Cerca:reveal

“Music is my forever cove,” writes Portland, Oregon’s Luke Wyland of the ideas that give shape to Kuma Cove, his latest album under his own name. Though named after a real place on the Oregon coast, Kuma Cove casts its gaze far beyond the sightseer’s line of vision. Recorded live in the studio and blurring obvious lines between computer-based composition and electro-acoustic instrumentation, it is an album about flow, borders, transitory states, and shelter. Composed of discontinuous ripples and repetitions (“I’m forever searching for a better descriptor than looping, which feels too simple and flattened by overuse,” Wyland says), shaped into richly emotive arcs, and informed by his experience as a person who stutters, it is also an album about identity, self-expression, and the energies that sluice through and across what we perceive as linear time—like floodwaters seeking an exit, like streams running into the sea.

Artist’s Statement:
I made this record while spending significant time in the woods by the Sandy River in Corbett, Oregon,
where I've had my studio for the last five years. It is a diary of spontaneous live recordings edited to highlight the moments of clarity that emerge from long-form improvisations. These compositions express a slowing internal rhythm. An unwinding. A somatic recalibration as I enter middle age. A newly empowered vulnerability.

Here are the internalized cadences of my stutter, flowing freely from my fingers. The musicality of my disfluency is revealed in its frictions, elongations, and foreshortenings. Disruptions in linear time, where the bubbling cadences of my stutter find unexpected pathways, reveal the elasticity of the present moment. This is my idiosyncratic language, shaped and inspired by my disability. Subliminally mirroring internal processes, neural firings, cognitive entanglements...

The title, Kuma Cove, refers to a beloved cove on the coast of Oregon my wife and I return to yearly. There has always been something so magnetic about coves. The way they cradle one from the overwhelming enormity of the ocean beyond, muting a primordial fear. I experience these improvisations as ecosystems I'm able to inhabit for stretches of time, embodying the particular rhythms and sensorial textures within each. Music is my forever cove. Everything you hear is created live in Ableton on a setup I've been honing for 15 years. I celebrate MIDI and computer music as an extension of self and strive to make it as expressive as any analog instrument. I was a visual artist for the first half of my life and quickly adapted those skills to composing and producing on a computer. The transition felt natural within the landscape of DAW's interfaces, especially as a synesthete. Ableton and its community of Max creators continue to surprise me with its expansiveness.

I'm forever searching for a better descriptor than looping, which feels too simple and flattened by overuse. I envision sonic loops as tangled masses of time, three-dimensional knots spinning on tilted axes, or overlapping wreaths refracting out a myriad of colors. My practice is continually refocusing my ear to what is revealed in the repetitions, searching for the fingerprint of each. I find it incredible how technology lets us manipulate time like this. Nothing on this record is quantized or locked to a universal bpm. Experiencing numerous tempos at once feels important. Recordings as mirrors. Freedom from expected (conversational) flow as we hold time for each other.
-Luke Wyland, August 2024

Artist Bio:
Luke Wyland is an interdisciplinary artist, composer, and performer based in Portland, OR (USA). Wyland has been releasing critically acclaimed records for the past 20 years in the groups AU and Methods Body, as LWW, and under his own name, working with such labels as New Amsterdam, Beacon Sound, Balmat, The Leaf Label, and Aagoo Records. As a person who stutters, Wyland’s approach to music is informed by his idiosyncratic relationship with language. Wyland believes deeply in the cathartic power of live performance as a means for collective healing. Through an interdisciplinary art practice that focuses on improvisation, somatic embodiment, bespoke tuning systems, the cadences of disfluent speech, and time manipulation technologies, he’s collaborated with choreographers, high-school choirs, filmmakers, sound designers, and renowned musicians such as John Niekrasz, Holland Andrews, Colin Stetson, and Abraham Gomez-Delgado. He’s also the co-creator of the “It’s A Fucking Miracle” dance class with Tahni Holt.
Wyland has toured nationally and internationally and performed at the Whitney Museum, Ecstatic Music Festival, Issue Project Room, PICA’s Time-Based Arts Festival, End of the Road Festival, and Les Nuits Botanique, among others.

