quête:she lies

Roland Van Campenhout is certainly one of the most unique Belgian artists. Active since the 1960s, Roland has built an extensive and eclectic discography. With more than 20 albums featuring folk, blues, rock, world music, movie and theatre soundtracks — all blending together to create a new musical dimension that defines his true free musical spirit. He has received multiple awards, toured the world with Rory Gallagher, and performed with Tim Hardin, Leo Kottke, Ian Anderson, and the entire Belgian scene.

"This digitally re-mastered version of ""Generator"" contains two bonus tracks for ""Heaven Is Falling"" and ""Fertile Crescent"" that originally appeared on the split 7"" with Noam Chomsky put out by Maximum Rock"N Roll in "91. ""Generator"" knocks about stirringly with a steadfast, mid-tempo punk roar, keeping the songs simple but continually on the upsurge. Brett and Greg Hetson"s guitars piggyback to ever-rousing heights, utilizing the essential chords and keeping limits on flashy things like solos or effects, never letting the enthusiasm or sentiment wane. With all players striving to turn each listening experience into a placard-waving melee, Bad Religion emblazons honest, dissatisfied-with-the-status-quo lyrics with an Uberpunk spirit, Greg Graffin"s vocals growing more gravelly and endearing with each record. With the implicit understanding that strength lies in brevity, Bad Religion hew mighty exhortations to action out of a well-trampled happy-punk base, and the sheer motivational impact of ""Generator,"" ""Only Entertainment,"" ""Atomic Garden"" and ""No Direction"" sweeps clear any charges of oversimplification or sameness. Generator is a brutal noise that is louder, faster & angrier than ever! A plethora of power punching punk pedagogy."

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves.Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl's newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single "Not Hell, Not Heaven" outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. "It's about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim," explains vocalist Kat Moss. "It's trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain't working for me." The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on "Fantasy." "It's incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated," Moss says. "`Fantasy' is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard." The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, "Are We All Angels," asking questions like, "Is this all there is?" and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. "It's about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn't matter how `good' or `bad' you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do," explains Moss, noting that punctuation on "Are We All Angels" has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl's debut, 2021's How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record's sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called "Seeds to Sow," that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. "It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we're fulfilling that," says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023's widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next.Scowl's growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band's scope. "Will would say, `Everything you have here is correct, but it's in the wrong place,'" says Gilbert. Moss adds: "Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses." But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. "Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate," says guitarist Malachi Greene. "At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes."

Prometheus is the 2012 science fiction horror film directed by Ridley Scott, written by Jon Spaihts and Damon Lindelof and starring Noomi Rapace, Michael Fassbender, Guy Pearce, Idris Elba, Logan Marshall-Green and Charlize Theron. It is set in the late 21st century and centers on the crew of the spaceship Prometheus as it follows a star map discovered among the artifacts of several ancient Earth cultures. Seeking the origins of humanity, the crew arrives on a distant world and discovers a threat that could cause the extinction of the human species.

Marc Streitenfeld is a German composer. He has frequently collaborated with director Ridley Scott. Streitenfeld has composed the music for many high-profile Hollywood features as well as critically acclaimed independent films, including American Gangster, Body of Lies, The Grey, Poltergeist and All I See Is You.

Prometheus became the fifth collaboration between the composer and the director. The score was recorded over one week with a 90-piece orchestra at Abbey Road Studios. Streitenfeld began coming up with ideas for the score after reading the script prior to the commencement of filming. To create an “unsettling” sound, he provided the orchestra with reversed music sheets to have them play segments of the score backwards, before then digitally reversing it. The track “Friend from the Past” reprises Jerry Goldsmith’s original main title from the Alien soundtrack.

The discovery of Doris Dennison's score represents a genuine musicological breakthrough—what once would have been "a tree falling in the woods" thirty years ago now holds the potential to render "a thunderous clap in our minds." While researching Anna Halprin's lesser-known collaborators, scholar Tom Welsh uncovered the archives of AA Leath, one of Halprin's principal dancers. Buried within these materials was Dennison's handwritten score for Earth Interval, dated May 1956. Born in Saskatchewan, Canada, in 1908, and raised near Seattle, Dennison (1908-2009) encountered John Cage while teaching Dalcroze eurythmics at the Cornish College of the Arts. She joined Cage's earliest percussion quartet—alongside Margaret Jansen, the composer and his wife Xenia—in the group widely regarded as having performed the first complete concert of percussion music in the United States. This historic December 1938 concert was followed by tours and the landmark May 1941 performance at the California Club, comprising Cage and Lou Harrison's Double Music, the premiere of Cage's Third Construction, and Harrison's 13th Simfony.

