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Als neuen Stern am modernen Rock-Himmel kann man Those Damn Crows nach fast zehn Jahren Band-Geschichte sicher nicht mehr bezeichnen. Den frischen Wind, den die Waliser in die härteren Gefi lde bringen, sollte man jedoch hervorheben. Denn insbesondere ihr 5. Album "God Shaped Hole" ist vor allem eines: Berstend voll mit Ohrwürmern! Bereits der Opener will laut gespielt werden, und zu allen folgenden Titeln wippt man mindestens mit dem Fuß, wenn man sie nicht direkt mitsummt. Stimmlich zwischen Creed und STP gelegen, reißt Sänger Shane Greenhall mit, und die Band schafft genug Abwechslung, um jedem Song eine ganz eigene, aber leicht wiederzuerkennende Note zu verleihen.

Als neuen Stern am modernen Rock-Himmel kann man Those Damn Crows nach fast zehn Jahren Band-Geschichte sicher nicht mehr bezeichnen. Den frischen Wind, den die Waliser in die härteren Gefi lde bringen, sollte man jedoch hervorheben. Denn insbesondere ihr 5. Album "God Shaped Hole" ist vor allem eines: Berstend voll mit Ohrwürmern! Bereits der Opener will laut gespielt werden, und zu allen folgenden Titeln wippt man mindestens mit dem Fuß, wenn man sie nicht direkt mitsummt. Stimmlich zwischen Creed und STP gelegen, reißt Sänger Shane Greenhall mit, und die Band schafft genug Abwechslung, um jedem Song eine ganz eigene, aber leicht wiederzuerkennende Note zu verleihen.

First ever vinyl edition of the acclaimed British
Jazz artist’s debut album.
In January 2020 Downbeat Magazine named Yazz
as one of 25 artists set to shape the future of jazz
over the next decade.
Recipient of the highly prestigious Ivor Novello
Award for Innovation.
Jazz FM ‘Jazz Act of the Year’ 2020
Jazz FM ‘Jazz Album of the Year’ 2020, for her
2019 album, ‘Polyhymnia’.
Has won accolades from The Wire (Jazz Album
Of The Year), Bandcamp (Best albums of 2017,
Best Jazz Album), The Vinyl Factory, Stereogum,
The Guardian, All About Jazz, and many more
publications.
Yazz Ahmed receives regular airplay on Soho
Radio, Deutschlandfunk, Openlab, BBC Radio
2, BBC Radio 3, FBI Radio, FIP, Radio Raheem,
KCRW, Rai Radio 3, Radio 1 (BE), NTS, Worldwide
FM, and many more.
‘The Birth Of The Fool’ amongst Yazz Ahmed’s
most streamed tracks.
‘Conciliation’ features on the soundtrack of Steve
Buscemi’s 2022 film, ‘The Listener

MJ Lenderman is a songwriter born and raised in Asheville, North Carolina. The anatomy of an MJ record might go something like this: warped pedal steels and skuzzed out guitar; crackin" a cold one with some buds; a voice reminiscent of the high lonesome warble of a choirboy. Songs snake their way from a lo-fi home recording to something glossier made withn longtime friends at Asheville"s Drop of Sun studios, but the recording setting doesn"t seem to matter much - at its core, a Lenderman song rings true. Manning Fireworks is a remarkable development in MJ Lenderman"s story as an incredibly incisive singer-songwriter, whose propensity for humor always points to some uneasy, disorienting darkness. The punchlines are still here, as are the rusted-wire guitar solos that have made Lenderman a favorite for indie rock fans looking for an ernerging guitar hero. There"s a new sincerity, too, as Lenderman Iets listeners clearly see the world through his warped lens.

Posthumous record releases are always charged with emotion but when the release comes from a 17 year-old artist that was just getting started it is heartbreaking Anxious is a mesmerizing selection of songs that explore the highs, lows and uncertainty of teenage life through the eyes of Nell and is the follow-up to Where The Viaduct Looms, her debut collaboration with The Flaming Lips that explored the works of Nick Cave.

Guided by the talented Jack and Lily Wolter of Penelope Isles, who helped shape Nell's songs, some of which had been in the works since she was twelve years old, the result is an album brimming with emotion, playful melodies and a depth that hints at what Nell's future may have held. Nell's record includes three songs which were written in partnership with Canadian folk band Shred Kelly with whom she spent winter evenings writing in her hometown of Fernie, British Columbia, huddled round the fre in 2022. Jack and Lily Wolter subsequently completed these songs and the rest of the works in Brighton in 2023.

Nell's frst and only studio recording session at Bella Union's studio in Brighton at the tender age of 15 was an intense mix of long days with Jack and Lily expertly teasing out what was really going on in Smith's mind with the help of Doritos, Fizzy sweets, Coca Cola and inspiration gained by sneaking her into venues to see local bands play.

A lot of Nell's creative drive was rooted in raw teenage emotions; apprehension; love; travel; gratefulness; ambition; and grief. These moods are visited throughout the tracks on the album with an instrumental approach that brings joy into even the darkest of songs.

2LP in printed inner sleeves + 12 page booklet with detailed info, secrets and unpublished pictures written by Walter Verdin himself. This collection dives deep into Verdin's prolific and experimental music from 1980 to the beginning of this millennium, capturing an era of a DIY punk spirit, improvisation, creative freedom and swimming against the tide.



We are thrilled to announce the upcoming release of 'Pingpong', a 2LP compilation showcasing previously unreleased works by Walter Verdin, the founding member behind Pas De Deux, the Belgian band which delivered 80's cult classics 'Rendez-Vous' & 'Cardiocleptomanie'. This collection dives deep into Verdin's prolific and experimental music from 1980 to the beginning of this millennium, capturing an era of a DIY punk spirit, improvisation, creative freedom and swimming against the tide.

This album is not just a compilation-it's a sonic journey into Verdin's unique approach to music-making, which he nurtured in the AV studio at KU Leuven's Audiovisual Department (AVD). Having begun his civil service there in 1980, Verdin was exposed to a rich array of audio and video tools that would shape his work for years to come. From the outset, Verdin's process was defined by an openness to experimentation, where he would explore sound and music organically rather than following pre-existing concepts.

The songs on Pingpong reflect his fascination with creating spontaneous, layered compositions. These recordings were made using limited tools, such as his duophonic Yamaha CS-40M synthesizer, borrowed drum machines, and tape loops, and were further enriched by techniques such as reverb and vintage sound manipulation. The results are raw, tactile, and full of personality-often more vibrant and personal than the polished, commercial recordings that would follow in professional studios.

Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, Verdin developed his craft, regularly drawing from his diverse interests in film history, soundtracks, video art, and avant-garde music. His innovative use of tape recorders, improvisational techniques, and later, MIDI and digital tools, makes for a fascinating and varied listening experience. This compilation includes everything from proto-techno and abstract new wave to avant-pop songs, sample-driven experiments, and the oddball TV-inspired tunes that have long been a staple of his work.

This selection is a true reflection of Verdin's "keen amateur" approach: a method focused on discovery, happy accidents, and unexpected results. These compositions aren't about achieving technical perfection, but about capturing moments of sonic exploration and transformation. The 21 recordings have been meticulously curated, with some tracks freshly arranged while others remain true to their original, unedited forms.

'Pingpong' finally brings these forgotten gems into the light. The album includes not only unreleased music but also fragments from Verdin's video art and multimedia projects, offering a rare glimpse into his creative evolution over two decades. Stretching up the boundaries between medium and message, aligning his own musical univers.

Take a deep breath and dive into the works of an artist whose explorations pushed his boundaries of sound and technology.

A Belgian sonic cut up, ping ponging in between many worlds.

The album’s title, New World, Lonely Ride, gestures toward its meditative orientation. The duo offers a series of reflections on the zeitgeist of our present moment, the spirit of our age: the isolation and loneliness that continues to echo in the wake of the pandemic; the fractures that mar our political discourse; the uncertainty that has stamped itself on the future of democracy. The vast geography of America and the absence of a common ground, a shared political vision, have contributed to the affective landscape of contemporary American life—of what it feels like to live in the United States today.

Using instrumental voices and textures drawn from the traditional American forms of folk, country, bluegrass and blues, and informed with a modern sense of ambience and space, the sound is both contemporary and deeply rooted. With New World, Lonely Ride, Grigoni and Pan American join countless American artists who have drawn upon this landscape—physical and affective— giving it a voice and shape, listening to its character. And in starting there, with listening, offer a response for the future.

DJ Support: Walla P (Voyage Funktastique), Zackey Force Funk, Soul Clap.

Moniquea brings it back to the west coast streets that shaped her. 'Womp In My Spirit' is a direct ode to the California g-funk sound that has also inspired much of her previous output in the modern funk vein – This time it's just in the form of a rap song, co-produced by Moniquea herself & XL Middleton, who is also featured on the track.

Z Records returns with a Hustle-tastic 12" to light up both your life and DJ sets. It's the boss himself Dave Lee who kicks off with his extended rework of a bonafide Brit Funk classic in the shape of Hi Tension's 'British Hustle'. Featuring David Josephs's signature vocals over the chugging Caribbean rhythm track, its a song that's never received an extended club mix from the tapes since its first release in 1978. His second cut is a Re-Wriggle of a Funky Worm volume pumping classic that becomes a fat-bottomed house jam with stomping brass, ear-worm vocal hooks and Latin inspired keys. "On the flip' (as they say) is Foreal People's 'Tango Hustle' - a driving clav heavy, jazz funk workout complete with chanting dance instructions over various solos. Add in an Acapella and some 'Hustle Beats' and you have a very muscular package.

MARTHIAL joins NECHTO with ‘NECH029’, a four-track vinyl release blending tradition and futurism. The record pays homage to a genre central to MARTHIAL’s imagination, drawing on its history to shape a forward-thinking sonic vision. The Milan-born and -based artist describes the EP as “a reflection on change: everything transforms, everything evolves, and we are tasked with finding harmony between what has been and what could be”.
Born Alessandro Vaccari, MARTHIAL is a DJ, producer, and founder of Milan’s independent cultural hub, the Tempio del Futuro Perduto. Through this unique space and his 24/H Records label, MARTHIAL has collaborated with influential artists like Stanislav Tolkachev and Fabrizio Rat. His music evokes ethereal atmospheres and hypnotic rhythms, bridging Detroit-inspired soundscapes with innovative, interstellar journeys.
The EP represents a personal journey for MARTHIAL, who describes the process of revisiting this sonic language as an opportunity to redefine himself and his perspective on the world. By channelling the past as a guide and embracing the future as a responsibility, he crafts a cohesive narrative that combines deep emotional resonance with forward-thinking energy.
‘NECH029’ is a cohesive exploration of these elements, delivering pulsating energy and emotional depth across its four tracks: ‘Don’t Wanna’, ‘Soul Groove’, ‘The Dancer Gift’, and ‘Infinito Imperfetto’.

Every so often an album of such deceptive genius, of such aesthetic clarity, comes across our desk and transfixes us. Thought Leadership's III Of Pentacles is one such work of art. It's an instant classic and glides into the pantheon of timeless guitar-soul totems. Originally out on cassette only, we present the first ever vinyl issue. It's a hideously limited pressing of 300 for the world, so don't sleep on this.

Thought Leadership has already garnered big support from such tastemakers as Ruf Dug, Jason Boardman, Nathan Gregory Wilkins, J Walk, Evan Woodward, Justin Robertson and Heavenly's Jeff Barrett. The first time we heard III Of Pentacles, we nearly wept at the thought that something so beautiful, so bursting with real hope, could even exist in this brutal world. To quote the Quietus, "imagine if Stockport was situated somewhere along the Pacific Coast Highway rather than the M60, and you’ll have some idea of the coordinates to the post-industrial, sunburnt dream space opened up here."

So, who is Thought Leadership? What do we know about them? They reside in Stockport and are obsessed with ethereal guitar records. That’s about it. That and these X ideas shared with you, the listener.

Captured on a multitrack recorder in a terraced house in Stockport, this is as DIY as it gets. Glaringly obvious is a love for classic Factory and early 4AD. Perhaps it is the proximity to the River Mersey where the ideas arrived, and there being but three miles between where this and the Durutti Column’s classic “LC” was recorded, as the two operate across a familiar aural plain. Be it geographic or otherwise, limited by a true economy of means, namely guitar, pedals and drum machine, the fruit borne from these humble tools has been indelibly shaped by the perma-gloom that hangs low over the Manchester and Stockport environs.

Ushered in on 808 kicks, “I” opens the record as a beautiful Sketch for Stockport; a chiming maj7 chord dripping in chorus and delay sets us on our way. The Vini Reilly comparisons are unavoidable. “II” is all John McGeoch, with its trippy goth-psyche arpeggiated pattern cascading across the stereo image. Do those drums swing? But goths don’t swing?! They do here. We’re treated to a bit of crunch on the lead guitar part and some really lush reverb. We even step forth into shoegaze territory, albeit briefly, for the middle eight. “III”, a firm Be With favourite, continues the dreamy psyche leanings of the previous track, with an even bigger melody this time. We’re hearing The Teardrop Explodes on quaaludes here. A proto-dream pop cut soaked in melancholy. But watch out! The coda finds Johnny Marr has gotten into the ‘ludes and gatecrashed the final bars with some incredibly ignorant B minor pentatonic noodling.

