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Enter a world unknown! Birdfriend is a cassette label run by Japanese musician/composer Koshiro Hino, aka YPY, who is also a founding member of the Osaka band goat. This compilation, available on CD and double vinyl, features 18 tracks by Japanese artists, from 2013-2017, previously available only on hard-to-find cassettes on the Birdfriend label, now available to you, the curious and courageous listener, worldwide on EM Records. Rejoice and enjoy the fractured rhythms and future-now timbres, questing intelligences and D.I.Y. energy, conveyed to you through hand-made synths, custom electronics, synths and samplers. Compiled by Hino, who also provides liner notes and cover art, these Japanese artists share a love of texture, semi-skewed rhythm, simple-yet-evolving structure, and a sense of humour; yet despite these similarities, there is a great variety across this release, making for an exciting and cohesive musical experience.

GATEFOLD DOUBLE VINYL WITH SPOT UV FRONT COVER

Following the skewed-unself-help-brilliance of ‘Sus Dog’ (which marked his first full foray into songs, abetted by Thom Yorke), and its companion piece ‘Cave Dog’, Chris Clark returns to the dancefloor’s simple, but no less affecting pleasures, with ‘Steep Stims’.
“I found it hard to pull away from listening to this record, hard to stop making it, I had to remove myself from the Stims and stop enjoying it at some point. The album feels like nature to me. I love it when electronic music feels more naturalistic than acoustic music, more potent, that’s the devil’s trick, the promise of electronic music.” comments Chris.
“I used an old synth - the Virus on all of the tracks. I used it at Mess in Melbourne - run by my friend Robin Fox - I loved it so much I had to buy one when I got back to the UK, it took a while to find. They’re a bit clunky to program but make some of my most favourite sounds.”
‘Steep Stims’ marks a back-to-basics approach, invoking the early years of gung-ho creativity enforced by limitations in technology at the time. “Most of the tracks on this album capture the spirit of making music on old samplers, which don’t have much memory time”, explains Clark. “It reminds me of making ‘Clarence Park’, my first album, where I would have to finish tunes in the session, as they would be saved on floppy disks and I couldn’t easily go between tracks. This new record is just a few synths and a few choice sounds; the writing is the important thing.”
Made quickly, ‘Steep Stims’ reflects the immediate rave energy of his live show, but that’s not to say it’s basic floor fodder, as it’s rife with personality, synth magic, and knack for melody. Although swift and impressionistically captured rather than laboured over, it’s still formidably deft, with plenty of oddball weirdness lurking beneath the dancefloor.
Soft, orange, scorched, brutal, the opening track ‘Gift and Wound’ captures the classic dance music dread / awe / euphoria combo perfectly, before ‘Infinite Roller’ merges sparkly-minimalism with snarling bass and soft sines, which turn more dense and metallic as it progresses.
The melancholic smoke belch of ‘No Pills U’ gives strong classic vibrations, which is belied by its creation, made in just 20 minutes. “I love working quickly sometimes”, comments Clark. “Inspiration hits, rough and ready. It’s off the cuff but also screams ‘don’t gild the lily with nonsense, keep it simple keep it clean’”. Segueing into its elder brother, the piece becomes bigger and beatier on ‘Janus Modal’, where it permutates for over 7 minutes of fluttering, beatific club majesty.
At ‘18EDO Bailiff’ you inexplicably find yourself at a clearing, things have suddenly got much quieter. You enter a decrepit and eerie old house, and as you move through its unsettling interior, you arrive at ‘Globecore Flats’. A real piano tuned to 18 notes per octave gives the pair of tracks a haunted, olde worlde feel, which promptly gets eaten by a huge tech step tearout monster, birthing a strange but exotic beast.
The white hot ‘Blowtorch Thimble’ is all hooktasm-rave-hyper-amen-energy, whilst acidic flute leaps around like Ian Anderson on pingers throughout the catchily simple jump-up lurch of ‘Civilians’.
“‘In Patient’s Day Out’ is like some sort of Morricone-does-kraut-rock-with-drum-machines, but that’s probably just in my head” says Clark. “I made several versions of this then went with the early mix but cranked through some choice outboard because it just had something.”
Drumless, yet still full of exhilarating-big-trance-drama, ‘Who Booed The Goose’ flashes by in stroboscopic fast forward, then ‘5 Millionth Cave Painting’ gives a palate cleanser, letting “the virus with its delicious broken, luxurious reverb have a moment”, before ‘Negation Loop’ swoops down in all its glory, with Clark’s tweaked vocals leading deconstructed trance breakdowns, tape edits and brutal noisebursts.
An antidote to the bombast of its predecessor is ‘Micro Lyf’, which closes the set on a poignant note, of sorts. Muted staccato gives way to field recordings “that gradually put it in this outside space; alien in a meadow somewhere nameless. It feels like a sinkhole. The record kinda swallows itself up and then is gone”, ends Chris.

Sex Tapes From Mars presents Outdom Records' boss, LATENT, who shares a brand-new four-track EP that spars with breakbeat, electro, house, and left-field electronics, neatly centring them all into a steady, sexy collision. The record as a whole captures genuinely original-sounding, rough-edged b-boy breaking badness - nostalgic, but never polite. It's a few BPMs slower than Sex Tapes' last few outings, but no less effective. Arguably, it's more late '80s sounding than ever, although, in fact, it's a brand-new, stonking release that showcases the label's versatility and unpredictability.

The opening track, "Break Machine", sets the pace with a clear nod to the '80s US group of the same name, bringing tidy drum workouts and clipped vocal samples that recall early Chicago, as well as choppy rave and street party energy at its most unfiltered.

"Disco Hijack" pushes the clutch into a more functional gear, merging delay-heavy, druggy, chuggy, sludgy bass with more robotic vocoder tropes, sharing something playful but IDM and European skewed. It's a dancefloor tool with a wink - just the style this now accomplished label has made its identity. Oh, don't forget the amens and clattering jungle breaks. 1990 or 2040? Fuck knows.

On "Distress Robot", pneumatic percussion and malfunctioning android chatter bring a darker, more mechanical edge, while "Virtual Body" closes with a spacious, garage-leaning shuffle that pulls the EP into recognisable contemporary yet still very much peak-time territory.

LATENT gives lean grit, pushes the edges, and lets the tracks feel alive in their imperfections. It’s music that thrives on tension between old-school reference points and modern floor pressure.

Bristol's label head Elon Dust HAS done it again.

Vinyl-only as per, don't sleep."

Berlin’s Tal Fussman returns to Rekids with the ‘Walking on Mars’ EP, releasing 7th November 2025. It follows the Survival Tactics boss’ recent album on Binh’s Time Passages, as well as his ‘Definition’ (2024) and ‘I Feel’ (2025) EPs on Rekids, with Fussman’s fresh spin on classic House and Techno winning support from the likes of Raresh, Cromby, DVS1, Saoirse, Carista, Honey Dijon, and many more.

The ‘Walking on Mars’ EP opens with ‘Crystallized’, a cavernous cut exclusive to 12”, where Tal Fussman pares back his signature percussive style in favour of a rolling groove set against a deep, atmospheric backdrop. ‘Who’s Who?’ follows, its wild sequences and skewed drumlines colliding in restless motion. The title track, ‘Walking on Mars’, drives forward on hard-hitting drums that gradually unfold into a soulful house melody, setting the stage for ‘Knowledge < Machine’, a razor-sharp electro finale of snaking synths and an apt robotic vocal. Fussman’s versatility shines throughout, with the EP already winning support from Antal, Rene Wise, Marcel Dettmann, and Fred P. Founded in 2006, Radio Slave’s Rekids has since launched the Techno-focused Rekids Special Projects in 2017 and its latest sublabel, REK’D, in 2024. With Matt Edwards as the sole A&R, Rekids has been instrumental in developing emerging artists and remains a trusted home for House and adjacent sounds, recently featuring names such as Hilit Kolet, Frankey & Sandrino, Mathias Kaden, Huxley, and many more.

