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A little over a year ago, Nathan Williams found himself back in San Diego, writing what would eventually become Hideaway, his seventh album as Wavves, in a little shed behind his parents’ house. It was also the place where he made some of his earliest albums, before he became known for his uncanny ability to write songs that sneered at the world while evoking pathos, sympathy, and a deep understanding of how sometimes we’re our own worst enemies, and that can be okay. Williams’ return to his childhood home was not just a symbolic attempt at jumpstarting creativity. It came as a result of a series of major life changes. A decade ago, Williams released King of the Beach on the maverick indie label Fat Possum. The album was a cocky collection of pop punk gems that catapulted him into the public consciousness, eventually prompting a jump from Fat Possum into the major label system, where he released two albums before becoming disillusioned by the lack of creative agency available to him. In 2017, Williams self-released You’re Welcome on his label, Ghost Ramp. Now, Williams has returned to Fat Possum with a barbed collection of anxious anthems that grapple with the looming sense of doom and despair that comes with getting older in an increasingly chaotic world. “He’ll always skew toward the Bart Simpson character,” says Matthew Johnson, founder of Fat Possum. “But that does not mean that he doesn’t have some commentary, and once in awhile, it’s totally spot on.” Across its brief but impactful nine tracks, Hideaway is about what happens when you get old enough to take stock of the world around you and realize that no one is going to save you but yourself, and even that might be a tall order. The album features Williams’ most universal and urgent songs yet. “Honeycomb” lopes along sunnily, as Williams sings affecting lines like “I feel like I’m dying, it’s cool, it’s great, just pretend I’m okay.” His directness is shocking, and proof that Williams is the kind of songwriter who can capture pain and uncertainty with resonant brutal force. “It’s real peaks and valleys with me,” Williams says. “I can be super optimistic and I can feel really good, and then I can hit a skid and it’s like an earthquake hits my life, and everything just falls apart. Some of it is my own doing, of course.” It’s this self awareness that permeates each of Hideaway’s songs, marking them each as mature reckonings with who he is. After realizing the material he’d been working on in the hideaway was starting to take shape, Williams, along with bandmates Stephen Pope and Alex Gates workshopped the songs in a series of now-abandoned studio sessions, before linking up with musician and producer Dave Sitek of TV on the Radio to help fully realize their new songs.

Not Waving renders his pop soul on a definitive album opus ‘How To Leave Your Body’, starcrossed with guest appearances by Jim O’Rourke, Jonnine Standish, Marie Davidson, Spivak and Mark
Lanegan
An escapist parable for the times, Alessio Natalizia marks a career high with his most sensitive production and songwriting illuminated by a coterie of notable collaborators. Its 11 songs deal with the necessity of friendship, the fragility of loss and spiritual transcendence via a spectrum of strategies that ultimately arrive at a mutual conclusion: love is the message. It packs sample amounts of nostalgia into a fantasy sequence of elegiac pop, skewed rave and midnight lullabies that fine-tune over 20 years of devotion to his craft, perfectly matching experimental restlessness with enduring pop appeal.
Perhaps unavoidably, circumstances had a hand in the creation of ‘How To Leave Your Body’, forcing Natalizia to work with collaborators remotely. Yet the strength of his bonds bleeds through in the album’s handful of poignant vocal pieces, none more so than the hushed intimacy of Marie Davidson on the bewitching downbeat trance hymn ‘Hold On’, but also in the bruised blush of ‘My Sway’ featuring Jonnine’s spine-tracing lilt over hovering organ and dembow bumps, while the hook-up with Mark Lanegan once again yields bittersweet fruit on ‘Last Time Leaving Home Part 2’, with gravelly blues vox diffused into detuned, miasmic cello that really tugs.
Effortless and made for rinsing, the whole album is testament to the humility and pathos of Natalizia’s oeuvre, which has gotten better with age. It plays out like a lovingly crafted mixtape, decanting all original material with a classic cadence and fleeting play of styles, from aerial jazz notes in ‘You Are Always Younger Than The Future’, to the gnawing club grind of ‘Define Normal’, a noisily gurning ‘Self-Portrait’, and the lushly resolved admittance of ‘My Best Is Good Enough.’
Comparisons don’t really work with this one, it’s just Not Waving.

On their new studio album, The Murlocs share a
collection of songs reflecting on the people who
leave a profound imprint on our lives, the saviours
and hellraisers and assorted other mystifying
characters.
The Murlocs (whose line-up includes two members
of King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard) recorded at
Button Pushers Studio in Melbourne, Australia,
dreaming up a prismatic sound that pinballs from
sunshine-pop to blues-punk to wide-eyed
psychedelia.
What emerges from these 11 infectious tracks is
their most personal and boldly confident work yet.
LP pressed on ‘Blue Eyed Runner’ Edition white
with baby blue splatter vinyl.

Straight Outta Caledonia is the first commercially available “Greatest Hits” of the outsider songwriter Jackie Leven, an artist
who has largely remained in obscurity in his native Scotland despite being one of the greatest wordsmiths – and singers – it ever
produced. A well-travelled musician who began making psychedelic, progressive music in the late 60s before emerging as an
epic storyteller full of pathos, humour and humanity in the 90s, Leven lived and wrote like many of the fragile, gregarious
characters of his songs; large, full of life and empathy. Leven passed away in 2011 after recording 30+ albums under different
guises or with his briefly successful New Wave band Doll by Doll. Straight Outta Caledonia is a compilation collated by Night
School Records on its Archival label School Daze that seeks to introduce Leven’s music to new generations.
In an age of isolation, alienation and loss of visceral experience, Jackie Leven’s music can be massive and welcoming. It feels
connected to some universal humanity and vibrates with vitality. His songs are often full of tragedy and comedy simultaneously,
cutting straight to the heart, often plugging directly into the nervous system of the listener. His lyrics are rich, dense with imagery
that can veer from apocalyptic to the comically banal in a sentence, with a songwriting panache that can be heavy handed to
almost bursting point before skewering the song with a clownish, warm punchline. His productions ranged from Bob Dylan’s
Rolling Thunder Revue style rock band orchestrations with strings and organ as on the epic Ancient Misty Morning or they could
be pared down to the purest form of folk song as on Poortoun: Leven on stage alone with an acoustic guitar, albeit played with a
mastery of the instrument that he often only hinted at. Musically his sound can bend traditional structures or stay completely
confined within them yet still forever push towards an ecstatic release, as on the cinematic Snow In Central Park.
The most exciting, jaw-droppingly effective tool at Leven’s disposal was his voice. A multi-octave instrument that, though
damaged during a savage assault in Fife, he used with flair; he had both a brazen disregard for the rules and a deep humility, all
of which is evidenced with every phrasing. A baritone that could flit up through the register – always touched by his gentle
Kirkcaldy accent – it’s the prime delivery method for his songs. Leven’s voice enabled him to inhabit the characters in his songs to
an uncanny degree, a skill that in turn enables the listener to empathise with them and, subsequently, the singer. It’s most evident
in stand out song The Sexual Loneliness Of Jesus Christ, a breathtaking re-telling of the life of its protagonist, not as a pure,
sinless messiah but as a sexually frustrated, solitary man condemned to an existential loneliness no one else will ever feel. In
many ways the track is the archetypal Jackie Leven song. Produced by Pere Ubu’s David Thomas, what strikes the ear first –
after the samples of unemployed workers in Glasgow following the closing of the Clyde shipyards – is the audacious, rhythmic
tremolo effect Leven employs through the verses before the production opens up to allow Leven’s vocal to lift into a soar, a
freeing glide powered both by the force of the singer’s chutzpah and the inherent, doomed destiny of the protagonist. With any
other singer such subject matter could come across as gauche or worse, pretentiously sonorous, but Jackie Leven’s genius was
such that he could be this cinematic and brazen while touching something elemental and true in the beholder. It’s a skill evident in
every song on Straight Outta Caledonia, the trademark of a songwriter who revelled and excelled in intensity with a lightness of
touch.
In his lifetime, Jackie Leven toured, wrote and recorded at a ferocious rate. He recorded under aliases to avoid record contract
restrictions, played house shows in Europe after or instead of official concerts, events which were often spoken word story telling
masterclasses as well as performances of his often bewilderingly dense songbook. His music has traditionally been catalogued
as “folk” music and has been largely banished to a small, dedicated group of international fans and apostles both private and well
known, like author Ian Rankin or Glenn Matlock. Since his passing in 2011 however, there has been a growing recognition
amongst a newer generation, with artists like James Yorkston or Molly Nilsson publicly stating the influence of the unsung
troubadour on their own craft. Jackie Leven’s fairytales for hard men are often forensic deconstructions of masculinity, sad and
ecstatic, light and shadow, always endlessly rich, a resource as bountiful as Leven himself’s human spirit undoubtedly was.