“IV” ditches the drum machine for the first in a suite of three beatless electric guitar duets. The first of these semi-improvised rubato ideas is a striking departure from the earlier playful pieces, coming over emo and moody. Greyscale sulking for Stratocaster. Sign us up. “V” contains some really lyrical phrasing; a gorgeous conversation between two guitars. Real Stopfordian Primitive; meditative, crude, rain-soaked. We cycle through the same feels, then end on an alluring chord that breaks the pattern. Sometimes thoughts are like this. “VI” creeps in all plaintive, then a huge reverberating descending guitar line comes tumbling in like something off those classic Dif Juz 12”s. There’s some Maurice Deebank in there too, for sure, and the coda nods to early Meat Puppets.

“VII” rounds out the A Side, and succinctly presents a summary of all ideas explored thus far on our journey. The drum machine is back, this time with some wispy delay, before both guitars enter together playing interlocking lines. As we start, we end, with the delayed 808 guiding us out.

Opening Side B, “VIII” sees us embark on the other side of our journey as we slow down and space out. The drum machine is here, but the guitars are different now. Think Sensations Fix or Göttsching at his most peeled out. Drones, ambient drifts of broken chords and distorted lead lines all swirl round the mix. Side B is one for headphones for sure. “IX” is almost too exquisite for words. A New Age Mixolydian voyage through the cosmos. If you’re unmoved by the end you’ve probably got no pulse. We were left blunted ineffable by this one, such is the smudged elegance radiating from this idea. All hail the Thought Leader.

“X” is a full circle moment, and a fitting end. If you’ve not already elsewhere across the platter, you will be getting heavy Robin Guthrie vibes from this piece. Like the rest of Side B, this improvised jam sticks within a framework of related chords but the celestial energies channelled might invite us to wander “outside”, especially when the Tubescreamer is engaged.

RIYL Durutti Coulmn, Cocteau Twins, Dif Juz, Sensations Fix, Spike and adjacent guitar musicks – but, ultimately, this is just its own thing; such is the strength of ideas presented. "It’s good music to chill out to." (??)

Be With is honoured to present the first ever vinyl release of III Of Pentacles, carefully remastered by Be With's engineer Simon Francisco to ensure it sounds better than ever after its initial tape release. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry, in Holland. The original tape cover artwork, so crucial to Thought Leadership's striking visual aesthetic, has been rejigged for vinyl issue here at Be With. Its stark presentation befits the music contained within. They inform us that they shuffled their tarot deck to ask what the album should be called and the card you see on the cover popped out. The III Of Pentacles tarot card represents teamwork, shared vision and the ability to achieve goals through collaboration. We like to think Thought Leadership and Be With have nailed this one.

In the midst of recording his 12th album 'Why The Worry', wavering in his resolve to finish what he'd started, Seth Walker came to the realization: "This does not define me; this is not who I am forever; this is just a moment" . "Distance colors compositions over the years and each album is left as merely a reflection of its own period in time." The new album finds Walker reunited with old friends and familiar names. Once again Jano Rix steps behind the boards, co-producing the album with Seth and engineer Brook Sutton. In the producer's fifth outing he's become an invaluable sounding board, the kind that knows what's missing and, just as importantly, what needs to be taken away. Oliver Wood (The Wood Brothers) lends a pen to the title track and Seth's classically trained father Scott adds strings to "I'm Getting Ready," a song penned by Walker's contemporary Michael Kiwanuka. Mostly, though, the record was shepherded into shape by Walker's trio, rounded out by longtime confidants Rhees Williams (Guitar, Piano) and Mark Raudabaugh (Drums). The three let the studio guide them, entering without agenda, set straight by the title's mantra to stop worrying where they'd end up.

With a growing international reputation for championing forward-thinking artists in the contemporary jazz space, Denmark"s April Records proudly presents the third album from instrumental collective Andorra. Their most ambitious undertaking yet, the audio-visual release invites audiences to fully immerse themselves in the energetic grooves, lyrical melodies, and colorful modern production that define their sound. Andorra"s eponymous 2021 debut reunited five friends who met at the Funen Music Conservatory and went on to work across a range of disciplines, from film music and orchestral work to large ensembles and chamber jazz. Realising their long-held desire to explore their collective creative potential, the ensemble describes their sound as "modern vintage", bringing together the nostalgic warmth of analog synthesis, present-day digital audio manipulation techniques, and jazz musicianship steeped in tradition. Taking a decisive step to perfect the production of their music, the quintet recorded at Lundgaard Studios - one of Denmark"s most prestigious studios - and placed the responsibility of mixing in the hands of their own synth-guru Peter Moller, whose deep understanding of the band"s sound made him best suited for the role. Taking a step back from the dark, brooding music often associated with the Nordic countries, "III" is a playful, high-energy, deep pocket collection of seven original pieces that are unapologetic in their grooving, in-your-face attitude. Driving complex drum parts, shimmering guitar textures, squelching synth pads, thick old-school bass tones, and lush timbres from Mads La Cour"s horns deliver catchy and danceable hooks as easily as they do spacious explorations of texture and vivid harmony. The entire album has been shaped into a concert film directed by photographer Jesper Van, set to premiere at select cinemas across Denmark - soon to be available online - offering global listeners a comprehensive experience of Andorra"s creative vision.

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.

During the pandemic, The Ophelias transformed uncertainty into Spring Grove, their fourth album and most dynamic offering yet. Named after a Cincinnati cemetery, the album blends nostalgia with fresh perspective, reflecting on themes of relationships, identity, and power dynamics. Singer-songwriter Spencer Peppet draws from her OCD diagnosis during the pandemic and the clarity that comes with growing older, resulting in lyrics that explore the cracks and complexities of human connection.

Produced by Julien Baker, who adds lush textures and harmonies, Spring Grove marks a turning point in the band’s evolution. Recorded at Young Avenue Sound in Memphis, the album centers on the core quartet—Peppet, violinist Andrea Gutmann Fuentes, bassist Jo Shaffer, and drummer Mic Adams—with arrangements that balance cinematic intensity and delicacy. Gutmann Fuentes’s violin provides striking countermelodies, while Shaffer’s bass lines, inspired by doom metal, explore melodic depth. Adams’s drumming reflects his first project after transitioning, offering nuanced rhythms that blend power and tenderness.

