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Punctual like a Swiss watch, Driftmachine presents a new album that once again astounds and delights. We know their trademark: solid mechanical percussions, forceful bass and melodies systematically built around circular patterns. "Spume & Recollection" is the sixth Umor Rex album by the Berlin duo, and what better way to celebrate the label's 15th anniversary than with a new record from the masters of labyrinthine cables and patches. Regarding "Nocturnes" (UR 2014), their debut album, we described their sound as precise and symmetrical, identical concrete blocks mounted and articulated in a random order. Their already obsessive style continued to evolve with their third record, "Colliding Contours" (UR 2016), now pushing further into abstract dub, ultra-tense grooves, and even more kinetic loops, moving further away from conventional musical structures. Between these two albums they released the remarkable "Eis Heauton" (UR 2015), a kind of hypnotic experiment informed by shadowy atmospheres, chance, and an intuitive dialogue with their musical machines, a unique situation in which they acted as bemused observers in hunt for epiphanies, resulting in an exquisite amalgamation of lucid dream-logic and mechanical precision. A one-of-a-kind soundtrack for minute and wordless scenes unfolding in pitch-black back alleys and hidden, alchemical basements. A similar map was explored with "Shunter" (UR 2018), a superb secret meeting between avant-garde phantasmagoria and concrete experimentation. "Radiations" (UR 2017) offered B-sides and bonus tracks, in addition to collaborations with Shackleton and The Sight Below, a kind of preamble that united Driftmachine’s different expressions and leanings.

When Andreas Gerth and Florian Zimmer come up with new material, one listens with high expectation. Looking back on their discography, one could safely anticipate a high quality album densely layered with their familiar leitmotifs. And yet, "Spume & Recollection" takes us by surprise and finds a new way to transfix. Fresh methods and ideas are introduced to their dynamics and formula. Yes, of course, you can still expect a healthy dose of kosmische, which is one of the dominant features in Driftmachine’s DNA; but this is now entwined with novel materials, semi-material patterns of alien code stretching over exhilaratingly tense and detailed grooves, clouds of gas shifting on top of deep dub architecture and blocking out the sun for prismatic effect. Even more of a surprise is the immediate, streamlined nature of these tracks, making "Spume & Recollection" their most accessible record and, perhaps, the most addictive (and this without sacrificing the essential mystery and strangeness at the core of Driftmachine’s sound).

We have previously described their work as post-industrial-dub; right now, we might just call it hypno-music for man and machine to dance and dream together. "Spume & Recollection" takes this concept as far as it can go without breaking, and finds some strange new feelings, and weirdly danceable grooves, to shed some light on this dark and dazzling ride.

All songs written & produced by Andreas Gerth & Florian Zimmer in Berlin Mastered by John Tejada Artwork & Photos by Daniel Castrejón

Following ‘Heirloomʼ, which came out on E. Sagglia and Death Kneelʼs now defunct Summer Isle label in 2018, ‘The Cormorantʼ is the latest album by Australian native Jason Campbell.

After taking exactly a year to complete, Campbell perceives the work on ‘The Cormorantʼ as “a document of small-town Australia, concerned with the natural environment and the rugged coastline that I call home.”

The sounds of his native Australian domain, located by the coastlines of New South Wales, are meticulously explored and dissected throughout the entire album, where ocean swells or conversations at the local food court are layered onto sequences of violin tremolos, detuned cymbals and delayed piano chords.

Throughout the albums run time, ‘The Cormorantʼ encompasses a destructive sonic realm of its own, and yet the pieces also manages to stands out individually; from the highly emotive opening ‘Emerge Againʼ, which features an accelerative volley of machine clatter and pitch shifted choruses, slowly merging into a bed of candid breaths and piano chords, to the deeply emotive, corrosive title track ‘The Cormorantʼ and the albums pre-culminating reprieve ‘A Fallen Eucalyptʼ, each piece showcases a unique, riveting sonic investigation of J. Campbellʼs coastal home.

In the end, ‘The Cormorantʼ is the culmination of a sincere, introspective and deeply invigorating journey, resulting in an album that is not merely about the examination of oneʼs topography, but about passion, existence and self- discovery.

