Suche:revelation

Compiled by Philip King
“And then came the rise of synth pop : blokes with dodgy haircuts hunched over keyboard-operated
machines stuffed with wires and do-it-yourself tone oscillators making sounds like a brood of geese
passing gas in a wind tunnel. Whoopee! This is the way the ‘70s ended : not with a blood-curdling bang
bang but with a cheap, synthesized, emasculating whimper.”
NICK KENT, NME.

All The Young Droids: Junkshop Synth Pop 1978-1985 is a new compilation that charts the
underbelly of the epoch-defining sound of the synthesiser in 80s popular music. Compiled by Philip
King (previously seen compiling All The Young Droogs, Glitterbest and Boobs - The Junkshop
Glam Discotheque), the music here connects the dots between DIY synth enthusiasts grappling with
new, cheap synthesisers at the tail-end of punk and wannabe, jobbing songwriters enthral to the new
music pioneered by Gary Numan, Depeche Mode and Daniel Miller’s Mute Records. Featuring rare
tracks of auto-didactic progressive pop music, proto-techno punk, shoot-for-the-stars-land-in-the-gutter
chart flops and heralded, underground synth classics, School Daze paints a picture of beautiful failure.
Complete with extensive sleeve notes written by King and never before seen imagery, all 24 tracks
were remastered by RPM in-house engineer Simon Murphy, many from vinyl copies due to lost master
tapes. The story told on All The Young Droids is one of the dawning opportunity presented by both the
emergence to the market of cheaper analog synthesisers and the distribution networks plus indie labels
that exploded with the advent of punk music in 1976. While the music that sprouted out all over the
globe in the wake of these factors was decried as fake, plastic, a refutation of punk’s guitar-led
revolution, it’s telling that much of the music on All The Young Droids.. was created in bedrooms,
ramshackle studios and home-made set ups with often borrowed equipment. In the era of record labels
jumping to capitalise on the success of The Sex Pistols, The Clash (both on major labels, of course)
these artists struggled to stand out from a new gold-rush with next to no budget or PR team. With radio
and labels desperate for the new Yazoo, what resulted was a testament to necessity being the mother
of invention.

At the time, the synthesiser was the music of the future, a shiny new machine that could paint like an
orchestra with a single finger and a 4-track. In the hands of Manchester avant-pranksters Gerry & The
Holograms it’s a pulsing, sardonic weapon.. the only instrument on the Messthetics classic lampooning
of New Wave fashion. In Hamburg, a 16 year old Andreas Dorau used it to write and record (with his
female classmates on vocals) a global smash in Fred Vom Jupiter (later licensed to Mute Records).
The hard-to-find English version (Fred From Jupiter, natch) is included here. Many artists with alreadystoried careers caught the bug and recorded synthesiser-fuelled peons to space, computers, the future
and, of course, love-interests. Harry Kakoulli, late of Squeeze, recorded a solo album in 1979 that
included the incredible power-synth-pop smash-that-never-smashed I’m On A Rocket. Similarly, Ian
North of Neo and American Power Pop stalwarts Milk ’n’ Cookies bought a Korg MS20 and used a
tape machine to record We’re Not Lonely, an absolute lost-classic of minimal synth pop. We’re Not
Lonely also features on the Junkshop Synth Pop sampler 7” twinned with John Howard unreleased
track You Will See, released April 12th 2025.

There are plenty of compilation debuts in evidence. Sole Sister were a mysterious trio who were
featured on the Scaling Triangles compilation of female-fronted, queer-adjacent post-punk /
underground music that also featured The Petticoats. Selwin Image were from San Francisco and
featured members of the recently defunct power pop/punk group The Pushups. Their stupidly catchy
The Unknown fizzes with New Wave energy - think XTC to Sparks but remains unreleased until now.
Dream Unit’s A Drop In The Ocean is an early synth wave cut, positively teaming with Joy Division
instrumentation, previously only released on a long-forgotten and super rare, self-released EP.
Incandescent Luminaire’s Famous Names belies an archetypal struggle of a small-town trying to
make it in a cruel industry but is a thrilling New Romantic-Synth Wave cross over with a OMD
gloominess that’s a joy to hear. Feminist Minimal Wave track I Am A Time Bomb by performance artist
Peta Lilly and Michael Chance is a revelation destined for new found cult status. It was released on 7”
and lost until now.

The flipside to the subterranean, never-made-it synth pop mentioned above are the ambitious, even
fruity attempts at success that have a perennial elegance to their confidence. New Jersey-ite Billy
London (real name Ed Barth) tried to cash in on the synth boom with Woman, released by a major
label, a lurching new wave track built on the Louie Louie rhythm and a wonderfully camp Lou Reedstyle sleazy vocal before exploding in the synthesised chorus. The song bombed but with a chorus like
this, you have to wonder why? Ex-Glitter Band member John Springate’s My Life is truly epic, with
doomed chord progressions and massive sounding drums turning into at least 3 different songs in the
course of the track. Before you wonder what’s going on the song resolves with a glorious return to the
main refrain.

The dry-ice-dressed dance floor is well catered for too. Design’s Premonition and Vision’s Lucifer’s
Friend are stone-cold minimal synth bangers, well loved but given a new lease of life here. The
Warlord’s The Ultimate Warlord was released in 1978, a homespun proto Hi NRG banger that was
later re-recorded by The Immortals in Canada who had a club hit with it. One-man- band Disco
Volante’s No Motion was re-issued by Synth wave label Medical in 2012 but makes its first vinyl
compilation appearance here. Close your eyes and you can imagine what Lawrence of Felt would have
sounded like with some cheap Korgs a little earlier in his career. Gibraltar-based trio The Microbes
imagined a computer programming people to dance - how prescient - and ended up with a propulsive,
robo-funk track with splendid rubbery bass playing over a tectonic drum machine. Previously picked up
by Belgian label Stroom TV, Dee Jay Bert & Eagle’s heavily Euro-accented I Am Your Master
demands the listener to “come to paradise!” In a frankly terrifying manner.
All The Young Droids is the first compilation to peel away from the narrative that dour, Minimal Synth
and Cold Wave were the only musical children of the first rush of synth pop. Philip King and School
Daze Records describe a much more complicated world: along with the austere, Brutalist children of
Daniel Miller (who produced Alan Burnham’s Bowie-Low-influenced Science Fiction here) was a
plethora of desperate cash-ins, accidental mainstream hits, ambitious pop dramas and major label
punts that went nowhere. Crucially, the compilation blurs the line between junk and treasure. What if the
two things are interchangeable. What if it’s all science fiction?

“My hero’s back,” Madeline Kenney sings on the second track of her newest effort, Kiss from the Balcony. In a sense, she means herself; made with friends Ben Sloan and Stephen Patota across just a few in-person studio sessions in Oakland, these tracks represent a culmination of Madeline’s musings on growth and resilience reaching back years, brought to life through this generative and vibrant collaboration. Close listeners can hear the breadth of stylistic elements and themes carried through from various eras of her work, which all come together in a cohesive and timeless record.

In two week-long intensive sessions, the three collaborators grew these nine songs from fragments, sketches, and seeds. With a background in experimental percussion and sound design, Ben Sloan brings an electronic sound to Kenney’s writing; Stephen Patota provides ingenious guitar melodies throughout and grounds the project in acoustic elements. Kiss from the Balcony was originally intended to be an EP, but the sessions brought forth such fruitful ideation and play that the project was expanded to a full length album. It sits in Madeline’s discography as a thematic and musical progression that sees her iterate on ideas about love and explore new sonic motifs through her work with Patota and Sloan.

