Buscar:remo con

Eine Frau ist auf einem Kreuzfahrtschiff gefangen. Ein Prediger beschließt, mit seiner Stadt unterzugehen. Ein Mann im Blumenladen verliert sich in der Bedeutung eines Arrangements. Diese und andere Menschen an persönlichen wie gesellschaftlichen Grenzpunkten stehen im Mittelpunkt von zehn zeitgemäßen und zugleich zeitlosen Kurzgeschichten, die The New Pornographers auf ihrem kommenden Album The Former Site Of in Form sorgfältig komponierter Popsongs versammeln.Wie schon Continue as a Guest zeigt auch dieses Album The New Pornographers - Bandleader A.C. Newman, Neko Case, Kathryn Calder, John Collins und Todd Fancey - dabei, wie sie ihren ohnehin reichen Katalog auf überraschende Weise erweitern. Unterstützt vom legendären Session-Drummer Charley Drayton (Divinyls, Keith Richards, Fiona Apple) war der Raum innerhalb eines New-Pornographers-Songs noch nie so klar definiert und zugleich so reich texturiert. Das verleiht den Figuren, deren Leben sich in Newmans einfühlsamen, bildhaften Texten entfalten, einen unverwechselbaren Puls.The Former Site Of verleiht dem Sound, den Newman durch das Schreiben und Aufnehmen im Heimstudio entwickelte, zusätzliche Tiefe und verfeinert den kreativen Prozess der Band weit über die Notwendigkeiten der Lockdown-Ära und der damaligen Remote-Zusammenarbeit hinaus. ,Die Zeit in meinem Studio hat vieles geöffnet", erklärt er. ,Ich kann zuerst das Skelett eines Songs zusammenstellen - nur ein paar Elemente, das zentrale Gefühl, wirklich so wenig wie möglich - bevor ich ihn zur Band bringe und von dort aus weitermache."Zwei Alben nach dieser Veränderung erschaffen The New Pornographers Klanguniversen von komplexer Textur und erzählerischer Detailfülle, bei denen jede Ebene darauf abgestimmt ist, eine unerwartete neue Facette offenzulegen. Wie schon auf Continue as a Guest ist eine der deutlichsten Ebenen die Art und Weise, wie sich ein Song um ein hervorgehobenes Instrument formt. Auf The Former Site Of ist es die Mandoline, die - in Carl Newmans Händen - der Lead-Single ,Votive" ihr Gefühl von Beschleunigung verleiht, während sie sich vom atmosphärischen Synth- und Keyboard-Intro zu einer klassischen, weit offenen Jam-Nummer aufbaut.,Hände schützen ein Streichholz / Ich versuche nur, das Licht am Brennen zu halten", singt Newman in dem Stück. Diese Metapher - das Festhalten trotz der Unsicherheit des Lebens - zieht sich wie ein roter Faden durch The Former Site Of. ,Bonus Mai Tais" handelt im Grunde davon, wie die Flamme erlischt: Newman schreibt darin offen über ein Treffen mit einem Freund, der an fortgeschrittenem Krebs erkrankt ist, und über seine eigene Entwaffnung angesichts dessen Offenheit im Angesicht des Todes. Es ist ein brutal trauriger Song, dessen Schmerz in Newmans Stimme schwebt - und zugleich einer der schönsten der Band, wobei die Harmonien von Neko Case und Kathryn Calder wie ein ätherischer Spiegel der Szene wirken.The Former Site Of platziert viele seiner Figuren am Rand des Vergessens - ihre Zeit wird knapp, ihre Situation scheint aussichtslos -, und doch halten sie fest. Das gilt auch, wenn The New Pornographers den Blick nach innen richten, wie auf ,Pure Sticker Shock", in dem Newmans Texte um Selbstwert kreisen. Dass sie sich selbst unter dieser so unterschiedlichen Figurenriege wiederfinden können - sogar die Cassini-Huygens-Sonde aus ,Spooky Action" - verleiht dem Album Zusammenhalt, noch bevor die sich wiederholende Schlusszeile des Titeltracks erklingt, die den Weg ins Herz jedes einzelnen Songs warm erleuchtet und einladend macht.Weit davon entfernt, einfach das erwartbare nächste Kapitel von The New Pornographers zu sein, ist The Former Site Of ein Plädoyer gegen Erwartungen - von einer Band, die sich weiterentwickelt, statt sich auf ihren Lorbeeren auszuruhen. Selbst in den dunkelsten oder selbstironischsten Momenten liegt in dieser Musik eine unwiderstehliche Spritzigkeit: eine Bestätigung, dass der Kampf ihrer Figuren und der Hörer:innen - wie das Foto eines fernen Planeten - es wert ist.

