”
The result is absurd, unsettling, and strangely empowering, staking out its own surreal, cinematic space. The 12” dance single is a format Tony had long wanted to explore — a tangible artefact to leave for family, a medium that celebrates the physicality of sound and the ritual of listening. It allowed the artists to maximise the format’s potential: a strong, multi-genre A-side, a surreal B-side, and remixes that expanded the record’s sonic world. Glasgow music staples Auntie Flo and 100% Positive Feedback were invited to reinterpret the tracks, bringing their distinctive touch — Auntie Flo transforming the A-side into a luscious, dancefloor-ready meditation, and 100% Positive Feedback twisting Syringe Moustache into absurd, playful shapes with false-start drops and over-the-top vocal editing.
The cover photograph, taken at the University Café by Harrison Reid, captures Isa and Tony embodying the characters they brought to life in the songs — a visual reflection of the record’s narrative and emotional stakes. The Café also holds personal significance: it’s where all of Isa’s meetings with Keith McIvor took place, where she first remembers visiting Glasgow as a child, and a place Tony fondly likes to go to drip egg yolk down his tie and watch the world go by. Together, the 12” format, the remixes, and the artwork create a cohesive, tactile experience, amplifying the duality, theatricality, and emotional breadth of the collaboration.
This official double vinyl is dedicated to Duplé, the historic nightclub that defined enre
generaons of clubbers.
It's a special project: two vinyl records collecng the tracks that made Duplé's history over the
years—the ones you danced to, shouted out, sang along with, and that sll give you goosebumps
on the first listen. An insert with historical notes and flyers recalling the most significant magical
nights is included.
This is not a simple record release, but a collector's item: a piece meculously curated, featuring
tracks that are somemes hard to find, selected specifically to tell the story of the club's soul and
its legendary events. This "Duplé Paura" double vinyl is a tribute to all who experienced its magic, both yesterday and
today.
'in a fugue state' finds pedal-steel guitar maestro Joe Harvey-Whyte collaborating with tape loop sound scientist Paul Cousins on a warped ambient excursion into the subconscious. Originally written and recorded in one night, the eight tracks of hypnotic electro-acoustic music explore the concept of memory and time.
The duo study how we remember and misremember things; forming an imperfect reorganisation of time, events and emotional states. This album exists at a cross- section where loss, confusion, trauma and dissociation meet moments of joy, healing, acceptance and groundlessness
Bringing together the elder statesman of the Zulu guitar Madala Kunene and internationally acclaimed Sibusile Xaba, kwaNTU pulls two generations of South African guitar mastery into a single point of focus. Under-represented on recordings outside of South Africa, Madala Kunene (b. 1951), the ‘King of the Zulu Guitar’, is revered as the greatest living master of the Zulu guitar tradition. Sibusile Xaba, whose collaboration with Mushroom Hour Half Hour reaches back to his first recording in 2017 (Open Letter To Adoniah/Unlearning), has garnered international acclaim for his unique voice and virtuoso guitar stylings, which bring together multiple South African guitar lineages in an original, spiritualised fusion. Collaborating with Mushroom Hour and New Soil for kwaNTU, the two players come together to weave a filigree sonic fabric which reaches down to the heartwood of Zulu guitar music but moves resolutely outward, building on the past to create a deeply rooted statement about present conditions and future travels. kwaNTU – which can be roughly translated ‘the place of the life-spirit’ – is also conclave of teacher and student, as Xaba has been taught by Kunene for the last decade. Meditative, rich and sonically sui generis, kwaNTU finds these two musicians linking up within the inimitable space of sound and spirit that they share through Kunene’s teaching.
The great masters of South African music have not all had equal exposure. For many years the generation of musicians who were exiled during apartheid took centre stage, as the regime made it very difficult for those at home to be heard. More recently, a new cohort of important voices, especially in jazz, has broken through to international consciousness. But for the generation of musicians in between – those who shone like beacons in the most difficult final years of apartheid and immediately afterward – international recognition has been slow in coming.
Madala Kunene, ‘the King of the Zulu Guitar’, is among this number. A revered figure for current generations of South African musicians, Kunene began his recording career in 1990, at the bitter end of apartheid, with a now classic self-titled LP for David Marks’ storied Third Ear imprint. Born in 1951 in Cato Manor, near Durban, he had determined to be a musician from early childhood, and by the time he first entered a recording studio he had already had a long career as a popular performer. His virtuoso absorption and transformation of the venerable Zulu maskanda guitar tradition and his richly spiritualised approach to music immediately marked him out as someone special, and in the years that followed, Kunene cemented his position as one of South Africa’s musical elders. He is without doubt the grand master of the Zulu guitar tradition, but his sound and sensibility ranges far beyond it into varied sonic terrain, and he has collaborated with a wide range of musicians both at home and abroad. Now in his mid-seventies, he remains a shining light for those that are making music in contemporary South Africa.
‘He is really an amazing person,’ says the guitarist Sibusile Xaba, who has been mentored by Kunene for over a decade, and now invites a collaboration with him on kwaNTU. ‘As a mentor, he's really powerful in showing us the way. For us to have this opportunity to make music together and have a project together is really a blessing to me.’
Xaba himself grew up in Newcastle, KwaZulu-Natal, where his mother had been in a band and his father sang in a church choir, and from early childhood Xaba played homemade tin guitars. He only later realised that music was his calling. ‘I just loved music. I was fortunate. My parents loved music. And when it was time for me to leave home and go to study outside Newcastle, I knew that music was what I wanted to do. There was no second option. It was just music.’ Moving to Pretoria to study music formally, Xaba committed himself to his craft, developing a unique style that draws on both US jazz masters such as Wes Montgomery and Jim Hall, and the rich and varied heritage of the South African guitar, from inspirational jazz players such as Allen Kwela and Enoch Mthalane, to the music of the Malombo groups and Dr. Philip Tabane (Xaba has previously collaborated with Dr. Tabane’s late son, Thabang), and the Zulu guitar tradition embodied by Kunene.
‘I was really in love with the jazz guitar, I really admired it, and I was digging a lot in that direction,’ says Xaba, recalling his first encounter with Kunene’s music, over a decade ago. ‘And then one day on my timeline, Kunene popped up, and I was like – “What's this sound?” I was so connected to it. It really touched me deep. I started checking out his records, and then I found out he's from the same region as I am, which is Zululand.’ After Kunene played a show at the Afrikan Freedom Station in Johannesburg, Xaba make contact with him, and visited him at home in Durban. They struck up a friendship, and Xaba became the elder’s student, as Kunene began to pass on his knowledge and his inimitable way of playing.
kwaNTU is a tribute to this relationship and the deep learning that has defined it. The album was recorded in Zululand in the town of Utrecht, at a cultural centre called Kwantu Village, which gives its name to the album. ‘It's such a broad word,’ Xaba says, ‘but the elders teach us that Ntu is basically an energy, almost chi, an energy, a force that all living beings have within them. It's a living energy, so kwaNTU is like, almost the place of this energy.’ The two men sequestered themselves for five days of jamming, improvising and planning, and then the session was recorded in one take over a single night, with Gontse Makhene joining on percussion and backing vocals and Fakazile on vocals. Other voices and overdubs were later added in the studio in Johannesburg.
The result is a rich and meditative recording that finds two generations in a deeply engaged dialogue. Teaching and passing on his knowledge, the elder Kunene has brought Xaba into a space of sound and knowledge that they now share; Xaba’s own practice of deep communion with nature and his dedication to his musical craft make him the perfect interlocutor for Kunene. The result is an album that foregrounds the two musicians engaged at the highest levels of responsive listening, sympathetic unity, and collaborative concentration. Bringing an elder statesman of South African music to an international listening audience for the first time in decades by pairing him with one of South Africa’s most important new voices, kwaNTU is a meeting of generations and a powerful demonstration of musical lineage and continuity.
‘Before music, there is sound,’ Xaba observes, speaking of Kunene’s unique approach to music. ‘And sound is like a common compartment…it's not restricted to particular people or particular geographic places, you know what I mean? It's sound. Everybody can hear it. So when he constructs that sound into music, I think everybody resonates with the energy behind his construction of sound into song. Here at home, we really love him for preserving our history through the guitar, through his stories as well the music, the songs that he writes. We really, really admire him.’
Body Clinic joins us for our next 12” release with four tribal tech-house cuts, recalling the sound of early-2000s Pacha. With E-Talking on Papa Nugs’ label running the festival circuit this summer, he’s already become the talk of the scene—and this EP makes clear why.
Each track is driven by drums at the highest grade—rugged, weighty basslines locking in with sci-fi warped FX, keeping the floor in constant motion. Trippy vocal cuts thread through the grooves, getting deep into our heads and sending minds off into nearby dimensions. And that’s just the a-side.
Flip it over and Bongo Loco comes rolling in—a true cruiser. Built around a huge breakdown of layered bongos, it kicks back in with the kind of chest-rattling low end that have become Body Clinic’s signature. It’s the moment where hands shoot in the air, the rhythm carrying you further into the night. On b2, My Mate Dave shifts gears again—jumping off the old-school tech foundations and landing closer to the progressive sound we know BC for. It’s a peak-time anthem through and through.
Promo downloads have quickly come in from Chris Stussy, Josh Baker, Christopher Ledger, Roza Terenzi, and East End Dubs, marking it as one of the most anticipated releases of 2025.
The begena is a large ten-stringed lyre which is part of the traditional Amharic heritage of Ethiopia. The Amharas, who have long formed the politically and culturally dominant people of Ethiopia, mainly inhabit the central and northern part of the country. In the majority, they follow the monophysite Orthodox Tewahido Church established in the early fourth century AD.
Music plays a very important part in the life of the church. Most of the liturgy is sung and, contrary to secular music, it is accompanied by percussion instruments only. The begena occupies a special place because it is the one melodic instrument exclusively dedicated to the spiritual repertory. Because of its mythical origin, it is highly respected. Tradition holds that the begena was given to king David by God, and brought to Ethiopia by Menelik I, together with the Ark of the Covenant. It has always been the instrument of kings and nobles. Played by pious men and women of letters, it never became widespread. But it never disappeared either, not even under the Derg regime (1974-1991) which had banned the instrument.
Among Amhara string instruments, the begena is the most carefully crafted, especially with regard to the ornately sculpted crossbar. Its ten gut strings are cleaned and twisted several times. The characteristic buzzing timbre equalled by no other Amhara instrument is due to the enzirotch, that is, small bits of leather placed between each string and the bridge. This plays an important part in the sound production by creating a brief contact between the string and the upper rim of the bridge, thus modifying the vibrating properties of the string. In this manner, the spectrum of the sound is considerably enhanced (up to over 10 kHz).
The begena is a very powerful instrument, it keeps the devil thirty steps away, and its presence in the home wards off malicious spirits. Priests and preachers recommend its presence, especially during Lent (Fassika Tsom) when the Orthodox Amharas ponder their sins and repent. Because of its spiritual import, the begena generates intense emotion. According to some musicians, playing the begena brings them into direct contact with God or the Virgin Mary. The religious role of the begena is underscored by the shape of the instrument, each part symbolises an important element of the faith. The crossbar for instance, which reaches across the entire width of the instrument, represents God who is above all things. The belly which "gives birth" to the sound represents the Virgin Mary, and the ten strings recall the Ten Commandments.
Recorded by Stéphanie Weisser in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, March 2002-December 2005.
