Search:repetition repetition

Possibly one of the best Mental Groove releases to date. Symbols & Sacrifice is raw, beastly, and savage — a cinematic and esoteric journey from the depths of Sindaco’s universe. A masterfully crafted experience across four sides, this release blurs the lines between ritual electronics, hypnotic repetition, and uncompromising raw techno. A powerful and immersive statement, pressed on audiophile-grade vinyl for full heavy sonic impact.

Under the name of Sindaco is hidden a complex yet mysterious project where different styles and cultures live together.Obscure kraut rock, no wave, black metal and Detroit techno collide in what can be considered songs more than simple tracks. All is played by Sindaco with analog equipment without the help of computers. All is driven to create the best soundrack possible. The idea is to avoid all the typical cliches of the contemporary electronic productions and push the boundaries into a new way of tropical futurism. Be involved by the unespected waves of sounds coming from another world!

Mole Audio 08 is coming up, and we’re proud to welcome RSCA with their debut release.

RSCA is a collaborative project by Eduardo de la Calle and Aureal, born from a shared vision to expand the boundaries of techno into a more minimalist, abstract, and experimental territory.

Driven by the use of analog machines, the duo delves into hypnotic repetition, rich sonic textures, and the pursuit of both a physical and emotional experience through sound.

RSCA invites listeners into a deep, sensory journey, where rhythm transforms into a medium for introspection and connection.

Joel Shearer’s Listening Immerses Itself in Ambient Guitar, Restraint, and the Beauty of Repetition

With guitarist and ambient composer Joel Shearer’s new album, Listening, he took the path of repetition, subtle movement, and pure sound rather than conventional songwriting. What began as a disciplined experiment — limiting himself to just electric guitar — soon expanded. At various points, he introduced piano, cello, and trumpet, allowing the record to evolve organically. "I didn’t know I was making another record,” Shearer says. “I was experimenting, wanting to do something beyond just the electric guitar. So, I started these other tracks, and that’s how Listening came about.”

Unlike albums built around hooks or dramatic shifts, Listening unfolds gradually, moving with patience and restraint. There are no choruses, no obvious climaxes — just sound evolving over time. “Instead of a traditional song structure with a verse, chorus, or B section, it’s one continuous movement that grows and dissolves,” Shearer explains. “It’s not about anticipating the next moment—it’s about sitting inside the sound, getting comfortable with patience.” A Topanga-based session musician, composer, and producer, Shearer’s previous solo albums, Morning Loops and Hours, explored the manipulation of only the electric guitar, using texture and repetition to push beyond conventions. Listening continues that journey, offering music that resists distraction and rewards deep attention.

Shearer recorded Listening without a click track, working in long, freeform takes. His shimmering, clean guitar tones—often unrecognizable, processed through looping pedals and effects—became a foundation, with layers of sound building around it. “I love making the guitar sound like anything but a guitar,” he says. “I might play for just a minute, but once the sound enters the effects chain, it takes on a life of its own. The music keeps evolving, stretching time in ways I couldn’t predict.”

The opening piece, “Big Sur,” is an 11-minute meditation that drifts in slow, hypnotic waves, its layered guitar textures sparkling like light over water. The piece moves without urgency, subtly transforming as it pulls the listener deeper into its atmosphere. “Threshold” features a delicate piano melody that gradually unfurls, allowing its essence to fully settle before the next emerges. Subtle layers of ambient guitar weave around the piano, stretching and dissolving into the background, creating a sense of stillness and slow expansion.

At nearly 15-minutes, “The Clear Light of the Void” is a slow-burning study in sustain and resonance. Layers of guitar stretch and dissolve into an open, drifting soundscape, each note lingering and shifting like a breath held in suspension. Subtle tonal variations emerge over time, creating a sense of vastness—an expanse where sound is less about movement and more about presence.

“The world is noisy—so much information, so much distraction,” Shearer says. “I wanted to create something that allows people to just be present with the sound, without expectation.” It’s an album that demands nothing from the listener but offers space — to focus, to drift, to listen without waiting for what comes next.

What We Do When in Silence is the trio of Nicola Ratti, Alessandra Novaga and Enrico Malatesta.

Imagine a series of small movements in an empty space. Imagine their shadows on the floor, there’s a natural light sliding in from the 3 windows on your right side. There’s no silence here. There are people outside waiting for others, waiting for the people since what we do is not visible, since we do it when in silence and there is no silence here. Synthesizer, piano, whistling, electric guitar and percussions.

Nicola Ratti is a versatile musician and sound designer who has long been active across diverse experimental fields. His sound production creates systems shaped by repetition and expansion, with a particular focus on building environments that resonate with the spaces and architectures we inhabit, and on balancing the emotional and perceptual orientations to which we are accustomed.

Alessandra Novaga is a guitarist who has been exploring, for years, the possible territories her instrument can lead her to. She has crossed through the most classical worlds, reaching into intangible abstractions without setting boundaries between the two. Sound, meanings, encounters, and narratives are the elements that guide her path.

Enrico Malatesta is a percussionist and independent researcher working within experimental contexts that intersect music, performance, and territorial investigation. His practice explores the relationship between sound, space, and movement, and the vitality of materials, with a particular focus on surfaces, listening modes, and the articulation of multiple layers of information through an ecological and sustainable approach to percussion instruments.

With Lentement, Julie Jains presents her debut EP, the result of a writing and composition process focused on repetition and the passage of time. Each track is built on simple phrases that return, evolve, and gradually generate their own intensity.



Julie's voice, at once fragile and assured, becomes part of this interplay of repetition and lends the project a distinctive identity. Rowan van Hoef's productions reinforce this approach with electronic textures that are both dense and precise, highlighting the voice while establishing a coherent, singular atmosphere.



Together, they offer a work that explores the power of slowness and minimalism, inviting attentive listening beyond conventional formats.