Debut album by Cindy is aptly called I'm Cindy. Produced by Kai Hugo a.k.a. Palmbomen II. Vinyl comes with a 20-page handmade booklet, an individually signed and kissed handkerchief of Cindy (some of them even have her teardrops on them) and a huge fold-out poster! Who exactly is Cindy? If producer Kai Hugo used oblique strategies it would be this question that's been central to his past four years of musical output. First appearing on his 2015 LP Palmbomen II as the titular subject of the track Cindy Savalas, her life has become intertwined with the producer's. "Following that release, I made a music video for Cindy Savalas, where Cindy came to life through the portrayal by Blue LoLan,' Hugo explains. 'I really felt a connection with this character and went deeper into developing who she was and the world she lived in. The result was the creation of the LP Memories Of Cindy, where my goal was to reveal more about Carmel Vista, the town Cindy lived in. Afterwards, I imagined Cindy having her own 'lost' album, as if she had once released a record that was kind of forgotten.' I'm Cindy is altogether different though. It sits at an uncommonly explored intersection between Italo disco and shoegaze - Cocteau Twins and Slowdive are mentioned as influences and you can hear that in the blurred textures and hazy synths of the 13 tracks here. But Hugo also revels in a chance to use his self-created character as a conduit to explore his love of both mainstream pop and its more skewed forms. In many ways the record is as much LoL?n's. It was she who gave the character her voice - initially across 27 tracks recorded with the producer - but her own connection to Cindy runs deeper than that. 'It makes me really nostalgic thinking about everything Cindy went through, she and I have similar feelings' says the vocalist. 'Cindy is a mix of me and Kai so when I listen to the album I feel like I'm half entering Kai's head and half in mine, with a whole bunch of deep emotions, purity and loneliness that just makes me want to dance and cuddle with all my cats in a disco forest somewhere outside of Carmel Vista.'

Debut album by Cindy is aptly called I'm Cindy. Produced by Kai Hugo a.k.a. Palmbomen II. Who exactly is Cindy? If producer Kai Hugo used oblique strategies it would be this question that's been central to his past four years of musical output. First appearing on his 2015 LP Palmbomen II as the titular subject of the track Cindy Savalas, her life has become intertwined with the producer's. "Following that release, I made a music video for Cindy Savalas, where Cindy came to life through the portrayal by Blue LoLan,' Hugo explains. 'I really felt a connection with this character and went deeper into developing who she was and the world she lived in. The result was the creation of the LP Memories Of Cindy, where my goal was to reveal more about Carmel Vista, the town Cindy lived in. Afterwards, I imagined Cindy having her own 'lost' album, as if she had once released a record that was kind of forgotten.' I'm Cindy is altogether different though. It sits at an uncommonly explored intersection between Italo disco and shoegaze - Cocteau Twins and Slowdive are mentioned as influences and you can hear that in the blurred textures and hazy synths of the 13 tracks here. But Hugo also revels in a chance to use his self-created character as a conduit to explore his love of both mainstream pop and its more skewed forms. In many ways the record is as much LoL?n's. It was she who gave the character her voice - initially across 27 tracks recorded with the producer - but her own connection to Cindy runs deeper than that. 'It makes me really nostalgic thinking about everything Cindy went through, she and I have similar feelings' says the vocalist. 'Cindy is a mix of me and Kai so when I listen to the album I feel like I'm half entering Kai's head and half in mine, with a whole bunch of deep emotions, purity and loneliness that just makes me want to dance and cuddle with all my cats in a disco forest somewhere outside of Carmel Vista.'

Mark Fell inaugurates his new label – The National Centre for Mark Fell Studies – with his first solo electronic material in years; a slinky, ravishing volley of unique dance drills that have been in the works for over a decade, feeling somehow like Derek Bailey dissecting Singeli, or Autechre and Hermeto Pascoal dancing in hyperspace. There’s nothing else quite like it.

Back on the floor for the first time since dealing a pair of deep house 12”s with DJ Sprinkles, sending a contemporary classic in »Protogravity« with Errorsmith, plus a lauded collab with Gábor Lázár – all in 2015 – Fell taps back into core club concerns last explored to this uncompromising extent on his string of »Sensate Focus« EPs released between 2012–2013. He’s hardly been slacking since then, with a slew of far-reaching avant collabs with everyone from Rian Treanor to Limpe Fuchs, Okkyung Lee to Pat Thomas, Explore Ensemble to Will Guthrie – each one blurring distinctions between producer, composer, and conductor.

The »Nite Closures« EP is worth the wait – and then some. As ever, Fell manages to retain a highly distinctive, instantly identifiable sound while also tracing and mapping new bends in the continuum. His exploration of contemporary styles and patterns is here distilled and articulated with a rare, daring playfulness and sinuous intricacy – for over half an hour he flows from frantic to almost emotional at the drop of a snare. Trust it’s not your everyday / everynight club music, with an asymmetric angularity bound to wrong-foot fresher feet, but also the type of absolutely future-facing, skewed machine funk that clubs are crying out for, even if they don’t quite realise it.

As someone who’s witnessed the dominance of colouring-book Jive Bunny DJs recycle tested ideas ad infinitum, the message is a firm do-one to myopic ravers in »Nite Closures«. From the displaced anticipations tested in its extended dub and ravishing, tweaked polymetrics on its version, through a »Large Modulos #3« teeming with organismic details, to the hair-kissing swang of »auchterhouse (inversion)« and its clipped, cascading 2.1-step reprise, Fell offers thrilling new options for the loosey-gooseyest dancers at each turn. For us, it’s perhaps his greatest record this century.

Side A / Double A / Work it Out
Not that it really matters, but, new label artwork alert! For release number 008, Mountain 45s gives its labels a fresh, clean look and goes small hole. It’s a “Double A” sider from the label bawss, Double A. And, like Chuck D said, “brother’s gonna work it out”. Big drums, and a new arrangement give this soul classic a dance floor update. For the b-boys/b-girls (and all the dancers), this one will bring a smile to anyone’s face.

Side B/ Double A / Skewed Down
This one made the rounds for a while as a digital drop but finally get’s its vinyl due. Hoggin’ drums and the funkiest of bass lines make this a hip-hop rework sure-shot. For old school players and new school fools alike.

Gabriel Birnbaum, der Hauptsongwriter der Brooklyn-Band Wilder Maker, sagt, dass das neueste Album der Gruppe, The Streets Like Beds Still Warm, ,einer allgemeinen formalen Asymmetrie folgt, wie einer Traumlogik". Es ist reichhaltig strukturiert, stimmungsvoll und tiefgründig und ebenso narrativ wie experimentell. Es als Konzeptalbum zu bezeichnen, so groß dieser Begriff auch ist, würde ihm eigentlich nicht gerecht werden. Tatsächlich ist es nur der erste Teil einer Konzepttrilogie, die die Geschichte einer langen Nacht in der Stadt erzählt, von der Dämmerung bis zum Morgengrauen. Das Album folgt einem einsamen Erzähler, der durch die Straßen treibt und Bars und Krankenhauszimmer betritt und wieder verlässt. Wenn das ein bisschen noir klingt, dann liegt das daran, dass es das auch ist. ,Film noir Detektive sehen am Anfang immer makellos aus, aber am Ende des Films haben sie einen zerrissenen Kragen, ein blaues Auge, ihre Hosen sind fleckig und sie fangen an, aus Verzweiflung Leute zu schlagen", sagt Birnbaum. ,Sind sie noch die Guten? Ich finde das faszinierend und ich liebe die visuellen Hinweise, die die innere Landschaft widerspiegeln." Zwar gibt es auf The Streets Like Beds Still Warm keine visuellen Hinweise im eigentlichen Sinne, doch das Album verdankt sein großartiges Debüt der Kinematografie. Impressionistische Wirbel aus verzerrter Gitarre, Schlagzeug und Saxophon untermalen Birnbaums heiseres, weltmüdes Bariton-Crooning, das manchmal an Bill Fay erinnert. Aber manchmal, in all den düsteren Bar-Geschichten, denkt man auch an Tom Waits. Es ist ein Vergleich, der sowohl irreführend als auch verkürzend sein kann, aber es ist schwer, diese Assoziationen beim Hören von The Streets Like Beds Still Warm nicht zu sehen - vielleicht eine langsam schwingende Tiffany-Lampe direkt über dem Kopf des Erzählers, der etwas mehr als halbtrunken ist und eine brillant poetische, antiheroische Geschichte auf eine Serviette in einer Bar kritzelt. Seien Sie jedoch versichert, dass dies nicht ,The Heart of Saturday Night" und auch nicht ,In the Wee Small Hours" ist. Tatsächlich stammen die musikalischen Vorläufer von ,The Streets Like Beds Still Warm" aus ganz anderen Ecken des musikalischen Universums. Die Band lässt sich direkt von den Werken der zeitgenössischen Alt-Jazz-Musiker Anna Butterss und Jeff Parker sowie vom Ambient-Pionier Brian Eno ,The Streets Like Beds Still Warm" ist insgesamt ein Statement für nächtliches und hypnotisches Storytelling - sowohl in Bezug auf Stil als auch Inhalt. Birnbaums Engagement für die Erzählung, die letztendlich von Menschlichkeit handelt, spiegelt sich in der traumhaften Art und Weise wider, wie sich die Melodien entfalten. Es könnte gar nicht anders funktionieren. Tief empfunden und fokussiert, unbestreitbar hörenswert, aber schwer zu fassen - ,The Streets Like Beds Still Warm ist wunderschön seltsam - und es fühlt sich genau wie etwas an, das in zehn Jahren die Anerkennung erhalten wird, die es verdient.