'Balconies' is an urgent, physical record shaped by momentum and heat. The album takes its title from a recurring metaphor: a balcony as a place of exposure and distance. Elevated, visible, yet removed from the action below. Throughout the record, Tin Fingers explore feelings of observation, displacement and restlessness, moving through places without fully belonging.

Musically, 'Balconies' marks a clear shift for the Antwerp band. Where earlier releases leaned into intimacy and melancholy, this album is louder, more direct and built for movement. Sharp, energetic songs are balanced by the band's continued attention to atmosphere and imagery.

The album was written instinctively over three months by frontman Felix Machtelinckx before being brought to the band, with arrangements coming together quickly thanks to years of shared experience. Recording took place over four hot summer days at The Old Carpet Factory on Hydra, Greece. The warmth, the sea and the island's isolation shaped both sound and mood, while limited time encouraged live recordings that capture the album's raw energy and immediacy. 'Balconies' was mixed by D. James Goodwin (The National, Kevin Morby, Whitney).

Following the release, Tin Fingers will present 'Balconies' live, with shows at De Roma (Antwerp), Mezz (Breda) and Supersonic (Paris).

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

In 2026, Vreid will release The Skies Turn Black, their first studio album in five years and a powerful statement from one of Norway's most enduring metal bands. The album marks a renewed creative chapter, shaped through a challenging but ultimately transformative process in which the band reconnected with the essence of their Sognametal roots while exploring new dimensions of their sound. Throughout the album's eleven tracks, Vreid merges fragments of their past with a revitalized artistic drive. The early breakthrough came with From These Woods, written during a late-night session in a remote mountain cabin. The song captured the emotional core of the album and helped steer the band back toward the heart of their identity. The title track The Skies Turn Black also holds a central place on the album. Written by bassist and songwriter Jarle Kvåle as a tribute to Ozzy Osbourne and the music that has shaped his life, the song carries a deeply personal foundation. Kvåle's experience attending Black Sabbath's farewell concert in Birmingham, after previously helping to organize the band's final Norwegian shows along with Ozzy's, left a profound mark and sparked the creative energy that shaped the song's weight and atmosphere.

MEMORIALS jump off the waterslides and head above the clouds with their stunning second album proper, 'All Clouds Bring Not Rain'. The duo of Verity Susman and Matthew Simms (formerly of Electrelane and WIRE) locked themselves away in a studio in a barn secluded deep in the woods in southwestern France and re-emerged with a beautiful, unusual record that is both melodic and unconventional. For such an ambitious album it's striking that it was written, performed, recorded and mixed solely by the two of them. Sounding like an unearthed classic, MEMORIALS twist their influences into their own unmistakable sound. Imagine Nico singing with Can produced by David Axelrod and you're somewhere in the right ballpark. The record draws inspiration from a wide range of music including folk, dub, post punk, experimental tape music, 60s soul, garage rock, 70s spiritual jazz and Canterbury prog. Verity's distinctive, unadorned singing is a focal point of the record, moving from tender to wild. Her vocal melodies quickly become earworms, providing the tuneful heart around which the songs' more unorthodox elements are arranged, which is where Matthew's unconventional approach to recording and production comes to the fore. With their adventurous arrangements, classic songwriting skills and innovative production techniques, MEMORIALS have created another mesmerising listen that's accomplished and compelling in its unique approach yet remains dizzyingly immersive - just like their acclaimed live shows. "Exciting and unpredictable" The Guardian "Everything you'd expect from a duo adept in the strange and esoteric, while also in thrall to pop music's melodic bent." The Quietus "Stunning, kaleidoscopic tunes" Electronic Sound "Engagingly eclectic" UNCUT "Divinely tuneful yet confrontational" The Wire "Kaleidoscopic art-pop and adventurous psych-rock with an immersive, experimental aura." KEXP.