UK producer Tom Carruthers returns with a scorching 5-tracker for Skylax Records, diving headfirst into the primal roots of jackin’ house, proto-italo, and early machine funk. Known for his raw MPC-driven grooves on L.I.E.S., Clone Jack For Daze, Syncrophone, and Craigie Knowes, Carruthers channels the energy of the underground circa ’86—pure drum machine soul for the dancefloor faithful. Side A kicks off with the title track “Neutralise”, all sharp snares, warped synths and hypnotic repetition—a jack track in the truest sense. “Deep North” follows with ghostly pads and relentless drum programming, while “No More” brings metallic tension and stripped-down funk with a heavy nod to Chicago’s original blueprints. On the flip, “Pascals” weaves cosmic arps through rugged percussion, merging italo sensuality with bleep-era minimalism. The closer, “Cosmic Ride”, is exactly that: a journey through spacey chords, dusty rhythm boxes, and that unmistakable feeling of warehouse euphoria at 4 a.m. Neutralise EP is a raw, timeless record that strips dance music down to its essence—jacking, emotional, physical. To match the sonic purity and timeless aesthetic of the release, we enlisted the iconic H5 studio—a name synonymous with visionary design in music and culture. Known for their groundbreaking work with Daft Punk, YSL, and numerous award-winning visual campaigns, H5 brings a level of artistic sophistication that elevates this EP into a complete sensory object. Their clean, modernist design echoes the stripped yet futuristic vibe of Tom Carruthers’ sound—a perfect fusion of form and function, underground and high art. Vinyl only. No digital. No compromise. For fans of: Virgo Four, Baby Ford, Larry Heard, early Warp, Mr. Fingers, and Beppe Loda.

»La Traversée« (»The Crossing«) is Matthias Puech’s second album for Hallow Ground and follows up on 2023’s »Mt. Hadamard National Park.« Profoundly inspired by re-reading »The Odyssey,« the French composer, instrument designer, and scholar used a Eurorack modular synthesizer to create four pieces that are by far the most intuitive and emotionally charged in his ever-expanding catalogue. Puech’s masterful command of sound comes to the forefront with even more urgency on this record. A wandering meditation on the human condition, »La Traversée« is an album that is constantly in motion—complex electronic music at its most gripping and evocative.

The foundation for »La Traversée« was laid when Puech prepared a live set for a tour organised in collaboration with Hallow Ground in support of »Mt. Hadamard National Park.« Before writing the first three pieces—»Ennosigaios,« »Polyphármakos,« »Nekuia«—the 18½-minute-long »Ithâké« was composed in near-total isolation in the South of France at the end of 2023. Puech performed the material live several times before taking a step black from it for a while. He revisited the pieces when preparingthem for a release. »I was struck by how the technical process and the intention behind the music had completely vanished from my memory,« he says.

What remained intact, however, was Puech’s association of the material with one of the most influential texts of Western literature. Reading a graphic novel adaptation of »The Odyssey« with his two four-year-olds, he noticed the effect that it had on them and himself. »Its themes of longing, fear of and attraction to the unknown, unresolved quests, and the struggle for control felt topical,« he says. »I was completely taken. Every story ever told seemed contained in this ancient tale; every story I have ever tried to tell as a composer seemed inscribed in this framework.« This also extended to formal motifs such as the repetition of incidents, narrative developments, or dramatic effects that also mark »La Traversée.«

Puech says that he perceived Homer’s writing as musical, »like an old Delta blues or a Renaissance counterpoint,« which inspired his writing process. »With a couple of knobs on my Eurorack system, I could control the unfolding of a story,« he notes. »This made me pass through different emotional statesand led to moments in which everything made sudden sense—when you as an artist get a glimpse atsomething essential, can touch upon something universal.« This shines through »La Traversée,« a wildly imaginative album that is deeply personal while also telling a story far more wide-reaching than that of its creator.

Spulenmusik proudly presents its debut release SPL001 – Spule/Eins. A deep dive into modular techno crafted by Idu Berg, Ranya Hilgert and Franco Rossi, three artists united by their fascination for raw voltage and hypnotic repetition. Driven by analog circuitry and precision sequencing, Spule/Eins unfolds as a sonic sculpture of tension, groove, and pulse. From warehouse floors to late-night sessions, this record embodies the pure essence of modular techno: stripped, dynamic, and alive. Spulenmusik, handcrafted frequencies for the underground.

Valby Vokalgruppe was initiated in 2008 by Anja Jacobsen, the Danish collective’s current line-cup is completed by Lil Lacy, Sonja LaBianca, Cæcilie Trier and Laura Marie Madsen. The group has written and performed a large number of cross-aesthetic pieces over the years, including an album Bah New Era released in 2012 on Eget Værelse.

Sharpened to its core, the group dives deep into rhythmical architectures built almost solely from the voice - think Platonic solids reimagined as sound objects. Think trance without electronics. These new compositions are compressed, sparkling forms — vocal geometries that spin, collide, and dissolve through repetition. From inside the circle: radical precision, soft dissonance, and playful intuition guide the way. The group explores the voice not as melody alone, but as material — vibrating, modulating, refracting.

Solids For Voices transcends into deep concentration calling for a clear state of mind, in recognition of an increasingly fragmented and incoherent reality. Valby Vokalgruppe endeavours a total absorption into the voice, the rhythm and the trance.

Unchained is the long-standing guitar-based project of Nate Davis, originally from Providence, RI, and based in France for over a decade. In his two most recent LPs—Gabbeh (2024, A Colourful Storm) and Frontalier (2025, Stern Records)—Davis strives to describe a new path for outsider jazz instrumentalism that remains committed to harmonic and rhythmic form while placing greater emphasis on sonic texture through experimental production techniques.

Release Description:

Unchained—a name which at the project's inception or on earlier recordings spoke perhaps to the ecstatic saturation of high gain guitar—has over the past three albums (N.D. Visitor, Pic, and Gabbeh) come to represent more and more an acknowledgement of and sensitive remove from a crashing world. An excuse of oneself from trend towards a siloed artistic development.

On Frontalier, Nate Davis crosses further into this patient personal lexicon of guitar composition, presenting a new set of richly developed songs and leaps in arrangement which may very well shock Unchained fans the world over. The sympathetic geometric guitar themes of the earlier second-period Unchained style are almost entirely absent, making way for a fully realized presentation of the jazz, MPB, and fusion influence present to varying degrees on the previous three albums. Davis's keen sense of melody and songcraft have never been stronger, here landing on music which is at moments evocative of Wes Montgomery, Allan Holdsworth, Jobim, or the jazzier impulses of Lô Borges. Distinct in Davis's music, however, is what these references might belie: an innate tending towards repetition as an affective tool—one which has less to do with the aesthetics of the scene from which the project emerged than it does with devotional prayer. In this way it feels as if Unchained has always been music for living. What was once a maximalist expression of youth has matured into the sound of living with and in the world and an empathic transmuting of all the joy, disappointment, and ambivalence that comes with it. Songs that feel like the sort of thinking one does looking out the window on a long train ride, or the routinism of internal and external life and the breaking out of it. As much as it will be recognized by the fandom as a significant step forward, Frontalier serves also as a perfect gateway for new listeners to the singular music of Unchained.

