Search:slo fi

Six years after their last full-length release, Satoshi & Makoto return with Mirage Café, the highly anticipated new album on 8mm Records, in collaboration with Standart Magazine.

A carefully crafted and long-awaited work, Mirage Café is more than an album — it is a fully immersive sensory experience. The Japanese duo expand their signature sound into deeper and more cinematic territory, blending refined electronica, ambient textures, subtle jazz inflections and understated groove with remarkable elegance and control.

The title evokes an imaginary café — a space of contemplation, connection and inspiration. The partnership with Standart Magazine reinforces this conceptual layer, bridging music and coffee culture into a cohesive narrative that feels both intimate and international. The result is an album that unfolds like a slow ritual: warm, enveloping and meticulously detailed.

Throughout the record, Satoshi & Makoto demonstrate a mature and confident songwriting approach. The production is rich yet restrained, atmospheric yet rhythmically engaging — balancing introspection with forward motion. Lush harmonies, delicate arrangements and immersive sound design create a listening experience that rewards both focused attention and late-night drifting.

With Mirage Café , the duo not only meet expectations after a six-year silence — they surpass them. This is a masterwork of nuance and vision, poised to become a defining chapter in their discography and a standout release in the contemporary electronic landscape.

Rasante Gitarren, hämmernde Drums und eingängige, aber tiefgründige Texte. Das sind die Mittel, mit denen Pardoner seit über einem Jahrzehnt ihre ,Slacker"-Songs formen. Auf ihrem fünften Album ,Target Practice" verfeinern sie ihren Ansatz weiter, auf der Suche nach einem himmlischen Pop-Hit Ö. Da sie einen kulturellen Rückfall in Richtung Math-Rock und Prog spüren, ist dies ihr bisher geradlinigstes Album. Fehlende sind die überraschenden Blast Beats und Szenenwechsel, die die Markenzeichen von ,Came Down Different" (2021) und ,Peace Loving People" (2023) waren. Übrig bleiben 10 prägnante Songs, geprägt von verspielter Boshaftigkeit und Satire. Es ist schwer, inmitten der feindseligen Kräfte dieser Welt kein ,Blackpilled"-Doomer zu sein. Die Angriffe der Band auf pseudo-intellektuelle Hochkunst und Kollegen aus der Szene sind jedoch nicht frei von Selbstkritik. ,Driving across the country // Preaching bulls**t gospel" wird auf der Lead-Single ,Twisted" halb gesungen, begleitet von klirrenden Gitarrenklängen. ,Target Practice" - vom ,Record Store Final Boss" abgesegnet - ist eine moderne, spritzigere Interpretation des College-Rock der 80er/90er. Flying Nun, Smudge und die lautere Seite von Yo La Tengo sind alle im Geiste präsent. Die Single ,Don't Slouch" ist ein Versuch, einen Blessed-Virgins-Song auf Xanax-Art zu interpretieren. Wann wurde diese Band das letzte Mal auf einem One-Sheet erwähnt? Vor ihrem Album-Closer ,Changing Mags", bei dem die Band ihr Herz auf der Zunge trägt, covern sie die Nuggets-nahen The Barracudas, deren Text ,Target Practice" auf den Punkt bringt: ,Ich bilde mir das nicht ein, ich sehe die Zeichen. Wir leben in gewalttätigen Zeiten."

There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.


Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.


At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along

There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.


Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.


At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along

Healing Patterns is the debut full-length release on Appendix.files from Clima, following 2025's Transient State EP. Written between 2025 and 2026 during a period of chronic illness, the seven-track LP translates physical restriction into deep, spacious electronic compositions. Using palatial pads, slow-decaying echoes, and bodily low-end, Clima reminisces over residual club ambience and shared listening experiences with friends.

The record moves from the gradual, dub-heavy pressure of "Weight" through ASMR-like vocal glitter and tight rhythmic clusters, before dissolving into the quiet introspection of the title track's theme. Healing Patterns is a patient study in focus, repetition, and the spaces left behind.

Artist Info: Clima is an experimental electronic music project exploring spatial sound, texture, rhythm and the emotional residue of club culture. Their work moves between ambient environments, dub-weighted rhythm and abstract electronic composition, with a focus on deep listening and subtle shifts in perception.

The track titles on Post Dub Cities – the new album by Adriano Zanni, photographer, sound artist, and field recordist – evoke the aftermath, that moment when a place continues to exist and live on, but no longer serves anyone. The human element has vanished, whether it happened overnight or through a slow abandonment that lasted for years. The perspective shifts: buildings, homes and palaces reveal a dimension of reality all their own, in which even the ruins give shape to this landscape that endures, transforming into pure presence.

This, after all, is our fate. The fate of us human beings, of our civilisation, of every civilisation: to pass away, to be forgotten, to erect monuments whose significance no one will remember once we are gone.

The opening track Crisopoli transforms the sonic dimension of a city into an echo chamber: a dark, urban dub built from delays and resonances, holding the imprint of what is no longer there — like a bassline that keeps vibrating even after its source has gone silent. What we see is not the presence, but its reverb.

Available from September 11, second excerpt Warosha gives us a minimalist, enveloping, solemn beat, like the symbols on a map that no one can read anymore. Warosha was the district of luxury hotels overlooking the sea in the city of Famagusta. After the island of Cyprus was invaded by the Turkish army, the entire area, emptied of its inhabitants, who had fled south, was fenced off and surrounded by barbed wire. No one has been allowed to enter it since 1974. Now, on these unspoilt beaches, sea turtles have found the perfect place to breed.

Fordlândia, on the other hand, is the symbol of Henry Ford’s failed dream of conquest. An industrial settlement built deep within the Amazon rainforest, several hours’ boat journey from the nearest towns, to gain access to natural rubber for the tyres of his mass-produced cars in Michigan. An extremely costly project, it quickly became a ruinous pipe dream: a town that has been uninhabited for almost a century and has since been reclaimed by nature.

For a long time now, Adriano Zanni has been exploring, through music and photography, the landscape that unfolds before our eyes, as attentive yet silent observers. As if we were absent, a civilisation that has long since vanished: human presence has dissolved, preparing to fade into oblivion. The precise depiction of places through field recordings, and the black-and-white imagery, give rise to apparitions, hallucinations, and memories. The less present we are, the more we seek meaning. We resist abandonment and the indifference of time.

In the ten tracks (plus three bonus tracks) of Post Dub Cities the echoes and reverberations of dub grant us access to an unknown future, as yet untold – in which we are nothing more than a vague memory. The deep sound guides us through a landscape that is familiar yet unknown, unrecognisable. The cold, distant, industrial rhythm resonates within us as if we were the last, all too aware, inhabitant of a now-deserted village.

Every place – be it an abandoned mining settlement on an island in Svalbard, or a ghost town in Pennsylvania evacuated following an underground fire that has been burning for sixty years at a depth of one hundred metres – leaves questions unanswered, shrouds itself in mystery, and makes us wonder, ceaselessly: what happened here?

In the end, we realise that we don’t really care that much about knowing the details of the disappearance. We can guess them, we’ve seen it happen a thousand times before. Just like in the photos accompanying the album, portraits of ghostly, deserted cities: Belgrade, like Venice, Dublin, Sarajevo, Lisbon, Kraków, Sofia, Naples, Hanoi, Lampedusa, Tehran. Unexpectedly, pleasantly emptied of people, and of their obsessions, struggles, illusions.

Then, suddenly, the crowd returns. Busy, feverish, hardworking. The record ends, the spell is broken. We feel a sense of longing for a future that has not yet come to pass, for a place we were only able to observe because we were not there.

2026 Repress

johnny's disk record is an independent jazz label run by the owner of jazz cafe kaiunbashi no johnny located in rikuzentakata city in iwate prefecture, japan.

the legendary label released a string of albums of high quality but down-to-earth music, spanning from modern jazz, avant-garde jazz to left-field pop. albums such as 'farewell my johnny / left alone' and 'aya's samba' has reached cult status among fans as some of the best works to come out of the japanese jazz scene.

another japanese jazz classic, aya's samba was a debut effort by bassist eiji nakayama, who played as part of elvin jones' jazz machine and toured with don friedman.

this album is an important release in the johnny's disk catalogue, not only because it is the first ever release, but also because the owner hearing the band play was the reason why the label came to be.

