Buscar:shards

Celebrating thirty years of collaboration, Loren Connors and Alan Licht performed for two nights at OTO on May 5 and 6th, 2023. The shows celebrated a new release titled “At The Top of the Stairs”; a document of the pair's reunion in 2018 after a period of 8 years not playing together. It’s a dark, swirling two-sided spectral noir session, put out by the duo’s home label, Family Vineyard, and we expected a similar kind of atonal abyss to appear at the OTO residency. On the second night however, with the stage lit in blue, Connors took up a seat on the piano stool whilst Licht picked up the guitar. What followed was the duo’s first ever set with Connors on piano - one of only a few times Connors has played piano live at all - here captured and issued as The Blue Hour. Its spacious warmth came as a total surprise live, but makes complete sense for a duo whose dedicated expressionism takes inspiration from a vast spectrum of emotion. Both opening with single notes to start, it doesn't take long before a surface rises and begins to shimmer between the pair. A run up the keys, the drop of a feedback layer on a sustained and bent note. When the two begin to exchange notes in tandem, brief touches of melody and chord hover and the hush of the room is palpapale. After a while, Connors picks up the guitar, stands it in his lap and sweeps a wash of colour across Licht’s melody. Sharp, glassy edges begin to form, open strings and barred frets darkening the space. When his two pedals begin to merge, Licht finds a dramatic organ-like feedback and it’s hard not to imagine Rothko’s Chapel, its varying shades of blue black ascending and descending in the room. When Connors goes back to the piano for the second side, the pair quickly lock into a refrain and light pours in. It’s a kind of sound that Licht says reminds him of what he and Connors would do when the duo first started playing together 30 years ago. It’s certainly more melodic than some of their more recent shows, and the atonal shards of At The Top of the Stairs seem to totally dissolve. What is always remarkable about Licht is that his enormous frame of reference doesn't seem to weigh him down, and instead here he is able to delicately place fractures of a Jackson C Frank song (“Just Like Anything”,) amongst the vast sea of Connors’ blues. Perhaps it's the pleasure of playing two nights in a row together, or the nature of Connor’s piano playing combined with Licht’s careful listening, but the improvisation on The Blue Hour feels remarkably calm and unafraid. There’s nothing to prove and no agenda except the joy of sounding colour together. Totally beautiful.

29 Speedway is a record label and performance series based in Brooklyn, NY featuring forward-thinking improvisational music and live multimedia. Founded in 2020 by Ben Shirken a.k.a. Ex Wiish (‘Shards Of Axel’, Incienso 2023), 29S serves as a platform for artists exploring the fringes of interdisciplinary art and music. Hosting D.I.Y-guerrilla style sound and performance art concerts at Pioneer Works (NYC), Public Records, and in Europe in partnership with Index Records, they have worked with artists such as James Hoff, J. Albert, Yolabmi, Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, AceMo, Flora Yin Wong, Nexcyia, Young Boy Dancing Group, UMFANG, Color Plus, Poncili Creación, Special Guest DJ, Arushi Jain, Drumloop, Isabella Koen, Ben Bondy, Kamran Sadeghi, Yawning Portal, James K., Syndey Spann, Debit, Pent and many others.

Resident Advisor called their most recent compilation record ‘Channel Plus’ “one of the most stunning documents of the ‘modern ambient-techno movement pioneered by labels such as Motion Ward and West Mineral’, with a focus on New York as well as a global outreach that encompasses chilled-out trap, electro, downtempo and even early '00s electroacoustic music”. Their debut solo artist release from J. Albert and Will August Park, entitled “Flat Earth” (2023), was based on free improvisation and ambient jazz, receiving praise from Philip Sherburne, Shawn Reynaldo, and was included in RYMs top EPs of the year. 29S has been written about on ID, Bandcamp Daily: Best Ambient, Boomkat, Paper Mag, Artnet, Dazed, Clot Mag, Nina Protocol, and Document Journal.

The newest release from 29 Speedway, UltraBody, is a compilation record featuring the music of Jake Muir, Pent & Dylan Kerr, Nexcyia & Mu Tate, James K, Flora Yin-Wong, Ex Wiish & Dorothy Carlos, Kamran Sadeghi, Tati au Miel, James Hoff, Eric Frye, Muein and Maxwell Sterling. The record is emblematic of the artists who have performed at 29 Speedway shows in New York and Europe during the past two years, and is the third in a series released by the label.

