quête:sense city

Bristol's Tara Clerkin Trio return to World of Echo and the EP format for a five song collection of quixotic, emotional redolence. But do not mistake their absence for inertia. If their musical output has been a little sparse during those in-between years, limited to a few solo ventures and an astonishing ten minute long piece as a trio, their time has otherwise been richly spent: continuous writing and recording, extensive live performances across Europe and Japan, a cultivation of local and more far-flung artistic connections (musical and otherwise), and a monthly NTS show that, through the voice of others, speaks most obviously to their own unorthodox interests. It's the conflux of that winding activity that leads indirectly to On The Turning Ground, 26 minutes of probing, thoughtful composition that draws from no one specific source. Their inspirations might be centreless, but the trio still possess a very obvious anchor in the form of their hometown. Bristol stands as a city of multitudes, heterogenous and vibrant in such a way as to allow it to renew and remake time and again. Tara Clerkin Trio drink from that same well, duly reflecting a rich musical heritage built on fwd-facing electronic subcultures and experimental urges.

As such, On The Turning Ground finds them subject to their own subtle internal evolution, the pervasive sense that you've caught them mid-bloom, on their way to becoming but never anything but themselves. The two instrumental pieces that bookend the EP stand as a perfect case in point, displaying an increasing mastery of compositional space. Pensive and restrained, 'Brigstow' and 'Once Around' both emanate an interstitial quality that's not so much after- as in-between-hours, miniature dub-folk symphonies held together by the kind of tacit understanding that remains the preserve of only the closest of family units. If those two tracks are shaped by a sense of shifting temporality, then the three vocal-led pieces that comprise the record's core feel like a gentle ossifying of aesthetic into something approaching their own unique form of avant-pop. 'Pop' is, of course, a broadly subjective concept, but there's no avoiding the overt sparkling melodicism of songs like 'Marble Walls' and 'The Turning Ground', undeniable re-directions of that late 90s impulse to bend pop sensibilities into off-centre terrain, to render the familiar new again. This is what Tara Clerkin Trio do, gently pulling the ground from under your feet, turning you to face something you'd not quite seen before. To view the world as they do: sideways, sometimes, all of the time.

A cocktail of rebellious queer vocal fragments, deceptive percussive granules and swaying hammered vibrations, upsammy and Valentina Magaletti's first collaboration trembles with suspense. The seeds of 'Seismo' were sown following a commission from Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum to soundtrack an exhibition of work from the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen in Rotterdam and the duo didn't want to approach their collaboration flippantly. So, wandering the museum's maze of rooms, they recorded various improvised percussive sounds with their arsenal of microphones, using the space to inform various rhythms and textures that were sculpted later into electroacoustic vignettes. This was just the starting point, though; as Magaletti and upsammy began performing together, the project evolved and 'Seismo' began to take shape. The duo had struck on a salient aesthetic concept, using mostly digital and acoustic mallet instruments to blur the boundary between their roles and create friction between the synthetic and the authentic. And the finished record is a phantasmagoric push-and-pull between its various conflicting elements: harmony and dissonance, randomness and predictability, openness and constraint. 'Seismo' isn't the first time that upsammy has studied her environment in search of revelation. On her acclaimed second album, 2024's 'Germ in a Population of Buildings', the Amsterdam-based DJ, producer and multidisciplinary artist erected her complex, unorthodox rhythms and eerie melodies around a modernist frame of field recordings collected in various cityscapes, countering heavyweight basslines with subtle, microscopic sounds. London-based Italian vanguard Magaletti, meanwhile, has applied her unique logic to innumerable projects at this point, working with everyone from batida icon Nídia and hardcore-dub outfit Moin to French writer Fanny Chiarello and British bass scientist Shackleton. For years she's approached the drums with criticism, attempting to challenge any preconceptions, something that's most visible on 2020's 'A Queer Anthology of Drums'. And both artists' thoughtful perspectives are welded together seamlessly on 'Seismo', a dizzying suite of eight eccentric statements that's fragile but never insecure, gauzy but not indistinct. An unnerving sense of space characterizes 'It Comes to an End' as Magaletti's in situ improvisations herald for upsammy's microscopic glitches and chiming pitch-bent melodies. It's almost unbalancing to witness the track's impossible dimensionality, the interplay between reverberant marimba hits and bone-dry synths, or percussion that's been recorded and processed in consciously different settings. A new architecture emerges in the sound itself that the two artists scan and explore meticulously, testing its boundaries with undulating hybridized rhythms on the invigorating 'Superimposed' and offsetting the powdery drums with liquified smacks and alien voices. The duo's vibrations are knotted with piano flourishes on 'Hyperlocalize', balanced with artificial clanks and clangs that disappear into the track's sonorous atmosphere, replaced by whispers and half-hallucinated insectoid chirps. 'Seismo' is an album that feeds off the energy generated by its juxtapositions: the tension and anticipation that's melted by rapid, hyperactive movement and the finely drawn rhythms disrupted by a layer of indistinct, barely perceptible microsounds. It's a collaboration that sounds like two minds challenging each other but not wrestling, each peering from their own distinct vantage point and imagining a third landscape shaped by optimistic, queer vibrations.