"Entitled Silêncio, the new album is due in September and will arrive as a natural continuation of the first, featuring songs that had been left out as well as those that were part of Nigro's shows with the band. ""The songs have come to life. Today I feel more confident about doing my own thing, more assured. I want to propose this listening to silence, to the hidden subtleties that are revealed in existence"", he concludes.

Recording the first album was a personal adventure with an uncertain destination. Apocalip Se embodies this feeling of conducting an internal investigation, a rediscovery from the inside out. On the new album, the image on the cover is about being open, with your hands absorbing the outside, feeling the power of nature reflected in its greatness,"" Nigro reflects.

""I always woke up at 4 a.m. to the sound of a variety of birdsongs, and I kept thinking 'what are these birds saying? Do they even think about us?'"". The artist then composed the instrumental part with his guitar and sent it to the poet Eveline Sin suggesting this theme, and she responded years later, at the time of the recording of Apocalip Se. The song was formed in several movements, also bringing together pianist and partner Dustan Gallas, with a new arrangement featuring more than 20 musicians, taking the new version to another level of interpretation. As for the construction of the melodies, Nigro reflects: ""I think the voice is an instrument, a fascinating harmonic instrument"". In addition to producing for numerous well-known artists, such as Russo Passapusso, Francisco el Hombre, Curumin, and Anelis Assumpção, onalbums that have marked the history of independent Brazilian music, Zé Nigro has used his role as a singer as a long experiment in self-knowledge."

With "Ululo", pianist and composer Koki Nakano immerses us in the depths of his emotions, carried by the striking voices of Jordy, WAYNE SNOW and Yael Naim. For his fourth album, Japanese pianist and composer Koki Nakano moves beyond the conceptual to reveal an intimate and visceral musical expression, a reflection of his deep emotions. Each piece conveys the desire and passion of a cry. The title "Ululo" (which translates to "Howl" or "Cry" in Latin) echoes a childhood memory of being in his father"s arms, yearning to touch the moon. This unfulfilled desire, reminiscent of a famous haiku by famous poet Issa Kobayashi, symbolizes his early realization of his limitations in the face of the vastness of the world and the seemingly unattainable. Koki reinvents himself with a unique fusion of piano and modern vocal collaborations. He is joined by UK rap sensation Jordy and the captivating voices of WAYNE SNOW and Yael Naim. He offers an avant-garde music style distinguished by its emotional simplicity and sonic depth. Beyond virtuosity, Koki explores his classical sensibilities by blending subtle ambient textures with his poignant and sophisticated melodies. While "Ululo" is a cry of frustration with melancholic tones, it is also romantic, filled with beauty, humor, and light.

As a key representative of French neo-soul with ambitious intentions, the singer, songwriter, and composer Enchantée Julia has truly made her mark on the French scene with her second EP LONGO MAÏ, released in 2022 and available on vinyl for the first time. On this cathartic yet hedonistic project, whose title is a nod to her southern origins, she collaborates with the Saint-Etienne duo Terrenoire and rapper Benjamin Epps.

Julia places even more emphasis on vocal harmonies and sophisticated arrangements, whether on upbeat, sunny tracks or delicate, intimate ballads like "MOUSSA" (produced by The Hop), a personal and sensitive ode to the one she shares her life with—a mix of cathartic song and a message of hope, referencing the tough challenges they’ve faced together. The fear of happiness and love slipping through her fingers is also present in "VÉNUS," composed and arranged by Bastien Cabezon and Oscar Emch. As the opening track of the EP, it showcases Julia’s mastery in blending the French language with neo-soul influences from across the Atlantic, laying the foundation for a unique universe that unfolds throughout the project. The second single, "PLUS FORT QUE MOI," breaks down genre barriers: Julia’s enchanting voice is wrapped in a pop-driven production with electronic hints, crafted by Terrenoire. She continues this pop momentum with "QUESTIONS," where she releases her torments—both trivial and profound—over a groove-laden production with sharp percussion, courtesy of the much sought-after Parisian producer Crayon. Julia's bewitching voice shines on the bittersweet "SOS," which bears the scars of a past relationship. On "LONGO MAÏ," a dreamy ballad with trap-inspired rhythms, Enchantée Julia invites rapper Benjamin Epps for an anthem about brighter days ahead, reminding us of the importance of familial love. To close this second EP, Julia reunites with long-time friends, brothers Théo and Raphaël Herrerias, who form the duo Terrenoire. "TOUCHER TOI" forms a diptych with the track "MOUSSA" and reveals Julia's full potential, as she shines here in a French chanson style that she has previously explored less.

