Cerca:repeat repeat

Superb Gatefold delux editioon of a magic ambient to ambient-core sound... Ritch and conceptual music... Out from the fields and upper than any montaign... this is This tale is written inside the gatefold : The Bandiagara Escarpement unravels for more than 400.000 hectares, multitude of sandstone cliffs and plateaus, ravines and caverns. A West African area of unique and exceptional beauty also known as the Land of Dogon.


Summer night is fading away when the Hogon Kalapodis stands up abruptly after days completely motionless staring at the stars through the openings of the Kukulu Kommo Cave. Time has come. The heliacal rising of Sirius is getting nearer. Aware of the power of the word to bring everything into existence by naming, the Hogon reaches with a resolute pace the Polio Kommo Plain where his ancestors wrote in stone the past and future of mankind. There he finds the Awa fully deployed in two lines, the oldest standing and the others sitting before them. Dressed with braids of dyed fibers and embroidered with cowry shells, figures of mythological beings, humans, animals hold the painted wooden masks tightly between their teeth. Behind them, the whole tribe stood around the rock ark in the kanaga position : legs well planted in the sandstone, arms waving to the lightening sky.
Just a nod and Nogod, the most skilled percussionist, starts a solo on his Gom Boy. First he keeps on repeating over and over the same obsessive pattern and then, squeezing the leather chords of the talking drum with arm and body, he modulates the frequency produced with the beats originating from the rest of the tribe. The last Dama has just begun.

The end of the mourning ritual is now looming over the cliff. Hundreds of Boy Na and Boy Tolo and Gom Boys jam together with bells and bullroarers and all the singers. The masked crews jump and dance quickly in sonic belligerence and the faster they cross one another, the more the rhythm accelerates.
Drumming gets supersonic. No longer possible to detect a percussive sound, only a single powerful Black Drone. Super fast music becomes super slow.


In the light of dawn, looking at the horizon, Sigui Sirius A Tolo is now rising. Also its dark companion Po Sirius B Tolo is over there and far away a new New form is taking shape. Nogod standing right at the middle of the vibing tribe, whispers sweetly something but somehow in all that rumble everybody hears clearly the name : S………I………R………I………U………S………C

COLOURED EDITION

Autumns Meets Post-Punkers Uptown. A couple of years after the Dyslexia Tracks EP, and following a volley of killer releases on labels such as iDEAL, Death & Leisure and Opal Tapes, Autumns returns to Touch Sensitive with perhaps his most complete set to date. Pitching down the BPM but maintaining the intensity of his recent recorded output and incendiary live shows, Dyslexia Sound System sees Christian Donaghey turn the edit on himself with a grip of eight dub-wave zingers. Pulling from his love of On-U Sound, The Pop Group, and Public Image Limited, Dyslexia Sound System perfectly fuses dubbed-out dynamics with the tough and unrelenting electronics that has become Autumns' signature sound. Guitars squall, clarinets skronk, vocals echo, roto-toms repeat and - as always with Autumns - rhythm is king. Dyslexia Sound System is the sickest handbrake turn in Autumns' relentless and wired journey to date. Ltd. 250 vinyl. Mastered by The Bastard. Cut by Kitaro at Schnittstelle. Artwork by Rinky. Forthcoming Press: Ransom Note Premiere The Thin Air Premiere The Quietus Review Previous Highlights Radio/Mix/DJ play: Trevor Jackson, Ruf Dug, Regis, Broken English Club Gig / Tour Highlights: Playing with Wire, Beak>, Silent Servant, Veronica Vasicka 2016 performance at Paris Fashion Week for Downwards Records w/ Samuel Kerridge Recent online performance as part of Ireland's Celtronic Festival w/ Gerd Janson, Move D, David Holmes, Space Dimension Controller Previous Releases: Downwards Records, iDeal, Opal Tapes, Death & Leisure (Broken English Club)

Wait for Me is the compelling new album by Snowpoet, created by Irish vocalist and lyricist Lauren Kinsella and producer Chris Hyson. After their hugely successful release of 2018 Thought You Knew, this fourth body of work is a bold, flowing statement offering a mantra evocation to explore the deeper questions of how we love, how we accept our faults and how we let go in a time of profound confusion. With storytelling at its core and impeccable taste they weave their signature and evocative hook-like melodies, rich harmonic movements, flutters of emotive sung-spoken singing and thick, rich production to create an album that suggests repeated listening.