Clear vinyl LP (VIRUS500LPX) is for Indies only and is very limited.

Political punk rock legend returns with a much needed current situation skewering. First release in six years! Features supergroup of members of UK Subs, The Mob, Victims Family, Triclops and more!

Hot on the heels of five viral video singles, Tea Party Revenge Porn, the first full album since 2014 by Jello Biafra And The Guantanamo School Of Medicine, is finally here! This is very strong stuff. Hear the inimitable Mr. B skewer the place the country has put itself in like no one else would or could as he and The Guantanamo School Of Medicine capture the full power of their live shows on disc as never
before.

Only so many artists have a track record of lyrics this good, and back it up with music as good or better. It’s usually one of the other, but rarely this fierce, thanks to the wall of sound production of the mysterious Marshall Lawless, with Kurt Schlegel at the board this time. Co-conspirators now feature both string-titans of longtime AT mainstay Victims Family: guitarist Ralph Spight (also Freak Accident) and wonder bassist Larry Boothroyd (also Triclops, Brubaker); plus drummer / metal percussionist Jason Willer (UK Subs, Nik Turner, Charger, The Mob).

So as germs and police riots rage, there’s no better primal scream therapy than a long-awaited new Jello Biafra album. From Dead Kennedys to Lard to the now-classic albums with the Melvins, DOA, NoMeansNo, Mojo Nixon; and of course, The Guantanamo School Of Medicine, Tea Party Revenge Porn is right up there with all of it.

Swedish producer and electronic enthusiast Rivet (Mika Hallbäck Vuorenpää, Malmö) joins the Editions Mego fold with a dynamic and diverse album that pivots between the punctuated pop of Ivan Pavlov's COH project, the chromatic slink of Chris and Cosey whilst also bearing a degree of fruit birthed from Hallbäck's home country Sweden in skewered pop such as The Knife.

This is electronic music born from the worship of machines and the spirit of punk, mood music brooding with sophistication and subversive twists all underscored with a deep industrial pulse. Are these songs? Are these lyrics? Words melt as beat perpetually takes us deeper into flight.

Interpretation is flung open as the audience are invited to gauge what on earth is going on here. Are Sooty Wing Flecks a minuscule species of half keyboard half vocoder chatter? Is Gleitende Liebe to be trusted or simply laying out a guide for disorientation? Pearling Woes is a queasy ballad sung by a robot on a very special comedown. Keloid knows exactly where the party can be now whereas Sodden Healer is an uber ride sans mask to destinations dark and unknown. Throughout this trip sharp snares punctuate ghost melodies as vocals rise and vaporise. Shadows hover the walls leaving holographic traces of the duality between fun and fear, the unexpected drifts diagonally across the audio plane teasing and taunting the listener in a unique blend of industrial, techno, pop and experimental forms.

On Feather and Wire album is a deep absorbing trip through multiple moods, genres and guises, as mysterious as it is engaging and one to ingest in a single sitting, lying back, sitting up, standing up and yes, even dancing. Let the angels and angles, the voices and distorted faces take shape before your mind. Who is Ordine Kadmia? What are they saying to me, here we go, on and on...

With it's haunted vocals, coded linguistics and dark sensual propulsive atmosphere On Feather and Wire is a sublime contemporary techno pop trip both psychedelic and subversive.

Written and produced by Mika Hallbäck Vuorenpää

Post-production by Mika Hallbäck Vuorenpää and Benny Liberg at Inkonst Studio Malmö
Mixed by Oscar Mulero at Dead Souls Studio Gijón
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Images by Dimitrios Bizios
Artwork by Nik Void

The saga of composer Tim Story's 1982 debut is a case study in the shifting sands of the early progressive music industry. Recorded on a Tascam 4-track reel-to-reel in his basement bedroom in Whitehouse, Ohio using a ragtag array of equipment – salvaged vibraphone, pawn shop Les Paul, his mother's spinet piano, a PAiA synth kit assembled by his girlfriend's father, and a Yamaha CS-30 – Story optimistically dubbed six cassettes and sent them around the world. Following a polite rejection from Klaus Schulze, the French avant-garde label Atem (This Heat, Univers Zero, Art Zoyd) reached out with an offer to release Threads via their new instrumental electronic subdivision, Labyrinthes. After several letters confirming terms of the arrangement as well as multiple rounds of test pressings, correspondence suddenly ceased. Some months later the label folded, never having begun. Synchronistically, however, Schulze's copy ended up in the glovebox of an engineer associate, who happened to play it for a couple visiting journalists with contacts at a newish Norwegian imprint, Uniton Records (Popul Vuh, Harold Budd).