The record was born out of a desire to investiage how the self, spirituality, and language are intertwined with the intervention of subjectivity by new technologies. With increasingly sophisticated tech, and the supposed ability to remake the world and ourselves, what differentiates our individual discretion from the will imposed upon us by software? Quoting Walter Chaw from his piece on David Cronenberg’s Videodrome, “Decades of rampant, unregulated and ill-considered technological leaps have begun to evolve, to mutate, humans at a biological level”. This haphazard acceleration towards a techno-utopic transformation of humanity has faulted, and as William Gibson put it, is leading us to live in a “half assed singularity”. In this reality, artistic processes are influenced by excessive access to computational tools and assistance, but not utterly controlled.

This in-between state of dominion is explored in 29 Speedway: UltraBody. “Incoherences” samples the utterances of Dylan Kerr’s voice processed between Pent’s percolated glazes, muddying the gulf between vaporous ambient and reflexive sound design. The voice on James Hoff’s “A... ...Cha.... A... I feel l” was created by trying to get voice cloning technology to sing a gps data stream, the music an extrapolation from an earworm he got stuck in his head while shopping in Kyoto. On “Plogue Chain”, Eric Frye’s most speculative sci-fi observations spiral into a glazed pool of digital cacophony, while Kamran Sadeghi’s “Formula Fiction” is an experiment in (un)controlled generativity. Incorporating minimal pings from a 3D simulation scene based on gravitational interaction, cello bits evolve on “Assimilation”, a collaboration between Ex Wiish & Dorothy Carlos.

On UltraBody, sound has no separate existence from space.

There is propably no single event that has as potent of an
effect on the german Techno- scene as the fall of the Berlin
Wall. A city divided suddenly, in one single night, became
uni¦ed, opening up both sides for the new experiences and
ways to view life the other might have. Berlin’s eastside with
it’s empty, unused warehouses proved to be a fertile breeding
ground for free spirits and those carrying a newfound ¦re in
their eyes. This was the zero hour. The Consolidation. And it
is this mindset, spirit and ¦re of Consolidation that Shaleen
conjures on her debut EP of the same name. The title track
opens up by sampling John F. Kennedy’s legendary “Berlin”
speech from 1964, before absolutely caving in the concrete
with a beyond-heavy kickdrum and a very stripped down but
effective 909-percussion section. Spursed in along the track’s
runtime are droning sirens and JFK continuing to beckon you
to lose yourself in the metropolitan bowels. This is the
anthem of a past revolution. On Deconstruction, Shaleen
goes down a slightly more basement oriented route. The
Percussion shares the title track’s stripped down
effectiveness, but the Groove is more rolling, the Vocal
samples are more distorted and there are sharp synths
cutting through the beats like shards of broken glass. Of
course, a revolution wouldn’t be complete without a mob so
both Cadency aka Hector Oaks and New Frames have put
their spin on the EP’s title track. Mr. Cadeny is up ¦rst and,
being no stranger to revolutionary anthems, has given
Consolidation an almost contemplative mood in his Remix,by adding a very subtle melody. This doesn’t mean it hits any
less hard, mind you, there is an incredibly strong drive to the
track, paired with an almost constantly looping vocal and the
sirens going into overdrive, this would be the track to drive
crowds into a frenzy. Meanwhile New Frames’ track is the
kind of thing you wouldn’t want to encounter alone in a dark
alleyway. The sub-basses are heavy enough to terraform
Mars, the Jungle-esque Synthlines roar and snarl at the
listener and every drop feels like a right hook to the chin. The
original’s vocal is cut in a way that it only adds to the
stomping rhythm, putting you in a mood to throw bricks. So
while this record showcases an aggressive sound and a
mood for revolution, it is important to remember it’s title.
Consolidation. It echoes a message of uni¦cation. Of
standing together. Because together we are, have been and
will always be stronger than by ourselves.

Repress

I lean upon this,
I lean on all of this
and I know
her dress upon my arm
but
they will not
give her back to me.
Early support: Truss, Tommy Four Seven, Truncate, Marcel Dettmann, Psyk, AnD, Pfirter, Eomac, Perc, Rebekah, Svreca, Paula Temple, Dax J, Joseph Capriati, Joachim Spieth, Henning Baer, Lag, Takaaki Itoh, Go Hiyama, D. Carbone, Par Grindvik, Max M, Wire, Paul Mac, Kriz, Octave, Drvg Cvltvre, Dimi Angelis, Joe Farr, Ryuji Takeuchi, Slam, Rivet, Gary Beck, Nuno dos Santos, Manni Dee, Luis Ruiz, Mark Morris, Mattias Woot, Mike Darkfloor, Erphun, Radial, Exium, P.E.A.R.L., Mr. Jones, Joseph Mcgeechan, Joton, UVB, Juho Kusti, Aiken, Operator, Jeff Rushin, Martyn Hare, Inigo Kennedy, Sebastian Kokow, Roberto, Shards, L.A.W, Ricardo Garduno, Space DJz, Operator, Blank Code, Patrick DSP...