Much of Kiss from the Balcony is a meditation on modern relationships, a feminist and utterly human contemplation of power and who holds it. “Hereditary backward leaning,” she describes in ‘Slap,’ of the female condition; “But no-one ever likes to see the girls break down / So they keep it to the bathroom floor” she sings in the rapturous opener, ‘Scoop.’ While the songs are shrouded in metaphor, the ubiquity of heartbreak and resilience decode much of the internal conflict Kenney depicts. The album sees her recognize the precarity and peculiarity of life and take it by the horns, realizing she controls her own narrative:


She explores the relationships between joy and suffering, choosing to see them as inseparable, two sides of a single coin. “It’s never over / When will they love me?” Kenney asks on ‘They Go Wide,’ describing her positionality both as a woman in relationship and as an indie artist in the modern music industry.

A playful hopefulness pervades the record, providing a sense of revelation in the journey throughout, Kenney’s radical acceptance of life as it is like a lyrical tongue out at the absurd.

Domenique Dumont’s fourth album, Deux Paradis, arrives like the three that came before it – with an air of mystery and wonder. This is dance music for inner worlds – rituals, revelations and reveries.
Deux Paradis is a ten-track song cycle that leads the listener through the rhythm of a day, the bloom and fade of a relationship, or even the stages of a life.

It begins with a song about waking up – the candy-striped dub of “Enchantia” – and traces the sun’s arc with the pixelated reggae of “La Vie Va” and the sensuous rush of “Amants Ennemis”. As night falls, the songs take on a twilight quality in the
shimmering pop of “The Order of Invisible Things” and the seductive pulse of “Visages Visages” (a subtle nod to the Desireless classic). There’s also the baroque swoon of “Deux Paradis” and the soft exotica of “Visiteur de la Nuit”. Bolder and richer than before, it’s vintage Domenique Dumont – timeless and romantic, yet laced with an unplaceable sense of longing, like in an Éric Rohmer film. After the instrumental film score People On Sunday (Leaf, 2020) – composed solo by Arturs Liepins – singer Anete Stuce returns to Domenique Dumont, bringing her inimitable joie de vivre. Deux Paradis completes a trilogy of releases alongside Comme Ça (2015) and Miniatures De Auto Rhythm (2018) on the Antinote label.

Deux Paradis was composed, arranged and between 2022 and the end of 2024 in studios in Riga and Paris, and on the Estonian island of Hiiumaa.

For her second full-length as Plume Girl, Sowmya Somanath crafts a space where boundaries of language, feeling, and sound start to dissolve. ‘Unnameable Glory’ ruminates on the limits of expression, and the luminous freedom that emerges when we let go of the need to name. Elaborating on the exploratory songs of her debut, Plume Girl continues to bring together Hindustani classical improvisation, ambient soundscapes, and experimental pop.

Somanath’s voice—from gentle murmur to radiant call—guides the listener through dreamlike arrangements: sunrise guitar arpeggios, humming choirs, heartbeat kickdrums, and synths tremble. Elsewhere field sounds and old family recordings are collaged, a woman’s giggle transposed into a piano melody, a sloshing body of water mirrored by synth bleeps. Plume Girl conjures moments of revelation, drawing from the natural beauty and intuition, that unnameable glory.

Is there a divinity or a wholeness that exists beyond language, belief, or tradition? Unnameable Glory both celebrates and gently challenges the notion: Can we honour the creative richness of culture while also seeing through the divisions it creates? Can we meet the world—and each other—without assumption, without fear, with eyes made new? In these songs, the sacred is found not in grand gestures, but in the anonymous freedom of simply being: the iridescence of oil and water on a street, the smile of a stranger, the hush that settles by a creek.

At the heart of the album is a sense of curiosity and surrender—a willingness to listen without judgment, to let the moment be unnameable, to allow wonder to arise and dissolve. And yet, as Somanath notes, there’s an impulse to capture that’s tough to ignore; a need to replicate and remember. Unnameable Glory dwells in this tension: between holding and letting go, between the urge to define and the beauty of what cannot be contained. There is a quiet, revolutionary joy in simply living and sensing together. Music becomes a meeting place for the whole, the holy, and the unnamable.

Smut is the project of lyricist Tay Roebuck, guitarists Andie Min and Sam Ruschman, drummer Aidan O’Connor, and bassist John Steiner. Roebuck, Ruschman and Min started the band a decade ago in Cincinnati, Ohio. Since then, they’ve played alongside Bully, Wavves, and Nothing. After years in the Cincinnati DIY scene, they made their Bayonet Records full-length debut, How the Light Felt. The record was a revelation. Pitchfork called it “a rigorous, decade-spanning study,” and a “well-oiled spin on late-’80s guitar pop.” Under the Radar called it “pop perfection,” that “blends subtle hooks with wistful lyrics.” It was a record that explored grief through the lens of melancholic dreampop, using drum machines and layered, intricate melodies.
Tomorrow Comes Crashing, Smut's first record with O'Connor and Steiner, sees the band re-energized and trained on the limitless potential that comes with making music with people you love. Galvanized with a new lineup, Smut focused on creating a record that possessed the same towering intensity as the records that first got them into music: Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, Relationship of Command. The outcome is ten of their most intense, bombastic, and focused songs to date.
Catharsis bursts through the seams throughout Tomorrow Comes Crashing. “Syd Sweeney, ”inspired by the actress, is the record's centerpiece. It's about how profoundly strange it can be to be a woman, to be misunderstood by people who don’t even know you. The song is driven by chugging guitars and big, rolling drums. In other words: stadium rock about perception. Paramore meets Dookie. “She connects to the youth and the girls in the water/All she amounts to is someone’s daughter,” sings Roebuck in one particularly poetic moment. The song comes to a thrashing metal-inspired breakdown. It’s ecstatic.
To make the record, Smut recorded “as live as they could,” alongside Aron Kobayashi-Ritch(Momma) in a studio in Red Hook, Brooklyn, over the course of ten days. “We have so much energy right now,” says Roebuck. Right before they went off to New York, Roebuck and Min got married, with the rest of the band by their side. The recording was a true labor of love — driving from Chicago with all their equipment, returning from 12 hour studio days to sleep on friends' couches and floors, Roebuck completely blowing her voice by the end. Smut has always been DIY. Because they love it. Because they have to do it–there’s no other option. Tomorrow Comes Crashing is the culmination of that DIY spirit: making a record that completely encompasses the intensity, moodiness, and emotion of their journey so far.

4 Hardcore killerz of a kind !
Bangers with the first Frakass vinyl appearance !

Love in the time of collectively assured techno-capitalist-nuclear holocaust! It’s the endless summer the Brits have been harping on about since they think they won the World Cup. The soundtrack is the debut album of the Content Provider; where Octatrack illbient and industrial chanson mesh in a singed postcard addressed to the UK Border Force and co-signed by aliens plucked from the petri dishes of Young Echo, Cold Light and Avon Terror Corps.
It’s a name she tried to keep anonymous, but Drowned By Locals and Bokeh Versions are breaking contract to reveal that the Content Provider is in fact the shock production alias of DALI DE SAINT PAUL. Patron saint of Bristol’s self-destructive improv idols EP/64 as well as post-feminist chamber collective Viridian Ensemble, avant-terror duo Harrga and constant collaborator with the likes of *breathe* Moor Mother, Valentina Magaletti, Mariam Rezaei, Vincent Moon, Maxwell Sterling, Ossia, Ben Vince.
And isn’t it such a strange release? And won’t people be surprised? Endless Summer is grubby and heartfelt, defiant and hopeful, with flecks of warped reggae on E-System nudging the freeform dream balladry of A Feeling and Sunday Morning, Kode9 & Spaceape-worthy dread poetry of Close Ur Eyes next to anthemic electro-crush of Overdrive. Even to those that know her well, and EVERYONE with their belly in the Bristol underground knows her, Endless Summer is a revelation. Perhaps the apex of the known Dali-verse……where her live gigs have boiled with an experimental volcanic vocal force, Endless Summer is twisted, syrupy, sultry, POP.

"For Japanese people, min'yo is both the closest, and most distant, folk music" explains band-leader Katsumi Tanaka. "We may not feel it in our daily, urban lives, yet the melodies, the style of singing and the rhythm of the taiko drums are engrained in our DNA".