Dan Bean is one half of The Transcendence Orchestra, alongside Anthony Child (aka Surgeon). Together they've released three albums on Editions Mego as well as an album on their own Old Technology imprint. Dan has also previously released a solo EP on Eyeless Records.

This debut solo album is deliberately composed and performed using only two instruments: a Roland TB-303 and a bass guitar. The point of this constraint was to try to force the creation of unexpected sounds from two very familiar bass instruments. The eight pieces gathered here succeed in doing so, featuring searing textures, unexpected melodic progressions and trance inducing repetitions. At times tender, these tracks remind us that even the most familiar or even overused instruments and ideas can be subverted and refreshed.

Trystero returns with their new album Humming Fuzz on Knekelhuis — a kaleidoscopic voyage deeper into the band’s expanding cosmos.

Built on plunging basslines, acid-drenched loops, and spiraling kraut-inspired guitar textures, the record drifts between hypnotic repetition and free-flowing, hallucinatory songwriting. It echoes the visionary spirit of Psychic TV and the genre-blurring universe of Weatherall, while carving out a raw, magnetic space of its own.

Recorded once again on a canal barge in the North of France, Humming Fuzz feels like a natural evolution from their debut Sfumare e Vedere — denser, more alive, and charged with electricity. Now expanded with Nelly on bass and Alexia on vocals, Trystero channels this expanded energy into their wild, expressive live performances, soon to ignite audiences on their upcoming tours.

An electrified meeting of minds, Candy Girl is a lost 1975 session by jazz pianist Mal Waldron, recorded in Paris with core members of the mighty Lafayette Afro Rock Band, the American funk unit who had made France their home and whose deep grooves would later be mined by generations of hip-hop producers.

By 1975, Waldron was a decade into his self-imposed exile from the United States—a transformed musician who had reassembled his sound in Europe and Japan after a devastating breakdown in the early '60s. His post-1969 output had stripped jazz down to its core elements: modal intensity, locked grooves, and hypnotic repetition. Candy Girl doesn’t interrupt this trajectory—it extends it, wrapping Waldron’s minimalist mantras around the funked-up chassis of the Lafayette rhythm section.

Originally released in microscopic quantities on the Calumet label and long shrouded in obscurity, Candy Girl was recorded spontaneously in the studio of French producer Pierre Jaubert, whose Paris HQ had become the workshop for both avant-garde jazz (Archie Shepp, Art Ensemble of Chicago, Steve Lacy) and psychedelic funk (Lafayette Afro Rock Band AKA Ice). This session finds Waldron jamming freely with bassist Lafayette Hudson, drummer Donny Donable, and keyboardist Frank Abel on clavinet, Moog and more—laying down raw, unfiltered instrumental funk with an experimental edge.

Highlights include the low-slung vamp of “Home Again”, the crisp, break-laden groove of “Red Match Box”, and the mesmeric swirl of the title track “Candy Girl” —a minor-key electric piano waltz with hints of cosmic soul. There's even a deep cut for the crate diggers: the somber yet meditative “Dedication to Brahms”, where Waldron deconstructs the Romantic composer’s third symphony into a sparse jazz reverie.

Unlike his polished sessions for Japanese labels or the avant-garde swing of his earlier Prestige work, Candy Girl feels more spontaneous, even accidental — and that’s part of its power. It’s a document of Waldron as bandleader, collaborator, and explorer, captured in the midst of a vibrant, cross-cultural scene in mid-70s Paris. Never officially issued with a cover and barely released at all, Candy Girl is a rare convergence of two underground traditions: Waldron’s Euro-exile electric jazz and the raw, sampled-future funk of the Lafayette Afro Rock Band. Now finally resurfaced, it deserves its rightful place in both stories.

Recorded in Switzerland and mastered in Madrid, on Deságua Mello blends classical harp training with experimental techniques, creating a rich sonic journey that pushes the boundaries of the instrument. Brazilian harpist and composer Marina Mello presents Deságua, her solo debut released by the Peruvian label Buh Records. Based in Zurich, Mello has developed a unique and expressive approach to the harp, combining her classical training with a deep exploration of the instrument's sonic possibilities. Deságua is the result of this process: an intimate and expansive work that traverses sonic landscapes rich in contrast and texture. In the artist's own words, this album is a synthesis of material developed through her musical practice. The title refers to the Portuguese word that describes the moment a river flows into the sea. This concept guides the album's sonic narrative, in which each piece functions as a tributary flowing into an immersive and unexpected listening experience. From bittersweet whale-like sounds to destructive, unsettling, and shattering noise provocations, she explores, senses, and transcends the musical boundaries of her instrument. The album presents a wide range of sounds and styles, yet maintains a strong internal coherence through its technical and conceptual exploration of the harp. Mello performs on both lever and pedal harps, employing a range of non-traditional techniques: preparing the instrument with objects, using guitar effects pedals, detuning the strings, and using close mic recording to capture the subtlest sounds and the shifts that lie between them. The result is a collection of pieces that move between the melodic and the dissonant. Deságua does not shy away from repetition, noise, or raw textures. Instead, it embraces them fully, situating the album at the crossroads of contemporary music, improvisation, and electronic experimentation.

Wrong Filament embodies Robert Piotrowicz's creation of fictional traditional music - not studied but invented, a utopian and oniric construct that becomes tangible in sound. These imagined traditions act as communal forces of music-making, resisting dominant structures of power.

The album unfolds in six dense compositions built on rhythm, repetition and minimal melodic gestures that draw on archetypal patterns of Eastern European traditions. Entirely synthetic yet strikingly instrumental in character, they develop as autonomous sound events, expanding into multi-part forms that evoke the physicality of ensemble performance - as if played by an imagined community of musicians.

Rather than reconstruction, Piotrowicz invents forged dances - a pre-techno of sorts, where complex meters and dense textures point to a parallel history of collective sound beyond industrial uniformity. They imagine a utopian and fictional genealogy of collective sound: one where industrial modernity yields to more unstable, communal energies.

This is celebratory music with invocatory charge: calls to dance, echoes of ceremony, microtonal melodies shaped by emotional weight, and traces of Eastern ornamentation stretched through synthetic means. Wrong Filament sacralises performance through sound alone, spinning a world where spectres of collective experience vibrate against the limits of rupture and resistance.

These pieces confront the traces of violence inscribed in body and memory, yet also affirm freedom, emancipation and integration. They manifest celebration, identity and resistance while opening a path toward liberation and shared needs that exceed social, private and intimate categories.

