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,Manchmal wird das Leben so düster, dass es sich wie ein böser Trip anfühlt", reflektiert Lily Seabird über die Zeit, die zur Entstehung ihres neuen Albums ,Lightspheres on Their Way" führte. Seabirds drittes Album innerhalb von ebenso vielen Jahren bei Lame-O Records beschäftigt sich mit Sterblichkeit und der Ehrfurcht vor dem Menschen Innersten und verbindet ihren trubadurhaften Folk mit einer grungigen Rock- Sentimentalität. Obwohl das Album aus einer Zeit der Abrechnung und Erneuerung hervorgegangen ist, orientiert Seabird ,Lightspheres on Their Way" an einem ganzheitlichen Realismus, der den Geist beflügelt, mit lockeren, erdigen Arrangements, die Intensität und Tiefe sowohl mit twangiger Weite als auch mit mitreißendem Drive verbinden. Über die neun Titel des Albums hinweg kreist die in Vermont lebende Sängerin und Songwriterin um das Konzept der ,Lichtkugeln", einer katalysierenden Präsenz oder Kraft, die immer wieder auftaucht und Geschichten, Gefühle und Lebenswege verändert. ,Eine Lichtkugel kann so vieles sein", sagt Seabird, ,ein tatsächliches Licht wie ein Stern, die Sonne, ein UFO; Scheinwerfer, eine Taschenlampe in der Nacht; aber auch das Leben, Lebewesen, Menschen, Beziehungen." Obwohl ,Lightspheres" einen Höhepunkt in Seabirds Songwriting markiert, betont sie, dass ,die emotionalsten Teile des Albums instrumental sind." Der Crazy-Horse-Stomp von ,Portal to the Past" und anderen Stücken geht in weitläufige, jamartige Zwischenspiele und Outros über, in denen Seabird und Rick Soszynski sich an verzerrten, rauen Gitarrenklängen erfreuen. Sie wirken wie Momente der emotionalen Entspannung, als würde man die Fenster herunterkurbeln und sich der Weite der offenen Straße hingeben. Lightspheres ist ein Beweis dafür, welche Tiefen man in seiner Kunst erreichen kann, wenn man aufhört, die Geschichte dessen zu erzählen, was einem widerfahren ist, und stattdessen darüber spricht, wer man ist.

“Man has such a predilection for systems and abstract deductions that he is ready to distort the truth intentionally, he is ready to deny the evidence of his senses only to justify his logic”
Fyodor Dostoevsky - Notes from Underground (1864)

The Intermittent Signal is the sound of resistance.

In the year since The Sick Man Of Europe’s debut album was released, the world has moved on. Steady hands have slipped from the levers of power, logic has shifted underground and the message grows more urgent with every passing day.

Repetition has been relearned and the machine rhythms repurposed, this time with increased intensity. Arrangements have moved beyond the bare bones economy of the first record and there’s a newfound melodicism in places. Clarity and conviction ring true through the static and noise, while utopian ideas to remodel a broken system gain traction. This is a rejection of the attention economy and a call to reconnect through community and organisation. Those simple acts that were once commonplace have become increasingly radical as new fractures emerge.

“Through repetition the message has gained weight and become something more urgent,” The Sick Man Of Europe explains. “The vehicle for this message needed to evolve, grow to gain the strength to carry it. We’ve landed on something more expansive, immediate and immersive. Less is more. Until it isn't.”

“Man has such a predilection for systems and abstract deductions that he is ready to distort the truth intentionally, he is ready to deny the evidence of his senses only to justify his logic”
Fyodor Dostoevsky - Notes from Underground (1864)

The Intermittent Signal is the sound of resistance.

In the year since The Sick Man Of Europe’s debut album was released, the world has moved on. Steady hands have slipped from the levers of power, logic has shifted underground and the message grows more urgent with every passing day.

Repetition has been relearned and the machine rhythms repurposed, this time with increased intensity. Arrangements have moved beyond the bare bones economy of the first record and there’s a newfound melodicism in places. Clarity and conviction ring true through the static and noise, while utopian ideas to remodel a broken system gain traction. This is a rejection of the attention economy and a call to reconnect through community and organisation. Those simple acts that were once commonplace have become increasingly radical as new fractures emerge.

“Through repetition the message has gained weight and become something more urgent,” The Sick Man Of Europe explains. “The vehicle for this message needed to evolve, grow to gain the strength to carry it. We’ve landed on something more expansive, immediate and immersive. Less is more. Until it isn't.”

Courant Zéro is the new moniker of Montréal multi-media installation artist and Kohlenstoff label co-founder Maxime Corbeil-Perron, signalling his return to purely recording-based electronic music production following several years focused on award-winning experimental film and audio-visual works. Solari channels his cinematic sensibility and decade-long exploration of sound art and electroacoustic counterpoint into deep cuts of maximalist ambient electronica. Drawing on his early background as a pianist and jazz drummer, Corbeil-Perron weaves a fabric of melodic and rhythmic vectors with his unique timbral palette, intersecting modern composition, IDM, ambient, glitch, and noise on a debut album brimming with sonic detail and emotive resonance. A fixture of Montréal's sound art community as both creator and curator since the early 2010s, Corbeil-Perron's work has ranged from "hypnotic A/V onslaught" (FACT Magazine) to the "richly nuanced acousmatic journey" of his 2018 EP Polychrome (Bandcamp Best Contemporary Classical Of The Month), with earlier electronic and techno-adjacent projects like Political Ritual, Dresden, and Le poisson d'argent garnering accolades from avant-music outlets A Closer Listen, Silence and Sound, and Musicworks, among others. Courant Zéro mobilizes this cumulative wealth of explorative sonic experience in the service of distinctive compositional architectures and electronic music pathways that fans of Floating Points, Jan Jelinek, Squarepusher, Tim Hecker, and Oneohtrix Point Never should find compelling. Title track "Solari" opens the album with a cavernous ambient glitch-drone soundscape that envelops ever-shifting timbres of modular arpeggiation, serving as introduction to the clarion call of "En deçà du réel", an homage to video artist Manon Labrecque, where layers of interweaving melodic counterpoint played on Buchla and other synths slowly build to widescreen immersive intensities; "I have this vision of Labreque vibrating eternally between two frames of magnetic VHS tape_ the slow pace of the piece also inspired by Tarkovsky's approach to scenography" says Corbeil-Perron. "Strange Aorta" is ectoplasmic ambient with wistful melody lines transmuting along a central filament, awash in shifting waves of low-end and ricocheting tonal glitch, the title a reference to "the thumping rhythm beating around the main melody_and the heavy remnants of grief related to my father's passing and a brutal confrontation with my own mortality a few years back." Tracks like "La peau des dents" and "Eroding Us" are more firmly rooted in electroacoustic and aleatory systems music, where colliding loops are shaped into unstable flows of deconstructed slippage and reconvergence. Those two pieces bookend the album's pivotal center: the gorgeous piano digitalia of "Horizon n'arrête" and the skittering electronica of 9-minute opus "Unyeldd", its loping broken beat and cascading melodic glitter like a cluster of wind-up music boxes in a dappled forest _ and for Corbeil- Perron also partly inspired by now fellow Constellation labelmates Do Make Say Think: "I spent a lot of time rediscovering their records after seeing them last September 2024 which definitely influenced this piece." Courant Zéro's debut is a vibrant sonic rebus at the junction of electronic, electroacoustic, noise and ambient music that resists easy categorisation. Solari strikes a compelling balance of unsettled disorientation and hospitable warmth, teeming with real feeling throughout. The album's cover art painting Cryptography I by Yen-Chao Lin represents this prevailing sensibility, its mazelike circuitry distinctly carved and crisply rendered, while filigreed with handmade detail and artisanal patina. Thanks for listening.

L’Eclisse is the third studio album by Garden City Movement. Drawing from psychedelia, alternative R&B, leftfield electronic music and lo-fi indie songcraft, the album weaves together guitars, synthesizers, layered vocal arrangements and groove driven rhythms into a richly detailed collection of songs. Bringing together different facets of the band's sound into a cohesive body of work, the album reflects a decade of musical exploration while further developing Garden City Movement's distinctive musical language.

Garden City Movement are the duo of Roy Avital and Johnny Sharoni. Over the past decade, they have built an international audience through a distinctive blend of dream pop, electronic music and immersive production. Their releases have received support from Pitchfork, The FADER, Clash, Stereogum and KCRW, while their music has appeared in FIFA 22 and major television productions. Alongside extensive international touring, the band has performed at festivals including Glastonbury, Primavera Sound, Pukkelpop and Lollapalooza India, and shared stages with artists such as Alt J, RÜFÜS DU SOL, SOHN and Cults.