A collection of songs / mixtape from Sunun + Jiinx - made up of all their own material, a combination of fully realised songs (some of which you might recognise from earlier outings on BKV, Idle Hands, Euphonic Rhythms etc) as well as unheard demos / ideas and alternate versions. The mix was compiled by Jiinx over a period of nightshifts - sat in his (now cubed) car with the computer running through the stereo. You can hear the dry eyes as the tape moves through sleep deprived jungle to new-age and ambient interludes - with voices (including Sunun's own) moving in and out like real world sounds intruding into a dream (there's also a cameo from Jiinx's daughter). The tape operates in the spaces between waking and sleeping and night and day - and manages to walk the line between euphoric rave afterglow and sleepless sickness and disorientation. Definitely one for the shift workers / ravers / insomniacs. Dedicated to the roofless Beemer.

Ian McDonnell is an Irish producer living in Wicklow near Dublin. Alongside his solo releases as Eomac he's also one half of the duos Lakker, noeverything and Lena Andersson. 'Cracks' represents a change of scenery and a change of practice from his previous two albums which were both conceptualised from the outset and recorded while living in Berlin. In contrast 'Cracks' was made in a beautiful rural part of Ireland without any outside pressure. These circumstances allowed Ian to wipe the slate clean and make an album guided by his mood on any particular day, connecting into the subtle power of his new environment and reflecting it, rather than working to please the suffocating demands of clublife. The title 'Cracks' comes from the idea that, to quote Leonard Cohen, a crack is "how the light gets in", but also of course it's a title that bears witness to the cracks fomenting in the world right now. The music comes across with depth and passion, sounding deep and mossy with Eomac's penchant for punchy, shuffling drums underpinning the emotive tracks. From the off, the furious 'Mandate For Murder' flips and repeats Akala's protest about systemic racism, rushing deep into the panicked sirens of 'Portuguese Man O' War'. The album settles into a sense of mystery, wildness and dark otherworldliness with the foggy drone and timber kick of 'Ancient Self' reflecting the awe and spiritual connections to his new environment, much like the gorgeous strings and aqueous bleeps of 'Seashells' or the pitch-shifted shoegaze of 'Prophetess'. At other points it responds to the human condition, for instance the cathartic 'Falling Through the Cracks' where a broken scream is pitted against clattering drums. At other moments it simply reaches out; 'Reasons to Live's' whispered mantra of "I know you are loved by somebody" is gently insistent. It ends with a reference to a place he's left behind, seen through the lens of nature. 'All the Rabbits in the Tiergarten' could be a missing track from Aphex's Ambient Works, albeit with cut-up scissoring drums. The album is a fruitful move, inwards and forwards.

Marc Barreca's 1986 album "The Sleeper Wakes". Originally released on cassette by the Seattle electronic ambient label, Intrepid.

Marc Barreca has been creating and performing electronic music since the mid-1970s. His 1980 album, Twilight, reissued on vinyl in 2016, was one of the earliest releases on Palace Of Lights. Recent releases include Shadow Aesthetics (2018) and three collaborations with K. Leimer. Previous reissues include work on the acclaimed VOD box set American Cassette Culture, the Cherry Red compilation of seminal U.S. electronic music and the 1983 cassette, Music Works For Industry. His work is also included in the collection of The British Library."

The Sleeper Wakes has been out of print for many years and we are very happy to remaster and reissue this great work that was ahead of it's time, employing analog treatments of sampled sounds arranged in a very interesting and intuitive way.

Written with a libidinal urgency that has come to characterize Kool Keith’s legendary lyricism, “Keith’s Salon” explores our current obsessions with luxury, beauty, and notoriety. But rather than fetishize the beautiful dum-dums who walk red carpets in black Prada gowns,

Kool Keith's most recent studio album shifts our attention to the work and workers that underpin our fantasies of American excess and the good life.

As such, the album is also a timely meditation, during quarantine, on the economic precarity many of us now find ourselves in. Having doubled-up with Triple Parked, the production team of avant-techno maven Bruno Pronsato and Benjamin Jay, “Keith’s Salon” moves between halcyon sonics and atonal warlord dystopia, while keeping beats minimal for Kool Keith to spread extra ketchup on the hamburger. An album at once topical and futuristic, lush and bizarre, "Keith's Salon" is about the business of making people beautiful. It's time to work.

Ulna’s OEA is a “bar-rock getting sober record.“ The first full length solo record of Ulna, aka Adam Schubert of Cafe Racer, OEA is an ode to reinvention. Along with the release comes a rebranding--formerly Ruins, Schubert’s new pseudonym ULNA is a reference to a pivotal moment in his childhood. At the age of 14, Schubert shattered the bone on the inside of his forearm in a skating accident, and took up the guitar. “That’s what made me serious about playing music,” says Schubert.