The begena is a large ten-stringed lyre which is part of the traditional Amharic heritage of Ethiopia. The Amharas, who have long formed the politically and culturally dominant people of Ethiopia, mainly inhabit the central and northern part of the country. In the majority, they follow the monophysite Orthodox Tewahido Church established in the early fourth century AD.
Music plays a very important part in the life of the church. Most of the liturgy is sung and, contrary to secular music, it is accompanied by percussion instruments only. The begena occupies a special place because it is the one melodic instrument exclusively dedicated to the spiritual repertory. Because of its mythical origin, it is highly respected. Tradition holds that the begena was given to king David by God, and brought to Ethiopia by Menelik I, together with the Ark of the Covenant. It has always been the instrument of kings and nobles. Played by pious men and women of letters, it never became widespread. But it never disappeared either, not even under the Derg regime (1974-1991) which had banned the instrument.
Among Amhara string instruments, the begena is the most carefully crafted, especially with regard to the ornately sculpted crossbar. Its ten gut strings are cleaned and twisted several times. The characteristic buzzing timbre equalled by no other Amhara instrument is due to the enzirotch, that is, small bits of leather placed between each string and the bridge. This plays an important part in the sound production by creating a brief contact between the string and the upper rim of the bridge, thus modifying the vibrating properties of the string. In this manner, the spectrum of the sound is considerably enhanced (up to over 10 kHz).
The begena is a very powerful instrument, it keeps the devil thirty steps away, and its presence in the home wards off malicious spirits. Priests and preachers recommend its presence, especially during Lent (Fassika Tsom) when the Orthodox Amharas ponder their sins and repent. Because of its spiritual import, the begena generates intense emotion. According to some musicians, playing the begena brings them into direct contact with God or the Virgin Mary. The religious role of the begena is underscored by the shape of the instrument, each part symbolises an important element of the faith. The crossbar for instance, which reaches across the entire width of the instrument, represents God who is above all things. The belly which "gives birth" to the sound represents the Virgin Mary, and the ten strings recall the Ten Commandments.
Recorded by Stéphanie Weisser in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, March 2002-December 2005.
Acclaimed musician, producer, and multi-instrumentalist Kutiman returns with 'Dreams In Aspamia' - a stunning new 6-track EP of dreamy, instrumental cinematic funk, rich with trip-hop, jazz, and global music textures. Best known for his visionary fusion of groove, psychedelia, and visual art - Kutiman crafts a hypnotic journey here: jazzy guitars, double bass, analogue keys, and otherworldly manipulated vocals flow through lush, panoramic arrangements that recall Khruangbin, El Michels Affair, SAULT, and BADBADNOTGOOD.
This strictly limited one-off pressing comes on deep purple coloured vinyl with a hallucinogenic full-colour sleeve designed by Berlin-based artist Philipp Carbotta. Meticulously mixed by longtime collaborator Obas Nenor, it's a bold yet meditative listen - equally suited for audiophile immersion or chilled late-night sessions.
Originally released following his acclaimed sophomore album, HYBRIDISM finds Ecuadorian producer Nicola Cruz at the height of his exploratory powers. Now reissued on limited editon green vinyl, this expansive EP re-emerges with renewed relevance—blending North African rhythms, ethereal Persian motifs, and vocal fragments that evoke both ancient traditions and imagined worlds. A contemporary take on global exotica, HYBRIDISM is a vital entry in Cruz’s ever-evolving sonic journey.
'Aima’, named after the refrain sung by Igbo girls from Nigeria, creates the illusion that you’ve dusted off a lost LP. The aesthetic details recall expertly produced French exotica from the 70s, an overall feeling of warmth and character rarely pulled off with such panache.
‘Naeku,' in Cruz’s words, is "a sorrowful song in minor tonalities, but with a warrior energy, strength and forward vision: a soul departs, but a new one arrives in the name of Naeku, a maasai child. Not all grief needs to be a suffering; a feeling which I can relate to the place I come from with a Quechua word: Llaquilla - triste, pero feliz (sad, but happy). As always, the 303 adds that heart touching feeling.” If there’s a template for Multi Culti’s ethos, Cruz has synthesized the formula: Masai lamentation filtered through Quechua wisdom with a touch of 303 for the soul.
'Drom Tradisie' is a nostalgic vignette that captures the fantasy of a scenic horizon on a lost beach, a portrait done with the FM domain of synths that somehow associates with tropical imagery.
'Third Eye Dub’ takes things deeper, exploring the fractal realm of concentration, a point where the Oud (played by Nasiri) acts on the pineal gland. This inward journey through the cavernous depths of the subconscious sails on a smooth modular groove that transports the listener across this psychic expanse, a filigree of Persian harmonies (in Shur, to be exact) tracing outlines in the dark.
Finally, 'Kawe’s Dream’ ventures even further into the imaginary spaces of the mind. It is an aural reconstruction of the Tibetan Bardo Thodol, or ‘Book of the Dead’, a sacred text that guides the spirit through the passage out of the body. In Nicola’s words "To paint that depth, I had these Tibetan chants in mind, that I ended up crafting with Ableton's vocoder over a piece of Ayan’s vocals (sung in a made-up language). A few notes, and it gave the gravity I was looking for in the song.” Stuff that only a producer as capable as Cruz could pull off.
Hybridism’s five tracks are sonically diverse, yet all possess an ephemeral quality, a pastoral, transitory feeling that travels through the music - we listen to the sounds pass us by, we might even catch a hook or two, but the feeling is of sand running through our hands, deep, elusive, beautiful.
Trust in 6 was a one-off project by Torsten Stenzel, produced in collaboration with André Fischer (Recall IV, Technoline, Scope) and Lars Janzik (Scrot). Their sole release, “Life in Ecstasy”, came out in 1991 on Techno Drome International, a sub-label of ZYX Records, and earned a spot on the first volume of the legendary Techno Trax compilation series. The track fuses techno and EBM with a dark, driving energy-layering classic trance arpeggios, eerie pizzicato samples, and haunting, hypnotic vocals into a standout piece of early '90s electronic music.
Limited edition of 300 copies on black vinyl and 200 copies on clear vinyl, including both original mixes, the renowned Digital Mix (also known as Razormaid Mix), and a radio edit.
Silver Tears is the new joint venture by Berlin-based gent Luca Venezia and Damian Shilman, respectively of Curses and Skelesys’ fame.
The duo first debuted in 2023 on Next Wave Acid Punx Deux (Chapter 2) compilation delivering one track rich with deep bass lines, crystal clear guitars and captivating mechanical drums. One somehow classic formula enriched by an universal allure that left you hoping for more. And here we are: these charming men have been working hard for the past two years and their first, self-titled full-length album is now ready.
Eight new cuts of elegant electronic beat-driven coldwave with baritone vocals, sharp arpeggios and no lack of slow passages, recalling 90’s shoegaze or moody grunge. A subtle play of juxtaposition of dancing moments and introspective retreats, dancefloor-oriented grooves and caustic precipices, sometimes crowned by the two dueting at vocals. One wide musical cape to cloak all the angles of the Goth subculture and prove how this can still be relevant some many years after it first bursted out.
"Bassland Prophecy" was a collection of Southern California musicians, including Alex Xenophon (Deep Squared), Stuart Breidenstein (formerly of Skylab 2000), Alissa Kueker (vocals), and Maxx Vaxx (Euterpre, Butterfly Garden).
The act nourished and grew the emerging LA scene and was a renegade force in live electronic improvisation. Rather than composing full tracks, Breidenstein stated over email that they built musical "ingredients" on the fly, syncing DOS and hardware sequencers mid-performance. Their unpredictable sets, from illegal raves to makeshift desert parties, resulted in electrifying, unforgettable sonic trips.
Recalling 90s LA, Breidenstein said: “Before the internet, finding a rave was an adventure. You’d get a flyer with a phone number, call it the night of the event, then drive—sometimes 100 miles or more from a map point to the actual party. The scene was raw and underground, built by music obsessives hunting for the freshest sounds.”
Two standout tracks from 1996—“Nine / Deeper” and “Blue and Purple Starship of Trust”—perfectly represent their unique genre-bending concoctions. Against all odds, the recordings survived and have been given new life, remastered and reissued on Bristol-based *Sex Tapes From Mars*. To produce the wizardry, their setup included a Juno 106, Yamaha FB-01, a Roland S330 sampler, and a Sequential Circuits Pro-One mono synth with external MIDI, and some guitar effects pedals.
“Nine / Deeper,” born from one of their many spontaneous studio sessions, became eerily intertwined with recurring appearances of the number 9 and black cats. So much was the frequency of apophenia episodes that paranoia began to take over the artists. Recorded in a makeshift living room studio, the 14-minute excursion traverses genres and tempos, beginning quick and hypnotic, and climaxing chuggy and drenched in adlibbed acid lines, culminating in a surreal and legendary live performance in Hollywood. The piece captures the raw spontaneity of their sets, crafted with vintage gear, cassette tape recordings, and, as always, a DIY ethos. Breidenstein states, “While improvised sessions often failed, when it succeeded, it was definitely a kind of infectious magic the listener would recognize.”
“The Blue and Purple Starship of Trust” is a deeply personal piece, named after when Breidenstein saw a heavenly blue morning glory on a walk around his neighborhood, and emerged from heartbreak and the following deep depression entrenching his life at the time. Recorded in a single take onto cassette tape, blending piano, guitar, and heart-rending vocals into an emotional, dreamlike journey. The track starts with a lush, cascading synth sound, bolstered up by rolling, reverbing downtempo drums. Using Sequential Circuits Pro-One throughout, the rippling synths and off-key piano licks act like pipetted droplets of water, all elements bleeding into each other in some kind of hallucinogenic swelling, reflecting Breidenstein’s fading relationship. The guitar part is a nod to Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine,” and Breidenstein recalls just “bawling as the guitar line was recorded.”
Created in a time of artistic struggle, living in an old school bus, surviving on instant noodles while hauling their gear from venue to venue, and scraping by on gig money, these recordings act as rare artifacts of a movement that thrived on passion and perseverance, standing as a poignant testament to resilience. Though they released a handful of tracks, ranging from deep house to ambient to techno, their true legacy lay in their high-energy, genre-blurring live shows, which are powerfully encapsulated within these recordings and leave a lasting impact on underground electronic music today.
For the latest Klasse Wrecks release, the label combine with Japan's finest festival and events crew Rainbow Disco Club to collaboratively present WRECKSRDC. Overrocket were an electro-pop band from Tokyo that enjoyed a grip of great releases in the early 2000s while signed to Neon Discs and its parent label Aten. During a digging session Luca Lozano discovered the forgotten tracks 'Duralumin' and 'Shadow of the Sun' and immediately set out trying to contact the band's members to arrange a re-release and remix. A few months of patient trying, the connection was finally made and wheels were set in motion. Musically the EP conjures up perfectly the sonics of that time, a grey area between analog convention and the unexplored territories of new digital freedom. Shadow Of The Sun is electro-pop perfection, with breezy vocals and a bouncing beat that sounds like nothing else around...past, present or future. Duralumin is a more dancey collection of blips and beats, one that will make sense in the current return to early 2000s aesthetics. To round out the release and propel it into 2025, KW label bosses take a track each and interpret in their own way. Lozano revisits his electro roots with two remixes of Shadow of the Sun, distorted 808s and growling 101 basslines provide a simple backdrop for the perfect vocals. Mr. Ho takes Duralumin into a more driving and pacey direction, upping the energy and excitement with fast percussion and a huge side chained breakdown that recalls the unbridled rawness of the early 2000s, when everything was just a little bit more fun. Keeping within the confines of Japan and in an effort to bring everything full circle, the label enlisted Japanese artist Gonno to master the tracks for an updated modern sound. The tracks themselves being mastered a few miles from where they were originally penned over 20 years ago.