Special Friend have become the masters of weaving elegant and sophisticated pop musical webs while staying true to their low-fi indiepop roots. The French/American duo (Guillaume on guitar and vocals, Erica on drums and vocals) manage to create a sound like no other band. When they play live, audiences marvel at the huge, intricate structures the band construct, while falling in love with the crystal-clear vocal melodies that are threaded in between the shards of guitar and the rattle of the drums. How can a duo achieve so much? UK audiences will be able to ponder this question in March: Special Friend are coming over from France to do a substantial tour of the UK. These shows are highly recommended!
The new album is more diverse that the last, with the high-tempo indiepop of first single ‘Breakfast’, the majestic, Yo La Tengo-like dreampop of ‘Clipping’ and the country-ish, gentle, homesick melancholy of ‘Isolation’. Final track ‘OOO’ is a bold piece of Krautrock-inspired experimentation; ‘Mold’ is a beautiful slice of slowcore and opener ‘Paint A Picture’ is modern pop at its catchiest and most direct.

‘Clipping’, the album title, refers to the discipline of pruning growth back, removing dead wood to create a perfectly shaped tree with abundant blossoms: an accurate description of the album, and of the songs that hang from its elegant branches. The album artwork is by Erica: Special Friend are in control of every aspect of this elegant artefact.
‘Clipping’ was recorded in 2025 at Studio Claudio by Alexis Fugain and Margaux Bouchaudon. Set in an isolated rural environment conducive to immersion, the band had seven days in the studio—significantly more than for previous records—allowing for greater care in the recording process, particularly for vocals and arrangements. Several tracks feature synthesizers and organs, acoustic guitar, and even an electric bass on “Sanctuary,” a first for Special Friend. Overall, the record benefits from a more developed and detailed production while preserving the band’s direct approach and spontaneity.

The album was mixed by Syd Kemp, who has worked with artists such as Thurston Moore, Ulrika Spacek, Caroline, Crack Cloud, and Vanishing Twin.
Special Friend’s previous album on Skep Wax, ‘Wait Until The Flames Come Rushing In’ was an underground hit, with a significant amount of airplay in the UK and in the US.
‘Clipping’ is a co-release with Howlin Banana Records and Hidden Bay Records (both in France). Skep Wax is proud to present the album in the UK and in North America.

MTY-3.14 “π”, released on March 14, 2026, is the fifth and final chapter of a journey begun fifteen years ago.



This standard edition presents the final form of Polar Inertia across three 12" vinyl records, featuring 11 tracks. Nothing added, nothing removed—only the music, unfolding in full.



Images dissolve, words fall away. What remains are faint echoes, like footprints slowly erased in fresh snow.



This final opus does not close the path. It fades into it. π is not an ending, but a state: the moment where movement continues, even as the world turns silent.



A last step.
A final trace.
Still moving, beneath the cold.



POLAR INERTIA



We are no one because we want to be no one,
And to be no one we have to be everywhere and nowhere- Polar Inertia examines the enigmatic and blurry realms, embracing the art of obscured vision.


Encountering the collective Polar Inertia is much like being absorbed by fog and captivated by its ever-shifting forms and densities, with things being as indistinguishable as in a whiteout.



Formed in 2010 by a group of artists, Polar Inertia transcends visibility, delving into structures that lie beyond the public gaze. Layers upon layers intertwine within the fabric of Polar Inertia, extending beyond their profound electronic compositions and live performances. It manifests as a conceptual universe, where sound, monochrome aesthetics, and elusive narratives converge, much like trying to grasp the intangible fog. The entity that is Polar Inertia is involved in installations, print- and video work and texts created for different contexts and live in different spheres such as Palais de Tokyo in Paris or the Lyon Biennale of Contemporary Art. Still, clubs and festivals are perfect spaces to experience these nebulous soundworlds and immerse in them. Fittingly, some of Polar Inertia’s appearances include the colossal halls of Berghain and Bassiani and at experimental festivals like Mutek Montreal and Atonal Berlin, that like to break with the classic club conventions.



Polar Inertia's sonic landscape unfolds with wafting textures accompanied by resonating beats and drones, reverberating through empty spaces, merging with the vast expanse of nothingness. Their sound exists at the crossroads of ambient, experimental, and deep techno, interwoven with vocal narratives. Since their inaugural release “Indirect Light“ on Dement3d Records in 2011, they remain a stronghold of relevance and captivation in the electronic domain.



Mastered by sixbitdeep, with artistic direction by Diplomatie Studio.