A critique and embrace of self-destruction, esoteric vanity and inevitable ruin. The molten-red LP on Riot Season Records plunges deep into an abuse of distortion, existential doom and primal Stooges-like chaos. LA’s Acid Punk Power Trio returns to its mark 1 line up, now wielding a second addition in twin-drum assault
OVER-GAIN OPTIMAL DEATH are :Jasso : Guitar/ Vocals, Luna : Bass, Backhaus + TJ : Twin Drums
Jasso (guitar/vocals) is seemingly out for blood on this 4 track studio album, leading a violent dive into the abyss, Japanese Underground fury meets Hendrix’s wreckage, fuzz-drenched wah freak-outs compete against raw punk vocals caught in an endless slap back delay…
OVER-GAIN OPTIMAL DEATH are an Acid Punk power trio formed in 2008 hailing from Los Angeles, and now currently hiding out somewhere in the South of France.
Fronted by guitarist/ vocalist Jasso (Psychedelic Speed Freaks, Antarcticans), they push a special niche product of blown-out extreme psychedelic noise rock. Their sound is enveloped in a total nihilist
"No Hope" atmosphere of heavy lyrics and distortion, mating intoxicating pulsing repetition, hyperactive improvisations and out of body guitar solos.
Resurrecting US 60s punk and acid-riffage from the likes of Blue Cheer, the Stooges, MC5 and live Hendrix Experience, OVER-GAIN OPTIMAL DEATH also draws greatly on the in-the-red sound aesthetic and high energy of the Speed Freak Underground and Hardcore scene of 80s/90s Japan.

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

Animistic Resonance marks a new stage for artist and electronic musician Leslie García, as it is her first album under her own name, following several releases as Microhm and her parallel work as founder of the contemporary art studio Interspecifics, where she has developed an extensive body of sonic projects presented in major museums and programs around the world. The album is the culmination of a profound and extended exploration of sound as language. It is also a statement against the classicism of long-form ambient pieces. Narratively, each track is conceived as a finely detailed work that functions as a condensed temporal fragment, each with its own individuality while simultaneously forming part of a broader universe.

The compositional language of the album draws on minimalist structures, deep listening strategies, and experimental approaches to electronic sound. Each track offers a meditation on repetition, density, and micro-variation, unfolding like a sonic landscape shaped by temporal tension and perceptual ambiguity. Animistic Resonance resists categorization, situating itself between ambient, noise, and abstract rhythm, while grounding its aesthetic in a Latin American sensibility that embraces technological poetics, affective depth, and critical imagination.

The album invites listeners to move beyond the surface and inhabit a world of vibrational and animistic temporalities. It offers a refuge in sound, a suspended space where calm can emerge. In the midst of contemporary turbulence, Animistic Resonance opens the door to imagining new ways of listening and feeling, demanding an embodied and visceral form of engagement.

Composition sound synthesis and programming by Leslie García. Composed between 2022—2024 in Mexico City.
Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studio, NY. Artwork by Daniel Castrejón.

Written & Produced by Daniele Serraino (D/n), and Carlos Pineda (Linear Phase) all rights reserved

"Static Rite" is the result of a sonic dialogue between two producers-D/n and Linear Phase-united by a deep, hypnotic, and physical approach to techno. The EP unfolds within the realm of hypnotic/RAW tech- no, where repetition becomes a perceptual language and sound turns into ritual.

Italian-born, Berlin-based D/n contributes the A-side with "Resonant Shift" and "Blind Motion," two tracks built on dub textures, dark atmospheres, and broken rhythmic structures. His magnetic, slow-burning sound reflects years of evolution from the underground acid scene to immersive techno sets in venues like Tresor and Zur Klappe. D/n's tracks have garnered support from renowned artists.

On the B-side, Spanish producer Linear Phase offers "Mandatory" and "Silent Widow," showcasing his refined modular synthesis and deep sound design. With over 50 releases on labels like Drumcode LTD, Planet Rhythm, and Edit Select, his style fuses ambient depth with raw, hypnotic intensity.

AMBULANZ aus Leipzig liefern chaotischen Art-Punk, der zwischen kantigem, krautrockigem Experimentalismus und eingängigen, mitreißenden Melodien oszilliert. Zwei Stimmen spielen mit hüpfendem Bass und wirbelnden Synthesizern und balancieren dabei stets am Rande des Zerfalls. Ihre Songs beschäftigen sich mit Verlust, Angst, Drogen, flüchtiger Freude und einem Funken Hoffnung. Sie bewegen sich auf dem schmalen Grat zwischen zugänglicher Verrücktheit und Art-Haus-Freakout, ohne zu weit in eine der beiden Richtungen zu kippen. Diese Art von Balanceakt könnte leicht in Mittelmäßigkeit versinken - aber nicht hier. Unter der Oberfläche pulsiert eine unbestreitbare Lebendigkeit, die alles am Leben hält. Irgendwo zwischen Garage und Traum.

1982 was a decisive year for The Fall. Their critically acclaimed album ‘Hex Enduction Hour’ was released in March on Kamera Records, closely followed by ‘Room To Live’ in September of that year. ‘Hex Enduction Hour’ was the fourth studio album by The Fall, building on their lo-fi production and featuring a two-drummer line-up. The album was recorded in Reykjavik, Iceland and Hitchin, Hertfordshire. Featuring the classic line-up of Mark E. Smith alongside Steve Hanley (bass), Craig Scanlon (guitar), Karl Burns (drums), Paul Hanley (drums) and Marc Riley (guitar). This is another fine addition to Cherry Red’s series of deluxe Fall re-issues – “Fall Sound Archive”. ‘Hex Enduction Hour’ and ‘Room to Live’ are also available on a 7-CD boxset – “1982” Founded by its only constant member, Mark E. Smith, The Fall formed in Manchester in 1976 and were one of the most prominent post-punk groups in the world. Musically, there may have been several stylistic changes over the years, but it was often characterised by an abrasive guitar-driven sound and frequent use of repetition, always underpinned by Smith's distinctive vocals and often cryptic lyrics. “They are always different; they are always the same.” John Pee

With »Roto«, Derek Piotr revisits the aqueous terrain first explored in his 2016 album »Drono«, where the paradox of water’s stillness and perpetual motion was refracted into looping voices and glitching textures. Conceived as a »spiritual successor« and recorded in 2019, the album has lain dormant for six years before surfacing on Discreet Archive. That stretch of silence seems to have deepened its charge – the sound feels unearthed rather than made, like a whirlpool biding its time in obscurity until now.