'aya's samba' is a mellow jazz samba in minor key that's considered a japanese jazz classic. slow ballad 'yellow living' is drenched in melancholy with emotive keys and sax notes, while the dreamy 'sea sea town' impresses with a captivating, expressive sax solo. the 4 tracker ends with 'far-away road,' an uptempo tune with rhythmic keys.

Tiki for the Atomic Age feels like a mid-century transmission intercepted from a parallel timeline—one where hi-fi futurism, Polynesian fantasy, and postwar optimism never lost their sense of wonder. Kava Kon isn’t recreating exotica so much as reviving its original promise: escape, elegance, and possibility, rendered in warm, widescreen stereo.

Built on shimmering vibraphones, reverb-drenched guitars, analog organs, and ritual-leaning percussion, these tracks move at an unhurried pace. This is oceanic music—designed for dim lights, glowing glassware, and time stretched just enough to breathe. The lineage is clear: lounge exotica, bachelor-pad modernism, space-age pop. But this isn’t pastiche or museum work. It’s retro-futurism with intention, imagined from the future looking back.

The “Atomic Age” isn’t just aesthetic shorthand. It speaks to contrast—leisure in the shadow of anxiety, beauty alongside uncertainty, fantasy as a necessary technology. Kava Kon understands that tiki was never about geography; it was about psychology. A constructed elsewhere. A permission slip to slow down.

Pressed on vinyl, Tiki for the Atomic Age comes fully alive: tactile, immersive, and meant to be lived with. For listeners drawn to mid-century dreamscapes and modern exotica that honors the past without freezing it, this is an invitation—step sideways out of the present and into something more elegant.

Riding high off their Movement Detroit b2b set at the Pyramid stage, Rocksteady Disco right-hand man Eddie Logix and head-honcho Peter Croce finally share a split 12" of some of their choicest edits. Eddie takes the A-side, starting the release with the blistering and tropical "Fire Dance". "Good Time" is up next, a midtempo groover full of talking drum and juju guitar dubness. Mr. PC takes the flip, with the disco-meets-folk-meets-almost-gospel "Brothers & Sisters", which he originally made for his first Movement Detroit set. The slomo sleazy groove of "I Wouldn't Want To Be Like You" rounds out the release. Instant cop!

"Here is a tender journey through loss and rebirth — a raw exploration of grief, heartbreak, and the emptiness that follows. It unfolds the fragile moments after losing a beloved friend, the fragile attempts to mend a fractured love, and the sudden rupture that shakes the soul to its core. Amidst the turmoil, anxiety pulses and the body aches with memories too heavy to hold. Yet, slowly, the darkness gives way to light. Breath returns. Support is found in unexpected places. Memories surface through hypnotic whispers, guiding the way back to softness and hope. This is not a story of instant healing, but a delicate awakening — a reckoning with old patterns, a reclaiming of the self, a learning to love differently.

Intimate and universal, fragile yet fiercely alive."

Theory Therapy presents “Smoker’s Choice,” the second release and first full-length from Alien D, the project of New York producer Daniel Creahan. Following last year’s “For the Early Hours of a World in Bloom” EP, the record takes on a decidedly more spacious, inward bent, with softened rhythms and arrangements given more room to breathe, folding electronics and acoustic composition into a shifting, ethereal wash.

Featuring a range of collaborations across the record, including guest vocals from his wife Ellen, Creahan’s electronics serve as a base for a series of dubwise interpolations of his collaborators’ work, from washed-out zither and bowed banjo to scorching saxophone leads.

There’s a particular pleasure in the obfuscation here, each instrument buffed into a mass of sound. A sub-bass tone might linger beneath the surface before receding into the haze; a groove can feel steady one moment and subtly shift the next. Repetition becomes less about locking into a pattern than watching it slowly change, like the same view seen through moving water.

“Smoker’s Choice” finds its depth in these small shifts, with dub rhythms, soft-edged electronics and acoustic inflections reaching something dreamlike but tactile, where atmosphere and groove are never quite separate. The record feels like a snapshot of several forces moving in slow motion – a landscape of drifting forms and blurred boundaries, where nothing feels entirely fixed.

For more than 20 years, every CASPIAN album has been driven by a desire to stretch boundaries — a relentless ambition that's resulted in one of post-rock's most revered catalogs and established the Massachusetts quintet as an enduring, global force in the genre's modern era. On CASPIAN, the band’s first album in six years and debut for Wax Bodega, the more unexpected way forward was to stop searching for what they hadn’t yet done and instead trust what had defined them from the beginning.

The six-song, 39-minute effort draws freely from the musical vocabulary the band have spent their career writing: evocative melodic themes, dense textures, swelling crescendos and crushing heaviness that rolls in like a slow-moving storm on the horizon. But they still find new possibilities within those familiar contours, allowing patient development and repetition to carry as much weight as surprise. The nine-minute “Remain” turns a recurring melody into a sweeping study in tension and release, while “No One Left to Tell” layers subtle shifts around a hypnotic tremolo figure and “A Great Fire” sends serpentine guitars crashing into buzzsaw riffs. Even the graceful 3/4-time closer “Waltz for the End,” completed in a half-hour burst of inspiration, reflects the quiet confidence of five musicians comfortable enough in their skin to resist tearing everything down for the sake of reinvention, even as the circumstances surrounding them change dramatically.

Colorize presents Echoes, the highly anticipated debut album from Massachusetts songwriter, producer and musician Jack Willard, a richly melodic body of work.

Jack Willard blends organic songwriting with modern electronic production, cinematic storytelling and immersive sound design, an emotionally driven style that has earned support from Above & Beyond, Tritonal, Yotto, Nora En Pure and Bob Moses since debut single Celsius, alongside airplay on SiriusXM Chill and BBC Radio 1 and millions of streams worldwide. The Massachusetts native made his Colorize debut in 2023 with Big Sky, an instrumental favourite still in regular SiriusXM Chill rotation, before expanding his sound on the Patterns EP with his first larger scale vocal collaborations, including fan favourites Everything All At Once and Wanna Know. Following performances across both U.S. coasts, Echoes arrives as Willard’s most ambitious project to date.

For more than 20 years, every CASPIAN album has been driven by a desire to stretch boundaries — a relentless ambition that's resulted in one of post-rock's most revered catalogs and established the Massachusetts quintet as an enduring, global force in the genre's modern era. On CASPIAN, the band’s first album in six years and debut for Wax Bodega, the more unexpected way forward was to stop searching for what they hadn’t yet done and instead trust what had defined them from the beginning.

The six-song, 39-minute effort draws freely from the musical vocabulary the band have spent their career writing: evocative melodic themes, dense textures, swelling crescendos and crushing heaviness that rolls in like a slow-moving storm on the horizon. But they still find new possibilities within those familiar contours, allowing patient development and repetition to carry as much weight as surprise. The nine-minute “Remain” turns a recurring melody into a sweeping study in tension and release, while “No One Left to Tell” layers subtle shifts around a hypnotic tremolo figure and “A Great Fire” sends serpentine guitars crashing into buzzsaw riffs. Even the graceful 3/4-time closer “Waltz for the End,” completed in a half-hour burst of inspiration, reflects the quiet confidence of five musicians comfortable enough in their skin to resist tearing everything down for the sake of reinvention, even as the circumstances surrounding them change dramatically.

