Search:refracted

Recital presents the first full-length vinyl LP by sound artist Asha Sheshadri. Whiplash combines elements of sound poetry, diary-like narrations, and delicate incidental music. Sheshadri has crafted a unique and marvelous album.

Asha Sheshadri is a visual artist and musician, who “meditates on meaning, context, and impermanence” (Joshua Kim). Moves freely between video, writing, sound, and photography. Her forms flow together to create unpredictable observations of the overlooked, while documenting personal and political networks within our collective, imperfect memory.

“This record is an alternate approach to the autobiographical ‘confessional’ – I wanted to stitch together some pivotal sketches in self-understanding and forgiveness. While their designs may seem affectively disparate, they are in fact quite interrelated. My intention (as with past recordings) is to task the listener with tracing the contours of the narrative (or lack thereof). Each track contains sound from video work, excerpts from writers I admire, ethnographic methods, recovered and recycled voice/text memos, photographs from personal and public archives, and research-driven fictions. These sources expand and collapse into each other, only to reveal the eponymous "whiplash". To me, the feeling of "whiplash" is the collision of: a refracted ambivalence towards what was once real, the endless cycle of reckoning with wherever "home" has taken place, the fraught process of anchoring one’s self in the wake of slow-release trauma, and how (if even possible) to translate all of this into artwork.” –Asha Sheshadri, 2023

“Place is security, space is freedom: we are attached to the one and long for the other. There is no place like home.” –Yi Fu Tuan, Space and Place: The Perspective of Experience.

All tracks arranged & recorded by Asha Sheshadri; in bedrooms, living rooms, libraries, bars, airplanes, backyards and parks across North America.
Mastered by Sean McCann.

Joe Sutkowski (Dirt Buyer)'s new album is a documentation of making it to the other side. Sutkowski grew up in New Jersey, and although he lives in Brooklyn now, he remains " an emo kid at heart ," garnering inspiration from bands like My Chemical Romance and Muse, the latter of whose theatrical, dramatic performances inspired the band's own vocal-forward, soaring takes. Initially working together as a duo while Sutkowski and Ruben Radlauer (Model/Actriz) were at school in Berklee, the band's self-titled 2019 debut album was recorded on an IPhone in their practice room on just drums and guitar, and the quietly striking, nuanced stylings earned them accolades far beyond the " fake record label " the two made up to originally release their music. The band's new album, Dirt Buyer II , was recorded in February 2020, and represents a foray into heavier material that marks a deeper shift for the band. Now working as a trio, Sutkowski is flanked by Tristan Allen on bass and Mike Costa on drums, a fellow Berklee grad who cut his teeth playing in bands across Boston including past collaborations with Sutkowski. Half-recorded while the band was on tour with Surf Curse, the record finds Sutkowski reaching out for places, people and beliefs to ground him. Throughout the album he attempts to wrap his head around the idea of fate and how you can brush up against other people and then leave them behind. The songs themselves play with this concept of light and dark intertwined. Oscillating between urgency and cathartic release and more stripped-back elegies, Sutkowski faces the reality that while the people he'd rather forget can still live on through music, he is able to move on at the same time. Half-recorded in his mother and uncle's upstate house where he turned the living room into a studio, he contemplates the beauty and disaster around him - all refracted through visceral visual imagery of how the physical earth meets the unknown to converge in something greater than ourselves. " This is all a living chronicle of all I want to do, which is feel good and be happy ," he admits. " I'm a completely different person now - a better version of myself ." Processing the past, Sutkowksi has emerged with newfound belief, fully intact and with a new path forward to the future.

Joe Sutkowski (Dirt Buyer)'s new album is a documentation of making it to the other side. Sutkowski grew up in New Jersey, and although he lives in Brooklyn now, he remains " an emo kid at heart ," garnering inspiration from bands like My Chemical Romance and Muse, the latter of whose theatrical, dramatic performances inspired the band's own vocal-forward, soaring takes. Initially working together as a duo while Sutkowski and Ruben Radlauer (Model/Actriz) were at school in Berklee, the band's self-titled 2019 debut album was recorded on an IPhone in their practice room on just drums and guitar, and the quietly striking, nuanced stylings earned them accolades far beyond the " fake record label " the two made up to originally release their music. The band's new album, Dirt Buyer II , was recorded in February 2020, and represents a foray into heavier material that marks a deeper shift for the band. Now working as a trio, Sutkowski is flanked by Tristan Allen on bass and Mike Costa on drums, a fellow Berklee grad who cut his teeth playing in bands across Boston including past collaborations with Sutkowski. Half-recorded while the band was on tour with Surf Curse, the record finds Sutkowski reaching out for places, people and beliefs to ground him. Throughout the album he attempts to wrap his head around the idea of fate and how you can brush up against other people and then leave them behind. The songs themselves play with this concept of light and dark intertwined. Oscillating between urgency and cathartic release and more stripped-back elegies, Sutkowski faces the reality that while the people he'd rather forget can still live on through music, he is able to move on at the same time. Half-recorded in his mother and uncle's upstate house where he turned the living room into a studio, he contemplates the beauty and disaster around him - all refracted through visceral visual imagery of how the physical earth meets the unknown to converge in something greater than ourselves. " This is all a living chronicle of all I want to do, which is feel good and be happy ," he admits. " I'm a completely different person now - a better version of myself ." Processing the past, Sutkowksi has emerged with newfound belief, fully intact and with a new path forward to the future.