Following on from the House-infused punch of her Peach Discs release in June, Bristol’s Daisy Moon treats us to a shapeshifting debut on Timedance - entering a new era with a splash sure to be felt in most abyssal zones.

‘Shadow Of Silhouettes’ showcases a singular exploration of tough yet scintillating sounds, between wiggy electro, bass-laden grooves and inspired bursts of FWD techno- pop.

In this diverse body of work, Daisy’s vocals are the glue tying things together. They appear like sonic silhouettes, abstracted through sound design and unveiling a taste for the experimental. In other moments they are stripped from their abstract form and float above the surface, revealing Daisy Moon’s blossoming talent for ear-worm melodies.

For the first time two single records of Baksey Cham Krong - the first Cambodian guitar band - are officially being reissued in an identical version. Between surf music and ballad, these two records released in 1963 and 1964 are an invitation to rediscover the effervescent Khmer musical scene of the 1960s.

The early 1960s are often described as the “golden age” of Cambodia, with a flourishing economy and a strong cultural development. As the country had just won its independence, the King Norodom Sihanouk - who had been a singer himself (see below) - encouraged dynamism and creativity in all aspects of cultural life.

In 1959, in the midst of this artistic turmoil, Mol Kamach and his brothers created a band: the Baksey Cham Krong (also spelled Bakseis Cham Krung) named after a temple of the Angkor site. The teenagers were influenced by the latest hits they had listened on the radio. For the music, Kagnol got his inspiration from the rock n’ roll of the Ventures and the Shadows while Kamach took over the vocal techniques of crooners such as Paul Anka. The lyrics were either in French (as for the song Ne penser qu’à toi) or in Khmer. The song Pleine Lune became a hit and revealed Kagnol’s musical genius at playing guitar and Kamach’s delicate voice. From their beginnings on the capital’s high school stages to their first broadcasts on national radio, the success of the Baksey Cham Krong was very quick. At the end of the decade the band already split, the brothers getting back to activities that conformed more with their parents’ expectations.

A few years later, in April 1975, the arrival of the Khmer Rouge in Phnom Penh put an end to this musical development and started the darkest era of Cambodia’s contemporary history. A quarter of the population was killed in the Khmer Rouge genocide and the majority of artists and intellectuals were exterminated in a sordid will to wipe out any form of culture in the country. Films and music were banned, movie tapes and vinyls were destroyed. Mol Kamach and Mol Kagnol luckily managed to flee the country: one now lives in France, the other in the USA. Both still continue to make music nowadays.

Bearing witness to the past history, the reissue of these two single records of Baksey Cham Krong brings back to us the Cambodian musical scene of the 1960s.

Sometimes, in order to readjust yourself, you need to free yourself from what you know best and detox from your constantly connected life. In the case of Philipp Lorenz, it specifically came down to embracing the countless possibilities that buzz around the edges of today’s dance floors, sealing himself off from any new music, and leaving his familiar setting in Berlin in favor of making new experiences in Italy’s capital.

Lorenz is best known as one half of producer duo Feeling Valencia and the founding member of acclaimed club
outfit Gheist. Under the newfound Bi Disc moniker, he now reveals a musical spectrum that aims at nothing less
than offering the most authentic version of himself.

“Pieces, Falling“ marries the analog with the electronic, and hints at the numerous musical influences of the
renowned composer. Mixed by famed German producer Olaf Opal, the result is a beautiful, deeply personal, and triumphant album filled with cluttered collages made from strings, manic drumming, field recordings, vocals, and layered melodies. Where other producers try to effectively build their songs to something anthemic, Bi Discs debut delivers one elaborate, victorious climax instead, where nothing feels forced but deeply felt.