The method is instability.

— Violeta Garcia & Hora Lunga

Violeta García & Hora Lunga return with 4ever, their second album and the follow-up to I’ll Wait For You In The Car Park. Released in 2025 on -ous, their debut received airplay on BBC and NTS and was selected for Bandcamp’s Best Experimental Music year-end list. 4ever picks up where that record left off: in ordinary moments, small scenes and the strange emotional weight of being somewhere between places. But here, these moments are stretched across a much larger, darker screen. A night flight, a terminal, a bad connection. When too many feelings are carried from one place to another, everyday situations begin to feel epic, empty, or apocalyptic.

Built from García’s cello and Hora Lunga’s synths, samples and field recordings, the album pushes further into emotion, letting fragile melodies, orchestral cello gestures, heavy low-end and compressed noise melt into something both dystopian and strangely familiar. Its warmth is not meant to be an escape from this world, but something that appears within it. Acoustically, the album lives through the closeness of the materials, the way sounds stay with each other, and in the feeling that even the most unstable moments are being carried together. The album presents itself in scenes that fade into each other: quiet melodic fragments that are interrupted and restarted, unpredictable changes of direction, held together by an inevitable melody, a bright synth harmony unfolding into an almost orchestral cello arrangement. Later, a broken organ-like sample turning in circles, cello melodies appearing as if they were trying to remember a song that never belonged to one voice alone. An endless loop that is placed under changing lights, briefly opening into emotional chords, then slipping back into emptiness.

It is this instability that Violeta García and Hora Lunga place at the center of their collaboration. They do not decorate the cello with production, or place electronics around an acoustic centre. They explain: “On 4ever, we become part of the same unstable surface. What holds the record together is not resolution, but the trust in staying together as things distort, overload, disappear and return.”

Violeta García, an Argentinian cellist known for her solo work and for her role in the punk band Blanco Teta, brings the instrument close to the body, as melody, pressure, texture, noise and sudden emotional weight. García has brought her distinct musical voice to KEXP, Rewire, Le Guess Who?, Bad Bonn Kilbi, Silent Green, TransMusicales, Roskilde and more.

Hora Lunga, a Zurich-based producer and composer working across unstable song forms, treats electronics less as a frame than as a weather system: something that can hold a scene together, distort it or make it disappear. In recent years, his compositions have ranged from experimental song forms, sound performances, ensemble compositions and film music. His ensemble WIRREN consists of up to fifteen performers.

Unncecessary is the first EP released on his own label by Nocturnerror, extremely appreciated by the Bass scene led by Zuli, who many times has played his tracks in Web Radios such as NTS, Rinse FM, etc..

“Unnecessary" is the title of the second release on A Flooded Need. Previously tangled in the most slippery meanders of electronic music with strong punk and wave reminiscences, 1/2 of Hyperlacrimae alongside 11xxx27, Nocturnerror approaches this work in a totally different way. The six tracks of the EP, in fact, represent a melting pot of hybrid influences between audacious bass music, cinematic and cacophonic IDM, totally deconstructed techno - stripped of its dance component - and dirty rave jungle.”
Insert — Web zine

There was an immediate buzz surrounding This Is What I Know About Being Gigantic, the 2001 debut EP by Seattle indie phenomenon Minus the Bear. It wasn’t the kind of viral interest that translated into a string of sold-out tour dates, but it meant that the tuned-in crowd eagerly anticipated their next move. To help stir up the excitement for their first proper full-length, the band followed up Gigantic with a promo CD featuring two tracks from their upcoming album, a short instrumental interlude, an exclusive new song, and a demo version of another album track. Packaged in a cardboard slipcase, it was the kind of cheaply manufactured promotional item that could be handed out for free at shows or thrown in as a bonus in online orders—a relic of the final years of the CD age before the advent of the iPod and mp3. The sampler CD was christened Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them in a nod to the upcoming album Highly Refined Pirates.

While these kinds of promotional items typically had an ephemeral existence, filed away in some neglected binder of CDs or tossed out during one of the many apartment-to-apartment moves of the band’s principal demographic of urban twentysomethings, Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them had a curiously persistent presence. Perhaps it was because it was packaged more like a proper EP than a sampler. It certainly helped that it was a free release, meaning anyone who came to a show likely walked away from the evening with the cardboard slipcase tucked in their jacket pocket. It’s also noteworthy that the EP showcased three songs from the back half of Highly Refined Pirates rather than the album’s live staples and fan favorites from side A. Whatever the combination of factors at play, “YAR!” took on a life of its own and was ultimately re-packaged in a jewel case and sold as a proper EP in 2004 in the wake of Highly Refined Pirates’ success. And now in 2026, it’s getting its first proper release on vinyl.

Opening with the driving beat, chirping guitars, and funky low-end of “Spritz!!! Spritz!!!,” Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them quickly cements Minus the Bear’s foundation of sophisticated revelry, a spirit further emphasized in the Highly Refined Pirates title choice. Part of the Bear’s lore involves them playing their first show three days after 9/11, and just as New York City’s indie rock scene took a sharp turn towards nightclub debauchery and a rejection of ‘90s rock’s dour fatalism in the wake of the World Trade Center tragedy, so did the Bear turn away from the Seattle’s scene’s penchant for gloom and angst towards a cerebral after-hours pop sound. The inclusion of “Women We Haven’t Met Yet” helped elevate what could have otherwise been seen as an album deep cut into a lead track. The fact that these first two songs essentially served as preview singles over future Pirates hits like “Monkey!!!Knife!!!Fight!!!” and “Absinthe Party At The Fly Honey Warehouse” speaks to the high quality of every song the band cranked out in their early years. The EP’s exclusive track “Drop It Like It’s Hot” presaged Snoop Dogg’s mega-hit single of the same name by two years, but whereas Snoop leaned into restrained minimalism, the Bear unleashes some of their fiercest work here, building off of interwoven riffs and electronic layers to a climax of stabbing guitars and hollered vocals. Much like Nirvana’s Hormoaning EP, Minus the Bear’s Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them was initially more of a marketing gimmick than a proper release, but given the popularity of the pivotal studio albums that stemmed from the same recording sessions, these extended plays serve as compelling companion pieces that have earned a special spot in their respective fanbases’ hearts. Suicide Squeeze is proud to offer Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them on vinyl on September 18, 2026, nearly 25 years after the band’s first show.

Remastered for vinyl by Bernie Grundman with lacquers cut at 45rpm, this limited edition pressing of 1000 copies on Puget Sound-colored vinyl helps document and preserve the exciting early years of one of American indie rock’s most beloved acts.

It's been a while hasn't it?! Well say 'Hello' to this new slab of wax from THEE CYBERMEN, because they NEVER SAID GOODBYE Some thirty years have passed since the last album from Dan Price (guitar & vocals) and Pete Scoundrel (bass, keys & vocals) but they didn't slip away quietly, in fact they kept on gigging and writing songs until the time was right and ladies and gents, that time is NOW! With the sterling help of rhythm dynamo Bruce Brand (MILKSHAKES, HEADCOATS etc. etc.) on drums and Surf maestro Hipbone Slim (AKA Sir Bald Diddly etc. etc.) on guitar the purveyors of pure, unalloyed BorderBeat have returned once more! This time with twelve all original tunes drenched in garage, beat, surf and attitude, recorded at Gizzard vintage analogue studio in London for that authentic sound.The long-awaited new platter from THEE CYBERMEN lands on your turntable like a fistful of fireworks displaying the band's 60s beat and Medway garage influences proudly in its grooves.

Almost Starlight is the extraordinary new album by Jem Finer (hurdy-gurdy) and John Matthias (violin). Produced by Jay Auborn and recorded in a Medieval Church, deep in the Devon countryside, in the Summer of 2025, the music is suffused with light, heat and the natural acoustics of the space.

The album defies categorisation; forced to pigeon hole it the nearest approximation would be ‘modern-classical’ but this ignores its myriad influences and explorations which encompass inspiration from Arvo Pärt through Terry Riley to Can via Delius, Alice Coltrane and a subtle reimagining of electronic music played purely with acoustic instruments, bending and shaping their possibilities in surprising and unexpected directions.

Jay Auborn plays cello on a number of the compositions and his production opens up and expands the music through a skilled and imaginative use of space, paying homage to the atmosphere of the church; ‘the sound evolved… chasing the imagined acoustics of that church in my mind; a place for worshipping light with sound.’

Almost Starlight will be released on the 4th September by Touch, available as CD, vinyl, cassette and on streaming platforms.