Still only 29 years old when composing and recording this album, Kjetil Mulelid is one of the brightest talents in Norwegian jazz, and these days that really says something. In Kjetil's childhood home they had a subscription for a "Classical Masterpieces" CD collection. One that especially caught his attention, and would be played repeatedly, included the most melodic piano music of Beethoven, Chopin and Debussy. At the same time his elder brother introduced him to "old" rock like Led Zeppelin and Queen, winning him over and getting him interested in the guitar rather than the piano. When he later applied to music education in high school with electric guitar as his main instrument, the teachers asked if he played other instruments. He duly played a song on the piano, and heard nothing more of it. Months later, thinking he was enrolled as a guitarist, he was (to his horror) introduced to the class as a pianist. While he loved listening to classical piano music, playing it he felt tied up in the "rules" and the sheet music. It was simply more fun to play rock music on electric guitar_ surely a familiar story! Later a classically trained piano teacher played him some gospel and boogie woogie and introduced him to some simple pentatonic hooks on a C major blues. He hadn't really touched the piano in a very long time, but the same night he started experimenting and improvising around what she had shown him, and from that moment he was all into the piano and would dig further into improvisation and jazz. And the rest is history, as they say. Kjetil was sceptical when we first suggested a solo piano record back in early 2018, but the idéa slowly grew on him and when the pandemic exploded and other plans had to be scrapped, he suddenly had the time as well as the means to do it. So the bulk of the album was written in a hectic lockdown period and recorded on a steaming hot June day in the legendary Athletic Sound studio on their unique and characteristic Bösendorfer grand piano from 1919. Of the piano Kjetil says the sound is one of a kind, very clear and not typically "perfect" like most new ones. We can only wholeheartedly agree, it sounds great and is also very well recorded and mixed, giving the impression that you sit next to him, and not in a concert hall. In turn joyful, playful and elegant, the album fully shows Kjetil's harmonic and melodic mastery and the influence from those early introductions to the classical masters. Whether staying with the tune or taking off on improvised flights, there is an ease and assurance in his playing that betrays his young age.Kjetil has a bachelor degree in jazz performance from NTNU in Trondheim, has played in most European countries, Japan and USA, released two acclaimed albums with his trio on Rune Grammofon, and is also a member of Wako.

Mesmeric and kaleidoscopic, shimmering with electrified unease, Show Me How You Disappear is both an exercise in self-forgiveness and an eventual understanding of unresolved trauma. Jilian Medford’s third record as IAN SWEET unfolds at an acute juncture in her life, charting from a mental health crisis to an intensive healing process and what comes after. How do you control the thoughts that control you? What does it mean to get better? What does it mean to have a relationship with yourself?

Recorded with Andrew Sarlo (Big Thief, Empress Of) and Andy Seltzer (Maggie Rogers), among others, Medford approached this album as a curator. She handpicked the producers that fit each song, which explains the range and experimentation showcased. Medford then recruited Chris Coady to mix and tie everything together into one cohesive piece.

Dizzying and enthralling, Show Me How You Disappear is the sound of someone coming apart and putting themselves back together — the moment an old mantra, repeated into the mirror time and time again, finally clicks. To look at your reflection, and finally feel seen.

Originally recorded and released in 1980, "Six of One" beautifully captures the detail in Evan Parker's high frequency split tones for which he is now perhaps better known. Five years on from "Saxophone Solos" and with circular breathing and polyphonics well worn into his live performances, Parker's experimentations here produce sustained passages of brilliant flight. Set into the echoes and resonances of St Judes On The Hill church, the results are stunning. "The recital commences with a split tone line of twining sine waves that expand and contract in telepathic collusion. Pitch dynamics narrow and redefine themselves more emphatically on the second piece where sliding legato rivulets born of Parker's compartmentalized tonguing create the sonic semblance of up to three separate voices emanating from the single reed speech center. It's a feat he's accomplished innumerable times since, but every fresh hearing never fails to open an aperture into a style of improvisatory expression that is at once wholly alien and intensely mesmerizing. There's also something strangely subterranean about the flood of sounds, like the rush percolating water through an underground aquifer system enroute to unknown tributaries. The third piece trades tightly braided tones for leaner and more linear phrases, but a vaporous trail of phantom notes still clings to the central line. And so it goes, with the illusion of repetition guiding the momentum, though Parker never explicitly repeats himself." - Derek Taylor, All About Jazz Transferred from the original master tapes at Abbey Road Studios and released in an edition of 500.