In the world of electronic dance music, Âme stand apart. Since 2003, the duo of Frank Wiedemann and Kristian Beyer have cut a singular path through techno, house, minimal, ambient and more with their anthemic singles and mixes. But 2018 reveals their finest achievement yet, their debut full-length album Dream House. It both sounds unmistakably like Âme and unlike anything you've ever heard from the duo, an evocative home listening journey enacted after 15 years spent crafting dancefloor weapons.

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" Via Negativa (in the doorway light). Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo's enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering - these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age. The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band's fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music's polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals." From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don't see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" Via Negativa (in the doorway light). Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo's enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering - these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age. The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band's fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music's polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals." From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don't see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" 'Via Negativa (in the doorway light)'. Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo’s enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering – these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age.

The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band’s fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music’s polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals."

From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don’t see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" 'Via Negativa (in the doorway light)'. Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo’s enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering – these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age.

The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band’s fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music’s polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals."

From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don’t see directly."

Music from Skalpel's iconic debut for Ninja Tune, reinterpreted by top Polish producers! 

Poland's ambassadors of jazz-inspired electronics invited outstanding local producers of downtempo, dance music, hip-hop, and jazz to remix this album. The result is "Recut," the best remix album in the history of Polish phonography. A record every bit as worthy as the historic original. It’s an extraordinary tale of the past and present of Polish electronic music.


This year marks the 20th anniversary of the release of Skalpel’s debut album, which was released by the famous British label Ninja Tune in 2004. The Polish duo, Marcin Cichy and Igor Pudło, gained international acclaim by venturing into the then lesser-known territory of Eastern European jazz, updating it with electronic tools.
Pitchfork praised the album enthusiastically: „On these tracks, Skalpel smudge the line between organic and electronic effortlessly, like a landscape artist working with charcoal, creating deep nuances of light and shadow that give the work its overall depth. (…)Its rhythmic dexterity and melodic sweep are hard to deny” -
The prestigious The Wire added: "Jazz, breaks, scat shuffles and funky riffs? of the highest standard. This release deserves to see them revered far beyond Poland"

Today, looking back over two decades, this album can be confidently considered a milestone in Polish electronica and a timeless classic of downtempo, nu-jazz, and trip-hop. Thanks to this record, the band also gained worldwide recognition, and their subsequent consistently high-quality albums like "Highlight" and "Origins" continue to attract significant interest.
Skalpel’s debut with Ninja Tune undoubtedly changed the face of Polish music, redefined the perception of the Polish jazz canon, and paved the way for younger creators. "Many of them, on 'Recut,' pay tribute to the enduring legacy of Marcin Cichy and Igor Pudło.
Artists like Magiera, Emade, 1988, Kixnare, Steez, Latarnik, Envee, Pejzaż, Etnobotanika, and others are now recognized names and respected figures in the Polish music scene. Though each of the artists invited by the Wrocław duo has developed their own original style, they find common roots in the duo’s music, on the border between jazz groove, hip-hop ease, downtempo moodiness, or ambient.
The excellent interpretations showcase the incredible potential revealed by Skalpel’s debut material, which continues to inspire new discoveries. This is a record that does not age, still captivates, and continues to inspire and provoke new interpretations.


Let’s RECUT this!!

The exact relationship between Henry (T-Bone Burnett) and Howard Coward (Elvis Costello) remains ambiguous. They often referred to themselves as “One and a Half Brothers,” which might hint at their height difference or imply they were not actually siblings but were involved in an elaborate ruse. Their musical partnership, known as The Coward Brothers, was initiated by Smiley “Doc” Snipson, who discovered Henry Coward in 1956 and signed him for a UK tour. The brothers' hit single, “My Baby Just Squeals (You Heel),” was followed by less successful records and a controversial Cold War-themed song. To preserve their fading fame, Snipson orchestrated their supposed death in a plane crash, but they were actually in hiding on a Caribbean island, secretly recording music and sending it back to Snipson. When their funds ran out, they returned to Miami and made sensational claims about writing famous songs, leading to a brief stint as songwriters for Bill Bogguss. They later resumed recording, but their partnership eventually fractured, leading to years of estrangement. Their music, from early rock and roll hits to later, more introspective songs, is compiled in the album, The Coward Brothers. After years of silence, their story was explored in a radio program, revealing the complexity of their relationship and their enduring bond. Despite their tumultuous history, their music remains a testament to their unyielding spirit. The Coward Brothers are Elvis Costello and T-Bone Burnett. The Audible Original radio play, The True Story Of The Coward Brothers, is directed by Christopher Guest, and stars Howard Coward, Henry Coward, Harry Shearer, Edward Hibbert, Rhea Seehorn, Stephen Root, and Kathreen Khavari.