2025 Reissue.



Münchenbuchsee, a suburb of Bern, Switzerland. Stephan Eicher is the youngest of three children. His father, a radio and TV repairman, is also a jazz violinist and a sound tinkerer in his spare time. In the family home's converted fallout shelter turned studio, Mr. Eicher experiments with homemade sequencers, tortures handcrafted drum machines, and abuses reel-to-reel tape recorders—all under the fascinated gaze of young Stephan.

The boy quickly develops a musical curiosity, exploring sound through various experiments and wanderings. Alongside his younger brother Martin, Stephan crafts audio plays on a homemade multi-track recorder (essentially several cassette decks hooked together!), which they write, record, add sound effects to, and perform for family and friends. Just a couple of nice kids, really...

Then comes 1972, and Lou Reed's Transformer album changes everything for the Eicher kids. For 13-year-old Stephan, it's a revelation—especially "Vicious", the opening track, which he plays on repeat for months. He convinces his father to buy him an electric guitar. Not stopping there, his father also builds him a tube amp using an old radio.

Then comes adolescence. A rough one. Stephan leaves home at 16 and moves to Zurich. With obvious artistic talent, he persuades his art teacher to help him get into F+F, a radical, alternative art school—despite his young age. Accepted, he starts learning video techniques, determined to become a filmmaker.

At F+F, Stephan organizes Dada-style happenings and concerts with a group of friends known as the Noise Boys. Among them: one of his teachers on bass, Veit Stauffer on drums (who would later found ReR/Recommended Records), his girlfriend Sacha on vocals, and Stephan on guitar. In one of their early performances, they release a remote-controlled mouse covered in dull razor blades into the audience to create panic and chaos. Keeping with this aggressive, confrontational spirit, they once played a concert while wearing headphones blasting Tristan and Isolde, trying to perform their own songs simultaneously—to maximize the cacophony. The goal was always the same: clear the room.

Their “songs,” if you can call them that, followed suit. Take "Hungeriges Afrika", for instance—performed entirely with power drills and some drum feedback.

To make ends meet, Stephan returns to Bern on weekends to work as a waiter at the Spex Club, the city’s main punk venue. On September 16, 1980, during a show by proto-electro group Starter, the police raid the club and arrest everyone. Stephan, who manages to avoid arrest, seizes the opportunity to “borrow” Starter’s gear left behind. He suddenly finds himself in possession of a Roland Promars synth, a Korg MS20, and a gorgeous CR78 drum machine, which he runs through a Big Muff distortion pedal to get that perfect gritty sound.