The most potent memories I have of music are from my early childhood listening to the oldie's station, riding in the back of my Pops' 1975 Cadillac Seville to work alongside him moving plants in Sacramento at the now long gone Capitol Nursery during white hot summer afternoons, and then the drives back home in the purple twilights and oily blue-oranged nights. I'm talkin' The Temptations, War, Earth Wind and Fire, Al Green, Sly and the Family Stone, The Delfonics, Stevie Wonder, Chaka Khan...soul music. I loved the melodrama of it all. The world outside refracted and transmuted through the crackling speakers past Pops' thumping thumb and my tiny whirring mind and left whatever road behind us fundamentally changed in our wake. Through the years other sounds too left its imprint well before I picked up a guitar. Rap, Punk, hardcore, dub, R&B--and a little later in middle school, blues, folk and country. But those early Cadillac memories always remained the bedrock. With folk and blues music, I fell in love with the immediacy of it and found the acoustic guitar economical for all the solitary roaming of my early 20's. All the while I knew that one day, when I had something I felt like I could add, I wanted to incorporate the sound of those early Cadillac memories. But only after I felt established as a songwriter in its most simple form, banging on a wooden guitar and yodeling up some melody did I feel comfortable exploring other sounds and only recently did I find the time and space to do that. The pandemic trapped all the world in their rooms. While recording my last record in the height of it and at the behest of my friend and You, Yeah, You producer Brad Cook and his friend Justin Vernon, I bought my first keyboard. A Roland Juno DS. I started tinkering on it throughout the past couple of years and as I became more stationary started writing songs on different instruments that I accumulated. Layering sounds on garageband in my apartment writing bass and horn parts, making drum loops, adding synth... I became pretty obsessive with the endless possibilities it brought and got quicker and quicker at making songs that way. It was just so fun and limitless.

The most potent memories I have of music are from my early childhood listening to the oldie's station, riding in the back of my Pops' 1975 Cadillac Seville to work alongside him moving plants in Sacramento at the now long gone Capitol Nursery during white hot summer afternoons, and then the drives back home in the purple twilights and oily blue-oranged nights. I'm talkin' The Temptations, War, Earth Wind and Fire, Al Green, Sly and the Family Stone, The Delfonics, Stevie Wonder, Chaka Khan...soul music. I loved the melodrama of it all. The world outside refracted and transmuted through the crackling speakers past Pops' thumping thumb and my tiny whirring mind and left whatever road behind us fundamentally changed in our wake. Through the years other sounds too left its imprint well before I picked up a guitar. Rap, Punk, hardcore, dub, R&B--and a little later in middle school, blues, folk and country. But those early Cadillac memories always remained the bedrock. With folk and blues music, I fell in love with the immediacy of it and found the acoustic guitar economical for all the solitary roaming of my early 20's. All the while I knew that one day, when I had something I felt like I could add, I wanted to incorporate the sound of those early Cadillac memories. But only after I felt established as a songwriter in its most simple form, banging on a wooden guitar and yodeling up some melody did I feel comfortable exploring other sounds and only recently did I find the time and space to do that. The pandemic trapped all the world in their rooms. While recording my last record in the height of it and at the behest of my friend and You, Yeah, You producer Brad Cook and his friend Justin Vernon, I bought my first keyboard. A Roland Juno DS. I started tinkering on it throughout the past couple of years and as I became more stationary started writing songs on different instruments that I accumulated. Layering sounds on garageband in my apartment writing bass and horn parts, making drum loops, adding synth... I became pretty obsessive with the endless possibilities it brought and got quicker and quicker at making songs that way. It was just so fun and limitless.