As Dense & Pika, Alex Jones and Chris Spero have garnered an enviable reputation for making devastating club ordnance that finds the sweet spot between dark, mysterious house and roaring, brawny techno. With over a decade of material under their belt, Jones and Spero are set to release their first studio length debut album, ‘Colour Burn’ via London major imprint BMG on 4th December, home to the likes of Leftfield, The Prodigy, Holy Ghost and Faithless.

‘Colour Burn’ is a 13-track composition crossing through downtempo house and electronica, built as a conceptual sonic representation of the pair’s live audio and visual set up. The album is a step away from harder and faster material and a move towards a more leftfield sonic trajectory, featuring a handful of impressive heavyweight features of Jones & Spero’s musical heroes who have informed the Dense & Pika output.

Released today, album moment ‘Honey’ features the master of sensual, slow-burn techno, Matthew Dear whose contribution to ‘Honey’ arrives in vocal form – a breathy, brooding ensemble of spoken word that glues perfectly with the duo’s trademark rough and textured sound palette. It helps turn what Alex calls “a headsy, dusty piece of housey tech” into something sensual and otherworldly.

Dark and smouldering, it seems to the suck the air out of the room like a tightly packed subterranean dancefloor deep in the throes of night. Glitched out percussion and fizzling hi-hats feel caustic against the track’s low-end frequencies. The thumping bassline and kick drum combination delivers punch and pressure to the mix in a true Dense & Pika format. Matthew’s sauntering vocal contribution guides the track into a deep and hypnotic groove well equipped for any late-night excursion. “The boys sent over a lengthy jam, but there was that simple loop that stood out and had me hooked. I put it on repeat and let the mind and pen wander. It’s a bit of cosmic abandonment, brazenly sung by a professional of the night.” Matthew Dear

Elsewhere on the LP, standout track ‘Hidden’ features the drums of Sepultura’s legendary metal icon Igor Cavalera resulting in a fabulous frenzy of percussion and driving rhythm. The equally momentous and unforgettable ‘Control’ features the heavily robotic vocoder of Leftfield’s Neil Barnes aiding and abetting in its quest to be a high-octane, twisted rave jam.

The impressive features on ‘Colour Burn’ are an insight into the hugely artistic and visionary A&R skills of Alex and Chris and the start of a new chapter for Dense & Pika kicking off with the long-awaited release of their first studio length album.

For a band that resists repeating itself, picking up lessons from a decade prior is the strange route Cloud Nothings took to create their most fully-realized album. Their new record, The Shadow I Remember, marks eleven years of touring, a return to early songwriting practices, and revisiting the studio where they first recorded together.

In a way not previously captured, this album expertly combines the group’s pummeling, aggressive approach with singer-songwriter Dylan Baldi’s extraordinary talent for perfect pop. To document this newly realized maturity, the group returned to producer Steve Albini and his Electrical Audio studios in Chicago, where the band famously destroyed its initial reputation as a bedroom solo project with the release of 2012 album Attack on Memory.

Another throwback was Baldi’s return to constant songwriting à la the early solo days, which led to the nearly 30 demos that became the 11 songs on The Shadow I Remember. Instead of sticking to a tried-but-true formula, his songwriting stretched out while digging deeper into his melodic talents. “I felt like I was locked in a character,” Baldi says of becoming a reliable supplier of heavy, hook-filled rock songs. “I felt like I was playing a role and not myself. I really didn’t like that role.” More frequent writing led to the freedom in form heard on The Shadow I Remember. What he can’t do alone is get loud and play noisily, which is exactly what happened when the entire band— bassist TJ Duke, guitarist Chris Brown, and drummer Jayson Gerycz—convened.