BIOS OF THE ARTISTS

Jem Finer

Since studying computer science in the 1970s, Jem Finer has worked in various fields, including photography, film, experimental and popular music, sound recording, sculpture and installation.

Much of his work relates to systems, extended processes and extremes of scale and includes Longplayer, a musical composition repeating once every 1000 years, and the Gurdy and Hurdy stones, ancient rocks set upright in fields in East Sussex and Gloucestershire with Jimmy Cauty. Their work together includes a band, The Standing Stones, whose most recent release is Twa Sisters, featuring Iona Zajac and Daragh Lynch.

He was a founder member of The Pogues, with whom he has played, written and recorded since 1981.

Recent music revolves around a fascination with the hurdy-gurdy and includes hrdy-grdy, a cassette released by Benedict Drew’s Thanet Tape Centre. His latest collaboration, with John Matthias, Almost Starlight, will be released by Touch in September 2026.

John Matthias

Since studying Theoretical Physics in the late 1980s and 1990s, John has created music and sound in many forms, including for installation, popular music, music for film, for dance and orchestra.

Much of John’s work plays with the physics of complex systems but he is also greatly influenced by stories and song. John has collaborated with Matthew Herbert, Stanley Donwood, Jay Auborn, Radiohead, Thom Yorke, Nick Ryan and many others to create music with a variety of textures and sonorities. He is particularly interested in simplicity and form and how context informs the way music sounds.

His latest collaboration, with Jem Finer, Almost Starlight, will be released by Touch in September 2026.

A Project dealing with the relative length of time at a record label and the effect of adding another zero. To explore this passage of time and all those memories, we’ve commissioned remixes of key tracks from the LEX catalog by artists we love and admire. The album features contributions from Danger Mouse & Jemini, Fly Anakin & Pink Siifu, Eyedress, Golden Rules featuring Yasiin Bey and Freddie Gibbs, Neon Neon feat. Cate Le Bon, alongside Kaleida, Belief, Nevermen, Prince Po and MF DOOM. With remixes that reinterpret the tracks by Boards of Canada, Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine, DJ Premier, Prefuse 73, Madlib, Stereolab, Warpaint, King Krule, Chad Hugo and Thom Yorke. The limited edition physical release is presented in a rigid slipcase, with the vinyl housed in a triple sleeve gatefold, and accompanied by a large format board book, with both featuring artwork by Commission Studios. The records are pressed on 180g heavyweight vinyl, with the D-Side finished with a bespoke etched design.

Broshuda returns on the newly born label Ballads Infinite with another array of absurdist vignettes, lowercase hi-tech ambience and textural degradations of radio transmissions from the bicameral mind. Weaving multiple sonic timelines into silky yet slippery articulations, he sculpts each sound with deliberate care making it breathe, slither and shimmer. Spells conjures a subterranean force through its vanishing presence, with the restraint in the sonic palette feeling utterly refreshing, as watering, drop by drop, a ghostly flower in the dromoscopic netscape of overreaching stimuli.

Deliriously patching fragments of unnoticed memories, gliding freely— slightly inebriated—through the ocean of sound: what does it take to capture the transitory entities inhabiting the latent space of this hyperconnected manifold? An assemblage of mechanical debris reduced to their bare-bone essentials; the Tao of discharge brings life to corrupted data, unpacked through textural ruminations.

Broshuda doesn’t just cast the spell, he patiently coils it around you, dissolving each and every thought in the hiss, manipulating subtle energies by making them move beyond and outward. What’s the sound of matter silently falling apart? The serpent sheds its subtle yet solid armor, revealing the space between each spire blooming with gentle eruptions of broken melodies. Where do we land now? What are we turning into? An ontological enigma still awaits to be solved.

Mastered by: Inner Lakes @ Tapewave Studio

Big Crown Records is proud to present the debut full length offering from Les Imprimés, Rêverie. The stirring and ethereal sounds of Les Imprimés have been making fans of anyone who hears them since their first 7" single hit the speakers. Morten Martens is the man behind the band. Born, raised, and working in Kristiansand, Norway, he keeps a low prole while making his heart felt, highly infectious, and unique music. This album is a long time coming for Martens and it is sure to make him a name to be reckoned with. The first thing you notice listening to Les Imprimés is the high level of musician-ship. Martens plays nearly every instrument on the recordings and handles the production and arranging. He has been making records for decades, winning a Spellemann Award (aka, the Norwegian Grammy) in 2006 for producing a HipHop album as well as getting nominations across three other genres. While awards and accolades speak to the level of his talent, this new album really shows who he is an artist on his own terms. Moving away from being a hired gun on the touring scene naturally led him to start doing more studio work. Slowly collecting gear and getting more experi-ence behind the boards he built his own studio on the island of Odderoya and was making a living playing with and recording other people's music. As the story goes, after those sessions would end he would work on his own project into the wee hours of the night. From these late night sessions, Les Imprimés was born and Rêverie began to take shape. However, "it wasn't until COVID, when things locked down, that I was really able to nd the time to focus on Les Imprimés" Morten says about creating and leading his own solo project. "It was a scary time. But I knew I had to do something with it." He took the sum of his inuences, combined them with his own vibe and got busy writing the music, playing the instruments, and singing the songs. "It's soul music, but I don't exactly have the soul voice," Morten explains humbly. "But I do it my own way, in a way that's mine. "It is his sound, his fingerprint, his sensibility, that makes his music hard to put in a box. The album showcases both Martens' range and his ability to make a cohesive album. The lead single "Falling Away" starts with a raw drum break and turns into a lushly arranged tune that paints the picture of love when it slips away. On "Still Here" he professes his resilience through life's twists and turns over a thundering track that puts a new spin on the B side ballad genre. Songs like "You" and "Our Love" mix tones from 60s and 70s Soul with arrangement nods to Doo Wop records while Martens' lyrics and delivery leave you singing the melodies long after they finish. "Love & Flowers" finds Martens in a moment of clarity with a song that ts the niche sub genre of happy break up tunes, the four on the floor track will move the dancefloor or while the message will resonate with anyone who put too much effort into the wrong situation in their lives. However, it is songs like "Muse" and "Chess" that really encapsulate the uniqueness of Les Imprimés as they push the boundaries of genre, one a profession of love for music and the other a cover of an electronic record respectively. Martens' lyrics, emotion, and delivery truly make the whole thing come together and stand out from any of his peers. There's an infectiousness and a pop sensibility in the writing that is done with the utmost class and taste giving Les Imprimés the rare quality of immediate attraction that only deepens the more you listen.

Bruno Silva returns under his Ondness moniker for his most personal album yet.

Recorded as an homage, a reference map, and a temporal slippage back to a transformative period of Bruno Silva's life, I Can Only Put So Much Into a Song conjures the threshold between his shoegaze-leaning teen years and a young adulthood defined by profound sonic landmarks: Iran’s The Moon Boys (whose cover serves as a key influence), The Microphones’ It Was Hot, We Stayed In The Water, Fennesz’s Endless Summer, and the communal, tape- hiss maelstrom of the New Weird America underground—all underscored by a persistent Black Metal tension.

Taking its title from a lyric in Farrah Abraham’s masterpiece My Teenage Dream Ended, this new humble offering from Ondness drifts into the memory of song as half-remembered recollections, as if beamed from a recurring "now" of unfulfilled possibilities.

Studio Barnhus presents Fold, the first full-length release on the label from Stockholm-born, Berlin-based DJ and producer MOLØ: a patiently unfolding album of club-adjacent lullabies, soft-focus breakbeats and open-window electronics. Following 2024’s Aqua Lull and 2025’s Don’t Change EP with Slackin Beats, MOLØ returns to Barnhusgatan with her most fully realised work yet – an album built like a night slowly finding its shape, starting somewhere quiet and letting the music grow and shift. The result is Fold: eight tracks moving freely between rooms and tempos, held together by MOLØ’s sense of atmosphere, melody and pace. There are pads with endless skies in them, field recordings whispering from the corners, melodies suddenly appearing, having been waiting patiently for the right light.
As often with Studio Barnhus, friends old and new are invited in. Swedish jazz pianist Albin Söderbäck leaves his mark on Cloud and Sväva, bringing a warm, searching musicality that nods gently towards MOLØ’s favourite jazz-fusion records. On Le, Diane Emerita’s fragile voice slips in between the breaks, making the track feel at once human and unreal. Off The Meds frontman Kamohelo keeps it cool as ever on the dynamic stepper Bump.
Then there is Malmö, featuring Norwegian songwriter and vocalist Ane Brun. MOLØ sent Brun the instrumental because she could already hear her voice inside the music – what came back felt so natural, it was as if the whole track had been written around it from the start.
Elsewhere, DJ favourite Fluff captures a different kind of magic: made in MOLØ’s Berlin apartment one spring evening, barely changed since its first draft, then road-tested immediately on a late-night walk through the city with the demo on repeat, strangers moving through the frame.
Fold is a record about trusting the long way round. In a time of shrinking attention spans and growing impatience, MOLØ chooses the scenic route, with curiosity, generosity and enough confidence to let the listener get a little lost

In the years after independence, Tunisia made an unlikely bet: tourism. Beach resorts rose along the coast, each one trying to outshine the next, and each one needing a band to entertain their guests. A whole generation of musicians grew up on those hotel stages - sharing bills with James Brown, Claude François and the Mingus Dynasty - and what came out of it was a small revolution. Funk played on Tunisian instruments. Disco with an oud in it. Reggae carried back from the island of Kerkennah. A "Third Language" the press didn't quite know what to do with.