Unlike »Drono«’s mosaic of shorter pieces, »Roto« unfurls as two expansive half-hour tracks, allowing Piotr to probe repetition with greater intensity. Vowels accumulate until they shimmer with alien sentience, drones grow dense and psychoacoustic, and the smallest digital artifacts flicker like neural sparks. The result is a work that denies familiarity; recurrence here only breeds strangeness, unspooling into a procession of hidden pulses and altered voices that resist prediction, drawing the listener deeper into a submerged, otherworldly space.

Derek Piotr is a folklorist, researcher and performer whose work focuses primarily on the human voice. His work covers practices including fieldwork, vocal performance, preservation and autoethnography; and is primarily concerned with tenderness, fragility, beauty and brutality. He has collaborated with artists including Scott Solter, Nathan Salsburg and Thomas Brinkmann across various disciplines.

He is lead archivist and creative director of the Fieldwork Archive.

Manuel Tur returns to his own Spaced Repetitions imprint for a late summer three-tracker. DJ support from Mano Le Tough, Horse Meat Disco, Âme, Dave DK, Lars Behrenroth, Hans Nieswandt, DJ Harri & more.

DESTRUCTION UNIT sind eine amerikanische Band, die in der Wüste Arizonas zusammenkam. Gegründet von Ryan Rousseau waren D. UNIT ursprünglich ein synthielastiges Trio, dessen andere Mitglieder Jay Reatard und Alicja Trout (LOST SOUNDS) waren - ebenso war Rousseau ein Mitglieder der REATARDS, bevor Jay auf Solopfaden wanderte. Geboren im Dunstkreis der Memphis Goner Records Szene und verpflanzt nach Tempe, Arizona, hat Rousseau des Band zu einem kompletten Soundangriff geformt, für den drei Gitarristen (er selbst, Nick Nappa und Jesco Aurelius), sein Bruder Rusty am Bass und ein 19-jähriger, klassisch ausgebildeter Schlagzeuger, Andrew Flores, verantwortlich sind. DESTRUCTION UNIT haben auf dem bandeigenen Label Ascetic House bereits einige Kassetten, auf Jolly Dream eine LP namens ,Void" und kürzlich eine limitierte 7" auf Suicide Squeeze veröffentlicht. ,Deep Trip" ist ihr erstes echtes Studioalbum. Produziert von Ben Greenberg von THE MEN, HUBBLE & PYGMY SHREWS im Vacation Island Studio in New York. Morphium Boogie für den Noisesüchtigen des 21. Jahrhunderts. "Skull-crushing repetition, menacing walls of nuanced guitar noise, feedback magick wah'd from hell to the sky, a sprawling kraut backbone, evil melodies." - Pitchfork

Bendik Giske’s Beatrice Dillon-produced 2023 album gets an addendum with reworks from Carmen Villain, aya, Hanne Lippard, Hieroglyphic Being, Wacław Zimpel and Dillon herself.

Giske’s clearly got his ear to the ground; his last remix record was an invitation for Laurel Halo to put her stamp on »Cruising«, while 2018’s »Adjust EP« roped in Deathprod, Total Freedom, Lotic, and Rezzett. Now comes this new LP of remixes and it’s one of the best we’ve heard in aeons. Carmen Villain boots things off with a remix of »Slipping«, following her excellent (and way, way too underrated) »Nutrition EP« with a giddy, subtle roller that sounds as if it’s been constructed using only Giske’s raw stems. His breaths and leathery key presses – already amped up by Dillon’s detailed recording – are magicked into a dubby concrète groove that’s enhanced with the sparest melodic elements: echoing rainforest-at-night horn blasts, and lopped off decay trails that help fuel the momentum.

aya’s revision of the same track takes a different approach, forming forceful overlapping polyrhythms from Giske’s clanks, using the gamelan-like arpeggios for melodic weight and repetition. The result is a constantly shifting, hypnotic trancer that’s achingly organic – more Raja Kirik than Paul Van Dyke. Polish clarinetist and producer Wacław Zimpel, meanwhile, supplements his trippy recent collaboration with James Holden on a similarly levitational wrinkle of »Slipping« that twists Giske’s quivering sequences with microtonal synth prangs, and gusty echoes. But it’s Jamal Moss who plays fastest and loosest with Giske’s source material, calling back to April’s psy-house stunner »Dance Music 4 Bad People« with a powdery, sexualised banger that buries the breathy »Start« stems underneath neon synths, and brittle drum loops.

»I’m a digital nomad,« Lippard deadpans over Giske’s »Not Yet«. »I’m addicted you know that.« It’s a typically dry treatment from the conceptual artist that unexpectedly amps up the hypnotic qualities of Giske’s original, adding her circuitous charm to his concertina-ing sax sequences. And to tie things up perfectly, Beatrice Dillon returns with her diaphanous remix of »Rise and Fall«, built to emphasise the radically different approaches of each artist.

"Astral Americana hymns hovering somewhere between the dirt and the stars" Pitchfork

"Mood music for moments of solitude, best experienced without distraction" The Times

"Overwhelmingly effective and ravishingly beautiful" The Wire

American Dust is an ode to the beauty of the American Southwest, where vast desert landscapes hold stories both stark and tender. Eve Adams’ characteristic folk noir weaves a vivid tapestry of love, sacrifice and quiet revelation, conjuring images of dust storms, stray dogs and far off trains.

The high desert of California is a vast and confounding place. Equally inspiring as it is punishing, it’s a landscape that carries magic in its deep dark nights, holding stories both tender and stark in the coarse layer of dust that settles upon everything. It’s long been a source of inspiration for musicians, writers, and painters, each of them adding to the same current, carried forward over time, through hope and hardship and the passing years.

Somewhere out there in that broad and boundless landscape, Eve Adams has been living her own desert life, quietly writing the follow-up to 2021’s Metal Bird LP. Where that album sang of liminal space, the dream-like turbulence of Hollywood’s golden age, American Dust is far more rooted in traditional storytelling; a eulogy for the American Dream channeled through that sweeping part of the country that holds such power and mystery. Slipping into different and varied costumes throughout its ten songs, it finds Eve not just observing the people around her but stepping into their shoes and peeling back the layers of their quiet lives.

Adams writes from within. A few years ago she moved out there, to “the middle of nowhere”, finding a slowness that didn’t exist in the city, and she knows only too well about the mystical nature of the land and those who live within it. Weaving together themes of grit and romance, American Dust holds its focus on the bittersweet poetry of lives lived in solitude, most notably the women who sustain life at the center of it all. “There’s something very radical about domestic life,” Adams says of this thread. “So many women live their entire lives behind closed doors, completely in the shadows. Within those lives is such sacrifice, devotion, and love. I wanted to honor that: the poetry in the mundane, the longing in the repetition. The way love survives boredom and dust and time.”

