Cerca:shapes

David Hanke is best known for his long-standing work as Renegades Of Jazz, as well as recent incarnations Dem Juju Poets and his exotic outfit Mankoora. The versatile producer and DJ returned to his blissful electronic roots with his latest project Keno earlier in 2018, released on the Agogo imprint.

Daviddelivers two sides of what he calls Krauthaus for Shapes of Rhythm. Kugelkreisis a mathematical word. Kugel in German means a ball/sphere and Kreis means circle. One is 2D and one is 3D.

The music is as intriguing as the terminology: long, psychedelic, deep and textured house music, suitable for those late night DJ sets or after parties.

On side A, Der Kugelkreis, spaced-out melodies mix with playful yet purposeful bass to create an ethereal atmosphere. It's got groove from the get-go. Tribal Afro-infused drum sounds propel it forward and, as such, Hanke is happy to tease us for almost three minutes before introducing the rest of his rhythm section. Drowsy horns float in a little later, adding another layer to the dreamy aesthetics.

The B side Permutation is also a long, deep excursion and features layered Fender Rhodes behind chopped, stabby vocals, before thunderous percussion chisels right through the middle of it all.

Available on limited-release vinyl 12" with fully printed outer sleeve, and digital

Produced by Jenn Wasner of Wye Oak. LP is on coloured coke bottle green vinyl + inclues download code and 12x12' lyric sheet/ liner note insert.

Madeline will be on tour throughout the UK and Europe this Autumn.

'Building from understated beauty to dense guitar theatrics. It reminds me of Chicago circa '93 as remembered in a dream — a little bit of Liz Phair 'Exile In Guyville' - rendered in soft-focus with the graceful confidence of a young master. ' STEREOGUM

In January of 2018, five months after the release of her debut album Night Night at the First Landing, Madeline Kenney traveled from Oakland, California to the woods outside of Durham, North Carolina to record her sophomore album with a new collaborator, Wye Oak's Jenn Wasner.

The choice was a conscious decision to explore new methodology in writing, recording, production and even genre. Perfect Shapes sees Kenney leaping headfirst into fresh and adventurous territory, largely eschewing conventional rock structures in favor of theme and melody. Its ten songs are full of surprises big and small - from vibrant synth lines to taut bass figures and subtly modulated vocals - that instead of feeling fussed over, reveal Kenney's penchant for elegant and abstract composition.

Kenney's 2017 debut, Night Night at the First Landing, was a guitar-centric rock album, produced by friend and collaborator Chaz Bear of Toro Y Moi, Perfect Shapes leans on the foundational pieces of Night Night - fuzzed-out guitar tones, coy wordplay and Kenney's notably strong voice - but with an unconventional approach that allows them to bloom, reincarnated. Perfect Shapes marks Wasner's first foray into producing another artist's work and is permeated by the pair's collaborative spirit. Both Wasner and Kenney play multiple instruments on the record, and engineered the session alongside Kenney's touring percussionist, Camille Lewis.

An eagerness to explore and experiment is apparent from start to finish, as Kenney and Wasner weave endless sonic curve balls into the arrangements. From the delightfully warped percussion on opening track 'Overhead' to the burbling synths on the R&B-tinted 'The Flavor of the Fruit Tree' and the left-field trumpet solo in 'Your Art,' these rich and inventive ideas echo Yo La Tengo's everything-but-the-kitchen-sink mentality, as well as the surging soundscapes of Tame Impala and Wye Oak at their most impressionistic. Lead single "Cut Me Off" is a surprise of its own - the most pop-forward song Kenney has written yet. 'Bad Idea,' finds her balancing fragility as foil; later, 'I Went Home' manages to evoke both frustration and affection in a single breath.