When SW. AKA, Stefan Wust, first established SUED in 2011, their compelling, cosmic and anonymous material struck a rare chord, emanating far beyond the freeform Berlin underground in which it was written. Unknowingly, Los Angelean Oliver Bristow had
established a parallel musical universe, founding the hyper-specific label Acid Test, inviting pioneering artists such as Donato Dozzy, Tin Man and Pepe Bradock to indulge in glorious interpretations of 303 control. Without compromise, these were records that quietly
reinvigorated electronic music.
Some years later, a new label, SWOB, unites Wust and Bristow in a very different landscape. And while it would be easy to transform the purity and integrity of this special alchemy into something like nostalgia, yearning for an alternative culture before
influencers and against algorithms, SWOB endeavours to find inspiration in arguably tougher truths.
“By the mid-90s, the techno scene had already reached a breaking point”, recalls Wust.
“Today, the scene is so highly professionalized that it barely resembles what was once called the "underground. But "underground" was never more than the simple reality that music circulated on cassettes among friends or that dubplates were played at illegal
parties... The consequence of today’s professionalization is the death of the original movement.”
Still, no one can kill an idea. Here, inspired by the “Outside Tekno” or “Outkast Techno” that emerged to subvert even back in the day, SWOB are proud to introduce the tekkNOthing trilogy, a new project from SW. beginning on cassette and culminating later
on vinyl. Some years in development, tekkNOthing first began to take shape during the 2020 global pandemic, when ‘the underground’ quickly began to mean something radically different once again.
“I noticed how everything was accelerating while simultaneously spinning in circles – existing in a kind of creative limbo on a global scale”, recalls Wust. “And that’s where true freedom lies: for artists – in any sense – to consciously engage with this necessity. In
other words, irrationality or nonsense can eventually generate meaning.” While hardly capitulating to the contemporary hammering of techno’s most recent developments, tekkNOthing’s first chapter quickly establishes a frenetic pace; tracks like ‘nuclearFALLoutX’ and ‘paslolESmess’ interlock and unfold at a tempo removed from that typically associated with SW. while ‘euroBSS’ and ‘viscousHEAT’ successfully experiment with a more guttural palette, veering far into a rejuvenating and previously uncharted leftfield.
A resolutely human endeavour, the music of SW. is nonetheless written and recorded in the looming shadow of AI, whose free-form adoption of pop culture, hip-hop and techno reminds Wust of “when photography emerged in the 19th century... painting was no
longer bound to naturalism. Similarly, music today is no longer bound to fixed standards – through AI, it can become truly free.”
If not in competition, than taking inspiration from this landscape of new opportunity, tekkNOthing diversifies further with eight unpredictable tracks across part II, taking in stuttering machine-funk on ‘crAMPDUNK’, a freeform organ jam via ‘sonicENdo’ and the
inexplicable piston-percussive, post-punk exotica heard on ‘poorTENOOR#a#01’ DJs with dual cassette decks skills might even find function in the more overtly floor-focused ‘DU ¨NEhowSE#1takeÄ’ or ‘lookLOOK’.
The times may have changed, but the promise remains simple; more music, more freedom.
The record captures an expansive performance in Poitiers, France in November 2023. First working together in an unpredictable trio with minimalist legend and eccentric extraordinaire Charlemagne Palestine, Ambarchi and Thielemans quickly established a remarkable musical chemistry that led to an ongoing series of duo concerts, including the performance documented on their LP Double Consciousness (Matière Mémorie, 2023).
Kind Regards finds the duo refining their shared language while continuing to take risks, allowing the music’s gravitational pull to lead them from meditative calm to unexpectedly expressive passages of melodic invention and rhythmic drive.
Recorded in sparkling fidelity and carefully mixed by Ambarchi’s longtime collaborator Joe Talia, the LP contains a single unbroken performance, stretching out for over 45 minutes. Guitar and drums weave together into a symbiotic whole that nevertheless affords us ample opportunity to marvel at the highly personal approaches these two musicians have developed to their chosen instruments through decades of diverse collaboration and prolific performance. The set begins with Thielemans’ hypnotic tom patterns, around which Ambarchi’s wavering, shimmering guitar tones—achieved with the help of the rotating speaker of a Leslie cabinet—flurry and swirl. Thielemans’ drums play subtle tricks with time and perception, adding and dropping beats within repeated patterns to create an effect at once rhythmically insistent and liquified. Growing at first into a rapidly pulsing texture of brushed drums and flickering harmonics, the music builds momentum into an irregular groove over which Ambarchi’s guitar is transformed into haunting, monumental electric organ chords, strikingly recalling the Wurlitzer work of Alice Coltrane, before settling into a section of gentle portamento melody embedded into the tactile clicks and clangs of Thielemans’ percussion.
When Thielemans adopts a more traditional jazz approach to the kit in some of the set’s second half, the results are stunning, demonstrating a feel for shifting accents and sensibility to the touch of the stick on the drum or cymbal that recalls greats like Jack DeJohnette or Billy Hart (one of Thielemans’ mentors). And when Ambarchi turns up the heat, he does so in an unexpected and delightful way, letting loose a swarm of jittering delayed tones straight out of Henry Kaiser’s classic It’s a Wonderful Life, with a more active use of the guitar’s fretboard than his usual approach to the instrument allows. As the performance draws to a close after a climactic episode of distorted harmonic groans and crashing cymbals that manages to be at once thunderous and carefully attuned to detail, it is clearer than ever that, for these two serial collaborators, this is a very special pairing.
Kind Regards shows us the kind of magic that can happen when two masters who have dedicated decades to reimagining their instruments simply begin to play, following the music wherever it goes.
A Strangely Isolated Place presents a long-lost collaboration between Polish artists Olga Wojciechowska and Tomasz Walkiewicz as Monoparts—a partnership formed many years ago that resulted in an album once destined to remain unreleased.
Olga Wojciechowska, known for her modern-classical masterpieces such as Infinite Distances (2019) and Unseen Traces (2020), as well as her 2022 collaboration with Scanner, breaks all known expectations with Soothsayers. In a dramatic departure, Olga unveils a new and unexpected side, debuting her haunting vocals—a delicate, spellbinding performance that recalls the golden era of trip-hop, and comparisons to the sounds pioneered by Tricky, Massive Attack, and Martina Topley-Bird.
With Tomasz adding layers of depth through intricate beats and electronics, Olga’s voice becomes the emotional core of the record, conjuring an intimate and nostalgic atmosphere.
"This album is like becoming one with the earth itself—feeling the rawness of the wood, tasting the earth in your mouth, and sensing the presence of ancient spirits. The music carries a deep, primal energy, like being part of the forest, with creatures watching you from the shadows." - Olga Wojciechowska
To complete the journey, ASC lends his signature touch with a stunning drum’n’bass reinterpretation, amplifying the album’s nostalgic essence. Soothsayers emerges as a spellbinding ode to times gone by, in more ways than one.
Featuring artwork by Moon Patrol, with mastering and lacquer by Andreas LUPO Lubich.
‘Belgium is too small for pianist Alex Koo’ – De Tijd
‘Stunningly original’ – Downbeat Jazz Magazine
‘Fabulous technique, sounding downright genius at times.’ – London Jazz News
‘When listening, Keith Jarrett’s name came to mind several times. Not because Koo’s playing is similar to that of the American master, but because it is of the same exceptionally high level.’ – Trouw
‘Koo’s compositions and playing are absolutely world class.’ – Written in Music
The son of a Belgian missionary sent to Japan in the seventies and a Japanese peace activist, pianist and composer Alex Koo refuses to be boxed into any traditional category. As the renowned German Jazzthetik magazine put it, "Alex Koo defies categorization."
With ten uniquely personal tracks, Blame It on My Chromosomes is more than a musical statement; it is a form of self-therapy. "The only way not to spiral into depression as a jazz musician nowadays is to vent and lose yourself in the music," Koo shares. "Music needs a purpose beyond self-promotion. For me, it's about accepting who I am and letting go of anything else."
Featuring celebrated trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusire on two tracks, Blame It on My Chromosomes highlights Koo's fearless versatility. One of these tracks, "Jonass," is dedicated to Koo's childhood friend who tragically passed away, adding a deeply personal layer to the album. "When we were kids, we would skate and do stupid things with shopping carts, inspired by Jackass," Koo recalls. "That's why we called Jonas 'Jonass'-he had the biggest smile you could imagine, his laugh was contagious, yet he also was the most reckless one among us."
Koo, praised as "stunningly original" (Downbeat Jazz Magazine), is known for creating music that transcends genre boundaries, blending jazz, indie, contemporary classical and film music with innovative freedom. A native of rural West-Flanders, Belgium, he began his musical journey as a classical piano prodigy at the age of five. In his teens, he developed a passion for jazz and improvisation, earning praise from jazz legends such as Kurt Elling, Kenny Werner, and Brad Mehldau. Koo has even been described as "of the same rare high level as Keith Jarrett" (Trouw). His 2019 album, Appleblueseagreen, featuring Mark Turner and Ralph Alessi, was included in Downbeat's Best Albums of the Year.
Alongside Koo, Blame It on My Chromosomes features his longstanding trio, whose fearless interplay brings the album's narrative to life. The trio, with Koo on piano, Dré Pallemaerts on drums, and Lennart Heyndels on bass, represents the very best of the Belgian jazz scene. Their intuitive chemistry and artistry are the driving force behind the album's emotive power, with special guest Ambrose Akinmusire adding a transcendent layer on two standout tracks.
Matthew Dear's Black City Can't Be Found On Any Map. It's A Composite, An Imaginary Metropolis Peopled By Desperate Cases, Lovelorn Souls, And Amoral Motives. Like Most Literary Gothams, Black City Is A Place To Love And Hate, As Seedy As A Nightclub's Back Room And As Seductive As The Promise Of Power. Matthew Dear, The Musician, May Live In New York City, But The Matthew Dear Of Black City Inhabits A Sound-world Unlike Any Other: A Monument To The Shadowy Side Of Urban Life That Bumps And Creaks, Shudders And Wakes Up Screaming In The Middle Of The Night. Black City Is Matthew Dear's Third Album On Ghostly International, And It's His Darkest And Most Engrossing Work To Date.
From The rst Notes Of Album Opener "honey", It's Clear That The Love-obsessed Matthew Dear Of 2007's Asa Breed Has Given Way To A More Existentially Paranoid Entity, As Creeping Tempos Dominate, Cavernous Atmospherics Envelop The Listener, And Strange Distortions Crackle On The Horizon. In Black City, Nothing Is At It Seems: Leadoff Single "little People (black City)" Is A Nine-and-a-half Minute Disco odyssey, subverting its gleaming electronic lead with eerily giddy backing vocals and cryptic, ominous lyrics ("a frozen wasted heart / has died", "love me like a clown"); "You Put a Smell on Me" is a sordid sex romp set to hysterically chattering percussion and a serrated synth line that will set your teeth on edge; "More Surgery" at rst recalls the barely-there Krautrock of Harmonia in its burbling minimalism, until Dear's chanted chorus of "Alter genetics / to make my body glow / I need more surgery / there's so much more to know" sends the track hurtling into a dystopian future.