Initially indifferent to min'yo, a tragic event in recent Japanese history set Tanaka on his current path: "Following the Tohoku earthquake of 2011, I reflected on my life, work and identity. A fan of world music, I began searching for Japanese roots music I could identify with. Discovering mid-late 20th century acts like Hibari Misora, Chiemi Eri and the Tokyo Cuban Boys, I was captivated by their eccentric arrangements and how they mixed min'yo with latin and jazz music."

Lead singer Freddie Tsukamoto fell for min'yo after hearing a song from his hometown on a TV competition whilst in a restaurant. It was a revelation – until then he had been an aspiring jazz singer yet was uncomfortable singing in English. The restaurateur told him a min'yo teacher was his neighbour and the two connected. Tanaka and Freddie formed Minyo Crusaders in 2011 in Fussa, a city where the US military Yokota Air Base is located, in western Tokyo.

Recruiting other local musicians versed in afro and latin rhythms, they began hosting jam sessions at the Banana House, a building that was previously part of the military base and that used to house US soldiers. The band started recording their music, and their debut album "Echoes Of Japan" was released in 2017. It received huge acclaim in Japan and abroad, and was also released by British label Mais Um in 2019. Several European tours followed, as well as some US and South America gigs.

In this second opus, the Minyo Crusaders take us on a trip to Japanese folk songs fused with latin rhythms. Their unique arrangements breathe new life to classics like Kiso Bushi, Sado Okesa or Soran Bushi, among many other min'yo songs from all over Japan that were originally performed by Japanese fishermen, coal miners and sumo wrestlers hundreds of years ago. The magical groove created here proves once again that the Minyo Crusaders are one of the most dynamic representatives of the current Japanese world music scene. Yoi Yoi, Enjoy!

Belgian label Music Man Records presents Boccaccio Life 1987-1993, a new compilation offering a fresh perspective on the legacy of the iconic Belgian club Boccaccio - often associated with the short-lived New Beat movement. The 40-track compilation highlights the raw and futuristic early house and techno sounds that were heard in the pioneering club.

Located in rural Destelbergen (Belgium), just a stone's throw from Ghent, Boccaccio has secured its place among legendary venues like Paradise Garage in New York and The Haçienda in Manchester. Its bold fusion of emerging electronic genres such as New Beat, Acid, House, and Techno was way ahead of its time, drawing music lovers and clubbers from across Belgium and beyond. Sundays at Boccaccio were unlike anywhere else-offering sounds you couldn't hear anywhere else.

Boccaccio Life 1987-1993 is carefully curated by resident DJ Olivier Pieters and club regular Stefaan Vandenberghe, standing as the ultimate testament to a club that was more than just a venue. For those who experienced it, it was a community - a way of life. Hence the club's full name: Boccaccio Life.

This compilation stands as a testament to an innovative time in electronic music, capturing the raw, futuristic sounds of early house and techno. It sheds light on another side of Boccaccio, one that goes far beyond the short-lived New Beat scene. A carefully curated selection of 40 tracks, resonating with those who were there by offering familiar classics, while also reaching a new generation-those who never experienced it firsthand.

With tracks from Blake Baxter, Virgo, Frankie Knuckles, Tyree, and A GuyCalled Gerald, the unmistakable influence of black American pioneers is clear-the originators of the first analog house and techno sounds. On the other hand, UK sound innovators such as The Orb and LFO bring both sharp textures and rough breakbeats to the table.

Club staple tracks include dreamy excursions from Roger Sanchez under his Egotrip moniker, the relentless basement house of Circus Bells by Robert Armani on Dance Mania, an uplifting take on a hip-house cut from The D.O.C. (Portrait of A Masterpiece in the CJ Ed-Did-It Mix), a timeless remix of UK Formation's Age of Chance from 1994, and an alternate take on The Tape by Boccaccio club regular and Belgian producer Frank De Wulf, taken from his B-Sides project.

While not always the obvious hits, these tracks have gracefully withstood the test of time, and were exclusive to Sundays at Boccaccio. Now, they are finally available to experience together in one collection,offering a timeless snapshot of a unique era.

Multi-instrumentalist producer and songwriter Barney Keen makes music for the long drive and nature"s embrace; influenced by a dynamic range of styles including Brazilian MPB, experimental electronic music, folk and soul. Harbinger, his 10-track debut album, is a cinematic journey exploring imagination, revelations of the day-to-day and life itself; landing via London"s Touching Bass.

SLEEP THEORY"S meteoric rise since bursting onto the scene in 2023 has been nothing short of extraordinary. Their breakout single "Numb" smashed into the Top 10 on Active Rock Radio, introducing a sound that feels as polished as it is powerful-something most bands take years to master. Following that initial strike, tracks like "Fallout" and "Stuck in My Head" cemented their place as chart-topping heavyweights. But SLEEP THEORY isn"t just a studio phenomenon-they"ve cut their teeth on the road, delivering blistering performances alongside heavy hitters like Beartooth, Daughtry, and Falling in Reverse. From dominating festival stages at Welcome to Rockville and Sonic Temple to the electrifying chaos of Louder Than Life, their relentless touring schedule has forged a reputation for anthemic live shows that demand your attention. Now, 2025 is shaping up to be SLEEP THEORY"S defining year. Their highly anticipated debut album, Afterglow, drops May 16th, and it promises to be a revelation. Packed with razor-sharp songwriting, impeccable musicianship, and vocals that will leave you breathless, this is the record fans have been waiting for. With over 230 million streams and listeners devouring their music at a staggering 5 million streams weekly, Sleep Theory is on the verge of transcending rock"s boundaries to become one of the genre"s defining voices. Brace yourselves: Afterglow is more than just an album-it"s a statement of intent from a band destined to shake the foundations of modern rock.

Provoker return with Mausoleum. Refined, ornate and bigger than ever, Mausoleum takes Provoker's shadowy sound to new heights, aided by executive producer Kenny Beats. "Pop on the outside, dark on the inside". Embodied by the garish arcade machine on the cover, the songs on Mausoleum lure listeners in with addictive melodies and slick production, but hold them tight with the tales of heartbreak, loss and revelation within.

Spincycle records presents the second imprint on their label – a two track split EP from Neil E & Big City Bill on 180g heavyweight vinyl.

Bill and Neil met deep in the mountains 20 years ago.
With work drying up in the mountains, they tobogganed into the city to find their calling.

For years in dim garages, they studied with diligence strange hieroglyphs projected on the wall by the reflection of fluorescent lamps through emptied vessels.
At first, none of it made sense. All they knew was that it was important.

They began posting their findings online, and after a time of thinking they may have gone crazy, they began to receive anonymous messages: “Click here to join a guild of amazing artists: link redacted.”; “Follow me, and I’ll follow you back. Let’s grow together!”; “Do you want 10k+ follows? We can help!”
This was the encouragement they had been waiting so eagerly for. And so on they went. They joined a few guilds and continued to hone their practice, mining their depths, searching for that ineffable thing, whatever it was, wherever it was locked away.
After years of deep contemplation, the breaking of sacred tools, fiddling around, and the collection of various bevelled talismans, a revelation struck.

Two fantastic thoughts struck them both simultaneously.
These are those thoughts.

Following the hyperactive “Blood Karaoke” (2022, Reading Group), “Performing Belief” builds rhythmic thickets from gathered sounds interwoven with synths, drum machines and other samples. Having built these rhythmic nests, Krivchenia then called on two contemporary mages of the low end: electric bassist and fellow Angeleno Sam Wilkes (Wilkes/Gendel) and double bassist/multi-instrumentalist from Krivchenia’s native Chicago, Joshua Abrams (Natural Information Society). Wilkes and Abrams bring the presence of a grounding human witness to the rhythmic undergrowth, providing a centering and even at times melodic voice to the gathering. This alchemy carries a profoundly fresh sense of time, blurring the edges of the quantized grid and the generic boundaries of electronic music.