On “Philadelphia 2099,” a laidback electronic vista evokes the long violet twilight that precedes sunrise on Mars. On “Tharsis Montes,” bubbling synth lines signal the industry of the day ahead, before an infectiously funky bassline is sown on “Seeds,” and alien growth is tended amid shards of interstellar synth sunlight in “Echoes From The Red Valley.”

The latest by New York-based producer Lamin Fofana further refines his cinematic dialect of fractured soundscapes, displaced rhythms, and tectonic unease. Unsettling scores aptly describes itself: grainy, bristling, and bruised, rippling with dread disguised as grandeur. The collection emerged from an extended reworking of his 2016 composition, “A Symbol of the Withdrawn God,” mining deeper into the piece’s “unvoiced fragments, shards, and utterances.” Other tracks were inspired by recent readings on climate emergency and its “specific implications for Black life, from hurricanes in the Caribbean to mudslides in West Africa.”

Fofana has spoken of his music as part of a “legacy of resistance,” spanning the roots of Detroit techno to the outer reaches of contemporary sound art as championed by his labels, Sci-Fi & Fantasy and Black Studies. His work here vividly embodies that spirit, seven hyper-textural transmissions of rumbling lament, shifting sands, and restless innovation, tracing jagged silhouettes of indeterminate futures: “The instability is worldwide.”

comes in deluxe gatefold edition with lyrics sheets and colored vinyl limited to 500 copies

Early 20th century. Barbarism on an industrial scale. After the final shots had rung out Europe was left a husk, a shell to be rebuilt. And she did rebuild. Slowly, but surely, normality returned. Different zones. Different ideologies. One Europe. Yet not everyone was happy. Within this struggling continent there were those who saw the hand of authoritarianism at the wheel, past criminals ruling and lands being led back to dictatorship. The solution: the sub machine gun.From Reason to Ritual is Rude 66´s most ambitious album to date. Amsterdam´s premier electronic musician maps the rise and fall of terrorism over two slabs of wax. Gruesome naivety, one that led to countless deaths, is given an electro beat on the first record, 'Reason.' Warbling wave vocals from Ruud's wife Shaunna tell a bitter tale of paranoia and looming violence. That violence is truly realised on the second record 'Ritual.' Beats rain like shards of broken glass, constricted acid and echo as the enemy closes in for the final hollow defeat. An album that takes you from manifesto to death march.

Early support by: Marcel Dettmann, Takaaki Itoh, Gary Beck, DVS1, Adam Beyer, Randomer, Jeroen Search, Speedy J, Jonas Kopp, Tommy Four Seven,Slam, Mosca, Psyk, Paul Mac, NX1, Manni Dee, Progression, Scalameriya, Thomas Hessler, Juho Kusti, Ryuji Takeuchi, Mr Jones, ANFS, Dustin Zahn, Kyle Geiger, Joton, Paul Birken, Hector Oaks, Charlton, Dario Zenker, Kwartz, Dimi Angelis, Drvg Cvltvre, Stranger, Mikael Jonasson, Arnaud le Textier, Dax J, Jerome Hill, 3.14, Pfirter, Echologist, Darko Esser, Tripeo, Endlec, Stenny, Clouds, I/Y, Rivet, Henning Baer, Dave Tarrida, Rolf Mulder, W.I.R.E, SHDW, Pacou, Patrick DSP, Ansome, Sebastian Krenzlin, Rebekah, Gareth Wild, Domenico Crisci, Perc, Setaoc Mass, J.Tijn, Radial, Aiken, The Black Dog, Ness, Developer, Exium, Sawf, Joseph Capriati, Svreca, Shards, Truss, Truncate, Myler, Inigo Kennedy, Advanced Human, Operator

Special Friend have become the masters of weaving elegant and sophisticated pop musical webs while staying true to their low-fi indiepop roots. The French/American duo (Guillaume on guitar and vocals, Erica on drums and vocals) manage to create a sound like no other band. When they play live, audiences marvel at the huge, intricate structures the band construct, while falling in love with the crystal-clear vocal melodies that are threaded in between the shards of guitar and the rattle of the drums. How can a duo achieve so much? UK audiences will be able to ponder this question in March: Special Friend are coming over from France to do a substantial tour of the UK. These shows are highly recommended!
The new album is more diverse that the last, with the high-tempo indiepop of first single ‘Breakfast’, the majestic, Yo La Tengo-like dreampop of ‘Clipping’ and the country-ish, gentle, homesick melancholy of ‘Isolation’. Final track ‘OOO’ is a bold piece of Krautrock-inspired experimentation; ‘Mold’ is a beautiful slice of slowcore and opener ‘Paint A Picture’ is modern pop at its catchiest and most direct.