This name change also accompanied Schubert’s shift towards sobriety--OEA was created right as Schubert reconfigured his life without drugs or alcohol. With the exception of the final track, “Dead Friends,” the whole album was written while in a recovery program. “You have to reinvent your whole personality, you have to be a different person,” says Schubert.”Who am I if I’m not the crazy drunk dude who’s doing drugs in the bathroom?”

OEA is an intensely personal record, in subject matter but also quite literally--Schubert plays every instrument, though the record feels far from a home-demo, recorded and mastered by Robby Hanes at Strange Magic Recording in Chicago’s Logan Square. Schubert’s songs are ambling and full of picked guitar and retro harmonies, a stylistic sensibility he attributes to a love for the Beatles and “acoustic rock with a weird punk edge,” a-la Big Thief and Kurt Vile. Though instrumentally sunny, his vocals hint at something else - there’s an underlying ache. OEA is an easy listen, but with a depth of emotion that demands listeners’ attention.

OEA explores the range of emotions experienced in the transition to sobriety, from fear to backslide to self doubt. At first listen, “Turn The Record On” feels almost like a love song, with a chorus of “turn the record on/ you’re my favorite song,” but in actuality the song is the story of an empty encounter rather than romance. “It’s kind of about this sad hookup with someone else who is equal in your addiction, you’re just using each other because you don’t want to be alone in your using,” says Schubert. “We both have this problem and we can have fun in it together because we both understand. They know the score.”

While “Turn The Record On” speaks to a moment of shared addiction, other tracks examine what comes after sobriety. “And I took the pill like I should / and I stayed clean just like I said I would,” begins “Last Song,” which Schubert cites as one of the hardest tracks to write. “I got sober and I take medication and - I’m doing all this stuff now but nothing’s changed,” says Schubert. “ I think that’s pretty common in people who get sober. I did all this stuff and now what?”

The penultimate track on the album, “Last Song” fades into a noisy interlude that gives listeners the feeling of motion, like entering a tunnel and emerging into a quieter, lo-fi recording, the closing track “Dead Friends.” The only non-studio track, “Dead Friends” was recorded in Schubert’s home, and carries with it a warm intimacy. “I wanted it to sound like you’re outside somewhere, you're walking, and you step inside somewhere that feels safe,” says Schubert.

This closing track embodies the mood of OEA- warm but with a melancholy edge, like coming in from the cold but still feeling a lingering chill. It’s an album that feels comfortable and cohesive--though individual tracks stand alone, OEA works best when listened through start to finish. It’s a record to put on while cooking dinner and let sink in.

Shura announces a deluxe version of her acclaimed 2019 album
‘forevher’, released via Secretly Canadian.
‘forevher: Deluxe Edition’ is released on cassette and features the
eleven original album tracks with nine extras. These include acoustic
versions of five album tracks recorded and produced with Sam Evian
and featuring Hannah Cohen on backing vocals, previous Bandcamp
single ‘magazine launch (demo)’, last year’s collaborative single
‘elevator girl’ featuring Ivy Sole and two unreleased tracks including
‘obsession’.
On ‘obsession’, Shura explains: “‘obsession’ was one of the songs I
wrote whilst I was writing ‘forevher’. I always wanted it to be a duet
between two women but it never came to fruition during the recording
process. Then, when I toured ‘forevher’ in Europe, Rosie Lowe came
with us and we’d always spoken about wanting to collaborate on
something together and I suddenly remembered this song, which I loved
but had somehow never finished. I sent the track across to Ro and when
she sent back her rough take I was like ‘YES. this is it.’”
With ‘forevher’, Shura’s immediately identifiable way with love, touch and
how we talk about it reached even greater creative heights. Having
moved from West London to New York following her adored 2016 debut,
,Nothing’s Real,, it’s all mirrored in a lyrical journey from rejection and
loss to desire, long-distance love and the prospect of how we make
something real actually work.
In 2020, Shura emerged as one of contemporary pop’s accidental
trailblazers. A frank, funny voice in the LGBTQ+ community whose
contribution to the paradigm-shift in the cultural landscape cannot be
underestimated.
Written primarily about Shura’s relationship with her girlfriend and their
long-distance conception, ‘forevher’ traces everything from the initial pull
of desire to that first real life meeting (‘the stage’), before recognising
when the connection develops into something scarily meaningful. It’s a
classic NYC-to-London love story but one told through the totally modern
filter of dating apps, unanswered texts, Skype chats and MUNA gigs.
And whilst how to live - and love - as a queer woman has always been
integral to Shura, it’s remarkable to hear these stories twisted through
such a gorgeous amalgam of influences: Joni Mitchell and Minnie
Riperton, Bon Iver and Frank Ocean, Prince and Ariel Pink. Through
these inspirations, Shura’s own modern, outlier perspective found a
newer, more daring approach to sound and song.