The latest by Andrew Clinco's acid punk alias VR SEX takes its title from an architectural phrase but more importantly refers to the warped, wicked underworld the songs both chronicle and condemn. Donning the moniker Noel Skum - an acerbic anagram of Elon Musk - Clinco vents his scorn for and fascination with the seedy, surreal margins of low-life Los Angeles, doomed to dead ends of vanity, lust, and technology. Although initially launched as an outlet for "heavier sounds" beyond Clinco's duties in new wave fantasists Drab Majesty, the project has ripened into a compelling exercise in world building, weaving themes of gritty city neofuturist sleaze within a framework of driving, distorted guitars and cathode-blasted synths. Echoes of Chrome, Wire, Minimal Man, and Sisters Of Mercy ripple through the collection but ultimately Rough Dimension charts its own twisted vision of "our unforgiving reality." Written and demoed across two weeks alone in a Marseille flat using his prized 1980's Gibson "Invader" and a laptop, Clinco then took the tracks to Strange Weather studios in Brooklyn to record with Ben Greenberg (Uniform, The Men) who helmed 2019's debut, Human Traffic Jam. The results are notably ripping, refined, and riveting. Riffs in alternate tunings chug and churn over mid-tempo drums punctuated by spikes of sci-fi electronics while the vocals swagger and spit venom ("where we walk is also where we shit / but if we bark at our reflections are we hypocrites? / impulses bleed right into our seed / where hate culminates the apple rotted on the tree"). It's a bristling mix of the melodic and the macabre, absurdist observations of fast living and desperate measures, the clock of youth ticking towards midnight as dreams unravel in Babylon. VR SEX's specialty is making these cautionary tales of psychic decay and tainted love a thrill rather than a drag. There's a sunglasses at night glamor to Clinco's choruses and solos, a wit to his black leather judgements ("what is the answer / to cancerous people / walking in my line of sight?"). The music's milieu tends towards parasites and predators but its mood skews refreshingly accelerated and amused, cruising the strip with a cigarette, watching goths and limousines crawl in gridlock beneath digital billboards. The Rough Dimension may be a cesspool, but it's home.

NZO goes sick on a standout debut album for Demdike Stare’s DDS, distilling 2-step UKG, R&B and computerised funk within whirring mechanisms adjacent to mutant jungle and footwork - the proper good stuff.

On ‘Come Alive’ SoYo’s NZO bruks wild but tight on nine tunes chiselled from a distinctive percussive palette cut into fidgety, soulful samples. She dances in and around the cracks of myriad styles with a canny grasp of limb-animating, rhythmic diffraction; all stop/start rhythms and stuttering diva-vocaloids arranged with a rudely shatterproof, grooving pliability. More simply put: it’s dance music for those who like to get super loose and freaky with it.

Chopped up and stitched together over six months in Sheffield, it’s not hard to hear a lineage of advanced Afro-American rhythm science that also feeds into SND’s jerky-but-sexy angularities, and subsequently Rian Treanor’s rugged pugilism, now morphing back to the source, but heavily skewed with it. Her judicious sampling of R&B gems is offset in obliquely funked-up structures in ways that knowingly mess with conditioned anticipations yet never lose sight of the ‘floor, and we’re here for it.

Jumping in with the writhing darkside tekkerz of ‘Rolling Around’ and clocking out with a standout downbeat pearl ‘Looking For’, we hear her displace amapiano closer to halfstep D&B in ‘AXMM’, and decimate 2-step like Akufen on ‘CFML’, while ‘K-space baum bap’ appears to dart in the spaces between UKG and singeli, and the sloshing congas, bass motifs and dub chords of ‘Deadweight’ settle to a sort of aqueous UKF.

When Alanis Morissette took direct aim at an ex who wronged her on the eviscerating “You Oughta Know” in 1995, everything about the Top 10 song communicated it wasn’t the usual narrative about love gone south. Or the typical wounded singer wallowing in self pity. Morissette, and both the lead single from and her entire American major-label debut — the profoundly personal Jagged Little Pill — represented a sea change. They kickstarted a movement, one whose impact continues to echo throughout the mainstream nearly three decades later.

Ranked the 69th Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, included on the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s list of 200 Definitive Albums, and featured in several books about essential albums, Jagged Little Pill remains more than a blockbuster that has sold more than 17 million copies in the U.S. and 33 million units worldwide. It’s a statement, an attitude, a soundtrack for anyone seeking inspiration, an outlet, or permission to be themselves.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set of Jagged Little Pill presents the landmark effort in audiophile-grade sound for the first time. A key part of the record’s appeal and accessibility — Glen Ballard’s smooth production, touches that help Morissette’s exposed-nerve fare seem more accessible and melodic — comes through on this special 30th anniversary edition with an openness, presence, and dynamic explosiveness that make the vocalist’s songs that much more real and visceral.

The singer’s distinctive mezzo-soprano deliveries — the octave-rippling highs, dark-hued lows, dramatic crescendos, belted choruses, wispy reflections, occasional yodels — resonate with full-range ardor and depth. As crucial as anything on the record, Morissette’s confessional words take center stage like never before. Ditto the instrumentation and atmospherics that form the magnetic backgrounds of the songs. Key in on the contributions from Red Hot Chili Peppers Dave Navarro and Flea on “You Oughta Know” to Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers' co-founder Benmont Tench’s organ playing on six tracks.

The deluxe packaging of Mobile Fidelity’s Jagged Little Pill UD1S set underscores the work’s distinguished status. Housed in a slipcase, the LPs come in special foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Benefitting from an ultra-low noise floor, superior groove definition, and dead-quiet surfaces, this UD1S reissue is for listeners who prize sound quality and desire to engage themselves in everything involved with the album, including the now-iconic cover art that juxtaposes two portraits of the then-21-year-old singer-songwriter and features typewriter font.

That script — which suggests a raw, blood-on-the-floor document created without modern aids like spell check or language correction — hints at the heightened level of unvarnished intimacy, honesty, and catharsis Morissette offers throughout Jagged Little Pill. Named after a phrase uttered on the astute “You Learn,” the album explores the frank emotions, inherent contradictions, and wishful desires people feel everyday but are often too afraid to express. Morissette displays no such fear or shyness.