In the beginning, THERE WAS DOOM. The five piece gathers its forces together with the clear intention of celebrating in music one of the first raw appearances of metal: Doom! After a year or so of songwriting and the usual lineup setups, the 5-piece throws in what will become their first studio effort in 2005: a Heavy, Drunken, Doom, Metal demo (with their 700 sold-out copies, now fully downloadable due to popular demand), where the title "Heavy Drunken Doom" clearly and quickly reveals the attitude of the band. Cold Grave Marble, the 6th Doomraiser full doom length, is a frozen view in the darker side of life: Death, the Omega of our earthly dimension. The album is made up of raw riffing seasoned up in heavy, dark and gloomy dreaming atmospheres, and explores a plethora of styles with different sounds and solutions. The songwriting approach is rougher than before, experimental, suggestive, still preserving the classic Doomraiser characteristic sound.

Ltd. Marbled Vinyl. In the beginning, THERE WAS DOOM. The five piece gathers its forces together with the clear intention of celebrating in music one of the first raw appearances of metal: Doom! After a year or so of songwriting and the usual lineup setups, the 5-piece throws in what will become their first studio effort in 2005: a Heavy, Drunken, Doom, Metal demo (with their 700 sold-out copies, now fully downloadable due to popular demand), where the title "Heavy Drunken Doom" clearly and quickly reveals the attitude of the band. Cold Grave Marble, the 6th Doomraiser full doom length, is a frozen view in the darker side of life: Death, the Omega of our earthly dimension. The album is made up of raw riffing seasoned up in heavy, dark and gloomy dreaming atmospheres, and explores a plethora of styles with different sounds and solutions. The songwriting approach is rougher than before, experimental, suggestive, still preserving the classic Doomraiser characteristic sound.

Ben Kaczor and Niculin Barandun reveal their debut album on Dial Records, dedicated to the healing properties of sound. »Pointed Frequencies« contains six mesmerizing compositions. The collaboration between Niculin Barandun and Ben Kaczor started in 2022 with a carte blanche for an audiovisual show at Digital Art Festival Zurich. While working on the performance, a common understanding of sound aesthetics emerged and the foundation for the duo’s project was laid. At that time Ben Kaczor studied sound therapy. Niculin Barandun was intrigued by the concept, and it became subject of the album's creation.

The intention behind »Pointed Frequencies« is to explore the therapeutic potential of binaural beats and solfeggio frequencies, providing listeners with a healing experience. These elements are subtly integrated into the recordings, becoming a freeform blend of experimental and ambient music. A contemporary approach suspends the esoteric background common in this field. Instead, the focus is on crafting a unique sound that is appealing to those seeking a more accessible form of musical recreation. With the dynamics of free improvisation, Ben Kaczor and Niculin Barandun create virtuosly interwoven sound structures. Ambient timbres evoke the presence of the room and create an experience of wordless thinking. An immersive journey invites the listener to sense of intimacy and movement. Calmness and contemplation, beauty and melancholy meet unconventional and stochastic scenes of dramatic character.

London based songwriter Louis Gardner offers his first mixtape, released via Goldsmiths University imprint NX Records. On For The Open Room, Gardner spirals artfully through outsider jazz, pop, folk and noise, landing sprawled in a territory all his own.

Tangled riffs and strange structures form the terrain for intimate, un-rugged vocals to float above. Starting life like brisk journal entries or misshapen doodles in digital fuzz, Gardner's stories bloom with stop-start tension, oscillating between tender and guttural, crude and complex.