‘Clipping’, the album title, refers to the discipline of pruning growth back, removing dead wood to create a perfectly shaped tree with abundant blossoms: an accurate description of the album, and of the songs that hang from its elegant branches. The album artwork is by Erica: Special Friend are in control of every aspect of this elegant artefact.
‘Clipping’ was recorded in 2025 at Studio Claudio by Alexis Fugain and Margaux Bouchaudon. Set in an isolated rural environment conducive to immersion, the band had seven days in the studio—significantly more than for previous records—allowing for greater care in the recording process, particularly for vocals and arrangements. Several tracks feature synthesizers and organs, acoustic guitar, and even an electric bass on “Sanctuary,” a first for Special Friend. Overall, the record benefits from a more developed and detailed production while preserving the band’s direct approach and spontaneity.

The album was mixed by Syd Kemp, who has worked with artists such as Thurston Moore, Ulrika Spacek, Caroline, Crack Cloud, and Vanishing Twin.
Special Friend’s previous album on Skep Wax, ‘Wait Until The Flames Come Rushing In’ was an underground hit, with a significant amount of airplay in the UK and in the US.
‘Clipping’ is a co-release with Howlin Banana Records and Hidden Bay Records (both in France). Skep Wax is proud to present the album in the UK and in North America.

A label long synonymous with raw, off-centre electronics and uncompromising club tools, Bjarki’s bbbbbb recors welcomes a producer whose approach feels cut from the same cloth, London’s Henry Greenleaf. In an era where functionality often outweighs feeling, ‘Brawn’ is a record that doesn’t court approval; it insists on impact. Built for high-pressure systems and low ceilings, it channels force not as spectacle, but as design.

Greenleaf’s catalogue to date, spanning labels such as Par Avion, YUKU, and ARTS, sketches a restless trajectory between precision and collapse. His productions operate where rhythm becomes architecture: kicks land like poured concrete, subs buckle and flex beneath shifting percussive grids, and textures are stretched until they fray at the edges. Sound is treated as a physical material, layered and stress-tested, reshaped until the familiar mutates into something tactile and strange.

Across the EP, that philosophy takes full form. A1 ‘Brawn’ sets the tone with dense, piston-like drums and tightly coiled low-end pressure, balancing brute force with meticulous spatial control. ‘Jump Up To Be’ follows with a more fractured swing, percussive shards ricocheting across a framework that feels perpetually on the verge of rupture. On the flip, ‘Gawk’ strips things back to skeletal components, carving negative space between distorted pulses and menacing, warped rhythmic figures, before ‘UNTUNTUNT’ closes the record in driving fashion, delivering a raw, functional workout that reduces the groove to its bluntest, most hypnotic form.

True to the label’s ethos, ‘Brawn’ doesn’t chase trends or smooth its edges. It folds air and pressure into motion, pares club music down to its working parts, and leaves room for spontaneous chaos to erupt within the grid; moments where structure splinters, energy misbehaves, and control gives way just enough to keep things volatile. Engineered yet unpredictable, utilitarian yet unruly, the EP embodies the tension, unpredictability, and uniqueness that have long defined bbbbbb recors.

Impatience is thrilled to present Leaving Memory, the latest album-length work by Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova. Leaving Memory is a searing distillation of the duo’s ouevre - it’s eleven prismatic electronic seances combining for a mind warping wormhole with it’s own internal (il)llogic, where pop, ambient, and industrial music convene beneath a rugged HD of digital processing and brain fog. Equally rosy with nostalgia as it is ominously forward looking, Leaving Memory defies easy categorization and makes for an astounding, confounding listen.