And yet, for all the foreboding moods on Black City, it's the album's sweeter moments that illustrate Matthew Dear's growing maturity as a songwriter. "Slowdance" is a futuristic lullaby in which Dear articulates a lover's helplessness ("I can't be the one to tell you everything's wrong") over breathy, Arthur Russell-esque cello swishes; the album-closing "Gem" is an achingly simple, reverb-drenched piano ballad that ends with a long, slow fade. Even in Matthew Dear's Black City, there is hope.
We’re teaming up with ELUCID and Fat Possum for a limited edition of 300 copies of a Rush Hour black ice coloured edition.
E L U C I D, one half of the illustrious duo Armand Hammer, is here with the full-length follow-up to 'I Told Bessie'. Further experiments in the sonic, expanding on the 'live' side of music paired with the embracing of chaos. Something you haven't heard, or not so for a very long time. E L U C I D is here to reveal the bleakness of reality.
''There is never time in the future in which we will work out our salvation. The challenge is in the moment; the time is always now.''
James Baldwin
A raw, crackling urgency runs through rapper-producer ELUCID’s new album REVELATOR like an underground power line. There is no space here for sepia-toned reminiscences or indulgent self-mythologizing. Intellectual rabbit holes have been filled in with concrete and rebar ; there is nowhere to hide and no off ramp from the audio Autobahn that ELUCID has fashioned—a renegade Robert Moses with gold fronts, bulldozing the homes of the powerful and the complicit. REVELATOR brims with the energy of now, with a refusal to look away. Carpe diem in a murder one mask.
Born in Jamaica, Queens, ELUCID has been on the cutting edge of New York’s underground scene since the mid-2000s. From the beginning, he has defied both convention and expectation. He ran with Okayplayer darlings Tanya Morgan, but his own music eschewed their throwback charm for glitchy noise experiments and bass-swamped culture jamming. His 2016 debut studio project Save Yourself (re-released in a deluxe edition last year) announced him in earnest. But in recent years, his Armand Hammer releases with partner-in-crime billy woods have received significant attention and acclaim. Serving as a followup to his last solo album—2022’s comparatively balmy I Told Bessie—ELUCID hoped to “re-distinguish” himself with REVELATOR, setting himself apart amidst the increasing attention around the music he and his friends are making together.
For ELUCID, this meant setting bold new challenges for himself. One of these was diving further into live instrumentation than ever before—”getting my Quincy Jones on,” as he puts it. The testing ground for this approach was Armand Hammer’s most recent project, 2023’s We Buy Diabetic Test Strips’ Möbius strip soundscapes, warmed with instrumental flourishes and skin-shedding beat progressions. With REVELATOR, though, ELUCID strove to create an atmosphere of chaos, embracing experimental electronics and atonal sample bursts. He worked on much of the album with co-producer Jon Nellen, who comes from a background in avant-garde and Indian classical music. “I wanted to get as freaky as I could at this moment. I wanted people to hear things, maybe for the first time, or in a way they haven’t for a long while,” the rapper explains.
ELUCID arrived at the studio with a collection of noise sources: non-referential samples, glitches and noises. Together he, Nellen, and others created forms out of them and, as ELUCID recalls, “just started playing drums with it.” Their fried, distorted sound was directly inspired by Miles Davis at his most uncompromising—specifically, the tone-clustering funk track “Rated X” from his 1974 double LP Get Up With It. At times, the pairing of rap with avant-fusion sounds also brings Emergency! from The Tony Williams Lifetime to mind, perhaps in an alternate timeline where the late drummer was listening to Ice Cube’s AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted.
“The World is Dog,” REVELATOR’s lead single, functions as the album’s aesthetic thesis statement. Like the Davis track, the textures are punishing, the tonality is in free-fall, and the driving breakbeat of a groove cuts in and out unceremoniously. Avant-jazz bassist Luke Stewart, who appears throughout the record, holds the whole thing together just long enough for ELUCID to tightwalk over the beat. This tension is exactly where REVELATOR sets itself apart; in a time of drumless loops, and safe soul samples, this is a high-wire act with no safety net. Similarly, the song announces the themes of the album within just a few phrases, evoking the way societies accept and adjust to new levels of debasement and brutality while suffocating under the weight of history: “Can’t clock the kill, all a mystery/Forced past will eating everyone eventually/The world is dog.”
Many of the songs on REVELATOR grapple obliquely with dissolution and disenfranchisement in America and across the world—the grim realities of our domestic sociopolitical climate and our involvement in foreign conflicts. “Much of my artistic and political sensibility comes from the Black arts movement here in New York,” ELUCID explains. “Recognizing the interconnected global struggles against oppression, artists and thinkers created works and actions in solidarity with freedom movements in South Africa and Palestine.” ELUCID cites intellectuals like Amiri Baraka, Kwame Nkrumah, Audre Lorde, Sonia Sanchez, and Nikki Giovanni among his heroes. (One track on the album is specifically inspired by Lorde’s work, “SKP,” citing the scholar’s paper “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic As Power.”) Songs like REVELATOR’s insistent closer “ZIGZAGZIG,” find ELUCID applying up-to-the-minute messaging, making explicit reference to the conflict in Gaza: “Feed a war machine…from river to sea, in lieu of peace.”
Despite ELUCID’s preference for cacophonous system overload here, the rapper also provides moments of respite. Recorded at The Alchemist’s Los Angeles studio, the laid-back, wheezing “INSTANT TRANSFER” is a collaboration with billy woods, which crystallizes their shared sense of creative determination. “With much momentum behind us and even more on the horizon, I knew a purpose, and that every step was ordered to that purpose,” ELUCID said of the experience. Meanwhile, the jittery “HUSHPUPPIES” is a playful anomaly on the track list, providing a snapshot of ELUCID watching his grandparents in the kitchen while preparing for Friday night fish fry dinners.
“Love still rules over on this side,” ELUCID says. ”I’m raising a family. We are making meaning and finding joy in the midst of all the fucked up-ness of everything around us because the alternative is cowardice and slow death. We remain rooted. We celebrate our people and our wins. Struggle is necessary.”
“IKEBANA” is one of ELUCID’s strongest statements of purpose on the record, blending the record’s heaviest themes with its most hopeful sentiments. supported by a shoutalong refrain and an urgent prog-funk groove. Breaking away from images of dissolution and crumbling societal systems that populate REVELATOR, ELUCID notes that the only way to navigate life’s bleakest landscapes is to cling to love and believe in those around you—to look forward toward something better that may or may not be possible. For the rapper, one of the album’s most trenchant lines comes during a centerpiece of a beat drop: “Being alive/I must look up.”
“The lyric ‘being alive I must look up’ is important especially in the context of this album. Much of the album imagery is harsh and reflects the actual doom some of us experience. But still I/we exist,” ELUCID explains.
Every artist is, in one way or another, the product of their time, bound by life’s leaden gravity to operate within the space of that which is already known. But there are some who are able to shake free of these ties, to shape the culture as it unfolds, to make the present their own.
Revelation, as a concept, points to the scales falling from people’s eyes—something that has been hiding in plain sight becoming clear. “The revelator relates to things that have been talked about, things that have been forecasted,” ELUCID adds. “And now they’re really here, and everyone sees it. And there’s no escaping.” REVELATOR plays out with the unmitigated power of those storms, laying waste to any genre conventions in pursuit of a certain physicality. Here, ELUCID develops a wholly distinctive musical language to explore our fractured modernity.
REVELATOR's packaging was designed by longtime Armand Hammer / Backwoodz art director, Alexander Richter.
Ten years after his first full-length effort ‘Man Is Deaf’ landed him firmly in the runnings for DJ Mag’s album of the year, prodigal son Michael Anthony Wright AKA Brassica returns to Civil Music with a deeply accomplished, painstakingly whittled LP of hydraulic electro slickness, rich synthscapes, and hooky, peak-time tearjerkers for the most discerning front-left lifers. ‘Tribeless Gathering’ is a barnstorming testament to Brassica’s stylistic and timbral deftness, touching down in the elusive epicentre of the club/home listening venn diagram with ease.
From the elastic, neon acid pointillism of opener ‘Hop Kweng’ to the mardy, miasmic plod of closing chugger ‘Changa Hill’, Brassica seamlessly segues between avenues of influence, his notoriously omnivorous musical knowledge roadmapping each turn. Raised on a diet of everything from early rave standards to metal, and schooled in avant garde sonics as a student of sound design at LCC, Brassica does a peerless job of sublimating his countless influences into a record of refined, heterogeneous, and most crucially, catchy, club moods.
Less spartan than his more recent oeuvre on Feel My Bicep, and less baroque than his technicolour experiments in postmodern synth pop with vocalist Stuart Warwick, Tribeless Gathering represents Brassica’s triumphant return to the main room, replete with rushy hooks primed for the planet’s finest soundsystems, and passages of heads-down tension bound to draw listeners right to the edge of their seats. Overall it is a concise and refined testament to Wright’s command of spectral sonics and effortless ability to pressurise a dancefloor. It is no surprise that he has also worked as a prolific mastering engineer, tuning music from a plethora of dance disciplines for maximum club impact. This work extends to his own projects (including this one), cementing them as rare expressions of complete artistry from studio to turntable.
As we delve deeper into the record, we are ushered through a series of accomplished and varied club moods, each channelling a unique cocktail of influences, but retaining a warm, ebullient analogue sensibility unique to Brassica’s work. This playful scope of influence calls to mind James T Cotton or Machinedrum’s experiments in dance music form, but Wright manages it all under one roof, wrangling everything from sashaying wub-laden two step to snarling Dillinja-esque FM damage into something inherently his.
Choice cut ‘Change Yourself’ layers an almost Cerrone-like piano refrain over radiant surges of saturated bass, dubby, strobing chords and a jagged, driving break, building to a jaw-clenching apex of dancefloor elation, while the rude, playful half-step of ‘Elevation’ breaks down the vintage speed garage formula into linear fragments, utilising a tight palette of resonant bass slugs, infectious synth leads and Papua New Guinea-style vocal strobes. The aptly named ‘Hold Tight’ fuses heart-in-mouth UK ‘ardkore pads with glissando acid disturbance and surgical snare fills in a formula which recalls the ethereal grit of Nubian Mindz’ 00s experiments in big-smoke break science, while the questing melodic arcs and arpeggiated squarewaves of ‘Pinball Marinara’ could easily have soundtracked an 80s sci-fi epic, beset with sparkling, bare-bones drum programming and hazy beds of sub sediment.
With ‘Tribeless Gathering’, Brassica both irreverently fuses and pays homage to the many unique and weird permutations of UK dance music. The short lived gathering of junglists, ravers and house hotsteppas of a similar name may have long since dissipated, along with the tribes themselves, but across these 11 tracks, he lays a blueprint for a new sound of togetherness.
Glasgow based Seated Records return with more 1980s Scottish Post-Punk / New Wave material. In this 8-track mini compilation the label introduces the work of Stirling band 22 Beaches, offering a deep dive into music recorded between 1980-1984 - the majority of which has never seen the light of day!
22 Beaches formed in Stirling in the late 1970s as an evolution of the short lived group ‘Alone at Last’ - drummer Fred Parson’s and guitarist Stephen Hunter being the two who spanned the divide. Out of the six members of 22 Beaches, many were school friends, and the rest naturally fell together. The band toured extensively and played at a truly diverse set of venues across the UK: from a local swimming pool boiler room, to small nightclubs and university parties, to several fundraisers for the miners strike. Maybe most notably of all, drummer Fred Parsons described playing at what he calls “the Grangemouth International”, organised by local promoter Brian Guthrie and which featured an all-star lineup of 22 Beaches, The Exploited and the first incarnation of The Cocteau Twins. A coach was hired to ship the audience to Grangemouth from Stirling, the cost of which was included in the ticket. The gig then paused halfway through for a 'help yourself' buffet. Young promoters take heed. This is how it's done!