The complex and open-ended questions that lay at the core of Perfect Shapes mark Kenney's arrival into a hard-hitting reflective space: How do you love another when it hurts to do so What is the physical limit to which one can carry the emotions of others How does a modern female artist reckon with the expectations demanded of her femininity Yet for all the notes of doubt and fear that Kenney raises, she delivers each song with confidence and poise, grounded by the pointedly laid and surging soundscape.

Kenney has always had a penchant for curiosity and experimentation. Raised in the Pacific Northwest, she began studying classical piano and dance in kindergarten, and grew to believe her future lay in modern dance choreography. Not one to be tied to a singular pursuit, however, Kenney took a hard left in college, studying Interpersonal Neurobiology and supporting herself with a career in baking. Music remained a constant however, and after moving to the Bay Area in 2013, Kenney quickly found footing in the supportive arts community in Oakland. There, she met and began collaborating with Chaz Bear (Toro Y Moi), which led to the production of her Signals EP and later her debut album, Night Night at the First Landing. Both releases were received with great critical acclaim, and saw Kenney exploring the sounds within her self-proclaimed twang-haze genre, defined by cathartic fuzz breakdowns and lyrical sensitivity.

Expectedly powerful three tracker from the Belgian Sons of Tiki who are slowly shifting their sound to a little more subtle but yet driving direction.

PLEASURE ZONE proudly presents the second release by Silat Beksi! Gravity EP 2 is another outstanding production by the young Ukrainian producer. More to come - stay tuned!

When we started Ilian Tape 10 years ago in 2007, we were both basically kids at the ages of 23 (Dario) and 18 (Marco). There was no plan behind it, no concept, no promotion campaign or any budget, but just an early vision of where it could go. We wanted to build something that lasts. After a few years of playing at parties and producing music, it was the next logical step to start a label. You can clearly see us growing up through the label in terms of artwork, compiling the records and handling things. We made some mistakes along the way and there are surely things we could have done better, but looking back after 10 years now it all makes sense as it was a natural and human development with all its ups and downs.It was always a very personal project, never about making money, but about creating a platform for music we believe in and building relationships with artists in a transparent and fair way. We really appreciate that we were able to work with so many great artists, who shared the same vision and trusted in us, over all the years. A while ago we moved away from the ordinary release info write ups, because in general writing about music is tricky and who isn't tired of the typical, full of praise for every detail of a record, release textsBut this might be starting to get boring for you too, so just buy this lovely triple vinyl package including a poster and download code, light one up and turn up the volume!One last thing though - we want to deeply thank our parents for teaching us to live our dreams and find out who we really are, our friends for the vibes and honesty, all the artists releasing on the label, all the supporters & fans for buying vinyl and files, all the DJ's playing out the stuff, all the diggers selling the stuff overpriced on Discogs, all the dancers working out on the dancefloors & all the clubs doing label nights over all the years.

Eno Williams, frontwoman of Ibibio Sound Machine, uses both English and the Nigerian language from which her band's name is derived for the dazzling new album Doko Mien. Long lauded for jubilant, explosive live shows, Ibibio Sound Machine fully capture that energy on Doko Mien, the followup to their Merge debut Uyai.
In a glowing piece in the New York Times, those songs were praised for following 'in the tradition of much African music, [making] themselves the conscience of a community.' By pulsing the mystic shapes of Williams' lines through further inventive, glittering collages of genre, Ibibio Sound Machine crack apart the horizon separating cultures, between nature and technology, between joy and pain, between tradition and future. That propensity for duality and paradox seems common in people whose lives span continents.

Williams was born in the UK, but grew up in Nigeria, always steeped in her family heritage. She obsessed over West African electronic music, highlife, and the like, but was equally empowered by Western genres such as post-punk, disco, and funk. The London octet have enveloped themselves in that maximalist quilt proudly since their 2013 formation. Though it can often bring with it news of stress and uncertainty, the modern world further brings all these disparate traditions into connection.
'Everyone has everything now,' says multi-instrumentalist Max Grunhard. 'Everyone has immediate access to every genre, picking things up from everywhere—like magpies.' And while they haven't suddenly left their African roots behind, Doko Mien does find increased representation of English lyrics in the ratio. By sharing more directly with more universal lyrics, the record feels more anthemic, reaching for grander heights.
'We wanted to give people a reason to sing along, to find their soundtrack every day,' Williams says. 'We wanted everyone to feel as if they're part of the music as well.'