The latest EP from Drab Majesty marks the start of a stirring new chapter in the band's majestic legacy. Written during a 2021 retreat to the remote coastal Oregon town of Yachats, Deb Demure leaned into the neo- psychedelic resonance of a uniquely bowl - shaped 12 -string Ovation acoustic/electric guitar. After early morning hikes in the rain, Deb would record ambient guitar experiments the rest of the day, tapping into "flow states," letting the sound lead the way. These sessions were then refined or recreated, and later elevated further with key collaborations by Rachel Goswell (Slowdive), Justin Meldal Johnson (Beck, M83, Air), and Ben Greenberg (Uniform, Circular Ruin Studio). An Object In Motion is true to its title, capturing the chrysalis moment of an artist evolving, reborn and untet hered, silhouetted against an open horizon. "Cape Perpetua" kicks off the collection's divergent palette: sparkling acoustic fingerpicking refracted through delay, equal parts raga and reverie. Melodies and moods congeal and dissipate, at the threshold of rustic American primitivism, brooding neo-folk, and pastoral melancholia. "The Skin And The Glove" deploys jangle to different effect baggy, soaring, grey skied kaleidoscopic pop in the spirit of Stone Roses, Primal Scream, and The Glove. Rachel Goswell lends her iconic freefall voice to The Cure - esque ballad, "Vanity," infusing poetic gravity to the doomed refrain: "If the valve breaks / then the earth quakes / and history finds a way / to put you in your place." "Yield To Force", the closing track of the EP, may be the most anomalous offering of the set. A 15 minute instrumental odyssey of cyclical strings, ominous slide guitar, and simmering synthesizer, the piece sways and spirals like a long zoom into distant storm clouds. Demure finesses the guitar with a restless but regal grandeur, unfolding a panorama of peaks, shadows, and plateaus. It's music both intuitive and prophetic, tracing the slow swing of pendulums across an endless plain. Taken as a whole, An Object In Motion presents a showcase of potential futures from Drab's evolving domain, their sound poised to bloom at the precipice of transformation.

A.R. Kive collates the three most astonishing works from that most miraculous of duos - A.R. Kane - comprising the ‘Up Home’ EP from 1988 that signified the band’s dawning realisation of their own powers and possibilities, their legendary debut LP ‘sixty nine’ (1988) and its kaleidoscopic, prophetic double-LP follow up ‘i’ (1989).

In founder-member Rudy Tambala’s new remastering, the music on these pivotal transmissions from the birth of dream pop, have been reinvigorated and re-infused with a new power, a new depth and intimacy, a new height and immensity. Vivid, timeless and yet always timely whenever they’re recalled, these records still force any listener to realise that despite the habits of retrospective myth-making and the
safe neutering effects of ‘genre’, thirty years have in no way dimmed how resistant and dissident to critical habits of categorisation A.R. Kane always were. Never quite ‘avant-pop’ or ‘shoegaze’ or ‘post-rock’ or any of those sobriquets designed to file and categorise, A.R. Kive is a reminder that those genres had to be coined, had to be invented precisely to contain the astonishing sound of A.R. Kane, because
previous formulations couldn’t come close to their sui generis sound and suggestiveness. This is music that pointed towards futures which a whole generation of artists and sonic explorers would map out. Now beautifully repackaged, remastered and fleshed out with extensive sleeve notes and accompanying materials, ‘A.R. Kive’ reveals that 35 years on it’s still a struggle to defuse the revolutionary and inspirational possibility of A.R. Kane’s music.

A.R. Kane were formed in 1986 by Rudy Tambala and Alex Ayuli, two second-generation immigrants who grew up together in Stratford, East London. From the off the pair were outsiders in the culturally mixed (cockney/Irish/West Indian/Asian) milieu of the East End, with Alex and Rudy’s folks first generation immigrants from Nigeria and Malawi, respectively. The two of them quickly developed and fostered an innate and near-telepathic mutual understanding forged in musical, literary and artistic exploration. Like a lot of second-generation immigrants, they were ferocious autodidacts in all kinds of areas, especially around music and literature. Diving deep into the music of afro-futurist luminaries such as Sun Ra, Miles Davis, Lee Perry and
Hendrix, as well as devouring the explorations of lysergic noise and feedback from contemporaries like Sonic Youth and Butthole Surfers, they also thoroughly immersed themselves in the alternate literary realities of sci-fi and ancient history (the fascination with the arcane that gave the band their name), all to feed their voracious cultural thirsts and intellectual curiosity.