Eve is joined on American Dust by Canadian musician Bryce Cloghesy, aka Military Genius of Crack Cloud, who plays throughout and also helped produce the album. Musically bold and vivid, it’s an ambitious and detailed stride forward from what’s come before, the scope of the LP’s narrative reflected in the radiant sweep of the playing. On top of gentle piano and guitar, gorgeous strings drift through the album, lending the songs a woozy sense of romanticism; a collaboration with Gamaliel Traynor (Cello) and Caroline’s Oliver Hamilton (Violin).

For all the drama that’s coiled around these songs, it’s the recurring notion of love and hope fighting against everything that holds true throughout American Dust. Musically it’s lush and vibrant, intimate and cinematic side by side, and always bursting with warmth. But it’s what it holds in its weary bones that elevates it to something truly special, something more than just a collection of songs penned in the heart of the desert. The characters it speaks of, and from, feel shadowed but wholly real, like they’re bursting to share their stories that have remained hidden for years and years and they allow Eve Adams to grow as a songwriter right in front of our eyes.

“The same swirling dust that clung to the covered wagons of my ancestors as they crossed the Great American Desert is the same dust my great-great-grandmother swept off her porch during the Dust Bowl of 1936 in Oklahoma, is the same dust that blows in through the cracks in my windows here in the desert, carrying stories from a time long gone,” Eve says, reflecting on the personal narrative that runs through her new album.

“It’s not just dust—it’s American Dust, the kind that settles into the bones of a family and never leaves. I think about that dust as a symbol of the passage of time. I hope this album will be part of that same current, carrying forward for the next generations of my family to find. I’ve been lucky enough to have journals and poetry from my ancestors that documents their lives during times of pure hope and pure hardship. I’d like to think of this album as a contribution to that family history.”

The Vestige is the first fruit of a new intergenerational collaboration between Giuseppe Ielasi, a quietly prolific key contributor to the European experimental music scene for over twenty years, and Jack Sheen, a young composer-conductor-sound artist from Manchester whose recent projects have seen him moving seamlessly from enigmatic chamber music composition and installations to conducting the London Symphony Orchestra. Their materials and working methods differ significantly, with Ielasi having focussed for many years on electro-acoustic techniques alongside his ongoing commitment to the guitar, and Sheen primarily composing for traditional instruments. More important, though, is what they share: a fascination with what Sheen calls “mysterious, liminal musical material,” using irregular repetition and cyclical forms to create structures at once alive with activity and almost static, as well as a rigorous exploration of spatial diffusion and the interaction of sound event and environment. Working individually with a library of acoustic instrument sounds from Sheen’s recent projects and Ielasi’s guitar, the pair eventually met for several days at Ielasi’s home studio in Monza, sculpting the fourteen pieces that make up The Vestige. Like Ielasi and Sheen’s solo works, the record shows an exquisite attention to details of sequencing and pacing, the sound palette and compositional approach consistent throughout while each piece asserts its own identity. The twenty-five seconds of the opening piece serve as an entrée into the record’s distinctive world of sound: repeated chirps fluctuate in volume as they move across the stereo spectrum, woven between strangled snatches of string glissando against a backdrop of percussive ticks, long tones, and white noise. Across the remaining thirteen pieces, Ielasi and Sheen sketch further dimensions of the ambiguous space, where distinctions between pitch and noise, repetition and irregularity, electronic and acoustic remain pointedly unclear. As the record’s title suggests, the origins of the sounds we hear have become remote: while at moments we get flashes of timbres and attacks that could come from wind instruments, bowed strings, or prepared guitar, these remain vestigial traces, glimpsed through a veil of shifting white noise textures. These textures are themselves difficult to trace, suggesting artefacts of the recording process, electronic synthesis, amplified room sound, rubbed instruments or objects. The Vestige shows an unusual degree of attention to frequency range as a compositional tool, something it shares with the hyper-subtle variations of Ielasi’s electroacoustic works and the deliberately ‘unbalanced’ midrange-heavy ensemble of Sheen’s Sub. Here, movement between episodes is as much about adding or removing a frequency band as it is about changes in density, harmonic content, or instrumental texture. Tracks are marked by the sudden appearance of subbass or exaggeration of high frequencies in otherwise similar material, contributing to our sense that these fourteen pieces are like different views on a scene that we can never quite see clearly. While calling up a range of past music, from the early works of Rolf Julius to Simha Arom’s recordings of layered polyrhythms embedded in the background sounds of central African villages to the temporal distortions and layered hiss of DJ Screw, the alluring and disconcerting world of The Vestige is entirely its own.

Ty Segall follows 2022"s acoustic introspection opus "Hello, Hi" with a deeper, wilder journey to the center of the self. With Three Bells, he"s created a set of his most ambitious, elastic songs, using his musical vocabulary with ever-increasing sophistication. It"s an obsessive quest for an expression that answers back to the riptide always pulling him subconsciously into the depths. Questions we all ask in our own private mirrors are faced down here - and regardless of what the mysterious "Three Bells" mean in the context of the album"s libretto, you can be assured that Ty"s ringing them for himself, and for the rest of us in turn.

Vines, the solo project of New York-based multi-instrumentalist and composer Cassie Wieland, offers a window into her inner world through expansive swaths of sound. She pieces together a celestial mix of synths, percussion, strings, and vocoded voice, making music that is at once deeply personal and cinematic in scope. This diaristic approach first took shape with her 2023 EP Birthday Party, and is crystallized on her debut LP, I’ll be here. With the sweeping and vulnerable I’ll be here, Vines arrives fully formed as an artist who crafts deeply resonant and open music–the kind that invites listeners in to listen, reflect, and share in the journey of learning through living.

“It was through making music that I was able to meet myself,” Wieland said. “Anything I’m going through or feeling is something that somebody else out there can relate to, and that’s really special to me.”

I’ll be here is both a culmination of years spent creating gossamer soundscapes and an opening to a new journey for Wieland as an artist. The album grew out of her years as a composer and songwriter, and builds on the language she developed on Birthday Party, which transformed the tumultuous feelings of the passing of time into minimalist meditations. It was just a start, though–a prologue, a development of the kind of language and ideas she wanted to express. With I’ll be here, she digs deeper and writes music that feels more sprawling, further solidifying her singular voice.