Tunis Hotel Stereo gathers nine of those records. Most of them were pressed in tiny quantities, sold to tourists as souvenirs, censored before reaching the radio, or quietly slipped onto a 45 between two hotel sets. Some of these artists filled the Carthage amphitheatre. Some topped the Maghreb hit-parades. Most have been waiting, for forty years, for someone to play their music again.

This compilation is the result of years of work - collating memories, hunting down records, sitting with the artists who made them, and with the people who once danced to them. It is the third release on Shakshouka Records, and the first compilation of Tunisian music ever curated by Tunisians, in Tunisia.

SIDE A

The mysterious Les 4 Dés, who turned the national anthem into psychedelic pop on Ya Tounes - and then nearly vanished. Peace Band, hard rockers turned hotel professionals, recording as Omnya at Hammamet's legendary Topkapi club. Ridha Zalila, the eternal shape-shifter, in a rare instrumental of Tiou Tiou Tiou. And Sadok Gharbi's Noujoum - pulled from his sabotaged, near-lost masterpiece Souar.

SIDE B

Carthago, the impossible big band that married the elite of Tunisian jazz-rock with the stars of tourist entertainment, with the original Dhikrayet. Khaled Mellef, one of the great UFOs of his generation, with Wait Till the Morning Dew, recorded in the Netherlands. Marhaba Band's Baba Bahri, originally pressed only for hotel guests and now a cult artefact. Corniche Band's Dance, cut in Milan during a technical stop on a cruise ship. And Jomaa Bouzrara, the "Bob Marley of the Maghreb," with Now That, drawn from his landmark 1983 debut Sunset.

These weren't rebels without a cause. They were musicians who understood that modernity and heritage are not opposites - that a Tunisian could play funk and still be deeply, irreducibly Tunisian. They drew from every direction at once, and built something that belonged to none of those worlds entirely, and to all of them at the same time.

This compilation is one small act of remembering. The music does the rest.

Boisterous stuff out of Uruguay, courtesy of Kalahari debutant Michelle.

An early Nicolas Lutz protégé and live set demolition expert offering hard-edged techno and electro drama, with occasional pitstops into tech house turf. Lean, mean and utterly relentless with it. Pervaded by cranky, unruly dancefloor spectres and haywire cybernetics – all deftly constructed but administered with brute force and controlled ferocity.

Bearing heart and soul at the controls of her 303, it isn’t all full-frontal assault. A fierce feminine energy pervades every nook and cranny, brooding and angsty, totally rooted in that Montevideo warehouse sound. Straddles the beautiful and terrifying with ease.

Machine-powered and ruthless, the Slipknot-sampling closer is a fitting end.

Not all tropical escapes are meant to soothe. Some are meant to seduce… and unsettle.

On Haunted Bossa Nova, Creepxotica reimagines the language of classic exotica through a darker, more cinematic lens—where swaying rhythms and lush melodies drift through shadows instead of sunlight. This isn’t background music for a carefree afternoon. It’s a late-night transmission from a hidden lounge at the edge of a dream.

Built on the bones of traditional bossa nova and mid-century exotica, the album pulses with nylon-string guitars, vibraphone shimmer, and hypnotic percussion—but everything feels just slightly off-center, like a memory slipping out of reach. There’s a tension beneath the beauty, a sense that something unseen is moving just beyond the music. Each track unfolds like a scene, contributing to a larger atmosphere that’s immersive, cohesive, and quietly haunting.

What sets Haunted Bossa Nova apart is its intention. This is not nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake—it’s a deliberate evolution. Creepxotica honors the lineage of the genre while pushing it into more mysterious territory, blending tropical warmth with ambient unease and cinematic depth. The result feels less like a throwback and more like a lost soundtrack—discovered, not created.

Sonically rich and meticulously arranged, the album invites deep listening. Every tone, every pause, every echo has purpose. It’s exotica for those who crave mood over kitsch, atmosphere over imitation.

For listeners drawn to the edges of jazz, lounge, and ambient soundscapes, Haunted Bossa Nova offers something rare: a fully realized world that lingers long after the final note fades.

Mr Bongo presents a reissue of the 1619 Bad Ass Band’s self-titled album, originally released in 1976 on the ultra-rare tax-scam imprint TSG Records. Formed by Khalid Abdul Shalid, the record was the only album released by the group, and has since become a mythical, highly sought-after prize for collectors and DJs, ranking among the most coveted albums on the 1970s rare soul scene.

This New Jersey soul-funk gem captures the raw energy of mid-‘70s underground funk and soul. Its journey began in relative obscurity having been released on TSG, one of several US “tax-scam” labels operating at the time. These labels exploited loopholes in the tax system by inflating production costs to create write-offs against their tax bills, meaning commercial success was never the objective. Records were often pressed in extremely limited quantities, with little to no promotion or distribution and in many cases, artists were unaware their music had even been released. While this led to the 1619 Bad Ass Band’s album slipping into obscurity upon release, it later cemented its status as a holy grail for diggers and DJs. Unfortunately, like many releases of its kind, it also meant the band never received the recognition they deserved at the time.

Musically, the album is a unique listen with a varied palette that will appeal to fans of a broad range of tastes. From the luscious, dreamy ballad ‘Rain’, which will melt even the stoniest of hearts, to the raw, drum-heavy funk of ‘Love To Love’, it showcases the group’s depth and versatility. Highlights include the string-laden, floaty stepper ‘Just From You’, and ‘Nothing Can Stop My Loving You’, with its spacey synth lines, which will be a joy for modern soul fans. Elsewhere, ‘Step Out’ opens with a heavy drum break (later sampled on Latyrx’s ‘Interlude’ from their 1997 debut) before unfolding into a brilliant male-female vocal exchange.

Every track on here is a winner and it’s criminal that the band never received the publicity or credit they deserved when it was first released. Alongside the TSG Records release in 1976, the album was later released again in 1978 with alternate cover art on another tax-scam label, Graham International. Both versions have since become highly collectable and over time, the album has steadily gained the recognition it always deserved. This reissue by Mr Bongo offers a wider audience the chance to experience a truly special record, one that stands as a testament to the overlooked brilliance of the era’s underground soul and funk scene.

The debut album from The Story So Far. These 11 songs do burst with the cathartic desperation of the former and the boundless urgency of the latter. Rough but catchy, raw but well-recorded, songs such as “High Regard” and the terse, broken-hearted indictment of “Mt. Diablo” threaten to burst with youthful, angst-ridden aggression. While these are powerful, punchy anthems, there are subtleties and nuances in the arrangements that elevate the likes of “Quicksand” and “Daughters” to be more than just another batch of angry songs sung by frustrated young men. Under Soil and Dirt 10 Year Anniversary Picture Disc - Limited to 5000 - Die Cut Gatefold Jacket - Screenprinted Slipmat

Delivering four precise, direct techno weapons with expertise and personality in abundance, Efdemin arrives on Dekmantel with Mirror Phase.

Phillip Sollmann has been an enduring source of inspiration and originality within the techno scene since he rose to prominence in the early 00s. As Efdemin he's found a sweet spot between warmly melodic expression and constantly curious textures, holding true to techno's original MO as a bittersweet soul music while delivering his own distinct take on the tradition. After last year's more introspective LP POLY he makes his Dekmantel debut with a sharp, incisive bundle of workouts that champion unfiltered techno of the highest calibre. In Sollmann's own words, it's a loving tribute to the original Detroit architects of the sound.