Captain Rip Hayman (b.1951, New Mexico) has come ashore again, bearing fresh cargo. A student of John Cage, Ravi Shankar, and Philip Corner, Rip was a founding editor of the notable Ear Magazine (1975-1991), and since 1977 he has run New York's oldest bar, the Ear Inn. The focused minimalism of his new LP Waves: Real and Imagined varies from the collaged spectacle of his first Recital LP, Dreams of India & China (2019).

This oceanic dish holds two side-long works: “Waves for Flutes,” a multi-tracked flute composition recorded by the artist in 1977. ‘Angelic’, ‘Grave’, and ‘Sad’ modes overlap an effect of medieval choral organum, as shifting patterns evoke water and wind variations of the shore and vast sea beyond. An enchanting and arresting piece.

The second side holds “Seascapes,” which was recorded on the Pacific ocean in February and March of 2020 – through calm seas and tempestuous storms. The ship as the instrument played by the sea. We feel both lost and saved when at sea, the landfall feared or longed for.

The album is dedicated to all those whose souls have been lost and found at sea amidst the waves, for each sea wave is a child of Oceanus & Tethys, Greek gods of the sea, every one sent on their way to play...

Moving into 2021 Pure Space is excited to deliver another year of Australian electronic music. Lately we’ve found therapy through regular body movement to help us see that better days are ahead. We hope you feel this too with this new release…

For our first release of the year, Melbourne’s Third Space captures his most club-focussed exploration to date. It offers a broad path which melts genres, instead showing us an alternate domain.

Having started his own label ‘Nice Setting’ in 2020 and self-releasing an album and an EP, Third Space has established his sound of complex undulating rhythms. For his release on Pure Space, ‘Pattern of Spring’ continues this exploration of dramatic structures with continually shifting timbres - morphing them as they progress through energies, rumbles, and struck surfaces.

The two A-side tracks are powerful displays of organic instrumentation with fluttering pads and subtle resonations. An upbeat tempo and abright atmosphere underpins the opening side, anchored by dnb leaning programming and off-kilter polymetric rhythms.

‘170 Shitshow’ showcases complex percussion underwritten by a formidable resonating karplus-strong section throughout the track. Whilst ‘Pulsing Delay Mod’ builds upon this notion of polymetric rhythms continually at play with one another, it offers a crisp and menacing drum pattern pulsating amongst metallic timbres.

Flipping to the B-sides; ‘Cyclical Pan Workout’ reflects an unruly and evolving atmosphere, anchored by a wonderfully cerebral drum pattern and delicate pad toward the close.

The final track ‘Nonlinear (For Pillows)’ offers re-contextualised melodies and percussion, providing a sense of closure and sonic bookending by linking tones and timbres referenced throughout the EP into a pillow like state.

Nick Lapien and Robin Koek's latest collaborative album, Days Bygone, helps launch Delsin's Interstellar Series as they continue to explore beyond the dancefloor trappings of conventional techno to create a body of work steeped in mystery. Although not totally devoid of percussion, Artefakt shift their focus away from dominant drums and lean on the keys and pads to map out the landscape each track traverses. Sometimes furtive and suggestive, elsewhere pearlescent and diffused across great expanses, it's these striking, sublime formations which define the atmosphere Lapien and Koek have created - a textured, dynamic exercise in techno as internalized listening music.

Be With is delighted to present Jorge López Ruiz’s El Grito (Suite Para Orquesta De Jazz), eternal Argentinian magic released on CBS in 1967 that must be one of the most sought-after South American jazz LPs.

Living in Buenos Aires in the 60s, driven by creative impulse and rage Jorge López Ruiz used music as his platform to protest the Argentine military dictatorship: “I could never stand dictatorships, to be told how you have to think, what you have to do. Nor did I endure discrimination”.

A young López Ruiz had appeared on a television panel alongside writer, politician and philosopher Arturo Jauretche, criticising the Onganía dictatorship. Jauretche told López Ruiz “Now say it with music”. This was the deep inhale that lead to El Grito, literally “The Scream”. As López Ruiz later explained “Jauretche urged me that my protests should not remain in words and acquire the consistency of a work… but it was not so much what he told me but how he told me, what prompted me to make the work take shape, first in a live concert and then in a recording”.

As the police and military began resorting to kidnapping, torture and summary executions to quiet dissent, with depressing inevitability the artist community and their work were a particular target of the increasingly brutal regime. El Grito was banned not long after it was released and the majority of original copies were unceremoniously destroyed.