By turns violently abrasive and disarmingly touching, Piper and Lena deploy sounds that fracture and disintegrate, burn up and explode, synthetic supernovas that give the record an unmistakable, inimitable texture. Song structures often abide by their own blueprint - heading in one direction before making an abrupt dive elsewhere. Bursts of vibrant colour lurk below layers of grayscale noise. Unidentifiable voices deliver secret messages from the murk. When rhythm’s emerge they ground the tracks to some unknown terrain and invigorate.

Lame Line veers towards the sweeter end of their spectrum, a hazy plaintive repetition increasingly lashed with friction, before Exit erupts with clanging rhythm and shards of distortion. Diagnosis is an almost sweet alt-pop song, Lena’s vocals yearning beneath a dubby shuffle, while Keeper Of The Void’s possessed incantations open up to a ripping, fried climax. Beryl Grey releases the pressure gauge, a gently lilting drift arpeggiating as the sun sets, and Lost Cars sweats through claustrophobic drones and bird song before the clouds part on a serene scene. Leaving Memory closes with Shin, offering a genuinely sweet resolution and a gentle landing back down to earth of either footsteps or fireworks, swelling synthesized horns and woodwinds, a kiss on the cheek for making it out the other side.

On Leaving Memory, Piper Spray & Lena Tsibizova share their uniquely discordant take on freaky music for unsettled minds, an intensely energized set that offers a deeply evocative, unimaginable otherworld for adventurous ears.

Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova have been producing music together since 2020. Leaving Memory is the first to be presented in the LP format. Piper has previously released music via Orange Milk, Hausu Mountain and Gost Zvuk, as well as his own Singapore Sling Tapes label. Lena works predominantly as a photographer, and together Piper and Lena have released music via radio.syg.ma and Kartaskvazhin. Both make music as part of Air Krew, who have released music on the Echotourist and Motion Ward labels. They’re both currently based nowhere.

Leaving Memory was written, produced and mixed by Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova, and mastered by Sergey Podluzhniy. Cover photo by Lena Tsibizova, design and layout by Justin Sloane.

Between 2023 and 2025, L.F.T. split his time between Hamburg and Berlin, slowly piecing together what would become his most ambitious work to date. The result is Hell Was Boring - a double album that plays like a fever dream, unfolding as a dark, mythical tale about life, death, and the strange spaces in between.


L.F.T. - the alias of German producer and multi-instrumentalist Johannes Haas - has always thrived on tension: between punk urgency and electronic precision, between raw emotion and mechanical repetition. On Hell Was Boring, those tensions are amplified. Drawing on the spectral drama of Bauhaus, the melancholic minimalism of Linear Movement, the futuristic romanticism of Gary Numan, and even the sly swagger of Falco, the album feels at once deeply personal and part of a much older musical lineage.


The sound is stripped down to its bones: drums snap and rattle from a Roland TR-808, TR-707 and Korg KR-55; basslines growl from a Roland SH-101 and Korg MS-20; shards of guitar cut through clouds of tape hiss. Everything was tracked to a Teac Tascam 80-8 reel-to-reel, giving each track a lived-in, imperfect warmth. Nothing is overpolished - L.F.T. wanted the listener to hear the edges, the grit, the moments when the music almost comes apart.


Along the way, he invited friends and long-time collaborators into the fold - Das Kinn, Rosaceae, Felix Kubin, Children Of Leir, and Konstantin Unwohl - each leaving their own fingerprints on the record’s world of shadows and static.


Hell Was Boring isn’t a mere collection of songs; it’s a narrative that drags you into its orbit and doesn’t quite let go. It’s music for the late hours when reality feels porous, and for those moments when you’re not sure if you’re waking up or still dreaming.

Limited to 250 copies !

The Deadheads had never had much luck with spaceships. Their first mission had ended in a catastrophic engine failure, leaving them adrift in deep space for weeks. This time, their craft was hardly more reassuring. A hodgepodge of outdated technology and shoddy repairs made it more of a floating death trap than a reliable cruiser. As they began their descent toward the strange planet, the hull creaked and rattled, sending a wave of dread through the crew.

"Hold on," Matt's voice crackled over the intercom, without much conviction, as if he himself doubted they would make it out alive. Outside, a thick, grayish atmosphere swirled ominously, while the planet's gravity became far stronger than anticipated.

“Fuck, we’re gonna burn at the entrance!” M yelled, his hands flailing on the console as sparks flew from the control panel. The ship’s sensors were completely jammed, and the navigation system flickered intermittently, like a dying light. Below, the planet’s surface was a tangle of lava rivers and jagged rock formations, the kind of place no sane person would ever land. But the Deadheads had never pretended to be. They lived in a state of constant emergency.