Richly progressive folk-informed heavy post-rock and a sick burn to boot. - The Obelisk Rebecca Vernon (SubRosa), the driving creative force behind THE KEENING returns with her second album, Devotion. The new album sees Vernon and company releasing one of the year's most evocative albums; a truly compelling mix of slow burning, ethereal post-rock, folk, goth, and soaring doom. For Vernon, the writing process for Devotion took place in two starkly different environments. It ranged from the contemplative solitude of a friend’s cabin in a deserted Idaho ski resort, to the hectic reality of a 55+ senior living community in Spokane, Washington, where she was staying with her father. This shift resulted in an explosive album with a subtle duality that resonates throughout its most poignant moments. Take the lead single, "A Little Bit of Blood," for example. Quiet, acoustic guitar strums give way for Vernon's haunting vocals, before the backing instrumentation explodes into a soaring chorus reminding the listener that sometimes the best paths taken are the most difficult. "You drew a little bit of blood to show me Just a little bit of blood to make me see It took a little bit of blood to wake me Just a little wound in the night to free me" In a 2024 interview with Decibel Magazine, Vernon discussed the drastic shift in heavy music's themes in recent years, highlighting a willingness to convey raw emotion: "Metal is beginning to share more vulnerable things, more confessional things. Metal has almost become a safe place to talk about those things. People are being open with their struggles. Twenty years ago, they wouldn't have." Devotion lays these emotional confessions bare and showcases a truly bright burn. Devotion was recorded in April 2022, again at Hallowed Halls in Portland, with Billy Anderson and Nathan Carson featured in their same roles as heard on Little Bird. Once again, Vernon showcases her writing prowess, having a heavy hand on all the instrumentation for Devotion; Vernon played drums, guitar, piano, organ, and hammered dulcimer, and provided most of the vocals on both albums, with a few guest vocalists added to the mix.

Love or its absence dominates the intimate songs on the new album from ARBORIST – the musical outlet of Mark McCambridge. Looking For Love, Arborist’s fourth album of exquisitely inventive Americana, places us firmly in his hometown of Belfast, allowing it to act as a microcosm of the wider-world, with all its foibles and charms. We find fictional protagonists scouring the dark corners of the city, wiling-away afternoons in strip clubs, wandering the streets in all weather and reflecting on the harsh reality of modern society, all in search of an elusive love – emphasising our need for it now more than ever.
Looking for Love is ARBORIST’s first album to be self-produced by McCambridge, largely from his home studio in Belfast – and at times it feels like we are in the room with him. It’s a different kind of record for him as previously he has always sought collaboration; whether it be with Kim Deal who chose to sing intertwined harmony on his debut single “Twisted Arrow”, or recording in The Curfew Tower owned by The KLF’s Bill Drummond who described Mark’s songwriting as being “riven with more loss than any record since Leonard Cohen quit this world”, and who Matthew E White and his Spacebomb band collaborated with to such astonishing effect on the previous Arborist LP, 2023’s An Endless Sequence of Dead Zeros, winner of the prestigious Northern Ireland Music Prize. This time, with no outside producer steering the way, McCambridge found that the quiet hours were where he felt most at ease, despite periods of trial and error, and, by his own admission, moments of feeling genuinely lost in it all.

Despite playing many of the parts himself, McCambridge still called upon old friends from the community around him; Spacebomb’s resident bassist Cameron Ralston (Bonnie Light Horseman, Hiss Golden Messenger) again features throughout the record, alongside Eamon Ferris (The Waterboys) on drums, with the great and the good from Belfast’s vibrant music scene. Grainne Meyer plays concert harp and Aga Olek plays violin for the quasi-title track “Looking 4 Love” – an off-kilter love-letter to Belfast. Meilana Gillard provides a sleazy saxophone on “Bye Bye Johnny Cash” – a seedy tale of a man obsessively visiting a dancer in a club, and The Larne Community Youth Choir provide backing vocals for “Go Kill The Fatted Calf” – a song Mark wrote about his son growing up, a take on the parable of the prodigal son, with Jonny Ashe’s blistering guitar solo adding an album highlight. The Errigal Ensemble String Quartet and Aisling Agnew’s breathtaking flute solo feature on “What Is It You’re Asking” – a song about love, or its absence, both personally and universally in these times.
McCambridge was recently honoured with a “Fellowship” by the Seamus Heaney Centre at Queen's University Belfast where he collaborated with such illustrious names from the literary world as Nick Laird, Caoilinn Hughes and Conor McPherson. Through the University he was given access to the music department's Steinways and pipe organs, and decided to try one out for the album’s centrepiece “I’ve Been A Flaneur”. As Mark explains, "The drone on the pipe organ — and the sound of it starting and stopping — was so visceral that I decided to try a half-written song against it right there and then, and this came out in one take… The song was a breakthrough artistically - I don't think I'll ever record in the same way again after this."
The album was engineered by longtime collaborator Ben McAuley (Van Morrison) and mixed by Jimmy Robertson (Anna Calvi, Beth Gibbons, Fat Dog). The results are staggering, devastating and uplifting in equal measure, calling to mind albums such as Songs Ohia’s Magnolia Electric Co., The Divine Comedy’s Regeneration, The Blue Nile’s Hats and Wilco’s Ode to Joy, as well as early-70s records from John Cale, John Lennon and Bill Fay.

Belfast native Mark McCambridge played his first show as Arborist supporting James Yorkston. A solo tour followed, and impressive performances led to notable support slots alongside Low, Cat Power, Echo & The Bunnymen and Guy Garvey. Arborist's debut single, the Americana-tinged "Twisted Arrow," caught the attention of the critics with an astonishing duet with Kim Deal of The Breeders. The debut album Home Burial (2016) and its follow-up, A Northern View, both received glowing praise, from The Guardian ("instant classic" ----) to MOJO ("devastatingly bleak… upliftingly beautiful" ----) to Uncut (8/10), with BBC 6 Music play from Cerys Matthews, Cillian Murphy, Lauren Laverne, Radcliffe and Maconie and Gideon Coe — and Steve Lamacq calling single "Taxi" "one of those records that makes you immediately stop what you're doing." He went on to even greater success with the 2023 Northern Irish Music Prize winning third LP, An Endless Sequence of Dead Zeroes, which was recorded at SpaceBomb Studios in Virginia with musician and producer Matthew E White. For his fourth LP, Looking For Love, he has signed with Fika Recordings and with a tour approaching in November, 2026 looks set to be a seminal year for the Irish artist.

Murmuration’ is the low hum made by vast, beautifully choreographed flocks of starlings as they simultaneously flap their wings and take to the sky. Some people say that the frequency of this unique, rumbling, oscillating sound can cure diseases...

One of the most exciting live bands in the UK, British Birds combine the garage-punk energy of Billy Childish, the wry English sophistication of XTC and the witty pop inventiveness of The Lovely Eggs. Like a murmurating flock of starlings, they create a unique sound, and might even be able to cure diseases.

Based in Chorley, Lancashire, British Birds are a resolutely DIY band. Bobby records and mixes all the music; Emma creates all the artwork. Their first two albums were self-released, selling hundreds of copies at gigs and at a few chosen record stores. British Birds didn’t wait for permission to take flight. They just got on with it. Their songs are sophisticated, hard-hitting, and very skilful. It may be DIY, but it’s big and it’s ambitious.

Sessions for Marc Riley and Gideon Coe have followed, along with tours supporting The Bug Club, BC Camplight and Lovely Eggs.

‘Murmurate, Oscillate’ kicks off with Lie Down With Dogs, Stand Up With Fleas, a rousing expression of exasperation at our passivity in the face of lame authority. British Birds are acute observers of the English political scene, shrouding their observations in humour and surrealism. Polka Dot Eyes is another piece of sharp social observation: it portrays Lancashire lads – friends from school – who join the Army and return home physically and mentally damaged. The song is simultaneously disturbing, funny and catchy as hell. From the fog of disinformation and doubt that surrounds us all in 2020s Britian, British Birds embrace the darkness, but with wit and verve – no slogans, no easy answers – and with an energy that helps us escape the mundanity of a declining island. This might all sound a bit bleak, but it’s not: every single one of the songs on this album has a chorus as big as a house.

There are personal songs too: Scary Movies is a poignant description of Bobby and Emma’s grandfather, who delighted in showing them horror films when they were kids – giving them sneak previews of the darkness they’d come to embrace as adults; Just Like Them is a celebration of introversion: it might not be fun, but it’s better than being an idiot. (Paradoxically, any other introverts who hear this song will feel impelled to join in in the chorus.) Blame Game and Thunder Claps examine the darkness inherent in relationships: there is always an impending storm, if you recognise the low hum of the imminent thunder. Once again: the choruses of these songs confound the melancholy sentiment.

