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After opening the dimension door via a hypnagogic contribution to recent Ruf Kutz comp 'Expansion Pack 2: Textures' and offering a sonic submersion into his 'Deep Waters Mixtape', Inner Glow takes the controls for RK18, treating the DJs and dancers to a high grade house triptych.

For the uninitiated, the man behind the music is a lifelong friend from Ruf Dug's Sydney sojourn, when the two would host mushroom squat parties with the rest of the "Bodega Clan", and who helped mastermind the seminal Paradise Lost warehouse parties. Virtuously patient, the Australian spent the years since perfecting his craft, maxing out the XP and emerging as his evolved form, Inner Glow.

On the A-side, Inner Glow comes through with the two clubbiest cuts from the 'Deep Waters' cassette, unmixed, mastered loud and exclusive to vinyl. Already a firm favourite with Bradley Zero 'Party People' pulses on the A1, its one note bassline and taut pads keeping tension at a maximum. At the top of the frequency band sparse stabs and nuanced percussion dance in tandem, while the deft use of E-Smoove and First Choice acapellas provide an underground intertext Sprinkles would be proud of.

'Call Me' coaxes us into the shadow realm with the lure of Lynchian dialogue, slowly taking shape as a dub techno phantom. It's a heads down affair as urgent subs push against the mist of static, until a rising, wriggling keyboard riff unwinds waists with a hint of UKG exuberance.
Inner Glow brings the beatific on the B-side's 'Love Has No Age', combining rippling keys and MK vocal chops over waves of hiss and haze.
The percussion combines classic house swing with the tinny hats of electro, keeping perfect time as the soulful vocals swell into the sublime.

Over the last twelve months Ruffy's rocked the spot from Pikes to Houghton with these heaters, and now he's sharing them with you.

Travelling extensively across Asia and Africa between 1974-1985 to study music, Roberto made many field recordings and collected many instruments on his travels which he would then combine with synthesizers and electronics back in Italy. BIG TIP!

Gold/ Bone Vinyl

Das Duo Tribunal aus Vancouver mag der breiten Welt noch unbekannt sein, aber das fesselnde Debütalbum "The Weight Of Remembrance" ist angeteten, das zu ändern. Im schwarzen Samtgewand des Gothic Doom Metal weben Tribunal düstere Geschichten von ultimativer Verurteilung, nicht enden wollendem Regen und einsamer Verzweiflung.

Mit dem klassisch ausgebildeten Cellisten/Bassisten/Sänger Soren Mourne und dem Gitarristen/Sänger Etienne Flinn bedient sich das Duo mit seinen ziegelsteinschweren, klassischen Doom-Riffs am klassischen Death Metal-Schwere wie z.B. My Dying Bride, allerdings gefiltert durch ein modernes Kaleidoskop. Der Sound ist mit Anspielungen auf die 80er und 90er Jahre sofort vertraut, klingt aber nie retro oder wie eine bloße Hommage. "The Weight of Remembrance" erweckt vielmehr das Gefühl eines sorgfältig komponierten Orchestersatzes, der zu einer bröckelnden, mit Moos bewachsenen Kathedrale passt. Die Vocals des Duos wechseln häufig zwischen geisterhaftem, klagendem Cleangesang, beißendem Kreischen im Black-Metal-Stil und furchteinflößenden Todesrufen.

Das Debüt von Tribunal ist eine unverzichtbare Ergänzung des modernen Doom-Kanons, der sich ausgehend von einer Basis aus erdrückender, tragischer Schwere und Verlorenheit in unendlich viele musikalische Richtungen entwickeln kann. In diesem Sinne hat "The Weight Of Remembrance" die vollendete Atmosphäre einer Band, die in Umfang und Ausführung ihrer Vision weit über ihr junges Alter hinaus ist.

Die genreübergreifenden Symphonic-Metal-Pioniere DELAIN sind zurück!