As the descent intensified, the alarms blared. On the bridge, the screens lit up with red warnings and flashing messages: "SYSTEM ERROR," "UNSTABLE TRAJECTORY," "SUIVITY SYSTEM COMPROMISED." The lines of code scrolled by too quickly to be read, while a mechanical voice repeated relentlessly: "Imminent impact. Structural integrity at twenty percent."

The once pristine shell of the vessel began to disintegrate, with shards of metal breaking away and disappearing into the atmosphere.

With a final, piercing screech, the ship crashed onto the planet's surface, sending up a cloud of dust and debris. The crew was violently thrown from their seats, stunned but barely alive. They struggled to their feet amidst the wreckage, the ship reduced to a charred shell around them.

"Well," M said, wiping the dirt off his suit with a grimace, "at least the air is breathable." Matt scanned the hostile expanse stretching before them and smiled slightly. "Perfect. Let's hope we have better luck with the planet than with our ships."

With that, the Deadheads gathered their equipment and headed into the unknown, while the remains of their ship slowly sank into the unstable soil of the planet.

Assembled by Pedro Alves Sousa, Má Estrela is a conjuration of ideas and obsessions around dub, leftfield dance phenomena and the hypnotic potential of urban somnambulance.

In a levitating state, not exactly detached from the unease of these end times, Sousa surrounds himself by a number of accomplices from past and present endeavours to project a scrying mirror reflection of distinct languages of trance and liberation - dub's space and infinity, jungle and footwork's broken shards, DJ Screws legacy perpetually reanimated via numerous slowed down anonymous versions on Youtube and the lyricism and fire of jazz.

Temporarily a quartet, comprised of Sousa on saxophone and its electronic processing, Bruno Silva and Simão Simões on electronics and Gabriel Ferrandini on acoustic and electronic drums, after the departure of Miguel Abras, Má Estrela had in their 2022 debut album their first document of this ongoing process that’s now continued with ‘Tornada". Miguel Abras has since been replaced with Bruna de Moura and Má Estrela came back to being a five piece.

Coming out in November through Discrepant, with Miguel Abras' bass still present, 'Tornada' deepens the symbiotic connection between those rhythmic, melodic and textural particles in a mutating flux of continuities and disruptions throughout seven tracks. Featuring the invocations of Elvin Brandhi in 'All You Did', 'Tornada' makes its way amidst harmonic spectres, rhythmic debris that breathe for life and a certain, implicit idea of ritual that sustains itself liminally between the ethereal dissolution of time and the physical projection of space.

Elations Recordings presents "Return of the Airpoets", an exploratory recording from longtime collaborators Reuben Lewis (I Hold The Lion's Paw) & Adam Halliwell (Mildlife, IHTLP), occupying a unique space between contemporary experimental music and avant jazz. Engineered and mixed by Reuben Lewis in 2023, and featuring guest appearances from acclaimed Australian drummer Ronny Ferella.

"Return of the Airpoets" continues a conversation begun with 'Cygon Dance', an extended duo between Lewis and Halliwell from Halliwell's 2023 LP "Freedom Lapse"; a dialogue that stems from a shared love and respect for Jon Hassell's Fourth World music. Sonic pioneer and adventurer, Hassell's futuristic vision advocated possible musics, stressing plurality and multiplicity. Faithful to his vision, Adam and Reuben, as trailblazers rather than imitators, delight in boundless musical possibilities, adopting Hassell's futurism as stock-in-trade, making it their own while augmented with neo noir hues and hints of the tilted electro-funk of Miles Davis' collaborations with Marcus Miller.

These nine tracks flow together as a unified suite, their shadowy presence stitched from fractured narratives: imaginary crimes, murders, dreams, the unspoken. At the same time, you can detect the artists' meticulous attention to sonic detail, feel the undercurrents, the complex layering. This music has been distilled, winnowed, from extended improv sessions, with the artists - as producers - zeroing in on offcuts, shards, and splinters, seamlessly patching together fragments in post-production to construct intricately layered sound collages, taking a leaf out of Tao Macero's book, building from the ground up.

Who are these airpoets? Their mystifying trial suggests the travails of Joseph K, sentenced for unspecified crimes. But I prefer to see them as fugitives escaped from Robert Bolaño's novel, "Savage Detectives". In Bolaño's book, poet Juan Garcia Madero is granted admission to the shadowy group of poets, the Visceral Realists, whose movement has no clear aims, and whose members "walked backward . . . gazing at a point in the distance, but moving away from it, walking straight toward the unknown." Like the visceral poets, these airpoets, Reuben Lewis and Adam Halliwell, set their sights on a point on the distant horizon, setting off without map or compass, drawing nearer and moving away, towards the unknown.