You’ll get the same impression if you see British Birds live: Bobby’s ferocious guitar and dark lyrics are counterpointed with Emma’s sometimes haunting, sometimes playful vocal responses and insistent rhythms. You’ll be swept away by the energy of a band who don’t know the meaning of limits. And as the songs get darker and darker the smile on your face gets wider and wider.

The core members of British Birds are siblings Bobby and Emma Townson, working from their HQ-cum-nest in Chorley. Drums are by Dominic Lawson (apart from Michael Aindley on ‘Just Like Them’). Bass is by James Robinson.

British Birds will be embarking on a headline tour of the UK in early 2027.

Familiar. Usually reserved for things we think we know. A face, a place, a feeling, a record perhaps. Until, of course, they aren’t quite the same anymore. Or maybe you aren’t.
Jennifer’s debut album lives somewhere around there.
It’s a record about time, which is already a fairly ambitious subject considering nobody seems to have figured that one out yet. More specifically, it’s about what
time does to a person. The old versions, the new versions, and all the ones in between that you only notice when something suddenly brings them back. Someone you
haven’t seen in years. A room you used to know. A certain way the light falls. That sort of thing.

There’s a bit of a doppelgänger situation going on, too. Finding something completely new and somehow recognising it. Meeting yourself again without immediately realising who you’re talking to.
Which can be nice. Or strange. Usually both. The songs on Familiar sit comfortably with that contradiction. Looking backwards without wanting to go back. Missing things without necessarily wanting them
returned. Realising that people who once occupied most of your waking hours can become people whose address you don’t know. Meanwhile, some tiny, seemingly irrelevant detail from fifteen years ago remains perfectly intact.
Memory has its own filing system. Not a particularly sensible one.
Jennifer wrote a series of poems alongside the album. In them, familiarity appears in melting snow, rough coastlines, a kitchen already warm in the morning, somebody’s hands fitting into yours. Elsewhere she wonders about someone she
once knew everything about and now knows nothing about. They could live around the corner. They could live on another continent. They could, technically, be dead. Probably not. But that’s time for you.
Maybe Familiar is less about remembering who you were than realising you never entirely stopped being them. Things get added. Things disappear. Things come back looking slightly different.
And somehow, you recognise them.

spirit blue have become one of London’s most elusive word-of-mouth successes. Formed in South East London, the duo quietly built a devoted following through years hosting NTS Radio’s flagship Early Bird show before stepping out from behind the booth with 2024’s breakout double single “perfect storm / desire machine”. Rare live appearances and instant sell-outs of their limited dubplate pressings have turned spirit blue into one of the capital’s most sought-after underground acts, with admirers ranging from Ethel Cain to EsDeeKid. The glistening guitars, soft-hued vocals and sparse production of “ps / dm” and its follow-up “language” conjure a collaged vision of 90s alt-rock melancholy refracted through lo-fi intimacy and electronic texture. The vocals remain understated yet emotionally direct, grounding each track in a vulnerability that feels unforced. Echoes of slowcore’s more spectral edges drift through the duo’s blurred songwriting, where moments of stillness carry as much weight as the hooks themselves. The first ultra-limited pressing sold out instantly; this new edition arrives including the vinyl-exclusive, weightless, “devil mix” versions on the B side and demand already running high.

Hazy, unhurried ambient escape Hidden Hour feels less like an album and more like a collection of small, deliberate pauses from Los Angeles-based Cynthia Bernard. The 18 tracks add up to an album exactly an hour long, and each one is tied to a specific place, be that a bridge, a mountaintop in Los Padres, a friend's tea hut in Mendocino, and you can hear that groundedness in every choice, from glockenspiel to piccolo guitar to lap steel. Collaborations with Liom and Dimming blend in seamlessly to Marine Eyes' first solo release on her own label, Cloud Collecting, and it carries the mark of someone able to soundtrack stillness with real beauty.

“I thought I knew you, but you are alien to me.”

Twelve years have passed since TWINS NATALIA’s debut album, “Destiny Room”, but Dave, Marc and Steve have never really stopped working on new ideas and projects, including the release of a mini-album from Marc’s solo project SHIBUYA STATION. This featured their first collaboration with Greek artist KRIISTAL ANN (also known from PARADOX OBSCUR), who provided the vocals for the track “Madness”. This led to Anna being invited by TWINS NATALIA to perform lead vocals on their cover version of KNOW’s “Knights of Pleasure”. The results were so pleasing that, from then on, Anna was persistently ’pestered’ to work on a TWINS NATALIA EP, which slowly morphed into a complete album entitled “I Died On Mars”. The album is a journey through electronic soundscapes and pure, dark ’80s minimal synth-pop, full of melancholia, haunting melodies, elaborate synth sound design and sequencing, ranging from neat to gnarly, and, of course, KRIISTAL ANN’s charismatic voice icing the cake.

“I Died On Mars” presents us with further surprises: TWINS NATALIA version of “The Dagger In Me” by ’80s Greek post-punk legends THE HANDS OF CAIN, as well as “A Different Hum” by PARADOX OBSCUR, a song that surely needs no further introduction. Anna has not shied away from specially re-recording the vocals for this version, while both versions have been given some distinctly Twins Natalia-specific additions and treatments. Furthermore, Anna has contributed her own composition “Find Me I A Fantasy”, so you’re in for a treat or two, for sure.

Mastering by Nikolas Haldoupis at SoundCave Studios Athens.

Graphic design by Steve Lippert with some original photography by Kriistal Ann.

For over 25 years, David Madson (aka Odd Nosdam) has been stationed away from the light of the mainstream, diligently working the nightshift. Every so often, we awake to find another of his bleary and beautiful missives slung into the waking world – albums whose assemblages of sampled grooves, atmospheres and voices are unified by a hallucinatory sense of melody, like disparate visions strung together through ribbons of sleep-talk. From his earliest days as a member of the seminal group cLOUDDEAD, through his remixes for artists such as Boards of Canada and Black Moth Super Rainbow, Nosdam has been reporting back from his rounds upon the perimeters of culture and consciousness, forging a musical language all of his own.

On Patrol is the second Odd Nosdam LP to be released on The Notwist’s imprint Alien Transistor – following on from the 2019 album Mirrors – and continues a collaborative history that begun with a 2008 remix of The Notwist song, “Sleep”. It’s a love letter to the vinyl format, produced with the aim of optimizing for a single LP. This objective permeated every aspect of the album’s production, from the duration of each side through to the vinyl mastering (Jessica Thompson) and lacquer-cutting (Dubplates & Mastering, Berlin). As we've come to expect, the album is built almost entirely from found sounds, many of which were taken from obscure and second-hand vinyl gathered during Nosdam’s ceaseless crate-digging escapades. Other sources include field recordings made in 2022 at the Catalonia summer home of artist Salvador Dalí, which are baked into the swirling sci-fi glide of “Here to Know (Adéu Mix)”, and a sumptuous clunking bass line courtesy of Organi’s Mike Walti, which runs like an infinite highway through the fuzzy, sunbaked sprawl of “Deepsimple”.

Odd Nosdam’s work has always swept the entire atmospheric spectrum, from rhythmic vigour to levitational beauty. On Patrol is perhaps his finest assimilation of these extremes. “Sgt. Pepsi” is the perfect case in point: a formidable slow groove capsizes into vinyl crackle after a mere minute, before the song resurrects itself through sweeping strings and vocal harmonies, sliding against each other like the overlain romantic denouements to a dozen Hollywood films from the 1940s. Elsewhere, “Get You In (Belong Mix)” drapes shoegaze guitar over a trundling funk backbeat, straddling the physical world and the outer realms, while hushed voices point toward the song's implied themes of cultural cliques, critical consensus and the plight of the eternal outsider: “Sure, I can get you in... these people are my friends, I’m one of them - I belong.”