Akin to a woman reading from a diary, Morissette leaves nothing to the imagination as she skewers hypocrisy during the poignant “Forgiven,” seeks recompense on the vengeful “You Oughta Know,” and spills her guts on the soul-purging “All I Really Want.” For all the anger and bile ascribed to the singer and record, Jagged Little Pill is incredibly healthy and upbeat. Morissette uses the catchy pop-rock frameworks and moody ambience to suss out situations, to learn, to give hope. There’s the clever yearning of “Hand in My Pocket”; wry contrarianism of “Ironic”; kind-heartedness of “Hand over Feet”; the live-and-let-live spirit of “You Learn” – all positive and amiable.

Throughout Jagged Little Pill, the ever-approachable Morissette connects with listeners who recognize themselves in her — and has an intelligent conversation with anyone who wants to participate. It seemed almost everyone did. In addition to the mammoth sales that make the effort the 17th-best-selling album in American history, Jagged Little Pill collected four Grammy Awards, two American Music Awards, three Billboard Music Awards, and eight Juno Awards. In 2018, the record became the basis for a musical that netted 15 Tony nominations on Broadway.

Ironic? Anything but. Jagged Little Pill transcends generations, gender, and trends. As Morissette sings on the opening “All I Really Want,”, the album represents “deliverance” — “a place to find common ground.”

New Environments & Rhythm Studies finds Andrew Pekler returning to the humid zones he explored on previous albums such as Sounds From Phantom Islands and Tristes Tropiques. Split between longer immersive compositions and shorter glimpse-like sketches, these 12 tracks feature new juxtapositions of Pekler's familiar palette of synthetic field recordings, warm, undulating electronic textures, shifting percussion patterns and serene melodies.

As with much of his recent work, Pekler's compositions here are structured around the beguiling effect of synthetic and non-synthetic sounds mirroring, mimicking and modulating one another. The teeming atmospheres within tracks such as Globestructures, Cymbals In The Mist or Globestructures: Option II are, despite their seemingly anthropogenic nature, entirely synthetic. Elsewhere, the lopsided grooves of Cumbia Para Los Grillos or Fabulation For K are derived from recordings of crickets and other insects which Pekler loops and uses to trigger electronic percussion – producing a pleasantly skewed rhythmic base for the fragments of melody which are layered on top. The six Rhythm Studies also follow the same principle – a playful interweaving of the organic and synthetic.

New Environments & Rhythm Studies is a further attempt to re-describe past tropes which laid claims to authentically represent music and sound from beyond the Western world (exotica, ethnomusicology, field recording) as undertakings of the imaginary.

Written and produced by Andrew Pekler, mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi, artwork by Morgan Cuinet, graphic design by Dmytro Nikolaienko.

Senselessness 1/2 is the very first solo issue of the Swiss electronic composer Robin Félix, on his own label De l’Aube (Of Dawn), the occasion for him to prove that field recordings can be (or should be?) an integral part of the global matter, when so often they are just something hovering in the background because it’s “nice” or reminds the artist of a place he loves.

Throughout the length of these four tracks, they are litterally central; moreover, they are electronically transformed, manipulated, skewed and twisted in order to form some sort of framework, a backbone on to which sounds and genres intertwine. On Cluster, violins and cellos (recorded in the gardens of the Venice Biennale) are soon transmuted into the abrasions of the electroacoustic realm, until the pulse of a relentless bass introduces a pure and pristine electronic music that knows and uses the roots of dub, drum’n’bass and the meticulousness of Jan Jelinek’s Glitch aesthetics. A tad “housy”, Chi comes as a second pulse where a modified didgeridoo and African percussions (recorded in a Swiss forest) lead the listener to a sort of tribal mode, as suited to dancers than to those who prefer inner journeys; here, the spatial dub of King Tubby moves from background to foreground.

The more abstract Boiler verges on the IDM and the heady, elegant and spartan Detroit techno – headphones reveal its numerous minute and delicate details. Based on the recording of insects, of which one can hear the actual rubbing of elytras, the closing Swarm ends the record with and intricate blend of ambient, which in some way winks to the Aphex Twin and The Future Sound Of London. Overall Senselessness 1/2 is a mesmerising and concise update of the famous Deutsche elektronische musik of old, that gathered on its way the other genres that made Robin Félix tick. Since field recordings have hardly been that meaningful, one wonders where Senselessness 2/2 will lead us to

A meeting of minds and bodies on a heady percussive trip with no clear destination, captured live at Espacio Cultural El Tanque in Tenerife. With both imaginary and lived in tropical sceneries coalescing the two units, both Tenerife's Lagoss and Kampala's Abagwagwa (aka Nihiloxica) find a common thread to disentangle cartographies. As if it was bound to happen. As it did.

Taking Abagwagwa's relentless barrage of polyrhythms as a starting point to jammin' excursions that never falter into self indulgence, brimming with ideas and spirits pulled from East African traditions, Free Jazz cosmologies, Dub tactics, urban sonic warfare and different strains of psychedelia through a vast array of drums, percussion, flutes, skewed synths, ecstatic vocals and electronic processing.Blessed with the xamanic drumming of João Pais Filipe on two tracks and feeling equally indebted to both bands' vision all the while commiting to a newfound sense of wonder, 'Island Slang' is a celebration that's truly alluring in its search for some sort of 'Universal Consciousness' - to quote Alice Coltrane - for which we're now invited to tag along. You are all welcome.

Limited edition white vinyl (800 copies) The self-styled ritualistic electro-mechanical ensemble OSMIUM is a veritable supergroup. Made up of Oscar-winning composer and instrumentalist Hildur Gudnadóttir, veteran engineer and producer James Ginzburg, Senyawa's idiosyncratic vocalist Rully Shabara and Grammy-winning sound designer / producer Sam Slater, while each member brings along a laundry list of accolades, the project is far greater than the sum of its parts. Alloying burnished electroacoustic soundscapes with dense, metallic drones, barbed rhythms and buckled, bio-mechanical vocalizations, OSMIUM's eagerly awaited debut album doesn't try to cast a rigid future. Rather, it tempers a viscous flow of unorthodox speculations that smolders through the distant past, blazing a trail all the way to the frontier of fate. Absorbed by questions about the relationship between humans and technology, tradition and progression, the individual and the group, OSMIUM channel their experience and expertise into a set of forward-thinking sonic interrogations that skewer established cultural preconceptions. And although genre is acknowledged - the album draws from folk, doom metal, 20th century minimalism, industrial music and extreme noise - there's never a sense that it's riveted firmly in place. Widely known for her soundtrack work (including `Joker' and `Chernobyl') Gudnadóttir plays the halldorophone, a unique cello-like electroacoustic instrument designed by Halldór Ulfarsson that allows the performer to harness unstable feedback loops. Taking his cues from this process, Slater (who has worked alongside Jóhann Jóhannsson, Ben Frost and others) generates rhythms using a self-oscillating drum he designed with KOMA Elektronik and Subtext boss and Emptyset member Ginzburg responds in kind, producing booming tambura-like sonorities from a device he developed himself based on the monocord, an ancient single- stringed resonator. OSMIUM synchronize the three unique instruments using a custom system of robotics to generate basic rhythms that underpin their improvisations and experiments, and Shabara's alien tones supply the band with their conceptual fulcrum. The vocalist is one of South Asia's most recognizable underground artists, and the sounds he's able to create using exhaustively rehearsed extended techniques are so distinctive that he's been studied by scientists back home in Indonesia. Never weighed down by needless sound design or modish ornamentation, it's music that feels authentically experimental; OSMIUM have figured out an awkward symmetry between their discrete approaches, concentrating their gaze on the outcome rather than the process. The result is a work of science fiction that's driven by interaction, conversation and sensation.