Impressed, they connected Story to the label head, but by then he'd already recorded a follow-up, the more neoclassical-leaning In Another Country, which became his inaugural release. Finally, 40 years later, Dais Records is rectifying history's error by properly issuing Threads on vinyl for the first time. It's a beautiful, beguiling work, exploratory but emotive, documenting, as Story puts it, “the path not taken... like the first chapter of a book that was set aside to begin another.” Despite only being in his early twenties at the time of its creation, Threads feels finessed and considered, weaving through a diverse spectrum of moods and minimalist melodies. From sunburst synthesizer devotionals (“Tethered By A Thread”) to shadowy cosmic drift (“Without Waves,” “Iso”) to fragile piano vignettes (“Burst,” “Scene And Artifact”), Story's compositional instincts skew subtle and sophisticated, carving gemstones of fluctuating radiance. He cites his discovery of tape loops as a central tool in the process, allowing him to generate recurring patterns of echoes and texture, decaying in volume and fidelity as desired: “A whole new and inspiring world opened up.” As both time capsule and discographical fountainhead, Threads vividly captures the threshold sensation of early 1980's electronic music: post-kosmische, prenew age, before ambient became codified, just as synthesizers began slipstreaming into the underground. It's an album of beginnings and forking paths, inner space voyaging towards limitless horizons, born of “youthful dedication to something one loves, in a world that feels uncertain.”

· First ever vinyl edition, originally set to be released in 1982 but due to original label's untimely demise, it was never issued until now.

· Collaborative releases with Hans-Joachim Roedelius and Dwight Ashley, with releases on notable labels Uniton, Windham Hill, and Hearts of Space.

· For fans of Harold Budd, Brian Eno, Roedelius, Nils Frahm, Klaus Schulze, Popol Vuh, Vangelis, Jean-Michel Jarre · The song "A Thousand Whispers" has been in regular rotation at Sirius XM.

· Tim Story is a Grammy nominated artist in 1988 for his "Legend of Sleepy Hollow" recording with Glenn Close.

Digging deep through old and new, Basso captures arcane woodland fusion, serene electronic suites and wide eyed Balearic bliss on this first Growing Bin compilation.

This collection celebrates those precious records which land in your life on their own terms. Even the most advanced digger will admit that chance is the secret ingredient in any successful haul. Sure, it helps if you know where to look, but if you arrive a day early at that secluded second hand shop, or an hour late at the convention, you might miss out on a rare sight of sound. But there are still ways to skew the odds in your favour. Even in the most crowded urban environment, a solitary tree soon becomes a nest, and Basso's fostered an abundant garden in his Hamburg hometown. A decade on and the Growing Bin is a safe haven for those exquisite sounds crowded out of the mainstream, the rare birds with the most striking song.

'Coffee' comes right after cocoa in the bin's headquarter, though start your morning with One Tongue and be prepared for a different kind of day. A witch's brew spiced with a hint of Durian and the early bird, this 1990 composition could be the blueprint for the Teutonic trance dancers beloved by the Salon set. A more meditative magic flows through the A2, a smooth blend of fusion guitar, softly syncopated drums and counterpoint keys from one time art-rockers Inandout. This Growing Bin favourite from their '93-95' LP sounds right at home beside the majestic melodies and spheric bass of Matthias Raue's 'Brücke am schwarzen Fluss 2'. Taken from the soundtrack to a TV drama filmed in Mali, this digital homage to African rhythm shimmies in step with New Age dancers from Mkwaju Ensemble and Louis Crelier. The A-side ends with the unbridled optimism of Kosmische maverick Hardy Kukuk. The synthesist hit the studio with friends Karsten Raecke and Andreas Schneider in 86, coalescing crystalline electronics and gentle guitar into tender chord progressions suited for sun bathing beside the Sea of Tranquility.

The second side slinks into motion with the deep beauty and sincere spoken word of Frank Suchland's 'Schnee', a subtle body in a cocoon of reverb which takes Sade's 'I Never Thought I'd See The Day' to another level of placidness. Melancholic Germans Die Fische met in Cairo for the first time, and 'Conversation Of Everyday Lovers' could be the theme for that great city. Underpinned by primal percussion and a restrained groove, the track twists and turns between a trio of ineffable motifs, eternal combinations to the catacombs of Abusir. From there we go sublime, soaring skywards with a ten minute triumph from Hugh Mane. Balancing concentric sequences and space age synth riffs atop an irresistible breakbeat and bubbling bassline, the British producer finds a sensuous sweet-spot between fellow Growing Bin affiliates Krakatau and Singu.

Lucky are we who hear the Bin's sounds.
Patrick Ryder

Close is the debut album from American Dreams Records founder & ONO member Jordan Reyes.
The album is comprised of six songs composed on modular synthesizer working in a rhythmic ambient, electronic realm - songs like ‘Quicksand’ are glacial and melodic while others like ‘Lost Machine’ skew to the kinetic.
On this album, Reyes mused on idea of sobriety, endurance, and being in a state of trance - wading deep in the patch cords of the eurorack synthesizer allowed him to reach a state of non-attachment, similar to running or biking a long distance. This kind of tunnel vision allowed him to perceive himself fading from the day-to-day and exist wholly inside the machine, becoming a more cybernetic organism.

As so many great schemes do, it started with a conversation in a pub. After several sporadic releases on Diffrent Music, including his renowned 2013 debut "Tongues", label boss Dexta wanted more music from Fearful. One thing led to another, and suddenly an album was in the works.

The result is "Interference"; a body of work that is reflective not only of the personal idiosyncrasies and aspirations of its London-based producer, but of an artist who has truly been set free of expectations.

Harnessing his own inbuilt need to defy convention, and looking to influences such as classical game soundtracks, experimental mastermind Amon Tobin, and the brooding tones of Akkord and Lorn, Fearful has crafted an album that's unpredictable yet cohesive, and definitive of his aim as an artist.

From the menacing ambient opener "Rocinante", through the glitchy techno of "The Traveler", skewed drum & bass of "Pulse 0" and "Through The Mist", to the roaring drone and pounding metal-inspired drumwork of closer "Gold To Dust", it's an album that demands full attention and repeat listening.

Nowhere is this free-roaming but pull-no-punches attitude summed up better than the title track. Building through eerie, twisted atmospherics - samples of electromagnetic interference, which can be found throughout the album - it clatters into a domineering breakbeat, before collapsing into a guttural, tribalist techno roller.

Where much of dance music draws on repetition, the concept of "Interference" is simple: progression. Whether that be changing motifs within tracks, switching genres within the album, or developing upon Fearful's own artistic strengths, it's an idea never more at home than on Diffrent Music, and we are very proud to present it.

Returning home after the acclaimed Holding EP and the highly regarded Clap! Clap! Remix, Lurka continues with his journey into sonic bat country. Partials kicks off with Lurka's typical intrigue, pads swell with distant spectres of percussion build into the most saturated kick of the year slapping you in the face like wet rag, while an architecture of syncopated hats and bit crunching snares lock the angles a shower of haunting bells falls. Dancehall for witching hour. Mach steps in with an equally holo-deck soundscape. Drums swing in awkward alliance with dry wooden blocks and woozy binary language. Both tracks united in their skewed viewpoint and distinctive awkward funk.