He then sets out to reinterpret some Noise Boys tracks, reworking them during impromptu sessions recorded on a dictaphone (yes, a dictaphone—now the lo-fi sound makes more sense, doesn’t it?). He ironically titles the resulting cassette "Stephan Eicher spielt Noise Boys" ("Stephan Eicher plays Noise Boys"). This gem features seven tracks, which are the ones reissued here.

Back in Zurich, he visits his friends Andrew Moore and Robert Vogel, who have a DIY cassette duplication setup. They make 25 copies of Stephan Eicher spielt Noise Boys for Stephan and his friends. Robert encourages him to visit Urs Steiger of Off Course Records and play him the tape.

Without much hope, Stephan shows up at Urs’s office. But Urs is instantly hooked and suggests releasing a 7” single. Due to space constraints, they reluctantly drop two of the seven tracks ("Hungeriges Afrika" and "One Second"). As for the musical score featured on the cover—it was randomly chosen and remains a mystery to this day. Calling all music theory nerds!

The 7-inch is pressed in 750 copies and released in the first week of December 1980—a date Stephan remembers well, as it’s the same week John Lennon was killed. Smartly, Urs sends a promo copy to François Murner, Switzerland’s answer to John Peel, who hosts a show on alternative station Sounds. Murner falls in love with the record and starts giving it airtime. To Stephan’s surprise, sales follow—and people actually seem interested in his music.

Even this modest underground success scares Stephan a bit. He stops making music for a year and moves to Bologna, where he works as a programmer at Radio Città, a feminist radio station.

Meanwhile, Stephan’s younger brother Martin, who’s also involved in the punk scene, joins the band Glueams as a singer and guitarist. Glueams, named after the fanzine run by two of its members (drummer Marco Repetto and bassist GT), eventually rebrands as Grauzone. Stephan is invited to their shows to project hacked Super 8 visuals live on stage.

Urs Steiger, now working on a compilation titled Swiss Wave – The Album, asks Grauzone to contribute alongside bands like Liliput, Jack and the Rippers, The Sick, and Ladyshave (Fall 1980).

For the album, Martin tasks Stephan with producing their recording sessions. Under Stephan's artistic direction, two tracks emerge: "Raum" and "Eisbär". During "Eisbär", Martin plays a minimalist bass line borrowed from post-punk band The Feelies (just an open string). Drummer Marco Repetto struggles to keep time. Later that evening, unhappy with the takes, Stephan builds a four-bar drum loop from a ¼-inch tape and uses it instead of the flawed original. He then adds bleepy synths and wind sounds to complete the track’s icy vibe before handing it over to Urs.

The Swiss Wave – The Album compilation is released quietly at first, but things snowball thanks to "Eisbär", which eventually becomes a smash hit—selling over 600,000 singles.

Meanwhile, Stephan plays in a rockabilly band called SMUV (named after Switzerland’s social security agency) and begins producing artists, including the debut album of Starter (1981), which includes a more pop-oriented version of "Minijupe".

By early 1982, Stephan starts spending time with the post-punk girl band Liliput (formerly Kleenex). They’re older than him, and he happily drives them around in his Renault Major, acting as their roadie.

By 1983, Grauzone—signed to the major label EMI, which turned out to be a misstep—is falling apart. Stephan begins to pivot toward a more mainstream pop sound with his debut solo album Les Chansons Bleues.

But that... is already another story.

In 1983 Nana Vasconcelos came into contact with a group of young musicians from Quebec City, who combined their association with the avant-garde with a visceral love for Africa and the Far East. The entire album encompasses the musicians' multifaceted music experience infused by a sense of spirituality and mystery - immersed in an ocean of rhythm with one shore in Brazil and the other in Africa. Ntsano is now available on CD for the first time, plus 180g vinyl with cutting and pressing by Pallas Group, Germany. The limited edition LP is presented in a gatefold sleeve with booklet & each copy is hand numbered. The audio has been transfered from original analogue tapes.