They also embraced a more organic, live- recording approach on Welcome to the Mood. The group explains, "Off the back of touring the last album, we had played more shows than ever and wanted to bring more of the live element into the process, so we didn't use drum breaks and loops as much as previous records and tracked live." They continued expanding their sound by bringing in specialist musicians -- string sections, brass, pianos, and backing vocalists -- pushing the sonic possibilities beyond their individual skill sets. Yet at its core, the album remains deeply personal. Written in remote hideaways, the songs carry the tranquility of escape while capturing a newfound confidence in emotional vulnerability.

Thematically, Welcome to the Mood is a rich sonic auditory tapestry woven with threads of authenticity, humanity, and creative celebration. Lyrically, the album explores universal experiences -- love, loss, connection, hope, and purpose -- drawn from the everyday yet rendered in LEISURE's distinct palette of lush tones and laidback groove. Tracks are anchored in realness but elevated by a sonic landscape that feels simultaneously nostalgic and futuristic, mirroring the ethos of Frank Lloyd Wright, whose Taliesin West provided literal and symbolic inspiration during the album's visual journey.

Represss!

Z Records continues its commitment to unearthing the obscure and
long forgotten tracks from the last 40 years through the ever-popular
Under The Influence series. Following on from Red Greg, Nick The
Record, Sean P, Faze Action, and last years Alena Arpels. It’s now the
turn of one of the scene’s most impressive collectors & DJs; Rahaan

Hailing from Chicago his love affair with muzik started in the late 70’s early 80’s, listening to muzik on the radio combined with his mom and dad playing their records every weekend. In the early 80’s on the South side of Chicago, he started hearing something a bit different, what they called ‘house muzik’. A combination of Disco, Jazz, Soul Funk, New Wave and Italo Disco. Here Rahaan digs deep into his impressive record collection that he has collected, built up and crafted over his many years of travelling, networking and DJin to showcase 22 of his finest and rarest cuts. Many of the tracks on the album would cost hundreds and that’s if you were even able to find the originals! As always with ZR compilations a lot of time and effort has been spent on creating these masters from the original vinyl, cleaning them up, removing all the clicks and pops resulting in the cleanest sounding copy possible.

Chalybeate documents a month long stay by Tokyo based producer aus in Ikaho, one of Japan's most established Onsen (hot spring) towns, during autumn 2024.

Working from field-recordings captured inside multiple ryokan baths, aus synthesized the subterranean movement of the onsen's with local details: the bubbling of source water, the hoozuki lantern plants and wind chimes placed at each inn, and the surrounding insects and birds. Rather than portraying Ikaho as a landscape, the recordings trace the town's respiration.

The material was first presented on site as an installation unfolding across eight different baths, where visitors listened while soaking in roten-buro (open air hot baths). The project drew wide attention for proposing listening as a bodily act, inseparable from heat, moisture, and duration.

Chalybeate re constructs that installation as an album. The recordings were left to sit for a year within Ikaho's air and humidity, allowing the sound itself to slowly change. The title refers to Ikaho's iron rich mineral water, known as "Golden Water," which oxidizes upon contact with air and leaves rust colored traces in its baths. Following this process, the album's sound was repeatedly re submerged and re worked, gradually absorbing a corroded texture.

Tape hiss, gentle distortion, and subtle fluctuations rise quietly, like steam.
What remains is not documentation but residue.

Mixing was handed over to Manchester based producer The Humble Bee by Craig Tattersall, known for his work with The Boats and The Remote Viewer, after aus exhausted himself traversing Ikaho's steep stone steps. The exchange mirrors the work itself: from bathtub to hot spring, from sound to something that surrounds the body.

Woodwind like tape noise and the movement of water dissolve into one another.
The music does not arrive all at once. It settles slowly, as if lowering into warm water.