The second offering by Julie Carpenter’s textural orchestral entity Less Bells takes its title from a storied strain of decorative objects worn in remembrance of lost loved ones: Mourning Jewelry.
The album shares a similar mood of devotional pageantry, stirring ornamental laments born from a need to “create beauty out of grief.” Utilising an amalgam of strings, synthesisers, and choirs, the pieces ascend and descend in grand, glimmering arcs, ebbing from passages of “baroque complexity” to expanses of haunting emptiness. Certain songs also skew more overtly western than ever before, deeply reverbed plucks of banjo refracted against glowing horizons of sunrise drone: Americana gone ambient.

Furthering the music’s mystic intentionality, the track titles comprise “the major arcana of a tarot deck from an alternate universe,” lorded over by the “Queen Of Crickets,” ruler of “The Gates,” “The Fault,” and “The Fang.” Even so, the record requires no psychic divination to glean its fragile majesty, its muted tumult of mirage and melody. The beauty it possesses is too blatant, and bountiful.

Still deeper forays into the musical landscape of the Windrush generation. A dazzling range of calypso, mento, joropo, steelband, palm-wine and r’n'b. Expert revivals of stringband music, from way back, alongside proto-Afro-funk. An uproarious selection of songs about the H-Bomb and modern phones, prostitution and Haile Selassie, mid-life crisis and the London Underground, racism and solidarity, the Highway Code and a 100% West Indian Royal Wedding.
For example some frantic British-Guianan joropo music-hall about Eatwell Brown from Clapham, who starts out biting off a piece of his mother-in-law’s face at a party, then devours everything in his path… a chunk of Brixton Prison, a Union Jack, a policeman’s uniform. Or Marie Bryant — collaborator of Lester Young and Duke Ellington — taking time off from skewering the South African PM Daniel Malan at her West End revue, to contribute some arch, swinging filth about uber-genitalia. Superior sound, courtesy of Abbey Road, D&M and Pallas; lovely gatefold sleeve; full-size booklet, with full notes, and fabulous previously-unseen photographs, including a set from the family archive of Russ Henderson (who led the first, impromptu Notting Hill Carnival march, in 1966).

When Elena Colombi launched the Osàre! Editions label in the autumn of 2019, she explained that the label would become home to bold, daring, future-facing music rooted in experimentation and free-spirited musical abandon. These are all descriptions that could apply to the label’s latest release, a retrospective album of little-known works by Greek musician and producer Thanasis Zlatanos.

Many will not have heard of Zlatanos, or Nekropolis, the band he fronted alongside dear friend and regular collaborator Trygve Mathiesen, yet the music he made during the 1980s was otherworldly, intergalactic and undoubtedly alluring. These songs and instrumentals made extensive use of analogue synthesizers and lo-fi drum machines, as well as Zlatanos’s trusted Gibson Les Paul guitar and his own distinctive voice.

Stylistically, the musician and producer refused to settle on a specific sound, preferring instead to create inspired, often mind-altering pieces that join the dots between wave music, skewed leftfield pop, ambient, prototype electronic and Madedonian folk music. Operating for much of the period from a crumbling house earmarked for demolition, Zlatanos kept up a daily music-making vigil that resulted in a vast vault of music, most of which has remained unissued since the 1980s.

The breadth of and width of Zlatanos’s distinctive approach is laid bare on Retrospective, a compilation album prepared by Colombi and the artist himself that draws on tracks from his numerous albums, those by Nekropolis – whose sophomore set “The New Europeans” was banned in Norway – and his epic archive of previously unheard material.

The artist’s singular but wide-ranging musical vision is free for all to see across the 13 tracks stretched across the vinyl version of the album (digital buyers also get a further four superb cuts). It veers attractively from the ghostly, traditional-meets-futuristic new age electronica of “The Crystal Sight (Excerpt)” and the doom-laden coldwave throb of “Master Chameleon”, to the undulating, soft-touch creepiness of “Surreal Moment”, the Vocoder-laden operatic poignancy of “The New Barbarians” and the squally guitar solos and effects-laden electronics of “The Light”.

Words from the artist___:
"I live in the Internet. Visits from outer space make me compose. I breathe here. I am the master chameleon, the psychedelic clown. I am not here anymore, neither in the picture, nor the reflection. Our bed is a boat that takes us tomorrow without us.

Here is an album of dreams and digital emotions. Analogue recordings made with a Prophet, a Moog Rogue, a tape recorder and a Gibson Les Paul guitar.

As far as I can remember I have always been in a recording studio. I listen to, understand and live my life through songs and music. I have worked alone and with friends such as Trygve Mathiesen. Although I am a guitarist, I continue to work with synthesizers on music that blends elements of Macedonian folk music, recordings from the streets and embryonic electronic sounds.

Some of my albums have been critically acclaimed, others banned by radio stations. For years I worked on endless recording sessions in a crumbling house that should have been torn down. The music on this retrospective compilation was recorded at various points between 1982 and the present day. Some of the compositions first appeared on previous albums, while others have never been released before. They were sat on tapes waiting for a saviour. Now that saviour has arrived and they can be free.

For further proof of Zlatanos’s unique sonic approach, check the startling contrast between the bass-laden slacker pop headiness of “No Expectations” and the spacey ambience of “The Dead Don’t Remember”. Considered together, the selected pieces and those elsewhere on Retrospective forms a snapshot of a genuinely unique and visionary musician, composer and producer. It’s a celebration of someone whose work has previously been overlooked."

"Nicolas Gaunin's surreal sound experiments lift you out of the everyday and transport you to an off-world Tiki lounge set high amongst the tree tops of a tropical rainforest, where you're surrounded by bizarre, colourful creatures and weird psychotropic plants. Noa Noa Noa is modern Dada, a neon soundtrack to your most outlandish fever dreams.
Nicolas Gaunin is the alter ego of Nicola Sanguin, part of the vibrant experimental music scene around Padua, Italy where he plays in outsider rock groups The Lay Llamas and Orange Car Crash. Nicolas Gaunin is his solo electronic project, a bright and playful cosmic mash-up that uses the rhythms of traditional African percussion groups and skews them slightly to create unsettling, off-kilter grooves. These drum machine experiments are laid over a teeming microscopic sound world of bird calls, insect chatter and weird jingles reminiscent of advertising earworms or video game soundtracks.
Noa Noa Noa takes its influences from music from around the world, and inspiration from high and low culture; from composer Gyorgy Ligeti to the cosmic sounds of Italian DJ Danielle Baldelli, from the experimental music of Moondog or Harry Partch to the playful sounds of Francis Bebey or the exotica of Martin Denny, from Iannis Xenakis to 8-bit video game music. Noa Noa Noa ends up sounding something like the imaginary soundtrack to the Nintendo Gameboy version of a lost William S. Burroughs novel.
Incredibly, most of the tracks on Noa Noa Noa were recorded live in one take with the express intention of creating music that is, in contrast to much of today's electronic music, bright, sunny, light-hearted and mischevious. The resulting album is both totally essential and also completely throwaway.
These tracks were originally released in 2018 by Artetetra Records (Italy) as Noa Noa (cassette & digital) and Danse de l'Oiseau (digital only). Hive Mind Records are proud to present Noa Noa Noa on vinyl for the first time."