Die niederländischen Symphonic-Metal-Pioniere DELAIN brechen mit ihrem mit Spannung erwarteten, brandneuen Album „Dark Waters“, das am 10. Februar 2023 über Napalm Records erscheint, in neue
Gefilde vor. Die makellose Platte markiert ein bahnbrechendes Kapitel in der Geschichte der Band und präsentiert die Idee des Keyboarders, Gründers und Hauptsongwriters Martijn Westerholt mit einer neuen
Besetzung. Original-Gitarrist Ronald Landa und Original-Schlagzeuger Sander Zoer stoßen wieder zu DELAIN und stärken die Kontinuität, während neue Mitglieder – die großartige Sängerin Diana Leah und der Bassist Ludovico Cioffi – ihren Sound weiterentwickeln. Dark Waters folgt dem Chartstürmer Apocalypse & Chill (2020) und integriert die raffiniertesten Sounds des Genres. DELAIN's renommierte Orchesterarrangements, hervorgehoben durch moderne Schattierungen, setzen neue Maßstäbe und manifestieren den Fünfer an der Spitze der Szene. Eine klangliche Achterbahnfahrt aus eingängigen Melodien mit explosiven Elementen – von Pop über Filmmusik bis hin zu glühendem Metal – verschmilzt perfekt mit Dianas fantastischer Stimme und zeigt ihr unglaubliches Talent und ihre musikalische Raffinesse.

Als brandneuer Anfang und sicherer Hafen gleichermaßen, setzt ”Dark Waters” zweifellos das Vermächtnis dieser millionenfach gestreamten führenden Symphonic-Metal-Band fort und enthält alles, wofür DELAIN geliebt wird, und noch mehr.

Kelman Duran introduces LA’s Holodec to his Scorpio Red label with a debut album of flickering R&B torchsongs and ambient trap-soul that aches in a very special way. RIYL Dawuna, Burial, Junior Boys, MssingNo, claire rousay, Joy O, Triad God, Sampha…

The smouldering ’All Dogs Come From Wolves’ is a definitive statement by a quietly gifted artist who operates inside the long shadow of late ‘90s US R&B and the space where it intersects ambient, neo-classical, and the weightless bass interzones of contemporary UK club music. Bare boned and bathed in a dusky Californian half-light, the album’s 11 songs feel unnervingly stark yet full of tongue-tip sensuality, making a virtue of negative space and atmosphere with a lo-fi soundtrack-like quality that evokes the idea of nostalgic reflection as the route to the future; “a reminder to look to the past to remember where you’re from, to see where you’re going.”

Holodec's been assembling rugged dancefloor constructions for years now, teetering between 2-step, jungle, nu-rnb, and vaporous ambient forms, but rarely has he been as pointed or full-bodied as he is on ‘All Dogs Come From Wolves’. It's an album that can't possibly be cleaved from the place where it comes from, documenting LA's immigrant experience (Holodec is Asian-American), and finding thematic common ground with Space Afrika's "Honest Labour", absorbing prismatic reflections of footwork, rnb and hip-hop instead of trip-hop and dub techno.

Holodec croons soulfully over muted piano motifs on 'Tiles', evoking the spirit of Sampha or Dawuna, but with a gaseous glamor that's unmistakably Californian. The mood carries into 'The Wild', utilising wistful pads and saturated noise but refusing to let his music sink into the background. If you feel yourself drifting, there's inevitably a voice, a womp, or a stifled drum sound to drag you back into its presence. 'Bounce' is rhythmically heavy, but still somehow smudged around the edges; beats don't so much pump as fray, the closer you listen the more you hear it falling out of time and just out of space. It's more like a memory of neon-hued dance forms than a replication of the thing itself.

Even at the album’s rudest, the flinty jungle drums of ‘Black Market’ still remain desiccated, just out-of-reach, suggesting not telling, in a way that makes the album’s other highlights such as the vaporous R&B voice note of ‘And My Angel Dies Too’ or the shivering baroque figures of ‘Spirit’ so unusually seductive with their nuanced grasp of inference and a reserve of humility.

Purple Vinyl

London’s abundant waterways and parks provide an oneiric muse for Cucina Povera and Ben Vince’s resounding debut full-length collaboration, an engrossing suite of weightless sax, synth and disklavier-bedded soundscapes that land somewhere between Grouper and Terry Riley.

As a newcomer to London, Rossi was caught up in a sort of wondrous reverie - a feeling that seeps through every movement of thia almost hour long album. Vince's plasmic echoes and Rossi's aerial delivery form a poetic union, twisting and painting each sound in pearlescent shades, finding a musical confluence between Rossi's words - fluid, dreamy, hazy ideations - and Vince's shadowy renditions.