US Black Friday 2025 Release. There are very few albums in the psych/punk/hard rock/private presses strata that garner the sort of universal awe and accolades that Fraction’s almighty Moonblood LP does, and even fewer records in the world that could be dubbed ‘Christian Rock’ incur such fierce devotion. Indeed some records just meteorically lift themselves out any genre tag with brilliance and sheer defiance--and Moonblood is surely one of them. Based in LA, Fraction was a ragged collection of working-class musicians--the line-up was ringleader Jim Beach--vocals; Don Swanson--lead guitar, Curt Swanson--drums, Victor Hemme--bass, and Robert Meinel--rhythm guitar. Beach himself describes those early days: “The guys met through various acquaintances that we had in LA. All of us had been in bands before, but were seeking something with more teeth. We had a small studio in an industrial complex in North Hollywood and started practicing sometimes as early as 4:30 AM. We all had day jobs, so we did what we could.”

Amazingly the recording sessions for the album were recorded similarly on the fly, as Beach further states: “The Moonblood recording took place at Whitney’s Studio in Glendale, CA, early in 1971. On a strict budget, these songs were recorded in less than three hours—all of them “one takes.” We played, all 5 of us, simultaneously-- there were no studio effects, no overdubbing or any additional sound effects added. Basically what you hear is considered ‘old school’ recording.”

This workmanlike description in no way prepares one for the pure tortured genius the session wrought. Particularly noteworthy is Beach’s vocals—as commonly stated, the spirit of Jim Morrison is conjured in his deep baritone, which gives way to unparalleled pained howls, at times bathed in delay which trails into the abyss. Fascinatingly enough, Beach cites the much punker Love as his fave LA band over the Doors, and also gives influence-nods to proto-everything rockers The Yardbirds and to Dylan, whose dark word tapestries surely inspired Beach’s lyrics (though lines from The Doors’ “L’America” pop up on the LP) Whatever the case, the man clearly has a vision, as even the stark sleeve concept is Beach’s own. Equally as integral to the Fraction sound is lead guitarist Don Swanson—his blown-out fuzz riffs set a template for what is now commonly known as “stoner rock” or “acid punk,” and his solos consist of jagged, wah-wah-ed shards of notes, with his amplifier clearly pushed to the limit.

Beach says: “Don’s guitar was always my driving force and he did everything he could to keep it over the top. You’d never know that (his sound) was coming from an old, broken down Esquire. Don kept it alive!” The other members contributions shouldn’t be underappreciated though-- drummer Curt Swanson keeps things at a constant simmer, and then boils over when the whole band launches into snarling glory. The band and LP as a whole equals something indescribably intense from start to finish—comparisons to the Detroit late 60s high-energy bands like The Stooges and MC5 abound, as well as the sort of late 60s damaged spirit lurking in biker clubs and disgruntled Vietnam vets. The song cycle on side 1 of the LP in particular cuts to the emotional core, with severely charged dark lyrics like “Extend your thumbs and burn the darkness out of her.” Which brings us to the Christian aspect--it often can confuse listeners. The Fraction/Beach world of religion is complex and perhaps a bit pagan/sinister than most---fire and brimstone, temptation, and the truth-seeker being burned by this hell on earth—or perhaps as Beach himself best put it: “Speaking for myself, as a believer, it’s been a progressive experience since my childhood.

I think we’re all basically driven to live more than religion.” The album was pressed in a run of but a few hundred to little attention in the day, but now inferior bootlegs flood the marketplace, and originals of Moonblood command thousands of dollars. So enjoy this all-inclusive reissue, which also features for the first time on vinyl, 3 lost tracks-- like the more acoustic-minded “prisms” and “dawning light,” as well as the proto-metal choogle of “Intercessor’s Blues.”

For his last solo record ‘Through a Room’, Bill Nace shifted his usual saturated guitar sound and added tapes, hurdy gurdy, doughnut pipe, bird calls and the mysterious Japanese taishōgoto. Setting up for the final night of his three day residency at OTO with only the taishōgoto soundchecked, Nace hoped that Parker would arrive with his small soprano as its opposite. “I’ve been interested in state change, you know, playing until there’s a shift in time.” Known for his development of multiphonics to produce a constantly shifting pattern, Evan Parker has evolved an instantly recognizable sound - his work the soprano most distinct. Happily, it was the soprano Evan brought with him and as soon as the two start to play they entwine - taking off in a double helix of keys and reed primed for endless reconfiguration. Space warps under the velocity of playing, the pitch rising unrelentingly. It felt like unending lift off in the room, sheer energy until the last note makes remember your feet have been on the floor the whole time. Total time bending shredding.