Director Amanda Kramer’s prompts for composer Ben Babbitt’s soundtrack to her enigmatic film Paris Window read like magnetic fridge poetry – “warped ambient bumper muzak tension” – but the results skew closer to some hypnagogic contemporary noir: lulling, low-lit, and laced with lingering dread. Electronics, strings, and percussion swoon and seethe in heady mirages of dreams and delirium, romance and menace. The narrative it accompanies is equally opaque and out of time: two eccentric siblings psychologically unravel through divergent fixations, one obsessed with the hypnotic infomercials of a mysterious self-help institute while the other falls in love with an ambiguous doppelganger.
Babbitt’s background scoring experiential video games (Kentucky Route Zero) and collaborating with exploratory songwriters (Angel Olsen, Weyes Blood, Eartheater) is evident in his versatility and finesse, flowing fluidly between minimal and maximal modes. Like all dynamic film music, the pieces weave a story of their own. Serene synthetic swells decay into murmuring television static and eerie vocal fragments; close-mic’d drones turn acidic then claustrophobic, mirroring sleep paralysis transformed into panic. Babbitt builds a window into a surreal world, seen through shadows and smeared, street-lit glass.

It’s with a pride filled, yet heavy, heart that Schrödinger’s Box bid a welcoming return to the uncrowned King of Acid, Andreas Gehm. After Cosmic Interrail come four tracks of acid scorn, corrosive jack and twisted spite. Under his own name, and the time honoured mantle of Elec Pt 1, Cologne’s 303 contortionist serves three works dripping in bitter bars and skewered by claps and snares. “Captain Future” sits outside of the quartet, a carnival outake of whirling lights and crashing cymbals. Pure quality from the Acid King. Yellow / marbled vinyl.

Shape-shifting left
coast producer Sage Caswell likens his latest full-length to a surrealist
architectural space: "I walk up to a building and Evil Twin is playing. A copy of
me is at the door and I let myself in. Inside the house is inside my head; each
room is a different song and emotion." A distinct dream sequence logic threads
together these nine nuanced tracks, which swerve from vaporous melancholy to
ecstatic motion to nocturnal wanderlust, alternately lucid and opaque.

Last year's relocation
from his beloved home base of Los Angeles to Madison, Wisconsin certainly played
a role, as pulling up roots inevitably does: "I love L.A. more than I can
properly articulate, but I saw an opportunity to leave so I took it." The
experience prompted an exploratory set of recordings inspired by notions of separation,
vulnerability, and "how it feels to identify the things in your life that don't
feel like you." Evil Twin captures
Caswell at his most fluid and dualistic, mapping a multi-hued maze of twisted rhythms
and refracted textures, fluctuating between beatific expanse and amniotic
bangers.
Previous releases for
Spring Theory and Far Away showcased Caswell's capacity for innerspace club
voyaging but here his vision skews even more vividly elusive, immersive and
immaterial, lost and found. The record's contradictions were deliberate and,
most importantly, therapeutic: "Evil Twin was intended to be as much a visual idea
as a soundtrack to feeling out of control. I didn't really want to talk about
it, so I made this album."

In 2017 Blair French came out of hibernation to release contrasting but similarly sun-kissed EPs on Rocksteady Disco and Claremont 56.

Here, he returns to action with a scintillatingly sunny and sensual six-tracker on NuNorthern Soul that may well be his strongest release to date.

Given French's chameleon-like musical history, that's certainly a bold claim.
Over the years, he's been a member of a multitude of musical collectives - most notably Cosmic Handshakes and Formless Figures - established his own DIY record label (Fat Finger Cosmic) and released music that touches on a dizzying array of styles, from award-winning movie soundtracks and Afro-fired deep house, to skewed techno, blissful ambience and experimental hip-hop.

On Patio Pastel, French is in full on sand-between-the-toes Balearic mood, delivering a range of lucid, ear-pleasing compositions that will sashay their way into your consciousness.
Contrast, for example, the drowsy organs, glistening pedal steel and undulating hand percussion of opener 'Patio Pastel' with the Serge Gainsbourg style chanson-goes-tropical bliss of 'La Playa De Tercipelo', which features some deliciously breathy vocals from Stephanie Lyon.

Then there's 'Morning Sail', a sumptuously evocative soundscape rich in toasty, dub disco bass, shuffling percussion and lilting, Jonny Nash style guitar solos (see also the effortlessly horizontal Lounsbury Gardens'), and the kaleidoscopic, saucer-eyed Balearic pop brilliance of ;'Human Make Human', where new age synthesizer melodies and the fuzzy vocal refrain of Kasi Seguin gentle dances above an Afro-flecked, mid-tempo groove.

Throughout the EP, French mixes electronic and acoustic instrumentation, drawing together musical elements from a myriad of styles to create sumptuous new fusions.
It's particularly evident on superb closer 'Belle Isle Sunsets', where colourful synth motifs, eyes-closed guitar riffs and Mediterranean-warm chords wrap themselves around a gently pulsating, impressively layered groove.
Like the rest of the EP, it's perfectly pitched, expertly executed and wonderfully atmospheric.

Italian sound designer and Soma alum Roberto Clementi steps up with a MOC-worthy release comprised of three original tracks with BNJMN on remix duties.

Standout track ' Plebiscite' makes a statement from the first bar with a pounding bassline. It's a clae peak time heavy-hitter that energizes with its shriek, alarm-like highs and understated yet powerful percussion.

Just off the stride of releasing his third studio album, BNJMN puts on his remixer hat to take on the leading track, adding an ethereal dimension through evocative pads and percussive rattles.

On the flipside, ' Evocate' skewes dark and minimalist with a simple lead and eerie-laden somber sequences. Simplicity proves itself just as compelling as more complex layering, rendering an overall dance-inducing atmosphere.

Acid-laced ' Cription' spells techno in a more experimental, non-kickdrum reliant manner. It's a refreshing take on the genre in a piece that is reminiscent of early rave days.

SRSQ (pronounced seer-skew) is the solo project of Kennedy Ashlyn (vocalist/keyboardist of Them Are Us Too). Creative voids aren't filled, but rather holes left that push the edges of the present into new realms of consciousness.