The band had more fun in the studio than they’ve had in years, playing in their signature, pulverizing way, while also trying new things. The absurdly catchy “Nothing Without You” includes a first for the band: Macie Stewart of Ohmme contributes guest vocals. Elsewhere, celebrated electronic composer Brett Naucke adds subtle synthesizer parts.

The songs are kept trim, mostly around the three-minute mark, while being gleefully overstuffed. Almost every musical part turns into at least two parts, with guitar and drums opening up and the bass switching gears. “That’s the goal—I want the three-minute song to be an epic,” Baldi says. “That’s the short version of the long-ass jam.”

Lyrically, Baldi delivers an aching exploration of tortured existence, punishing self-doubt, and the familiar pangs of oppressive mystery. “Am I something?” Baldi screams on the song of the same name. “Does anybody living out there really need me?” It’s a heartbreaking admission of existential confusion, delivered hoarsely, with an instantly relatable melody.

“Is this the end/ of the life I've known?” he asks on lead single and album opener “Oslo.” “Am I older now/ or am I just another age?” Despite the questioning lyrics, the band plays with more assurance and joy than ever before. The Shadow I Remember announces Cloud Nothings’ second decade and it sounds like a new beginning.

For a band that resists repeating itself, picking up lessons from a decade prior is the strange route Cloud Nothings took to create their most fully-realized album. Their new record, The Shadow I Remember, marks eleven years of touring, a return to early songwriting practices, and revisiting the studio where they first recorded together.

In a way not previously captured, this album expertly combines the group’s pummeling, aggressive approach with singer-songwriter Dylan Baldi’s extraordinary talent for perfect pop. To document this newly realized maturity, the group returned to producer Steve Albini and his Electrical Audio studios in Chicago, where the band famously destroyed its initial reputation as a bedroom solo project with the release of 2012 album Attack on Memory.

Another throwback was Baldi’s return to constant songwriting à la the early solo days, which led to the nearly 30 demos that became the 11 songs on The Shadow I Remember. Instead of sticking to a tried-but-true formula, his songwriting stretched out while digging deeper into his melodic talents. “I felt like I was locked in a character,” Baldi says of becoming a reliable supplier of heavy, hook-filled rock songs. “I felt like I was playing a role and not myself. I really didn’t like that role.” More frequent writing led to the freedom in form heard on The Shadow I Remember. What he can’t do alone is get loud and play noisily, which is exactly what happened when the entire band— bassist TJ Duke, guitarist Chris Brown, and drummer Jayson Gerycz—convened.

The band had more fun in the studio than they’ve had in years, playing in their signature, pulverizing way, while also trying new things. The absurdly catchy “Nothing Without You” includes a first for the band: Macie Stewart of Ohmme contributes guest vocals. Elsewhere, celebrated electronic composer Brett Naucke adds subtle synthesizer parts.

The songs are kept trim, mostly around the three-minute mark, while being gleefully overstuffed. Almost every musical part turns into at least two parts, with guitar and drums opening up and the bass switching gears. “That’s the goal—I want the three-minute song to be an epic,” Baldi says. “That’s the short version of the long-ass jam.”

Lyrically, Baldi delivers an aching exploration of tortured existence, punishing self-doubt, and the familiar pangs of oppressive mystery. “Am I something?” Baldi screams on the song of the same name. “Does anybody living out there really need me?” It’s a heartbreaking admission of existential confusion, delivered hoarsely, with an instantly relatable melody.

“Is this the end/ of the life I've known?” he asks on lead single and album opener “Oslo.” “Am I older now/ or am I just another age?” Despite the questioning lyrics, the band plays with more assurance and joy than ever before. The Shadow I Remember announces Cloud Nothings’ second decade and it sounds like a new beginning.

‘Little Oblivions’ is the third studio album by Julien Baker. Recorded in Memphis, TN, the record weaves together unflinching autobiography with assimilated experience and hard-won observations from the past few years, taking Baker’s capacity for storytelling to new heights.
It also marks a sonic shift, with the songwriter’s intimate piano and guitar arrangements newly enriched by bass, drums, keyboards, banjo and mandolin, with nearly all of the instruments performed by Baker.