Limited Green LP is for Indies only. all LPs include a DL card. Island Family is the fifth album from Isle-of-Eigg dwelling electro-acoustic psych-pop wonder Pictish Trail, AKA Johnny Lynch. A strange, unpredictable, sardonic and yet deeply personal record inspired by all from Fever Ray to The Flaming Lips, Liars, Mercury Rev and Beck, Island Family is Pictish Trail's contrarian view of arcadia; a search for the euphoric in the bucolic, bound up in sometimes conflicting ideas and feelings around nature and environment, sincerity and artifice, escapism and belonging. It's an album about how no man can remain an island, however hard he might try. Released by Fire Records, with support from Johnny's own label Lost Map, and produced by long-term collaborator Rob Jones (The Voluntary Butler Scheme, The Gene Dudley Group), 'Island Family' opens with its title track, a song of death, ghosts and the ties that bind, fusing abrasive electronic beats with a tongue-in-cheek fireside folk refrain and the haunted ice cream van melody of a digitally reincarnated traditional Scottish jig. A purgative surrender to nature's whim driven by a clattering machine drumbeat rolled in a puddle of filthy dirty fuzz, 'Natural Successor' is five-and-a-half-minutes of cathartic churning bass. 'In The Land of The Dead' is an eight-bit glitch-core reflection on island party excesses spasming into existential dread and regret, suitably accompanied by a funereal mariachi band. It's followed by the epic 'It Came Back', the understated verses and arms-aloft falsetto chorus of which are accompanied by a tense, foreboding bass-driven electro hip hop instrumental with (spoiler) a brain-shattering industrial-metal meltdown. 'Melody Something' is the album's purest moment, a cautiously uplifting solar-powered-ballad about losing track of time in the cycle of the seasons, and the gap between memory and reality. Shapeshifting closer 'Remote Control' is a channel hopping cabin-fever-dream flipping from warped boyband ballad to deep-fried fuzz pop. "One of my favourite artists" Lauren Laverne, BBC 6 Music

Very limited numbers, orders will need to be confirmed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steeped in nocturnal, death rock adventurism, riven with a post-punk anxiety that feels increasingly like the twitching heart of our modern age, and driven by hardcore punk intensity, the second studio album from Boston’s FINAL GASP, titled New Day Symptoms, does what all great rock records do - not only does it place itself within a lineage, summoning up and amplifying a spectrum of powers from Rock n' Roll lore, it makes them resonate in the here and now. It gives voice to those fears and frustrations lurking just under the surface of waking consciousness and turns them into a rallying cry. Throughout New Day Symptoms, FINAL GASP create a potent reaction from the furious and the forlorn, frontman Jake Murphy’s vocalizes both a supercharged howl into the void and a remorseful echo back. But where the band’s 2023 debut, Mourning Moon, was a concentrated shot of acrid, underground death rock, its propulsion tanks largely filled with references to Samhain and Killing Joke, New Day Symptoms keeps all the core urgent energy while vastly broadening its scope. Through the anthemic, acid-corroded vistas of "Look Away" and gothic tub-thumping beat of "Gifted Shame" to "No Hand To Lead" channelling "Don’t Fear The Reaper" and its loping groove, New Day Symptoms takes the familiar into uncharted territory and makes the unfamiliar instantly, internally recognisable. With new space to explore, this is an album that feels a mapping of personal trials and dark recesses. Short: Boston's FINAL GASP return with New Day Symptoms - the new album steeped in nocturnal, death rock adventurism, riven with a post-punk anxiety that feels increasingly like the twitching heart of our modern age, and driven by hardcore punk intensity! FFO: Danzig, Killing Joke, TSOL, Lathe of Heaven, Poison Ruin, Gouge Away, Tribulation

Pink Must is the duo project by Brooklyn based sound artists and musicians Mari 'More Eaze' Rubio and Lynn Avery. This self titled album is the debut release under the Pink Must umbrella.

Based on a long-standing artistic chemistry and shared love of genre-defying sounds, Pink Must started off as a remote grunge collaboration, with demos shared long-distance between New York and Texas. Over time, and especially since uniting in Brooklyn in 2023, the project evolved into its own animated soundspace, connecting raw imperfect textures with classic songwriting and a playful approach to both track instrumentation and lyrics.

The duo's production blends richness, glitches, and dissonant layers with drum and string arrangements in ways that subtly hint at influences like Stina Nordenstam and PJ Harvey. The record is tangled yet direct: fictional sketches of various situations, songs about love, change, decay, and even Mari's dog, Keith—all wrapped in signature guitar dreams and deadpan vocal lines.