Ambient synthesizers that approach harshness, relentless arpeggiations act together with Kennedy's vocals as a lush weapon, weaving cloudlike fables over orchestration that's familiar and foreign. Trance-like at times, yet always rooted in cadence and structure, the synesthesia of sound and feeling takes cues from the delicate miasma of Cocteau Twins, My Bloody Valentine, or Dead Can Dance, using their example as the ground floor for building a new temple of frequency.

Fresh from releases on his own Polymath Records, as well as Natura Sonoris and Sodai, that have seen support from the likes of Maceo Plex, Bicep, and ANNA; UK producer Third Son debuts on Dusky's 17 Steps imprint with the 'Machine Love' EP.

The synth laden 4 tracker utilises electro, acid, techno and breakbeat influences to provide a rugged and bold reflection of the current clubbing landscape; one that is set to melt underground dance-floors this autumn.

'Machine Love's squelchy synths and gritty percussion build towards a chopped and skewed finale, that has proved a ferocious piece of club artillery in Dusky's sets this summer.

Next up is 'Bloodsport', a dance floor primed roller that consists of dusty breaks, squealing atmospherics and a meandering baseline. 'I Hear Laurel' follows, a cosmic alliance of ghostly vocals and hard hitting distorted synths that feels like meditative ode to rave music of the past. Closing the EP is 'Ambiturner', stacked with syncopated drums and twisting synths that scatter across the stereo stacks.

Invigorating, skewered electronica and bristling, off-kilter techno drive the first release in 15 years by Dublin electronic duo Ambulance (Sunken Foal & Dave Nuremburg), delivering the first EP on the Open Ear label, the latest adventure in sound from the eponymously-titled Irish music festival.

Previously of Planet Mu and Front End Synthetics, the Ambulance project had been put on hold in any capacity this decade until 2017 when they were invited to close out the 2nd edition of the Open Ear festival, Ireland's leading experimental & alternative electronic music festival. Inspired by this performance, the pair returned to the studio and the first fruits of this labour make up the Combover EP. This also marks the first release by Open Ear on it's label which, like the festival, will serve as a platform for experimental dance floor & avant-garde music from the Irish underground.

Kickstarting with the sprawling, ever-evolving, glitched funk of "Caitríona Chéile", the tense, paranoid techno of "Douche Noir" then takes over with the following "Luxury Crackers" keeping the unsettling atmosphere pitched up before it opens up to reveal aslightlygentler side. The EP closes with the *Greasy* title track, a collage of shimmering synthesisers, jittery, free-wheeling drums and oddball sampling, all reaching for air at the same time.

June 2018, Amsterdam, Nl: 12 Months Ago We Concluded A Series Of Experiments With A Test Subject Named Ben Penn. A Year On, We Decided To Repeat This Experiment At His Tilburg Base. Once Again, The Results Were Starting.
.
After Being Provided With A Sizeable Dose Of An Enhanced And Notably Stronger Derivative Of 4-ho Met (codenamed St011), Penn Not Only Reported Intense Hallucinations But Also Enhanced Music Production Capabilities. With The Aid Of Electronic Instruments And Hardware, He Worked Quickly, Producing Both His Trademark higher Level Inter-dimensional Funk' And Compositions That Defied Our Previous Expectations.

During The Early Stages Of His St011 Experience, Penn Completely Ignored The Provided Rhythm Composer And Instead Crafted A Colourful, Humid, Jazzy And Beat-free Track Entitled nix', Which Boasted Loose And Fluid Synthesizer Motifs. As His Hallucinatory Experience Intensified, Penn Giddily Tapped Out Tropical Rhythms On The Provided Beat-making Device, Smothering Them In Alien Electronics And Sticky Melodies. When We Asked What This Devilishly Good Cut Was Called, He Simply Replied: not Important'.

As The Test Went On And The Most Intense Symptoms Died Down, Penn Was Much Like His Old Self. Before The St011 Wore Off Completely, He Was Able To Finish Two Examples Of His Trademark inter-dimensional Funk': The Skewed, Introspective, Bassline-driven Wooziness Of ben' And The Mazy, Kaleidoscopic Goodness Of people'. The Latter Composition Was Particularly Potent And Ear Pleasing, Suggesting That His St011 Experience Had Finished On An Intense High.

"It was the most beautiful summer of my life."

Memories — places, vacancies, allusions — are fundamental characters in Mary Lattimore's evocative craft. Inside her music, wordless narratives, indenite travelogues, and braided events skew into something enchantingly new. The Los Angeles-based harpist recorded her breakout 2016 album, At The Dam, during stops along a road trip across America, letting the serene landscapes of Joshua Tree and Marfa, Texas color her compositions. In 2017, she presented Collected Pieces, a tape compiling sounds from her past life in Philadelphia: odes to the east coast, burning motels, and beach town convenience stores. In 2018, from a restorative station — a redwood barn, nestled in the hills above San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge — emanates Hundreds of Days, her second full-length LP with Ghostly International. The record sojourns between silences and speech, between microcosmic daily scenes and macrocosmic universal understandings, between being alien in promising new places and feeling torn from old native havens. It's an expansive new chapter in Lattimore's story, and an expression of mystied gratitude. A study in how ordinary components helix together to create an extraordinary world.

Awarded a residency at the Headlands Center for the Arts, Lattimore spent two summer months living with 15 fellow artists — writers, playwrights, musicians, poets, painters, activists, curators — in a cluster of old Victorian military buildings on the Northern Pacic Coast. Days offered solitude, Lattimore set up in a spacious barn, able to arrange her instruments at will. Nights welcomed new perspectives. "Hanging out with a lot of accomplished artists with poetic ways of looking at the world was really inspiring. My heart was in a bit of a tangle after leaving Philadelphia. I was holding onto things instead of moving forward. My time there was a nostalgia detox, a way to press reset in a healthy way. Also breathing in the freshest air in America, straight off of the ocean, felt good."

Throughout the shifting locales there is one consistent companion Lattimore engages: a 47-string Lyon and Healy harp. The instrument wires directly into her psyche. Pitchfork's Marc Masters posits, "she can practically talk through it at this point, she's created a language." The space and stillness of the Headlands afforded Lattimore freedom to her expand her vocabulary, to stretch out and experiment with layers of keyboard, guitar, theremin, and grand piano. Lattimore's voice sweeps beneath the plucks and washes of opener It Feels Like Floating,' enraptured by the winding current, and reappearing in the second minute of the immense "Never Saw Him Again." The track elevates towards a shimmering apex of static and percussion before organ drone yields to signature halcyon utters. As with much of Lattimore's work, the track titles are telling, "Baltic Birch" is a somber windswept march that sways gracefully out of step, a remembrance of a recent trip to Latvia where she was struck by the abandoned resort towns along the Baltic Sea. Hello From The Edge of The Earth' is an earnest reection of Lattimore's love of the natural world, recognizing the thresholds of varying terrains.