The core of the album is a lush, opulent matrix of percussion ranging from the familiar—hand claps and drum machines—to the mysteriously verdant, sampled largely from Krivchenia’s own performed field recorded collection. For years, he would record any and all of his musical encounters with natural objects: performing on a particularly resonant log on a hike, throwing rocks into a pristine pond, tap dancing in the mud. This archive of “natural” sounds became the fertile soil out of which the tracks on “Performing Belief” grew. What is gained in the process is not just a novel set of sounds, but a new rhythmic language. The particular give, the anticipatory rustle, the extra breath of a hollow log when functioning as a kickdrum provides a greenness that overtakes the rhythmic grid, giving this music a peculiar kind of stickiness. This rhythmic language, set in Krivchenia’s long-fermenting electronic musical palate, feels like a revelation, even while it calls back not only to his wonderfully elastic timekeeping behind the kit with his beloved band Big Thief, but also to his prior work in computer music as well as his deep study and love of the vast human archive of drumming. “Performing Belief” is in good company in the rank and file of the legendary Planet Mu label. From the foundational early releases of the likes of Jega and Venetian Snares, to the contemporary envelope-warping work of Jlin and hundreds of brilliant releases in between, Planet Mu has been a beacon of forward-thinking rhythmic music for decades, informing Krivchenia’s own sense of the weird metaphysics of musical time since he was a kid. Krivchenia’s contribution to this history calls to mind the principle of organic danceability that subtends Mu’s whole catalogue, while bending our sense of rhythm in new and gracious dimensions. Krivchenia brings out the loamy complexity of natural rhythms, a clearing as generous as it is inviting. Let the drummer give you some.

Depth.Request presents Lllneas' debut album, Buried Stories, a powerful 7-track odyssey through life's darkest shadows and most enlightening revelations.
This collection of works traces its origins back to 2018 when the concept of Lllneas was born. Long before the music was written, the idea and name carried the promise of an eventual catharsis, a release that would embody the untold stories and emotional complexities of its creator.
Each composition on Buried Stories weaves a vivid tapestry of experiences, shaped by contemporary events and echoes from the past. With remarkable intensity, Lllneas channels the raw emotions they evoke, transforming music into a catalyst for healing, reflection, and understanding. More than an album, Buried Stories is an unapologetic and honest expression of survival, self-acceptance, and transformation; a tribute to those who feel out of place, offering hope and validation to embrace their unique perspectives. This release marks a moment of liberation, a turning point that sheds light on an issue that deeply resonates with Lllneas: the devastating realities of domestic violence. The artist calls for courage, awareness, and immediate action, urging people to break free from cycles of abuse and fear.

Let Buried Stories inspire you to confront the untold and find freedom in your own truth.

To celebrate PigsX7 new album 'Death Hilarious', Rocket have reissued the bands long out of print debut album 'Feed The Rats' onto a special three colour splatter LP, so the 2025 repress comes on orange with red coloured plus black splatter on top vinyl. Playing their first gig supporting Goat at what was only the latter's second ever show, the band have gigged relentlessly with kindred spirits including The Cosmic Dead and Luminous Bodies, not to mention gracing festivals like Supernormal and Portugal's Reverence with their feral attack. This is their overwhelming first album - equal parts righteous repetition, bludgeoning brute force and Sabbathian squalor, its alchemical charge has the power to transform bleary-eyed abandon into small-hours revelation. This three-track, forty-minute monument of chaotic catharsis captures the spirit of the band's live manifestation whilst adding a level of finesse and texture. Channelling the grimy trip of Monster Magnet's pine Of God' through a prism of kraut-derived repetition and Part Chimp style bloodymindedness, the resulting hallucinatory vortex appears constantly on the realm of breaking point.Amps and brains alike, as these psychic omnivores bring seven times the joy, seven times the pain, seven times the dementia and deliverance.

If you are a celebrated progressive rock musician who has produced dozens of albums, how do you make an album that is different to what is usually expected? One answer is to work with musicians who also have decades of experience and worldwide recognition, plant a few seeds, then stand back and see what happens. For the Cosmic Cathedral project and their debut album ‘Deep Water’, this is exactly what Neal Morse did, joining up with Chester Thompson (Genesis), Phil Keaggy & Byron House. Much of the album was created from jam sessions where Morse’s long-time audio partner Jerry Guidroz put the best parts together, such as for the 38 minute epic, Deep Water Suite. Says Morse, “Time To Fly, also came directly from one of the jam sessions, where we took one of Phil’s ideas and all four of us elaborated on it.” What resulted from all this was a more groove-orientated feel, which Morse calls a “prog meets yacht rock meets The Beatles” kind of album, with an unmistakable jazz fusion influence: “These guys are real groovers: even if they're playing proggy stuff, it has more of a Steely Dan feel to it, but when Phil and I start singing it sounds like The Beatles!” Available as Limited CD Digipak, Gatefold 2LP & as Digital Album.

Rilo Kiley was born from hunger, from the insatiable desire to write one’s own story. The band’s origins can be traced back to Los Angeles in the late 1990s, when Jenny Lewis and Blake Sennett discovered a shared songwriting obsession and began performing together. After some starts and stops, a band was formed with Pierre “Duke” de Reeder playing bass. They called themselves Rilo Kiley, borrowing a name that came to Sennett in a dream.

For their second record, Rilo Kiley headed to Nebraska to record with Bright Eyes’ Mike Mogis alongside new drummer Jason Boesel. Here, Lewis truly becomes a generational songwriter, spinning interior mysteries regarding romance, depression, trauma, hope, and isolation into cathartic revelations. The Execution of All Things was a triumphant arrival.

Originally released in 2002, the celebrated and beloved album The Execution of All Things is a hallmark of indie rock. Hailed by fans and critics alike as an essential component to any record collection.

(10x12" box set, limited to 1000 copies, with premium finishing, uniquely numbered, incl. 10 records in individually printed sleeves, a booklet detailing the club's history & exclusive stickers) Boccaccio has secured its place among legendary venueslike Paradise Garage in New York and The Hacçinda in Manchester. Its bold fusion of emerging electronic genres such as New Beat, Acid, House, and Techno was way ahead of its time, drawing music lovers and clubbers from across Belgium and beyond.



Belgian label Music Man Records presents Boccaccio Life 1987-1993, a new compilation offering a fresh perspective on the legacy of the iconic Belgian club Boccaccio - often associated with the short-lived New Beat movement. The 40-track compilation highlights the raw and futuristic early house and techno sounds that were heard in the pioneering club.

Located in rural Destelbergen (Belgium), just a stone's throw from Ghent, Boccaccio has secured its place among legendary venues like Paradise Garage in New York and The Hacçinda in Manchester. Its bold fusion of emerging electronic genres such as New Beat, Acid, House, and Techno was way ahead of its time, drawing music lovers and clubbers from across Belgium and beyond. Sundays at Boccaccio were unlike anywhere else-offering sounds you couldn't hear anywhere else.

Boccaccio Life 1987-1993 is carefully curated by resident DJ Olivier Pieters and club regular Stefaan Vandenberghe, standing as the ultimate testament to a club that was more than just a venue. For those who experienced it, it was a community - a way of life. Hence the club's full name: Boccaccio Life.

This compilation stands as a testament to an innovative time in electronic music, capturing the raw, futuristic sounds of early house and techno. It sheds light on another side of Boccaccio, one that goes far beyond the short-lived New Beat scene. A carefully curated selection of 40 tracks, resonating with those who were there by offering familiar classics, while also reaching a new generation-those who never experienced it firsthand.

With tracks from Blake Baxter, Virgo, Frankie Knuckles, Tyree, and A Guy Called Gerald, the unmistakable influence of black American pioneers is clear-the originators of the firstanalog house and techno sounds. On the other hand, UK sound innovators such as The Orb and LFO bring both sharp textures and rough breakbeats to the table.