It was seeing the Cocteau Twins performing on Channel 4 show the Tube that spurred A.R. Kane into being - “They had no drummer. They used tapes and technology and Liz Fraser looked completely otherworldly with those big eyes. And the noise coming out of Robin’s guitar! That was the ‘Fuck! We could do that! We could express ourselves like that!’ moment”, recalls Tambala - and through a mix of
confidence, chutzpah, ad hoc almost-mythical live shows and sheer innocent will the duo debuted with the astonishing ‘When You’re Sad’ single for One Little Indian in 1986. Immediately dubbed a ‘black Jesus & Mary Chain’ by a press unsure of WHERE to put a black band clearly immersed in feedback and noise, what was immediately apparent for listeners was just how much more was going on here - a
tapping of dub’s stealth and guile, a resonant umbilicus back to fusion and jazz, the music less a conjuration of past highs than a re-summoning of lost spirits.
The run of singles and EPs that followed picked up increasingly rapt reviews in the press, but it was the ‘Up Home EP’ released in 1988 on their new home, Rough Trade that really suggested something immense was about to break. Simon Reynolds noted the EP was: Their most concentrated slab of iridescent awesomeness and a true pinnacle of an era that abounded with astounding landmarks of guitar-reinvention, A.R. Kane at their most elixir-like.

If anything, the remastered ‘Up Home’ that forms the first part of ‘A.R. Kive’ is even more dazzling, even more startling than it was when it first emerged, and listening now you again wonder not just about how many bands christened ‘shoegaze’ tried to emulate it, but how all of them fell so far short of its lambent, pellucid wonder. This remains intrinsically experimental music but with none of the frowning orthodoxy those words imply. A.R. Kane, thanks to that second generation auto-didacticism were always supremely aware about the interstices of music and magic, but at the same time gloriously free in the way they explored that connection within their own sound, fascinated always with the creation of ‘perfect mistakes’ and the possibilities inherent in informed play.

‘sixty nine’ the group’s debut LP that emerged in 1988 had
critics and listeners struggling to fit language around A.R. Kane’s sound. As a title it was telling - the year of ‘Bitches Brew’, the year of ‘In A Silent Way’, the erotic möbius between two lovers - and as originally coined by the band themselves, ‘dream pop’ (before it became a free-floating signifier of vague import) was entirely apposite for the music A.R. Kane were making. Crafted in a dark small basement studio in which Tambala recalls the duo had “complete freedom - We wanted to go as far out as we could, and in doing so we discovered the point where it stops being music”. There was an irresistibly dreamy, somnambulant, sensual and almost surreal flow to ‘sixty nine’s sound, but also real darkness/dankness, the ruptures of the primordial and the reverberations of the subconscious, within the grooves of remarkable songs like ‘Dizzy’ and ‘Crazy Blue’. Alex’s plangent vocals floated and surged amidst exquisite peals of refracted feedback but crucially there was BASS here, lugubrious and funky and full of dread, sonic pleasure and sonic disturbance crushed together to make music with a center so deep it felt subcutaneous, music constructed from both the accidental and the deliberate, generous enough to dance with both serendipity and chaos. ‘sixty nine’ remains - especially in this remastered iteration - ravishing, revolutionary.

The final part of this ‘A.R. Kive’ contains 1989’s astonishing double-LP ‘i’ which followed up on ‘sixty nine’s promise and saw the duo fully unleash their experimental pop sensibilities over 26 tracks, plunging the A.R. Kane sound into a dazzlingly kaleidoscopic vision of pop experiment and play. Suffused with new digital technologies and combining searingly sweet and danceable pop with perhaps the duo’s strangest and boundary-pushing compositions, the album did exactly what a great double-set should do - indulge the artists sprawling pursuit of their own imaginations but always with a concision and an ear for those moments where pop both transcends and toys with the listeners expectations. Jason Ankeny has noted that “In retrospect, ‘i’ now seems like a crystal ball prophesying virtually every major musical development of the 1990s; from the shimmering techno of ‘A Love from Outer Space’ to the liquid dub of ‘What’s All This Then?’, from the alien drone-pop of ‘Conundrum’ to the sinister shoegazer miasma of ‘Supervixens’ — it’s all here, an underground road map for countless bands to follow.” Perhaps the most overwhelmingly all-encompassing transmission from A.R. Kane, ‘i’ bookended a three year period in which the duo had made some of the most prophetic and revelatory music of the entire decade.

After ‘i’ the duo’s output became more sporadic with Tambala and Ayuli moving in different directions both geographically and musically, with only 1994’s ‘New Clear Child’ a crystalline re-fraction of future and past echoes of jazz, folk and soul, before the duo went their separate ways. Since then, A.R. Kane’s music has endured, not thanks to the usual sepia’d false memories that seem to maintain interest in so much of the musical past, but because those who hear A.R. Kane music and are changed irrevocably, have to share that universe which A.R. Kane opened up, with anyone else who will listen. Far more than other lauded documents of the late 80s it still sounds astonishingly fresh, astonishingly livid and vivid and necessary and NOW.

