Cerca:slow pitch

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

When a Russian missile struck the ground not far from my studio in Kyiv, I vividly remember how my body reacted to the explosion, milliseconds before my mind did. That traumatic explosion reduced my essence to a primal state. There existed nothing but dread—the kind that, in scripture, accompanies the appearance of angels announcing, ’Be not afraid’.

The visions of Abbess, composer and mystic Hildegard von Bingen were preceded by bright, excruciating flashes of light. Modern medicine reduces them to cluster migraines, one symptom of which is the retinal aura, often accompanied by blurred vision and blind spots. Hildegard’s music can place great demands on the bodies of its performers, emphasizing uncomfortable intervals and the wide distance between the lowest and highest pitch. In comparison, Gregorian chant, the liturgical standard of the time, represents a tempered attempt to grasp God intellectually; indeed, Hildegard’s music was once described as a stick of dynamite thrown into a Gregorian chant.

This album is not a historically informed performance. Hildegard’s persona and music are a starting point—a distant mirror, akin to the shield of Perseus, used to reflect Medusa. It allows us to reflect, comprehend, externalise, and transcend traumatic wartime experience, reinstating the embodied origins of Christianity, which contained suffering but also offered the promise of transcendence. Andriana-Yaroslava Saienko emphasises this physical aspect of Hildegard’s music by drawing on authentic Ukrainian folk singing, a form that survived despite efforts by the Soviet occupation to replace it with a simulacrum that is naive, harmless, and devoid of contradictions—an attempt to ‘civilise’ the body by disembodying it.
The musical approach is also informed by my ongoing practice of reimagining early music in modular synthesis. I accompany Andriana-Yaroslava’s fiery singing with drones—extended sounds that also occurred in medieval music. The drones alternate with improvisations, one taking its starting point in medieval polyphony, the other working with the concept of the interchangeability of sound and light, referring both to Hildegard’s visions and the space in which we recorded the album: the Cistercian abbey of Sylvanès in Occitania, known for contemporary stained glass windows whose patterns reference the dispersion of acoustic waves inside the church.


The album features two compositions by Hildegard von Bingen: O Ignis Spiritus Paracliti (O Fire of the Spirit and Defender), dedicated to the Holy Spirit, and O Tu Suavissima Virga (O Sweetest Branch), in honour of the Virgin Mary. Both pieces are performed radically slower than usual, expanding in time and space. On vinyl, the compositions are designed to reflect one another and can be listened to in either order. In the digital edition, there is a bonus track titled Zelenaia Dubrovonka (The Green Oak Grove). Based on a Ukrainian folk song from the Polissia region, Andriana Yaroslava adapted the lyrics to reflect our contemporary reality. The green oak grove does not rustle with the wind; instead, it resonates with a different sound—perhaps the missile that struck near my Kyiv studio.

XKatedral Anthology Series II (An Anthology Of Slowly Evolving Timbral Music), featuring exclusive music from Kali Malone, Jessica Ekomane, Mats Erlandsson, Theodor Kentros, Wilma Hultén, and Maria W Horn.

"XKatedral Anthology II is the second instalment in a series of archival releases dedicated to presenting music by composers affiliated with XKatedral working within the realm of slowly evolving harmonic and timbral music. This double-vinyl set contains an array of pieces dating from 2018 - 2020. This collection of pieces focuses on the use of synthetic sound and algorithmic composition languages as tools for precise work within the realm of spectral exploration. In addition to this, the electronic instrumentation in many of the pieces is augmented by acoustic instruments.

The first piece on side A is Kali Malone’s Music for Low Quartet. This piece is an adaptation of the composition “Rose Wreath Crown” originally released on The Sacrificial Code in 2019. In this iteration, the music is scored for two double basses played by Vilhelm Bromander and Zach Rowden, and sine tone electronics performed by Malone herself. The recording of this piece was made at EMS in 2019.

Closing side A is Jessica Ekomane’s ‘First Light’. This computer music piece focuses exclusively on digital sound, layering razor sharp synthetic textures into an otherworldly dynamic weave. The music heard here is a reworked version of a piece originally commissioned by Semibreve in 2020.

Side B contains the work ‘Hands Melt In The Sun’ by Mats Erlandsson. This composition is built from electronically processed tuned zithers and synthetically generated tones arranged in a series of chordal inversions over a sustained fundamental tone. This music, written as a love-letter to the localized drone tradition of Stockholm in the years 2008-2012, was composed and recorded in seven days while in residence at Ställbergs Gruva in Bergslagen, in the summer of 2018.