Synthpop, minimal wave, post-punk, goth, new romantic - fans and critics alike have dug deeply into their vintage thesauruses to describe the beguiling work of Nation of Language. And if you can't precisely define the band, that's the point. Frontman Ian Richard Devaney has become prodigious in expanding what synthesizer-driven music can evoke, such that his output is as much an extrasensory journey as it is an all-too-human destination. With that experience in mind, he wrote the band's fourth album - the spectral, spacious Dance Called Memory - in the most humble of ways: chipping away at melancholia by sitting around and strumming his guitar. Nation of Language's first two albums, Introduction, Presence (2020), and A Way Forward (2021), came as pandemic godsends: gorgeous, relatable soundtracks to our collective doldrums. But it was their last LP, Strange Disciple (2023), that catapulted the group from cultural standouts to critical darlings, with the album being named Rough Trade's Album of the Year. With that release, Pitchfork wrote that the band "are learning what it means to get bigger and better." This is Devaney's calling: soulfully translating individual despair into a comforting, collective mourning. The single "Now That You're Gone," which radiates and reverberates with a devastating wistfulness, was inspired by witnessing his godfather's tragic death from ALS, and his parents' role as caretakers for this ailing friend. At its heart, the song is a reflection of how friends can be there for each other, and also highlights a theme throughout the record: the pain and lost promise of friendships that fall apart. On Dance Called Memory, the band once again collaborated with friend and Strange Disciple producer Nick Millhiser (LCD Soundsystem, Holy Ghost!). "What's so great about Nick is his ability to make us feel like we don't need to do what might be expected of us," says synth player Aidan Noell, who, along with bassist Alex MacKay, rounds out the Nation of Language lineup. They imbued Dance Called Memory with a shifted palette - sampling chopped-up drum breaks on "I'm Not Ready for the Change" for a touch of Loveless-era My Bloody Valentine or smashing all of the percussion of "In Another Life" through a synthesizer to cast a shade of early-2000s electronic music. Ultimately, the hope was to weave raw vulnerability and humanity into a synth-heavy album. "There is a dichotomy between the Kraftwerk school of thought and the Brian Eno school of thought, each of which I've been drawn to at different points. I've read about how Kraftwerk wanted to remove all the humanity from their music, but Eno often spoke about wanting to make synthesized music that felt distinctly human," Devaney says. "As much as Kraftwerk is a sonically foundational influence, with this record I leaned much more towards the Eno school of thought. In this era quickly being defined by the rise of AI supplanting human creators I'm focusing more on the human condition, and I need the underlying music to support that_ Instead of hopelessness, I want to leave the listener with a feeling of us really seeing one another, that our individual struggles can actually unite us in empathy."

Alex Rex, the project of acclaimed musician and former Trembling Bells bandleader Alex Neilson, is set to release his fourth and final studio album, The National Trust, on March 28th. Written in the wake of the sudden death of his younger brother, Alastair, the album is a poignant reflection on loss, love, and renewal, deeply rooted in the landscape of Carbeth—a cabin community in the Scottish countryside that Alastair called home. For Neilson, the cabin became both a physical and emotional project, a symbol of restoration and reconnection.

"For the first four years after Alastair died, his cabin lay empty and exposed to the remorseless Scottish weather. It came to look like a rotten tooth in a beautiful mouth. Cladding was dropping off its veneer, the ashen baubles of dead wasps nests clung to the rafters, all his possessions were just as he'd left them but eaten by mice, moths and time. Ashtrays still carried the crushed centimetres of his old tab ends. The cabins are so joyfully animated by their host's specific personality and this one looked like a haunted house. Guilt, unrealised hopes and encroaching nature yoked together in a wandering sadness. Combined with the fact that I didn't know the right way round to hold a hammer made the project of its restoration seem hopeless.”

Neilson, however, gradually began chipping away at the task, determined to transform the cabin into something he hoped would resemble “a National Trust site occupied by a psychopath,” with a little help from some friends, including Lavinia Blackwall and Marco Rea.

“They poured love into the cabin and helped restore Alastair's original vision. The project also helped restore my relationship with Lavinia which had fractured after Trembling Bells broke up in 2017. Alongside long-term Rex lieutenant Rory Haye, we applied the same intensity of dedication that we did in renovating the cabin, into creating The National Trust.”