The work of a genius artist living under an opressive dictatorship, erased by the government of the time, this is buried treasure in every sense and it’s been a rare record for over 50 years. But it isn’t just being hard to find that has pushed up the prices of those few original copies that survived, this is a foundational record in the development of jazz in South America.

El Grito (Suite Para Orquesta De Jazz) is a showcase for Jorge López Ruiz’s skills as a composer and arranger as he leads a virtuoso orchestra of the likes of Mario Cosentino (alto sax), Baby López Furst (piano), Pichi Mazzei (drums), Gustavo Bergalli (trumpet), Oscar López Ruiz (guitar), Arturo Schneider (flute) and Jorge López Ruiz himself plays double bass on the fourth and fifth movements.

As the album’s sub-title explains, The album is a Jazz orchestra concept suite. Five movements, to be heard as a whole, that end where they begin.

“When I wrote it there was no history of a cyclical work in jazz. But I didn't notice that, I needed to express something and I did it. At that time they told me I was crazy, that such a thing was very difficult to do. But hey, I like challenges”.

Yet this is not challenging jazz. There are certainly avant garde, free jazz flourishes, but the hard bop characteristics make this a very accessible album: easy to listen to without being easy listening. López Ruiz’s love of film brings a definite cinematic feel.

The title movement opens the album in bombastic style. “El Grito” grabs you by the lapels and refuses to let go. Raw then controlled, it’s by turns stabbing then soothing, with rage weaved in and out of the elegant styles. “M.A.B. = Amor” is our favourite here. With a tense introduction and a patient build, a gentle sax sweeps in to lift everything up to meet the serene piano and soft drums. Elegantly paced, it moves back and forth between deep contemplation and a more urgent call and response between strings and horns. A near-eight-minute, slow motion marvel.

The second side eases in with the beautifully-titled “Hasta El Cielo, Sin Nubes, Con Todas Las Estrellas” (“Up To The Sky, No Clouds, With All The Stars”) a relatively brief mid-tempo piece featuring López Ruiz’s insistent bass notes high in the mix, and again blending the sublime with the emotive with its wild horns and tight rhythm section.

It’s followed by “Tendré El Mundo” (“I Will Have The World”) which also leads with hypnotic bass, but this time swifter, driven by crashing drums, rapid horn conversations and effortlessly cool piano flourishes. Rounding out the suite, “De Nuevo El Grito” (something like “The Next Scream” or “The Scream Renewed”) is a stylish closer. Whilst López Ruiz’s bass shifts the track along, the horns and piano are more restrained, yet no less stunning.

This Be With edition of El Grito sounds sensational, if we do say so ourselves. Working with audio from the original analogue tapes, the vinyl mastering chops of Simon Francis are on full show here in what he considers to be some of his best ever work for Be With. Pete Norman’s cutting skills have made sure nothing is lost. The tortured artwork has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to helping this revered work find a rightful place in every protest art collection.

Delving into the recent past in order to revisit forward-thinking projects that, owing to the social, musical or outright political climate, struggled to find an audience, Lost Futures returns with a record from Cairo based project, PanSTARRS. An assured and intriguing blend of post-punk and electronics, 'Ghaby Ghaby Ghaby' is the confident and personal work of Youssef Abouzeid, a fixture within Egypt's unique underground music scene.

"At the time, I was actively occupied by arguments on the fusion of culture in creative context, specifically between western and arabic elements." recalls PanSTARRS founder, Youssef Abouzeid. "The goal was to find a point of natural expression within Arabic songwriting that meets electronic guitar music, and put out something seriously inspired by both and easy on my ear."

By far the heaviest release from the PanSTARRS project at the time, 'Ghaby Ghaby Ghaby' immediately establishes a superior sense of rhythm. 'Khally Balak Hatmoot' practises instant hypnosis, Abouzeid's earnest vocals beckoning outsiders forward over a layer of feedback occupied by a ghostly shift, one which breaks to release a crescendo of post-punk guitar. This sense of subtle drama continues on 'Men Gheir Wa7da', demonstrating a skill for songwriting that recalls the uncompromising approach of The Birthday Party or Lydia Lunch.

'Tortit Naml' is driven by skittish, rapid-fire drums and tense guitars, either subverting or confirming it's subtly anthemic status with a dramatic explosion of feedback. 'Sala Ya Khaifa' brings respite, a mellow and earnest slow-burner, the bubbling spoils of the PanSTARRS studio providing a wistful texture drenched in reverb. Finally, '70mar 3ala 7osan' sees Abouzeid give his voice over to those same machines, burying his barbed perspective in contrary analogue bliss.