Opening the second half of the collection is Rough Draft v.7 by Theodor Kentros. Kentros’ compositional practice usually combines acoustic and electronic source material and in this piece he molds the sound of the Buchla 200 and a collection of recorded wind instruments into a molten mass of sound. In its original form, this music was presented as a multichannel immersive work and even in the current stereo configuration it retains some of that enveloping sense of depth.

The second piece on side B, Inertia, is by Wilma Hultén, who makes her debut on record here. An exclusively synthetic piece, Inertia utilizes internal digital feedback in a sealed synthetic system to manifest a harmonic field that swells and abates throughout the length of the piece, interspersed by small gestural elements.

Closing Anthology II is Maria W Horn's work ‘Dies Irae’ for female vocal quartet, pitched glass and synthesis. ‘Dies Irae’ uses a modified form of traditional tonal harmonic language to invoke an uncanny and restless middle ground between the classical western polyphonic vocal tradition and contemporary electronic music. The version heard here is a live recording from Eric Ericssonhallen in Stockholm on May 30th 2020. Performing the piece here are the vocalists Katarina Henryson, Lisa Holmgren, Vilma Ogenblad and Paula Wegmann, as well as Maria herself on glass and electronics."

In Sheep’s Clothing announces the long-awaited vinyl pressing of Marc Leclair’s beloved 2005 album Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes. The album will also be available on streaming for the first time via Community Music Group.

For years after Marc Leclair released Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes, he heard from listeners who had lived with the record in an unusually intimate way. Many described how the music became part of the emotional landscape of the months leading to birth. “I never expected that,” Leclair says. “Many women told me they listened to the record throughout their pregnancies. They said it made a real difference, that it helped them. It became more than just a record.”

First issued on CD in the early 2000s, Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes (Music for Three Pregnant Women) now returns in a new edition from In Sheep’s Clothing Hi-Fi, appearing on vinyl for the first time as a double LP. The record is being pressed in Detroit at Archer Record Pressing, the historic plant behind deep-groove classics by Juan Atkins, Kevin Saunderson, Underground Resistance, UR’s Jeff Mills, and J Dilla.

Listeners who know the Montreal-based Leclair through his better-known work as Akufen might be surprised by the tone here. During the same years he was shaping the intricate micro-sampling tracks that made Akufen a cult figure on labels including Perlon, Force Inc. and Trapez, Leclair was quietly developing this far more personal project. The meticulous craftsmanship remained the same, though the focus shifted from the hyper-detailed cut-up rhythms of his dance records toward something slower and more atmospheric. “I always compare my work to a jeweler,” Leclair says. “It’s really very precise. I’m a bit of a detail freak. I can spend hours or days on just one phrase in one song. Everything has to be perfectly put together.”

The project began almost accidentally. A few members of Leclair’s circle became pregnant nearly simultaneously, including one who had long believed she couldn’t conceive. The first track he recorded for the project wasn’t meant to advance a larger concept, he says. “It was meant to highlight the fact that three of my closest friends became pregnant at exactly the same time.”

Leclair was already a father with a three-year-old daughter, so the emotional terrain of early parenthood was familiar. Gradually the idea expanded. “I began thinking, why not make a whole album that celebrates this and also follows the entire pregnancy, the nine months,” he says. The music developed piece by piece, including a track originally commissioned by the Berlin experimental duo Rechenzentrum that would later become the album’s opening movement.

Nearly seven years passed between the first composition and the finished album, and the music mirrors the strange arithmetic of pregnancy itself. What begins as a single idea multiplies outward, sounds layering and branching until the album feels less like a sequence of compositions than a living process unfolding in time. “I work very slowly,” Leclair says. “Everything has to be something I’m completely behind. I never want to rush anything. I want things to come naturally.” Across its 72 minutes, the album blossoms with the patience of a long meditation on time, growth and emergence.

When Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes first appeared via Mutek, it circulated quietly but steadily. Critics who discovered it later recognized its unusual scope. In a 2006 Pitchfork review, Mark Richardson gave the record an 8.1, calling “150e Jour” “an unfailingly gorgeous and tightly sequenced quilt of guitar and piano samples reminiscent of Tangerine Dream,” and describing “85e Jour” as infused with “viscous pop ambient drift, the gauzy synth pads ebbing and flowing with rhythm.” Boomkat described the album as “a majestic opus from a producer that's always promised so much — here delving into a panoramic construction of almost visibly radiant music that works so beautifully through each and every second of its 72 minute lifespan.”