Austin Wintory's third collaboration with Giant Squid and creative director Matt Nava, Sword of the Sea, sees it's soundtrack surfing onto vinyl.

The music has been specially mastered for vinyl and is pressed to heavyweight discs, all housed in a deluxe gatefold sleeve. Illustrator Elaine Lee has created original artwork that flows from the front cover to the back.

Nominated for Best Score Soundtrack for Video Games and Other Interactive Media at the 68th GRAMMY Awards, Sword of the Sea is an aesthetic successor to thatgamecompany's Journey and Giant Squid's ABZÛ and The Pathless. The album is a mellifluous musical adventure, resonating immaculately with the game's sense of flow and beauty. Piano, synthesisers, strings, wind, and choral elements collaborate with, and cascade over one another, always with a purposeful momentum. Harmonically, pieces carry the listener along a gently undulating path, punctuated by unexpected chord changes - jagged little musical surprises that hint at the game's deeper mysteries.

Soloists Kristin 'Field of Reeds' Naigus, Tina Guo, Malukah, Paul Cartwright and Tom Strahle elevate the score with soaring performances, while ensembles including London Voices and the Phoenix Boys Choir enrich the texture of the enveloping compositions.

Yet another solid gold modern reimagining of the mighty Loleatta Holloway, this time her infamous 1977 smash 'Hit & Run' goes under the knife and is tweaked to devastating effect by 2 of Chicago's finest modern day editors - Jamie 326 & Cratebug. Anyone with even a passing interest in Disco or House will be more than familiar with these 2 guys names. Having edited and remixed numerous cuts in their own original ways, they take this all-time Salsoul classic and strip it right back to the essence, to the very basics, and in the process create a total dancefloor weapon. This edit originally came out a few years ago (2013) on a compilation that showcased the new wave of contemporary talent emanating from the Windy City and naturally it was one of the cuts that stood out, finding favour with a wide variety of DJ's across the board from Motor City Drum Ensemble, Todd Terry, Jeremy Underground Paris, Theo Parrish and more. Drawing comparisons with Paperclip People's anthemic 'Throw' from 1994 in the way it snatches a killer loop from 'Hit & Run's' bassline, 'Hit It & Quit It' is a monster, a record you'll literally play over and over and over again, a relentless Disco juggernaut that oozes power. It made perfect sense for this legit single-sided reissue 12" to come out on Salsoul Records, the home of Loleatta Holloway's finest material and all of her classics. This limited reissue has been made in conjunction with Jamie 3:26 & Cratebug and Salsoul Records, 100% sanctioned and lovingly re-presented for your dancing pleasure. This one is HOT. Sleep at your peril!

Delphine Dora, the prolific French composer and multi-instrumentalist, graces Marionette with a suite of keyboard instrumentals that evoke futurism and the transcendental. Based in France and actively releasing music since the 00’s, Delphine’s remarkable solo and collaborative projects loosely connect the dots scattered across modern classical, folk, ambient, and poetic writing - always seeking new ambitions in terms of her sound.

Leaving behind the chaos of city life for the quiet solitude of a small village in the French countryside, Delphine finds herself fully immersed in the present moment and committed to her multi-disciplinary creative practices, savoring the experiences of deep listening in nature and her environment. Drawing from an academic background in Outsider Art and Art Brut, Dora yearns to express intimate inner dialogues, revealing the beauty of vulnerability through transportive musical passages to the mystical and sublime.

L’inéluctable pulsation du temps was composed in 2018, at a time when Delphine’s life was becoming increasingly busy, marked by relentless touring and concerts unfolding in rapid succession across different places. Written in parallel with L’Inattingible, her most ambitious album, it stands as its instrumental counterpart. The recordings reflect a period of exploration and assimilation of the Nord Electro, an instrument that opened up vast sonic possibilities, particularly for the development of rich polyphonies inspired by repetitive music. The track titles draw inspiration from an essay by Hartmut Rosa on the notions of acceleration and alienation - a reflection that resonates strongly with the pre-covid era right before the quarantine. The album reveals Delphine’s most colorful and rhythmic side, an aural mille-feuille, in total contrast with her previous melancholic vocal works.