Wieland’s musical composition process is similar to journaling, lending itself to the music’s honesty. When she writes, she makes room for all the ideas she has; in these sessions, there are no wrong ideas, and she allows the music to be attuned to the experiences she’s having at the time. With I’ll be here, Wieland zeroes in on themes of anxiety, loneliness, navigating human connection, and having to grow up from a young age, ultimately coming to a place of acceptance. And though it began as a journal written in solitude, her collaborators shape the music with her.

Working with friends, in fact, was a crucial part of bringing the record to life. “Everything that was supposed to happen came together so easily because of the people involved,” Wieland said. I’ll be here was co-produced and recorded with Wieland’s longtime collaborator Mike Tierney, a four time Grammy-nominated engineer who has worked with artists across the contemporary classical and experimental scene like minimalist pioneer Steve Reich, LA’s preeminent classical ensemble Wild Up, and various bands on Bang on a Can’s Cantaloupe Music label. Percussionist and composer Adam Holmes and violinist Adrianne Munden-Dixon are two other longtime collaborators who are frequent fixtures of her live show. Holmes plays synths, drums, and banjo; in live settings, his kit is loaded with elements of the songs that are then triggered by MIDI, making the music an interactive, evolving experience. The album’s gentle, filamented edges are colored by Munden-Dixon, whose poignant string melodies elevate Wieland’s introspective compositions, as well as cellist Helen Newby, saxophonists Julian Velasco and Jordan Lulloff, and bassist Pat Swoboda.

Wieland takes an economic approach to writing music, building the swirling and immersive landscapes of Vines through short melodies, lyrics, and phrases. As each element layers and interweaves, they grow into sprawling webs of ghostly sound. Prior to Vines, Wieland composed pieces for other people to play using a minimalist’s sensibility, writing slowly unfolding melodies for instruments like violin and saxophone. In recent years, she sharpened her solo style across a variety of singles and covers which have garnered significant attention on social media for their emotional resonance (“being loved isn't the same as being understood” in particular went massively viral on TikTok in 2024). Birthday Party, her debut as Vines, brought her writing to a much more intimate space, centering on her vocoded voice cloaked in feathery reverb. A series of recent singles, meanwhile, including “I am my home,” showcase the way that Wieland’s music is born from the story of her innermost feelings, extending far beyond just the self.

Though Wieland’s music often deals with dark themes, it unfolds with tender melancholy, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. On “Evicted,” Wieland wonders if she’s getting sick or moving on, if she’s lost or found. Her vocals expand with each lyrical repetition, as the instrumentals slowly encircle and the music’s rhythm grows and bursts into a heart-wrenching, yet radiant wave reminiscent of post-rock bands like Explosions in the Sky. “Tired” follows a similar trajectory, building from a looping, melancholy rhythm and floating lyrics into a solemn resignation. Elsewhere, Wieland takes a more ruminative approach: “Omw” begins with twinkling piano and melancholy strings that gradually transform into an undulating mass. It is a song born out of the warm feeling of reminiscence, the slight return of hope that comes with nostalgia.

With any searching journey, there is also a point of understanding. The title track closes the album with the freedom of acceptance. A marching drum beats steadily beneath Wieland’s open vocals, moving forward, ever onward as it flies into the ether. In Wieland’s delicately textured music, there is room to come into yourself, and learn to love whomever that is. I’ll be here is a special space that can be all your own, one in which to feel what needs to be felt. “This is music for your story,” Wieland said. “I want you to use it how you need it.”

Strut now present a new single vinyl reissue of Vambe"s privately pressed original album from 1982, Drumgita Solo. A self-taught drummer, inventor, and sonic experimentalist, Vambe is a unique figure in British music. The creator of his own instrument, the drumgita (pronounced "drum-guitar") or string-drum, Vambe intended to create a kind of music that had never been made in order to pursue access to the fourth dimension. The album plays with time, mixing hypnotic, trance-like drumgita pieces with the same segments played backwards. You can hear echoes of African drumming traditions, minimalist repetition, and tape-manipulated musique concrète - but ultimately, the album defies genre. It is a solitary voyage, spiritual and futuristic.

In the world of Pharaoh Overlord, little is ever as it seems. This band is less comprised of tricksters or mischief makers than fearless obsessives whose musical instincts take twisted and wild pathways. Now, fresh from forays into Italo-disco and synth-pop, they have thrown another still more mighty statement of intent into the universe. Louhi is a thunderous and majestic epic of joyful repetition and earth shaking power. A two-track minimalist-rock monolith forged from guitars, synths and hurdy-gurdy, inspired by the band’s eternal touchstone influence Outside The Dream Syndicate by Tony Conrad and Faust, and constructed around a single riff and melodic idea, it builds and evolves to fearsome pinnacles of elemental intensity.Luminaries and constant compatriots in the Pharaoh Overlord
headspace were recruited for this voyage into the ether. Vocalist and longtime collaborator Aaron Turner (SUMAC, Isis, Old Man Gloom)and Tyneside maverick Richard Dawson were equally keen to get on board, the former taking a spontaneous and improvisatory approach to his vocal parts, and the latter largely playing a part consisting of one guitar chord. Yet whatever routes Pharaoh Overlord take to their destination, a common theme is the consciousness-warping singularity of the riff and the mantra, and the temporal disorientation this can provoke mirrors the broader designs of this record, which takes traditional folk elements and transports them in the band’s singular time machine. “It’s our 25th Anniversary this year, and from time to time we hear wishes that if just we could play more of the stuff that we did twenty or more years ago” relate Jussi and Tomi. “We totally understand this. You could say we used Louhi to reset ourselves to the past, to be able to continue again to the future.” Aaron puts it another way, evoking simplicity in the chaos – “The world of Pharaoh Overlord is a magical one - every album is an invitation to enter that place and rejoice in doing so…”