The new In Sheep’s Clothing Hi-Fi edition finally presents the record in the format Leclair long imagined. “I always thought that record deserved a vinyl edition,” he says. Spread across two LPs, the music now has room to unfold at its natural pace. More than twenty years after it first appeared, Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes remains what it was from the start: a carefully shaped meditation on transformation and the quiet miracle of life beginning.

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process. Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever. The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before. ‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract. There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.

Spider Taylor crawls over to Dark Entries with Surge Studio Music, an album of archival gay pornographic soundtracks. James Allan Taylor was born into a working-class family in Los Angeles in 1951. Nicknamed “Spider” by his father due to his frantic energy, Taylor was a natural-born guitarist, gifted with perfect pitch and a voracious musical appetite.

Throughout the 70s, he expanded his musical repertoire, playing in bands ranging from country to post-punk, like his outfit Red Wedding, while always looking for new sounds and styles to explore. During this period, Taylor also partnered with his soulmate and musical collaborator, Michael Ely. They were part of a wave of bold, young, gay couples living openly together in the years immediately following the Stonewall Riots. In the early 80s, while working at the West Hollywood gay sex club Basic Plumbing, Taylor met Al Parker, the legendary pornographic actor and director, who recruited Taylor to produce the soundtrack for a film he was working on. Parker’s partnership with Steve Scott running Surge Studios produced some of the most popular all-male films of the era. Spider’s music was a natural fit for Surge, and throughout 1985 and 1986, he composed the soundtracks for five films produced by the iconic studio. Assisted by engineer Steve Conrad and armed with a drum machine and some synths, Spider’s compositions for film veer from the expansive, reverb-drenched “Rainforest” to the Miami Vice-esque chugger “Tech.”

While Spider thought of this work as little more than a gig, tangential to his real craft, enthusiasts of VHS-era nostalgia and vintage erotica will be brought to bliss. Surge Studio Music will be available on both LP and CD, the latter of which includes a 20-minute version of “Strange Places…Strange Things!” as a bonus track. The album’s cover art was designed by Gwenael Rattke, and features stylish images from Surge Studios releases. Also included is an insert featuring liner notes by Will Lewis, a longtime friend of Spider. The music is released from Spider’s estate by Michael Ely, Spider’s partner of 43 years. The shadow of AIDS lingered over Surge; Steve Scott passed from AIDS-related illness in 1987, and Al Parker succumbed in 1992. In 2014, when it became legal for same-sex couples to marry in Arizona, Spider and Michael finally became wedded. Spider would pass away from liver cancer six months later.

Default Mode by Raleigh & Takenaga continues the newly established X series – Harmony’s platform for new voices and limitless exploration. Hailing from Prague, the duo embodies the next wave of adventurous sound design and musical talent from the imprint’s home town.

Incentive Program opens the EP’s A side with a drifting, trance-tinged flow wrapped in sweeping pitch movements and fractured vocals. The track sets a shadowy, almost sinister atmosphere, pulling all witnesses into its slow-burn gravity. It’s a steady build, tipping the floor over the edge. Stiff Envelope pulls you into its depths as it continues to build tension with resonating synth hits that quiver over a powerful trance foundation. With a few moments of silence that let its unsettling atmosphere settle across the stereo field before swinging back in at full force, this one is tailor-made for big systems.

B side’s Ground Floor carries on with metallic swells and shimmers that ring underneath the surface as the tension built on the A side bursts, settling into a grounding four-on-the-floor moment and leaving just enough time to breathe before Raleigh stirs up a concoction of devious vocals, snappy percussion, and a seductive bassline that lifts the mood tastefully. Takenaga wraps up the record with Head Count, a razor-sharp blend of crisp percussive cuts and stuttered crumbles that are seeking the perfect pitch all the way, climbing up and down. Heads are counted on a lively groove that radiates playful momentum and commands the dance floor to get in formation, keeping a tight rhythmic focus. Infused with the pulse of UK club culture, this track delivers a fresh and forward-thinking sound perfect for adventurous turntables.