On L’inéluctable pulsation du temps, Dora sustains atmospheric drone miniatures that form the foundation for flowing, cyclical arpeggios, spiraling into a liminal dream space where the repetitive phrasing of melodies rewards introspective listening. The compositions move through (dis)enchanted landscapes, taking unexpected turns into more haunted terrain, their contours further blurred by Dora’s intuitive articulation and sense of refinement. By mirroring both the acceleration of time and the experience of alienation, Delphine conjures up timeless sonic meditations, rendering the inevitable pulsation of time as something at once mesmerizing and unsettling.

B. Chamber (Stratum A), by B. Close, is the first full length solo release by Los Angeles-based multi-disciplinary artist Brian Close. The first of two volumes assembled from some thirteen hours of music produced by Close while residing in Connecticut from 2021-2025, B. Chamber (Stratum A) offers a vivid, fractal afterimage of a prolific, specific time and space in the artist’s oeuvre.

After leaving New York City early in the pandemic to a farmhouse in the countryside with dedicated spaces for multiple sound stations, Close developed an intensive daily practice of melding with the machines. The vast, pastoral backdrop of rural CT provided inspiration and contrast for his ongoing investigations into dynamic, poly-rhythmic electronic music. The sounds on B. Chamber (Stratum A) range from the machine-modeling of acoustic instruments and natural environments to the utterly unhuman, spinning on the axis between crystalline, pointillist precision and shifty blown-cone distortion. Close’s atypical interpretations of rhythm, noise and other undefined musics land in a hybrid zone of their own.

Throughout B. Chamber (Stratum A), Close’s productions are in perpetual motion. Foxtrot’s shifting hi-hats and disembodied voices rise like cicadas propelled by glitching machines and tangled rhythms, Many Drive draws momentum from dubby stabs and twinkling atmospherics. Character Community’s nimble, drifting snares and erratic static are uplifted by swelling synths, and Mpan’s modular mining forgoes drums but is no less propulsive for it. Acre Voices’ seasick pads and deft drum patterns tap an energizing nerve, and closer 5D Bow’s ambush of pummeling machine gun fire spirals into the tryptamine palace and emerges completely rinsed and refreshed.

Equally powerful in the club as in the outdoors, in the headphones eyes closed or on the move, B. Chamber (Stratum A) grants an immersive temporary trip on B. Close’s unique wavelength, with Stratum B to complete the picture in the summer of 2026.

RIYL - Mark Fell, muay thai, Vladislav Delay, gaming, Errorsmith, modular synthesizer.

+++++

Brian Close (b. 1979, NYC) uses the cold logic of mathematics to trigger states of total sensory displacement. Close co-founded multiple AV studios to explore the "hypnotic"—a ritualistic practice of motional-graphism and improvisational sound. His work is a study in synesthesia and the architecture of trance, using geometric precision to dissolve the sense of time. It is a digital-visceral experience built on heavy logic, designed for large-scale immersion and timelessness.

Close is one half of Georgia who have released records on Palto Flats, Firecracker Recordings, Meakusma, Youth, OOH-Sounds and EM Records, and have a long-running residency on NTS.