With one queer and two trans members, the band has moved beyond the reductive label of an “all-girl” group, delving deeply into themes of womanhood and identity. Tracks like “Salome” and “Parade” examine power dynamics and friendship, while nature imagery in songs like “Cumulonimbus” and “Vulture Tree” mirrors lived experience. Across 13 tracks, the album’s cinematic and introspective journey scavenges the past for meaning, ultimately embracing transformation. On the closing track, “Shapes,” Peppet reaches serene acceptance, singing, “I see what’s coming after... a reflection in the water. I am rippling forever.”

Spring Grove captures the band’s evolution, offering a transcendent meditation on self-awareness, identity, and growth, leaving listeners with a sense of profound discovery.

»Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds« explores sound’s relationship with architecture, inspired by the Naala Badu building at the Art Gallery of NSW. Created from sound prompts responded to by artists like Jim O’Rourke and claire rousay, the work reflects on space, collaboration, and the fluid nature of sonic environments.

I like to think that sound haunts architecture.

It’s one of the truly magical interactions afforded by sound’s immateriality. It’s also something that has captivated us from the earliest times. It’s not difficult to imagine the exhilaration of our early ancestors calling to one another in the dark cathedral like caves which held wonder, and security, for them.

Today the ways in which sound occupies space, the so-called liquid architecture, holds just as much wonder, albeit one that is often dominated by functionality and form. Beyond those constraints however, how sound operates in the material world is something that exists at the fundament of our understanding of music, and moreover within the broad church we know as the canon of sound arts.

Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds is a record born out of these relations. In a direct sense, the record is the product of an invitation by curator Jonathan Wilson to create a sound environment, reflecting on the Naala Badu building at the Art Gallery Of NSW. The building’s name, which translates from the Gadigal language to ‘seeing water’, was opened in 2022 and this piece was offered as an atmospheric tint to visitors walking through the building throughout the year following its opening.

It’s also a record born out of a recognition for the porousness sound affords, especially as a device for collaborative endeavour. This composition is one born out of generosity and acoustic solidarity. Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds is comprised not just of my sounds, but also that of an incredible array of artists who have also operated in the orbit of the Art Gallery Of NSW. The players include Amby Downs, Chris Abrahams, Chuck Johnson, Claire Rousay, Dean Hurley, Jim O’Rourke, JW Paton, Madeleine Cocolas, Norman Westberg, Stephen Vitiello and Vanessa Tomlinson.

The piece was constructed around two long form sound prompts that each musician responded and contributed to. These materials there when digested into the final piece you hear. The work could not exist without the substantial offerings these artists made, and I am immensely grateful to each of them.

I’ll finish with a little note that appears on the LP itself.

Place is an evolving, subjective experience of space. Spaces hold the opportunity for place, which we create moment to moment, shaped by our ways of sense-making.

Whilst the architectural and material features of space might remain somewhat constant, the people, objects, atmospheres, and encounters that fill them are forever collapsing into memory.

Lawrence English
Performed by Amby Downs, Chris Abrahams, Chuck Johnson, Claire Rousay, Dean Hurley, Jim O’Rourke, JW Paton, Madeleine Cocolas, Norman Westberg, Stephen Vitiello, Vanessa Tomlinson

Chris Ryan Williams (trumpet & electronics) and Lester St. Louis (cello & electronics) work together as HxH (H by H). Their skills have seen them move smoothly across various situations, constantly carving out new terrain and working in new configurations of musicians at a rapid pace. While worth reading, their biographies capture only a part of their complex rhizome.

HxH started about three years ago. The project is a direct response to all their activity with others and more importantly all their future leaning sonic desires. Their debut album STARK PHENOMENA is both their first studio recording and their first physical release. The album is appropriately set to be released by KMRU on his growing label OFNOT. It’s an ideal introduction to their sound world and their approach.

HxH describe their music as “electroacoustic,” but until recently the presence of Black musicians in this field has been greatly overlooked and largely ignored, making this phrase only partially appropriate. What HxH do really is to always be unpredictable. Every gig is a new soundscape. Sometimes you might hear echoes of Autechre or Robert Hood but then the sound-field will open up into a new terrain all their own. Chris and Lester bring together techniques from across the sound spectrum of electronic music and also draw on their deep backgrounds in Jazz, Improvisation, Classical and Noise scenes to create a sound that is true to them. After all, these two have worked with the likes of Bennie Maupin and the music of Black Fluxus artist Ben Patterson. Their rhizome is deep.

One of the ways that their unique approach manifests is in their merging of both acoustic instruments and electronic instruments in real time. This is something few have managed to do – but their spontaneous leanings work in both complex and accessible ways because of their deep understanding of landscape crafting. You can hear this clearly on the track “Pyrex Vision.” Their approach makes it tempting to compare their music to Sun Ra jamming with Laurel Halo – a comparison that would be only partly accurate.

Chris and Lester note that the sounds on STARK PHENOMENA are “imbued with such hopeful, gracious care; one that is far flung from obsessive carefulness or fuck the world carelessness, but more a caring embrace without the fuzziness of nostalgia.”

They note that when they began working together, they would “always come back to speaking on our concepts of an architecture of the expanse,” noting that their live sets often take on the joyfully noisy task of “dreaming big.” For HxH it was essential that STARK PHENOMENA have a quality that is “almost sculptural.” They consider the album “an object to be viewed from all sides.” This kind of thinking has resulted in them directly engaging with numerous sculptors and artists including Torkwase Dyson. Shape wise HxH’s sound fields work in a parallel to Dyson’s black architectural works.

They also note that the opening cut “BEACH” (the opening and longest track from the album) was “written weeks after our first gig in a studio session donated to us by our dear friend jaimie branch.” And that Pyrex Vision “was continually being edited months after sending our ‘final mixes’ to KMRU.” Their sound sources and samples come from studio sessions, live gigs, durational installations, 3am improvised downloads and more.

KMRU notes: "I think there is an in-between layer on this record. I was first caught by the Pyrex Vision track which organically flows between monologue, subtle field recording, and instrumentation. It's such a beautiful track, evoking deep emotion through simplicity. STARK PHENOMENA effortlessly glides in between imaginative mosaics of sounds — free yet complex — unlocking memories within its layers."

Bugge Wesseltoft has long been a shaper of his own jazz idioms, through his diverse solo albums, his group projects such as New Conception of Jazz, OKWorld! and RYMDEN, and collaborations with artists such as Sidsel Endresen, Henning Kraggerud or Henrik Schwarz.