The latest EP from Drab Majesty marks the start of a stirring new chapter in the band's majestic legacy. Written during a 2021 retreat to the remote coastal Oregon town of Yachats, Deb Demure leaned into the neo- psychedelic resonance of a uniquely bowl - shaped 12 -string Ovation acoustic/electric guitar. After early morning hikes in the rain, Deb would record ambient guitar experiments the rest of the day, tapping into "flow states," letting the sound lead the way. These sessions were then refined or recreated, and later elevated further with key collaborations by Rachel Goswell (Slowdive), Justin Meldal Johnson (Beck, M83, Air), and Ben Greenberg (Uniform, Circular Ruin Studio). An Object In Motion is true to its title, capturing the chrysalis moment of an artist evolving, reborn and untet hered, silhouetted against an open horizon. "Cape Perpetua" kicks off the collection's divergent palette: sparkling acoustic fingerpicking refracted through delay, equal parts raga and reverie. Melodies and moods congeal and dissipate, at the threshold of rustic American primitivism, brooding neo-folk, and pastoral melancholia. "The Skin And The Glove" deploys jangle to different effect baggy, soaring, grey skied kaleidoscopic pop in the spirit of Stone Roses, Primal Scream, and The Glove. Rachel Goswell lends her iconic freefall voice to The Cure - esque ballad, "Vanity," infusing poetic gravity to the doomed refrain: "If the valve breaks / then the earth quakes / and history finds a way / to put you in your place." "Yield To Force", the closing track of the EP, may be the most anomalous offering of the set. A 15 minute instrumental odyssey of cyclical strings, ominous slide guitar, and simmering synthesizer, the piece sways and spirals like a long zoom into distant storm clouds. Demure finesses the guitar with a restless but regal grandeur, unfolding a panorama of peaks, shadows, and plateaus. It's music both intuitive and prophetic, tracing the slow swing of pendulums across an endless plain. Taken as a whole, An Object In Motion presents a showcase of potential futures from Drab's evolving domain, their sound poised to bloom at the precipice of transformation.

Classic 1987 album is one of the band’s most beloved releases. Includes a cover of Crime’s “Hot Wire My Heart”. “Let’s get something straight. There is no album in the entire corpus of indie rock not Loveless, not Surfer Rosa, not Psychocandy that reaches the heights of invention, joy, and magic of Sonic Youth’s sublime fifth album.... The haunted reveries of Sister remain with you for years, even if you only hear them once” Stereogum // 1987’s Sister was another notch in the band's move away from No Wave, yet still maintained their experimental approach. Gordon, Moore, Ranaldo and Shelley were coming into their own at this point, combining elements of noise, punk and pop. They had also become better songwriters since their previous album, providing better context for their noisier elements and incorporating the dissonance of their earlier releases into more traditional song structures. To quote Stereogum once again, “Sister is the sonic manifestation of refracted light. It’s a record that changes you.”

Lurka ended the year on a high with a kick-ass new EP on his own new label Make Your Own. He is now set to start 2023 in an equally strong fashion with four more futuristic bass fusions. 'Wire' is a minimal stepper with bursts of bass and flitting percussive lines. 'Molten Drum' is another twitchy mix of malfunctioning computer sounds, refracted vocals and fizzing synths that keep you on edge then 'Machine' picks ups the pace with jumpy rhythms and militant snare work. 'Zone (Packet)' rounds out with a double-speed workout and juke patterns that head out on a cosmic journey.

Presence Reverts to Absence is the 6th album from dutch ambient-beats duo Tangent.
The album finds Rob- bert Kok and Ralph van Reijendam expanding the Tangent pallet with additions of more poignantly propulsive beatwork and integral modular synth flourishes, which raises their deeply contrasting ethos to new heights.
There has always been something rather unworldly about Tangent's music, and Presence Reverts to Absence might be their most celestial album to date by leaning lightly into sci-fi territory with its sound bed of ghostly beacon transmissions and dusty swelling synth tones.

"A refracted audio book soundtracking the bathing culture of the Ottoman Baths in Budapest, cut-up from Dalia Neis' metaphysical thriller 'The Swarm' ( The Elephants Press, 2023).
This is the fourth iteration of the Transdanubian odyssey, beginning in Dali Muru & The Polyphonic Swarm's LP, before drifting into book form, radio show, and now audio book.
This limited-edition vinyl is an updated, revised version of the original NTS show broadcasted in January 2022."