B. Chamber was written, produced and mixed by Brian Close.
Mastered by Rashad Becker.
Artwork by Brian Close.

Fifteen years after it first surfaced on the short-lived Lithuanian netlabel Dumblys, Sraunus – Out Of The City returns remastered, recontextualized, and ready for a new wave of deep listeners. What once felt like a hidden gem now reads as a quiet cornerstone, a record whose significance only grew clearer with time.
Behind Sraunus is Paulius Markutis, one of Lithuanias earliest deep-dub explorers. His moniker translates to “flowing” or “fluid,” and that spirit runs through the entire album: the music breathes, circulates, and drifts with calm inevitability, revealing fresh details on every pass. Rooted in the classic Berlin-born dub tradition yet unmistakably shaped by Markutis own sense of space, mood, and narrative, the result feels beautifully suspended in time, warm in its chords, patient in its arrangements, and guided by a subtle emotional current. This is dub techno at its most enduring: fluid, deep, and endlessly replayable.
The reissue, part of Greyscales Archive Series, arrives on superbly pressed double vinyl, with artwork chosen with intent: Marija Marcelionytė-Paliukės “High Tide and Low Tide,” an image of perpetual motion that perfectly mirrors the albums flowing spirit.

Following her acclaimed 2023 release Flood City Trax, a dreamy, lo-fi take on footwork inspired by the crumbling rust-belt city she calls home, Nondi returns to Planet Mu with her second self-titled album, Nondi…While Nondi… retains some of the hazy, nostalgic atmosphere of Flood City Trax, it pushes her sound in bold new directions. “I made this album to capture the sense of freedom I used to get from music when I was first discovering it all,” Nondi says. “It’s meant to be cute, fun, kinda weird and emotional — but most of all, it’s a presentation of some of the prettiest tracks I’ve made.” Though she hasn’t really experienced club culture where she lives, her impressionistic productions evoke the surreal, lingering sounds of a night out — the melodic haze that hums in your ears as you drift off to sleep. Lo-fi and melodic, yet fluid and free, her music carries a sense of flight and intuitive logic. Nondi’s influences range widely — Actress, Aphex Twin, footwork, and the stranger edges of dub techno are all felt, yet she hallucinates them through her own weathered, dreamlike lens. Her tracks often build from clashing loops that evolve and transform organically, or from familiar genre elements reshaped by her instinct for misty, heart-wrenching melody. Some moments stay closer to genre, like Broken Future 175, a drum-and-bass tear-out that dissolves into lush, blurred chords, or Just Hanging Out, a bruised and beautiful take on 2-step. Lead single Tree Festival feels like a blown-out fusion of rave energy and sped-up new-age bliss, while Death Juke drifts through off-beat vocal samples, pulsing drums and 8-bit FX, reminiscent of early Steve Reich reimagined through a Game Boy. Nondi… is a uniquely moving and exploratory album that expands her sonic world even further. Lo-fi yet luminous, playful yet profound.

Fifteen years after it first surfaced on the short-lived Lithuanian netlabel Dumblys, Sraunus – Out Of The City returns remastered, recontextualized, and ready for a new wave of deep listeners. What once felt like a hidden gem now reads as a quiet cornerstone, a record whose significance only grew clearer with time.
Behind Sraunus is Paulius Markutis, one of Lithuanias earliest deep-dub explorers. His moniker translates to “flowing” or “fluid,” and that spirit runs through the entire album: the music breathes, circulates, and drifts with calm inevitability, revealing fresh details on every pass. Rooted in the classic Berlin-born dub tradition yet unmistakably shaped by Markutis own sense of space, mood, and narrative, the result feels beautifully suspended in time, warm in its chords, patient in its arrangements, and guided by a subtle emotional current. This is dub techno at its most enduring: fluid, deep, and endlessly replayable.
The reissue, part of Greyscales Archive Series, arrives on superbly pressed double vinyl, with artwork chosen with intent: Marija Marcelionytė-Paliukės “High Tide and Low Tide,” an image of perpetual motion that perfectly mirrors the albums flowing spirit.

Formed in Southend in the late 90’s, Beatglider’s tale is a familiar one taking in early acclaim only for momentum and promise to be dashed by major label statis and indifference.

After the release of the debut long-player, ‘40 Days Of Summer’, in 1999 the band signed to Sony subsidiary Lakota and decamped to LA to record its follow-up, ‘Dreaming Of Roads’, an album that was never to see the light of day.