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"They had never played together before. They had never even met each other before this springtime 2024 concert at London’s Café Oto.

Evan Parker, circular breathing maestro of the saxophone, a legend in the universe that is Free Improvisation since the late 1960s and Bill Nace, one of the most intriguing experimental “noise” guitarists of the 1990s/2000s underground scene.

For those of us who have been enamored by the live and documented work of both these gents, this Café Oto duo was a must-hear event. It could have gone anywhere musically and that would have been totally fine. Particularly with Evan having a history of being thrown into a variety of challenging collaborations throughout his career, employing the learned elegance of trust in his own sensitivity to listening, responding, leading, following, sparring, intertwining, dialoguing, creating in the instant and, essentially, dignifying the non-hierarchical grace of chance.

The aesthetics of socialist consideration in Evan Parker’s playing, in his community of expanded and personal technique, for a younger player such as Bill Nace, strikes an exemplary model. This notion of respect would be entirely the reason Nace, when offered a residency at the most critical “new music” room in England, would request to play in duo with Parker.

Bill Nace came to prominence mostly during the apex of experimental music activity in and around Western Massachusetts in the early days of the aughts, with a focus on visual art and free improvisation guitar action. He could be found in the daytime hours, his head hanging down over a notepad, penning fine-tuned illustrations and abstract line drawings, while in the evenings he’d be attending any number of basement noise gigs, many of which he’d be participating in. His guitar style came across as being informed as much as by the physicality of his writing utensils in friction to the page as it was to his hearing and redefining of radical recordings ranging anywhere from the Black Unity Group to Black Flag.

Utilizing various metal files and other small cylindrical objects Bill would allow his guitar and amplifier to be in tandem with the improvisatory movements of his body as the instrument balanced, intentionally and, at times, precariously, upon his lap. The performances came across thrilling and daring and they would be mostly in the context of venues nothing more than a low-ceilinged damp and dank New England basement, a clutch of people hanging onto rusty pipes or sitting up on dilapidated washer/dryer machines, the shards of Bill’s “file guitar” sounds ringing out like the most alive music on Earth.

By the time Bill reached Café Oto in early 2024 he had relocated to Philadelphia all the while releasing a succession of collaborative LPs on his Open Mouth label to present his developing progression of solo and collaborative work. He also would find himself considerably engaged with playing the electric taishōgoto, a keyboard-activated string instrument from Japan which can exist as a one, two, four, five, or six string oblong sound object. Bill’s approach to the taishōgoto would not be too unlike his approach to the traditional electric guitar, though no outboard implements such as files, sticks, and rocks are utilized. The similarity would lie wholly with Bill’s full immersion of high velocity action-playing where, with the taishōgoto, an electric drone beauty occurs. The flurry of sonics and resultant harmonics emanating from the amplifier (which Bill opts to dial into with borderline loud-as fuck volume settings) furthers the meta-mantra properties of the instrument in an astounding display of drone dynamism.

This sound world of Bill’s two-stringed taishōgoto on this Café Oto night worked beautifully with Evan Parker’s improvisatory saxophone conceptions. The duology achieved instant lift off at ground zero only to find it’s eventual finale as if it were organically ordained. Time seemingly morphed from its ancient human construct of control, rendered inconsequential to the torrential transcendence of the room wildly activated by the magic resonance of the multi-directional pan-spatial sonance of the music as if it were some beatific blessing. It was one of those nights where art as a liberating force of spirit gifted the listeners with an offering of exaltation and joy. It was entirely mystical and mind blowing. A night of Total Music."

Thurston Moore, London, 2025

Cindy Lee is the brainchild of singer/guitarist Patrick Flegel. While some may know Flegel from his time spent in Canadian experimental indie band Women, Cindy Lee has spent the past four years crafting songs that push and pull in opposing directions - from tales of tragedy laced with haywire distortion to moments of breathtaking beauty. On Malenkost, Flegel combines everything that makes Cindy Lee so essential: heart-wrenching romantic pleas, rough shards of noise and twilit ballads. Featuring the lo-fi pop single "A Message From The Aching Sky," Malenkost sounds like Deerhunter playing The Supremes or vice versa.