Clear Vinyl

Queens Of The Circulating Library stands alongside Time Machines and Nurse With Wound's Soliloquy For Lilith as a post-industrial pinnacle of sensory-warping long-form drone. Crafted by the distilled duo of Thighpaulsandra and John Balance, the 49-minute piece unfurls in swirling, cyclical waves, tidal as much as textural, channeling the spirit of levitational minimalism pioneered by La Monte Young. Touted as the first part in "a continually mutating series of circulating musickal compositions" upon its initial release in 2000, the album remains a compelling case study in Coil's exceptional capacity for mutation and extremes. The theatrical introductory monologue delivered by Thighpaulsandra's mother - a career opera singer, in her 80's at the time of recording - sets the stage for a grandiose ascension. Written by Balance, the text is declamatory but dreamlike, refracted through megaphone echo: "Return the book of knowledge / Return the marble index / File under "Paradox" / The forest is a college, each tree a university." As her voice fades, the lulling synthetic infinity deepens, congealing into transient crests of volume and haze, like slow-motion surf misting in moonlight. Thighpaulsandra describes their aesthetic intention as a "bliss out," static but shape-shifting, an amniotic drift towards an eternal vanishing point. A supreme sonic embodiment of the slogan on the sleeve of Time Machines, two years prior: "Persistence is all.

Dismantling the acoustic to feed the electronic, Editions Mego presents Telepath, the new album by Material Object. Born out of a single improvised recording session with a lone Violinist, Telepath is a startling album of future electronic music, resulting in an LP of unique and timeless tracks that reimagine a classic sound for an endless future.

Boldly departing from his previous canon of largely 'ambient' work, Material Object's Telepath renders itself out as something much stranger, something more spacious, more subtle and gradual. Moments of bouncing minimalism meet moirés of delayed pure tones phasing in and out of resolution, giving way to a series of strobing foreground gestures arranged and offset in disorienting landscapes which scatter themselves asymmetrically amongst crystal pools of reverb.

Revelling in the creative dismemberment of the original source material, Material Object slowly and patiently induces the violin to undergo every category of torsion, pressure and rupture. Its vivid acoustic qualities pass over and across the event horizon of the digital domain. Shattering then crystallising into points and coordinates, intersections, disjunctions, planes and reverberant figures. An uncanny geometry perceived only between the ears, at once dissolving and reconstructing itself.

Not to be missed here is the essential, but bonus only, add-on (available with all Bandcamp purchases) "Auxiliary Apparition", a hallucinatory expanse that traverses the same liminal geography as the LP proper but as some refracted, ghostly counterpoint. More nocturnal, overpowering phantasms looming out of a droning noise floor before fading away. A hypnotic and time-dilated recapitulation of what's gone before as if looking back from beyond a mirror. When it finally resolves in the closing moments and returns you home, you realise you haven't really moved at all.

Equally abstract, haunting and daring, Material Object’s Telepath is a singular work that abandons all notions of genre. Erupting with a tension of opposites that unfolds as a truly unique story, told in four dimensions and draped in deafening colour.

If we want to look into the future, we have to start considering the implications more holistically. All too often, science fiction is a dystopian projection of the current era's grimmest realities spiked with pragmatic historical hindsight - but what if instead it was able to reflect our needs, hopes, and dreams? On "SPINE", award-winning Danish composer SØS Gunver Ryberg considers a sustainable alternative, buoyed by interconnectedness, empowerment, and understanding. Channeling her dextrous sound design into advanced, time-bending music that fluctuates through techno, experimental ambient, and soundsystem-vibrating bass music, she maps out an artistic landscape that's futuristic and complex, but never oppressive.

Ryberg is an accomplished producer who's developed her sound over many years, playing concerts and working tirelessly on video game soundtracks, film scores, dance, performance, and multichannel installation pieces. Her first solo album "Entangled" appeared in 2019 on Berlin's esteemed Avian imprint, and was praised for its sensitive approach to noise and abstracted techno, while its EP-length followup "WHYT 030" was nominated for the Nordic Council's prestigious music prize this year. "SPINE" is the inaugural release on Ryberg's own label Arterial, and stands as a thematically dense statement of intent. The label provides a platform to extend Ryberg's artistic goals and reflect not just her world but a world she wants to see develop in the future: somewhere connected and creative, where exploration and free expression is prioritized over genre division and petty compromise.

This philosophy is central to the sounds on "SPINE", which have been carefully sculpted to accurately lay out Ryberg's worldview. Opening track 'Unfolding' presents a sonic ecosystem that flourishes as it spreads itself out, and quivering kick drums vibrate alongside unstable atmospherics. There's the faint fingerprint of Chain Reaction's notional dub techno in there somewhere, but Ryberg interrupts the thought before it can coagulate, assuring the listener that her vision isn't ponderous but playful and optimistic. This mood flickers into view again on the title track 'Spine', as fragmented breaks rumble beneath disorienting synths, faint images of a life we once knew refracted into cosmic beams of light. 'Mirrored Madness' meanwhile is warm, assertive, and optimistic, contrasting skittering cybernetic percussion with dense, enveloping harmonies.