Late album highlight 'Guess We Found a Way' addresses the change with a coy smile. 'Guess we found a way to speak to you/ Guess we found a way to say what's true/ To say what's real,' Williams coos over glistening chains of reverberant synth and diamond dust percussion, before returning to Ibibio in the chorus. Perhaps the best example of the group's ability to convey meaning across language and tradition, to blend past and future into a singular present comes on 'She Work Very Hard'. The traditional Ibibio folk tale bobs over the waves of tuned percussion, chunky synth, and pinprick highlife-esque guitar, while Jose Joyette's drums and Derrick McIntyre's bass funk groove bring everyone to the dance floor. 'These stories won't be forgotten. Feel the music: it speaks to everybody,' Williams says. 'We can travel back in time together, while convening on a futuristic, present tense. We hope that we can give people that reason to wake up, that one song to sing and dance and be happy.'

Doko Mien: Tell me everything. On their new album, Ibibio Sound Machine provide the perfect companion, ready to digest as much as possible and then further unfurl beauty and hope. They remember and honor the past and charge forward toward the future, all while intensely expanding the present.

Welcoming prolific and essential Mexican artist Andy Martin to Animalia, with his mesmerising, mind-bending musical interpretation of the Nahual, a common & integral figure of the belief systems of ancient Indigenous peoples of the Americas, which embodies the spiritual connection between humans & animals. In some traditional stories, this connection is so strong that they are said to transform into one of them. Tierra de Nahuales refers to a region of ancient America inhabited by these mythological beings, which in this EP become part of the Animalia universe, shaped by psychedelic broken rhythms, tribal sounds, and dub influences. A release that feels both deeply personal to Andy's musical & cultural identity as well as the label's own - a telling ode to the abilities of the depth & outer worldly sense to his music - a world-building, shapeshifting & one of a kind artist who feels truly at home in the Animalia family.

NEW IDEA SOCIETY signs to Relapse and offers their new album, Fire on the Hill. The band has taken on differing shapes and forms over the years, but at its heart is the duo of Mike Law (Wild Arrows) and Stephen Brodsky (Cave In, Mutoid Man), a pair enraptured and united by the alchemical power of songwriting. With a connection that can be traced back to their high school years, between them exists an intuitive understanding that informs exactly what NEW IDEA SOCIETY is at any given point. Although the pair have come a long way since their earliest explorations in audio in the late 90s, the roots of their alliance were forged in those makeshift basement studios. For Fire On The Hill, Law and Brodsky took a more collaborative approach to songwriting than on previous releases. With Brodsky describing their process as “microscopic” and Law marveling at the particulars of the minutiae they pored over, the attention to detail and their meticulous approach to making adjustments in service of the work shines through in the cohesiveness of this collection of songs. With demos passed back and forth over months - Brodsky sending them in the early morning, and Law taking the evening shift - the songs evolved naturally; refining a chord progression, adapting a lyrical perspective, or in the case of the track Lantern, rewriting the words entirely. Thematically the album is about love, in its many forms. With each track detailing some element of navigating emotional relationships - the beauty, the pain, the loss and the hope - the duo have captured the immediacy and urgency of such feelings, tempered by a sliver of yearning that stops short of tipping into nostalgia. Now with years of experience to their names, alongside a developed vocabulary and extended sonic palette to draw from, they have created something specifically and idiosyncratically NEW IDEA SOCIETY. Fire On The Hill is them in full flight, at the height of their powers. Short: NEW IDEA SOCIETY signs to Relapse and offers their new album, Fire on the Hill. The band has taken on differing shapes and forms over the years, but at its heart is the duo of Mike Law (Wild Arrows) and Stephen Brodsky (Cave In, Mutoid Man), a pair enraptured and united by the alchemical power of songwriting. FFO: CAVE IN, MUTOID MAN, EMMA RUTH RUNDLE, HARVESTMAN, BIG BRAVE, CRIPPLED BLACK PHOENIX, JESU

REPRESS ON SILVER VINYL . COMES WITH 24”x24” POSTER + DOWNLOAD CARD + GATEFOLD JACKET.