As Bradford Bailey observes in his extensive liner notes, Earth Interval demonstrates "an extraordinary balance of elements that imbues the piece with a sense of clarity, directness, and constraint that is both distinct and ahead of its time." The work's most remarkable innovation lies in its approach to extended techniques, particularly Dennison's notation for the central movement: "In 2nd movement, 1st player lowers + raises a gong into a tub of water while beating." This technique, absorbed from Cage's experimental vocabulary, generates what Bailey describes as "fields of acoustic abstraction that bend and warp time through sustained resonances, beat, and space." The temporal sophistication of these manipulations anticipated Karlheinz Stockhausen's Mikrophonie I (1964) and Annea Lockwood's water-based sound investigations by over a decade. After joining Mills College as dance accompanist, Dennison maintained crucial connections to the Bay Area's experimental scene, collaborating with figures like Merce Cunningham and programming Cage's music throughout the 1950s.

Comprising three movements—Land Form, Air Tide, and Earth Play—Earth Interval is scored for recorder, drums, gongs, maracas, muted gongs, and bowl gongs. In total, the piece is just under eight minutes: "a fleeting glimmer of moment in time, a life spent at the cutting edge, and a singular creative vision that packs a powerful punch." When viewed in historical context, placed in contrast to roughly contemporaneous avant-garde percussion works by Cage, Harrison, Louis Thomas Hardin (Moondog), and Harry Partch, or important precursors like Edgard Varèse's Ionisation (1931) and Henry Cowell's Ostinato Pianissimo (1934), it's clear that Dennison was following her own path. Earth Interval is not derivative. It is a precursor to what was yet to come, alluding to developments of avant-garde and experimental music that wouldn't begin to appear on the cultural landscape until the 1970s and '80s, with the emergence of Post-Minimalism and more idiosyncratic artists and ensembles like Midori Takada, Ros Bandt, Peter Giger, Frank Perry, Christopher Tree, Michael Ranta, Gamelan Son of Lion, and Niagara.

This recording by Chicago's Third Coast Percussion, captured in March 2022, represents the first complete documentation of this pioneering work. The ensemble's interpretation reveals the piece's remarkable contemporaneity while maintaining its historical specificity. Where Cage, Harrison, and Partch employed "self-consciously off-kilter polyrhythms," Dennison's rhythmic sensibility anticipates minimalist developments by nearly a decade, yet integrates "forceful rests, as well as sharp shifts in sonic character, tempo, and meter, that break the momentum and breathe a sense of life into the piece's structure." This positions her work closer to Post-Minimalism decades before its emergence. The architectural approach demonstrates Dennison's understanding that "the composer almost entirely disappears" in favor of phenomenological listening experience, creating what might be called an egoless music that places its realities and meaning entirely in the ear of the beholder. The present recording, realized by Chicago's distinguished Third Coast Percussion ensemble, represents a significant achievement in experimental music scholarship and performance practice. As specialists in the Cage tradition and contemporary percussion repertoire, Third Coast Percussion approached Earth Interval with the historical sensitivity and technical precision required to illuminate Dennison's subtle compositional innovations. The March 2022 recording sessions, engineered by Colin Campbell, capture both the work's intimate chamber music qualities and its bold exploration of extended techniques. The ensemble's interpretation reveals the piece's remarkable contemporaneity—its ability to speak directly to current musical concerns while maintaining its historical specificity.

This recording serves multiple scholarly functions: it provides the first complete documentation of Dennison's compositional voice, offers insight into the broader network of experimental music practitioners surrounding Cage and Harrison, and demonstrates the sophisticated level of compositional thinking that was occurring within the Bay Area's dance-music collaborations of the 1950s. The work's emphasis on phenomenological listening—what might be called an "egoless" approach to musical experience—places it within a lineage of American experimental music that prioritizes perceptual process over compositional personality. The work's original obscurity—limited to AA Leath's performances at venues like the 1957 Pacific Coast Arts Festival at Reed College—paradoxically allowed it to remain "entirely on its own terms," free from the constraints of historical categorization. Drawing on Jacques Derrida's Archive Fever, the argument emerges that "the archive can acknowledge, celebrate, and resurrect" overlooked voices, transforming our understanding of experimental music history. The present Blume edition, featuring Third Coast Percussion's authoritative interpretation, includes a lavishly illustrated 16-page booklet designed by Bruno Stucchi / dinamomilano, containing complete scholarly apparatus, historical photographs, and detailed production notes. This recording enables "cross-temporal intersectionality," allowing Dennison to "belong to a newly formed and more dynamic understanding of the present and past," demonstrating how forgotten voices can reshape entire historical narratives when given proper scholarly attention and performance advocacy.