Over the course of the 80s the band released music on three different, and now sought after, various artists compilation cassettes. “What Day Is It?” and “Sadie When She Died” were released on a compilation of local Stirling artists 'The A.N.K.L.E File'. The track from which the current record takes its namesake - “Dust” - was initially released on a compilation-tape for the fanzine 'Another Spark'. And ‘‘Zoo” (also featured on this record) was first released on Glasgow label Pleasantly Surprised via compilation, 'An Hour Of Eloquent Sounds', where 22 Beaches rubbed shoulders with early music from Scottish names Primal Scream, Cocteau Twins, The Wake and Sunset Gun. Unfortunately, 22 Beaches never met the same level of commercial success as these others and decided to retire the project in 1984 - leaving their recordings and demos to gather dust (hehe)…until now!
This compilation, “Dust: recordings 1980-1984” follows the band's journey and the changes in their sound over the years. It moves from the raw, punk energy of early DIY recordings through to the A Certain Ratio style Balearica of their later pieces. The record's opener and title track “Dust” is perhaps the most shining example of the latter. Characterised by the plenitude of sonic space in the mix, “Dust” has an almost dub sensibility that is communicated through centrality of Parsons’ drums, McChord’s percussion, and Fildes’ Bass while the harmonising vocals of Sharkey and McGregor chant over the top to give the track its distinctive psychedelic edge. This is an atmosphere only exacerbated by the lofi quality of the recording which sits the vocals in the same aural realm as much 1960s psych-folk. On “Cartoon Boy”, the band strips things down further. A droning bass line persists through the tape fuzz and is accompanied by the sounds of a sole looping guitar chord sequence and McGregor and Sharkey’s vocals - respectively and carefully dancing around one another before harmonising in the most beautiful way. The result is a haunting and abstract Marine Girls style heartbreaker. ‘That Girl’ again delivers a dub adjacent rhythm section similar to that of “Dust”. However, on this instance crisp guitar chords, a distant, phased organ and blue-eyed soul vocal delivery, produce a track that could easily have been a lost Orange Juice recording from their sessions with Dennis Bovel. On “Somebody Got It Wrong” and “One Of Us” the band employ a more macro approach where a jangling guitar with an almost highlife-influenced tone, vocal ad-libs and syncopated percussion give the music a Talking Heads-esque swagger.
Taken together these tracks illustrate a clear trajectory in the band's sound, moving from from the high energy no-wave quality of early recordings towards a more dub influenced, and stripped-back sound - a sonic trajectory followed by so many bands of the time, not least those emerging from the diaspora of Manchester’s Factory Records.
On “Breathing’’ we hear the beginning of this transition, with the strong influence of the oddball NYC disco styles of Was (Not Was) and ZE records. All of this is meshed together with the residual punk rock energy of 1980s UK. This combination is employed to excellent effect with the addition of the distinctly Scottish (and what the band confirmed to me to be spontaneous) vocal delivery of: “Do you love me? Do you want me?” “Aye!” “Do you love me? Do you need me?” “Naw!”.
On the record’s closing tracks, “Zoo” and “Talent Show”, we hear early examples of the band’s work, playing with their rawest all-in-one-take live energy where Hunter’s spiralling guitar riffs and McGregor's distorted vocal exclamations lead the charge. The band recalls that these initial-forays did not always translate so well into multitrack recording and overdubbing: “the deconstruction took away some of the band's natural feel”. On “Talent Show” the record ends with Sharkey delivering an almost unintelligible spoken word section over the top of the track, making for one final, disorientating, almost manic slice of post-punk.
These tracks from 1980-1984 chart the progress of a unique contribution to the world of Scottish Post-Punk and New Wave, encapsulating not only the musical trajectory of 22 Beaches but also echoing the broader sonic landscape of 1980s UK, a testament to the adaptability and creativity of the UK’s underground music of the time.
Sleep Now Forever is the second and final album released by Sorrow, the post-Strawberry Switchblade group fronted by singer Rose McDowall. Originally released in 1999 and long since deleted it is a cornucopia of pastoral, elegiac folk music, swirling atmospherics, hymnal compositions and above it all the alternating towering and fragile vocal performances of McDowall. Recorded in the late 90s with fellow band member and co-songwriter Robert Lee, Sleep Now Forever is the definitive statement by the now defunct group and Rose McDowall’s most complete long-form work to date.
Released through the group’s own Piski Disk Records, Sleep Now Forever was distributed by World Serpent which struggled through the early 2000s with financial woes, eventually folding due to bankruptcy in 2004. Due to the company’s troubles, Sleep Now Forever was never distributed widely and was a victim of the company’s failure. Released on CD only, original copies are now rare and only traded on second hand channels. Remastered by Mikey Young for a limited vinyl release, Sleep Now Forever will be released on April 20th on double vinyl format, with one side an exclusive etching by Glasgow artist Holly Allan.
Despite its rarity, Sleep Now Forever enjoys a firm cult following. The album’s textures are expansive, lush, deliciously detailed and celestial. Recorded in home study Velvet Hole by Rose McDowall and then-husband Robert Lee, the album enlists an array of players from the underground Neo-folk / industrial scene: Nigel McKernaghan (Uilleann pipes, Whistles), Susan Franknel (Bassoon), John Contreras (Cello) and Lawrence Frankel (Oboe, Cor Anglais). The eleven songs here revolve around McDowall’s instantly recognisable voice. Brought up singing in the Catholic Church, McDowall’s vocals are impeccable and angelic, particularly on tracks like Turn Off The Light where her experiences with religion are canted over soaring oboe and guitar backing. By far the most evolved and realised version of Sorrow’s vision, it feels somewhat criminal that music this beautiful could be lost to time until now.
McDowall’s lyrics throughout Sleep Now Forever deal frankly with mental health, depression, altered states, death and redemption. Wave upon wave of harmony drench each song, McDowal’s vocal multi-tracked and imperious. Opener Soldier benefits from Robert Lee’s use of the studio as instrument, summoning forth a lilting group performance of sparkling guitar and percussion that recalls the Velvet Underground. Mikey Love’s master treats the compositions to brand new frequency dynamics and space. Harmonium and string drones form the counter to McDowall’s vocal on Love Dies, a slow, lurching lament that feels transcendent. On Haunting, the arrangement is orchestral and aching, bleeding into Fear Becomes You, with chord and harmony structure that recalls the baroque sixties pop of West Coast Pop Experimental Art Band or the 60s psychedelic folk movement. A towering, beautiful statement, this elegy for times lost and moonlit-illumination is finally resurfacing from the darkness.
It’s True What They Say is the debut EP from Edinburgh-based, husband-and-wife duo Sarah/Shaun (pronounced simply Sarah Shaun), aka Sarah and Shaun McLachlan (pronounced “McLochlin”).
“Sarah and I both have a love for nostalgia,” explains Shaun. “We watched that amazing old 80’s Sci-Fi, (John) Carpenter movie, Starman, a few months back. Myself and my brother David used to watch it all the time. We must have been, roughly, 5-7 at the time. I remember loving the movie but the end, you know, with the beautiful, atmospheric, synth ending, I love that particular moment the most - best part of the movie, you know, when he goes home… It’s heartbreaking but stunning, all the same. It’s the music that moves you most… It did when I was 5 and it still does to this day. It must have had some form of a (much deeper) impact on me.”
The duo narrates stories across themes of love, hope, family, friends, dreams and sadness - the good that comes with the bad in everyday life, not just on a personal scale but within a community as well.
“Starbed is the first song I have ever written and just came out of the blue really, with Shaun playing a melody and me singing along,” says Sarah. “It’s simple and just about two people in love. Love songs are always the best songs, after all… Music has been a big part of my life from a young age. I was unwillingly dragged to piano and violin lessons, which I’m thankful for now! I’d say the first band I really became obsessed with growing up were the Beatles, and on the back of that a lot of 60s music and fashion. From then on, I had a love for music.”
“Shaun definitely opened my ears to a lot of sounds and got me thinking about soundtracks and all the noises that can be made,” she goes on. “We love just spending time experimenting in the house with instruments, pedals etc and Ali is a real magician to work with, too…”
The recordings took place over the summers of 2022 and 2023, with fellow Delta Mainline member Ali Chisholm (aka Jaguar Eyes) plus long-term friend and collaborator Gavin King. Further collaboration then came via the ‘net from the (international) likes of Chris Dixie Darley (Father John Misty), Darren Coghill (Neon Waltz) and Daniel Land (The Modern Painters), among others (see a full list of credits below).
Both Sarah and Shaun have a love for uber-soundtrack producers such as Hanz Zimmer, Max Richter, Cliff Martinez plus live acts such as Beach House, Spiritualized, M83, Suicide, Moby and OMD (to name a few). Shaun also credits the work of Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein (from Survive) on the Stranger Things score… “Even a moment in a movie, whether it be just 30 seconds during a particular scene, it grips you,” he says. But there’s something much deeper at play as well. “Music is a healer,” he goes on, “and I write from my own perspective but more so for others. Once I've done my bit, it doesn't belong to me any longer. It belongs to whoever wants it or needs it.”
The result is a cinematic, synth-wavey, dream poppy and downright beguilingly beautiful body of work. And they’re just getting started…
REVIEWS/RADIO/FEEDBACK:
“Starbed is folky, flavoured by pedal steel, cello, and brass. Dust Tears, in stark contrast, is a mini synth-pop rave epic. Part Bicep. Part Human League. Keep Your Eyes Closed summons a mood that’s romantic, but also dark and potentially doomed – like David Lynch’s Twin Peaks meets Cliff Martinez’s Drive score. My pick though is It’s True What They Say, whose interwoven jangle and picking recalls New Order’s more introspective moments (Love Vigilantes, Love Less… ). Drums crashing, cathartic. Guitar raising dramatic arcs. Its chorus a rush, like a reprise of Pains Of Being Pure Of Heart’s ‘Higher Than The Stars’.” BAN BAN TON TON
"Dust Tears sees them sharing vocal duties over a synth foundation reminiscent of Moby’s Go - Artist Of The Week” THE SCOTSMAN
"Woozy pop" NEMONE (Mary Anne Hobbs Morning Show, BBC 6Music)
"Nice one, very David Lynch meets Euro dream pop" YOUTH (Killing Joke, Paul McCartney, U2, The Orb, Spiritualized etc)
"Music sounds killer! Real emotion” DAVID HOLMES
"I’m enjoying it” TIM BRINKHURST aka LONDON (IKLAN, Young Fathers, Callum Easter)
“Oh, this is lovely!” SEAN JOHNSTON (A Love From Outer Space)
"It’s totally my cup of tea with milk and biscuit" BRENT RADEMAKER (Beachwood Sparks/GospelBeach)
"Beautiful, ecstatic electronica! Short and to the point" KEVIN BALES (Spiritualized, Julian Cope, Soulsavers, BE)
"Makes me wanna sit in the sun and sip an Arnold Palmer" CHRIS DIXIE DARLEY (Father John Misty)
“Really beautiful - Cocteau Twins / Spiritualized vibes but has its own thing going on, too - worth checking out!” JULIAN CORRIE (Franz Ferdinand, Miaoux Miaoux)
‘Sounded nice on a sunny day, makes me think of Twin Peaks, nice moods’ EAMON HAMILTON (Sea Power)
"Dealing in nostalgia, no bad thing at all, great to play that (Dust Tears) for you” RODDY HART (BBC Radio Scotland)
“I'll give the vocal tracks a spin before the release." VIC GALLOWAY (BBC Radio Scotland)
"Rather good!" IAIN ANDERSON (BBC Radio Scotland)
CREDITS:
Lyrics, Guitars, Keys, Synths, Drums, Drum Programming, Percussion, Mandolin, Glockenspiel: Shaun McLachlan
Lyrics, Vocals, Keys by Sarah McLachlan
Guitars, Synths, String Arrangements, Drum Programming, Engineering: Jaguar Eyes Percussion/Drums/Effects, Fire Extinguisher: Darren Coghill (Neon Waltz)
Guitars by Daniel Land
Slide Guitar by Chris Dixie Darley (Father John Misty)
Brass by Bruce Michie
Keys, pre-production & engineering on “It’s true what they say”: Gavin King
All produced by Jaguar Eyes and Shaun McLachlan and then mixed at Glasgow’s Chem19 Studios by David McCaulay (From Scotland With Love, Rick Redbeard, BBC TV’s Attenborough and The Mammoth Graveyard score).