For the open room captures a flow state of ideas, traces and associations - from the bubbling jazz congruence of "It's Hard", to plucked maximalist fragility on "Ten Zithers". Wrapping up with "Body Left in the Snow", Louis reveals mightily undulating piano chops - leaving us to wonder what else is withheld, and what might appear next.

Recommended for fans of Jandek, Mount Eerie, Arthur Russell.

Dischi Fantom’s Sussurra Luce series, blurring the boundaries between text, music and voice, returns with their fifth instalment, an expanded version of Hanne Lippard’s “Talk Shop”. Sculpting a fascinating bridge between radically experimental sound practice, conceptual art, and sound poetry, across its two sides the Berlin based multidisciplinary artist taps an almost dada sensibility, delivering a suite of poems and texts where singular words and sentences are looped and repeated creating a sensory experience of the efficiency and stress found in our private as well as public life.

Roughly a year ago, we had the pleasure of exploring the first two releases from Dischi Fantom’s emerging Sussurra Luce series, Ginevra Bompiani, Caterina Barbieri, and Tomoko Sauvage’s “Il Calore Animale” and Francesco Cavaliere’s “Zoomachia Disc 1”. An extension of the Milan based cultural platform Fantom’s broad and diverse activities (exhibitions, installations, performances, etc.) across numerous artistic disciplines, the series, curated by Francesco Cavaliere and Massimo Torrigiani, delves into the “science of imagination”, working with contemporary authors to explore and blur the boundaries between text, music and voice. Now the brilliant series returns with its latest entry, the Berlin based multidisciplinary artist Hanne Lippard’s “Talk Shop”. Released in a limited edition of 200 copies and coming with an LP-sized booklet, it combines orality and textuality with the idea of loop and repetition to explore the notion of time, and it’s a stunning gesture of performative poetics that plums a startling range of subjects through its sonorous forms.

Working across the fields of text, vocal performance, sound installation, printed objects and sculpture, for more than a decade Hanne Lippard has deployed language as the raw material for her work. Working within a practice that rests at the juncture of the spoken and written word, drawing upon content appropriated from the public sphere (found text) intertwined with her own words, Lippard’s work investigates how the rise in digital communication and mediation reprograms our relationship to language, presenting the subsequent fragility of language - its flaws, oddities, and potential for misinterpretation - and its attempts to convey meaning and sense.

“Talk Shop”, the fifth instalment of Dischi Fantom’s Sussurra Luce series and Lippard’s third recorded release - building upon the ground of 2020's “Work”, issued by Collapsing Market, and 2021's “PigeonPostParis”, released by Boomkat Editions - began as a live performance. Combining orality and textuality with the idea of loop and repetition to explore the notion of time, its relationship with the world of work today, and its personification through the experience of the human body - anonymity as the spearhead of the digital economy - the conceptual underpinnings of the piece depart from the notion that the human voice has become commodified by the ubiquitous nature of contemporary productivity, and intertwined with the mechanics of capital - the voices of satnavs, smart speakers and voicemail systems - while the written word has become increasingly anonymous online.

Addressing vocal anonymity as a spearhead of the digital economy, Lippard’s “Talk Shop” - regarded by the artist as “a compilation of poems and texts where singular words and sentences are looped and repeated creating a sensory experience of the efficiency and stress found in our private as well as public life” - taps an almost dada sensibility through its unexpected layers of meanings drawn from a maximalized approach to the potential of the human voice, creating an engrossing and challenging listen from the first sounding to the last, that continues to reveal itself and unfold with every return.

Sculpting a fascinating bridge between radically experimental sound practice, conceptual art, and sound poetry, it culminates as one of the most strikingly singular creative gestures we’re likely to encounter this year. Highly recommended and not to be missed.

Hanne Lippard (Milton Keynes, 1984) explores the social forms that govern discourse. Her artistic practice, which mainly takes the form of reading and sound installations, investigates the voice as an instrument of emancipation and alienation in times of hyper-connectivity. By mixing personal thoughts and appropriating texts from advertising, slogans and newspaper articles, the text becomes a mix of private and public that regains inventiveness and authorship through the use of the voice, becoming a body of its own. Her recent artistic research has focused on the use of the female body as a container of sounds, on the conscious and unconscious automation of speech and language.