Rossi's folk roots shine through like cracks of dawn sunlight on 'Sumu Puistossa' ("fog in the park"), reverberating over organ and dream-zone sax; her words tip into muted surrealism thanks to the controlled chaos of Vince's bleak treatments. His grasp of jazz is transfixing: bending sax motifs like ghostly memories of music from another timeline, smudging them into the soundfield. It’s most effective on the title tracx, where sickly, dissonant notes flicker like an almost-extinguished candle alongside motorised furniture music courtesy of a Disklavier.

From the Terry Riley-esque transcendence of '∞' to the sacred incantation of long-form closer 'Pikku Muurahaiskeko' ("little anthill"), the pair expose a new layer of creativity with each turn, gradually zooming out from discreet, vulnerable beauty to encompass a gently orchestrated chaos of sustained, sublime tension


[b] 02. [_]

4 Techno cuts, from hypnotic techno, to the dance floor, always without losing one inch of his style, serious, effective and totally timeless. Techno of yesterday, today and the future.

Anticipated by the "Soul Drum" 12" EP (SCEP507, 2022), Gerardo Frisina's new double record "Joyful Sound" represents as usual another step forward inside his indefinite travel towards new musical paths. A journey made of wisely distilled notes, bright and sometimes mysterious atmospheres, harmonies that wander through shadows, silences, lights. A chameleonic Gerardo enchants with every release, mixing jazz, Latin, Afro-Cuban sounds, oriental fragrances, electronic beats, tribal percussions, funky variations and, dulcis in fundo, elegant symphonic arrangements with refined mastery.

Angel numbers: a series of recurring numerical patterns or sequences which those who believe in such things invest with cosmic significance.

Also, the name of the forthcoming album by Hamish Hawk – an apt title for an artist who bounces between scepticism and wonder, who alchemises the quotidian, who is engaged in a constant quest to outwit and outflank the ordinary. With the release of Heavy Elevator in September 2021, Edinburgh-based Hawk established himself as a writer of heartfelt, headstrong, unashamedly literate songs to stimulate both pulse and psyche. Heavy Elevator offered words to savour and tunes to relish. The songs were filmic and romantic, blending wit, wisdom, resignation and beauty with a kind of sceptical joie de vivre, delivered in a rich baritone that has drawn comparisons to everyone from Jarvis Cocker to Scott Walker. A singer of style and guile peddling accessible intelligence: what’s

not to love? Heavy Elevator established a powerful artistic imprimatur which nonetheless felt neither defining nor confining. While the album has been justly lauded, Hawk’s next steps have moved the story considerably further forward. Angel Numbers meets growing expectations head on, with panache and aplomb.

Angel numbers: a series of recurring numerical patterns or sequences which those who believe in such things invest with cosmic significance.

Also, the name of the forthcoming album by Hamish Hawk – an apt title for an artist who bounces between scepticism and wonder, who alchemises the quotidian, who is engaged in a constant quest to outwit and outflank the ordinary. With the release of Heavy Elevator in September 2021, Edinburgh-based Hawk established himself as a writer of heartfelt, headstrong, unashamedly literate songs to stimulate both pulse and psyche. Heavy Elevator offered words to savour and tunes to relish. The songs were filmic and romantic, blending wit, wisdom, resignation and beauty with a kind of sceptical joie de vivre, delivered in a rich baritone that has drawn comparisons to everyone from Jarvis Cocker to Scott Walker. A singer of style and guile peddling accessible intelligence: what’s

not to love? Heavy Elevator established a powerful artistic imprimatur which nonetheless felt neither defining nor confining. While the album has been justly lauded, Hawk’s next steps have moved the story considerably further forward. Angel Numbers meets growing expectations head on, with panache and aplomb.

Hailed by The Guardian as “the hopeful new voice of her super-sad generation” Arlo Parks released her second track in January 2019. At the time of release Arlo told Clash Magazine: "When I look at my generation I see a kaleidoscope of dejection, passion and anxiety – there’s this strange mix of sadness and intimacy that saturates Generation Z. 'Super Sad Generation' was inspired by the time my friends and I sat on the green at sunset, half wine drunk and ugly crying for no reason in particular."

Lifted from the Super Sad Generation EP ‘Paperbacks’ took its inspiration from Space Song by Beach House and Changeling by DJ Shadow.