When she pushes rhythm into the background, like on the cinematic 'We tumble on the edges', Ryberg's compositional skill is placed under the microscope. We're presented with the opportunity to examine another dimension of her work, the mystery beneath the stone, hearing saturated, alluring pads infused with hidden harmonies. In these moments, Ryberg implores all of us to consider the environment, asking us to think about the earth's essential nutrients on the dreamy 'Phosphorus Cycle', and what we might do to save ourselves on the delirious 'Where do we go from here'. Ryberg's concern isn't chastising, it's laid out in a warm embrace. The future could still be bright - there's something beautiful in the complexity if you just take the time to look closely.

Queens Of The Circulating Library stands alongside Time Machines and Nurse With Wound's Soliloquy For Lilith as a post-industrial pinnacle of sensory-warping long-form drone. Crafted by the distilled duo of Thighpaulsandra and John Balance, the 49-minute piece unfurls in swirling, cyclical waves, tidal as much as textural, channeling the spirit of levitational minimalism pioneered by La Monte Young. Touted as the first part in "a continually mutating series of circulating musickal compositions" upon its initial release in 2000, the album remains a compelling case study in Coil's exceptional capacity for mutation and extremes. The theatrical introductory monologue delivered by Thighpaulsandra's mother - a career opera singer, in her 80's at the time of recording - sets the stage for a grandiose ascension. Written by Balance, the text is declamatory but dreamlike, refracted through megaphone echo: "Return the book of knowledge / Return the marble index / File under "Paradox" / The forest is a college, each tree a university." As her voice fades, the lulling synthetic infinity deepens, congealing into transient crests of volume and haze, like slow-motion surf misting in moonlight. Thighpaulsandra describes their aesthetic intention as a "bliss out," static but shape-shifting, an amniotic drift towards an eternal vanishing point. A supreme sonic embodiment of the slogan on the sleeve of Time Machines, two years prior: "Persistence is all.

Transparent Blue Vinyl

Queens Of The Circulating Library stands alongside Time Machines and Nurse With Wound's Soliloquy For Lilith as a post-industrial pinnacle of sensory-warping long-form drone. Crafted by the distilled duo of Thighpaulsandra and John Balance, the 49-minute piece unfurls in swirling, cyclical waves, tidal as much as textural, channeling the spirit of levitational minimalism pioneered by La Monte Young. Touted as the first part in "a continually mutating series of circulating musickal compositions" upon its initial release in 2000, the album remains a compelling case study in Coil's exceptional capacity for mutation and extremes. The theatrical introductory monologue delivered by Thighpaulsandra's mother - a career opera singer, in her 80's at the time of recording - sets the stage for a grandiose ascension. Written by Balance, the text is declamatory but dreamlike, refracted through megaphone echo: "Return the book of knowledge / Return the marble index / File under "Paradox" / The forest is a college, each tree a university." As her voice fades, the lulling synthetic infinity deepens, congealing into transient crests of volume and haze, like slow-motion surf misting in moonlight. Thighpaulsandra describes their aesthetic intention as a "bliss out," static but shape-shifting, an amniotic drift towards an eternal vanishing point. A supreme sonic embodiment of the slogan on the sleeve of Time Machines, two years prior: "Persistence is all.

The elusive SW. returns to Avenue 66 with okALGORYTHM. His third LP for the label is a semi-opaque wandering through the shadowy byways of memory, driven by tough-yet-supple production and his unmistakable, unerringly original voice. Inspired by all night electronic radio shows of the '90s, okALGORYTHM pulses with rich imagination and a sense of purposeful meandering. Speaking in cryptic fragments, the artist hints at elusive reminiscences "back then on the autobahn, to Berlin, with friends" while also noting that some recollections are "of things that didn't happen that way."

To this end, the album drifts from the knotty synth spirals of opener "WHAtADAY" through the tense, technoid tropics of "stepCLASSixMOtor," the brightly melancholic Larry Heard-isms of "TROPyCALLhytsrIA" to the stately skronk of closer "What endingENDs." The rhythmic undergirding never lets up, suggesting a limitless night drive tinted in deep greens and refracted reds. Each of the album's ten tracks comes alive with warm, analog finesse and a palpable atmosphere, though they play out by turns urgent or unhurried, coaxing or inscrutable. Yet throughout, there's a consistently hypnotic quality which draws the listener deeper into the album's unique balancing act.

If listeners are trained to expect throwback anthems every time the '90s are referenced, here they might find a more apt touchstone in the wilder, left-of-center corners of Chicago's foundational epoch. Throughout the album, the spirit of jacking house is absorbed, metabolized and transmuted. Drawing on lineages of taut, nervy synth-and-drum machine workouts, SW. manipulates his hardware with the delicate, considered touch of a painter. Perhaps the memory that lingers longest from that bygone era is the sense of profound possibility that dawns before forms become rigidly calificed and commodified. Either way, adventurous listeners will find that okALGORYTHM blooms with a uniquely affecting grace and SW.'s inimitably obscure loveliness, infused with a somber glow and marked by shimmering, untraceable contours.