"Unsent Letters" - ungeschriebene Briefe: liegengeblieben im Schreibtischwirrwarr oder der "Wenn, dann da-"Schublade bezeugen sie vergangene Lebensphasen, regnerische Nachmittage, Zweifel, Experiment und unfertige Gedankengänge. An den Rändern gekräuselt und angeraut, lange vergessen, kommt irgendwann der Zeitpunkt, an dem wir sie doch wieder wie einen Schatz heben und entdecken: hier gibt es Geschichten zu erzählen. So oder so ähnlich erging es Pete Astor. Der ist Musiker, Autor und Dozent. Er war Frontmann der Bands The Loft und The Weather Prophets auf dem Label Creation Records und schrieb Songs, die den Sound des Labels und das aufkommende Indie-Genre maßgeblich prägten. Seitdem hat er eine langjährige Solokarriere verfolgt und Musik auf verschiedenen Labels wie Matador, Heavenly, Warp, EMI und Fortuna Pop veröffentlicht. Er ist Senior Lecturer in Music an der University of Westminster. Neben umfangreichen Tourneen produziert er auch gemeinsam mit David Sheppard als Ellis Island Sound Platten und veröffentlicht sein Spoken-Word-Elektro-Pop-Projekt The Attendant zusammen mit Ian Button (Go Kart Mozart, Death in Vegas) auf dessen Label Faux Lux. Seit 2017 ist Astor beim angesehenen Label Tapete Records unter Vertrag, das auch Künstler wie Robert Forster, Lloyd Cole und Comet Gain beherbergt - neben vielen anderen großartigen Acts. 2025 ist ein Jahr, in dem Pete Astor seine erste Band The Loft wieder aufleben ließ. Die Band hatte sich 1985 getrennt und nun gerade ihr Debütalbum "Everything Changes Everything Stays the Same" fertiggestellt. Wie der Titel andeutet, ist die Band einerseits in der Vergangenheit verwurzelt, blickt aber unbestreitbar nach vorn in die Zukunft. "Unsent Letters" stammt aus einem ähnlichen Kontext: Es enthält Songs, die Astor bereits während seiner Zeit bei The Loft schrieb, die die Band aber nie spielte - zusammen mit Liedern aus seiner vierzigjährigen Karriere, die nun endlich das Licht der Welt erblicken.

Riki is the Los Angeles based dark synth-pop outfit commandeered by the mysterious Niff Nawor, a visual artist and musician active in the deathrock / anarcho-punk scenes of the California bay area (formerly a member of Crimson Scarlet), before founding her solo endeavor as Riki in 2017. Niff's desire to explore her own sound manifested in the recording of the Hot City cassette tape in 2017, which featured Chelsey Crowley of Crimson Scarlet, Skot Brown of Phantom Limbs and Pedaof Doomed to Extinction. Released on Commodity Tapes and later reissued on vinyl by the well-regarded Symphony of Destruction label, Riki followed the release of the single with several small tours and festival dates, performing with such acts as Light Asylum, Black Marble, and Trisomie 21.For her self-titled debut album for Dais, Riki explores courage, physicality, and romance across eight timeless synth pop anthems. Produced and engineered by hardware-based synthesist Matia Simovich of INHALT, influences and ideas are worn proudly without deviating from fresh and daring electro-pop territory. Nostalgic cues can be heard ranging from Neue Deutsch Welle, early Adrian Sherwood productions, classic ZYX Italo Disco, Japanese Visual Kei and even classic new wave/pop like Pat Benatar, Kate Bush, and early Madonna.The lead single, Napoleon, contains Riki's indelible sound design, reminiscent of 80's New York dance floor electro-pop that recalls the fusion of uptown and downtown styles and culture, told through Riki's present day West Coast narrative. For contrast, the second single entitled Böse Lügen (Body Mix) was previously released in demo form and re-mixed to emphasize its commanding presence and addictive nature. Translated simply to "Wicked Lies" and sung completely in German, Böse Lügen moves away from the upbeat romanticism found throughout the album and commands serious self-reflection guised within an infectious dance floor anthem.

The strength of Fan Club Orchestra's (FCO) trajectory lies in their nebulous, collaborative, and experimental nature, always with Laurent Baudoux at the centre. With its roots in the DIY impulses of the Brussels art and music scene of the late nineties, Baudoux rallied together a revolving cast of players with an unconventional ensemble of instruments to explore melancholic psychedelia that touched on drone and minimalism as readily as it carved minor pop hits from cracked electronics. Performances were often highly improvisational, aided by the barely controlled chaos that guest collaborators—such as American artist Mike Kelley—would inject into an appearance.

FCO self-released two albums in the early 2000s before finding a home with Sonig, where they released several more records up until their last with the label in 2013. This was a fitting frame as Sonig, like FCO, channelled the fervour and formalism of the experimental music history of the Rhineland, which includes Kraftwerk, krautrock, and key early electronic music studios.

Following an eleven year hiatus, Laurent Baudoux reassembled the group in 2024 and presented a new album with the esteemed Glaswegian label 12th Isle late in that same year. Building on the strength of the new iteration, and with the aim of reappraising some of the rich yet oblique history of the group through this new lens, FCO have remastered and reissued their 2013 album, 'An Insane Portrait'.

The recordings were originally commissioned in 2009 for Fabrizio Terranova's film 'Josée Andrei, An Insane Portrait' about the truly remarkable figure Josée Andrei. Shot in San Francisco, the film is an intimate portrait of Andre. Blind from birth, she is a witch, painter, photographer, tarot reader, and psychology and modern literature graduate.

'An Insane Portrait' captures a stripped-back FCO, with Baudoux working solely with original FCO member Ann Appermans. The configuration of Baudoux's electronics and Appermans' bass guitar yield a tender and preciously melodic suite of instrumentals.

Originally released on vinyl by Sonig in 2013, the remaster will again be presented by the label in a limited cassette edition and in digital formats, each featuring a bonus track that was not included in its original release.