Half a decade later, Abouzeid's optimism and experimentation are certain to resonate on a scale beyond that of Cairo's defiant underground music scene.

"Working on everything myself, I enjoyed total creative freedom and kept an organic flow of dirt and error, which was key on this record", recalls Abouzeid. "Sometimes vocals were recorded as lyrics came spontaneously, sometimes written on paper and then recorded on first takes, but I always prioritized the moment while keeping the perspective in check."

Los Angeles-based harpist Mary Lattimore returns with Silver Ladders, the full-length follow-up to acclaimed album Hundreds of Days. Since 2018, Lattimore has toured internationally, released collaborative albums with artists such as Meg Baird and Mac McCaughan, and shared a friends-based remix album featuring artists such as Jónsi and Julianna Barwick. At one of her festival appearances, Lattimore met Slowdive’s Neil Halstead: “A friend introduced us because she knew how big of a fan I was and Neil and I had a little chat... The next day, I just thought maybe he’d be into producing my next record.” He was. Lattimore traditionally records her albums holed up by herself, so the addition of Halstead’s touches as a producer and collaborator leave a profound trace. “I flew on a little plane to Newquay in Cornwall where he lives with his lovely partner Ingrid and their baby. I didn’t know what his studio was like, he’d never recorded a harp, but somehow it really worked

Recorded over nine days at Halstead’s studio stationed on an old airfield, Silver Ladders finds Lattimore exercising command and restraint. Her signature style is refined, the sprawling layers of harp reigned in and accented by flourishes of low end synth and Halstead’s guitar. The music can feel ominous but not by compromising vivid wonder, like oceanic overtones that shift with the tides. This material is colored by specific memories for Lattimore; “Neil has this poster of a surfer in his studio and I’d look at it each day, looking at the sunlight glinting on the dark wave. In these songs I like the contrast between the dark lows and the glittering highs. The gloom and the glimmer, the opposites, a lively surfing town in the winter turned kinda rainy and empty and quiet.”

Lattimore and Halstead reformed three existing demos and improvised the remaining four songs. Among the batch she brought with her, the title track recalls a trip she took to Stari Grad, Croatia on the island of Hvar. “I spent some days there just swimming in the bay, silver ladders right into the sea.” The image stuck with her when she found herself performing at a cliffside wedding overlooking the Pacific. “Before anyone showed up, I had time to set up and play and this song came to me, ‘Silver Ladders (to the sea)’, so I made a little recording on my phone to remember it.” This sketch expanded; a delicately glittering harp melody comes over the horizon, swelling and rolling towards the shore on ebbs of synth and refractory delay.

Crumb’s second album, Ice Melt, takes its name from the coarse blend of salts that you can buy from your local hardware store for $9.99. When sprinkled on your wintry steps, this mixture absorbs water and gives off heat, transforming the ice into a viscous, briney


slush and, eventually, nothing at all. Beginning with the dynamic chaos of “Up & Down,” and ending with Crumb’s closest thing to a lullaby, Ice Melt’ s ten tracks combine, like ice sculptures melting into a glistening puddle.

From the start, the group knew that cohesion was best achieved through plumbing their individual strengths— frontwoman Lila Ramani’s earliest songwriting, which catalyzed the group’s first two EPs; Bri Aronow’s knack for building (dis)affecting soundscapes; the hypnotic grounding of Jonathan Gilad’s drums, a Crumb mainstay; and Jesse Brotter’s distinctive bass playing, which subtly traces Ramani’s vocal melodies while providing an unrelenting pulse. These collective skills make Crumb a project of independent self-discovery, four creative minds converging around an idea that is always shifting and reforming.

Convening in Los Angeles to work with producer Jonathan Rado, Crumb tapped into atmosphere-creation like never before, building experimental compositions that are at turns head-nodding and surrealist, energetic and euphoric. Ramani characterizes the album as a “return back down to earth,” a deeply felt examination of “real substances and beings that live on this planet.” It is also the cultivation of road-worn musicians exploring brand-new sounds and thematic concepts, pushing themselves into territory they could never have anticipated five years ago.

Crumb’s second album, Ice Melt, takes its name from the coarse blend of salts that you can buy from your local hardware store for $9.99. When sprinkled on your wintry steps, this mixture absorbs water and gives off heat, transforming the ice into a viscous, briney


slush and, eventually, nothing at all. Beginning with the dynamic chaos of “Up & Down,” and ending with Crumb’s closest thing to a lullaby, Ice Melt’ s ten tracks combine, like ice sculptures melting into a glistening puddle.