On The Beths’ album Expert In A Dying Field, Elizabeth Stokes’ songwriting positions her somewhere between being a novelist and a documentarian. The songs collected here are autobiographical, but they’re also character sketches of relationships – platonic, familial, romantic – and more importantly, their aftermaths. The shapes and ghosts left in absences. The question that hangs in the air: what do you do with how intimately versed you’ve become in a person, once they’re gone from your life?

The third LP from the New Zealand quartet houses 12 jewels of tight, guitar-heavy songs that worm their way into your head, an incandescent collision of power-pop and skuzz. With Expert, The Beths wanted to make an album meant to be experienced live, for both the listeners and themselves. They wanted it to be fun -- to hear, to play -- in spite of the prickling anxiety throughout the lyrics, the fear of change and struggle to cope.

Most of Expert was recorded at guitarist Jonathan Pearce’s studio on Karangahape Road in Tāmaki Makaurau, Aotearoa (Auckland, New Zealand) -- and sometimes in the building's cavernous stairwell at 1am -- toward the end of 2021, until they were interrupted by a four-month national lockdown. They traded notes remotely for months, songwriting from afar and fleshing out the arrangements alone, the first time they’d written together in such a way. The following February, The Beths left the country for the first time in more than two years to tour across the US, and simultaneously finish mixing the album on the road. That latter half felt more collaborative, with everyone on-hand to trade notes in real time, until it all culminated in a chaotic three-day studio mad-dash in Los Angeles. There, Expert finally became the record they were hearing in their heads.

Expert is an extension of the same skuzzy palette the band has built across their catalog, pop hooks embedded in incisive indie rock. The album’s title track “Expert In A Dying Field” introduces the thesis for the record: “How does it feel to be an expert in a dying field? How do you know it’s over when you can’t let go?” Stokes asks. “Love is learned over time ‘til you’re an expert in a dying field.”

The rest is a capsule of The Beths’ most electrifying and exciting output, a sonic spectrum: “Your Side” is a forlorn and sincere love song, emotive; while “Silence is Golden,” with its propulsive drum line and stop-start staccato of a guitar line winding up and down, is one of the band’s sharpest and most driving. “When You Know You Know” skews a bit groovier, pure pop and a natural addition to the band’s live set. “Knees Deep” was written last minute, but yields one of the best guitar lines on Expert. There’s a certain chaos across the 12 tracks, the palpable joy of playing music with long-time friends colliding with the raw nerves of pain.

Stokes strings it all together through her singular songwriting lens, earnest and self-effacing, zeroing in on the granules of doubt and how they snowball. Did I do the wrong thing? Or did you? And are we still good people at the end of it? She isn’t interested in villains, but instead interested in just telling the story. That insecurity and thoughtfulness, translated into universality and understanding, has been the guiding light of The Beths’ output since 2016. In the face of pain, there’s no dwelling on internal anguish - instead, through The Beths’ music, our shortcomings are met with acceptance. And Expert In A Dying Field is the most tactile that tenderness has been.

Convergence is an ambient album formed through a series of morning rituals during rehabilitation following a severe medical event and an extended hospital stay. After weeks immersed in the constant alarms, beeps, and environmental signals of medical equipment, the act of listening itself became recalibrated. The music was performed and assembled using glass marimba, flute, and analog synthesizers, with each instrument treated as a source of resonance and gradually dissected through spectral analysis—allowing melody to emerge from fragments through repetition, attention, and daily practice, where synthesis functions not as traditional composition but as an exchange of signals.