The strength of Fan Club Orchestra's (FCO) trajectory lies in their nebulous, collaborative, and experimental nature, always with Laurent Baudoux at the centre. With its roots in the DIY impulses of the Brussels art and music scene of the late nineties, Baudoux rallied together a revolving cast of players with an unconventional ensemble of instruments to explore melancholic psychedelia that touched on drone and minimalism as readily as it carved minor pop hits from cracked electronics. Performances were often highly improvisational, aided by the barely controlled chaos that guest collaborators—such as American artist Mike Kelley—would inject into an appearance.

FCO self-released two albums in the early 2000s before finding a home with Sonig, where they released several more records up until their last with the label in 2013. This was a fitting frame as Sonig, like FCO, channelled the fervour and formalism of the experimental music history of the Rhineland, which includes Kraftwerk, krautrock, and key early electronic music studios.

Following an eleven year hiatus, Laurent Baudoux reassembled the group in 2024 and presented a new album with the esteemed Glaswegian label 12th Isle late in that same year. Building on the strength of the new iteration, and with the aim of reappraising some of the rich yet oblique history of the group through this new lens, FCO have remastered and reissued their 2013 album, 'An Insane Portrait'.

The recordings were originally commissioned in 2009 for Fabrizio Terranova's film 'Josée Andrei, An Insane Portrait' about the truly remarkable figure Josée Andrei. Shot in San Francisco, the film is an intimate portrait of Andre. Blind from birth, she is a witch, painter, photographer, tarot reader, and psychology and modern literature graduate.

'An Insane Portrait' captures a stripped-back FCO, with Baudoux working solely with original FCO member Ann Appermans. The configuration of Baudoux's electronics and Appermans' bass guitar yield a tender and preciously melodic suite of instrumentals.

Originally released on vinyl by Sonig in 2013, the remaster will again be presented by the label in a limited cassette edition and in digital formats, each featuring a bonus track that was not included in its original release.

Khadim is a stunning reconfiguration of the Ndagga Rhythm Force sound. The instrumentation is radically pared down. The guitar is gone; the concatenation of sabars; the drum-kit. Each of the four tracks hones in on just one or two drummers; otherwise the sole recorded element is the singing; everything else is programmed. Synths are dialogically locked into the drumming. Tellingly, Ernestus has reached for his beloved Prophet-5, a signature go-to since Basic Channel days, thirty years ago. Texturally, the sound is more dubwise; prickling with effects. There is a new spaciousness, announced at the start by the ambient sounds of Dakar street-life. At the microphone, Mbene Diatta Seck revels in this new openness: mbalax diva, she feelingly turns each of the four songs into a discrete dramatic episode, using different sets of rhetorical techniques. The music throughout is taut, grooving, complex, like before; but more volatile, intuitive and reaching, with turbulent emotional and spiritual expressivity.

Not that Khadim represents any kind of break. Its transformativeness is rooted in the hundreds upon hundreds of hours the Rhythm Force has played together. Nearly a decade has passed since Yermande, the unit's previous album. Every year throughout that period — barring lockdowns — the group has toured extensively, in Europe, the US, and Japan. With improvisation at the core of its music-making, each performance has been evolutionary, as it turns out heading towards Khadim. “I didn’t want to simply continue with the same formula," says Ernestus. “I preferred to wait for a new approach. Playing live so many times, I wanted to capture some of the energy and freedom of those performances.” Though several members of the touring ensemble sit out this recording — sabar drummers, kit-drummer, synth-player — their presence abides in the structure and swing of the music here.

Lamp Fall is a homage to Cheikh Ibra Fall, founder of the Baye Fall spiritual community. The mosque in the city of Touba is known as Lamp Fall, because the main tower resembles a lantern. Soy duggu Touba, moom guey séen / When you enter Touba, he is the one who greets you. After a swift, incantatory start Mbene sings with reflective seriousness. Her voice swirls with reverb, over a tight, funky, propulsive interplay between synth and drums, threaded with one-two jabs of bass. Cheikh Ibra Fall mi may way, mo diayndiou ré, la mu jëndé ko taalibe... Cheikh Ibra Fall amo morome, aboridial / Cheikh Ibra Fall shows the way forward, he gives us strength, he gathers his disciples... Overflowing with grace, Cheikh Ibra Fall has no equal.

Interwoven with Wolof proverbs, Dieuw Bakhul is a recriminatory song about treachery, lies, and back-biting. Over moody, roiling synths and ominous, lean bass, Mbene throws out fluttering scraps of vocal, as if re-running old conversations in her head. The music shadows her despair to the verge of breakdown, at one moment seemingly so lost in thought and memories, that it threatens to disintegrate. Bayilene di wor seen xarit ak seen an da ndo... Dieuw bakhul, dieuw ñaw na / Stop judging your friends and companions... A lie is no good, a lie is ugly.