"Am Are" features special constellations of superb musicians that spans both generations and styles, and is an exploration of sonic textures, dynamic contrasts of mood and style, and ranges from sparse arrangements through to complex layers of dubs and loops and improvisational interplay.

The album begins with Bugge alone on "How?" with layers of undulating atmospheric synth, brought into focus by Bugge's piano at the forefront, creating a minimalist miniature that is both emotive and serene. For "Villrein" Bugge is joined by Elias Tafjord on drums, beginning with a santur-like synth figure, floating over ominous formant sci-fi bass synths bubbling and pulsing, and overlaid by phrenetic piano that only stops to lock into the santur figure before relaunching on its own journeys, all underpinned by Elias Tafjord's expressive drumming. "Is Anyone Listening?" demonstrate's Bugge's songcraft, layering muted percussive piano behind Rohey's distinctive and beautiful vocals punctuated by Martin Myhre Olsen's tenor saxophone, creating a soulful mood tinged with desperation.

"BAG" presents the first classic piano trio of the album - Bugge on piano and synths, Arild Andersen on bass, and Gard Nilssen on drums - announcing itself with an insistent riff, chattering drums, breaking into a progressive rock-style passage of bass and piano in unison. "Reel", the second track from this trio, is a mellow soundscape that evolves to become hazy urban downbeat jazz.

The second piano trio of Bugge (Rhodes and Korg MS20 synth), Sveinung Hovensjø (Electric Bass), and Jon Christensen (Drums and Bells) offers a completely different perspective. The first track "Render" features Bugge's Zawinul-esque Rhodes and monosynth leads, Sveinung's fuzz bass in something of a leading role, all carried with chattering gusto by Jon Christensen's dynamic drumming that brings texture and space as well as rhythm to the piece. "Vender" begins as an atmospheric piece, with reed organ-like synth washes, and octave-processed bass with a somewhat sitar-like tone, meandering until the track breaks down into drums and bass weaving around an insistent drum machine loop, dripping with synth pads and monosynth lead.

"JazzBasill" introduces the third piano trio - featuring Bugge (Piano), Jens Mikkel Madsen (Acoustic Bass) and Øyunn (Drums) - and offers a classic piano trio style with urban sophistication, that is lyrical, and interspersed with staccato cadences, giving a feeling of broken swing, slightly staggered yet driving forwards. The title track "AM ARE" is late night jazz, with baroque whispers, and distinctly melodic.

The final track, "Think Ahead" features the non-standard trio of Bugge (Piano/Organ), Oddrun Lilja (Guitar) and Sanskriti Shrestha (Tablas/Harp). Beginning with a minimalist piano figure, table, and sustained guitar, the track breaks down to a noise surge and ambient windscape, with guitar birds and abstract grinding, before returning to minimalist melodicism.

The shifting personnel across the album, as well as the three different studios in which it was recorded - Village Recording in Copenhagen, Rainbow Studios in Oslo, and his own Buggesroom Studio - creates a feeling of dynamic change and musical variety that is unified by Bugge's piano and keyboards. His playing moves between foreground, where he allows the music to elevate him, and background, where he move gently like a beneficent presence, tending to the demands of the spirit of the musical moments he has captured. It is an album powered by restless exploration and shaped by distinctive musical personalities; it is a journey through different moods, illuminated and brought into focus by Bugge's measured approach and guiding hand.

"Volcanic Tongue" war ein Plattenladen, der von 2005-2015 in Glasgow von David Keenan und Heather Leigh betrieben wurde und zeitgenössische DIY-Musik aus der ganzen Welt in kleinen selbstgemachten CD-R-Auflagen veröffentliche. Parallel versuchte man, vergessene Künstler aus der Vergangenheit ins Rampenlicht zu rücken, die ihre Musik oft als Privatpressung veröffentlicht hatten. Der Laden war für seine wöchentliche Mailingliste bekannt, in der Keenan enthusiastisch über Neuankömmlinge rappte, insbesondere über die Platte der Woche, die den Spitznamen "tip of the tongue" (Zungenspitze) erhielt. Dieser eklektische Sampler mit 20 "tips of the tongue" - von Outsider-Synth über Psych-Folk bis zu kaputtem Rock'n'Roll, aufgenommen zwischen 1968-2013 - ist eine Hommage an eine lebendige und vielseitige Underground-Avantgarde. Black Vinyl 2LP in PVC-Hülle, von Julian House designt, mit bedruckten Innentaschen samt Linernotes von David Keenan zu jedem Künstler.

PS: Gleichzeitig erscheint beim White Rabbit-Verlag eine Deluxe-Ausgabe des gleichnamigen Buches mit einer CD-Version des Samplers, limitiert auf 1.000 Exemplare, und signiert von Autor David Keenan und Designer Julian House.

DJ Jewel Debuts with Mesmerizing 8-Track PHONK tape

Manchester DJ/Producer Glinks lands on Astral Black with ‘The Killaz’ his first project under the 'DJ JEWEL' alias, dedicated to diving deeper into the southern inspired phonk he explores monthly on @balamii with his 'the influence of memphis rap' show.

DJ Jewel's sound draws inspiration from Memphis rap, phonk, and ghettotech, infused with dusty soul and jazz samples, heavy 808s, and sharp snares that cut through the mix.

"This record is my introduction to the world as a producer," says DJ Jewel. "I wanted to pay homage to the sounds that shaped me while bringing my own twist to the genre." THE KILLAZ will be available on all major streaming platforms starting Feb 21st, with limited edition cassettes available via Astral Black.

Am 28. März 2025 erscheint das neue Album ”Shapeshifter” von Memphis May Fire als CD und Vinyl:

On Chrystia Cabral's fourth album as SPELLLING, the Bay Area artist transforms her acclaimed avant-pop project into a mirror. Cabral's lyrics for Portrait of My Heart tackle love, intimacy, anxiety, and alienation, trading the allegorical approach of much of her previous work for something pointed into her human heart. The album's thematic forthrightness is echoed in its arrangements, making it the sharpest, most direct SPELLLING album to date. From the dark minimalism of her earliest music to the lavishly orchestrated prog-pop of 2021's The Turning Wheel to this newly energetic expression of her creative spirit, Cabral has proved again and again that SPELLLING can be whatever she needs it to be. The title track, with its propulsive drum groove and anthemic chorus of "I don't belong here," is the most potent embodiment of the album's turn toward emotional directness. Once the main melody emerged, Cabral used the song as a tool to process her anxiety as a performer and opted for a tighter, more rock-oriented composition. This transformation mirrors the album's broader shift toward energy and immediacy, driven by the core band of Wyatt Overson (guitar), Patrick Shelley (drums), and Giulio Xavier Cetto (bass), whose collaboration uncovers new contours of the SPELLLING sound. Cabral still writes and demos in isolation, but presenting the songs for Portrait of My Heart to her bandmates helped her discover their eventual lively, organic forms. So did working with a trio of producers_The Turning Wheel mixing engineer Drew Vandenberg, SZA collaborator Rob Bisel, and Yves Tumor producer Psymun. Key guest contributions further shape the album. Chaz Bear (Toro y Moi) delivers SPELLLING's first duet on "Mount Analogue," Turnstile guitarist Pat McCrory turns Cabral's original piano demo for "Alibi" into the crunchy, riff-y version that appears on the record, while Zulu's Braxton Marcellous gives "Drain" its sludgy heft. These parts aren't just incorporated seamlessly into the album; they feel like an integral part of its universe. Ultimately, though, Portrait of My Heart is nobody's record but Cabral's. She fearlessly draws the curtain back on parts of herself that she's never included in SPELLLING before_her feelings of being an outsider, her overly guarded nature, the way she can throw herself recklessly into intimate relationships and then cool on them just as quickly. "It's very much an open diary of all those sensations," she says.

Die in Virginia ansässige Band Palmyra wird am 28. März 2025 ihr erstes Album Restless über Oh Boy Records veröffentlichen. Das zehn Songs umfassende Projekt zeichnet sich durch die einzigartige Mischung aus traditionellen Folk-Streicherarrangements, üppigen Harmonien und ernsthaftem Songwriting aus. Palmyras Sound, der von NPR als einer der ,Best New Artists of 2024" bezeichnet wird, wird oft als entfernter Cousin der Avett Brothers mit Einflüssen von Pine Grove und Houndmouth beschrieben. Sie nicken in Richtung Appalachian und Midwestern Americana, mit komplizierten Arrangements, die die Illusion eines vollen, größeren Ensembles erzeugen.

After a year-long creative process fueled by collective composition and live jam sessions, Gin Tonic Orchestra returns with "Let The Children House" on Floors Records. The EP is a testament to their ever-evolving sound, deeply rooted in live improvisation and the spirit of club music.

Recorded in the heart of the Alps at "Maison des Artistes" in Chamonix, the band surrounded themselves with legendary analog synthesizers—ARP 2600, ARP Odyssey, Clavinet D6, Fender Rhodes MKII, Jupiter 4, Jupiter 8, JX-8P, Korg M1, Moog Subsequent 37, OB-X, Oberheim SEM, Roland MV8000, Wurlitzer—to sculpt a sound pulsating with the hypnotic grooves, euphoric synths, and raw underground spirit of '90s house music. Each track was shaped with care, influenced by the group's diverse influences and their shared vision of an immersive dancefloor experience, embracing the hypnotic trance of repetitive music that blurs the line between consciousness and surrender.

Much like children lost in play, Gin Tonic Orchestra embraced chaos, letting their creativity flow freely, drawing inspiration from their mentors, and the stories passed down through club culture. The result is an EP that not only embodies their musical identity but also carries a bold statement: "Let The Children House" is a call to let artists create without constraints, a message of artistic freedom in an industry often driven by formulas.

With a background that includes a debut EP on Mother Tongue, a standout performance at Nuits Sonores ranked in Resident Advisor's Top 5, and collaborations with UK jazz-funk legend Kaidi Tatham, deep house master Ron Trent, and the H2H project led by Chez Damier & Ben Vedren, Gin Tonic Orchestra continues to push boundaries between live music and electronic culture. Their new release is both a tribute to the past and a step into the future—a journey where house music is not just played, but lived

“Onde” is a story about continuous change, in which the sea resonates everywhere, from the gentle movement that can lull before it transforms into a tidal wave that destroys, making a clean sweep. It holds within itself numerous metaphors and multiple states of mind that, like sea waves, can take on thousands of forms.
While all water moves, changing shape and force, each song lets sounds pass through it within a sea of frequencies in which Cristiano della Monica's percussion and Ernesto Nobili's guitars guarantee Maria Mazzotta's song the possibility to navigate onward. The voice shoves off and sets sail, allowing itself to be hurled far away, sinking before returning to the surface and, finally, finding rest. For the three musicians who, from Lecce and Naples, have always had the sea in their minds and eyes, this album tells the story of the movement of the sea, from the torment that navigating it entails to the relief that, in the end, each landing offers.

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.

Who is Beatrice? Who is Melissa? Could they be one and the same?

This is the question at the heart of Secret, the duo’s debut album—or at least, that’s what the music seems to suggest. If sound is an extension of ourselves, it can also become a character we shape. The main character of Secret isn’t visible to the human eye, and yet they give off an androgynous and timeless energy, rooted in multiple languages and spaces. As the album unfolds, we sense the fusion of two distinct energies combined into a single, composite being. This constantly shifting, blurred identity comes to life in the album’s profusion of genres: club music, ambient, chanson, trip-hop, UK garage, and tech house. The tracks stretch and contract, following the trajectory of a dual voice.

Behind Secret lies a mélange of perspectives. Beatrice M., a Franco-British artist at the head of the label Bait, curates an innovative blend of syncopated UK club styles (mostly dubstep) and trancy techno grooves. Melissa Weikart, a French-American songwriter trained in classical piano with a deep passion for jazz, makes intimate avant-pop songs that embody her unique, hybrid approach to music-making. The diverse musical collaborations in Secret reinforce a dynamic that is central to both of their artistic journeys from the start, and these collaborations melt seamlessly into the album’s overall aesthetic. Despite a confluence of influences, the implied development of this obscure, extraterrestrial main character grounds us in a refreshing coherence. Secret is rich in variety and style, but above all, it diffuses a calm and serene atmosphere. Even when the BPM speeds up, we are carried along, suspended in Beatrice Melissa’s uncanny world.

"When the Distance is Blue" is Macie Stewart"s International Anthem debut. The Chicago-based multi-instrumentalist, composer, and improviser describes the collection as "a love letter to the moments we spend in-between" - a letter realized via an intentional return to piano, her first instrument and the origin of her creative expression. Here Stewart creates a striking and cinematic work through collages of prepared piano, field recordings, and string quartet compositions, one that gives shape to a transient universe all its own while tracing the line of her musical past, full circle.

45 Pounds is a record of thrilling cacophony: whirring drums meet the sound of instruments which have been twisted and bent into new shapes, all of which are paired with the arresting growls of Zack Borzone. Across the record the four-piece re-imagine what is possible within the confines of a band set up, creating music that perfectly encapsulates the information overload of our times.