When Leng Records founders Paul ‘Mudd’ Murphy and Simon Purnell marked the imprint’s 10th birthday, they did so via a celebratory compilation that mixed classic catalogue cuts, remixes and exclusives. Five years on, and with the label’s 15th birthday upon us, they’ve decided to look to the future via a compilation made up entirely of fresh productions from Leng’s roster of current and new artists. Presented on limited-edition gatefold double vinyl with a bonus 10” single, the collection offers an updated showcase of Leng’s much-loved trademark sound, a distinctive fusion of mid-tempo sleazy-disco, Balearica and chugging house interspersed with elements of electronic psychedelia and synth-powered space disco. Fittingly for a compilation that wholeheartedly looks to the future, you’ll find first contributions from a handful of label newcomers.

Fast-rising duo Flying Mojito Bros give their spin on ‘Smoke Signals’ by label debutants Joe HarveyWhyte and Bobby Lee, turning in a heady and inspired revision that sits somewhere between dusk-ready cosmic disco and flash-fried desert blues. There’s also an appearance from Swedish producer Bo Wosticz with the dreamy and ultra-deep nu-jazz of ‘Bs As’. Naturally, you’ll also find plenty of heat from those who have already proved their mettle through prior releases on Leng. Danish duo Liminal, who made their debut earlier this year with the much-played ‘Keep Coming Back To Me’, open proceedings with the tactile, slow-disco flex of ‘Tzatziki Bay’ where sweet synth melodies and a heady electric piano riff ride a warming groove.

Roberto Intrallazzi and Dario Piana from Italy’s original Afro-cosmic movement return with ‘Plutos’, a typically deep dubbed-out cosmic chugger. Then there’s Rose Robinson AKA Tigerbalm, whose ‘Mexicana’ featuring singer Joi N’Juno is presented across the package in two different forms. Pete Herbert, who contributed to some of the earliest Leng releases, drops a driving dub disco take on the main compilation, while Robinson’s original mix – a more organic, percussive and horn-heavy affair blessed with plenty of hallucinatory intent – opens the bonus 10”.

There’s a welcome return to Leng for the brilliant Payfone, whose ‘Dime Algo’ is a typically classy, analogue-rich affair in which attractive Rhodes riffs, atmospheric female vocals and pitched-down house pianos rise above shuffling drum machine beats and a slow-motion bassline. Long-serving label contributor Lex (Athens) delivers the loose-limbed nu-disco breeze of ‘Stolen Dance’, while the imprint’s San Francisco connection – the ever-brilliant 40 Thieves collective – drop the dubbed-out Bay Area brilliance of ‘Such A Great Trip’.

Then there are the contributions of the label’s most storied artist, Andrew Meecham AKA Emperor Machine with ‘Eumig’, a deliciously slow, synth-rich chugger full of colourful chords, bubbly electronic melodies and jaunty electronic bass. Then, to round off the bonus 10” single, Meecham joins forces with Paul Murphy (as Mudd) on ‘Road To Nikko’, an extended, Japanese musical culture-influenced slab of pitched-down alien-funk packed to the rafters with squelchy synth sounds, effects-laden percussion, chiming melodies and rubbery bass guitar.

For our next physical release, FERMA welcomes back home one of the individuals running the project, Romphea. As a co-founder, he has long shaped the label’s uncompromising DIY ethos—placing experimentation, raw energy, and community at the heart of its vision. After releasing in a series of acclaimed platforms, the forward-thinking DJ and producer from Vyronas, Athens returns to vinyl with a genre-defying release. Building on the experimental pulse and reshaping the edge between electro, breaks and techno, Romphea continues that trajectory, weaving together tense polyrhythms, warped melodic fragments, and cavernous spaces.

This release features four, plus three digital bonus original tracks, aiming to provide a clear sound identity for the artist. The A-side opens with “Calls from Salem”, a dystopian slow burner that sets the tone with broken-beat percussion and dissonant synth stabs. “Steel Chair” surges forward with unrelenting force, propelled by serrated arpeggios and a barrage of fragmented vocals that rise and fall within the space, crafted for peak-time eruption.

Flipping to the B-side, “Paid Dividends” reaches full intensity, layering hammering kicks and percussion, while the low end rumbles with tectonic weight, amplifying the energy to fever pitch. Closing the record on a more contemplative note, “We Are The Universe” slows the pace, easing the tension and drifting into deeper territory. Echoing chords drift into space, layered with fragile percussive details and low, throbbing pulses. It’s a meditation on collapse and renewal, offering a moment of breath after the storm.

Straight from the source, defying the norms, devoted to the art. Do not sleep.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Melopea, presenting two new pieces highlighting the incredible voice of Amelia Cuni (1958-2024), the great Italian singer, based in Berlin in later life, whose mastery of the classical Indian dhrupad developed in parallel with a commitment to contemporary experimental approaches. After two stunning archival releases documenting traditional dhrupad performances in India in the 1990s (BT079 and BT092), the two side-long pieces here embody the freedom with which Cuni explored new contexts and settings for her singing.