Artwork: Jamie Walman (Fourteen Admirals)
MORE INFO:
Although Shaun released a pair of solo singles (When We Dance and Give Your Love To Me) during Lockdown, he will be better known to many via his work as the multi-instrumentalist in Edinburgh band Delta Mainline. With two albums released to date, Oh! Enlightened and Bel Avenir, both rapturously received by fans and critics alike, Delta Mainline have developed an international, cult following. Oh Enlightened (2013) achieved widespread critical acclaim on release, earning the band comparisons to Arcade Fire and Echo & The Bunnymen, while 2019’s Bel Avenir pulled in references to The Flaming Lips, Pink Floyd, David Bowie and krautrock. A third DM album is currently being mixed and due for release later this year…
Featuring music from a lost tape of devotional keyboard jams, field recordings of migrating birds, mysterious bells, meditative noise and crooked new beat/EBM, made god-knows-when and subsequently discovered in a Thessaloniki charity shop years later. It now somehow finds its way to vinyl, newly mastered by Rashad Becker, and sounding like a lost Hype Williams x Muslimgauze madness.
Originally discovered in a musty charity shop by Live Adult Entertainment, and issued in minuscule numbers on CD in ’21, Christian Love Forum’s raverential debut ‘Naked Light’ documents the fraternal post-church jams of siblings, Scott, Kiro and N•X, plus their mate Steve, who would regularly channel the light and pain of Sunday mass sermons into their ecclesiastic crud.
As previously heard on their blink ’n miss ‘Unconditional Love’ tape, the trio express their higher purpose thru ribboning microtonal keyboard jams that sound like Gurdjieff with a Casio and a knackered drum machine after too much sacramental wine. They hit the strangest, most affective seam of religious cinematic epic soundtracks, gnarled noise and clandestine Belgian new beat that seriously pushes our buttons, sounding quite unlike anything in the contemporary sphere, but eerily also echoing sentiments explored on record by James Leyland Kirby or Bryn Jones.
Now reshuffled and clad in custom artwork, ‘Naked Light’ is unveiled to believers and skeptics as a definitive article of faith. The lord works in mysterious ways within, manifest in stages of sun-bleached post-church field recordings, whirligig melodies, blown-out bouzouki and choral tape howls and a Béla Tarr soundtrack-like campanology on the A-side, before letting their passions flow in ‘Wicked City (Parts I-IV)’; a spellbinding side-long collage of slurred synths, neo-noir hardbeat rhythms and speaking-in-tongues vox recalling V/Vm’s new beat apocrypha as much as bits from Hype Williams’ hypnagogic ‘One Nation’, thee dustiest gooches of Dirk Desaever’s archive, or even aspects of Rat Heart at his cruddiest.
‘Naked Light’ rarely fails to induce uncontrolled eye movement in susceptible skulls, destined to become an occult hit with lapsed churchgoers, new beat fiends and anyone missing the enigma and ineffable flavour of ‘00s underground noise tapes in this auspicious year of AD2023.
(Produced, Arranged and Conducted by Claus Ogerman)
Not long after the dawn of her career, as a teenager in Rio de Janeiro, Joyce was declared “one of the greatest singers” by Antonio Carlos Jobim. Yet despite reputable accolades and the fact that she has since recorded over thirty acclaimed albums, Joyce never quite achieved the international recognition of the likes of Jobim, João Gilberto and Sergio Mendes, all of whom became global stars after releasing with major labels in the US.
There was a moment when it seemed she might be on the cusp of an international breakthrough. While living in New York, Joyce was approached by the great German producer Claus Ogerman. Ogerman had already played a pivotal role in the development and popularisation of Brazilian music in the 1960s, recording with some of the all-time greats like Jobim and João Gilberto, as well as North American idols like Frank Sinatra, Billie Holiday and Bill Evans.
"I met him in New York City, in 1977”, recalls Joyce. “I was living and playing there, and João Palma, Brazilian drummer who used to play with Jobim, introduced me to Claus. We had an audition, he liked what we were doing and decided to produce an album with us.”
Featuring fellow Brazilian musicians Mauricio Maestro (who wrote/co-wrote four of the songs), Nana Vasconcelos and Tutty Moreno, and some of the most in-demand stateside players including Michael Brecker, Joe Farrell and Buster Williams, the recordings for Natureza took place at Columbia Studios and Ogerman produced the album, provided the arrangements and conducted the orchestra.
But mysteriously, Natureza was never released, and what should have been Joyce’s big moment never happened. As Joyce remembers, “I returned home, but Claus and I remained in contact, by letters and phone calls. He was very enthusiastic about the album and tried to hook me up with Michael Franks. He wanted me to go back to NYC in order to re-record the vocals in English with new lyrics, which I actually wasn’t too happy about. But then I got pregnant with my third child and could not leave Brazil. And little by little our contact became rare, until I lost track of him completely. And that was it. I never heard from him again."
While Claus was known to be something of an elusive character, the album’s disappearance might also have been a result of timing. The Brazilian craze was coming to an end, making way for disco and new wave at the end of the seventies, and Ogerman struggled to find a major label interested in a new Brazilian sensation. Additionally, as Joyce mentions, it wasn’t quite finished. Ogerman wanted to add finishing touches to the mix and to record alternative English lyrics for the US and international markets - a critical artistic difference between Joyce and Ogerman.
As the military dictatorship’s grip on Brazil began to subside in the 1980s, Joyce had a handful of hits in her home county, including a tribute to her daughters ‘Clareana’, and the iconic ‘Feminina’ - an intergenerational conversation between mother and daughter about what it means to be a woman. But already a feminist pioneer, these successes were hard fought. Joyce had caused controversy as a nineteen-year-old when she became the first in Brazil to sing from the first-person feminine perspective, and the institutional sexism she faced was worsened by the dictatorship who would often censor her music. Even once the Junta was out of the way, Joyce found herself up against the male-dominated major record companies in Brazil, who sought to dictate her career and sexualise her image, before dropping her for refusing to play along.
A few years after the success of her albums Feminina and Agua E Luz in Brazil, Joyce’s music began to find its way to the UK, Europe and Japan, and “Feminina” and “Aldeia de Ogum” became classics on the underground jazz-dance scenes of the mid to late-eighties and early-nineties.
The full-length version of “Feminina” from the Natureza sessions was first heard on a Brazilian Jazz compilation in 1999 and “Descompassadamente” was licensed for a CD compiling the work of Claus Ogerman in 2002. Following these, word began to get out about an unreleased Joyce album with Claus Ogerman and the legend of Natureza grew.
Forty-five years since it was recorded, Natureza finally sees the light of day, as Joyce intended: with her own Portuguese lyrics and vocals. Featuring the fabled 11-minute version of ‘Feminina’, as well as the never before heard ‘Coração Sonhador’ composed and performed by Mauricio Maestro, Natureza’s release is a landmark in Brazilian music history and represents a triumphant, if overdue victory for Joyce as an outspoken female artist who has consistently refused to bow to patriarchal pressure.
***Disclaimer! While “Feminina” and “Descompassadamente'' were mixed by legendary engineer Al Schmitt and mastered from the original master tapes, the remaining five tracks are unmixed. Due to significant deterioration of the master-tapes, the best audio source for these tracks was an unmixed tape copy Joyce had kept of the recordings. The best care has been taken in the restoration and mastering of this release, but the sound quality may differ from other releases on Far Out Recordings. We advise listening to sound clips before buying where possible.
This almost lost treasure from 1993 was heavily supported by Sven Väth during his Omen times and was released by the label Ongaku which was run by Ata and Heiko M/S/O. It was produced by the Frankfurt based techno mentors Kay Praag and Jörn Elling Wuttke (Alter Ego, Sensorama) and celebrates its 30 year anniversary. „What is soul?“ is one of those classics which has not been played to death and comes along with brand new interpretations by no one else than Joris Voorn and Joseph Ashworth. Now we recall what soul really is…
The debut album from Samuel Coates, AKA Setaoc Mass, crystallises the expansive, left-field vision that's been brewing in his techno-focused discography. Now, downtempo, drum & bass and electro-influenced soundscapes come through strong, as the Manchester-born, Berlin-residing artist combines a decade of dance floor experience and a lifetime of wide-ranging music tastes. The album's 14 tracks transcend the dance with rhythmic and tonal adventure. The urgency of Coates' techno records remains, though now suspended in an unbound space that switches between unpredictable body music and eyes closed moments of escape. Timeless melodies recall the golden era of UK electronica, while ultra-modern production drives the record's microscopic details home. A lovingly crafted collection of the tracks that have been kept for when the time is right. It's the sound of Samuel Coates, then Setaoc Mass - vulnerable but visceral music that demands your full attention.
Having crested the west coast modular-ambient wave in just a few releases - including 2018's Sharing Waves on the influential LA experimental imprint Leaving Records - Sean Hellfritsch has swapped the mossy analog synth improvisations of his prior output for refined melodic arrangements dressed in sprightly dawn-of-digital textures. Big Earth Energy plumbs the depths of Hellfritsch's multimedia mind and naturalist heart, spinning an impressionistic narrative world off of cultural touchstones like the PC game MYST, and the work of Studio Ghibli composer Joe Hisaishi. Inspired by the aforementioned, and guided by Hellfritsch's experience as an animator and filmmaker, Big Earth Energy is the soundtrack to a hypothetical video game with a pointedly ecological premise, and a twist of psychedelic charm. In Hellfritsch's imagined virtual journey, the player assumes the perspective of a treefrog sixty-five-million years ago, hopping epochs with each new level, forming a comprehensive picture of the massive changes the planet has gone through over the eons. The ultimate goal of the game is not to amass resources, defeat enemies, or gain power, but to fully witness the unfolding of one of the biggest systems of energy imaginable - or as the album's creator puts it - "to explore the incomprehensibly vast energetic expression and mystery that is Earth." Big Earth Energy is steeped in exploratory RPG intrigue, possibility, and contemplation, lovingly overlaid with Miyazaki-an sentiments and aesthetics. The through-composed, organic, meandering synthesis heard on previous Cool Maritime albums has been fully replaced by meticulous polygonal arrangements that recall the computerized sheen of late 80s work by composers like Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Yoichiro Yoshikawa - using true-to-period gear no less. Even given its referentiality, Big Earth Energy comes off as forward-facing where so much reminiscent music remains fixed to a bygone moment in pop culture. Hellfritsch has created a musical world where the endless verdancy of the biosphere finds its parallel in the golden age of early 1990s video games, and late 80s Japanese environmental music, all while pointing to a hopeful planetary and artistic future that vindicates the motives of all of these muses.