Khadim is a show-stopper; currently the centrepiece of Ndagga Rhythm Force live performances. The song is dedicated to Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba, aka Khadim, founder of the Mouride Sufi order. Serigne Bamba mi may wayeu / Serigne Bamba is the one who makes me sing. The verses name-check revered members of his family and brotherhood, like Sokhna Diarra, Mame Thierno, and Serigne Bara. Though Islam has been practised in Senegal for a millennium, it wasn’t until the start of the twentieth century that it began to thoroughly permeate ordinary Senegalese society, hand-in-hand with anti-colonialism. The verses here recall Bamba’s banishment by the French to Gabon, and later to Mauritania, in those foundational times. During exile, his captors once introduced a lion to his cell: gaïnde gua waf, dieba lu ci Cheikhoul Khadim / the lion doesn’t budge, it gives itself over to Cheikh Khadim. Deep, surging bass, steady kick-drum, and simple, reverbed chords on the off-beat lend the feel and impetus of steppers reggae. A reed plays snatches of a traditional Baye Fall melody; the dazzling polyrhythmic drumming is by Serigne Mamoune Seck. Mbene compellingly blends percussive vocalese, narrative suspense, exultant praise, introspection, and grievance.

Nimzat is a devotional tribute to Cheikh Sadbou, a contemporary of Bamba, buried in a mausoleum in Nizmat, in southern Mauritania. Way nala, kagne nala... souma danana fata dale / I call upon you and wonder about you... If I am overwhelmed, come to my aid. The town holds special significance for Khadr Sufism. An annual pilgrimage there is conducted to this day. The rhythm is buoyantly funky; the mood is sombre, reined-in, foreboding. Punctuated by peals of thunder, Mbene sings with restrained, intense reverence; huskily confidential, steadfast. Nanu dem ba Nimzat, dé ba sali khina / Let us go to Nimzat, to seal our devotion.

Mbene Diatta Seck: vocals.
Bada Seck: bougarabou, thiol, mbeung mbeung bal, tungune.
Serigne Mamoune Seck: bougarabou, khine, mbeung mbeung, tungune.
Text by Mark Ainley (Honest Jons).
Mastered by Rashad Becker.
Everything else by Mark Ernestus.

Robyn is doing brilliant and important work - the world needs more music like this. Just one word: listen!" Giles Peterson “Even aside from her skills on her instruments and unique approach to music, Robyn devoted an immense quantity of emotional resources to the delivery of this record, and seemed to take its challenges on as a chance for personal growth. It was consistently clear that the personal input of the players was welcome in a fundamental way, and we all responded to Robyn’s efforts that went to the limits of her capacity and her love for bringing her project to you, the listener” Alabaster DePlume “It has been such a joy to work with Robyn, especially when entering the fascinating world of Robyn’s Rocket and Avant Garde jazz. We had our fun moments, like when the fire alarm went off during our recording session of Mystery Man, and we just rolled with it and kept it in. It’s like nothing matters. It’s such an honour to be part of the world of Robyn’s Rocket and to listen to the many stories, expressions and colours that shine throughout the album.”Sebastian Golgiri What happens when you bring together familiar faces at London experimental music venue Café OTO, Charles Hayward (drummer Abstract Concrete, This Heat) and John Edwards (double bass), and the Total Refreshment Centre (hub of new london jazz scene recording studio ) like Alabaster DePlume (singer and saxophonist) and Danalogue (synths from Soccer96, The Comet is Coming), and the learning disability autism art scene like singers/spoken word artists Sebastian Golgiri and Dean Rodney Jnr (Fish Police), on a magic carpet with space trumpeter Robyn Rocket? The answer materialises in the groundbreaking collaboration 'Robyn Rocket and People You May of Heard of'. Recorded across three days in three different studios connected to the three communities Robyn Rocket calls home, each session brought together musicians from these diverse backgrounds—many meeting for the first time. Together, they improvised and created a musical journey that transcends conventional boundaries.

This cosmic voyage features more than 20 musicians and a dog ( Taz from lost socks), gliding through free jazz, danceable tunes, loopy vistas and spoken word doors into different ways of seeing the world. At its heart lies a profound message about community as a vital part of existence and difference as something to embrace and value. The project culminates in the final single and focus track 'We Are All Human', featuring a poignant speech by Rocket from her night 'Robyn's Rocket - a residency at cafe OTO featuring experimental music and live visuals by artists with and without Learning Disabilities/ autistic and non autistic artists ' in the speech rocket talks about supporting each other—words she actively lives by and encourages others to embrace. Like many autistic people, Rocket has experienced abuse, bullying, isolation and feeling unwelcome in the world. “This project is like my nights but you can carry it around with you”, she explains. “I started my own night to share my work. I also recognised, it was a privilege to have my own night, I wanted to help other artists share their work too, and create an environment where people with and without learning Disabilities/Autistic and non autistic people as audience and performers could come together and get to know each other”. Historical Context