Working slowly and intuitively, Stardust Multiplier approaches sound as a communicative medium between humans, the natural environment, and non-ordinary states of perception. Motifs evolve through repetition and subtle variation, informed by ceremonial music, mythic structures, and speculative communication frameworks associated with non-human intelligence—not as narrative devices, but as metaphors for attuned listening and pattern recognition.

Rather than moving toward resolution, Convergence documents moments of alignment—instances where intention, system, and environment briefly synchronize. The result is a restrained, deeply focused record, less concerned with atmosphere than attention, where synthesis functions as both a grounding practice and a method of inquiry.

After releasing two albums with the UK label Rocket Recordings, the Italian psych band Julie"s Haircut now release the new album on its own Label Superlove. With a title taking inspiration from the I Ching book of divination, and a six piece lineup introducing new singer and songwriter Anna Bassy joining the consolidated team formed by Nicola Caleffi, Luca Giovanardi, Andrea Rovacchi, Andrea Scarfone and Ulisse Tramalloni, Radiance Opposition collates an eight tracks cycle that generates a consistent yet multifaceted musical journey, combining psychedelia, electronica and polyrhythms - all blended together thanks to a syncretic vision juxtaposing apparently irreconcilable factors. None of this is more evident, perhaps, than in the opener "I Can See The Light", with its sudden yet flowing shift from a dark pulsating preamble to an invigorating, hypnotic coda; or in the transition from the stoner-drenched heavy chthonic blues of "Extinction Of The Sun" to the liquid nocturnal moods of closing piece "6AM Carpet Candlelight". But it is the whole record that finds a rare balance, with tracks melting deep atmospheres and summoning vocals, synth-driven shapes and dynamic cadences, noise textures and evoking chants - all of them making the album a cohesively transformative experience. Nestled in a visual frame by contemporary artist Zoë Croggon suggesting an aura of ritualistic tension and mystique, Radiance Opposition sets Julie"s Haircut in a renovated form, at once rooted in their history and rushed to a creative renascence.

NOSUCHKEY makes a bold debut on the Art of Memory label with a deadly four track EP of masterfully reduced but stylish and evocative minimal techno. NOSUCHKEY is actually a side project from Nico Purman. He served up the first two releases on the label and this new alias is focused on straight forward techno. Over more than a decade Purman has established himself on Vakant, Crosstown Rebels and Curle, and now heads in an exciting new direction designed to make a huge impact on the floor. Opener 'Stages' is post minimal techno with a focus on mind melting melodic riffs that ripple over the rooted drums. It is sci-fi in style with a hint of Detroit greats like Jeff Mills and really takes you into the future. The excellent 'FMFMFM' is another fluid bit of deep techno that is wired up with languid synths constantly wrapping and warping round the drums. Keeping up the pressure is 'Lunch', with a stripped back but impactful techno style built on rubbery kicks and with modulated synth lines constantly shapeshifting throughout the mix. Direct but dynamic, it is excellently timeless techno that leads on to closer 'ACD RDFN'. There is urgency, paranoia and cyber tension in this one that really keeps you locked as it journeys deep into a blackened yet cinematic cosmic abyss. NOSUCHKEY is a false address, a lack of a word, a character or sign that makes a whole code unable to find its final path: The Specified Key does not exist.

Kassie Krut is comprised of Kasra Kurt and Eve Alpert — former members of Philadelphia math rock institution Palm — alongside Matt Anderegg (Mothers, Body Meat). On their self-titled debut EP, the newly minted Brooklyn three-piece have retained the fangled snarl of their prior work, outlining sugary melodies with visceral flourishes. Front to back, 'Kassie Krut' smudges starkness & filth, settling into a commanding partnership fit for muddy raves, basement punk spaces, and festival stages alike.