This is music that both endures and disappears. Odd Nosdam has always wielded a strange relationship with time, scrambling association with any specific era, weaving together numerous tempos simultaneously. There is no master clock. Each track could happily hold up as an infinite loop, yet Nosdam clearly favours the potency of the gone-too-soon, applying the fadeout just as hypnosis starts to crest. Indeed, the songs are both the product of meticulous long-term construction and spontaneity. While the foundations of On Patrol have come together over several years, the recording process involved channeling vibes through a vintage Roland Space Echo and bouncing song fragments back and forth from hard disk to cassette 8-track, gifting a phased permanence to creative decisions made on the fly – a hat-tip to the production processes of Nosdam's longtime hero, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. Like a recurring dream, On Patrol appeals to both the plains of momentary ephemera and the long-established backchannels of the unconscious, equal parts revelation and deja vu.

Text by Jack Chuter
Artwork by Ian Ferguson

Madelyn Byrd returns to Glasgow’s Somewhere Press with a hazed set of weightless soundscapes. »Night Rider« opens in widescreen with the chirp of cicadas dancing across a desert landscape, before Shiroishi’s saxophone eventually cuts through the dark like neon. The story Byrd tells is close to their heart: they spent their teenage years in the Sonoran Desert, the vast subtropical expanse spanning parts of Arizona, California, and Mexico. Its seemingly alien landscape — pocked with giant, tree-like cacti and looming rocky outcrops — is lodged in the cultural memory, a quality Byrd draws on as they slowly reveal their poetic narrative.

The album plays like a road movie of sorts, moving through Byrd’s memories and setting them to very different rhythms. Clattering drums emerge on »Of Nature, Of Bodies, Of Dreams«, while Byrd’s soft tones, processed to sound almost otherworldly, glide gently across the metallic clangs. Each track highlights a form of movement: there is the microscopic, insectoid crunch of »Imprint«, where guitar prangs meet Shiroishi’s spirited runs, while »Into Sonoran Pool« creates motion from the atmosphere itself, recreating the thick desert air with shimmering electrical currents and psychedelic processes.

At this point, the album begins to echo Robert Ashley’s late-period theatrical work: compositions that broke with familiar formats, juxtaposing dialogue with knowingly experimental orchestral flourishes. Byrd strikes a similar note through a fusion of poetry, sound design, choral music, and chiming, listless ambient elements that also recall Harold Budd. Budd grew up in the Mojave Desert, which borders the Sonoran, creating an eerie parallel with the moods he conjured throughout his long career.

Byrd finds a similarly aesthetic link to the West Coast landscape, referencing the history of experimental music while establishing their own voice. As the album rides into the sunset with a roar of engines, they offer a distinct vision of pop: »What Is, What Was« integrates a chugging break and ketamised vocal hook, while the finale, »In Perfume, Remember«, lands as a James K-like heartmelter.

The sun sat high above the desert outside Joshua Tree on October 17, 2024, baking the rocks and shrubbery outside the Farrington Observatory as a small group of invited guests ventured up a steep path towards the telescope. Kyle Simon, the artist and printmaker who founded the Observatory, was standing outside the print studio sat below the towering cylindrical building, greeting friends alongside his wife Sarah and lifelong friend Brian Weitz, the musician widely known as Geologist of Animal Collective. Simon and Weitz had spent the previous day testing and retesting a system that would transform the light of the oncoming full moon captured by the gigantic telescope into a signal that would modulate the control voltage of Weitz’s modular synthesizer. As the sun dipped below the horizon line, the audience gathered on a small wooden patio surrounded by speakers while Weitz readied himself behind the array of patches and knobs. Simon addressed the group, presenting the history of The Sirens, the sonic exploration of the night sky’s mystical and scientific significance about to unfold.

The music conjured under the Hunter’s Moon that night is now documented on this first official release of The Sirens, which was conceived by Simon and Weitz as a recurring performance piece and sound installation. Over a decade ago, Simon began immersing himself in literature on humanity’s sonic relationship to the celestial realm, including Homer’s Odyssey, Plato’s “Spindle of Necessity, ” Kepler’s Harmonices Mundi, and the field of astroseismology. He fitted homemade telescopes with photodiodes and optical sensors to make the images audible, finding latent patterns in the noisy sonic signals he began receiving from the stars. With Weitz, the process expanded as the signal was routed through an analog amplifier and set to modulate the pitch, filter, and other elements of his synthesizer. Together they developed a system of improvisation, with Simon adjusting the telescope to change the intensity of the light based on its relationship with the moon’s position (imagine a theremin player moving their hands in subtle, meaningful motion), and Weitz responding to that input in real time: bending it, amplifying it, or letting it stand on its own. The duo debuted the piece at the Integretron in Joshua Tree in 2018, providing a crucial proof of concept for the performance at Farrington featured here.

The first thing the listener hears on The Sirens is the opening of Farrington Observatory, the cranking of motor and metal. As the lens of the telescope is exposed to the evening air, a wavering drone emerges from the synthesizer, flickering at the margins, the tuning of the oscillators adjusting to the rapidly cooling desert air. The piece progresses and the drone becomes a luminous, spherical constant, bathing the listener in pure tone as Weitz draws out harmonically ambiguous melodies that spiral upwards. Electronics crackle and convulse, coalescing into dense dissonance before widening out into an open octave. Just as the moon orbits the Earth and the stars shift as the planet rotates, so each sonic element appears in flux, interrelationships slowly forming and falling away. Divided into two parts, The Sirens flows as a continuous conversation between the artists and the starlight completing its thousand-year journey across the galaxy.

The Sirens belongs primarily to a lineage beyond music: of sea captains navigating by looking skyward, of astrophysicists studying the formation of the Milky Way, of the modern myths of werewolves, of the stories embedded in constellations. As Simon writes in the album’s extensive liner notes, “These stories and explorations reveal a collective yearning to become conscious of our connection to the universe, our deep-seated desire to understand how we fit into it all.” This music underscores the history of the night sky as the place where poetry and science find common ground, where exploration hinges on the imagination. Driven by curiosity and ingenuity, Weitz and Simon look up and wonder.

Smoove delivers another pair of exceptional reworks, breathing fresh life into two disco classics from 1978 and 1979. Staying true to the spirit of the original recordings while adding his signature production touch, both tracks feel timeless yet perfectly suited for today’s dancefloors.

On the A-side, Was That All It Was opens with crisp, punchy drums before gradually unfolding into a masterclass in arrangement. Layer by layer, Smoove rebuilds the track, allowing Jean Carne’s stunning vocal performance to shine through lush string breakdowns, soaring brass, and an irresistible groove.

The flip features Runaway Love, taking a slightly deeper, slower approach. Euphoric backing vocals, warm Fender Rhodes, sweeping strings, and impeccably tight percussion combine to create an uplifting, soulful journey. An elegant and utterly joyful rework from start to finish.

20/20 Vision continues to flourish even well into its third decade. For its next trick, the Leeds label welcomes back Brett Johnson, who was last here 20+ years ago. Releases on Classic Records, DJ Heather collaborations and Derrick Carter championing his work all make him a bona fide house hero and 'Broken Machine' confirms it. 'Unstuck' opens with a mutating disco bassline that refuses to settle, while 'Juiced' dives deep into his signature boompty swing with a drop designed for pure devastation. The title track is the centrepiece - a trippy trip that stretches time entirely before 'iRemember' closes with starry-eyed ambient pads laced above a deep, slow, gorgeous groove. Sophisticated, playful and musical as always.

The Return of The Vagabond – Revisited! On The New Way
There are figures that do not belong to any single era. They traverse .me, watch the world evolve, and
con.nue their journey guided by a singular compass: music.
Born from a concept by Use Vinyl Records, The Return of The Vagabond – Revisited! On The New Way is a
compila.on that sets the "Vagabond" back in mo.on—an iconic symbol for those who live music as a
journey without boundaries of .me, genre, or genera.on.
His return takes shape through a curated selec.on of .meless interna.onal disco, funk, and rock classics,
reinterpreted with fresh soundscapes while remaining deeply faithful to the spirit of the originals. This
musical odyssey is helmed by Daniele Baldelli & Marco Dionigi, Marco Fra=y, (Ino)2, DJ Mauri, and
Corrado Pres@, proving that great music can transcend .me, reinvent itself, and con.nue to inspire.
More than just a compila.on, The Return of The Vagabond – Revisited! On The New Way is a sonic voyage
that rediscovers legendary tracks through a modern lens. It is a project that demonstrates how authen.c
music never belongs to the past: it evolves, changes its skin, and con.nues to resonate deeply with the
present.