Club staple tracks include dreamy excursions from Roger Sanchez under his Egotrip moniker, the relentless basement house of Circus Bells by Robert Armani on Dance Mania, an uplifting take on a hip-house cut from The D.O.C. (Portrait of A Masterpiece in the CJ Ed-Did-It Mix), a timeless remix of UK Formation's Age of Chance from 1994, and an alternate take on The Tape by Boccaccio club regular and Belgian producer Frank De Wulf, taken from his B-Sides project.

While not always the obvious hits, these tracks have gracefully withstood the test of time, and were exclusive to Sundays at Boccaccio. Now, they are finally available to experience together in one collection, offering a timeless snapshot of a unique era.

past present (tone poems across time)" is Mark de Clive-Lowe's exquisite new solo album and his debut for Greg Boraman's Impressive Collective label in partnership with BBE Music. Previously the pair released the Pharoah Sanders tribute album 'Freedom', and the equally lauded 'Hotel San Claudio' in collaboration with Shigeto & Melanie Charles. A deeply personal sonic exploration by Mark, "past present" is a reflection on family, heritage, and healing which was created in tandem with retracing his late father’s journey across Japan 70 years ago. The project is a collection of ambient jazz, emotional cinematic soundscapes that weave analog synths with field recordings from Japanese sacred sites and nature locations. "past present” partially came into existence thanks to the perseverance of producer, percussionist and Mark’s friend Carlos Niño, who after experiencing Mark's multi-layered motifs in the studio and in live contexts over many years explains, "I kept hearing him make an album like this, I kept telling him that he needed to, and that it would be his best album yet. Subtle, poetic, solo, texturally rhythmic, expressive, full of rippling layers, and arrangements representing such profound thoughts, feelings, relationships, and memories". Mark also took on board Carlos' recommendation of recording the bulk of "past present" at Ken Barrientos’ analog synth studio, 'The Breath' in Pomona, California - where he utilized no less than 22 different keyboards to create the ethereal and engaging soundscapes across all 11 tracks, also intertwining his own field recordings made during a long, explorative stay in Japan. Being such an individual and personal concept, it was only correct that Mark wrote the extensive album liner notes, to fully illustrate the decades-long backstory to this stunning collection. Mark completes the album's presentation using archive images from his family's private photo collection - an entire process he likens to time travel and signs off to the listener by stating that he hopes "it takes you on your own journey of imagination and reflection, leading to unexpected places, just as it has for me

Carrying on their longstanding dedication to the seminal output of Merzbow, Urashima returns with what is unquestionably their most ambitious release to date: “Collection 001-010”, a deluxe, 10 LP vinyl box set limited to 299 copies, gathering together the entirety of the project’s first ten releases, originally released in 1981. Encountering the band in its early incarnation of the duo of Masami Akita and Kiyoshi Mizutani, raw, exposed and bristling with energy, foreshadowing numerous trajectories they would follow over the coming years, these astounding full lengths - the majority of which have never been released on vinyl - come housed in a beautifully produced, deluxe wooden box, with each LP in its own individual sleeve reproducing the original artwork, and a LP-sized 32-page book containing reproductions of artworls and collages by Masami Akita, an interview conducted by Jim O'Rourke, and liner notes penned by Lasse Marhaug, Thurston Moore, and Akita himself, amounting to what is unquestionably one of the most historically significant releases we’re likely to encounter in 2025.

Deluxe Edition of 299 copies, remastered from the original analog tapes by Masami Akita, each LP comes in its individual sleeve reproducing the original artwork, also includes a LP-sized 32-page book. ** Since its founding during the late 2000s, the Italian imprint, Urashima, has become a definitive voice in the landscape of noise. Bringing forth beautiful limited edition releases, they’ve sculpted a singular vision of one of the most vibrant and revolutionary bodies of experimental sound to have graced the globe. Among the many projects that they have supported over the decades, there has been an undeniable dedication to the output of the seminal Japanese noise outfit, Merzbow, making a significant amount of the project’s out of print back catalog available across a range of formats. Now they return with what is arguably their most stunning and ambitious release dedicated to the project to date: “Collection 001-010”, gathering the entirety of Merzbow’s first ten releases, largely privately released by the band on cassette across 1981, in a deluxe, 10 LP vinyl box set. Representing what is effectively ground zero in Japanese noise and collectively amounting to some of the most sought after releases ever produced within that movement, Urashima’s truly beautiful collection comes fully remastered by Masami Akita himself from the original tapes, presenting all but a small number in their first ever vinyl pressings, with each LP housed in its own individual sleeve reproducing the original artwork, alongside a LP-sized 32-page book containing reproductions of artworks and collages by Masami Akita, an interview conducted by Jim O'Rourke, and liner notes penned by Lasse Marhaug, Thurston Moore and Akita himself. Towering with energy and groundbreaking creative vision, within the realms of noise and experimental music, releases don’t get more monumental or historically important than this!

Merzbow came roaring onto the Tokyo scene in 1979, and remains, to this day, one of the most prolific and aggressively forward-thinking projects in experimental music. Eventually becoming the solo vehicle for the efforts of Masami Akita, in its earliest incarnation the project was the duo of Akita and Kiyoshi Mizutani, taking their name from German artist Kurt Schwitters' pre-war architectural assemblage, The Cathedral of Erotic Misery or Merzbau, and quickly set out to challenge entrenched notions of what music could be. Embracing technology and the machine, even in its earliest iterations, Merzbow pushed toward new territories of the extreme, arriving at a space of pure, unadulterated sonic onslaught that has continued, for over 40 years, to set the pace for the entire genre of noise, and has remained one of the movement’s most important, definitive voices, continuously laying the groundwork for countless artists who have followed in its wake.

When dealing with historical gestures, there’s an invertible aura surrounding original line-ups and early statements, and rightfully so. It is often within a band’s debut that we catch the purest glimpse of the raw energy and creative ferment that made them what they are. This is certainly the case when regarding the coveted early releases of Merzbow, capturing the emergence of the project in its form as the duo of Masami Akita and Kiyoshi Mizutani as they helped set the blue print from the then emerging movement of Japanese noise. Over the course of its nearly five decades of activity, Merzbow has always been noted for how prolific and ambitious the project is. This was no less the case in the very beginning. While they were active for roughly two years prior, in 1981 alone they issued ten self-released cassettes numerically titled “Collection 001-010”, albums which have both individually and collectively become holy grails in the realms of noise, with only two - “Collection 007” and “Collection 009” - ever receiving vinyl reissues prior to now.

As Lasse Marhaug deftly articulates in the newly commissioned liner notes for “Collection 001-010”, despite having been recorded in different location across a span of time, the sum total of Merzbow’s first ten releases might be best regarded as a single release to be listened to in the same, durational sitting, with the material standing well apart from what most came to expect from Merzbow, while foreshadowing numerous trajectories the project would take over the coming years. Not only do these recordings feature a vast array of instrumentation - tapes, acoustic and electric guitar, violin, drums, voice, recorder, organ, found sounds, clarinet, homemade and prepared instruments, a vast arsenal of effects and electronics, and piano, to only begin to scratch the surface - the majority of which would disappear from the project’s active sources of sound generation over the subsequent years, but there is a slow pacing and raw sense of openness and exposure that reveals strong connections to the avant-garde improvisations of groups like AMM, Musica Elettronica Viva, and Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza, the psychedelia of groups like Taj Mahal Travellers and Flower Traveling band (both of whom Akita mentions having seen in youth within his interview with Jim O’Rourke), and rock in general - albeit in fully abstracted forms - unspooling as brittle, pointillistic, textural, raw and abrasive forms, that occasionally flirts with unexpected tonal sensibilities. As Marhaug describes it in his excellent liner notes: «Sonically, “Collection” sounds more sparse and stripped. It’s dry sounding, up-front, no reverb, and there’s less heavy low-end grime and thin on the signature frequency sweeps. Viewed in a 1981 context, musically, it’s more akin to what the LAFMS (Los Angeles Free Music Society) pool of artists were doing at that time than what was happening in industrial music... There’s a strong playfulness throughout, like the sound objects are being explored for the first time, without neither restraint nor hurry. Events are allowed to be fully examined before the music moves on, or simply cuts off. To a large degree, the music on “Collection” feels acoustic in nature, although a Electro-Harmonix ring-modulator features prominently throughout.»