Son of Chi returns to Astral Industries, alongside Spanish artist Clara Brea, for the collaborative release of AI-29. A product of fate, chance experiments, but most of all, sensitive artistry - ’The Wetland Remixes’ exists as a confluence of two kindred musical spirits, a wayfaring epic that draws together a rich archive of ecological field recordings, live instrumentation and higher inspirations.
Ahead of Hanyo’s concert at Calma (Madrid) at the end of 2019, the curators organised a special dinner and arranged the meeting of Clara and Hanyo. As Hanyo recalls,“It was like stereochemistry. There was an instant match and understanding, and basically we decided in a split second to exchange recordings and to collaborate on future live and studio experiments.”
The auspicious meeting of the two ignited a remote exchange of materials and ideas, as the world descended into a series of pandemic-related lockdowns. The first of said recordings included the stems of Clara’s ‘Wetland Project’ - a site-specific audiovisual project originally produced for Eufonic Festival (Spain), using field recordings from the Ebro Delta nature reserve (one of the most threatened regions of climate change on the Iberian peninsula).
From this initial impetus, Hanyo began working on the first sketches of the album back in Rotterdam, Netherlands. Just like their meeting in Madrid, the project developed naturally and spontaneously with extraordinary ease. Later, Hanyo started adding field recordings from the Magic Cave and Wetlands of the ‘Kallikatsou’ (Patmos, Greece) as well as organic and acoustic overdubs, featuring bass, drums, percussion, guitars, oud, piano, hammond organ, wurlitzer, flutes, bells, and mouth harp.
In the distance, the sound of birds peak through the effervescent wash of the wetland soundscapes. The pass of running water flows deeper into a land full of secrets never told. On the strike of dusk, the silhouettes of shapely trunks and foliage melt slowly into the impenetrable darkness. As darkness passes, light emerges, with exquisite moments of tranquility that seemingly emerge from nothingness.
Beneath the shimmering veneer of textures, wildlife and melodies, one may hear the deeper references of ’The Wetland Remixes’. With credit to Clara’s input, for Hanyo the album process became a kind of refuge, and ultimately inspired the return to the core of Abstract Sound - what the Sufis call“Saut-i Sarmad.”Such references allude to the spiritual quality embedded in the music - the autonomous process of self-expression, the great mystery. Hanyo: “An ambience like this cannot be created by routine. There is no blueprint. The music has to find you. It’s like a blessing if it happens. You should not interfere, just observe and be impressed...”
Deep, luscious mind trips as per the classic Chi sound, ‘The Wetland Remixes’ beautifully correlates the interconnecting dots of geography, ecology, and mythology’s forgotten lore.
Baby Buddha is David Javelosa and musical partner Charles Hornaday playing instruments and providing their own whacked-out vocals. Baby Buddha really was less of a band than a project; a side project in fact, for some members of another group, Los Microwaves. Baby Buddha would eventually record and release an album, 1981's provocatively-titled Music for Teenage Sex on Robbie Fields' L.A.-based Posh Boy label.
Happily, the project's guiding creative light, David Javelosa has recently seen to a vinyl reissue of the now-40-year-old record, mystifyingly retitled Music for Teenage Sects. Definitely among the stranger releases of the new wave era, Music for Teenage Sex/Sects could perhaps only have been created when and where it was made. But on the occasion of its 40th anniversary, the music sounds as weirdly wonderful as ever. "We Are Not" sounds like Human League stuck in a car with The Residents. And their cover of "All Shook Up" sounds like a musical kin to those inscrutable eyeball guys too; it wouldn't be out of place on Meet the Residents. "Little Things" is a house-of-mirrors, scary track, with spoken-word vocals by Los Microwaves' Meg Brazill and label head Fields.
The album cover is slightly different as well: it displays a bedroom scene like the original LP, but with the young female model absent. The new release (on Javelosa's own Hyperspace Communications label) is pressed on beautiful translucent blue vinyl and comes in a gatefold sleeve with a lively collage of photos, buttons, gig posters. Limited to 500 copies.This playfully titled release features David Javelosa (on synth and vocals) along with Meg Brazill (on bass and vocals) plus drummer Todd "Rosa" Rosencrans. Side One features five studio tracks, none of which were included on the band's 1981 Posh Boy LP, Life After Breakfast. Three of these tracks were recorded in '82; there's no information regarding the provenance of the other two songs. The records' second side collects five live recordings, capturing Los Microwaves onstage in New York City (The Peppermint Lounge) and Boston as well as at San Francisco's own I-Beam, a venue that often played host to the band. Those tracks date form roughly the same ear, 1980-83. Sonically the songs variously recall Blondie, Flying Lizards, Gang of Four and a far less dour Human League. Importantly, the band rocks, even when it's employing a spare drum kit, solid but elemental bass, and monophonic analog synthesizers. The stripped down aesthetics of the group – necessitated by its minimalist instrumental approach – are nonetheless thrilling. Even if you weren't there in 1980, this'll take you back.
Morrice is no less than a pioneer of Portuguese techno, churning out high-octane bangers and rave-tinged rollers alike from his hometown of Porto since the mid 90s. Lucky for us he didn't slow down, and his fresh offerings are as enticing as ever - we got our hands on some of the finest crop of Morrice's characteristically deranged, sonic techno and 'Back on Tracks' was born. One can hear the realness of a legend-worthy path in dance music in every tough beat and in every bass line twist and turn: the opener 'Dirty Smack' is a raw, no-frills mutant banger that will throw even the most bashful raver into a frenzy, reminding us all why we miss dancing together so much. 'Stress Will Kill You' is a tense, paranoid techno roller featuring a super effective lead over an economic but super banging technoid beat&bass. 'Synth Lies' is another trip recalling Midwest movements and exuberant composers like Poindexter. On the flip, you'll find the soulful depths of a warm 'Doctor' as well as the wonderfully Detroitian-via-Douro dream of 'Acorda', all silky pads and stabs. The record closes with a 'Dirty Smack' remix by Paraíso regular Violet who infuses the original with broken rhythms and percussive highlights.
After a two year hiatus, DJ Spinna and Kai Alce return to BBE Music with the 5th instalment of their 7” vinyl series ‘Foundations’, this time showcasing Ralphi Rosario &Xaviera Gold’s undisputed club classic: ‘You Used To Hold Me’. With global interest in ‘45s on the rise, ‘Foundations’ aims to fill those frustrating gaps in all our collections by releasing specially crafted edits of classic house tracks on 7” vinyl for the very first time.
The youngest member chosen for Chicago’s ‘Hot Mix 5’ on WBMX back in 1981, Ralphi Rosario is nothing less than House Music royalty, and 1987 smash ‘You Used To Hold Me’ is surely his most enduring hit. Featuring fellow WBMX DJ and vocalist Xaviera Gold, the song has seen several cover versions, remixes and reissues over the years, but has surprisingly never before appeared on ’45. Spinna and Alce have chosen to create special edits of the ’87 ‘Riviera’ version and the ‘(You Used To Beat Me Black and Blue) Bonus Beats’ for this double-sided slice of Dance Music history.
“This is the blueprint to vocal House music and how it should be delivered” says Kai Alce, “and to have the opportunity to present it on 7" for the first time with Ralphi's blessing is overwhelmingly gratifying!”
“You Used To Hold Me seems like one of those anthemic jams that you pretty much heard everywhere- it was massive” recalls DJ Spinna. “I remember hearing it at the Paradise Garage in 1987, but it may have already been a hit on NY radio by that time. It’s one of those classic vocal tracks that impacted the House world as hard as Ten City ‘Devotion’ and ‘Move Your Body’ by Marshall Jefferson. The Bonus Beats on the 12” was a great tool for the DJ. You often heard it used in blends with other tracks.”
Otis Stacks, three syllables. A name and a first name that recall a mythical singer as much as the Memphis music label that got him to it's days of glory. A name that evokes him in particular and soul music in general. Behind a name that sounds familiar are Elias Wallace and Justmike, two men united to become one: Otis Stacks. In truth, the optimized version of a work started long ago, when Justmike was producing the Danish hip-hop sound of Dafuniks and decided to get in touch with Elias after hearing his voice on a friend's tune. He first wanted him to lay his voice on a
chorus, then a verse, and ended letting him take over the lyrics of 'All I Want', the song that would later bring Dafuniks on air and around Europe. After traveling miles and miles across the ocean and the seas separating California from Denmark, Elias undeniably became a member of the group. As gigs went on, stages after stages, Justmike got inspired by Elias's voice and presence. Thus, the idea of a duo collaboration between the two men geminated and grew in his mind. As the evidence of their getting along, 'Fashion Drunk' became the first tune to
infiltrate Nova and FIP radio playlists, as its music video reached 8 million views. This now obvious complicity as extended in the form of an album, also called Fashion Drunk, released by Underdogs Records. With this French stopover, the line between California and Denmark is now completed. The result is an artistic fusion in which Justmike has plugged his instruments to the machines he uses to compose, letting Elias in charge of the
lyrics and singing. Here, the soul music is printed as a guideline in an organic and digital composite matter. In an ethereal and aerial production that perches its arrangements in the air of the mix or buries them in its bases, letting electro music spread on a groove punched with black and white keys. Each element intervenes with discretion to let Elias stories be related with elegance. Frustrated, disappointed or aborted love stories.
Compiled onto one vinyl album for the first time, Landlocked (Numbers, 2026) presents Hallucinator’s 1999 debut album originally released under Mark Ernestus and Moritz von Oswald’s label Chain Reaction. Writing much surrounding the culture of what would be later considered ‘Dub Techno’ and its’ primary distribution center, Hard Wax, leads one down roads of shifting primary sources and decades old overheard smoke break recollections. Maybe brevity primes the listener to the paralinguistic to approach the sound on its terms; focusing on how things are uttered and not what.
This theory will remain unconfirmed. Hallucinator original press release left us with three or so gestures to consider over the years since:
“A new act on CHAIN REACTION”s distinct productional thesis. HALLUCINATOR are 3 people from he UK/London and this their first release ever- that’s all what the artists want to let us know…. This record is dedidacted to the memory of Stephen Lawrence!”
The first gesture is one of personnel. Since ’99, we’ve gotten to learn a bit more about the artists behind the Hallucinator project. All London-based, all writers, composers, and sound-designers— Anna Piva, Edward George, Trevor Mathison. These three seem to flow between parameters as aesthetic tactic and tacit structure to the work itself. For example, other collaborative shapes have come from this lineup including Flow Motion (Piva, George and Mathison) as well as the now defunct Black Audio Film Collective of which George and Mathison are founding members.