PHASE SHIFTING INDEX is a time capsule record of Jeremy Shaw's vast original artwork that includes audio excerpts, voiceover passages and music composed by There in Spirit and Konrad Black. Shaw's seven-channel video, sound and light installation-that premiered at Centre Pompidou in 2020-uses science fiction, documentary, visual effects and synchronisation to induce an ecstatic experience in narrative temporality. Each video details the belief systems of one of seven fictional subcultural groups spread across time that aspire to induce parallel realities that could redirect the evolution of the human species through embodied forms of ritual, ideology and movement. The vinyl release serves as a gathering of the piece's key audio elements, focussing on their importance to the engineering of the artwork and their stand-alone listening qualities. Side A of the record follows the dramaturgy of the artwork in full-swing, including audio segments from four of its five distinct chapters. Written by long time collaborators Konrad Black and Jeremy Shaw together as There in Spirit, "Cross- Temporal Sync" soundtracks the strobing peak of the installation at the moment when all seven disparate videos fall into a unified choreography in which every person on every screen performs the same ecstatic series of slow-motion movements. The pulsing, hypnotic dirge aligns with the locked choreography in mood and action, caught somewhere between ecstatic trance and somatic takeover. A steady sub line, clipped stabs and a swooping choral gasp harmonise with the dancers movements onscreen while restrained filters open slowly to reveal a submerged melody that builds in intensity towards the chaotic rupture of Black's "Mosh". Here the score breaks into digital shards as heard through analog bodies colliding and pixelating into each other. The dancers eventual dissolution into "Particles" sounds like the field recording of a disembodied neural cosmos. The B-side of the record contains a narrative outline edit of the artwork comprised of music, excerpts and pieces of narration from each video. Listeners can follow along in an accompanying thirty-six page booklet of full-bleed film stills documenting each of the seven groups as they move through the five chapter dramaturgy. Composer Konrad Black's authentically backwards-glancing production and sound design is as disparate as the groups represented on screen. From the bespoke-16mm-tribal-techno of "The Cyclical Culture" and retro-cyber-funk of the "Zero-Ones," to the VHSdark- wave of "The Violet Lux" and skewed vocal/piano minimalism of the "Quantum Modern," each group exists in its own custom-made world out-of-time. The record ends where it began, with the full sequence of "Ramping" playing out as each subcultural world begins to lose control, galvanise, sync, rupture, atomise and scatter throughout the universe, only to loop back into another inevitable beginning. Phase Shifting Index premiered at Centre Pompidou, Paris, in 2020 and has since been exhibited in nine international venues including ARoS, Denmark, MONA, Tasmania, MAC, Montreal and Hamburger Bahnhof, Berlin

Drag City and Yoga Records are delighted to return to the music of Matthew Young. Following Recurring Dreams (1981, reissued 2014) and Traveler"s Advisory (1986, reissued 2010), Undercurrents (2025) collects eight oddly dissimilar pieces that somehow fit together perfectly. Ranging from heady synthesizer experiments to earthy dulcimer meditations, Undercurrents is unique enough to be called outsider while still occupying a musical world accessible to fans of many genres. Composed and recorded over the span of several decades, Undercurrents displays the wide range of Young"s various sonic pallets: similar to Recurring Dreams, the electronic landscapes meander coherently, and much like Traveler"s Advisory, the album skews from the nearly algorithmic computer music of side one to the moving pastoral folk of the second.

The debut album from CEM, 'FORMA' was developed as a soundtrack to Mauro Ventura’s series of "action painting performances" and uses various bell sounds (cowbells, doorbells, Shinto bells, singing bowls) to pick out anxious giallo sequences and heaving Dadaist formations.

CEM's best known for pneumatic DJ sets that have propped up Berlin's queer underground for a decade at this point, but don't expect to find any vaped darkroom tek on 'FORMA'. Each of the six compositions were commissioned for Ventura’s performative installation at Volksbühne in 2022, and CEM opted to represent the piece's themes of labor and repetition by sampling an arsenal of bells and metal objects that anchor his varying widescreen vignettes. 'The Calling' is a relatively subtle introduction, establishing the space with double bass drones and ratcheting digitally altered chimes - it's 'Bells Corrupt' that cements CEM's concept more righteously, harking back to Goblin's iconic 'Suspiria' score without pastiching any of its Italo-prog themes. Cycling ritualistic bell loops with squashed, industrial-strength thuds and granulised laptop belches, CEM silhouettes the tension and the vivid color of Argento's film, chrome plating the result.

'An Industrial Satire' is even more convincing; this one takes its cues from legendary German sound artist Limpe Fuchs, and the first part integrates scraped, alien resonances with CEM's loping industrial rhythms and squelchy EBM bassline. The real shift occurs in the second part, when CEM's choppy electroacoustic minimalism falls away to unlock his rolling hand drum performance, that he matches with a ghaita sample lifted from the Master Musicians of Joujouka's 1971 album with Brian Jones. With the future-facing deconstructions a memory, 'Statue Garden' beds reedy organ drones in eerie gallery ambiance, and closer 'The New Sincerity Test' finds Lithuanian performance artist Gertrūda Gilytė skewering the wellness industrial complex over nauseous subsonic oscillations and scratchy noise.

On their most explicit venture into music for moving image, Miles Whittaker & Sean Canty rudely fracture piano and vocal recordings by US filmmaker-musician Kristen Pilon in a short-circuiting of style and pattern.

Shredding up definitions of electro-acoustic opera, spectralist chamber musique and concrète rave, Demdike hit square between the eyes/ears of film music vernaculars on a startlingly strong addition to their unique oeuvre, now in its 16th year of elusive psychoacoustic strafes and jump-cuts across putative borders. The 13-part, hour-long album dislodges source material made for the experimental film ‘To Cut and Shoot’, by Kristen Pilon, an NYC-based musician and filmmaker, to farther refract the film’s themes of serendipity and the nature of ghosts and dreams with a flickering flux of sound-imagery and aleatoric weirdness appropriate to her original meditations, but also freely messing with their forms.

Situated just a few miles north of Houston, Cut and Shoot is a relatively insignificant Texas town with an unforgettably bizarre name. Pilon grew up not far from Cut and Shoot, and it's there where she ran into 65-year-old machinist and motorcyclist Robert Lewis Stevenson, better known as Bobbo, who's pictured on the album's cover. The meeting occurred a few months after Pilon recorded her improvisations on piano, strings and voice in the basement cellar of the Halle in Manchester, with Bobbo providing the necessary narrative heft the trio needed to inspire an experimental film and its accompanying soundtrack.

Responding to Kristen’s initial piano and operatic vocal recordings, Demdike return a volley of discrete parts tilting from typically cantankerous mayhem to quieter, more clandestine buzzes sliced with crazed interstices of the imagination, all marbled with the plasmic contrails of the paranormal which have long been peculiar to their work. With a poetic flair reflecting Pilon’s own phrasing and melding of mediums, Demdike unfold and expand her melodic fragments into temporal mazes, variously resembling the most messed-up ends of The Caretaker in ‘A Grave Fall (January)’, but also liable to skew into buckshot club turbulence, as with ‘Belly Up’, or the bittersweet bruk contortions of ‘Twist’.

The storyline wickedly frays and loops into itself with a non-linearity that recalls the mid-to-latter stages of Lynch’s ‘Mulholland Drive’ or waking from a sweaty fever dream only to pitch back into its thorny bush of ghosts, often within the space of one track. It’s testament to the ever-tighter binds of Demdike’s symbiotic vision that the results nevertheless hold a thread of logic that weaves in everything from their Jon Collin jams to reams of mixes and Gruppo edits with an unresolved, open-ended quality that still keeps us on our toes, perhaps more so than ever here.

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

On his Discrepant debut Memotone aka Bristolian Will Yates collects some unreleased recordings under a most aptly titled name - »Pruning« - following a healthy stream of releases for such esteemed labels as Black Acre, The Trilogy Tapes or Soda Gong.

Considering the process of pruning as a practice of selective removal, the album takes its name at face value never falling into a mere collection of tossed off material or random B-side assemblage, making it a cohesive listen throughout its disparate timeframe and evasions.