Easily described as a rarely encountered revelation into the original and earlier documented studio sound of Merzbow, “Collection 001-010” collectively amounts to an engrossing sonic journey in its own right, while also allowing for important, often overlooked connections drawn from numerous other creative wellsprings, notably free jazz, underground rock, the output of European and Japanese avant-garde music, as well as Dada, Fluxus, and Mail Art, much of which, beyond the illumination made possible by the sounds, Jim O’Rourke’s fantastic interview with Akita, published in the booklet, further explores, offering great insights into the origins of Merzbow and the thinking behind the project, as well as aspects of the earliest days of Japanese noise.

Cult musician Paddy Hanna announces his forthcoming album Oylegate with the release of his new song ‘Oylegate Station’, out Wednesday, 29th January via Strange Brew Records.

In celebration of Oylegate, which arrives on Friday, 11th April, Hanna plays Whelans on Thursday, 17th April. Tickets are €21.95 + fees and can be purchased here.

After his fourth album, Imagine I’m Hoping, arrived to critical acclaim but not the mainstream success needed for him to continue on as a musician, Hanna found himself at a personal and artistic low point. However, thanks to support from the Arts Council and the encouragement of his family, ‘Oylegate Station’ sees Hanna returning as the intrepid captain of his own ship; he may not know the destination, but he’ll see us along the journey with his graceful pop sensibilities.

Speaking about the new track, Hanna’s cryptic explanation could be confused for a missive from a lonely cosmonaut: “Low rent fuel, caffeine of all shapes, the midpoint of hope and despair, engine still running at Oylegate Station.”
Elation and exhaustion. Love and terror. The weight of responsibility and the strange, disorienting beauty of watching life unfold before your eyes. OLYEGATE, the latest album from Paddy Hanna, is a journey through the euphoric highs and crushing lows of parenthood, delivered with his signature blend of melancholic wit and lush, off-kilter charm.

Determined to sidestep the usual sentimental trappings of writing about having a child, Hanna found an unlikely creative companion in grim Soviet-era cinema. As he wrote, films like Solaris flickered in the background—bleak, meditative landscapes that mirrored the depths of sleep deprivation and the existential wonder of bringing a new life into the world. This contrast of warmth and detachment, of intimate revelation and surreal detour, courses through the album’s DNA.

Despite its moments of cold introspection, OLYEGATE is sonically rich and enveloping—an effect captured in a single request to producer Daniel Fox: "sweet, sweet caramel." Hanna wanted the music to feel like satin lining the listener’s ears, wrapping them in warmth even when the themes tilt towards darkness.

True to form, OLYEGATE marks yet another creative leap for an artist who refuses to be boxed in. "One advantage of being an ‘artist’s artist’ is that you never have to worry about being creatively different between albums. There's real freedom in doing whatever you want and not being judged for it. And even if you are judged, who gives a shit?"

That spirit of fearless exploration—of finding joy in the unknown, the absurd, and the deeply personal—defines OLYEGATE. An odyssey of tenderness and turbulence, it’s the sound of an artist embracing life’s messiest, most beautiful contradictions.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

After a 30-year interstellar silence, the enigmatic producer Alien Signal—pioneering alias of Italian electronic composer Alex Silvi—reemerges with Whispers from Distant Suns, a transcendent odyssey that bridges retro-futurism and modern electronica. Hailed as a magnum opus, this album transcends genre boundaries, captivating ambient purists, downtempo aficionados, and even experimental listeners with its hypnotic fusion of analog warmth and digital precision.

Cosmic Tapestry of Sound
Drawing comparisons to Vangelis’ Antarctica and Alpha—but reimagined through a 21stcentury lens—Whispers from Distant Suns marries nostalgic synth textures with cuttingedge production. Silvi’s mastery of melody shines through in tracks like “Stardust
Memories” and “Fragile Eden” where shimmering arpeggios and celestial pads drift over robotic, glitch-infused drum patterns and sparse, meditative percussion. The result is a paradox: a retro-futuristic soundscape that feels simultaneously ancient and alien, familiar yet unexplored.

Listener Testimonials
Fans and critics have flooded forums with praise:

“An auditory revelation! It’s like Vangelis met Jon Hopkins in a nebula—vintage soul with a futuristic heartbeat.”
“The textures are gorgeously cinematic. Closing your eyes, you’re adrift in a Tarkovsky film scored for the Andromeda galaxy.”

The Vinyl Experience
Pressed on heavyweight vinyl, the album’s physical release amplifies its immersive qualities. The gatefold sleeve, adorned with surrealist astrophotography and metallic
foiling, mirrors the music’s cosmic ethos. Side A leans into Balearic serenity, with sundappled grooves and aquatic synth ripples, while Side B delves into darker, more
experimental terrain—think Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works colliding with the organic rhythms of Jon Hopkins.

Maturity in Motion
This album is a testament to Silvi’s evolution. Tracks like “Seeds Of Light” and “Message from Andromeda Galaxy” showcase his refined ear for dynamics, balancing silence and sound with surgical precision. Vintage drum machines spar with glitches, while field recordings of crashing waves and interstellar static blur the line between Earth and cosmos. The closing track, “The Star Charts We Shared” crescendos into a 6-minute ambient requiem, leaving listeners suspended in a state of weightless awe.

Final Transmission
Whispers from Distant Suns is more than an album—it’s a transcendent odyssey. Spanning time, space, and the artist’s own creative evolution, this immersive work invites listeners to lose themselves in its ebb and flow. Designed for moments both intimate and expansive, its balearic-tinged atmospheres resonate equally through dawnlit Mediterranean terraces or the solitary glow of headphones in darkness. These are compositions that pulse, morph, and haunt the air long after the final note fades. A living soundscape meant to accompany life’s quiet revelations and clandestine joys—a soundtrack to your most personal moments, crafted as what the artist calls ‘private dance music.’

Tailored for the Discerning Listener
Whispers from Distant Suns is designed with the true connoisseur in mind. This album is a must-have for:

Vinyl Collectors & Audiophiles: Those who value the warmth and tactile experience of heavyweight, limited edition pressings
Electronic Ambient and Downtempo Fans: Listeners who appreciate immersive soundscapes that merge retro analog charm with modern digital innovation.
Retro-Futurism Enthusiasts: Fans of pioneering artists like Vangelis, Boards of Canada, and early Warp Records who seek music that bridges nostalgic synth textures with futuristic experimentation.
Experimental Music Explorers: Individuals drawn to sonic narratives that invite deep, contemplative listening—perfect for both introspective moments and immersive listening sessions.
This release is not just an album; it’s a curated experience for those who desire music as a multidimensional art form, merging the vintage allure of analog sound with a contemporary, cosmic vision.

For fans of: Vangelis, Biosphere, Jon Hopkins, early Warp Records.

Sunset edition - 300 copies

Driving is Sam Wilkes’ Indie Rock record. Iit is the first release on Wilkes Records, an imprint borne of the artist’s emergent need to self-release. The songs presented here exist comfortably within the ever-expanding Wilkesian cosmos, characterized as they are by virtuosity, torqued experimentalism, and collaboration with a range of talented musicians. But Driving’s influences, its sincerity, and its allegiance to a certain pop sensibility reflects a departure for an artist who has primarily staked his claim within the experimental jazz idiom.

Take the first track, “Folk Home,” which inaugurates the album’s fecundity—a bright, green, humid, summer feel. A swirling, freakout coda of reversed vocals gives way, in no short order, to a caterwaul of flute work that conjures Van Morrison’s (in)famous Astral Weeks sessions. Standing beside Morrison, the usual suspects are all present, if somewhat abstractedly. Dylan, The Dead, Joni, the Fab Four. Wilkes has developed a reputation as an experimental jazz luminary, but his deep affinity for the pop/rock/folk idiom of the latter twentieth century rings clear throughout Driving. More so than any Wilkes release to date, Driving is a collection guided by and dedicated to the man’s attention to songcraft.