The second gesture is in the second line of the previous press release, “distinct productional thesis.” Much of Landlocked’s affect and sequencing seems to suggest an emotional study of entropy at the level of sediment. Rhythms play with space and capacity through polyvalence. The production chose subtractive vertigo, often switching and bringing back in elements that vanished from the track 6 minutes ago. Dubbing out so much of a track, one begins to associate sound akin to memories held in the experience of running your hand across a concrete block as a child. Felt (re)memberance in lieu of narrative tale. Using textures that flicker between colour and percussion, Hallucinator’s 12-tracker of loudspeaker perception music might be a mediation on the psychic wake of the Cold War. Intermittent strata of ambience and groove convects an active margin rifting event underneath a scorched geology of power in Western Europe. Again, this is all grapevine hearsay.
But it’s silence that voices the third gesture. The album’s sparse application of the written word touches on the ennui paradox of being landlocked on an island. Stuck. Trapped in the psychosis of occidental hypercentricism. A looping silence of Black British tragedy: “to the memory of Stephen Lawrence”. 18 year-old Lawrence was stabbed to death at a bus stop in southeast London by six white men in 1993. The rift of grief and implicit reiteration of modern subordination left by this hate act went legally silent for almost two decades until Lawrence’s killers were ultimately sentenced to virtually life in jail in 2012. Only six years removed at the time of Hallucinator’s initial invocation of rememory, the mind-numbing accretion of what Black Studies Professor Denise Ferreira da Silva might call “unpayable debt”, finds demonic ground across Landlocked, forming an aural sense of what continues to be refused.
The album ventures through spaces of overactive non-happenings: ‘Red Angel’’s factory floor dub flashes between smokestack and jungle visions, or the halfway mark’s stilted breath of ‘Dusk’ lending its mood to the sort of sedated dreams built from daily life under colony rule for instance. That linked rhythm links us back to our linked fates across Black and Brown folk is real, thus the syncopated signals through this work behave on the level of transnational radiotelegraphy, sounding out its windswept tension of a body negotiating a meat-grinder schema of linear production and wage for others to know that unspeakable thing can be broadcast in every drum tongue.
As the silence continues to reverb, we return to the sort of meaning-making that cannot be told but felt. Soothing to some, disturbing to others. Landlocked, a Rorschach test for a crumbled empire.
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After the acclaimed Bar Mediterraneo, Massimo Di Lena and Lucio Aquilina return with People Of The Moon, expanding their sound into a space of creative freedom. The “People of the Moon” are not fictional, but a dimension within us all: a deeply personal yet universal force, an alternative mindset that emerges when freed from social constraints.
Under moonlight, the album explores anxieties and aspirations through groove and rhythm, expressed in Neapolitan, Arabic, English, Spanish, and Portuguese. It moves fluidly from Afro-Cuban influences in “Celavì” to Anatolian textures in “Ma Tu Che Bbuò”, blending highlife guitars with Nu Genea’s signature mandolins-new rhythms filtered through an Italian lens.
The first single “Sciallà” (2025) introduced this direction: dance as catharsis, not escape. The title track reflects a quiet resilience-persistent rather than triumphant. “Onenon”, featuring Tom Misch, channels Mediterranean brit-funk, while “Acelera”, with María José Llergo, evokes a flamenco-tinged pursuit of the unattainable.
“Puleza” recalls Nuova Napoli with driving energy and vintage synths, while “Shway Shway”, sung by Celinatique, captures the album’s orbital flow-measured, rich, and rhythmically complex, echoing afrobeat explorations with Tony Allen.
Melody remains central, as in “Carè”. Across ten tracks, falling, flying, and dancing merge in a suspended groove. Gabriel Prado’s “Ondas Do Mar” embodies this pull: a cyclical motion, like the tides—irresistible, transformative, and alive within us.
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Long-time collaborators Winter McQuinn (Sunfruits, Beefheart & McQuinn, jade imagine) and Acacia Pip (PINCH POINTS, Slush) return with Disassociating On The Travelator, the beautifully understated second EP from one of Melbourne/Naarm's most compelling songwriting partnerships. Released by Australia's Third Eye Stimuli Records, the vinyl edition arrives as a special double EP alongside the duo's 2024 debut EP, Recently I've Been Missing The Colour Green—bringing both releases together on vinyl for the very first time. Recorded at the legendary Bakehouse Studios with acclaimed songwriter and producer Liam "Snowy" Halliwell, the four-track collection expands on the warm indie folk, jangling guitar pop and folk-emo leanings of the duo's acclaimed 2024 debut, Recently I've Been Missing The Colour Green. Recorded live, the EP captures the pair's instinctive chemistry while embracing a richer, more spacious studio sound. Across four intimate songs, McQuinn and Pip reflect on the quiet complexities of contemporary life—trying to make sense of changing relationships, the passing of time, self-doubt and finding happiness in everyday moments. Built around shimmering guitars, warm acoustic textures and effortlessly melodic songwriting, Disassociating On The Travelator recalls artists such as Andy Shauf, Courtney Barnett, Elliott Smith, Kurt Vile and Bonny Doon, while retaining a voice that feels entirely their own. Featuring the lead single "Exactly The Same", a bittersweet Melbourne winter anthem about embracing the path that has brought you to where you are today, the EP further cements the duo's gift for pairing emotionally resonant lyrics with quietly irresistible melodies. It's a thoughtful, timeless collection that rewards repeated listening, revealing new emotional depth with every spin.
Long-time collaborators Winter McQuinn (Sunfruits, Beefheart & McQuinn, jade imagine) and Acacia Pip (PINCH POINTS, Slush) return with Disassociating On The Travelator, the beautifully understated second EP from one of Melbourne/Naarm's most compelling songwriting partnerships. Released by Australia's Third Eye Stimuli Records, the vinyl edition arrives as a special double EP alongside the duo's 2024 debut EP, Recently I've Been Missing The Colour Green—bringing both releases together on vinyl for the very first time. Recorded at the legendary Bakehouse Studios with acclaimed songwriter and producer Liam "Snowy" Halliwell, the four-track collection expands on the warm indie folk, jangling guitar pop and folk-emo leanings of the duo's acclaimed 2024 debut, Recently I've Been Missing The Colour Green. Recorded live, the EP captures the pair's instinctive chemistry while embracing a richer, more spacious studio sound. Across four intimate songs, McQuinn and Pip reflect on the quiet complexities of contemporary life—trying to make sense of changing relationships, the passing of time, self-doubt and finding happiness in everyday moments. Built around shimmering guitars, warm acoustic textures and effortlessly melodic songwriting, Disassociating On The Travelator recalls artists such as Andy Shauf, Courtney Barnett, Elliott Smith, Kurt Vile and Bonny Doon, while retaining a voice that feels entirely their own. Featuring the lead single "Exactly The Same", a bittersweet Melbourne winter anthem about embracing the path that has brought you to where you are today, the EP further cements the duo's gift for pairing emotionally resonant lyrics with quietly irresistible melodies. It's a thoughtful, timeless collection that rewards repeated listening, revealing new emotional depth with every spin.
Ricardo Villalobos runs wild on Mohammad Reza Mortazavi’s Persian tombak hand drum actions, expanding a 4 min kernel of inspiration into 24 minutes of mesmerising polyrhythmic traction. From an original ‘Swamp’’ piece that practically recalls Ricardo’s style of slinky minimal techno sorcery to begin with, the Chilean-German maverick derives a more driving tract of rough hewn rhythmic grit bound to hypnotise ‘floors for the duration. Accentuating the undulating bass and dialling up the volume whilst retaining the frictional grind of the original, Villalobos gets right inside the groove with typically obsessive tekkerz, plucking out additional string
motifs and tempering the flow with signature, taut but sinuous, loosey goosey flex that cross-pollinates cultures and gets right under the skin of the thing.
Ricardo Villalobos (b. 1970, Chile) is a pioneering figure in minimal techno, celebrated for his hypnotic and groovy approach to rhythm. Raised in Germany after his family fled Pinochet’s regime, Villalobos was drawn early to percussion - he began playing congas and bongos at eleven, developing a tactile relationship to rhythm that would later inform his distinctive production style. Immersed in both Latin American folk traditions and the emerging house and techno scenes of late-80s Europe, he began DJing and producing in the early 1990s, quickly achieving cult status within global club culture. Mohammad Reza Mortazavi (b. 1979, Iran) is a virtuoso percussionist known for his groundbreaking work with the tombak and daf, traditional Persian drums that he has radically redefined through new playing techniques. Mortazavi began playing the tombak at the age of six. By nine, he had already outpaced his teacher and won Iran’s national tombak competition - a distinction he would earn six more times. By his early twenties, he was widely regarded as one of the foremost players of the instruments. Since then, his music has continued to evolve, embracing new forms beyond tradition.
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Moulded By Industry is William D Drake's six album, his first for ten years and a return to the richly layered sonic texture and epic production of his majestic Briny Hooves. He is joined by long time collaborators James Larcombe, Dean Gaisburgh-Watkyn and Steve Jackson, with the addition of a new crew member, singer Treana Morris. Moving on from his nine years of pianistic and compositional duties in Cardiacs, Drake's solo work has been known for its synthesis of Mellotron-driven grandeur with a surreal playfulness.
But the deep heart of Drake's work is in its powerful evocation of the landscape of the countryside and its connection with love, longing and loss. To this end, his own enigmatic lyrics have rubbed shoulders with poetry drawn from across the centuries. From obscure sources such as Samuel Spree to the poetry of Thomas Hardy and Rupert Brooke, his settings make old words shimmer with human emotion. The texture of his music also reflects an inspirational lack of concern for distances of time. The earthy breath of his harmonium is interwoven with tones teased from archaic instruments by James Larcombe – hurdy-gurdy, dulcitone and melodeon.
But Drake's sound-world is no museum. Here, ancient words and the timbres of ancient instruments become one with the rush of a moment's emotion. Moulded By Industry brings this approach a new sonic depth, intoxicatingly shaded by Treana's lush vocal harmonies and underpinned by Steve's rhythm. Dean's evocative guitar textures give an oceanic sense, tinged with Americana, recalling his work with Drake in their alt country band Nervous. These many layers of sound are drawn together into vivid soundscapes by the painterly mixing of producer Ott. Renowned for his work in electronica and dub, Ott's two decades of experience working with artists such as Sinéad O'Connor, the Orb and Brian Eno bring an organic touch here, more akin to the elemental forces of land and sky than grid electricity. More than any of Drake's previous albums, Moulded By Industry reignites the emotional urgency of old texts. The gorgeous single The Flickering Shade, haunted by glimmers of lost possibilities, is set from words by Thomas Ashe. Turtledove's heady evocation of the blissful madness of love sets the words of an anonymous 17th century ballad. above all, the album is a testament to Drake's love of John Clare, 'The Northamptonshire Peasant Poet'. Clare wrote as the centuries old process of enclosure, in which wild and common land was appropriated commercially, was accelerating.
His works, rather than representing simple sentimentality, are passionate love poems to the landscape and cries from a soul reeling from the creeping unfamiliarity devouring it. This sense of the tension between passion and ill-ease has its most potent expression in Green Shadows. The brooding, slow-tempo energy of Steve's drums drive a horizon-wide lament, alternately lulled by Treana's vocal textures and made restless by James' plaintive hurdy-gurdy and the emotive pull of Dean's slide guitar. The present moment is also a time of enclosure, both metaphorically, as our lives, memories and emotions are drawn into the commercial space of social media, and literally as land and water are swallowed by vast data centre developments. Moulded By Industry celebrates a regained sense of being in the moment in the landscape, in life and in love. The album closes with the utterly delightful single Love In The Universe. The kind of song that could make a cynic use the word 'joyous' without irony, this Harry Nilsson-esque romp reassures us, with a wink, that 'in an infinite universe everything has its place ... even the human race'.