After years of twisting rock instrumentation into unknown shapes, the first release by Kassie Krut represents a transformative refocusing of energies. These tracks evince the kind of wisdom that only comes from experience—and the kind of experience that can only be scored by new sounds, still glittering with the metal filings of their making

DJ Himitsu is a Tokyo-born, London-based producer and DJ, known for his understated approach and deep knowledge of Japanese vinyl and book culture. Following a debut EP of acid house on Australian imprint Lunatic Music in 2023, 'Exotic Animals' marks a new waypoint in Himitsu's artistic evolution.

On this debut full length, driving 303 basslines and kickdrums are traded in for obscure recordings and convoluted samples, which spiral and fuse to form shuffling, heady new compositions. Like shattered pottery reassembled into top-heavy sculptures with golden glue, 'Exotic Animals' shapes and juxtaposes opposing forms and fragments, with lolloping aplomb.

When not producing, DJ Himistu runs Caravan - a vintage Japanese record, ceramics and bookshop in London. It's with the same warmth, care and curiosity that he arranges his findings in the plunderous grotto of 'Exotic Animals'. In this way, stepping inside this work is like entering a remote trading post of instruments, memoirs and other sonic curios - as Himitsu stands patiently at the counter.

Recommended for fans of Jon Hassell, Giovanni Venosta, Discrepant.

“Bâzsâzi” sees the group rearranging their oeuvre for the dancefloor, starting with a raw excerpt of Zolfonoon, taken from their first ever show in August 2023, before they had a name. Caleb dons his Wavemap alias to rework it into a tunnelling, heads-down groover, in the lineage of Mike Dehnert and Luke Hess. Raf Reza (as Raf Rizzla) sends Parisa shapeshifting through the hardcore continuum with a nod to UK Drill, in continuation from his recent debut Ekbar Telephone Explosion. Jason (as Neonlichter) turns Delkash into a jungle montage – all mutant bass and vocal tessellations.

‘Confession' is an album of quiet upheaval. An album about closeness that arrives late and unexpectedly. About stability rubbing up against desire. About the way friendship can suddenly tilt into something charged — and how that charge unsettles everything around it. Where earlier work often observed from a distance, Confession turns inward. The voice is closer, warmer, less shielded. “This wasn’t the album I intended to make,” says Carla dal Forno. “I originally wanted something veiled and abstract, but I realised I couldn’t hide behind abstraction — the songs only worked when I leaned into emotional truth.”

This is dal Forno’s fourth LP, written and recorded over several years in a small country town, in a studio housed inside a partially abandoned hospital. Long corridors, humming lights, emptied rooms — a place built for care and waiting, now quiet enough for thoughts to echo. That stillness shapes the record: intimate, watchful, unadorned. “I live in a small country town that offers a stillness my life didn’t previously have,” she explains. “In that quiet, feelings I might’ve ignored in a busy city grew loud.” Dal Forno sings plainly and conversationally, with an emotional precision that sharpens the everyday into something quietly unsettling.

The album moves through paired states: going out and staying in, wanting and withholding, devotion and distraction. Domestic calm set against private unrest. A long-held relationship offers safety and routine, while a newer connection opens emotional fault lines — longing, jealousy, fantasy, self-exposure. “At the heart of the album is a friendship that became emotionally charged in an unexpected way,” dal Forno says. “That shift brought daydreaming, jealousy, tenderness, confusion, self-awareness — and eventually acceptance.”

The drama here is internal, incremental, lived. Musically, Confession feels lighter on its feet than its subject matter suggests. Melodic basslines anchor the songs while guitars, harmonies, and gently off-kilter rhythms move around them. There’s a looseness, even a playfulness — “like the sensation of tension lifting once you finally admit something to yourself,” as dal Forno puts it. The album traces a subtle arc: attraction blooming where it shouldn’t; obsession quietly taking hold; fantasy overtaking reality; clarity arriving slowly, sometimes painfully. Visually and emotionally, Confession returns to modest spaces: backyards, beds, night streets, overgrown paths. “The record exists in that contrast,” dal Forno reflects. “Peaceful surroundings, unsettled interior.”