Both make use of a long recording of Cuni singing the pentatonic Raag Bhoop (or Bhopali) made in 2012 by her partner Werner Durand in Berlin. ‘Melopea’ began from Cuni and Durand’s superimposition of this recording with violinist Silvia Tarozzi and cellist Deborah Walker’s performance of Éliane Radigue’s ‘Occam River II’. Inspired by the beauty of this chance encounter (and other experiments with non-synchronous collaboration during the pandemic years), Tarozzi and Walker recorded independently, without hearing Cuni’s voice but ‘having her present in memory’. Tarozzi and Walker’s bowed strings places Cuni’s magisterial performance in a new context, emphasising, as Radigue commented upon hearing the initial layering of her piece with Cuni’s voice, a shared ‘searching toward the partials, overtones, these natural constituents of acoustical sounds in their richness’. Beginning with whispered bowed harmonics, the violin and cello swap the stability of dhrupad’s traditional tanpura drone for a slowly evolving, uneasy web of harmonic interactions recalling some of Harley Gaber’s work, sometimes sitting on dissonances for long periods or allowing changing interference patterns to come to the fore. Primarily focusing on her lower register, Cuni’s performance demonstrates her mastery of microtonal pitch subtleties, elegant sweeping glissandi and meditatively unhurried pacing.

The continuation of the same recording by Cuni forms the foundation of ‘Bhoop-Murchana’, with Anthea Caddy on cello and Werner Durand on soprano saxophone. In contrast to the randomised layering of the first piece, here Durand and Caddy have carefully selected pitches based on the raag Cuni sings, using the ‘Murchana’ form, which uses the constituent notes of the raag as tonics of new raags, retaining the same interval structure. Both players who have developed tones of striking depth and harmonic purity on their instruments, Caddy and Durand’s patient long tones are simultaneously rigorously grounded in the physical properties of sound and possessed of an immaterial, floating quality. Combined with Cuni’s voice and, near the piece’s end, her contributions on hammered and plucked tanpura, the effect borders on miraculous. To surrender to this music is like slipping into an onsen pool, feeling the instantaneous release of every tension. Accompanied by liner notes from Durand, Tarozzi and Walker, Melopea is both a moving tribute to the profound art of Amelia Cuni and, for the uninitiated, a perfect introduction to it.

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce Spilla, the second album from Nantes-based Ensemble Nist-Nah, 48 minutes of music for Gamelan, drum kits, wood and metal percussion instruments, and plucked strings that will surely count as one of the most electrifying records you hear this year. Founded by the Australian drummer/percussionist Will Guthrie in 2019, continuing the explorations begun in solo form on Nist-Nah (Black Truffle, 2020), the ensemble (eight or nine core members with occasional guests) has been consistently active in the half-decade since: composing, rehearsing, recording and touring Europe (with a mass of equipment in tow) to great acclaim. Spilla tracks the continuing evolution of the project since the recording of their first album, Elders (Black Truffle, 2022). The two sides of this record document two different iterations of the group, and the members' compositional input has increased: each side contains one piece by a member other than Guthrie. It has become clearer than ever that Ensemble Nist-Nah is not an attempt at a European Gamelan ensemble but rather a hybrid percussion ensemble that uses instruments from a Javanese Gamelan alongside other percussion to perform original music informed by a variety of South East Asian music but also by everything from free jazz to contemporary hip-hop: while Nist-Nah and Elders both featured traditional Javanese pieces, on Spilla the only tune not generated by a member of the group is by Guthrie’s long-time musical hero and occasional collaborator Roscoe Mitchell.