Written and recorded during a period of rain-damage induced renter’s itinerance (and the attendant desire to produce a kind of therapeutic, self-soothing, home-feeling music), Driving loosely charts the trajectory/experience of “a protagonist,” both Wilkes and not, “who has figured out how to live an enlightened and fulfilled life, but is unable to do so because he thinks about it too much.” This friction is surely relatable — a symptom of our compulsively self-aware present. But Wilkes avoids the obvious pitfalls of public hand-wringing. Rather, Driving’s nine tracks evince a genuine, and mature searching-ness, both sonically and lyrically. The ending refrain of “Own” serves like something close to a thesis— “Letting go // isn’t a concept // it’s an action.” In an attempt to beat back ego, hyper-cogitation, language itself, Wilkes arrives at an axiom that feels so true and familiar, you’d swear you’d heard it one hundred times before.

Driving’s final third is, fittingly, its most emotive and cathartic. Tracks seven and eight, “Again, Again” and “And Again,” form a diptych, joined most obviously by the jangling, recursive grooves of guitarist Daryl Johns. Wilkes is said to have encouraged Johns to go “full Lindsey Buckingham” (clearly a welcome and resonant prompt), but one also catches stray Knopfler vibes, some intermittent Fripp, and (perhaps more-so in tone than technique) the spirit of DIY prophet and jangling man himself, Martin Newell (the Cleaners from Venus). Wilkes has stated that he finds joy in creating musical environments suitable to the contribution and flourishing of his favorite musicians. Throughout Driving, and in these two tracks especially, he has more than succeeded.

The record closes with the titular track: a story-song that, according to Wilkes, poured out of him (melody, composition, and lyrics) in a single sitting. The tale is told plainly, bravely, starkly; a mistake was made, regrets have been had, and all is wrapped up in the recollection of a deeply felt adolescent heartsickness—a time when the narrator was first afire with music and automotive freedom. The song captures the moment when meaning inexplicably falls into place, when a long-nagging memory suddenly assumes narrative form, and the subsequent sense of lightness and unburdening. It is fitting that Driving, a record conceived as a form of self-therapy, should culminate with a sense of humble revelation. That Wilkes is plainly eager to share the vulnerable fruits of this labor constitutes Driving’s joyful offering.

Words by Emmett Shoemaker

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Actual Earth Music - Volume 1 & 2’ presents two caustic, yet alluringly unreal live sets from Canadian noise-rock entropy hunters Earth Ball. Following on from the group’s critically appraised ‘It’s Yours’ LP (released 2024 on Upset The Rhythm - UTR164) this release captures the band at the peak of their powers, playing live, composing spontaneously.
Side A features Earth Ball live at The Fox Cabaret in Vancouver, supporting Wolf Eyes on August 4, 2023. Jeremy Van Wyck from the band considers this “the gig that sent us into orbit, really. Causing Olson & Young to wax poetic about our interstellar jams to a fine bloke across the big sea. Upsetting our casual rhythm and forcing our hand. All that talk led to an LP, ‘It’s Yours’, and a full UK tour the following spring”.
Now, with the birth of this live series ‘Actual Earth Music’, it seems only fitting that Volume 1 should be this gig. It’s a doozy. Listening back is a pure revelation. Earth Ball whip up a vortex of thrashing wild energy, the ecstatic release is off the charts. “You don’t always catch every nuance of the jams as they come down. I mean, this one felt good, but upon listening back to the tapes, it sounded very good” confides Jeremy. “It reminded me of Von Trier’s Melancholia: the sound of a large sphere coming toward you to bring doom. However, this one reverses course, heading away to some other shore, bathing you in reflective bliss before saying goodbye—instead of ending humanity as we know it”.
Volume 2 occupies Side B of this LP, showcasing a collaborative summit from the second night of their recent Café OTO residency on May 21, 2024. This event featured Earth Ball laying down three separate sets—all collaborations. This second recording presents their opening performance and features pivotal UK improv luminary Steve Beresford on piano and free-jazz phenomenon Chris Corsano on drums.
Running Time: 42 mins

Bursting forth from the darkness of this pre-apocalyptic winter comes 'The Cabanists', the first release of an improvisational project of the same name, comprising three members of the UK's seminal avant-rock band, Nøught. Garnering a cult following since their initial self-titled debut, Nøught became known in the London experimental underground for their tightly orchestrated yet highly complex compositions, ranging from heavy atonal riffage to mesmerizing and hypnotic meditations. 'The Cabanists' builds on Nøught's musical language and are a boundary-pushing trio fusing intricate guitar riffs, dynamic keyboard textures and explosive percussion into a sound that defies convention. Featuring James Sedwards on guitar (most recently known for his involvement with the Thurston Moore Group and This Is Not This Heat), Luke Barlow on keyboards (who co-runs Copepod Records with musician Alex Ward) and Bo Mapper on drums, the band recorded their groundbreaking material during an extended session at London's Lonely Man Studio, marking a defining moment in their musical journey.

With influences spanning progressive rock, experimental jazz and post-punk energy, The Cabanists weave a sonic tapestry that is as cerebral as it is visceral. They challenge standard rock and jazz norms while crafting deeply resonant soundscapes, inviting listeners into a thrilling journey of sound and intense emotion.

Prepare to lose yourself in the intricate chaos and undeniable groove of 'The Cabanists' - where every note is a revelation.

2LP - 180 Gram Vinyl Trumpet player, pianist, composer, producer, and DJ born in Ibiza, Pere Navarro is recognized as one of the brightest young talents in the Spanish jazz scene and a rising name in Europe. Known for his innovative and experimental approach, Navarro masterfully blends the sophistication of Black American Music with the eclectic essence of Ibiza, his homeland, crafting a sound that is both unique and boundary-pushing. His music - fresh, emotional, and accessible - resonates effortlessly with audiences, delivering a truly one-of-a-kind experience in every performance. With the addition of this third album to his discography, Navarro has solidified his place as an original and unmistakable voice in the jazz world, gaining recognition at international festivals and collaborating with artists across diverse genres.

2LP - 180 Gram Vinyl Trumpet player, pianist, composer, producer, and DJ born in Ibiza, Pere Navarro is recognized as one of the brightest young talents in the Spanish jazz scene and a rising name in Europe. Known for his innovative and experimental approach, Navarro masterfully blends the sophistication of Black American Music with the eclectic essence of Ibiza, his homeland, crafting a sound that is both unique and boundary-pushing. His music - fresh, emotional, and accessible - resonates effortlessly with audiences, delivering a truly one-of-a-kind experience in every performance. With the addition of this third album to his discography, Navarro has solidified his place as an original and unmistakable voice in the jazz world, gaining recognition at international festivals and collaborating with artists across diverse genres.

Lucien Kimono fully composed the original soundtrack for Season 2 of Amours Solitaires, which aired on Arte and France TV in November.

Initially a popular Instagram account before becoming a French Euphoria-style drama, the series follows the romantic wanderings of its young protagonists. From ultra-modern synthetic arpeggios to warm, nostalgic Rhodes melodies, 18 tracks map out their joys, sorrows, and orgasms.

Denison Witmer returns with a new collection of ten vibrant and pensive folk-pop songs recorded and produced by Sufjan Stevens, his long-time friend and collaborator. Anything At All finds Denison in a suitably reflective mood, mining sublime revelation from an ordinary, domesticated life. Topics like bird watching, carpentry, houseplants, and hiking offer insights into bigger, existential questions about life, death, meaning, and purpose. What are we doing with the precious time we have left on this earth? Whether it's spent making clocks, gathering berries, planting trees, or putting the kids to bed at night, these songs suggest that a life lived with thoughtfulness and care can lead to deeper joy and fulfillment. Recorded sporadically over a period of two years, Anything At All was primarily created at Sufjan's Catskills studio during the pandemic, with additional sessions recorded by Andy Park, in Seattle, WA. Contributors include Stevens and Park as well as Sam Evian, Hannah Cohen, Sean Lane, and Keenan O'Meara, amongst others. The album's musical aesthetic marries Denison's folksy, Mennonite vibe with Sufjan's signature bells and whistles: lush strings and woodwinds, women's choir, and an occasional jazzy saxophone weave their way around Denison's matter-of-fact vocals and acoustic guitar. These are simple folk songs with bursts of awe and wonder.