"All four tracks are based on studio jams using mainly analogue gear, and were done pretty quickly," he explains. "They all nod to the roots of my idea of techno, which is very much informed by the Detroit-Berlin legacy we all benefit greatly from in many ways. In a way, this EP is a deep bow to this."

The sense of tribute behind the music manifests explicitly on opening track 'Mirror Phase', which features a fully cleared sample of DJ Minx's sultry spoken word intro to Kevin Saunderson's 1997 entry into the seminal X-Mix series — a formative release for Sollmann on his journey into electronic music.

With adventurous synth lines and tweaked samples rubbing up against chiseled 909 drums and a generous serving of emotive machine soul, Mirror Phase EP is a perfectly-formed slice of techno done properly — classic, timeless, futuristic and eternal in equal measure.

'As I Slip Into the Sky reflects a particularly small sliver of time compared to Where the Smoke Goes, with recordings taking place in early 2025, while Johnny was bed-bound in an assisted living facility with multiple sclerosis. Alabama born, Portland based artist Joel Nelson helms the nearly entirely electronic backdrop, posing a new canvas for Johnny, with Buchla Music Easel bubbling up between Johnny’s lines. This album captures Johnny in a remarkably tender and emotive form. Love and all its permutations. The tangled, but caring nature of familial love, (“But you and me, we can talk on the phone every day. I would never leave you behind”), to the anguish and euphoria of romantic connection. Johnny has a remarkable ability to pose questions, ("What is real love like?), and provide answers that reflect the truest of realities, absent cliche ("I don't know. His curly hair, short on his head, his smile, his smile, his smile...that is what real love is like").
'Joel Nelson's nimble work across a small array of analog synthesizers creates a flowing backdrop to Johnny's stream of consciousness. At times, Broadcast's fuzzed out ballads come to mind, while at others, early Oneohtrix Point Never's gauzy, distant drones anchor beneath Johnny's slippery syntax.
'Johnny recorded his poems while confined to a hospital bed, through an iPhone laid gently on his chest. Assisted by the caring presence of friends John Albea and Lauren Jones, we can hear through these recordings Johnny immersed in his world of words, taking in the world of sounds Joel had provided for him. We hear his breath, at times we hear the harsh sibilance captured by the iPhone microphone, but more than anything, we hear the tenderness and poetic resolve of his caring soul. He was incredibly grateful for the past years of connecting with the small cohort of Birmingham-affiliated musicians and artists who upheld him as the unofficial poet laureate of "The Magic City", Birmingham, AL. Perhaps most appropriately, Johnny closes the album out in a state of gratitude:'

"My funeral was perfect
I was buried wearing a very charming jacket
A very charming jacket I just happened to have on when i died
He was always the lucky one, Mary-Ellen said
I've been looking for a nice casual jacket like that I could wear to casual little outdoor parties and to my funeral all my life
But Johnny just had one
Probably someone left it in his car
He was so lucky
It doesn't even make sense
But its true
He really was that lucky"

Hausu Mountain co-founder Maxwell Allison returns to the label under his moniker Mukqs with an hour-long progressive ambient statement entitled Juckport. Performed live on a solitary sampler in a single take, the album shifts from warp-speed blasts of glitch to iridescent jazz fusion piano sketches to expanses of ecstatic synthesis. Allison's improvised approach to live sound collage blends innumerable layers of texture and oblique harmony into a continually thrilling electro-acoustic mosaic. Each track begins as a bank of samples sourced from Allison’s collection of synthesizers, drum machines, and field recordings, arrows pointing in a direction but without established counterpoint. Spontaneity, and the sometimes chaotic juxtapositions it engenders, undercut any traces of machine logic in the music as it expands and contracts organically. It is the product of hands moving in real space, in real time, for an extended period. Juckport is animated by a duality of glitched-out abstraction and intangible bliss. Synthesizer pads stretch beyond the imagination’s horizon line, counterbalanced by a churn of clipped samples that scatter across the stereo field like rapidfire psychedelic flashbacks. Cohesion emerges through textural continuity and development rather than repetition or pattern-making. Blink and innumerable details might slip by unnoticed, and the landscape might have shifted entirely. Still, as more viscous sounds enfold the listener, they communicate a calm, settled mindset, reflecting the motion of a creative mental state; large amounts of information are synthesized into a focused stream that reacts intuitively with the introduction of each new complicating element.

Filled with 45 minutes of previously unreleased music, Hey Arnold! The Music, Volume 1 has been remastered from the original audio files by Emmy Award-winning sound engineer Dave Marino in conjunction with show composer Jim Lang. Housed in a gatefold jacket with original exclusive artwork by show creator Craig Bartlett, as well as a locket shaped center label for the A Side and a fisheye view of Gerald and Arnold for the B Side, this is a release you don't want to miss out on!

Newly signed to indie heavyweights Heist or Hit (Westside Cowboy, Her’s) EP two: ‘Marionette’ has been produced by Daniel Fox (Sprints, Melts, Psychotic Monks, Naked Lungs, Nerves, Ronan Group) and it’s set to be seminal. A set text for future musicians with aspirations of innovation. “The theme of the marionette is present throughout each song, involving some aspect of a power struggle and a lack of control within oneself.” Opener ‘Chocolate’ bounces in on a synth line as slippery and hyperactive as anything Aphex Twin ever cooked up. Crispy offbeat electronic cymbals play counterpoint to atonal guitars and pugilistic drumming before the track dry-wretches its way into a nauseating cacophony of euphoria. It’s a tale of crippling social anxiety and a preference for an unflattering, lonely reality. The muted guitar pluck in the intro to ‘Crows’ is the sonic equivalent of biting one’s nails. An anxious, involuntary tic that speaks to the theme of guilt, especially surrounding digital culture: “children can watch what they please, just with viewer discretion.” The track lurches between textures, weaving themselves in and out of focus. Guitars blare like sirens, interrupting paranoid urban centres at 2am, while the bass sounds like the inside of an insomniac’s head on day four of a REM drought.

The metallic intent of ‘Discipline’ squats on the chest as though Steve Albini is your sleep paralysis demon. The pain of accountability spews from the industrial regularity of the beat, apt to the narrative of a soldier coming to terms with the lies that made him commit atrocious, violent acts. EP closer ‘Servant’ starts like a Spectrum loading screen. Dial-up modem-coded, it pauses for moments of white-noise-vomit and existential bloops. Fitting for a more abstract take on the idea of the power struggle filtered through religious imagery and self-awareness of one’s own actions, coupled with an inability to exert control over them. The band pile on the textures with sadistic glee until the evil is exorcized and the modem melts. Connection severed. Across the EP, vocalist Joseph has a tendency to hyper-fixate on themes of control and unhappiness. Creating rooms in which doom and isolation ricochet. Not that it’s all bad news “we like to think that by shedding light on the negative, it commands a sense of hope.” Influenced as much by the liminal-space horror and uncanny dread of Silent Hill as the existentialist theatre of The Twilight Zone or the absurdity of Twin Peaks, they occupy a space between unease and impulse. Makeshift Art Bar are not a band interested in being liked. They’re a band interested in being necessary. There’s so much eating and drinking in their work that multiple listens simply don’t satisfy; something new reveals itself on each return visit. Audacious. Idiosyncratic. Vital. A young band carrying identity, defiance and an uncompromising vision as if it isn’t a rare cargo.

Newly signed to indie heavyweights Heist or Hit (Westside Cowboy, Her’s) EP two: ‘Marionette’ has been produced by Daniel Fox (Sprints, Melts, Psychotic Monks, Naked Lungs, Nerves, Ronan Group) and it’s set to be seminal. A set text for future musicians with aspirations of innovation. “The theme of the marionette is present throughout each song, involving some aspect of a power struggle and a lack of control within oneself.” Opener ‘Chocolate’ bounces in on a synth line as slippery and hyperactive as anything Aphex Twin ever cooked up. Crispy offbeat electronic cymbals play counterpoint to atonal guitars and pugilistic drumming before the track dry-wretches its way into a nauseating cacophony of euphoria. It’s a tale of crippling social anxiety and a preference for an unflattering, lonely reality. The muted guitar pluck in the intro to ‘Crows’ is the sonic equivalent of biting one’s nails. An anxious, involuntary tic that speaks to the theme of guilt, especially surrounding digital culture: “children can watch what they please, just with viewer discretion.” The track lurches between textures, weaving themselves in and out of focus. Guitars blare like sirens, interrupting paranoid urban centres at 2am, while the bass sounds like the inside of an insomniac’s head on day four of a REM drought.