From the start, the group knew that cohesion was best achieved through plumbing their individual strengths— frontwoman Lila Ramani’s earliest songwriting, which catalyzed the group’s first two EPs; Bri Aronow’s knack for building (dis)affecting soundscapes; the hypnotic grounding of Jonathan Gilad’s drums, a Crumb mainstay; and Jesse Brotter’s distinctive bass playing, which subtly traces Ramani’s vocal melodies while providing an unrelenting pulse. These collective skills make Crumb a project of independent self-discovery, four creative minds converging around an idea that is always shifting and reforming.

Convening in Los Angeles to work with producer Jonathan Rado, Crumb tapped into atmosphere-creation like never before, building experimental compositions that are at turns head-nodding and surrealist, energetic and euphoric. Ramani characterizes the album as a “return back down to earth,” a deeply felt examination of “real substances and beings that live on this planet.” It is also the cultivation of road-worn musicians exploring brand-new sounds and thematic concepts, pushing themselves into territory they could never have anticipated five years ago.

Few Danish bands have been so far around the block at such a young age as Communions.

In 2014, while still in highschool and still shaking dust from the rafters of Mayhem — Copenhagen’s famed underground venue — Communions released their debut EP Cobblestones. The release marked the beginning of a long and productive streak for the band,


who followed it up with the 2015 Communions EP, the 2017 album Blue, a string of self-released singles and an EP, Flesh and Gore, Dream and Vapor, in 2019. Now Communions have joined Tambourhinoceros with a new, reshaped constellation.

Communions’ Rehof brothers — Martin (vocals and guitar) and Mads (Bass) — have decided to continue at the helm of the band after the departure of their long-time bandmates Jacob van Deurs Formann and Frederik Lind Köppen (although the two still feature in the forthcoming Communions recordings). Letting their brotherly musical connection take center stage, the Rehof brothers have assembled a new five piece constellation around themselves going forwards, adding even more depth to their indie rock.

Communions’s early work drew inspiration from the underground scene’s punk cynicism, evidenced by their lofi debut EP which was recorded — with amps blaring — straight onto a USB microphone. Communions’ next two EPs and debut album saw the band refine their craft of songwriting and production while riding a wave of international attention and festival performances. Their forthcoming music now represents another shift in the Communions aesthetic. Marked by sharp cultural criticism, self reflection, and artistic commentary of a grand scale, Communions’ new music takes the signature indie rock from the dark clubs of their youth and merges it with full-fleshed cerebral critique and symbolism.

Veteran NYC based Scottish electronic musician Drew McDowall's latest work is his loftiest, most liturgical, and least industrial outing to date —and potentially the apex of his recent discography.Named after an ancient Greek word for votive offering, Agalmaexudes a hooded, devotional aura, creaking and keeling under vast rafters of stone, stained glass, and shredded wires. It's a music of majesty and mystery but also modernity, McDowall's refined modular system shape-shifting strings, piano, pipe organ, and choral masses into disorienting synthetic mirages of the sacred. He cites the intersection of “joy, terror, and the elegiac” as a centering inspiration –or, phrased more bluntly, “that 'what the fuck is going on' feeling.”



As a career collaborator himself, with stints in Coil, Psychic TV, and countless other shorter-lived partnerships, it's telling that McDowall chose this project to gather such an impressive spectrum of peers. Italian synthesist Caterina Barbieri, American drone organist Kali Malone, prolific multi-instrumentalistRobert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, operatic Humanbeast vocalist Maralie Armstrong-Rial, Saudi producer MSYLMA, and warped futurist beat-makers Bashar Suleiman and Elvin Brandhi cameo across the album's 42 minutes, contouring McDowall's nuanced negative spaces with shudders, shadows, and shivering flickers of serenity. Each of them shines in their spotlight, elevating these elusive alchemical states into surreal revelations of texture and transcendence.



McDowall's original working title for the record is revealing: Ritual Music.He speaks of his creative practice in ceremonial terms, negating binaries by seeking the middle path to anuminousequilibrium that erases the distinction between the inner and outer worlds.These compositions feel similarly processional and intuitive, at the crossroads of holiness and hallucination, the sacred vertigo of yawning naves rising into untouchable night skies. It's a vision of industrial music as enigma and invocation, cryptic hymnals of shroudedbeautysummoned in catacombs and crumbling cathedrals.