The band have become known for their stellar live performances and now with 45 Pounds they have set that electrifying feeling to record. With 45 Pounds YHWH Nailgun have created a statement that is short to cut through the modern day post-algorithmic sludge. Stay tuned for more news.

Limited double 180g gatefold vinyl.

Good block say:

"Presenting our debut album ‘Window'. A collection of works recorded between 2017 - 2024.

Self released - mix, art direction, design and photography by ourselves. This collection of tracks, varied in style and emotion, offers an insight into the wide variety of inspirations that have shaped our sound over the last 15 years. These tracks weave together an unexpected blend of influences such as acid, synth, world and electro bound by our signature sound.

The album is our fourth release on our own Good Block imprint following, 4 Corners EP, Aquaculture EP and Naiad

It has been over a decade since Anthony Mills created Wildcookie, his most celebrated project. With tracks like Heroine and Serious Drug, the album Cookie Dough gained worldwide recognition, landing on numerous radio playlists, including Gilles Peterson’s show. Even after all these years, it remains a favorite on streaming platforms. Now, fourteen years later, Mills returns, teaming up with Marek “Latarnik” Pędziwiatr to create Crack Rock—a bold evolution of Wildcookie’s legacy.
While Wildcookie’s signature warm, jazzy Fender Rhodes sound defined its identity, Crack Rock shifts toward 1980s-inspired compositions crafted by Pędziwiatr, known for his work with EABS, Błoto, and Zima Stulecia. The duo explored yacht rock, drawing inspiration from Fleetwood Mac and Michael McDonald, maintaining the genre’s clean vocals and catchy melodies. However, their experimental spirit pushed the sound further, distorting the polished yacht rock aesthetic—leading to Crack Rock, a clever wordplay reflecting both the music and its themes.
Anthony Mills is known for layered wordplay, and the album’s name nods to deeper personal struggles. “I listened to the song Crack on repeat—it brought me to tears. Growing up in the crack era was painful. The PTSD I endured is now a powerful source of inspiration.” This raw emotional backdrop adds an edge to Crack Rock’s themes of love and human relationships—what Mills calls “cold love”: alluring, grand, yet ultimately destructive. Like an addiction, you keep coming back for more.
This idea of addiction shapes the duo’s sonic exploration—beneath the catchy melodies lie deeper, pain-laden themes wrapped in metaphor. “I see this album as therapy, a testament to the magic we create in the studio,” says Pędziwiatr. “Our process is a mix of musical mastery and deep conversations about life. For me, it feels like soul cleansing.

The internationally renowned double bassist and composer Dieter Ilg
releases his new work, 'Motherland'
As the album cover - featuring Ilg wearing a traditional Black Forest Bollenhut -
suggests, this project reflects his deep connection to his homeland and to Mother
Earth. Ilg is supported by his trio, as well as the master trumpeter Till Bronner, whose
trumpet and flugelhorn lend the compositions a unique atmosphere.
Having collaborated with numerous musicians such as Randy Brecker, Mike Stern,
Vince Mendoza, and many others, Dieter Ilg has released 25 albums as a leader or coleader, along with a series of recordings as a sideman. On 'Motherland', he reunites
with his long- standing trio, featuring German pianist Rainer Bohm and French
drummer Patrice Heral. This time, alongside their original works, they reinterpret two
classical pieces: Ilg's adaptation of Handel's "Minuet" from Water Music and his
rendition of "Glorious" from Alexander's Feast. For 16 years, Ilg, Bohm, and Heral have
journeyed together musically. The secret to their chemistry, according to Ilg, lies in
their openness to letting things unfold in the moment.
'Motherland' is both an homage to Ilg's roots and a reflection of the music and
experiences that have shaped the bassist, who hails from Offenburg in Germany's
Black Forest region. A standout track is "Schwarzwaldfahrt", in which Ilg transforms
the lighthearted melody of German pianist Horst Jankowski into a nostalgic
interpretation with an authentic second- line groove. Till Bronner delivers a stunning
trumpet solo on this piece, with Ilg commenting, "When Till plays, I know exactly
where we're headed. I can hear the path he's focusing on."
The album unfolds with remarkable diversity, ranging from harmonious, soothing
sounds to tender, fragile bass solos, rubato piano passages, and intricate stop-time
sequences. 'Motherland' is a work of profound depth, celebrating Ilg's heritage while
offering listeners an evocative and multifaceted musical journey.

For his next Token EP, Kr!z delivers squelchy synth sequences over robust kicks, reinforcing his no-nonsense approach to club music. Classic in its conception yet psychotic in effect, Ipso Facto is a record built for powerful sound systems during thenight's most delirious moments.



First impressions are important; the Belgian producer has never been one to waste time, and this record is no exception. What you hear is what you get-an anxiously slithering synth line makes his intentions clear in Defeat the Purpose, driving people to the dancefloor. Dry drum machine work thunders throughout, locking in the Token style with precision. Moving into the next track, 'Chrome Dust' focuses more on the tonal side of things and its irresistible groovemakes it an instant ear catcher. Playful rides and snares shape the progression, with Kr!z swapping percussion elements to keep the movement lively.
The title track is a true hip swinger on the B1 as he reaches in the low end of the synth sequence to establish a very compelling rhythm. Everything in its right place, and not a hair more, the percussion transitions are reminiscent of his 4 channel DJ sets, the energy always being on the move. Equilibrium closes the EP with high energy, opening up filters over a reliably bouncy rhythm. Years of experience behind the decks can be very instructive for a perceptive producer, and Kr!z proves us just that in this track and in the whole EP.