A quick scan of the world’s favourite crowdsourced discography reveals that Sonic Youth co-founder Lee Ranaldo was not a total stranger to crackling electric experimentation in the years following his songwriting turns of the 20-teens. Yet »The System«, ingeniously culled and sequenced from Ranaldo’s soundtrack work for Dutch filmmaker Joris Postema’s ›eco-doc‹ of the same name, nonetheless feels like a reawakening. Quietly released in a vastly different (and much more ›filmic‹) form by Doxy Music/Riva Media Records in 2025, this LP reimagines and reconfigures the initial release, including unreleased material written and recorded for the film, to lend it new stature as both a return to drone-improv form and a reunion with introspective Downtown angst.

Given the state of the world, it’s not surprising that the film Ranaldo scores – a documentary on three climate activists bruising their fists on the black iron prison of techno-fascist deathkultur – is a study in despair and futility. But rather than wallowing in navel-gazing doom and gloom, the film documents the unstoppable spirit that has animated human resistance since the time of the Pharaohs.

As it turns out, the gorgeous scope of Lee Ranaldo’s guitar palette is a perfect manifestation of the hope and despair that animates the film. But like other high-water marks in the guitar-centric soundtrack canon – the high plains raga of Bruce Langhorne’s »Hired Hand«, Neil Young’s sparse and ghostly solo transmissions on »Dead Man«, or the monolithic mantras of Popol Vuh’s »Nosferatu« – its devotion to spectral gestures and meditative song forms launches it firmly outside of the OST orbit into a universe fully its own.

It might seem like a long journey from the Lower Manhattan rhythmic grime of the album’s opener »Tajikistan (Nice to Meet You)« (reminiscent of guitar opuses like Robert Quine and Jody Harris’s »Escape«) to the ringing cowboy chords of the final track, but the narrative logic of the LP pulls the listener along as solidly as a pack horse. As the LP unwinds, and collaborators like Jim Jarmusch, cellist Leila Boudreil, Yeah Yeah Yeahs snare shaman Brian Chase, and guitarist Yonatan Gat take their places, new vistas unfurl: the ritualistic thrum of »Berlin Blockade«, the haunted overtone palaces of »Bergelmir«, and the cavernous acoustic strumming of »Instruments of Violence«. It all winds up with the high lonesome standard »Cool Water«, each unhurried note trailing off into long-tail reverb, layers of shifting vocal harmonies pulling everything skyward – a hopeful note in an album where existential dread never lurks too deeply below the surface.

In the end, »The System« functions both as a film score and a hallucinatory (mostly) instrumental guitar record, revealing a sensibility not too often spotted in the 21st century – a liminal space where the song, the jam, and the meditation merge into a blurred whole. »The System«’s expansive fabric, emerging from a collective sound circling around Ranaldo’s signature tones, envelops and ampl amplifies the contributions of its community of creators – the perfect antidote to narcissistic despair. Much like the subjects of the film light the way towards intra-generational resistance, the music of »The System« reveals a path through gathering darkness. The world could be yours if you follow.

– Tom Carter

A quick scan of the world’s favourite crowdsourced discography reveals that Sonic Youth co-founder Lee Ranaldo was not a total stranger to crackling electric experimentation in the years following his songwriting turns of the 20-teens. Yet »The System«, ingeniously culled and sequenced from Ranaldo’s soundtrack work for Dutch filmmaker Joris Postema’s ›eco-doc‹ of the same name, nonetheless feels like a reawakening. Quietly released in a vastly different (and much more ›filmic‹) form by Doxy Music/Riva Media Records in 2025, this LP reimagines and reconfigures the initial release, including unreleased material written and recorded for the film, to lend it new stature as both a return to drone-improv form and a reunion with introspective Downtown angst.

Given the state of the world, it’s not surprising that the film Ranaldo scores – a documentary on three climate activists bruising their fists on the black iron prison of techno-fascist deathkultur – is a study in despair and futility. But rather than wallowing in navel-gazing doom and gloom, the film documents the unstoppable spirit that has animated human resistance since the time of the Pharaohs.

As it turns out, the gorgeous scope of Lee Ranaldo’s guitar palette is a perfect manifestation of the hope and despair that animates the film. But like other high-water marks in the guitar-centric soundtrack canon – the high plains raga of Bruce Langhorne’s »Hired Hand«, Neil Young’s sparse and ghostly solo transmissions on »Dead Man«, or the monolithic mantras of Popol Vuh’s »Nosferatu« – its devotion to spectral gestures and meditative song forms launches it firmly outside of the OST orbit into a universe fully its own.

It might seem like a long journey from the Lower Manhattan rhythmic grime of the album’s opener »Tajikistan (Nice to Meet You)« (reminiscent of guitar opuses like Robert Quine and Jody Harris’s »Escape«) to the ringing cowboy chords of the final track, but the narrative logic of the LP pulls the listener along as solidly as a pack horse. As the LP unwinds, and collaborators like Jim Jarmusch, cellist Leila Boudreil, Yeah Yeah Yeahs snare shaman Brian Chase, and guitarist Yonatan Gat take their places, new vistas unfurl: the ritualistic thrum of »Berlin Blockade«, the haunted overtone palaces of »Bergelmir«, and the cavernous acoustic strumming of »Instruments of Violence«. It all winds up with the high lonesome standard »Cool Water«, each unhurried note trailing off into long-tail reverb, layers of shifting vocal harmonies pulling everything skyward – a hopeful note in an album where existential dread never lurks too deeply below the surface.

In the end, »The System« functions both as a film score and a hallucinatory (mostly) instrumental guitar record, revealing a sensibility not too often spotted in the 21st century – a liminal space where the song, the jam, and the meditation merge into a blurred whole. »The System«’s expansive fabric, emerging from a collective sound circling around Ranaldo’s signature tones, envelops and ampl amplifies the contributions of its community of creators – the perfect antidote to narcissistic despair. Much like the subjects of the film light the way towards intra-generational resistance, the music of »The System« reveals a path through gathering darkness. The world could be yours if you follow.

– Tom Carter

"Cinematic Visionaries Calibro 35 and Noir Master James Ellroy Pay Homage to L.A. with a Pure Crime-Funk Original Soundtrack. Out October 9" There are collaborations that feel inevitable like they were waiting to happen in some shadowed corner of culture. The union between Italian cinematic funk visionaries Calibro 35 and internationally acclaimed master of noir fiction and New York Times bestselling author James Ellroy is undoubtedly one of them. When Calibro 35 were invited to compose the original soundtrack for Francesco Zippel's documentary Ellroy vs L.A., they didn't simply write music for film. They stepped directly into Ellroy's universe the most dangerous corners of American crime fiction and discovered, to no one's surprise, that its darkness felt strangely familiar. The result is Ellroy vs L.A., the band's new album out October 9 on Record Kicks. Twelve brand new tracks of cinematic crime funk, psychedelia, and hypnotic groove that don't accompany Ellroy's world so much as inhabit it. The soundtrack's move through Ellroy's fictional and real-world mythologies with deliberate precision. Stylistically, the album finds Calibro 35 in their most natural yet most cinematic state: crime funk, psychedelia, and hypnotic groove pushed into darker, more narrative-driven territory by the weight of Ellroy's world. From the gloomy, suspense-laden groove of the opener Black Dahlia to the evocative closing piece Moonlight Sonative, the album unfolds as a complete cinematic arc, showcasing Calibro 35 at their very best. L.A. Confidential delivers a super-suspenseful, thrilling tension that feels like a chase through neon-lit streets, while Riots erupts into explosive cinematic funk, capturing chaos and urban unrest in full force. LSD on Sunset Boulevard drifts into a hazy, instrumental soul journey psychedelic, warm, and disorienting, like a late-night hallucination of the city itself. The Big Nowhere (Part I & II) expands the narrative into a slow-burning, atmospheric descent, unfolding like a two-act crime saga. Welcome to the Land of Vacation and Probation hits with kick-ass, uptempo crime-funk madness, urgent and relentless in its propulsion, while White Jazz is a mood of suspended, noir-infused jazz tension cool, shadowy, and unresolved. Together, the tracks map Los Angeles as a fractured yet hypnotic landscape suspended between glamour and violence, beauty and decay, myth and reality Born in Milan in 2007 with the mission of excavating the golden age of Italian film music Morricone, Piccioni, Trovajoli, Calibro 35 have spent nearly two decades transforming that initial obsession into a singular artistic language. Their work bridges vintage Italian soundtracks with contemporary jazz and cinematic funk, earning them a global following rare for an Italian instrumental act. Their music has been sampled by Dr. Dre (Compton, "One Shot One Kill" feat. Snoop Dogg), Jay-Z ("Picasso Baby"), and Damon Albarn's The Child of Lov. Rolling Stone described them as "the most fascinating, retro-maniac and genuine thing that has happened to Italy in the past few years," while Far Out Magazine called them "one of the most skilful and innovative instrumental outfits on the planet right now." The band (Enrico Gabrielli, Massimo Martellotta, Fabio Rondanini, and Tommaso Colliva) continue to evolve without losing their core identity. In 2025 they released the critically acclaimed Exploration, further expanding their sonic universe, and were invited to perform at the closing ceremony of the Winter Olympic Games at the Arena di Verona, confirming their growing international stature. With Ellroy vs L.A., Calibro 35 don't just compose a soundtrack they translate a mythology into rhythm, tension, and groove. Between fiction and reality, they find a city that never truly sleeps, only pulses in darkness. Press play, and Los Angeles begins to unfold in sound.