Long awaited vinyl reissue of NWWs classic 3rd album. This blue vinyl version. Is exclusive to Cargo. Packaged in an outer sleeve that replicates the original United Dairies issue and has a brand-new Steven Stapleton designed full colour insert. Info: ollowing disagreements amongst the founding NWW trio over To the Quiet Men from a Tiny Girl, Steven Stapleton returned to the studio without Heman Pathak or John Fothergill to create something that more closely fulfilled his vision of what Nurse With Wound should be. The results are often cited as the first great NWW album, with Rolf Semprebon at Allmusic stating that it constitutes "the first fully realized NWW record....a far more mature effort than its predecessors, much more focused and sounding less like some stoned guys goofing off in the studio". There is a more extensive use of tape editing and audio collage on Merzbild Schwet than was found on the preceding releases, a strategy that would become Stapleton's signature sound on the albums that followed. There is also the overt use of humour; the sound of a repeated loud vinyl pop being included at the beginning of "Futurismo", initially creating the impression that the record is in some way damaged, accelerates to such a speed that it becomes obvious that it is part of the composition (the impact of this device losing relevance on subsequent cassette and CD editions).

The five members of Sun June spent their early years spread out across the United States, from the boonies of the Hudson Valley to the sprawling outskirts of LA. Having spent their college years within the gloomy, cold winters of the North East, Laura Colwell and Stephen Salisbury found themselves in the vibrant melting-pot of inspiration that is Austin, Texas. Meeting each other while working on Terrence Malick's 'Song to Song', the pair were immediately taken by the city's bustling small clubs and honky-tonk scene, and the fact that there was always an instrument within reach, always someone to play alongside. Coming alive in this newly discovered landscape, Colwell and Salisbury formed Sun June alongside Michael Bain on lead guitar, Sarah Schultz on drums, and Justin Harris on bass and recorded their debut album live to tape, releasing it via the city's esteemed Keeled Scales label in 2018. The band coined the term 'regret pop' to describe the music they made on the 'Years' LP. Though somewhat tongue in cheek, it made perfect sense ~ the gentle sway of their country leaning pop songs seeped in melancholy, as if each subtle turn of phrase was always grasping for something just out of reach. Sun June returns with Somewhere, a brand new album, out February 2021. It's a record that feels distinctly more present than its predecessor. In the time since, Colwell and Salisbury have become a couple, and it's had a profound effect on their work; if Years was about how loss evolves, Somewhere is about how love evolves. "We explore a lot of the same themes across it," Colwell says, "but I think there's a lot more love here." Somewhere is Sun June at their most decadent, a richly diverse album which sees them exploring bright new corners with full hearts and wide eyes. Embracing a more pop-oriented sound the album consists of eleven beautiful new songs and is deliberately more collaborative and fully arranged: Laura played guitar for the first time; band members swapped instruments, and producer Danny Reisch helped flesh out layers of synth and percussion that provides a sweeping undercurrent to the whole thing. Throughout Somewhere you can hear Sun June blossom into a living-and-breathing five-piece, the album formed from an exploratory track building process which results in a more formidable version of the band we once knew. 'Real Thing' is most indicative of this, a fully collaborative effort which encompasses all of the nuances that come to define the album. "Are you the real thing?" Laura Colwell questions in the song's repeated refrain. "Honey I'm the real thing," she answers back. They've called this one their 'prom' record; a sincere, alive-in-the-moment snapshot of the heady rush of love. "The prom idea started as a mood for us to arrange and shape the music to, which we hadn't done before," the band explains. " Prom isn't all rosy and perfect. The songs show you the crying in the bathroom,, the fear of dancing, the joy of a kiss - all the highs and all the lows." It's in both those highs and lows where Somewhere comes alive. Laura Colwell's voice is mesmerising throughout, and while the record is a document of falling in love, there's still room for her to wilt and linger, the vibrancy of the production creating beautiful contrasts for her voice to pull us through. Opening track 'Bad With Time' sets this tone from the outset, both dark and mysterious, sad and sultry as it fascinatingly unrolls. "I didn't mean what I said," Colwell sings. "But I wanted you to think I did." Somewhere showcases a gentle but eminently pronounced maturation of Sun June's sound, a second record full of quiet revelation, eleven songs that bristle with love and longing. It finds a band at the height of their collective potency, a marked stride forward from the band that created that debut record, but also one that once again is able to transport the listener into a fascinating new landscape, one that lies somewhere between the town and the city, between the head and the heart; neither here nor there, but certainly somewhere.