The metallic intent of ‘Discipline’ squats on the chest as though Steve Albini is your sleep paralysis demon. The pain of accountability spews from the industrial regularity of the beat, apt to the narrative of a soldier coming to terms with the lies that made him commit atrocious, violent acts. EP closer ‘Servant’ starts like a Spectrum loading screen. Dial-up modem-coded, it pauses for moments of white-noise-vomit and existential bloops. Fitting for a more abstract take on the idea of the power struggle filtered through religious imagery and self-awareness of one’s own actions, coupled with an inability to exert control over them. The band pile on the textures with sadistic glee until the evil is exorcized and the modem melts. Connection severed. Across the EP, vocalist Joseph has a tendency to hyper-fixate on themes of control and unhappiness. Creating rooms in which doom and isolation ricochet. Not that it’s all bad news “we like to think that by shedding light on the negative, it commands a sense of hope.” Influenced as much by the liminal-space horror and uncanny dread of Silent Hill as the existentialist theatre of The Twilight Zone or the absurdity of Twin Peaks, they occupy a space between unease and impulse. Makeshift Art Bar are not a band interested in being liked. They’re a band interested in being necessary. There’s so much eating and drinking in their work that multiple listens simply don’t satisfy; something new reveals itself on each return visit. Audacious. Idiosyncratic. Vital. A young band carrying identity, defiance and an uncompromising vision as if it isn’t a rare cargo.

Somewhere between krautrock, noise rock, decaying psychedelia, and pagan proto-punk, Dééfait makes music like one performs a ritual: in trance, on repeat, and without a safety net. From the chaotic arteries of Mexico City to the basement venues of the Paris suburbs, Dééfait sculpts noise rock in apnea. Their self-titled debut EP is a noise rite: a wall of guitars, incantatory percussion, and possessed voices. With Dééfait, sound twists, repeats, stretches, until exhaustion and ecstasy. Formed in 2023, Dééfait brings together the Valero brothers (Lucas on guitar / Pablo, ex-Pays P, on drums), Enir Da (bass - Temir Alcy, Dali Muru & the Polyphonic Swarm), Grégoire Couvert (guitar), and Riki Lara, a Mexican-born vocalist and performer whose lyrics _ chanted, whispered, shouted _ alternate in three languages: English, Spanish, and French. Active on the Paris underground scene since 2024 (La Mécanique Ondulatoire, Le Cirque Électrique, Nouveaux Sauvages_), Dééfait imposes a ritual tension, physical, almost hallucinatory. No choruses to hum along to, no comforting melodies _ just a dense sonic flow that seeps and vibrates. This debut EP, set for release in December 2025 on Ici, d'ailleurs (Zëro, Matt Elliott, Bruit Noir_), lines up six long tracks resembling pagan litanies. Six extended pieces forming a possessed monologue, as if a camera had been slipped inside a burning body. Everything pants. Everything overflows. From We Love Each Other So Much That We Won't Belong To Any Species Anymore, love exceeds expected forms and becomes an organic pact, a ritual of species departure: "Cut me like you want, in bloom your fire," "We scratch consanguinity / We don't belong to any species anymore." It quickly suggests a call to ecstasy, to trance. The EP as a whole navigates unstable zones where desire, sacrifice, and alienation entwine like serpents on acid. Molokh 8 chants an offering to a carnivorous deity, between severed tongue and chemical body. In Bondbondbond, voices entangle, seek each other in a delirious, sensual chiaroscuro where pleasure derails into compulsion. It's a dogma-free ceremony, a game of inverted masks. Alether _ a live-explosive track and perhaps the most powerful of this first project _ shatters frameworks: convulsive dancing, possessed rhythms drowned by waves of guitar. Finally, Ferreri, cook for us closes the EP as a dark farce: a deviant homage to Italian filmmaker Marco Ferreri, the track chews and regurgitates words as if digesting an overfed world. Recorded in the chaos of DIY and mixed as a raw work, the record captures Dééfait's electric discharge in its purest state. The sound is dirty, visceral, possessed. Think Terminal Cheesecake, Boredoms, Nick Cave-era Birthday Party on acid, but also CAN impaled on an autopsy table, or a Giallo under a strobe light_ Yet it emerges as a singular work.

Following the release of the digital single, Berlin-based groove collective The Ruffcats and Chicago soul singer Doug Shorts return with a strictly limited 7-inch vinyl edition of “I Ain’t Worried” , pairing the original retro-soul cut with an exclusive remix by none other than Erobique. The original version is a timeless slice of analog soul: laid-back yet confident, driven by a deep pocket rhythm section, warm horn arrangements, and Doug Shorts’ unmistakably smooth, Chicago-rooted vocal delivery. Written by The Ruffcats and Doug Shorts, the song carries a quiet message of resilience and inner calm, echoing the spirit of classic late-’60s and early-’70s soul without ever slipping into pastiche. On the flip side, Erobique brings his unmistakable touch to the track: playful, groove-heavy, and full of character. Known for his ability to bridge deep musicality with infectious dancefloor energy, the Hamburg-based producer reimagines “I Ain’t Worried” as a loose, funk-infused roller, retaining the song’s soulful heart while nudging it firmly toward late-night dancefloors and sweaty club rooms.

Originally created in the wider context of the charitable Soul Rabbi – Shine On project, “I Ain’t Worried” has since taken on a life of its own. This 7-inch release celebrates that journey, honoring the song’s roots in community and friendship while expanding its reach through a fresh, club-ready reinterpretation. Pressed on classic 7-inch vinyl, this release is aimed squarely at soul lovers, DJs, and collectors alike: a record that feels just as at home in a crate next to vintage originals as it does in a contemporary DJ set.

Das neue Album von Slippers-Mastermind Madeline BB ist ein Meisterwerk. Als hätte man die Beatles mit Sprühdose und Wachsstift bemalt. Das letzte Album von Slippers trug den Titel ,Do You Like Slippers?". Passender wäre ,Do You Like Pop Music?" gewesen. Denn wenn die Antwort auf eine der beiden Fragen ,Nein" lautet, was machen wir dann hier überhaupt?

There are two versions of this album:

1. numbered 100 copies of limited black 180g vinyl made in collaboration with U JAZZ ME Records

2. transparent orange 180g vinyl

LINER NOTES:

" When AJ Lee stepped back into the ring in September 2025 - after a ten-year break - she introduced herself to a new generation of fans with the words: 'If you haven't heard of me, I am your favorite wrestler’s favorite wrestler.' That is exactly what came to my mind as a lead for this blurb when Pokusa asked me to write it. Because that’s what they are: your favorite indie darlings' favorite indie darlings (even though no one uses that term anymore, let alone identifies as such). They are your favorite cool jazzcats’ favorite jazzcats. And they are probably your favorite young jazz act - if you don’t usually (or ever) listen to jazz.

This, I always thought, is their greatest strength. Half the battle (in my eyes) is recording a sick jazz album - one that a jazz magazine would fawn over. The real win is getting someone wearing a heavy metal T-shirt into it; someone who’s never listened to jazz and has never stepped foot in a place like Pardon, To Tu, but heard Pokusa and decided to change that. I am such a person. I didn't learn about jazz because of them, but they’re definitely the reason I started rating it.
Głowy (Heads) is, in a way, a classic album. If someone played it for me and - relying on my lack of knowledge and gullibility - tried to convince me that it was recorded in the Polish Radio Studios in 1975, at Akwarium Club in Warsaw in 1985, at Club Rura in 1989, somewhere in Tri-City in '94, or at Mózg in Bydgoszcz, I would probably believe it. Its 'classicness' goes hand in hand with its timelessness. I could write about how the album fits into the catalogs of Lado ABC, GOWI, or Biodro Records. I could dig for connections to Yass, Tzadik, or a number of other things.
But what Teo, Natan, and Tymek create here is as important in its experience as it is in its music. For me - an artist active in a similar time - each Pokusa album, including this newest release, is a record of a period of time and the experiences hidden between the notes. The Indian spices in food served before a show in Mózg. A headache from all the cigarettes smoked listening to tapes in Eufemia. Marveling at the graffiti over the sink in Młodsza Siostra. The narrow steps at Chłodna 25. The wider but slippery steps to Pogłos. The quirky and uncomfortable steps in Ziemia. The mosquitoes at Ladomek. The dilemma of whether to wear a nice polo instead of a T-shirt to SPATiF. The wonder of turning off Monciak into Dwie Zmiany. Why is a club like this on such a strip? Why is Pokusa playing here? And why do they sound so good?
On one hand, you can find journalists writing that Pokusa grew out of the classic free jazz of the 1960s; some might mention Albert Ayler. On the other hand, there’s Unsound Festival and young critics writing about 'post-jazz.' All of them are correct. This is universalism. This is that timelessness. Whether you pick up this album the day it comes out or in the year 2046, it will be good. In twenty years, people will still reach for it. Of that, I am certain."
Michał Turowski

There are two versions of this album:

1. numbered 100 copies of limited black 180g vinyl made in collaboration with U JAZZ ME Records

2. transparent orange 180g vinyl

LINER NOTES:

" When AJ Lee stepped back into the ring in September 2025 - after a ten-year break - she introduced herself to a new generation of fans with the words: 'If you haven't heard of me, I am your favorite wrestler’s favorite wrestler.' That is exactly what came to my mind as a lead for this blurb when Pokusa asked me to write it. Because that’s what they are: your favorite indie darlings' favorite indie darlings (even though no one uses that term anymore, let alone identifies as such). They are your favorite cool jazzcats’ favorite jazzcats. And they are probably your favorite young jazz act - if you don’t usually (or ever) listen to jazz.