"The British songwriter captures the specifics of being young and messed up like no-one else" - Noisey

Kode9's most ambitious work yet as a multi-disciplinary artist, `Escapology' is the soundtrack album to the sonic fiction `Astro-Darien', itself soon to be released on Hyperdub sub-label Flatlines. Already available as a special edition CD and digital album, we now offer a 1000 piece limited pressing on lucent orange vinyl, in spot-gloss sleeve with additional artwork by Optigram. `Escapology' reconfigures `Astro-Darien's tense, off-world atmospheres into slices of high definition, asymmetric club rhythms, woven through thrilling sound design and vertiginous sonics. "A record brimming with ideas and novel sounds, departing from genre exercises to offer something genuinely different." - Album of the Month -DJ Mag "Kode9's most dextrous and intuitive club music yet, full of mind-bending rhythmic nuggets. He's still the brilliant master behind the scenes, quietly one-upping everyone else." - Resident Advisor "The 15 tracks become proper dancefloor scorchers _ `Escapology' builds a futuristic jumble of aesthetics and sound design." - The Wire

Arkada records is excited to announce our 4th release - forthcoming split vinyl EP featuring the sounds of ADJ & Adrien d’Elzius.

We are very happy to present the first part of the EP with the unique sounds of one of the pioneering artists in the UK underground Electro scene, the label owner of Pyramid Transmissions - ADJ

ADJ originates from and is based in London. He has been playing Underground Electronic Music for over 35 years as a DJ, starting in the days of Early Electro and Hip Hop. He has also been producing and releasing music for 25 years, releasing over 200 tracks in this time on a plethora of labels including Touchin Bass,For Those That Knoe, Another Perspective, Ai, Outside, Cultivated Electronics,Yellow Machines, Crobot Muzik, Diffuse Reality, Netlabel ,Digital Distortions and more...has done remixes for Flint Kids, Scanone, LASynthesis, Carl Finlow, Fleck Esc, Arsonist Recorder , Paul Hierophant to name a few.

He has run the Pyramid Transmissions Record label with label partner Pathic for 20 years and also ran the Analogique record label for 5 years from 1995-2000 releasing Techno, Electro and Electronica as 3 Elements.
ADJ also performed his first LIVE set in a few years in March 2020 MUTABOR in Moscow.

As a DJ, he has played at many festivals including a BLOC residency, Glastonbury For BLOC, Bestival, Shambala, Infiltrate at WMC Miami. 2019 saw another tour of the US with Silicon Scally,Ben Milstein, EVAC, Ion Driver and 214. He also runs the Dodo Club and Frequency Resonate(with Errorbeauty) nights in London and Berlin aswell as playing in Lille, Kiev, Moscow, St Petersburg Berlin,Zagreb,Athens, Napoli, Brussels, Budapest, Vienna, Valencia, Sofia, Paris and many more..

Second part of our EP presents the futuristic glitched-out sounds of the one of a kind Belgium producer Adrien d’Elzius also known under his allies HosmOz.

Adrien d’Elzius was born in the gloomy south of Belgium spending his youth hanging around in a camping and listening to Hip Hop, he started his life in a mess of paradox. At 10, he learned to play drums under his punk’s brother regard, and experimented different kind of rock until 18. That’s where someone showed him a track of Aphex Twin, who blew his mind and made him believe he had finally found the music that suited him. From there, he compulsively spend hours playing around with his computer and slowly made himself a place in the very small community of underground music lover of Brussels under the nickname hosmOz after winning a contest. From his melodic and acidic drill’n’bass beginning, his sound slowed down and got darker, challenging himself to try to create something he couldn’t before. He recently re-released his Lp on Diffuse Reality that make it available on physical form and also his debut album on Burial Soil with remixes by Umwelt and Lloyd Stellar.

The masters of the release are kindly made by Thomas Dunstan. Artwork made by our amazing designer Lawrence Cli

Mental techno Material

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Orange Viny

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire’s new album Every Acre grapples with those themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In “New View,” McEntire cites poets “Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds” fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire’s voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: “Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me I’ll take more of you.” Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, “Shadows” develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how “to make room.” How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, “Rows of Clover” is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a “steadfast hound.” The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers–esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being “down on your knees, clawing at the garden” the only explicit mention of a person in the song. “It ain’t the easy kind of healing,” sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing takes time, time takes time truths that linger painfully. “Dovetail” is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire’s gentle, trembling vibrato harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre explores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.