As with Neilson’s previous albums, the recording process was intentionally unpolished, with songs presented in the studio with no rehearsals and captured in just a few takes. This raw, immediate approach amplifies the emotional weight of the album, which Neilson describes as being at a “personal apex of sour self-reflection, mock misanthropy, and self-exposure.” Longtime collaborators Lavinia Blackwall, Marco Rea, and Rory Haye return, alongside guest musicians like Jill O’Sullivan (Jill Lorean) and Trembling Bells guitarist Mike Hastings, to bring Neilson’s vision to life. The result is a deeply personal and multifaceted work, blending acid wit with haunting introspection.

The songs on The National Trust traverse a wide emotional and thematic range. The title track opens the album with a sharp and confessional edge, exploring love, loathing, and cultural critique with Neilson’s signature wit. “Boss Morris” pays tribute to the all-female Morris dancing troupe that reinvents British folk with vibrant energy, while “Two Kinds of Song” turns self-referential humour into an avalanche of remorse, culminating in the unforgettable chorus: “I’ve got two kinds of song. Which one will it be; one where I hate myself or one where you hate me?” Elsewhere, tracks like “Psychic Rome” draw from the decadence and hysteria of ancient Rome, while “The Coward in the Tower” breaks new ground as the only song Neilson has composed on an instrument before recording.

Throughout the album, Neilson’s lyricism is as vivid as ever, transforming personal tragedy into poignant and often darkly humorous art. Yet, there is a sense of finality to this work. "Songwriting has encouraged me to see the whole world as a resource. The things people say and throw away can be chiselled and polished and plopped into a lyric. It’s the same with building the cabin- scouring the edges of society for pallets, discarded wood, ornaments for the garden. But while song writing brings to life orphaned parts of my personality, the cabin is a synthesis of all my interests – nurturing my emotional health instead of exploiting it. With that in mind, I think this will be my last album as Alex Rex.”

With The National Trust, Neilson closes a significant chapter of his career, blending masterful musicianship with deeply personal storytelling. Known for his collaborations with artists such as Bonnie "Prince" Billy, Shirley Collins, and Current 93, as well as his decade-long tenure leading the psych-folk outfit Trembling Bells, Neilson has long been celebrated for his eclectic and uncompromising vision. This final album serves as a fitting culmination of his journey as Alex Rex, capturing the essence of his artistry while offering a profound exploration of loss, renewal, and the enduring power of love.

A chance meeting in Mexico City set Points of Inaccessibility into motion. When Ibero-American composer Rafael Anton Irisarri crossed paths with Dutch media artist Jaco Schilp at MUTEK in 2024, a conversation about how technology shapes perception revealed an unexpected common ground. Schilp invited Irisarri to a spring 2025 residency at Uncloud, the Utrecht-based collective he co-founded, where Irisarri's sound began to take form amid an environment shaped by Schilp’s visual research.

The Uncloud studio was located inside the former Pieter Baan Centre, a forensic psychiatric prison where suspects of violent crimes were once confined. Its long history of silence and containment shaped the atmosphere in which the project developed. Within this setting, Irisarri coaxed long bowed-guitar tones through a network of pedals and looping systems. The raw gestures thickened into a vaporous and architectural field of sound. Schilp processed the material through a custom point-cloud software patch that produced images in continuous flux. The visuals flickered, dissolved and reformed like memories that resist coherence, functioning as a digital Rorschach that reflected the observer’s own perception.

Amid these spectral echoes, the project evolved into an examination of how the past persists within present signals. Memory endures as residue and interference, continually shaping perception even when its source has faded.

Schilp’s visual process required a continuous stream of sound in real time. Irisarri improvised throughout the residency, generating material that allowed the visuals to develop in parallel. Once back in his New York studio, he began shaping the recordings by carving pathways through the improvisations and mapping selected passages into MIDI. This process allowed him to build outward from the bowed-guitar material with minimal overdubs, adding Prophet 5 textures, Moog bass and strings that expanded the harmonic field while keeping the original performances at the center. To refine the structure, Abul Mogard provided editorial input, working with Irisarri’s stems to guide transitions and strengthen the overall pacing. The material, originally created under conditions of immediacy and constraint, evolved into a fully realized work through careful revision, patience and sustained reworking.

The title engages the geographic concept of the Poles of Inaccessibility, locations defined solely by their distance from all surrounding points. Irisarri adapts this idea to the conditions of digital life, where new forms of inaccessibility arise through the informational enclosures that structure perception. What appears to be a fully connected network often produces a deeper kind of separation, one shaped by the filtering logic of the systems that mediate experience. In this sense, the digital sphere mirrors its geographic counterpart. We inhabit spaces saturated with signals, yet the possibility of genuine contact becomes increasingly remote.