“I thought I knew you, but you are alien to me.”

Twelve years have passed since TWINS NATALIA’s debut album, “Destiny Room”, but Dave, Marc and Steve have never really stopped working on new ideas and projects, including the release of a mini-album from Marc’s solo project SHIBUYA STATION. This featured their first collaboration with Greek artist KRIISTAL ANN (also known from PARADOX OBSCUR), who provided the vocals for the track “Madness”. This led to Anna being invited by TWINS NATALIA to perform lead vocals on their cover version of KNOW’s “Knights of Pleasure”. The results were so pleasing that, from then on, Anna was persistently ’pestered’ to work on a TWINS NATALIA EP, which slowly morphed into a complete album entitled “I Died On Mars”. The album is a journey through electronic soundscapes and pure, dark ’80s minimal synth-pop, full of melancholia, haunting melodies, elaborate synth sound design and sequencing, ranging from neat to gnarly, and, of course, KRIISTAL ANN’s charismatic voice icing the cake.

“I Died On Mars” presents us with further surprises: TWINS NATALIA version of “The Dagger In Me” by ’80s Greek post-punk legends THE HANDS OF CAIN, as well as “A Different Hum” by PARADOX OBSCUR, a song that surely needs no further introduction. Anna has not shied away from specially re-recording the vocals for this version, while both versions have been given some distinctly Twins Natalia-specific additions and treatments. Furthermore, Anna has contributed her own composition “Find Me I A Fantasy”, so you’re in for a treat or two, for sure.

Mastering by Nikolas Haldoupis at SoundCave Studios Athens.

Graphic design by Steve Lippert with some original photography by Kriistal Ann.

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.

With Lost Lost Lost, Pratt & Moody gather the defining moments of their journey and package it with fresh soul gold into one cohesive, slow- burning statement. What began as a series of cult 7” vinyl releases – often mistaken online for forgotten soul classics from another era – now finds its natural home in album form. Written and recorded with Timmion’s trusted house band Cold Diamond & Mink, the record captures the duo’s unmistakable chemistry: emotionally rich songwriting wrapped in warm, analog textures that blur past and present.
From the velvet sway of “Addictive Touch” to the cinematic tension of “You Bring Me Joy” and the beat ballad ache of “Hard Way To Live,” the album moves effortlessly between bedroom-soul intimacy and widescreen drama. “Hang Tight” opens with a blissful piano figure that nods to gospel-tinged 1970s soul before unfolding into a full-bodied groove, while “Hooked On Your Love” glows with golden-age group soul harmony sweetness. Across both sides, Pratt’s finely tuned vocals and Moody’s expressive guitar work anchor songs that feel timeless rather than nostalgic.

At its core, Lost Lost Lost is an album steeped in atmosphere – lush downtempo moments sit alongside sweet harmony-driven soul, cinematic builds dissolve into dark restrained grooves. Analog string synthesizers, vibraphone accents, tremolo guitar, and deep-pocket rhythms create emotional tension without excess. Pratt & Moody’s strength lies in their melodic instinct: songs that feel big without being pompous or losing their human quality. The result is a record that feels cohesive, immersive, and that real thing – reaffirming the duo as key architects of the contemporary lowrider soul revival.

With Lost Lost Lost, Pratt & Moody gather the defining moments of their journey and package it with fresh soul gold into one cohesive, slow- burning statement. What began as a series of cult 7” vinyl releases – often mistaken online for forgotten soul classics from another era – now finds its natural home in album form. Written and recorded with Timmion’s trusted house band Cold Diamond & Mink, the record captures the duo’s unmistakable chemistry: emotionally rich songwriting wrapped in warm, analog textures that blur past and present.
From the velvet sway of “Addictive Touch” to the cinematic tension of “You Bring Me Joy” and the beat ballad ache of “Hard Way To Live,” the album moves effortlessly between bedroom-soul intimacy and widescreen drama. “Hang Tight” opens with a blissful piano figure that nods to gospel-tinged 1970s soul before unfolding into a full-bodied groove, while “Hooked On Your Love” glows with golden-age group soul harmony sweetness. Across both sides, Pratt’s finely tuned vocals and Moody’s expressive guitar work anchor songs that feel timeless rather than nostalgic.

At its core, Lost Lost Lost is an album steeped in atmosphere – lush downtempo moments sit alongside sweet harmony-driven soul, cinematic builds dissolve into dark restrained grooves. Analog string synthesizers, vibraphone accents, tremolo guitar, and deep-pocket rhythms create emotional tension without excess. Pratt & Moody’s strength lies in their melodic instinct: songs that feel big without being pompous or losing their human quality. The result is a record that feels cohesive, immersive, and that real thing – reaffirming the duo as key architects of the contemporary lowrider soul revival.

Composer and multi-instrumentalist Koen Holtkamp has spent more than two decades shaping a body of work at the intersection of ambient, experimental, and electroacoustic music. Known for his role in the influential duo Mountains, as well as a solo catalog defined by texture and spatial awareness, Holtkamp has long explored how sound interacts with environment and perception. With Nightlife, he enters a new phase of that inquiry, one shaped as much by physical relocation as artistic evolution.

After leaving Brooklyn for the relatively rural setting of New York’s Hudson Valley, Holtkamp found himself immersed in nature and embracing a slower way of life, a shift that directly informed the album’s creation. Rather than rushing into a new project, he allowed the space itself to guide him, focusing on experimentation and play instead of a fixed outcome. Over time, a new instrument emerged from his modular system, built around physical modeling techniques that emulate plucked string sounds. Drawing on a deep affinity for acoustic traditions, from guitar soli to the kora and other chordophones, he began translating those influences into an electronic language, creating music that feels tangible, effusive, and even intimate, despite its synthetic nature. As the pieces took shape, Holtkamp expanded the project into a kind of imagined ensemble. Composed with specific collaborators in mind, the album features extensive contributions from drummer Greg Fox and saxophonist and flutist Matt Bauder, whose performances subtly reshape the material and draw it toward more fluid, song-like forms, alongside a guest appearance from Ben Vida on synth bass. Yet even as Nightlife occasionally resembles a band in motion, its construction resists traditional cohesion. Acoustic and electronic sources coexist to create a hyper-dimensional sense of space, with each element deliberately placed in its own distinct environment, yielding a complex yet inviting setting that feels both otherworldly and completely natural.

Much of the album was created during late-night sessions, which became a kind of personal ritual and ultimately inspired its title. Nightlife unfolds as a series of finely detailed environments, where stillness, texture, and subtle interplay take precedence over momentum. Each piece invites close listening while remaining open and unforced, reflecting both a change in pace and a deepening of focus. The result extends Holtkamp’s ongoing interest in how sound can shape, and be shaped by, the spaces we inhabit.