This, I always thought, is their greatest strength. Half the battle (in my eyes) is recording a sick jazz album - one that a jazz magazine would fawn over. The real win is getting someone wearing a heavy metal T-shirt into it; someone who’s never listened to jazz and has never stepped foot in a place like Pardon, To Tu, but heard Pokusa and decided to change that. I am such a person. I didn't learn about jazz because of them, but they’re definitely the reason I started rating it.
Głowy (Heads) is, in a way, a classic album. If someone played it for me and - relying on my lack of knowledge and gullibility - tried to convince me that it was recorded in the Polish Radio Studios in 1975, at Akwarium Club in Warsaw in 1985, at Club Rura in 1989, somewhere in Tri-City in '94, or at Mózg in Bydgoszcz, I would probably believe it. Its 'classicness' goes hand in hand with its timelessness. I could write about how the album fits into the catalogs of Lado ABC, GOWI, or Biodro Records. I could dig for connections to Yass, Tzadik, or a number of other things.
But what Teo, Natan, and Tymek create here is as important in its experience as it is in its music. For me - an artist active in a similar time - each Pokusa album, including this newest release, is a record of a period of time and the experiences hidden between the notes. The Indian spices in food served before a show in Mózg. A headache from all the cigarettes smoked listening to tapes in Eufemia. Marveling at the graffiti over the sink in Młodsza Siostra. The narrow steps at Chłodna 25. The wider but slippery steps to Pogłos. The quirky and uncomfortable steps in Ziemia. The mosquitoes at Ladomek. The dilemma of whether to wear a nice polo instead of a T-shirt to SPATiF. The wonder of turning off Monciak into Dwie Zmiany. Why is a club like this on such a strip? Why is Pokusa playing here? And why do they sound so good?
On one hand, you can find journalists writing that Pokusa grew out of the classic free jazz of the 1960s; some might mention Albert Ayler. On the other hand, there’s Unsound Festival and young critics writing about 'post-jazz.' All of them are correct. This is universalism. This is that timelessness. Whether you pick up this album the day it comes out or in the year 2046, it will be good. In twenty years, people will still reach for it. Of that, I am certain."
Michał Turowski

Bolka is known as the man with the cap. His cap has lived through a lot: his glitchy and microtonal experiments, studies at Institute of Sonology in The Hague or through countless performative works. A few years ago, Bolka’s cap fell apart. By that time he was already a fixture on the slovak experimental scene, but only releasing his debut album, “smutné stropy.” He started wearing new caps from then: somehow reminiscent of the old one, but much more varied — same as “smutné stropy,” bubbling with motifs, charming humour and pop sensitivity layered over detailed soundscapes popping with surprises.

On schwarzkopf, Bolka returns wishing for a thick black hair. With his charming love songs, that are positioned somewhere between a tightly run freak folk orchestra, deconstructed ballads and colorful ecstatic melancholy, he creates an album that thrives on juxtapositions that are completely unique, yet strangely familiar. Bolka’s songwriting is at once tender and irreverent — lovestruck whispering suddenly tripping over absurdist jokes and surreal images that fizz like soda. His songs move in that strange space between vulnerability and mischief, where intimate confessions collide with radical playfulness and the poetic rubs shoulders with the delightfully ridiculous.

On schwarzkopf, Bolka expands his world with a wide circle of collaborators and an even richer sonic palette. The album is meticulously detailed yet carefree: delicate moments sit next to sudden explosions, drifting from gentle pop to bursts of noise. Toward the end, the album even slips into a footwork-infused remix by Kodiki, passes through Julek ploski’s signature neon-baroque string perspective, and briefly wanders into Lénok’s cinematic sonic world. Bolka sings that he wants to dissolve into a healing ointment, to be ground in a mortar with calendula — and he invites us into this musical spa with him: a place that stings a little but ultimately soothes, a gorgeous soundscape that is both painful and joyful at the same time.

Soul Jazz Records’ long out of print classic ‘Studio One Funk’ collection is being re-released in three new one-off limited-edition coloured pressing 18th anniversary format editions!
Firstly, a heavyweight special limited edition one-pressing only red 2xLP vinyl + download. Secondly, there is also a new special limited-edition one-off pressing edition red-pressed CD enclosed in jewel case and slipcase. And thirdly there is a very limited unique new one-off pressing red-cased cassette format (200 copies only)! 18 years on from its original release Studio One Funk remains one of our Studio One releases most in-demand titles and like all our earlier special coloured editions is sure to sell out fast!
Studio One Funk is made up of rare and unreleased Reggae Funk from the vaults of Studio One. Ever since the birth of Funk in America, the sound has been an ever-present ingredient in the melting pot of Studio One’s musical output.
The music on this release is a combination of originals, US covers and versions of existing Studio One cuts. Jackie Mittoo shows his appreciation for Booker T and The MGs, the studio group at Memphis’ famous Stax Records with ‘Hang Em High’, itself a cover of a film soundtrack by Dominic Frontiere. Incredibly this version has never before been released. Booker T’s super-funky ‘Melting Pot’ is also covered by the little-known Underground Vegetables.
Other versions include Isaac Hayes’ classic Blaxploitation soundtrack ‘Shaft’ again by Cedric Im Brooks track - another unreleased gem, straight from the tape master. Motown gets a look in with Alton’s stripped-down version of the Spinners classic ‘It’s A Shame’, written by Stevie Wonder and Syreeta.
James Brown is apparent in spirit with the JBs-inspired groove on the super rare cut “Now” by Lee Arab. Lloyd Williams similarly does a fine Kingston-style version of the hardest-working man in showbusiness on ‘Reggae Feet’.
Version-wise, we have ‘Idleberg’, Cedric Im Brooks tough instrumental cut on Horace Andy’s seminal ‘Skylarking’. The little-known Prince Moonie gives us a rare DJ cut of another Horace Andy classic, ‘See A Man’s Face’.
Pablove Black’s cut of Sidewalk Doctor (A/K/A Poco Tempo) is one of a handful of Studio One releases featuring Augustus Pablo’s trademark instrument, the melodica, played by Black himself.
Add to these original cuts from Studio One’s heavyweight session players including Leroy Sibbles, Jackie Mittoo, Leroy Sibbles, Eric Frater, Leroy ‘Horsemouth’ Wallace, Richard Ace, Vin Gordon and more and you have one of the finest selections of reggae and funk you will ever hear.







"This collection goes deep into the Brentford Road vaults and unearths a rake of previously unreleased gems alongside hard to find classics. Heavy and inspirational, totally unique and essentially timeless." Straight No Chaser
"An absolute treasure trove for the collector as well as being great for the ears and feet. Jackie Mittoo's 'Hang Em High' is worth the price of the album on its own." Echoes
"A superb collection that shows how much many Jamaican musicians were influenced by the heavy funk belting out of American studios from the early seventies onwards.” Touch
"The most satisfying listening experience so far in the Studio One series." The Wire
"Rare and unreleased grooves from Jamaica's house of excellence." Mojo

Maybe it was inevitable that Vilhelm Bromander and Fredrik Rasten would find each other. A symbiotic musical alliance of suggestive combinatory magic that stretches back to the interstitial two day space that separates their dates of birth and manifests here as the movement between ‘perfect’ or ‘just’ intonation and the ragged, psychoactive energy of the slippages from and towards that togetherness that render otherwise simple patterns or generally understood repetitions as wildly other and alive.

Astral Twins shares ‘twin’ works by each composer. The patiently unfolding real time retuning of Fredrik Rasten’s guitars on the a-side’s Sojourns and Vilhelm Bromander’s quickened steps and spry looping melodies on the flip’s Partially Dancing.