A statement about Memotone's vision itself, »Pruning« veers closer to his Fourth World/ECM/Exotica meets Sci-fi transmutations in alignment with what would be expected from a Memotone release on Discrepant. »Moss Zone« briefly sets the tone with a warm but queasy synth bedsheet that flows into the »Weird Figures« cyber- jungle, all small twinkling percussions and rainforest pads slowly rising. 'Riders' brings the synth-flute to an early Warp meets John Hassell's »City: Works of Fiction« scenario that pops up again in more disrupted form on »Wisdom MOTHER«. »Not What I Thought's« skewed tropical guitar gets going on lo-fi percussion and dissonant synth chords while »Jim Starling and The Inverse Church« bring to mind »Autoditacker« era Mouse on Mars going jazz-fusion. Or what we should expect from their Smalltown Supersound stint. »Beach Scene« is exactly it, as the sun sets into »Come In Don't Mind the Ghost« summer night's stars with all the allure of Stereolab.

Alluring, that's exactly it. Do come in.

This pressing of the 7" is on clear vinyl with an etched label. Non-Returnable.

Recorded: November 1981

Ian MacKaye vocals
Eddie Janney guitar
John Falls bass
Jeff Nelson drums

Iro Aka are back on Hivern Discs with two new EP's showcasing some of the most edgy and fast paced music they've released so far. Aural and Aural II are a deep dive into the Catalan's duo universe, a proper follow up of their album Planet Earth released back in 2023. This time focusing on mental sequences, ethereal pads and acid melodies.

Manchester-based poet, writer and producer Antony Szmierek has announced the release of his debut album, Service Station At The End Of The Universe. The past few years have been a wild ride for the artist. Cutting his teeth on the Manchester spoken word scene and gaining notoriety for his seamless flow skewering everything from the hardships of contemporary British life to finding the unexpected beauty in the everyday, it was the 2023 release of his single ‘The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Fallacy’ that kicked off his meteoric ascent.

***** AUGMENTED REALITY COVER *****

For the third release on Dust In Grooves, Olivia Mendez curates a compilation EP that honours the boundary pushing spirit of the vinyl-only imprint and presents a collection of mind bending tracks by emerging and established techno producers. The first VA instalment on DIG showcases adventurous, challenging, and dynamic cuts while maintaining the groovy and raw signature sound of the label. Bridging the analog format with a forward thinking design is the animated cover created by visual artist Deniz Bicer, she is also known as Ojelibalon.

LKY - Bitter
Bitter by Manchester based producer LKY is a direct immersion in the atmospheric depths conveyed within a minimalistic tool track. With trippy loops and changing beats, this opener leaves a bitter taste of the sweaty, trance-infused 90s.

Deluka - R.A.W
R.A.W glistens with a mind-bending sound design, produced by the No Signal Records founder Deluka. He delivers a visceral, hypnotising track with quirky highs and stomping, rhythmic lows, captivating the attention all throughout the end.

Metapattern - Tamakotuma
On the B side, the relentlessly driving and layered Tamakotuma by Metapattern, beams with melting synths, intense rhythm and skewed melodies. After joining the Mord and HAYES families, Metapattern contributes a dynamic track with evolving retro-futuristic design, journeying across dimensions.

Dotdat - Take me to Detroit
An homage to the roots of timeless sound and community, Take me to Detroit by Dot Dat is a soothing dance-floor energy tamer, filled with melodic arpeggios and spacious drums. After his release on Truncate records, Dot Dat closes out the DIG VA with a slower-paced track, laced with classic synths.

Words by Lora Mateeva

Animation - Deniz Bicer
Master - Nihad Tule
Graphist - Ferdinand Prat

Canadian DJ and producer Marie Davidson releases her latest single “Contrarian,” made in collaboration with Pierre Guerineau and Soulwax via their DEEWEE label. An all-out onslaught of raw circuitry and electronics, “Contrarian” might just be one of Davidson’s finest club cuts to date.

Earlier in the year, Davidson debuted on the legendary DEEWEE imprint with her single Y.A.A.M. (Your Asses Are Mine), reuniting the Belgium powerhouse Soulwax, who previously reworked Davidson’s acclaimed “Work It” anthem

her wittiest and most biting" - DJ Magazine
“raving under surveillance capitalism” - Pitchfork (8.1)
"funny and wonderfully weird." - Bandcamp (Album of the day)
"reaches new heights" - CLASH 8/10
“packed with party-ready bangers” - The Quietus (Album of the week)
“takes on the big room to take down big tech.” - Resident Advisor (RA Recommends)
“a rallying call for a more humane digital future.” - The Skinny ****

Marie Davidson’s album City Of Clowns, effortlessly weaves through crunching techno straight out of 90s Detroit, fired-up circuitboard breakbeats, and skewed club cuts - a body of work which continues the use of her music as a tool to navigate her place in the world, as an artist, as a woman, and as an entertainer. As high concept as it is open-hearted, she pushes the boundaries of electronic music to digest the most urgent questions of our time – and the result is disarmingly human.

“Contrarian" is an all-out onslaught of raw circuitry and electronics and might just be one of Davidson’s finest club cuts to date.

Limited to 500 copies

Although many a vibe has shifted since the days of dubbing NNF001 one at a time on the floor of a Koreatown bachelor apartment in February of 2004, using stolen photocopies and tie-dyeing J-cards with wine, the label’s essential premise has not. Then, as now, the vision was to elevate and enshrine outsiders, foragers, hidden gems, and hybrid sounds on cheap tapes or affordable records, to be savoured and shared in the here and now. 399 catalogue titles later, the centre still holds.

To toast the label’s 20th anniversary and 400th release, we commissioned a gold roll call of alumni and affiliates: Alley Of The Sun. Named in homage to the Malibu mystic music fountainhead, skewed through a smoggy sideways lens, the 16-song, 90-minute, double LP suite spans every shade of NNF’s Pacific palette: rainforest ceremony, skyway motorik, Tascam rapture, silhouette shoegaze, basement vapour, astral ascension, jazz shadows, 5th world tropics, lucid dream drone, desert quests, prophecy electronics, ritual wreckage.

Equal parts snapshot, tapestry, and time capsule, the compilation reflects the breadth of NNF’s two-decade exploration and evolution, from simple soil to a sea of dunes. True undergrounds have no set sound or fixed polarity, only flashes of transient magic and forking paths, to be cherished and championed for as long as the candle lasts.

BRUK welcomes the daring shapes and inquisitive textures of ELLLL for her debut album, Earth Rotation. Across 13 scuffed cuts and grubby miniatures the Irish producer shapes out a distinctive sound world, steeped in sample science and powered by low-slung grooves. There's no direct message permeating Earth Rotation, but burning issues around embattled ecosystems hang in the air as ELLLL pushes her sound palette until it bites. Extended instrumental techniques lend the album an in-the-room tangibility, while dislocated micro-loops speak to less grounded atmospheres. Starting from densely packed collages and diligently chipping away until spacious, head-knocking arrangements remain, the end results of ELLLL's process call to mind the wayward sample acrobatics that made trip-hop and jungle so emotionally resonant and eerily alien in the same beat. There's rarely anything like conventional boom-bap or a cosily familiar break, but ELLLL finds compelling rhythms in unlikely sources of funk, whether plucked, bowed, sequenced or sculpted. Even when teetering towards techno on 'Titan', her particular approach is gloriously skewed and, by extension, innovative. No matter how serious the techniques involved, Earth Rotation is a celebration of the magic that happens when sound gets mistreated. If there are foreboding ideas lingering in the album's tendency towards dissonance, ELLLL also knows how to inject her work with a necessary mischief, making her a perfect fit amongst the maverick BRUK alumni.

In the fall of 2022, celebrated UK chill-out institution Seahawks landed in Los Angeles for the first time in their 15-year history, with plans to record a sweeping new age downtempo "exploration of visionary California."

Instead, they immediately fell ill with flu (Fowler collapsed next to a taco truck; 911 was called), and were bedridden for the better part of a week. Upon recovering, they resituated at the synthesizer sanctuary of Brian Foote (Peak Oil, Kranky, Leech), channeling their post-sickness psychedelia into one of the band's lushest and most elevated creations to date: Time Enough For Love. Inspired by the "groove and mood" of Harry Nilsson demos, as well as its wider 70's wavelength - Rhodes, Wurlitzer, wood paneling - Seahawks transposed their classic post-rave ambient exotica onto a warm and woozy Golden State palette. Buoyed by the liquid touch of English maestro Kenny Dickenson on keys, the results rank high among the duo's smoothest and most multi-sensory voyages. "Sail Across The Moon" delivers on its title, a simmering, phaser-smeared cruise through the beauty of the night. "Messengers" echoes the cosmic lounge of Air's Moon Safari, shuffling, weightless, and ethereal, while "Falling Deep" reaches for the stars, pure cascading bliss, the ecstatic moment writ large.