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Moulded By Industry is William D Drake's six album, his first for ten years and a return to the richly layered sonic texture and epic production of his majestic Briny Hooves. He is joined by long time collaborators James Larcombe, Dean Gaisburgh-Watkyn and Steve Jackson, with the addition of a new crew member, singer Treana Morris. Moving on from his nine years of pianistic and compositional duties in Cardiacs, Drake's solo work has been known for its synthesis of Mellotron-driven grandeur with a surreal playfulness.

But the deep heart of Drake's work is in its powerful evocation of the landscape of the countryside and its connection with love, longing and loss. To this end, his own enigmatic lyrics have rubbed shoulders with poetry drawn from across the centuries. From obscure sources such as Samuel Spree to the poetry of Thomas Hardy and Rupert Brooke, his settings make old words shimmer with human emotion. The texture of his music also reflects an inspirational lack of concern for distances of time. The earthy breath of his harmonium is interwoven with tones teased from archaic instruments by James Larcombe – hurdy-gurdy, dulcitone and melodeon.

But Drake's sound-world is no museum. Here, ancient words and the timbres of ancient instruments become one with the rush of a moment's emotion. Moulded By Industry brings this approach a new sonic depth, intoxicatingly shaded by Treana's lush vocal harmonies and underpinned by Steve's rhythm. Dean's evocative guitar textures give an oceanic sense, tinged with Americana, recalling his work with Drake in their alt country band Nervous. These many layers of sound are drawn together into vivid soundscapes by the painterly mixing of producer Ott. Renowned for his work in electronica and dub, Ott's two decades of experience working with artists such as Sinéad O'Connor, the Orb and Brian Eno bring an organic touch here, more akin to the elemental forces of land and sky than grid electricity. More than any of Drake's previous albums, Moulded By Industry reignites the emotional urgency of old texts. The gorgeous single The Flickering Shade, haunted by glimmers of lost possibilities, is set from words by Thomas Ashe. Turtledove's heady evocation of the blissful madness of love sets the words of an anonymous 17th century ballad. above all, the album is a testament to Drake's love of John Clare, 'The Northamptonshire Peasant Poet'. Clare wrote as the centuries old process of enclosure, in which wild and common land was appropriated commercially, was accelerating.

His works, rather than representing simple sentimentality, are passionate love poems to the landscape and cries from a soul reeling from the creeping unfamiliarity devouring it. This sense of the tension between passion and ill-ease has its most potent expression in Green Shadows. The brooding, slow-tempo energy of Steve's drums drive a horizon-wide lament, alternately lulled by Treana's vocal textures and made restless by James' plaintive hurdy-gurdy and the emotive pull of Dean's slide guitar. The present moment is also a time of enclosure, both metaphorically, as our lives, memories and emotions are drawn into the commercial space of social media, and literally as land and water are swallowed by vast data centre developments. Moulded By Industry celebrates a regained sense of being in the moment in the landscape, in life and in love. The album closes with the utterly delightful single Love In The Universe. The kind of song that could make a cynic use the word 'joyous' without irony, this Harry Nilsson-esque romp reassures us, with a wink, that 'in an infinite universe everything has its place ... even the human race'.

De Kloe: their name is as hard to explain as the music they channel from a total oddball universe. Rumour has it a wormhole sits hidden between the beer crates and a broken dartboard in the basement of the DPG Media building in Antwerp. Leon Jespers, Elian Van den Eynde and Midas Heuvinck stepped through and came back with De Kloe’s first full-length album.

Needless to say, De Kloe operates in the cracks - splicing obscure samples, fractured lyrics, jagged basslines, and serrated guitar riffs into something volatile and alive. Club rhythms pulse underneath, but nothing stays in place for long. Tracks mutate, structures dissolve, and both live and on record the band leans into instinct over control.

After the singles ‘Our House’ & ‘The Fish’ the trio finally presents their debut album ‘Vanity Fair’: more extravaganza tunes you didn’t know you need it, but soon will be addicted to.

A place where pop music collides with dubbed out samplemania, short sharp no wave riffs, sun-gazing psychedelica, 90’s indie sleaze, post everything vibes and endless sonic fun & happiness.

Some people would say Vanity Fair is a musical exploration of glossy machinery, the dacay of celebrity and a secret wink to John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress where
everything is on display and nothing is quite what it seems.

Other will say ‘Vanity Fair’ is a splendid record with 12 marvelous songs you just have to listen to and buy it because your life will only gets better from then on.

We believe both of them.

Credits
All songs written and produced by De Kloe
Elian Van den Eynde: guitar
Leon Jespers: electronica & keyboard
Midas Heuvinck: bass

Guest musicians
Kiara Govaert & Nina Brügger: vocals
Kiara Govaert: ocarina
Co-production and mixing by Martijn De Bondt
Recording by Simon Beeckaert
Mastering by Gert Van Hoof
Graphic design and layout cover by Leon Jespers

"Back in 2022, Ban Ban Ton Ton raved about George T’s then digital-only release, “Roll On, Kings Cross”. We described it as a “dynamite dose of poetry and digidub.” Likening the prose – which describes a train journey from the coast to the city – to Michael Smith and Joe Duggan, while comparing the production to Dennis Bovell’s remixes of Jarvis Cocker’s “Swanky Modes”, and The Sabres Of Paradise’s “Wilmot”. Melodica-led with a hefty post-punk flavour, its dub, which focuses on manipulating and morphing the bass-line, we called “hollowed out house.”

These tracks have now been pressed to vinyl for the second release on new imprint Noetic Rhythm, where they’re joined by Leonidas’ “Great Northern” mix. Eschewing his usual futuristic ethno techno jacking, here he drops into roots reggae. Creating something more skanking, more stepping. An extended “discomix” showered in filtered, Mutron Bi-phased percussion, ghostly horns and peppered with the odd syndrum pop. Washes of sampled surf appropriately accompanying George informing us that “to the left there’s the sea.”

The 12 also features, “Dr Doctor”, a fresh collaboration with Yas Mine, The singer / guitarist’s French vocals countering George’s Matt Johnson-esque delivery, and a John Barry / “Midnight Cowboy”-like melodica melody serenading the song’s slow, squelchy, electronic skanking. The dub, instead, showcasing Yas’ fine fretwork." BAN BAN TON TON review

-

"These tracks are massive! I love Roll On King's Cross the best" KAY SUZKI (Time Capsule)
"I played the dub (Dub On, King's Cross) at a club in Oslo alongside some Maurizio and it sounded great. Bit of an oddball." Also played on NTS Radio and in Mixmag mix. JONNIE WILKES // OPTIMO
"Really digging Mr Demure when he drops into dubwise" DR ROB // BAN BAN TON TON
"Yes. Nice" NICK THE RECORD
"Awesome" JONNY ROCK
"I really like this EP... Love the Leonidas dub!" CEDRIC WOO (Beauty & The Beat, LDN)
"Love the blend of Augustus P vibes with a post punk dub feel. Bingo!" DICKY TRISCO
"I love it and will be playing" TREVOR FUNG (Ibiza Legend)
"Yes this is dark but kinda friendly.... brilliant...It's like ghost town ...I love Leo's mix" FOR MANKIND (Pikes Ibiza)
"Love the release and LOVE LOVE LOVE Dr Doctor!!!! Psyched to play this one out all weekend." ZILLAS ON ACID // James Weissinger (Philadelphia, US)
"This is amazing. Dub on kings cross is a banger - really love this one" ARVEENE
"Loving the Leonidas dub" ATEMI (Blackbush Orchestra / Abstrack)
+
PREVIOUSLY
"Melodica heaven" JD TWITCH/OPTIMO (RIP)
"I love this" IVAN SMAGGHE
"It's hot!!" JONNY ROCK
+ plays/support from:
DON LETTS (BBC 6Music)
TOM RAVENSCROFT (BBC 6Music)
HARRI (Sub Club)






[f] Roll On, King's Cross [Leonidas' Great Northern Mix] 06:54
[g] Dr Doctor [Instrumental Mix] 03:25