The album's fth track borrows its name from Lattimore's favorite line in Denis Johnson's short story Emergency' from Jesus' Son. A character, lost in a blizzard, reassesses a disjointed universe, a clash between curtains of snow and angels descending out of a brilliant blue summer: it isn't an apocalypse, it is a drive-in movie, with stars hovering above the lot, off the screen, in the throes of the Midwestern storm. This mix-up is disorienting and existentially tragic, Lattimore's darkly strummed piece is a melancholic parallel, mimicking Johnson's elegant suture attaching two remarkably discontinuous spaces.

Micro-revelations, not quite as bright as torn skies but nonetheless enlightening, were everyday occurrences during Lattimore's residency. Living small days with small tasks — feeling little dramas within the arcadian universe of a national park — rendered her the sense that disjointed spaces can be interconnected no matter the enormity that divides them. It's in this elastic scale of perception that something as simultaneously simple and intricate as Hundreds of Days can ourish.

- Second solo album for Ghostly, past releases on Thrill Jockey
- Recently toured w/ Sharon Van Etten, Jarvis Cocker, Kurt Vile, Steve Gunn, Julia Holter, Iceage
- Mary Lattimore has been featured on Pitchfork, NPR, The Wire Magazine, and more

- Latest ambient work from Fred Welton Warmsley III, formely known as Lee Bannon (hip hop producer and collaborator with Joey Bada$$, Souls Of Mischief, Hieroglyphics, and others)
- Former albums on labels such as Hospital Productions, Ninja Tune, NON
- Has received praise from Pitchfork, NPR, Boomkat

- Northern California electronic producer Fred Welton Warmsley III's solo work as Dedekind Cut
(pronounced dead-da-ken cut') has evolved from fractured industrial design into increasingly subdued and sublime ambient meditations across two years of dedicated activity. His second full-length collection, Tahoe—so named after the mountain lake town he now calls home—swells with widescreen grandeur, evoking vistas both inner and outer. There are echoes of his earlier, more tempestuous mode in tracks like MMXIX' and Spiral' but overall the album skews panoramic and pensive, muted synthetic mists contoured with choral melody, field recordings, and radiant drone. His compositional instincts feel alternately classical, contemporary, and conflicted, befitting an artist whose discography spans labels as divergent as Hospital Productions, Ninja Tune, and NON.

- Warmsley characterizes Tahoe as a time peace,' sifting through the past, the present, future, and fantasy.' Recorded primarily in New York, with additional sessions sourced from Berlin, Cambridge, and Placer County, California.

On this new EP, DJJ's trademark jagged take on filtered French house is still present, but with Chicago bump, techno and more random elements thrown in for good measure.I Keep Trying To Convince Myself is the tougher, more rugged and even funkier cousin to DJJ's hotly-hyped 2016 summer anthem just a lil. Chi house meets soca in this carnivalesque new classic, which hits the perfect spot between sweetness and dirt.Yn Y Ty is fast, jerky funk and almost a new genre in itself. Both melancholy and pumping, think DJ Rush meets the Tetris theme in an oddball, groovy-as-hell work of genius.The cut-up, loopy loops and tough, tribal beats on Apilli are deranged in a good way and - as with the rest of the EP - demonstrate a quirkiness and subtle humour akin to Basement Jaxx's early golden period.A big sample drives the jacking, sweaty, glitz of Upsqwar's warped take on handbag, which channels the spirit of Modjo and features a ponderous, almost chiptune melody drifting subtly over the top.The EP closes with the Greek flavoured stomper Glas, which wouldn't sound out of place on Richie Hawtin's 1999 mix album Decks, EFX & 909. This new EP is first release since jus a lil for Crazylegs, which gained high praise from NPR, Resident Advisor, Indie Shuffle, Mixmag, Dummy, Hyponik and FACT - who commissioned a video and coined the tongue-in-cheek genre name 'outsider Ibiza'. Comparisons have been made to Thomas Bangalter, Alan Braxe, Todd Edwards and David Morales - albeit a skewed reinterpretation. Like the punks' assimilation of rock and roll, DJJ's fresh and irreverent take on highlights from dance music history make for some of the most exciting sounds since Daft Punk's first forays.Although distorted and with lowered bit-rates, to call theses tracks 'low fi' is to do them a disservice, as DJJ's manipulation of frequencies, distortion and samples is deceptively simple yet not easily matched. There's a mastery of sonics and leftfield sensibility at play, akin to fellow EQ tweakers Heiroglyphic Being, Aphex Twin and Adrian Sherwood.DJJ is a member of the Bristol-based label/collective Crazylegs, alongside artists including Gage, Sudanim, Finn (all of whom remixed just a lil). He's also one half of ISLAND, whose grime-flavoured Nokia EP was release in 2015 - also on Crazylegs.

Following some ear-catching manoeuvres across releases like last year's self-released 'Only' and 'Lagata', which gained her early fans like Bjork and Dev Hynes (who she supported in the USA), 'Tommy' marks Klein's deepest plunge yet into the deep, dark ocean' of her musical imagination on her Hyperdub debut. On 'Tommy' her vocals play with Fifties-esque melodies before switching to familiar tones akin to Brandy and Rodney Jerkins, her live voice and live piano playing filtered through hyper-glitchy and looped production with a loose, internal logic, cutting from angular atonality to pockets of skewered harmony. 'Tommy' also steps things up in conceptual terms. Its eight tracks are broken down into acts that are rooted in themes of vulnerability, sisterhood and death, threading the chaotic sonics with modern operatic undertones and a Shakespearean sense of tragedy. There's a lot of bluster about originality in contemporary UK music and what rises from the noise here is a creative voice who, by her very nature, plays with the construct of what pop is. This is Klein's world ... it's on us to get with it.

THE ASSISTENZ is the culmination of a four year creative hot streak as vivid as any part of CRISTAN VOGEL's long career. The trio of dance oor-oriented records formed by 2012's The Inertials, 2014's Polyphonic Beings and now THE ASSISTENZ are sensual pleasures rst and foremost: a lifetime of study of frequencies and rhythms on the frontline of the world's clubs has been put into the creation of sounds that interface with the nervous system and emotional re- sponses with extraordinary immediacy. But there's much more too: together with the more ab- stracted album Eselsbru¨cke, these form an enticing sonic narrative, encoded themes running through them, each part revealing more about the whole. THE ASSISTENZ, then, is many things: a personal document, a tribute to Copenhagen where it was recorded and after whose famous cemetery it is named - but also the nal piece in this bigger puzzle, which unlocks untold secrets from the previous three records.