And now, over 20 years later, ‘Dreaming Of Roads’ eventually gets a deserved release on 28th February via the Arlen label. A beautiful 11-track understated delight which musically falls somewhere between the likes of Elliott Smith, Grandaddy, Yo La Tengo and Sparklehorse, the album has not only stood the test of time, but arguably sounds as fresh as ever in 2026.
The tracklisting of the album - recorded in Los Angeles at the famed Sound City studios - is as follows:

Pioen is the second album by Elisabeth Klinck & Nils Vermeulen, released on blickwinkel. It was recorded in a small chapel of a monastery in the city center of Ghent. A chapel by nature is a place of contemplation and meditation, which automatically had influence on the music. Movements slow down, attention is sharpened and the overwhelming silence of the space becomes part of the music. Sound and silence are meticulously woven into each other. Even when the music grows at times dense and heavy, there is an ever-present sense of closeness and intimacy. This is reinforced by the use of the voice, which naturally appears throughout the album, not as a separate layer but as an extension of the instruments.

The pieces – this time more curated than on their previous album Pair, Paire – arose from hours-long improvisations where sound became space and space became sound. Bringing together violin, double bass and voice, Pioen unfolds as a serene and honest journey, inviting the listener into a state of contemplation.

Elisabeth Klinck is a contemporary violinist, composer and performer based in Brussels, known or her timeless, deep-listening sound worlds. Her album Picture a Frame (2023) and Chronotopia - selected by The Quietus as one of the best albums of 2025 - were released on the Swiss label Hallow Ground. A big part of her work revolves around tactility, fragility, and a very physical approaches to sound.

Nils Vermeulen is a Belgian double bass player active in all varieties of adventurous music. He has played with Paul Lytton, Martin Küchen, Seppe Gebruers, William Parker, John Dikeman, Luis Vicente, among others. He works across many scenes, from free improv to jazz to contemporary classical music, and in many distinct constellations, such as his own groups Kabas and Jukwaa, a Norwegian free jazz trio with Tollef Østvang and Heidi Kvelvane, a string duo with Elisabeth Klinck, and as the double bassplayer of Nemo ensemble. In 2023, he released his debut solo album on Aspen Edities.

Written during a period of geographic and artistic transition, Country Music traces Severin Black’s movement from London to Berlin, unfolding through cycles of isolation and adaptation. Composed on the city’s periphery, the album’s material was continually dismantled and reassembled, reflecting a process of both artistic and personal reconstruction. The album marks a shift in production methodology, moving away from the immediacy of summed live takes toward a more deliberate, stratified multitrack approach. Sparse yet hypnotic, the record distills layers of sound formed by constant relocation, recurrent solitude, and a recalibration of instinct. In many ways, it echoes the experience of exile, not in a political sense but in the quieter, more insidious form of displacement that alters one’s perception of time and self. The music drifts between structure and dissolution, a reflection of existing at the threshold of different spaces—both physically and sonically.

The shedding of the previously used Nape moniker signaled a decisive sonic transformation, informed by extended time spent in the Pyrenees and a renewed engagement with folkloric material. Severin began playing the clarinet while making this record, and though its presence is minimal, it reveals itself as an interest in acoustic simulation, particularly the digital approximations of classical instruments that emerged within 1990s synthesizer technology. This interrogation of authenticity and mediation parallels the album’s thematic engagement with memory, where recollection functions not as a retrieval of fixed experience but as an iterative process of distortion and reconstruction. The relocation to Berlin reignited an affinity for grime music, evident in the syncopated brass of Pilgrim Wine and the fractured vocal layers of March, while memories of childhood in rural Wales permeate the record’s atmospheric spaces. The album includes contributions from longtime collaborator Vanessa Bedoret and Berlin-based artist Pavel Milyakov (Buttechno).