T. Gowdy returns with a major statement and luminous stylistic expansion on his third album for Constellation. Trill Scan is an exquisite suite of songs literally and figuratively about alchemy, where Gowdy melds his background in choral and medieval music with his trademark analogue electronics. Following the acclaimed Miracles (Bleep Album of the Week / Albums of the Year 2022), Gowdy's bar-raising new LP centers human voice for the first time. Choral set-pieces and solo lead vocals, along with his own lute playing, are novel elements in Gowdy's work, and draw on strains of Middle Ages polyphony and the Baroque "broken style" to further distinguish Trill Scan from anything in his discography to date. Gowdy sees "the modal language of medieval Europe as a less distant cousin to indigenous traditional music practice" compared to a Classical-colonial "patriarchal order of tonality that honours a system of domination." The 12th century Notre Dame School of choral music and 17th century style brisé each carry tonal materiality, heterodox technique, and cultural-historical symbolism central to Trill Scan's conceptual and compositional alchemy. Gowdy coheres these beautifully into his palette of serpentine slowburn electronics, a minimal analogue-driven techno shaped by aleatory strategies and tinged with post-punk grit. Gowdy's sound has been aptly described as "gently transportative, flickering like a busted halogen lamp" and his overriding pursuit of psychoacoustic immanence likened to "getting your brain massaged" and praised as "blissful work that bristles with effervescent energy, like brain waves coming in and out of focus." Trill Scan expands this sonic sensibility with more conspicuous harmonic complexity, stylistic variety, and humanistic narrative arc. Alternately sacramental and intimately personal vocals, sometimes wordless and sometimes lyrical, are worked into superlative instrumental tracks, yielding a warmly immersive concept album that's equally Gowdy's most musical. Gowdy sings explicitly of alchemy on the hypnotic album centerpiece "Novus Lumen" with lyrics that gesture at these medieval processes of material investigation. The tension between the scientific and esoteric is crucial; the separation and synthesis of physical substances in medieval alchemy maps onto his fixation with the interplay between the materiality of sound and psychoacoustics. Gowdy follows the Jungian interpretation of classic alchemical texts as an historical bridge to theories of the psyche, where consciousness itself is treated as materiality and similarly subjected to methodical analysis and experimentation, to deconstruction, dissolution, transformation, reintegration, metamorphosis. Song titles like "Arislei Bone" and "Materiadiscipuli" further reference these mythopoetic throughlines from medieval alchemy to modern psychology. Gowdy chooses disruptive forms from the history of Western music that symbolize and prefigure the modern psychological subject and its struggle for/against order, even as they also evoke liturgy and the Renaissance court. The sacramental adds a potent dimension to his pursuit of psychoacoustic activation, meditation, and transcendence, as choral passages intersperse with electronic drone and pointillism throughout the album. His gorgeous Fennesz-meets-lute rendition of the Baroque composition "Courante" by François Dufault offers idiomatic salon-secular counterpoint. Album closer "Strewn" is bookended by a final recurrence of choral invocation, with pulsing earworm motorik techno in between, over which Gowdy whisper-sings a dreamlike vision quest of mythic-alchemical imagery: "as I washed my eyes they turned to metal / and the memories melted to the metal / the metal of my heart." A mesmerizing final song that explicitly invokes Gowdy's search for materialized abstraction and substantive musical immanence wrought from his own psycho-therapeutic subjectivity, and encapsulates the album's turn towards more harmonic, historicized, and humanistic elements. Trill Scan commingles empyrean and earthly electronic songcraft to genuinely original and absorbing effect. Thanks for listening. RIYL: Coil, Nicolás Jaar, Alessandro Cortini, Pantha Du Prince, Fennesz, Visible Cloaks, Actress,

Joni Void, the artistic persona of Montréal-based French-British producer Jean Néant (he/them) returns to songcraft on their warmest and most welcoming record yet, where the acclaimed sampledelic sound collagist chills out with an emotionally resonant song cycle tinged by downtempo, lo-fi, avant-pop, and trip-hop. Guests include Haco, Ytamo, Sook-Yin Lee, Pink Navel and N NAO. Every Life Is A Light expands on Void's recent stylistic turn towards more languorous and mellow lo-fi production, foreshadowed by the drifting looseness and ambient bricolage of their preceding experimental sound-art record. This transitional sensibility now shapes more defined song structures and styles, with loops are given time and space to unspool, and rhythms shot through the softer-focus lens of trip-hop and dub. Every Life Is A Light swaps the twitchy insistence of Void's acclaimed early albums for a newfound lightness and suppleness, still imbued with all the restlessness, sonic detailing, and emotional resonance that made their name. The neurotic brokenmachine kinetics of earlier Void, summarized by Sasha Geffen as "drawing despair and wonder from within the vast unfeeling of digital communication" in an 8.0 Pitchfork review, may be chilling out, but Void is becoming an ever better conjurer of hauntological feeling. Every Life Is A Light summons this in a comparatively buoyant, benevolent, head-nodding journey more open to tenderness and modest joys. Perhaps it's the sound of Void at greater peace with themselves and the world, despite the bittersweet cost: even as it channels grief, memorializing comrades and companions recently deceased, this album wants light. Void's raw materials continue to draw heavily from samples (their own Walkman cassette fieldrecordings and songs by others) and from a wide community of musical guests. Vocalists Haco on "Time Zone" and Ytamo on "Cloud Level" help levitate what could be lost tracks from a mid-90s Too Pure Records compilation of skewed-lounge electronica. Canadian musician Sook-Yin Lee sings on lead single "Vertigo," a sinewy 80bpm tape-loop and bassline groove propelled by psychedelically-layered lyrics that eventually turn the song in on itself entirely, like Grace Jones' "Nightclubbing" covered by Animal Collective. One of Void's greatest hip-hop loves is the Ruby Yacht collective; charter member Pink Navel drops some brilliant verses on "Story Board." The album's two minimal tracks, an extended piano loop set to a slow beat and shimmering electronics on "Muffin-A Song For My Cat" and the languid sampled bass riff and breakbeat of "Event Flow," are perhaps most overtly `lofi chill.' Indeed the whole album could be said to sit adjacent to those viral (if not already AI-generated) genre trends, which maybe begs the question on a lot of our minds: can specificity and authenticity of musical materials still be heard, still meaningfully signify substance and difference, still matter? Perhaps a question that fades in comparison to the career break Void could catch by landing on generic streaming playlists. More likely, these tracks remain too off-kilter, too genuinely lo-fi and ineffable, and too disqualified by the status of its peasant rights-holders, to catch the algos. Context remains the poor cousin of content. Meanwhile Void marches on, as a tireless organizer of local music events, bouncing around and often living in DIY venue, depending on the latest apartment eviction. With an ubiquitous polaroid camera in tow, they also document each communal happening with a single shot (and often a blinding flash bulb): a memory and metaphor for lives illuminated preciously, singularly, `imperfectly' in the moment. Dozens of these polaroids adorn the album's back cover and inner sleeve art in grid-like montages, as a fitting analog for the careful construction, grainy intimate materiality, and ephemeral feeling of these songs. Every Life Is A Light is Joni Void's most coherent and congenial record while relinquishing none of their experimentalist acumen as a producer or emotional attunement as a composer. Instead these qualities flourish, on an album that lights a humble flame for the fragile promise of homespun creative collaboration as unalienated labour and therapeutic communion, making an enchantingly idiosyncratic contribution to downtempo sample music along the way. Thanks for listening.