There's a deeper history, of course. CRISTIAN's productions going back to the start of the 1990s have woven their way into the fabric of underground culture. His own recent remasters of his early albums, and the Sub Rosa Classics 1993-1998 collections have shown just how potent his early work remains. But his new work exists in a very different world to those past works, and is far removed from the recent electronic generations who he has in uenced too. In fact, as you listen to THE ASSISTENZ, you realise that there's no point making comparisons with other elec- tronic producers at all. While you will certainly hear some of the most fundamental and enduring vectors of underground music - dub, electro, acid, funk - owing through the tracks, even those things are rebuilt from the molecular level, created completely afresh with new, precise, but some- what skewed vision.

CRISTIAN's understanding of music now is spectral. That is to say, with every step through his exploration of sound over the years, he has made more and more detailed analyses of the specif- ic frequencies that make up speci c sounds and produce speci c effects on the human mind and body. And as a result, his own sound synthesis - increasingly done via the Kyma programming platform - is more and more able to reach beyond the 'synthetic' and impact in uncanny and wonderful ways. The most obvious sense of this is the way his sounds touch on the human voice: not just in the chattering, shimmering, singing tones of THE ASSISTENZ's ghostly centrepiece 'Barefoot Agnete', in the alien radio signals of 'The Merman's Dream' or even in the subliminal 'aaah's hiding in the background of the noisy 'Vessels', but in the way any sound, anywhere in any track can sound peculiarly vocal, heard from the right angle.

And it's not just the boundary between human and non-human, or that between acoustic and synthetic, that get blurred to the point of non-existence. CRISTAN's creative methodology now is all about leaving you so uncertain about where anything came from, or what scale the sounds are operating on, that you have no choice but to let go of preconceptions and standardised criti- cal faculties and go with it. Sometimes that can take you to places where darkness and physical- ity close in on you as on 'Vessels' or 'Telemorphosis', or into haunted spaces on the edge of the void like those of 'Snowcrunch' and 'Barefoot Agnete', but even in those, there is euphoria. And in the voluptuousness of 'Hold' or the body-rocking funk of 'Cubic Haze', all the abstraction is grounded in the sheer pleasure of your own bodily responses to the sound.

So many of the science ction dreams of the 1990s are now (virtual) reality. We live in a time when social networks consciously manipulate our emotions, where data is money, where ma- chines learn, where images can't be trusted, and where the synthetic can feel more real than real. Over some 25 years, CRISTIAN's experiments have traced much of this weirdness and evolved with it, and his understanding of synthesis and algorithmic processes to create structure makes him one of the most important composers working today. But THE ASSISTENZ doesn't just ex- periment with the interfaces between mind, body and machine: it expresses those relationships in ways that are beautiful, troubling, moving and scary, and which even make you want to dance. Together with the preceding three albums it enacts a glorious, endlessly-explorable mapping of just what electronic music can do.

It is certainly not a small feat to have an ambient compilation series running for over a decade and keep it fresh and interesting - especially when the core aesthetic idea is as well-defined as POP AMBIENT's. However, this didn't keep last year's instalment (KOMPAKT 315 CD 120) from finding a compelling balance between veteran contributors like JENS-UWE BEYER or LEANDRO FRESCO and new, idiosyncratic voices like MAX WÜRDEN or THORE PFEIFFER. They all return for POP AMBIENT 2016, joining a captivating cast that also includes heavy-weight soundsmiths, experimental composers and ambient confidants like THE ORB, ANTON KUBIKOV of SCSI-9 fame, MIKKEL METAL, GREGOR SCHWELLENBACH or STEPHAN MATHIEU.

Starting off with a surprise guest, POP AMBIENT 2016 presents electroacoustic composer and installation artist STEPHAN MATHIEU, whose highly textured opening drone APRIL IM OKTOBER bears all the hallmarks of a pop ambient classic, stealthily weaving in layers of sound and moving fluidly between territories. The man clearly knows what he's doing - after all, he has worked with luminaries like Taylor Dupree, Ekkehard Ehlers, Janek Schaefer or Sylvain Chauveau (see also Pop Ambient 2009). Meanwhile, THE ORB show off the full extent of their experience in the field and have their own little ambient collage opera going on in ALPINE DAWN - a slight detour from their beat-laden full-length MOONBUILDING 2703 AD (KOMPAKT 330 CD 124), but just on that same level of masterful sonic dexterity.

Moving forward, SCSI-9's ANTON KUBIKOV builds momentum with a sweet melody slowly evolving to the atmospheric backdrop of a light synth rain, while MAX WÜRDEN imagines a dreamy, yet twisted underwater world with lots of space to get lost in. He later returns for a collaboration with THORE PFEIFFER (not on vinyl), the other newcomer hero from Pop Ambient 2015, and the result is a fascinating amalgamation of both producer's distinct sonic sensibilities - the grittier, drone-based approach from Würden and Pfeiffer's penchant for roaming samples and skewed loops. Another dedicated collab comes from SICKER MAN & GREGOR SCHWELLENBACH who team up for string-infused, cinematic epic TURNS.

Longstanding Kompakt ally MIKKEL METAL presents the surging TITAN, followed by LEANDRO FRESCO's magistral rework of DAVE DK's VEIRA from his VAL MAIRA album (KOMPAKT 326 CD 121). A very special bonus adventure can be found in THORE PFEIFFER's "megamix" of WOLFGANG VOIGT's RÜCKVERZAUBERUNG (not on vinyl) - an entire concept series succesfully reimagined as one sweeping cut. JENS-UWE BEYER continues his expeditions into hypnotic, semi-acoustic soundscapes on THE BREMEN, transitioning into the windy mountaintops of LEANDRO FRESCO's mysterious, multi-layered CONFIGURACION DE ATAQUE (not on vinyl). THORE PFEIFFER has the honour to conclude POP AMBIENT 2016 with the appropriately titled IDYLL, a soothing, swirling synth study giving the listener ample opportunity to return to mundane reality at his own pace.

“A Typical Night in the Pit” is a collection of new music by Los Angeles’ Nick Malkin. It is an album that finds the artist absorbed in the density and chaos of the urban complex. It is unquestionably an “LA album”, but not the LA of hi-fi listening bars and twinkling, Instagram-ready New Age. Rather, Malkin navigates something more akin to the LA found in the films of Robert Altman or Alan Rudolph — overheated, tense, hazy, frayed — with blue-lit, nocturnal compositions that at times recall Mark Isham’s noirish scores for those subversive (anti-)Hollywood pictures. Enlisting a revolving cast of LA experimentalists, Malkin has assembled a record that is as chameleonic as it is cohesive, offering up vignettes ranging from the skewed MIDI-jazz of “Sixth Street Conversation” to the skulking menace of “Estacionamiento Privado,” before giving way to the wide-eyed, cloudy closer “View From Two Perspectives.” C’mon, let’s go in here and get outta this heat.

Mastered by Kassian Troyer at D&M, Artwork by Alex McCullough and Niall Wynne Lewis.