Yuno's full-length debut, Blest, out May 16 on Sub Pop, finds the enigmatic indie-pop visionary transforming the emo-tinged suburban malaise of his 2018 Moodie EP into more expansive, widescreen pop drama - suited for big moves and bigger stages. The kaleidoscopic sound he devised as a millennial hermit in his childhood bedroom in Florida has since broadened his horizons, taking him on tour with Unknown Mortal Orchestra and Superorganism, and soundtracking various series for Netflix and HBO. Imbued with elements of dream-pop, rock, trap, and psychedelia, his eclectic songs serve as bids for love and connection, which especially in the fractured era of social media, have resonated with many listeners who find solace in his vulnerability. Yuno's superpower lies in the way he mines a multitude of genres for their pop potential and surfaces with a tapestry that feels novel and fresh. Take, for instance, "Blest," the immediate, blissful, and bright title track, which is inspired by Rich Harrison-breakbeats and Neptunes-esque jangle. Or the breezy single, "True," in which Yuno moderates a lover's quarrel with slick, trap percussion. Amid the breakbeated dream-rock of "Gimme Ocean," he introduces his guitar solo with a searing emo scream, run through an EarthQuaker Devices pedal. Don't let his sanguine aura or his sherbet pink wardrobe fool you; he can shred as hard as he wants to when he wants to. All songs on Blest were written and performed by Yuno, co-produced by Yuno and Frank Corr (Morning Silk), who also contributed keyboards, drums, and guitar throughout the record, with additional production and instrumentation by Patrick Wimberly (Chairlift) at The CRC in Brooklyn, and Nick Sanborn (Sylvan Esso) at Betty's in Durham, NC. Blest was mixed by Steve Vealey and mastered by Joe La Porta.

Berlin-based French-Irish multimedia artist Zoe Mc Pherson levels up on their third full-length "Pitch Blender", mangling years of experience DJing and performing live into a tight set of cybernetic soundsystem experiments that flicker between the rave and the art space.

Cast your mind back to February 2020 for a moment, when Mc Pherson released their last album "States of Fugue". The world seemed less tangled somehow, and yet Mc Pherson's precision-engineered fusion of exploratory sound design and visceral club pressure seemed to hint at a cataclysmic event none of us were really expecting. Only a few weeks after its release the world changed forever, and the majority of us were grounded - forced to consider our lives and the movement (or lack thereof) surrounding us. The philosophy of this extended time period is welded into the bones of "Pitch Blender", Mc Pherson's supple third album. They have learned plenty in the last two years, and infuse all of that anxiety and spiky emotionality into a spread of tracks that sound as powerful in headphones as they do over a well-tweaked soundsystem, soldering vocals, environmental recordings and instrumental flourishes to unpredictably pneumatic, cybernetic beats.

Anyone that's caught one of Mc Pherson's energetic live performances over the last few months will have an idea of what "Pitch Blender" is made of. They're an artist who's somehow able to match the raw energy of post-punk and no-wave music with the brain-altering potential of the best experimental club tracks, vocalizing an incongruous post-lockdown reality over beats that sound as if they're in a permanent state of flux. 'On Fire' splutters to life in a frenetic patter of drums that blur into oddly soothing hoover sounds, snaking lysergically towards a drop that's teased constantly, and never comes. We're forced to wait until 'The Spark' for that, fighting through choppy, pitch-mangled guitar and rolling beats until a gruesome kick drum forces its way through the psilocybin mists and heaving Bristol-inspired bass clonks. Backed up with just the inverted traces of recognizable breaks, this vigorous pulse lies at the heart of "Pitch Blender", the driving force that powers Mc Pherson's sound even when it's only hinted at.

'Blender' is the moment where Mc Pherson show their full hand, using crackling sound effects, ghost vocals and uneven rhythms to build a textural landscape that's so evocative you can almost taste it. Squealing modular synth effects sound like gameshow buzzers being triggered in another dimension and propel the track forward - it's club music, just about, but Mc Pherson's motivation is world-building, and their world is colorful, abstract, and dizzyingly surreal. "Obsolete user," their voice echoes over driving airlock kicks. But they take a swift left turn with 'Lamella', reducing the kinetic club rhythms to a longing simmer and letting loose with powerful vocals, intoning with robotic, gender-fluxed intensity. On 'Wait', New York City's clacking crosswalk signal - already an effective club track on its own - is transformed into a reminder to slow down, juxtaposed with booming sub-heavy kicks, acidic synths and effervescent percussion that rattles in time with the vibrations. It's foley rave, built for pure psychedelic intensity to blur the line between real life and sonic fiction.

One of the album's most galvanic tracks, 'Power Dynamics' curves a double-time rhythm around breathless HQ sound design squiggles until it hits a polyrhythmic crescendo, striking a queasy balance between rave hedonism and ritualistic hand drum energy. It all builds towards eerie closing track 'Outside' that acts as an important wind down, spotlighting Mc Pherson's ability to operate outside of the rhythmic spectrum, using cinematic scrapes and flickering neon synths to create music that's tense but never terrifying. The track feels like the end credits of a particularly bewildering movie - something between the cyberpunk dystopia of "Ghost in the Shell" and the vivid, sky-scraping beauty of "Koyaanisqatsi". Mc Pherson has managed something special with "Pitch Blender": mashing together genres with rare focus, and sharpening their engineering skills to a fine point, they've concocted an antidote to contemporary malaise - a wakeup call that's begging us to loosen our limbs and move.