Despite its depths, Agalmais also an album of immediacy and emotion. Celestial laments of and for times of unrest and suffering. McDowall characterizes his initial intention for this music as an to attempt to convey experiences he felt incapable of putting into words: “To try and approach sublimity, or at least acknowledge it in some way.”Agalmamore than acknowledges the ineffable –it embodies it.

Master craftsman James Welburn’s new LP, Sleeper in the Void, marks the 50th Miasmah release.The six years after his monumental debut have bred six tracks Welburn brings to fruition with the help of past co-conspirators from the Norwegian underground scene - Tomas Järmyr (Motorpsycho, Zu, Barchan), Hilde Marie Holsen (Hubro Records), and vocal artist Juliana Venter (W/V, Phil Winter).

On Sleeper in the Void, Welburn expands the domain of his sound, unveiling surprises until the very end of the album’s 36 minute playtime. While the character of the record is unmistakably his own, the tracks veer into many different territories, including a banging foray to the dancefloor.

The LP begins slowly with Raze, where Järmyr’s ritualistic cymbals introduce layers of Welburn’s signature sculpted bass drones and noise, building into a heart-wrenching epic of a track. This is perhaps the closest we ever get to Hold - Welburn’s previous LP. Falling from Time immediately surprises with it’s subdued mechanical techno beat, stark and cold as a glacier. Welburn’s texture-work is the star of the show, creating curious nooks and crannies of drone adorned with eerie melodies straight out of oblivion. This sense of wonder shines through to the album’s title track as well, where Welburn and Järmyr build another patient, echoing, and deeply cinematic piece, the drum patterns slowly shifting around a metallic hum that evokes the vision of church bells, ringing out under tonnes of seawater.

Sleeper in the Void feels like a story in two parts, rising lethargically, but with gargantuan power. The second begins with the momentous In and out of Blue, where Juliana Venter’s disembodied, spectral dirge takes center stage among the furious drums and bassy riffs, reaching a full crescendo with seconds to go. Parallel marks a release - Hilde Marie Holsen’s nostalgic soundscapes, pristine as glass, meeting the distant thunder of Welburn’s strings on the horizon. And finally, Fast Moon ends the record in a most surprising way - a tribal industrialized banger, complete with vile distorted beats and every other spice in demand on a blackened dancefloor.

Welburn’s Sleeper in the Void is a generous shapeshifter. Every inch of its soundwave breathes emotion and imagery - an invitation to take a dive and linger.

Long out of print and highly anticipated repress of the Andrew Weatherall ‘anti-produced’ long player. The Twilight Sad’s third full-length, No One Can Ever Know, marked a sonic shift for the band



'No One Can Ever Know' was released across all formats on 6th February 2012 and was the follow-up to 2009's acclaimed break-through 'Forget The Night Ahead'. Already flagged by the widely leaked 'Kill It In The Morning' and forthcoming first single proper, 'Sick', 'No One Can Ever Know' marked a sonic shift for The Twilight Sad. Freshly inspired by a listening diet of Caberet Voltaire, Liars, Magazine, Autechre, Banshees, Fad Gadget, PiL and Can, a synth-heavy sound characterizes 'No One Can Ever Know', a record thematically akin to 'Holy Bible' era Manics, 'Violator'-era Depeche Mode and 'The Downward Spiral' -era Nine Inch Nails.

"We wanted to be a lot more spontaneous, get outside our comfort zone - not to fall back into repeating what we've done previously", explains guitarist Andy MacFarlane. "So we moved to London for a month to record at The Pool and got Andrew Weatherall involved to bounce ideas off and to generally reassure us of the direction we were already progressing in - toward a sparser sound, with a colder, slightly militant feel."

Under the guidance of Weatherall the band experimented with vintage analogue synths - borrowed from Ben Hillier - to work on the core sounds they wanted, finding inspiration too in the distinctive production style of innovators like Martin Hannett and Conny Plank. For the first time the drums were also recorded separately utilising a lot of synthetic effects which allowed for the easy manipulation of the sounds and samples later in the process. Stylistically, the guitars tend to refract John McGeogh (Magazine/ Banshees) or Keith Levene (PiL) rather than the 'wall of sound' approach that defined The Twilight Sad's previous recordings.

Lyrically 'No One Can Ever Know' finds singer James Graham on typically ominous form, delivering lightning bolts of malevolent threat. "I'll find you - don't worry" he promises on forthcoming single, 'Another Bed' - The Twilight Sad's most radical and anthemic moment yet, it's driving disco motorik and glacial keys pushing a dizzy emotional uplift.