At its core, Points of Inaccessibility considers what can be understood as the new rituals of capitalist realism. Irisarri uses the term digital shamanism to describe the forms of simulated connection that organize contemporary life. These systems promise comfort through algorithms, influencers and AI interlocutors, yet they often reproduce the same conditions that generate loneliness in the first place. What appears as connection becomes the echo of connection, a sequence of gestures that imitate solidarity while withholding it. Like the geographic poles, these rituals are defined by distance. They pull us into environments where everything is illuminated, yet meaningful proximity becomes increasingly rare. In this sense, the work approaches a hauntology of the present, a reflection on futures that have stalled and intimacies that have been thinned by the algorithmic infrastructures that surround us.

This thematic tension unfolds across the album’s four movements. Faded Ghosts of Clouds introduces the work with textures that rise and dissipate in slow cycles, creating an atmosphere that resists clear definition. Breaking the Unison occupies a pivotal position in the sequence and focuses on the moment when the individual and the system fall out of alignment. Its shifting patterns trace the scattering of signals that once suggested connection, revealing the instability at the heart of contemporary perception. Signals from a Distant Afterglow forms the center of the album and features vocals by Karen Vogt, whose presence enters the sound field like a fragile transmission shaped by distance and delay. The closing piece, Memory Strands, follows motifs that appear, recede and briefly intersect before returning to quiet. Across these movements, the album outlines a landscape in which emergence and disappearance continually inform one another.

Listening to Points of Inaccessibility is an encounter with a sound field that is constantly in flux. Elements surface briefly, shift position and recede, creating a sense of motion that resists stable interpretation. The music moves between closeness and vastness, carrying traces of memory while withholding a clear point of resolution.

The album’s visual identity completes the project’s conceptual arc. In Mexico City, where Irisarri and Schilp first met, Daniel Castrejón transformed stills from Schilp’s point-cloud visuals into the cover image. The final artwork captures a single suspended frame of the digital material, a moment extracted from a field that is normally in constant motion. Its surface recalls the texture and abstraction found in the work of Catalan artist Antoni Tàpies, where material presence and erasure coexist within the same plane.

What emerges is a work that examines the tension between technological systems and human presence. Points of Inaccessibility asks whether connection is still possible within environments shaped by mediation and delay, or whether we have become isolated points within the very networks that promise proximity. What possibilities for relation persist within environments organized by algorithms and interruption? And how are we meant to understand presence when so much of it is constructed at a distance?

Points of Inaccessibility will be released on BioVinyl on February 6, 2026, with audiovisual performances planned throughout 2026.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Artwork by Jaco Schilp
Design and layout by Daniel Castrejón
Artist photo by Iulia Alexandra Magheru.

Explicit isolation is the third album by the international collective E/I, led by composer and percussionist Szymon Pimpon Gąsiorek. The group’s seven core members came together while studying at Copenhagen’s Rhythmic Music Conservatory and the Royal Danish Academy of Music. For this latest release, they are joined by Slovenian musicians Samo Kutin (hurdy-gurdy) and Kaja Draksler (organ), alongside Danish tuba player Rasmus Svale.

The three compositions distill sound down to its essential elements, drifting freely through space. The material is minimal, moving in the geological rhythm of endless cycles of tension and release, formation and dissolution, density and lightness. Pimpon acts here more as a guide than a creator with a master plan. He is a navigator, leading us to the most crucial moments where sonic emissions merge into vibrating drones, building to an inevitable leap—an explosion after which the particles rearrange themselves once again. It feels like futuristic temple music infused with intergalactic spiritual jazz, the extensions of drone music, and acoustic ambient textures, all highlighted by the jolly grin of the navigator.

“I wrote the scores and asked each of the musicians to record their parts individually. What’s interesting for me about doing it this way is that it removes the element of immediate interaction and introduces a factor of randomness. I then edited and mixed it myself, also adding my own parts. Previously, it was strictly acoustic music, and the recordings were ‘live,’ meaning they were captured in one room at the same time, with no subsequent edits.” Pimpon has also incorporated electronics, which make the album even more airy and organically complement the sounds of the hurdy-gurdy and organ, recorded in Trboje, the small Slovenian village.