The album skews steadily more astral as it progresses, drifting towards jazzy, galactic outer reaches. "Like A Grain Of Sand" opens with a spoken sample by the celebrated late American poet Rachel Sherwood ("The children watch, breathless / with the birds / They feel an emanation / from this shuddering place"), before taking flight on a Balearic trip through island house, PM Dawn gold dust, upright bass meditation, and kaleidoscopic light. A remix of the title track by Chicago trio Purelink closes the record in a suitably subdued and skittery state of mind. Time Enough For Love radiates color, complexity, and positivity, infused by the "life enhancing" nature of the band's time in Los Angeles - sunsets, sound systems, and sativa, framed by coastlines and cloudbanks, the city's mystic sprawl glittering beneath purple dusk.

RADIAL
Acoustic Rhythm & Texture Sequencer
Available as C60 Limited Edition of 50 mirror dubs- (same on both sides) + Inserts

written and produced by
S.Gordon 2024.

additional percussion by Islay Spalding - TRK 7, recorded at SFS studios 2024

Synths & Radial - SDGordon.

The Radial instrument was designed to explore various material's acoustic characteristics in ways that could only be achieved through mechanical and electronic control.

It creates sporadic dense percussive sequences & sharp reciprocating sweeps or can focus in on tiny acute angles to produce deep shaking drones among a host of other planned and unplanned acoustic sounds.

Radial uses 5 voltage controlled motors and interchangeable textured cylinders captured via contact microphones positioned within the chassis. The cylinders can be synchronised or independent & the blades are interchangeable allowing the flex of certain materials to skew and augment the movements and sounds and sequences.

Playing the Radial instrument is a direct visceral experience. Its sequences sound unlike anything else i have used and the simple design by no means limits the scope of its rhythmical output. After feeling out the controls you arrive somewhere in-between the rubbery juddering fuzz or clockwork blasts of percussion and can step back allowing the physicality of the instrument itself to dictate how things proceed. Minor adjustments can have a butterfly effect on the entire tone inmate rewardingly unpredictable but controllable way.

On certain tracks there’s some synth work in a move away from the potential “instrument study” vibe of the release and Islay Spaldings blistering scrap metal percussion on Track 7 was incredible to watch.. Additional thanks to Stephan P Richter “SPR” for the advice and encouragement through the whole build.

»lacuna and parlor« is anchored in the left-field chamber music and incidental recordings that have long accented more eaze’s roving sound. Composed with one ear pressed to the rich textures of instrumental recording environments, this is a resonant and tactile collection tinged in rephrased space and skewed time.

Taking the rudiments of tonal music theory as her conceptual base, more eaze formed the compositions around her own manipulations of these core principles. Simple chord progressions stretch over minutes rather than seconds, for example, while elsewhere specific tonal signifiers were deleted from harmonic progressions, altering the expectations of these tropes.

These and many other bespoke techniques underpin compositions that span Americana-inflected ambient ballads and jaunty string recitals. With wistful vocals, bursts of improvisatory noise, loose chatter and overdubbed room sounds flowing in and out of the mix, more eaze invites us to lounge and linger in these lacunate moments, at once heard, felt and imagined.

Four years after their Discrepant debut - 'OOOO' -, Lisbon-based travellers Jibóia return to the fold with another offering of globetrotting psychedelia with 'Salar'. With the core trio of Óscar Silva, Ricardo Martins and Mestre André augmented by a stellar parade of collaborators on various roles, 'Salar' further expands on the transglobal visions by now pretty trademarked by the band. Intersped among shorter vignettes for drums, saxophone and bass, each of the more fully fleshed tracks casts a guest to elevate Jibóia's music to uncharted realms - both in a mystical and geographical sense.

Opener 'Selar' summons the cello of songstress Joana Guerra for a skewed dialogue with Silva's guitar, propelled by Martins' drums and percussion and André's electronic textures into 4 minutes and 20 seconds that feel epic - if there was any psychedelic numerological symbolism needed. On 'Solar', Silva's non-western plucking rides on for Yaw Tembe's trumpet to veer in a multitude in directions, while the mysterious 'Sitar' conjures the voice of moroccan musician Ayoub El Ayadi for a contemplative nighttime prayer. Elsewhere, guitarist Rui Carvalho aka Filho da Mãe injects dissonant guitar lines unto 'Sarar's pummelling dance and Pedro Augusto's electronics hover below the shapeshifting dynamics of 'Sonar', among mesmerising keyboard lines. 'Salir' featuring Daiyen Jone enchanted flute brings the album to a close at its most reflective, all crepuscular synth lines and reverbed handclaps.

Ruby Wine Vinyl. Manchester UK's Space Afrika make music of what they term "overlapping moments" - oblique mosaics of dialogue, rhythm, texture, and shadow, half-heard through a bus window on a rainy night. Honest Labour, the group's first full-length since 2020's landmark hybtwibt? (have you been through what i've been through?) mixtape, expands the project's palette with classical strings, shimmering guitar, and visionary vocal cameos, leaning further into their enigmatic fusion of ambient unrest and cosmic downtempo. It's a sound both fogged and fragmented, at the axis of song craft and sound design, born from and for the yearning solitudes of life under lockdown.The album title is tiered, alluding to a legendary patriarch from co-founder Joshua Inyang's Nigerian family tree (who was lovingly called "Honest Labour" for his loyalty and resilience) as well as the nature of self-designated work, such as Space Afrika's music - a "labor of love" in its truest sense. With fellow co-founder Joshua Reid recently relocated to Berlin, the pair began sharing files last fall, piecing together poetic vignettes of looping haze and found sound, inspired by the notion of "records that leave an impression, and help the listener deal with their life." As the isolation of Covid compounded with the worsening winter, the songs skewed increasingly introspective and emotive, reflecting a mood of dissipating futures and the infinite nocturnal unknown.The artists cite two core motivations for Honest Labour: to transcend the sum of their influences, and "to show what we're capable of." Both ambitions are entirely realized. The collection's 19 tracks flow with a synergy and sophistication as rare as they are radical, untethered to the dusty dub-techno templates of Space Afrika's early years. These are interstitial anthems, expressionistic and open-ended, delirious but deliberate, attuned to the drift and dreamstate of the present moment: "Ultimately this is an homage to U.K. energy, and an album about love and loss."

Originally released to a fan base and music press that were unprepared for the band to move on from the punk fury of "Crossing The Red Sea", The Adverts "Cast Of Thousands" has since been recognized as a lost classic of the time. TV Smith's cutting observational lyrics and sharp musical instincts saw his song writing grow and move in unexpected directions. The primal thumping was replaced by dynamic and driving drumming, acoustic guitars and probing solos emerged, and Tim Cross joined to add keyboards and fill out the overall sound. The one constant was the pounding throb of Gaye Advert's bass. Encouraged to experiment by surprise producer Tom Newman (Mike Oldfield "Tubular Bells") the band found themselves stretching creatively, both in song writing and recording techniques. They might agonize over the sound of recording a match being lit in the middle of one song, while doing a single take of a vocal via a microphone hung in the bathroom for another. Giant choirs were built meticulously over multiple tracks, while the sound of a rat running through the reverb room would be captured forever. The results wrapped some of TV's best songs in strange and inventive sounds to compliment his anti-pop smarts and rock and roll heart. They did not know it at the time, but the band was falling apart. Tensions would soon rise to the level that replacement players were called in to finish their final tour. Punk fans left them in droves. Critics skewered the singles from the album. Their record label had moved on to the next big thing. Feeling that they had reached a creative peak made the tumble even harder to swallow. Time has been very kind though, and fans discovering punk after the first wave have been able to hear "Cast" for what it is - a brilliant and biting collection of rock and roll. Still full of stomp and swagger even when stripped down on "My Place" or via the anthemic surge of "Television's Over", with TV's hook factory on full display on the anti-love song "Love Songs", and the band closing the album with the creeping ballad "I Will Walk You Home"; The Adverts had grown from a great punk rock band to a great rock band. Black vinyl.