Black Vinyl LP. The world has changed, we shouldn't try and pretend otherwise. While we were shut away in isolation our routines shifted, social patterns evolved, and our hopes and dreams were twisted into cobwebs we're still trying to wipe from our fingers. Ziúr tentatively approached this on her last album Antifate, an ambitious and complex hybrid pop fever dream that looked back to a Medieval escapist fantasy as the scent of revolution seemed to hum in the air. But when restrictions were eased, she found herself staring down a discombobulated society that had trapped itself in a spiral of microwaved nostalgia and detached, narcotic repetition. Eyeroll then is Ziúr's musical panacea, a tincture to wake us from our creative slumber and prompt external connection and reflection. It's a polyphonous hex that demands human interaction, and Ziúr's hand-picked alliance of collaborators - Elvin Brandhi, Abdullah Miniawy, Iceboy Violet, Juliana Huxtable, Ledef, and James Ginzburg - each provide distinct voices that together herald a bewildering sonic epoch. Ziúr's palette had to evolve to match the scope of the project, but it was pure necessity that informed the album's defining tone. Recording mostly at night, Ziúr was conscious of the noise she was making so developed a unique way to record organic percussion. Using a set of rototoms - low profile tunable drums - she scratched, scraped and gently tapped the skins to build up the undulating and unstable rhythmic backdrop for each track. It's the first sound we hear on the opener 'Eyeroll', rattling like lost marbles against Elvin Brandhi's primal croaks and screams. And when Brandhi's twisted articulations form words, Ziúr matches the energy with chaotic thuds and serrated blasts of saturated electronics. "I roll the shittiest cigarette," she squeals like she's about to start a mosh pit at Paris's GRM Studios. Without pause, Abdullah Miniawy takes over on 'Malikan', building on the promise of material with Simo Cell, Carl Gari and HVAD with corrosive trumpet blasts and charged, politically incendiary Arabic vocals. Inspired by pre-Islamic poetry and the Qu'ranic chanters he heard growing up in Saudi Arabia and Egypt, he spins labyrinthine stories that cross between the worlds, breaking down physical and spiritual borders simultaneously. Miniawy's scope is expanded even further on his second collaboration, 'If The City Burns I Will Not Run'. "If it rains and the city drowns," he utters over gaseous electronics, "I will not run away, but I will be anxious for the heart of one close to me." After a supple vocal turn from Manchester's Iceboy Violet on 'Move On' and a surreal interlude from poet- DJ-artist-theorist Juliana Huxtable on '99 Favor Taste', Brandhi returns with two more hyperactive collaborations: ,'Nontrivial Differential' and 'Cut Cut Quote'. On the former she slices into Ziúr's skeletal jazz eruptions, screaming and crooning interchangeably, fluxing between the rap battle and the cabaret. The latter is completely different meanwhile, with Brandhi settling into her role as front-woman and groaning dizzying improvised passages that sound like grunge crossed with psychedelic no-wave. Brandhi's spiky musical history has prepared her well for this collaboration; she's a prolific producer and has been using her voice spontaneously since debuting with father-daughter improv duo Yeah You in the mid 2020s. She's found an ideal foil in Ziúr, a producer who matches her restless energy and willingness to bend formality, and leaves an indelible mark on Eyeroll. But the album's most tender moments are from Ziúr herself, who winds the album down on 'Hasty Revisionism', growling over collapsible beats and cascading strings, and comes to an unexpected conclusion with country coda 'Lacrymaturity'. Its feverish amalgamation of country music and euphoric, experimental electronics might seem incongruous at first, but in context with the rest of the album is the only possible conclusion. With Eyeroll Ziúr is making a firm statement about togetherness, humanity, and the renewal of hope when all seems lost. By bringing together such a wide but philosophically harmonic team of collaborators, she's conducted a body of work that speaks to the creative fringe in no uncertain terms. Now's the time to throw away what you think you know, and build bridges you didn't think you need. Now's the time for action. She may have spent her entire career avoiding the solipsistic trappings of "queer art", but by assembling a communal statement that questions so many normative assumptions about music, politics, and beyond, Ziúr has chanced upon her queerest album yet. Cringe? Eyeroll.

Playing with a Different Sex was the debut album by seminal post-punk band Au Pairs, released in 1981.

Described retrospectively by AllMusic as ‘one of the great post-punk records’, a review by Record Mirror on its release said the band’s ‘critique of all forms of possession and sexual stereotyping assumes a devastating power’. Themes include sexual politics and the torture of women imprisoned in Northern Ireland during The Troubles of the 1970s, as well as a stunning cover of David Bowie’s ‘Repetition’ about domestic violence. It peaked at No. 33 in the UK, and features the single ‘It's Obvious’, which reached No. 37 on the US Club Play Singles chart. Playing with a Different Sex is available as a numbered limited edition of 750 copies on turquoise coloured vinyl and contains an insert.

Reissue of in-demand Italo title, with accompanying edits by Hysteric. "For the much-requested 12'' reissue of Roaring Mosquitoes, Best Record followed the hint by a die-hard German researcher and esteemed DJ of 'hidden musical treasures' Frinda Di Lanco. Further enriching this reissue - masterfully remastered by Dom Scuteri - with two of his splendid edits is the Australian DJ-producer George Hysteric, one of the world's leading authorities and a leading figure in Italo Disco. The juxtaposition of the two songs performed with grit and physicality by Agostina Casalino and her cousin Antonietta Casalino (aka Roaring Mosquitoes) highlights two aesthetically and rhythmically similar approaches, albeit with different roots and inspirations. "You Aren't With Me" has the merit of not wanting to reinvent the genre, but exploits the familiarity of pop-dance forms, obtaining an immediate catchiness. The piece stands out for its linearity while reworking melodic mechanisms typical of the 80s new wave: short instrumental intro, well-defined verse-chorus, obsessive repetition of melodic hooks that make it an immediate and "dragging" song on the dance floor. The arrangement focuses on a solid electronic drum groove, sinuous basslines, clean guitar riffs, "cutting" keyboards and the use of the chorus typical of the Italo Disco of those years. Some passages recall the melodic line and rhythmic progression of "Tonight... Crazy Night", an intriguing song that the Canadian artist Dorine Hollier created in 1984 at the Titania Studios in Rome with Pierluigi Giombini. Even with "Ah Ah Ah Ah" which features a vibrant and cheerful sound there's a playful use of citation for some idea that Diego Pepe took from a Micky & Joyce track. It evokes the "space disco" spirit of Jean-Pierre Massiera and the influence of the French scene of 1979: polyphonic synthetic strings, echo effects on electronic hi-hats and a vaguely futuristic atmosphere, but with an even more captivating sound revitalized with more scratchy modern touches and compressed basslines. A mix of vintage and contemporary that enhance its charm."

a lacerated hunk of metal and circuitry- “Iri.gram” charred on the side- comes back round to us again, still icy from the dark reaches of its orbit as it fades across the sky like memories of a bad dream. it’s throwing signals in all directions at once, jamming any possibility of a coherent rendering and keeping its exact boundaries unknowable. electronically, it arrives as does a storm: softly, first portended by a single drop. but pick any frequency band and listen in– the cadence of the pulses as they intensify feels viscous and decidedly unmechanical. there are discernible sequences, yes, and all at 133bpm, but crouched between the frames there lurks another organizing presence that seems to grab and mutate each repetition on the way past, spewing a stream of facsimiles as it travels, seemingly in an attempt to evade both pattern recognition and any subsequent defensive reactions.