"The album was created in this back and forth of snapshots - we made most of the decisions impulsively without much questioning. That takes a lot of trust." — Violeta García & Hora Lunga

"I'll Wait For You In The Car Park", the first full length collaboration between Argentinian cellist, improviser and composer Violeta García and Swiss musician and composer Hora Lunga, is a work of extremes. Drawing from the realities of life on two continents, and embodying moods ranging from stoic desire to violent bursts, the album enciphers so-called ordinary moments from everyday life into an alluring collection of musical scenes. Seemingly inconspicuous moments are condensed into a tale of synchronicity: colliding time zones and seasons, metropolitan rhythms raining down onto a glacier's ice field, exploring places through street view, the serendipity of loitering at a kiosk. As such, "I'll Wait For You In The Car Park" brings documentary film essays to mind that carefully observe the private and everyday occurrences.
Violeta García and Hora Lunga crossed paths by chance in 2023 and began discussing and sharing music shortly afterwards. What started as a loose exchange of ideas, sending back and forth sketches and demos between South America and Europe, grew into several studio sessions in 2024. Being sucked into a "quite extraordinary flow", the two musicians recorded, arranged and intervened on a level playing field, using the studio as a playground to record musical layers and interweave them with field recordings and audio notes gathered over the course of a year. Speaking a kindred musical language, they quickly realized how their ideas clung to each other like two familiar souls, complementing, intertwining and merging. From gauzy and eerie textures, musical miniatures floating through time, howling and screaming strings, to tumbling and thundering basses – the sound of the ordinary shapes a body that vibrates, writhes and breathes.

Violeta García is a cellist, improviser and composer from Buenos Aires, Argentina. Based in Spain, she tours a lot with her band Blanco Teta. She is a performer in many art forms, including free improvisation, contemporary and trans-media experimental repertoire in violoncello and electronics and collaborations with dancers, film makers and visual artists. After years of studying classical and popular music on violoncello and, later, contemporary composition and improvisation, Violeta has developed her own musical voice needed to emerge beyond outside specific genres.

Throughout Swiss composer and musician Hora Lunga's work, the focus lies is on exploring boundaries, both musically and in terms of performance and content. Above all, genre designations lose all meaning, as the music always takes place within a dramaturgically conceived overall framework. In recent years, his projects have ranged from pop music productions to experimental works and sound performances, as well astheatre and film productions. His ensemble WIRREN consists of up to fifteen performers.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

QUEENDOM is an album that marks a new era for the project while staying true to the essence of Minuit Machine. Produced under the SYNTH RELIGION label, this opus immerses us in Amandine's introspective realm, oscillating between darkness and light, between doubt and self-conquest. While retaining the emotional DNA of previous productions, QUEENDOM stands out with a more pop-oriented touch, featuring tracks where Amandine sings in French for the first time.

The first single, "HOLD ME," is a powerful pop anthem addressed to the queer community, celebrating the freedom to be oneself and breaking free from societal and patriarchal norms. This track is a true empowerment statement, with striking electro beats supporting a strong message of emancipation and pride.

"Créatures," a collaboration between RAUMM and Minuit Machine, is a modern fairy tale—a timeless love story that could take place in any era. This salvific love, rarely seen today, embodies a poignant depth and beauty.

Continuing the journey, "Cent Fois"—a French-written track—takes us into a techno-pop universe with nostalgic yet hopeful undertones. This song perfectly reflects Minuit Machine's evolution toward a more radiant approach while staying faithful to its dark heritage.

"Party People," on the other hand, is a return to roots with dark wave/italo sounds. This hypnotic and haunting track questions identity in an increasingly robotic society, where individuals are forced to conform to imposed norms. This exploration of the individual versus the collective lies at the core of Minuit Machine's DNA.

"Mes Souvenirs," created in collaboration with Rebeka Warrior, dives intimately into the memories of Amandine and Rebeka. Together, they reveal fragments of their past—precious and vibrant memories that resonate through powerful and melancholic electro sounds.

Finally, the eponymous track "Queendom" invites us to plunge into the depths of Amandine's world—a universe that is both tormented and icy, yet resilient. Supported by a slow and captivating rhythm, this track is designed to grip and haunt the listener, like an incantation.

QUEENDOM is a bold and hybrid work where each track reflects a pursuit of sincerity and artistic reinvention while maintaining the ability to express emotions through rhythms that are both danceable and introspective. The album showcases Minuit Machine's artistic maturity, establishing itself as a must-listen in the darkwave and electronic pop scene.

Amandine entrusted the artistic direction of this album to Manon Dupeyrat, a brilliant young artist who crafted a bespoke universe perfectly aligned with the produced tracks. The album cover, both intimate and anachronistic, invites listeners into Amandine's private world through her bedroom, revealing what she wishes to share.