The Microphones, Bon Iver, Lomelda, Vegyn, Hovvdy, Dijon. “Lemon Cream” vinyl is for Indies Only. Follow up to 2019’s critically acclaimed ‘bunny’. Sam Hall’s new album as ghost orchard, ‘rainbow music’, is a collage of patience and meditation. It’s filled with nuances as quietly imperceptible as the seasons, or the profound movement of time, where one day looking back you realize your whole spirit has shifted. Where 2019’s critically revered ‘bunny’ was a love letter to a romantic relationship, ‘rainbow music’ documents the culmination of Hall’s first personal experience with loss in several forms. At the end of 2020, his longterm childhood pet passed away, and with it the last continuing threads of familiarity between being a kid and adulthood. Still based in the Grand Rapids, Michigan town he’d grown up in, the static ease of familiar living seemed to be coming apart at the seams, as friends moved on to bigger cities, relationships shapeshifted and in a short period of time, another kitten he’d adopted passed away prematurely, leaving Hall to question the trajectory in which he himself was headed. Like “songs in the key of life,” the title ‘rainbow music’ refers to the myriad of colors and qualities within Hall that are refracted throughout. It’s a symbolization of hope and the aftermath, the flickering light at the end of the tunnel (or “when a rainbow shows up after a big storm”). “Wish I could have fun anymore,” Hall ruminates on “dancing”, as well as confessing he “wish he made more upbeat bangers.” But reality packs more of a punch, and this collection of songs sees him finally be at peace with the current state of affairs. Relatable to anyone who has contemplated what it means to settle down, or even just catch your breath in an era where anguish is commonplace, the release of ‘rainbow music’ is a happy ending in its own right, a marker of survival that remains close to the bone. // Ghost Orchard’s “bunny” is a blushing, beatific beat. - The FADER // Fluttering and transportive, a swirl of beats and plucky guitar and strings that feels like a cocoon. - Stereogum // Hip-hop inflected, stream-of-consciousness confessionals that’ll have you swooning in the lazy summer sunlight. – Paste // Track listing: 01. Rest 02. Jessamine 03. Cursive 04. Maisy 05. Cut 06. soot 07. memory storage 08. Dancing 09. bruise 10. sweet song 11. comfort (rainbow)

The Microphones, Bon Iver, Lomelda, Vegyn, Hovvdy, Dijon. “Lemon Cream” vinyl is for Indies Only. Follow up to 2019’s critically acclaimed ‘bunny’. Sam Hall’s new album as ghost orchard, ‘rainbow music’, is a collage of patience and meditation. It’s filled with nuances as quietly imperceptible as the seasons, or the profound movement of time, where one day looking back you realize your whole spirit has shifted. Where 2019’s critically revered ‘bunny’ was a love letter to a romantic relationship, ‘rainbow music’ documents the culmination of Hall’s first personal experience with loss in several forms. At the end of 2020, his longterm childhood pet passed away, and with it the last continuing threads of familiarity between being a kid and adulthood. Still based in the Grand Rapids, Michigan town he’d grown up in, the static ease of familiar living seemed to be coming apart at the seams, as friends moved on to bigger cities, relationships shapeshifted and in a short period of time, another kitten he’d adopted passed away prematurely, leaving Hall to question the trajectory in which he himself was headed. Like “songs in the key of life,” the title ‘rainbow music’ refers to the myriad of colors and qualities within Hall that are refracted throughout. It’s a symbolization of hope and the aftermath, the flickering light at the end of the tunnel (or “when a rainbow shows up after a big storm”). “Wish I could have fun anymore,” Hall ruminates on “dancing”, as well as confessing he “wish he made more upbeat bangers.” But reality packs more of a punch, and this collection of songs sees him finally be at peace with the current state of affairs. Relatable to anyone who has contemplated what it means to settle down, or even just catch your breath in an era where anguish is commonplace, the release of ‘rainbow music’ is a happy ending in its own right, a marker of survival that remains close to the bone. // Ghost Orchard’s “bunny” is a blushing, beatific beat. - The FADER // Fluttering and transportive, a swirl of beats and plucky guitar and strings that feels like a cocoon. - Stereogum // Hip-hop inflected, stream-of-consciousness confessionals that’ll have you swooning in the lazy summer sunlight. – Paste // Track listing: 01. Rest 02. Jessamine 03. Cursive 04. Maisy 05. Cut 06. soot 07. memory storage 08. Dancing 09. bruise 10. sweet song 11. comfort (rainbow)