Red in Clear Vinyl. First compiled as a double CD in 2002, Moon's Milk (in Four Phases) is a suite of four EPs that Coil released seasonally via their in-house Eskaton imprint across 1998. The line-up for these sessions were John Balance, Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson, Drew McDowall, and William Breeze. Recorded primarily at their home studio in Chiswick, London on the eve of a permanent relocation to the small seaside town of Weston-super-Mare, the collection has long loomed as a pivotal and pinnacle work in the group's discography, but has never been officially reissued, or repressed on vinyl. Time has only ripened its tapestry of regal strangeness.Arranged sequentially in tribute to the equinoxes and solstices, Moon's Milk captures Coil at a revelatory crossroads, leaning deeper into improvisation, spontaneity, and sound design. "Moon's Milk or Under an Unquiet Skull" initiates the proceedings on Spring Equinox, a two-part netherworld organ séance woven from vocal drones, cathedral keys, seasick strings, and opiated undertow. From there, Summer Solstice skews lighter but no less incantational, with Balance embracing his voice-as-instrument across lucid dream torch songs ("Bee Stings"), purgatorial spoken word ("Glowworms/Waveforms"), sultry chamber pieces ("Summer Substructures"), and falsetto ravings ("A Warning From The Sun (For Fritz)").Autumn Equinox exudes more of a pensive and twilit mood, from the Rose McDowall-sung folk ballad "Rosa Decidua" ("I hear your voice sing near to me / I've put away the poisoned chalice (for now) / And lie down amongst the flowerbeds") to hall-of-lords hallucination "The Auto-Asphyxiating Hierophant" to the liminal string-plucked classic "Amethyst Deceivers," featuring excellent alien guitar by Breeze layered with Balance's oft-quoted couplet: "Pay your respects to the vultures / For they are your future."The album's final chapter, Winter Solstice, is its most swooning, remote, and ceremonial. Opener "A White Rainbow" stirs strings, layered choral vocals, and shivering rhythm into an imploding burial hymn. "North" oscillates bleakly, a ghost in the machine murmuring opaque prophecy ("This black dog has no owner / This black dog has no odour"), while "Magnetic North" is its inverse, a guided meditation of gently flickering software and surreal chakra poetics ("Red rose filling the skull / Yellow cube in the lower pelvis / Silver moon crescent below the navel"). The suite fades to grey with a traditional English carol ("Christmas Is Now Drawing Near"), rendered like an executioner's song by Rose McDowall's doomed, beautiful voice.The Dais box set includes the entirety of the rare Moon's Milk Bonus Disc CD-R / 2019 Threshold Archives CD, which includes three collaborations with Thighpaulsandra. This material is as rich and intoxicating as the previous four phases, ranging from electro-acoustic singing bowl rituals ("Copal") to dissonant electronic recitations of visionary Angus MacLise poetry ("The Coppice Meat") to ominous classical melancholia ("Bankside"). Once again, Coil confirm the vastness of their confounding, infinite alchemy, explored and refined across decades of experimentation - both sonic and bodily. From post-industrial to post-everything, theirs is an art untethered, in the wilds of its own design.

'Tape 1' is a cut & paste collection of original productions & edits by London's Samson A.K that navigates the gamut of outsider sounds whilst somehow remaining coherent. Apart from the rawness of the music the common thread seems to be its slightly unhinged quality and its irreverent take on the dystopia of modern life.

There's plenty of nods to the sub cultures that have informed Samson A.K along the way but plenty besides, and as moody as it is in places, it's certainly not taking itself too seriously. The genre thing doesn't really work when here but if you like skewed electronics & beats, but also go for antisocial guitar music this will probably connect.

Mastering by Miles Whittaker / Design by Jon K

First vinyl edition pressed on Cirrostratus Cloud colored vinyl and includes a "Footlong" OBI.

Underground lifer Nick Sakes returns on the debut LP from Upright Forms. The tight-knit Minneapolis trio feels like the culmination of Sakes' varied and prolific career to date, bringing together the unhinged prog-punk ferocity of Dazzling Killmen & Colossamite with the careening chaos of Xaddax and the shout-along hooks and dynamic songcraft of Sicbay. Blurred Wires is skewed yet tuneful, challenging yet compulsively listenable, concise yet brimming with invention. The experience of a lifetime distilled to 33 rotations across a gripping 33 minutes.

Consider "They Kept on Living," a song that first appeared in an earlier version on the SKiN GRAFT comp Sounds to Make You Shudder!. It starts off with a grinding 7/4 groove, with cryptic lines over scratchy noise-punk chords. After a brief build, the band explodes into a massive chorus, with Sakes shouting the title line against a fist-pumping riff.

The trio sound equally convincing digging into the pummeling aggression of "My Lower Self," where Sakes' vocals start off as a feral snarl and then soar triumphantly during the chorus, or the soothing indie-pop hush of the Paster-penned "Drive at Night."

Various "tug-at-your-heartstrings" touchstones informed "Long Shadow". Sakes channeled Television Personalities, cult heroes of melodic British post-punk, on "Animositine," which he accurately labels "our prettiest song."

Nearly 35 years into his career, Sakes is finding new ways to challenge himself -- and in Paster and Westphal, he's found two musicians who are equally comfortable with both the thorniest and the loveliest manifestations of underground rock. When they reflect on their chemistry, they agree that their openness to collaboration is, as Sakes puts it, "one of our superpowers."

On Blurred Wires, that superpower yields dynamic, challenging and profoundly memorable results.

Underground lifer Nick Sakes returns on the debut LP from Upright Forms. The tight-knit Minneapolis trio feels like the culmination of Sakes' varied and prolific career to date, bringing together the unhinged prog-punk ferocity of Dazzling Killmen & Colossamite with the careening chaos of Xaddax and the shout-along hooks and dynamic songcraft of Sicbay. Blurred Wires is skewed yet tuneful, challenging yet compulsively listenable, concise yet brimming with invention. The experience of a lifetime distilled to 33 rotations across a gripping 33 minutes.

Consider “They Kept on Living,” a song that first appeared in an earlier version on the SKiN GRAFT comp Sounds to Make You Shudder!. It starts off with a grinding 7/4 groove, with cryptic lines over scratchy noise-punk chords. After a brief build, the band explodes into a massive chorus, with Sakes shouting the title line against a fist-pumping riff.

The trio sound equally convincing digging into the pummeling aggression of “My Lower Self,” where Sakes’ vocals start off as a feral snarl and then soar triumphantly during the chorus, or the soothing indie-pop hush of the Paster-penned “Drive at Night.”

Various “tug-at-your-heartstrings” touchstones informed “Long Shadow”. Sakes channeled Television Personalities, cult heroes of melodic British post-punk, on “Animositine,” which he accurately labels “our prettiest song.”

Nearly 35 years into his career, Sakes is finding new ways to challenge himself — and in Paster and Westphal, he’s found two musicians who are equally comfortable with both the thorniest and the loveliest manifestations of underground rock. When they reflect on their chemistry, they agree that their openness to collaboration is, as Sakes puts it, “one of our superpowers.”

On Blurred Wires, that superpower yields dynamic, challenging and profoundly memorable results.

Limited Edition MOD Compact Disc in Digipak Lite packaging."

Dennis Brown's roots classic "Milk and Honey" freshly remastered,
complete with Clive Hunt's original "Bitter Sweet" dub (under his Azul
moniker) on the A Side
On the B side, Jay Glass Dubs unfolds a skewed and deconstructed
contemporary dub. Strictly limited- edition white label vinyl. Once it's gone its
gone.