"Ital Breakfast" (1996) ist ein weiterer Dub Syndicate-Klassiker, bei dem Style Scott noch mehr jamaikanische Topmusiker zusammenbrachte, darunter Mitglieder von Roots Radics, Soul Syndicate, Joe Gibbs' Professionals und Bunny Lee's Aggrovators. Dieses unglaubliche Erbe wird durch Adrian Sherwoods Arbeit am Mischpult ergänzt, bei der er die Londoner Musiker Skip McDonald und Akabu overdubbte und seine Klangmagie auf das Rohmaterial wirken ließ – eine echte transatlantische Dub-Zusammenarbeit. Die LP enthält zudem einen Cameo-Auftritt des legendären DJs I Roy auf dem Titeltrack sowie ein Gastfeature von Lee "Scratch" Perry auf "The Captain's Trance Mission". Das seit langem vergriffene Vinylformat wurde von Frank Merritt im The Carvery neu geschnitten und enthält rare Fotos von Coneyl Jay und neue Linernotes von Rob Harris (Testpressung).

Baby Rose makes healing music for the aimless and heartbroken. The Grammy-nominated singer/songwriter and producer's uniquely rich voice naturally lends itself to her powerful, smoke-filled ballads lamenting lost loves and broken futures. "I make music to help myself get through things," she says. The piercing honesty and vulnerability she brings to her lyrics in turn helps others process their feelings and find a place of healing. For Rose, it's a journey that's still ongoing. "If I'm going to leave anything behind, it's going to be getting people back to themselves," she says. "As I get back to myself, it's a constant reset: Remember who you are, remember who you want to be." You can hear the impact of this approach in Baby Rose's upcoming second album, Through and Through. Take the hypnotic "Fight Club." Over the track's simmering baseline and crashing cymbals, she declares, "I don't need no one else to show me the way." She describes the song as a "breaking of the shell. It encourages me to just go for it and not care about what anyone else thinks." Therein lies Baby Rose's strength: a determination to live, love, and create on her own terms. "I'm not just a singer with a unique voice," she says. "I'm somebody that has something to say." In the years since releasing her last album, To Myself, Rose has been painstakingly piecing together its sequel. Started almost immediately after its release, her new body of work finds her in a state of musical and personal transition. It's a subtle merging of new sounds_stirring rock, upbeat r&b, psychedelic funk, pop, and soulful ballads_, all mastered through analog tape to make the music feel warmer and all-encompassing. It's also a journey inward as she battles past fear and self-doubt to finally discover_and love_who she is, where she is. Finishing an album with such peace and firm resolution is a first for Rose, but she makes it clear: She's nowhere near done writing her story. "I think as long as I'm being raw and trying to push past my comfort zone, it will feel rewarding," she says. "I don't want to be the type that doesn't take risks because I'm afraid. I have to trust that as long as the music is honest and innovative, it'll be timeless."

“Where is this? It looks like the grounds of a shrine. Like a deep, dark, forest. I'm wandering around. I can't get over the feeling that I've been to this place before. The temple and the tower look much bigger than usual, and I feel as if I were lost in a world of immensity. It's very dark with no sky up above, like being in the depths of the Earth. Anyway, it's a world I know.” - Leisure, the Sonorous Dream

For schuttle’s next unearthly contribution, we invite you to slip into the reassuring comforts of the simulated realm. Herein lies an open invitation to all of those tentative travellers willing to join us as we revel in four slices of post-biological optimism.

The world building begins with “Splan”. schuttle’s navigation vessel hovers steadily above a fractal landscape until a divine arp propels us skywards. We burst through the latent cloudsphere to marvel at the boundless synergy of the interlocking polygons. The sunburst gradient barely has time to load before an oscillating wriggle plunges us into a strangely familiar stomping ground. Hedonistic NPCs begin spawning at random, splurging joyful machine funk at each other before walking gleefully into walls. Finally, with a little help from a well known toad, schuttle unleashes the full might of his Mana on the nascent gathering.

We dock next in ‘Melonweed Musick’. Our vessel gently stirring the reeds as we descend into the marshland. The potent aroma of the swamp fills our nostrils, various apparitions seem to wriggle into view. What have we been inhaling? No time to consider, the loose murk of the breakbeat is starting to take effect and it’s all we can do to keep one foot squelching after the other. As we submit wholeheartedly to the sheer depth and clarity of the bassline, a kindly angel sweeps above the sphagnum, spraying a succession of cleansing chords over our slimy bodies. Refreshed with some useful navigation advice we continue.

In ‘Kitchen Sync’ our craft’s speedometer is tickled up to a cruising 120bpm. The world outside our window begins to swim with colour, prickly forms materialise then dissipate around us. The familiar shape of our old friend, the high priest 303 appears before us, steadying the ship. Its resonant flame warming our hearth, and our hearts too. Then begins a beautiful communion of the domestic and the otherworldly, through the interplay of acid under glimmering keys. Provoking within us an uncontrollable desire to open our curtains, to cast off our slippers and embrace the infinite morrow.

Our voyage concludes with ‘Inspo 2000’. Scintillating landing lights guide us toward our destination, our descent beckoned by woody and playful percussion. We tumble through the troposphere, our landing cushioned by the buoyancy of the gated chords, the kicks juicing what's left of our dwindling fuel supply. A luxurious breakdown brings the ground into focus. Perhaps this is home? The simulation is now so accurate that it seems pointless to question it, it is a world we have always known.