one of englands rarest privately pressed progressive lps, isolation is barely known and generally misunderstood. its a concept lp tackling the sense of loneliness and loss after the breakup of a relationship, and was performed with an accompanying experimental film which has miraculously survived. the film is 18 minutes long in glorious black and white, the use of shadow is very akin to the work of Alexandr Hackenschmied and Maya Derren, and follows a beautiful young woman from a London Railway Station on a train journey to a country field. The lp has fantastic compositions of melodic progressive rock with a repeated Theme and returns to the lines "And now theres nothing" throughout.

Past Inside The Present is pleased to announce Repetition Hymns, a double album from the enigmatic Black Swan. Comprised of 19 vignettes, the relatively short tracks impart a strong forward momentum despite the 80-minute runtime. Repetition Hymns is thus particularly well-suited to the temporal distortion of quarantine, in which each day feels like an endless repeating loop. Our bleeding hearts are in need of drone like never before. In the decade since the release of In 8 Movements, Black Swan's 2010 debut, the anonymous producer has built a reputation for his unique brand of tape-based symphonic drones. While the author behind the moniker remains hidden, Black Swan is still able to surprise and captivate. The dark symphonic deconstructions of those early works have slowly evolved, making space for lighter textures and tranquil meditations on sound, expanding the palette of tones while staying true to an identity in flux.

2015. Two boys with guitars on their chests, stretching songwriting muscles and finding, to their delight, new possibilities at every run up the neck. This means trading vocal parts mid-song, then trading back again, modulating madly through rhythm changes, looking for a note in the harmony they’d never played or sung before. All in the service of locating the feelgood pop alchemy in a song in which no parts are repeated. Laying it all down with a sweet solid state vibe.
“Whatever happened to ‘She’s a Beam’!?!” has been a question/passive-aggressive demand from Ty and Cory aficionados over the past few years. This is what happened. It went to Heaven and lived a beautiful life there. This is the sound of it. Guitars and harmonies. Helium-coated keyboards. A celestial, Steve Millerish synth transformation. Positivity. Lightness. Rock. Epic. Energetic. Happy, headbanging days.
‘Milk Bird Flyer’ is a perfect other ‘A’ to pair with ‘She’s a Beam’, hovering on a fade-in fanfare of gleaming guitar godness before shifting into a countryish tripper with cheerful Psilo-sci-fi-bin lyrics to bend and stretch the ecstatic shuffle of the beat. As with ‘She’s a Beam’, Ty and Cory are floating so tight in the harmony that we’re like “Who’s who?”
The pure sounds of yesterday are bright like a moment in time just waiting for its chance to exist, a nugget of potency landing right between the eyes in any era. Turn it up and smile, smile, smile.

In a time where everyone from Whitney Houston to Frank Zappa have been re-created in hologram form, where Grimes recently suggested in an interview that “we were at the end of human art”; there could scarcely be a better time for genre-shifting Leeds-based six-piece Team Picture to bring forth the thrillingly expansive synth-pop opus of their debut album The Menace of Mechanical Music.

Inspired by an early 20th century essay under the same name by American marching band leader John Philip Sousa, Team Picture take a look at the automation of creativity on this, their first record with a fully settled line up. Themes centre around the value of creative identity in an automated age, the increasingly disposable nature of art and where that leaves its creators. At twelve songs split into a three-part suite; The Menace of Mechanical Music is emphatically maximalist.

Tracks like the breathy, twinkling Flowerpots, Electric Beds and Handsome Machines’ Icarus-like striving for the sun are an antidote to a music world awash with digital production manipulation and songs written to algorithm. In debating the loosening of the human grip on creativity, Team Picture have poured every last drop of emotion into the recording process.