Both artists have history of going deep into the aesthetic and acoustic impact of intonation (how you think about what is ‘in tune’). Where their first LP (...for some reason that escapes us, 2019, Differ Records) shared a gorgeous set of sustained tone colour fields, this time they lean more explicitly into the folk music traditions of Scandinavia and further afield, whilst echoing the zoned minimalist atmosphere of Arthur Russell’s classic Instrumentals.

Recorded up close and in real time at Fylkingen’s soon-to-be-abandoned temporary location in Stockholm’s southern suburb of Bredäng, Astral Twins sings with the possibility that one plus one can equal more than two.

Fredrik Rasten:
 Sojourns explores the live retuning of guitar and double bass in a sequence of just intonation harmonies. A guitar ostinato runs throughout the piece where the retuning becomes an integral part of the composition. The slow pace reveals every detail in the transition from one harmonic arpeggio to another — how interfering waves emerge and disappear as the tonal interactions settle in electric clarity. The double bass shadows the guitar's process and comments with occasional pizzicato tones and register jumps, at times providing a low foundation for the sound and sometimes soaring together with the guitar. This is music that is deeply listening; experimental and at the same time humbly inviting many kinds of being with sound.

Vilhelm Bromander: 
As the title suggests, this song has a partially dancing character. The title also has a double meaning with reference to the partials and harmonics that dance together. The basic idea was to write music in just intonation that instead of being drone-based is reminiscent of a lightly dancing folk music, where the joyous feeling of just being in the music — “musicking" — is allowed to lead the way.

The double bass plays repeated overtone double stops in an open harmonic progression with subtle modulations that is inspired in equal parts by Steve Lacy's persistent repetition of phrases as east-asian khaen music. The guitars and mandolin have a freer role, with plucked retuned strings that enhance the bass's modulations and provide forward movement. The music invites to both melodic and spectral listening, suddenly halting so that other focal points can reveal themselves. For example, a chord sequence suddenly transitions to a more spectral part where Fredrik is playing a bowed guitar with a chain, several plucking guitars, voices, and pitch pipes. I wanted to make something ‘orchestral’ with just two people and no overdubs: a dance of overtones and open resonant strings, where we seamlessly take turns standing in the foreground.

“One of Berghain’s longest-serving residents, Luke Slater has been defining bleepy, polyrhythmic, industrial-strength techno as Planetary Assault Systems since the mid-nineties. P.A.S albums tend to come together in their own time:

“External signals and signs combine until the recipe feels right, both musically and from being ‘out there’,” Slater adds. “10 years since I released Arc Angel on Ostgut Ton, and it’s a fitting pleasure to combine live show ideas and studio work for the new album, served up with raw energy” That patience runs through his whole Ostgut catalogue; since Temporary Suspension brought its machine-tooled weight and alien feeling to the label in 2009, each P.A.S. release on Ostgut Ton has been its own quest for discovery, from The Messenger’s search for sounds not yet present in club music to Arc Angel’s focus on melody to the deep hypnosis of Plantae.

His new album, Planetary People has the deliberate imagination and depth of a record that took its time, shaped as much by live rooms and crowds as by the studio.

“Into The Night” creates a haunting, dystopic environment of corroded acid saturated in echo, absorbing from the first second. “Labyrinth” breaks into buoyant tribal percussion, modulated chirps trading off over propulsive drums. “Quadrant 10” is clean, delay-drenched techno, buzzing with noise splatters over saturated thuds. “Sermon Of The Light Tides” scrambles metallic bell sequences that distort and evolve throughout, reminiscent of a dial-up modem crossed with a game of Frogger, squelching between percussive bursts and stripped-back kicks. “Brave Cosmo” is tormentingly menacing, eerie synths panning around buried vocal fragments over frantic percussion. “Retina Burn” rolls on fierce, cement-mixer 909 cycles, rave stabs over a ride that locks you in, the whole track stuttering and repeating before stripping back to a bare echoing kick and building itself again. “Thunder Major” barrels on open hats and reverb-drenched claps ricocheting through twisting wreaths of delay, mesmeric and relentless. “Beton Brut” marches juggernaut percussion stamping through hall reverb so vast you can visualise the room, the darkest and most unrelenting track on the record. “No Ninja” crunches in metallic and immediate, a wiry plucked lead threading through glitch with the bass held low and deep, mixed so precisely you can see every layer stacked in your mind’s eye. “Ha Jam” is danceable techno with plenty of funk and a sophisticated looseness, a vocal laugh bouncing off clanging metal blocks and rave stabs. “Lynx” lowpasses its rave stabs and crystalline beeps, chirpy hats ticking, cold metal repeats, old school and mesmeric. “Generation Slip” closes everything out, ominous and churning, skittering percussion and electrical sparks rattling through steel, a freight train barrelling on into oblivion.

This reissue marks the creation of Silver Apples Foundation, which is both a non profit organisation and new imprint whose mission is to honour the legacy wishes of Simeon Coxe to preserve the memory of Silver Apples by promoting electronic music and the setting up of an electronic music scholarship fund. This release will be followed later in the year with the long awaited Silver Apples biography, ‘Electronic Evocations', by music journalist and writer Kris Needs. This version of Oscillations was the last ever recording by Simeon at his ChickenCoop studio in Fairhope Alabama in 2019 and captures how he liked to play it live. Backed with the late Andrew Weatherall's remix of The Edge of Wonder, taken from Silver Apples last ever album Clinging to a Dream. The sleeve art features an Oscillator drawn by Simeon in 2014, while the back cover uses the original Silver Apples logo. But to make this release extra special it comes with a Silver Apples slipmat, featuring the iconic Apples logo

San Francisco style driving techno tinged with dark dubs and disco from two of the town’s most explosive producers.

Brick & Zero Idea represent the same city, blazing their own paths in San Francisco’s heady techno scene. Both manage their own labels / parties, Brick with Perfect Dark and Vitamin1000 a la Zero Idea respectively, but are no strangers in the studio together.

First up, two full-bodied techno timebombs from the duo: a mega sub’n’dubchord special alert on A1’s “West End” paired with a more refined, smoother, slippier companion on the A2 “No Room For Error”. Combined-strengths banger collabs for different moments and moods of a night.

Sticking with the theme, we see contrasting solo tracks on the flip side as well. Brick’s “Sigil” spotlights the producer’s laser focus for darker, hypnotic, full force synths in impeccable arrangement, while “Xhale” ends this release on an upliftingly funky bassline disco tip showcasing Zero Idea’s ease at blending techno sensibilities with French House techniques.

Cosmic G maps the liminal terrain between waking consciousness and neural drift across four transmissions. Synaptic pathways fold into spiraling architectures. Each sequence a deeper descent into the mind's hidden hollow circuitry. From euphoric dissolve to the hum of interior mechanisms, dream state traces the geometry of altered perception where the dancefloor becomes ritual chamber. An invitation to slip into the frontal cortex and navigate the frequencies that rewire thought itself.

Sixteen killer 70s reggae funk and soul cuts from the likes of John Holt, Lee Perry, Cornel Campbell, The Cimarons, The Chosen Few and more featuring superb reggae takes on songs by artists including The Jackson 5, William DeVaughn, Diana Ross and The Supremes, War, The Temptations, Roberta Flack, The Stylistics and others!

Well-documented is the influence of American black music on Jamaican styles of the 1960s – from the birth of ska music, when The Skatalites ska-ified the jump-up southern USA rhythm and blues music of Rosco Gordon, Louis Jordan and Fats Domino, through to the creation of rocksteady when Jamaican artists like The Techniques, The Paragons, Alton Ellis and The Melodians turned to the slower rhythms and soulful harmonies of groups such as The Impressions and The Drifters for inspiration. 

Less-well established is that in the 1970s Jamaicans didn’t (shock!) stop listening to American black music styles, with many 70s reggae artists as invested in soul, funk and the proto-disco sounds of Philadelphia, as was the case with rhythm and blues in the previous decade. In the 1970s, while Jamaica promoted its own roots reggae styles around the world, powerhouse USA soul labels such as Motown, Philadelphia International and Stax Records were at the same time all popular on the island.
This interaction between American and Jamaican music was not limited to Jamaica. In Britain, first-generation Caribbean-émigré children in the 1960s and early 70s grew up with an equal love of both soul and reggae, which manifested itself in the home-grown arrival of lovers rock in the mid-1970s.
Soul Jazz Records’ new ‘Reggae Island Soul’ tells this story of how soul and funk-infused reggae in the 1970s united the sounds of Jamaica, USA and the UK into a highly addictive cultural hybrid of styles.