The Durutti Column, Linda Perhacs, Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Judee Sill. Hello and welcome to Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking, the new record by Lina Tullgren. It is a deeply gorgeous intervention, a carefully ornamented dilemma, the most inviting crisis. Made with a host of Los Angeles musicians, Decide exposes Tullgren's daring and trust. Each song is a ring of curious sound: the skip of harp strings, the flutter of woodwinds, the ratchet of percussion, the euphonium's sigh. And at the center of each wreath, Tullgren sings, finding this space between Judee Sill and Sam Jayne. It's a tone that signals weariness, but a weariness hand-in-hand with tenacity. There's a clarity, a kind of immovability. Lina Tullgren's first record came in 2016, a homemade, under-the-skin set of laments. Subsequent LPs and constant touring cemented Tullgren's reputation as a composer of "wide-eyed wonder paired with a resonant despair." 2019's Free Cell showed Tullgren lingering in the margins of their songs, finding places both aloof and spare. Floodgates opened; Tullgren spent the subsequent years exploring deep listening, improvised music, and extended technique. They developed a patience and faith in cooperation that ranged at the far edge of song. Collaborations with Mayo Thompson and Claire Rousay furthered this development. This was not a break with the past for Tullgren, rather it was an opportunity to see how far a song could go. And from that distance, deep in a landscape of drone and tension, Tullgren returned to the bright vulnerability of a lyric and a hook. Weaving together the affective and the radical, Tullgren took the quiet isolation of a shoreline cabin to write the songs that would become Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking. For Tullgren, Decide is a culmination of all the work they've done throughout their life: the melodic, the dense, the confessional, the unknowable. It's also a tribute to collaboration. Describing the sessions as having "a lot of space and a lot of ease,"" Tullgren invited musicians from a vast field of songmaking to play on the recording: Leng Bian, Zach Burba, Luke Csehak, Corey Fogel, Jenny Hirons, Tara Milch, Tim Ramsey, Michael Sachs, Jude Tedaldi, Marta Tiesenga and Ben Varian. Jonny Kosmo's backhouse was offered as a cozy, easygoing space for the players to create their parts together, and the record was completed by Tullgren and Luke Csehak together at their Los Angeles home. In Tullgren's words: "I feel really strongly that this album is a portrait of the community I found in Los Angeles." Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking is a quiet masterpiece: a generous, memorable journey. It is the result of five years of labor, the product of abandoning the pop song entirely and starting over. Whatever wanderings or doubt fueled it, Decide is also entirely at ease: a record on which Tullgren sings "and I know/what to do now" and "I know exactly what to do" in subsequent songs, clear in the revelations this path has given the

Four silhouettes levitating above an endless expanse of sand, their movements being captured like stolen from time, that is the cover image of Later.’s sophomore album ‘Golden Bay’. This striking visual sets the tone for an album that delves into profound themes—exploring the sacred, the transformative power of music, and love as a gateway to an inner world. It offers a dreamlike escape into a world governed by instinct, passion, and freedom. ‘Golden Bay’ stands out with its distinctive fusion of electronic-pop, gospel, and rock influences. The prominent use of synthetic sounds intertwined with organic elements creates this warm feeling of being at the heart of Later.’s imagination. Lyrically, the album is infused with a blend of sensuality and raw honesty, retaining the unfiltered emotion that has become a hallmark of Later.’s music.

Quote from the band : “This whole album was built like a trip. After our first album it was hard for us to figure out where we wanted to go musically. We never made as many demos and drafts- almost forty or fifty - for any release before. Then suddenly Paul played a guitar riff and we knew that something had been unlocked in our creative process, like a revelation, it later became our album opener ‘Open the Gates’.

Everything escalated from this first melody and we began seeing the picture of what we wanted sonically: prominent synths creating this levitating feeling, powerful uplifting guitars and lyrics that captured the almost spiritual high we get when creating music. Every time we hit the studio, ‘Golden Bay’ became this sacred space—our escape where we could let go and liberate ourselves. Overall it’s a pop album, but it has this raw energy and carefree spirit that we wanted to preserve throughout the use of live sounds.

Our biggest wish with this album is that the listeners embark on a trip and feel the way we do when we’re in the studio, at 3am, and we don’t want to stop because you have to catch these rare moments when inspiration strikes you, and you become the messenger of something beautiful.”

While music traditions are often defined by established and protected sets of characteristics, popular music in South Africa betrays a willingness to adapt homegrown styles and an enthusiasm to adopt new influences. Musical currents like marabi, goema and mbaqanga help define what makes indigenous jazz unique, but it’s the eclecticism and hybridisation found in South African crates that keeps vinyl archaeologists like Fred “Voom Voom” Spider digging deeper. If we consider jazz to be a global musical dish, it follows that South Africa brings a distinct sonic salsa to the table. Spider calls it “Chakalaka Jazz” after the local tomato, onion and chilli relish that frequently accompanies South African meals. It’s the essential ingredient that unites and spices this diverse selection of tracks spanning the years 1969 through 2003. Featuring locals, exiles and expats with a reverent nod to the golden years of the 1970’s, these rare musical treasures are held together by that magical South African flavour.

Compiled by Fred Spider, Notes by Calum MacNaughton, Executive Producer: Franck Descollonges for Heavenly Sweetness

Die Legion des finnischen Power Metal
Dragonknight ist eine neue Konzeptband, die von einem Haufen erfahrener finnischer Metal-Veteranen aus der Taufe gehoben wurde. Sie schmieden
gekonnt eine sanfte und frische Interpretation des klassischen nordeuropäischen Power-Metal-Stils, die sich durch erhabene Melodien, donnernde
Rhythmen und epische Orchestrierung auszeichnet und mit krachenden Riffs verschmilzt - eine unvergessliche Klangreise von legendärem Ausmaß.
Die elf hymnischen Kapitel des ersten Albums „Legions“ erzählen von herzzerreißenden Schlachten, willensstarken Kriegern und der Schönheit des
glorreichen Todes, aber auch von schief gelaufenen Schatzsuchen, Eroberungen und der inneren Kraft, sich im Angesicht der Not immer wieder aus
dem hoffnungslosen Loch der Verzweiflung zu erheben - hört, wie Armeen und Schwerter aufeinanderprallen, Seeschiffe knarren und die Flügel der
Schlangen sich erheben. Bist du bereit, dem Ruf der Drachenritter zu folgen, dich ihrer mächtigen Legion anzuschließen und, wenn dich ein solches
Schicksal ereilen sollte, FÜR METAL zu sterben?!

When Greg Freeman quietly released his debut album I Looked Out in 2022, it was immediately clear to the small community who heard it that the Vermont songwriter captured something intangibly exciting and distinctly American. Across 10 explosive songs that meld knotty indie rock with pastoral twang, he sings with a zealous urgency of shipwrecks, biblical visions, doomed drifters, dams breaking, and lives left in rearview mirrors. His evocative writing paints a world where revelation or ruin is behind every corner but it always leaves room for hope and human connection. A resoundingly confident LP, it’s a testament to Burlington’s vibrant music community and the pure magic of opening yourself up to creative risks and collaboration.

Now, for the first time, I Looked Out has been pressed to vinyl. Out digitally on Nov. 20 and on vinyl Jan. 17 via Canvasback/Transgressive, two bonus tracks are also available. On the digital release, there’s an acoustic duet version of “Long Distance Driver” with Merce Lemon, and on the vinyl, there’s the noisy sound collage “Sound Tests, Scraps, Lists.” Greg Freeman will release new music and this album’s full-length follow-up in 2025."