The group’s now trademark three-way vocal delivery and blurring of textures takes on new structure and purpose. They’ve always had a self-awareness to themselves, too. Initially grouped in with the guitar psych crowd, thanks to their fledgling repeato-rock, they were quick to disassociate themselves from that on 2018's mini-album Recital. With The Menace of Mechanical Music, they expand their sound further still, pirouetting from the likes of Sleeptype Auction – which glimmers like a late 80’s 4AD artefact – through various FX-laden dreamscapes, to the squelchy post-punk of closer Quit Reading. Yet the group were as much influenced by the work of the Early Netherlandish painter Hieronymus Bosch, and his triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights, as they were music touchstones ranging from Kate Bush, Cass McCombs and The Cure.

It’s Sousa words that resonate most deeply within the record however: “The fears of Sousa echo the fears of today's musician,” says Lewis of the late band leader’s 1907 text. “The re-appropriation of funds and support that the artist needs to survive, the gradual erosion of musicianship and self-improvement, that art will become disposable, and that our cultural identity will disappear.”

Recorded with producer Matt Peel (W.H Lung, Eagulls), half the group were unemployed during the session and a daily routine would see them undertake universal credit meetings and job interviews in the morning, before heading to the studio to work into the night. “It was an anxious process but an enjoyable one” says the band’s guitarist Josh Lewis. Indeed, beyond the increasingly golden gated idea of ‘making it’ as an artist, this new album is simply about surviving as one.
Sousa’s vision of a society that had deferred to automation, where babies were rocked to sleep by wheels and pulleys, and people no longer played piano with their own hands. Well over 100 years later and on the precipice of a technological shift never seen before, The Menace of Mechanical Music is the most human response that Team Picture could have given.

Fabrizio Lapiana continues to offer up deep musical escape from these troubling times with another expertly crafted techno EP, Cantamen, on his own Attic Music label. It features four of his own original cuts and builds on the success of his latest release, Collective Chaos, back in March.

For more than a decade, this Italian artist has been at the forefront of a techno scene that deals in deep and rolling drums, well sculpted synths and cavernous grooves that are rich in ambient detail. His Attic Music label has been at the centre of that thanks to careful A&R and always innovative releases, while he has also released on cult imprints such as M_Rec Ltd, ARTS, Figure Jams and Out-Er and many other collaborations.

Sleek opener 'Demons' is a mind melting and widescreen deep techno groove. Groaning synths creep across the face of the track as all manner of earthy and organic motifs drift by, as if you're racing through an underground network of caves. It's music for the mind as well as the body, and the hugely atmospheric 'Cantamen' is just the same - fizzing synth details and alien life forms fill the airwave with tension as the smooth and supple kick drums pound away down below.

The hypnotic masterclass continues on 'Kura' with rattling snares and harder hitting drums making you move your body before coarse claps and a majestic arpeggiated synth hook repeats up top and takes you to another level of rapture. Last of all is the fantastic 'Back Home', which has a skeletal electro groove run through with late night sci-fi pads. Its vast sense of cosmic infinity leaves you feeling floating adrift amongst the stars.

These are four evocative and cinematic techno tracks that take you into another dimension.

Red Marbled Vinyl

WEBUILDMACHINES presents “Machines of Deliverance”, a limited edition various artist LP celebrating 50 releases of evolutionary, multi-layered, experimental electronic music and contemporary techno. Offering an expansive stylistic palette from around the world, the artists presented embrace the ethos of the label’s past, present, and future with eight tracks of cinematic, industrial-themed, techno. Suited for the dance floor and repeated listening, with meticulously crafted sound design and precision programming throughout, this release is a unique and inspired addition to the WEBUILDMACHINES catalog. A Side: Headless Horseman (Berlin, DE) – Shift in Time Tunnel (Minneapolis, US) – Everything is Changing Opus Daemonii (Chicago, US) – Quantum Rift Axkan (Los Angeles, US) – Empty B Side: SKD (Riga, LV) – Hellbound in Paradise Sramaana (Lyon, FR) – Sicmundus C-KAY (Tokyo, JP) – Time to Crumble Soseol (Seoul, KR) – Volnost (DIGI ONLY) Faceless (Shanghai, CN) – Four Over Three Linbo (Shanghai, CN) – Falsity Became Our Sport Mastered by Gio at Artefacts Mastering / Berlin Artwork by R. Miller