Like all of dal Forno’s work, Confession resists clean conclusions. It doesn’t moralise desire or romanticise restraint. Instead, it lingers in the in-between — where love is stable but not total, where yearning teaches as much as it hurts, where solitude becomes a form of care. Plain-spoken but emotionally complex. Rooted and restless. Held together by bass, breath, routine, weather. An album about admitting what you feel —and living with what that admission changes.

Born in Madrid and now entrenched deep in Boston's underground, Ketzaal operates at the darker more, textural end of the techno spectrum. He shows off that signature again here with a tightly wound four-tracker. Opener 'Placed Upon Thee' lands with great tension, all driving stabs and forward thrust, while 'Final Ritual' dips into a rolling, bass-heavy stride that loosens the grip without losing pace. On the flip, 'The Throne' locks into a head-down groove before 'In Bloom' stretches into something more elusive and shapeshifting. Purposeful construction and a clear sense of function don't mean there isn't plenty of character in these dance floor bombs.

The fifth release on Objekt’s Kapsela imprint is (re)weave, an EP of crystalline club tracks from Detroit-born, London-based producer Tristan Arp.

(re)weave was written during a prolonged period of flux for the artist. “When I started making this record, my life and the world felt like a maze,” he recounts. As he routed and re-routed through past and future homes – Mexico to New York to Detroit to Mexico and finally to London – his output bore the marks of this repeated uprooting. “I was thinking about making music that reflected these twists and turns, and the knotty pathways through them. I was also re-reading Borges around this time, which must have influenced my interest in labyrinths.”

Accordingly, the EP is a mycelial puzzle, a tangle of spidery, undulating ostinatos and earthy percussion, stitched through with syncopated kicks. Employing the sounds of multitudinous critters and kin – whales, insects, thunder, water, forests – the arrangements sum to a sentient mesh of organic matter, the compositions living and breathing like earthly beings. Kaleidoscopic tendrils explore in every direction but are always underpinned by a driving, percussive backbone. It’s not easily classifiable: it’s bass-driven, but to simply call it “bass music” would sell it short.

In keeping with the winding geographical paths traced over the EP’s creation, (re)weave saw Tristan Arp revisiting and reinterpreting unfinished sessions and incorporating them into newer ideas. Rhythms and sounds have been transplanted and self-recycled from previous projects and woven into the fabric of the record. In this way, (re)weave also describes a looping back over time, a recalibration of the self from past to present through interlocking rhythms, channeling and communing with versions of oneself from times gone by.

The closing track, Wish Server, slows the EP to walking pace and hints at tentatively emerging from the deepest jungle into a delicate, innocent light. Tristan Arp imagines it as a dialog with a baby-self. “Some of my earliest memories are of sitting at my mother’s loom,” he offers. “The sequence of these tracks traces these feelings and follows the thread back to the primordial soup… through mazes… to a feeling of levitation.”

DJ Support: DJ Spen, Honey Dijon, Tedd Patterson, Mousse T, Terry Hunter, The Shapeshifters, Groovy P and more

I Feel The Love" is a vibrant 4-track EP from the Serbian duo Mirko & Meex, Known for their high-energy blend of funky house and nu-disco, the duo delivers a cohesive package designed for peak-time dancefloors. Expect heavy, driving basslines paired with shimmering disco strings and infectious vocal loops that lean into the classic "Groove Culture" sound championed by label heads Micky More & Andy Tee. Each track is built for utility, featuring extended arrangements that allow DJs to bridge the gap between soulful house and more aggressive disco-house sets. The EP oscillates between sun-drenched daytime energy and sweatier, club-focused grooves, cementing the duo's reputation for "feel-good" house music.

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."