12” paddling pool blue vinyl, is an edition of 500. CD Digifile. Following the runaway success of their critically acclaimed 2021 second album Contender, the question for fast-rising London four-piece Fightmilk was always going to be “what next?” With a tight indie-pop sound that defined their early recordings, the answer was obvious to a band who seem hellbent on the notion of evolve or die… The band originally formed in 2015 in a Brixton pub garden by Lily and Alex, who had both, separately, just been dumped and thought being in an angry punk band would cheer them up. Then they found Nick and Healey to hold the rhythm down and make them sound good. With three albums under their belt, they’ve perfected their chaotic, melodic brand of joy and rage-filled pop with full-throated yelling and sparkling guitar riffs as their trademark. They’ve graduated from angsty whippersnappers in their mid-twenties to overgrown teenage 30-somethings with mild ongoing back and shoulder pain. Their previous 2 albums Not With That Attitude (2018) & Contender (2021) marked them out as an ambitious and rising prospect, and now on their forthcoming new album No Souvenirs the band eschew their former Britpop ties and edge further into DIY punk and heavier rock influences to reveal a leaner, meaner, more abrasive side to their cathartic lo-fi anthems. Whilst collectively diving into their passion for Jimmy Eat World, frontwoman Lily Rae made a conscious decision to strengthen her “big loud yell” with influence from Alicia Bognanno (Bully), Nat Foster (Press Club), and Missy Dabice (Mannequin Pussy). “My voice is the biggest it’s ever been and I’m constantly thrilled when people are surprised at how loud I am, considering I’m so small in stature,” she grins. “Lyrically I always look to Bruce Springsteen for inspiration but I also really enjoyed the angsty candour of Sour by Olivia Rodrigo, and Kacey Musgraves’ impeccable one-liners.” There are a few genre experiments on the record—Yo La Tengo in ‘Paddling Pool’, ‘Canines’ is part The Strokes and part Neu!, and ‘Back From Tour’ was heavily influenced by long term friends Johnny Foreigner. “You could probably make a case for ‘Inferno’ having a bit of Counting Crows to it, but we were never writing to emulate,” explains guitarist Alex. “The references and touchstones just happened along the way. As far as we’re concerned, they just sound like Fightmilk - and that’s a really nice place to be nearly a decade in.” “That said, we’ve also been REALLY picky with the songs that made it onto the album - there’s probably an-other album’s worth of songs that didn’t feel right, even if we loved them. We got really good at finding the “magic thing” in each song that made it work.” Spilling over with candid lyrics about death, doomed love, and dog bites, framed by endless punk energy and the kind of full-throated riff-rock that sounds just at home in a giant stadium as it does in a sticky-floored toilet bar, No Souvenirs is a triumphant return from the band, who are equally enthused by the album. “I only realised after we put the songs together how personal to me this album was,” explains Lily. “Not just because I’m writing about extremely specific sitcom episodes in my life (getting fired from bridesmaid duty, being bitten on the arse by a dog, being relentlessly asked when I’m going to have kids), but because whilst we were making it, I turned 30. It’s a significant age for women, especially in music, because aside from being something called a ‘geriatric millennial’, there’s an unspoken rule that there’s a cut-off point for you to have ‘made it’ and after that you have to settle down and be normal.” For Lily, writing for the album also aligned with the 10th anniversary of the death of a close friend, with the resulting track ‘No Souvenirs’ lending its title to the album as a whole. “It had taken me that long to write about it in a way I felt ok with. But I realised that I couldn’t have written it before,” she explains. “I needed that distance, and that maturity, to be able to articulate those feelings. It feels to me now like the album is about scorched earth, moving on, taking nothing with you for the next ‘thing’ - and realising that getting older is a privilege.” Bringing a huge amount of energy and joy with them whenever and wherever they hit a stage, interacting with the audience is a vital part of the Fightmilk live experience. “Without people singing and dancing at us we wouldn’t have gigs at all, so we want everyone to get involved!” says Lily of the band’s future tour plans