Country Music situates itself within an unresolved dialogue—between past and speculative futures, between folk lineage and digital fragmentation, between place and its embodied and sonic traces. What emerges is not a fixed statement but a process, an ongoing negotiation between what is left behind and what is brought forward. Words by Chantal Michelle

Mastered by Owen Pratt / Design by Severin Black / Center label image by Nicky Kidd / Back cover text by Alya Kanıbelli

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mess Esque are a duo featuring music and instruments by Mick Turner
and words and voice by Helen Franzmann. Their self-titled album is a
beguiling travelogue of restless, somnambulant wanderings.
Perhaps best known as one of the Dirty Three, Mick’s been playing
guitar and making music with many collaborators for forty years. He’s
loved his paintings too but revered especially for his solo music - since
1997, Drag City have released four of his albums, plus an EP and an
album of the Tren Brothers (Mick with percussionist and fellow Dirty
Three-ite, Jim White) and two EPs featuring Mick as the Marquis de Tren
with Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy.
Mick’s last record was 2013’s ‘Don’t Tell the Driver’, a work that found
him departing from his traditional hermetic instrumental template by
employing a rhythm section and brass charts and even collaborating with
a vocalist. After all the purely instrumental music he’s made with Dirty
Three and solo, a singer is now part of the sound he’s hearing in his
head these days; while demoing new material, he realized that he was
again writing music that needed lyrics - and for that matter, someone
other than himself to sing them. But who? In 2019, he was introduced to
Helen through a mutual friend who’d produced her last album. Under the
name Mckisko, Helen has released three albums over the past 12 years,
working and touring with a range of Australian musicians along the way.
Her music has been described as numinous and transformative. Her
most recent album, ‘Southerly’, saw her moving into a more expansive
sound which led to an openness and excitement around further
collaboration.
Helen’s words are carefully observed, her phrasing responding intuitively
to Mick’s looping guitar figures with vocal repetitions of her own. Starting
with a feeling or a voicing, there are often no words - both players are
searching on their own paths. Then suddenly they have arrived and are
passing the emerging meaning back and forth, the rising intensity
forming a kind of undertow that pulls the listener deeper into their world.
Often, Helen would record her vocals in the middle of the night, seeking
that 2am flow, a moment of greatest isolation through which to trace her
melodie with fragility and strength. This crystallizes Mess Esque’s
intention: riding the sleepy drift through the blurred edges of the day…
time-traveling to that moment beyond stasis where sense and no sense
coincide and share space and time and energy. Viewing from afar the
immense peace of this planet when its ghost world of spirits below - the
madness of crowds, people sliding past each other faraway in the night -
are quieted at last.

From the heart of Tamanrasset in South Algeria, Imarhan transcend Tuareg tradition, weaving hypnotic synths into desert blues. The result is a timeless work—deeply respectful of their roots, yet alive with a stirring sense of modernity.

ESSAM is the band’s fourth album, recorded with the same core lineup, but marks a significant shift in their sound and approach. Musically, it marks a departure from the rocky, bluesy, psychedelic Tuareg guitar-driven sound influenced by Tinariwen’s heritage — moving toward something more open, modern, and exploratory.
For the first time, their long-time sound engineer Maxime Kosinetz stepped in as producer. He travelled to Tamanrasset with Emile Papandreou (of the French duo UTO), a multi-instrumentalist who introduced electronic elements by sampling live instruments and reprocessing them in real time with a modular synthesizer — subtly reshaping the band's sonic identity.
The album was recorded mostly live, in one big room at Aboogi Studio — the band’s own rehearsal and recording space in Tamanrasset. The studio, a converted concert hall, has become a kind of cultural hub for the local youth. Friends dropped by during the sessions to contribute handclaps, vocals, and just be part of the energy. It’s a space where people gather, hang out, play dominoes, smoke chicha — a rare communal spot in a city that doesn’t offer many for young people, somewhat like a youth and community center.
This context — the creative shift, the live recording process, the atmosphere around Aboogi — might be interesting threads to explore in the conversation.