The two short pieces that open the record could almost be the two sides of a wild 7” selected to show off what the Ensemble can do. On opener ‘Gerak Maju’, intricately skittering open-snare patterns bounce over clanging metal, chiming bell-like tones and deep gong hits, adapting the rhythm-register connections heard in traditional Gamelan musics—where the lowest pitched sounds are heard least frequently—to a cut-up breakbeat straight off Feed Me Weird Things. ‘Strollabout’ then moves into an entirely different realm of meditative repeating patterns, performed entirely on Chinese, Javanese and Vietnamese gongs. The remaining seven pieces, ranging from three to twelve minutes, offer up a wealth of different percussive, compositional and arrangement possibilities. On ‘Ghostly Klang’, two drumkits mirror each other’s moves, bouncing hats and snares across the stereo field in a way that recalls On the Corner and the jittering hi hat patterns of trap, while slow moving melodies on the tuned instruments add a sense of majesty contrasted by scurrying details in resonant wood. The epic closing track presents a take on Roscoe Mitchell’s ‘Uncle’, performed by the Art Ensemble of Chicago on their classic Urban Bushmen live album. Where the Art Ensemble used Mitchell’s dirge-like melody as a jumping off point for virtuosic improvisational flights, Ensemble Nist-Nah rethink the piece as a near-static dialogue between the monumental, slow-moving sequence of unison tuned percussion notes and a textural cloud that grows in richness and intensity from whispering cymbal rolls into a mass of gong overtones and bowed metal.

Beautifully recorded and mixed, Spilla arrives in a sleeve decorated with core member Charles Dubois’ drawings of cymbals and gongs. Against the backdrop of a wider musical landscape dominated by over-produced electronic slop and bland harmonic wallpaper, Ensemble Nist-Nah stands out as a reminder, vital and unpretentious, of the joys and possibilities of human beings playing instruments together.

There’s a particular magic that happens when seasoned producers with global roots come together under a shared ethos - not for hype, but for connection. That’s precisely what MISINGO represents. A cross-continental studio experiment born out of Covid-era isolation, the group spans hemispheres and histories: Yorkshire's Doorly, L.A. legend Gary Richards (aka Destructo), and Australian duo Colour Castle. Their debut offering, Give You Love, lands via UK House Music institution Hard Times Records, and it’s as emotionally resonant as it is built for the floor.

Anchored by a slow-burning acid line and moody, immersive synthwork, 'Give You Love' carries the DNA of classic house without feeling like pastiche. DJ Rae’s smokey vocal, recorded in Doorly’s Ibiza studio, sets the tone - raw, intimate, immediate. Gene Farris enters with a gravelly, magnetic counterpoint, flipping the call-and-response into something spiritual. It’s a record that feels both new and deeply lived-in, a jam session from afar that somehow lands with unity and purpose.

For the remix suite, Hard Times dig into family ties and deliver a heavyweight lineup that spans generations of dance music lineage.

First up, DJ Pierre, the Phuture pioneer himself, brings a Wild Pitch revision that is pure summer sleaze and shimmer. Glistening keys, kinetic snares, and a syrup-thick bassline collide in a mix that’s tailor-made for golden-hour sets and open-air systems.

DJ Romain brings that New York swing. All velvet chords, stabbing pianos, and organ swells that spiral skyward. It’s gospel-house energy that doesn’t need to shout to be heard, a reminder that soul still moves the dancefloor.

Closing out the package is Charles Lavine of Soul Clap fame, whose Boston-bred funk sensibility steers things into new territory. He strips back the mix, lets Rae’s vocal ride the groove, and injects a subtle bounce that turns heads and hips in equal measure.

With 'Give You Love', MISINGO and Hard Times haven’t just released a single, they’ve bottled a moment: one born of distance, stitched together with soul, and destined for collective release on dancefloors worldwide.

A1 - Tidal Realm

Opening with the kind of finely-honed, sumptuous ambience we know and love Aural Imbalance for, Tidal Realm slowly reveals its welcoming arc with filtered breakbeats and a captivating off-beat string melody before analogue amen breaks are expertly chopped and sliced at will for our listening pleasure. Further melodic charm is added as the soothing ambient backdrops rise like a calming mist, blanketing the scene in style.

A2 - Tears Of An Angel

Subdued breaks sleepily laze during the intro to Tears Of An Angel, gently roused to movement by a sombre backdrop of delicate pads and high pitched ambient textures. Once in full swing, the old-school breakbeats nestle perfectly over a deep, earthy 808 bassline while the atmosphere develops continually through a melodic, ethereal landscape crafted with a trademark understated panache.

B1 - Surface Area

Readying for the unexpected, a suitably eerie ambient intro to Surface Area sees Aural Imbalance flex his versatility once more as a stunningly crafted break pattern suddenly takes center stage and immediately whisks the listener on a journey to lands afar. Micro melodies and inimitable pads add depth but make no mistake - these breaks are sublime, and will inspire both the listener and the dancefloor in equal measure.

B2 - Warm Embrace

Closing out the EP we have Warm Embrace, which opens with the sounds of playful fireflies in the twilight, emitting their soft glow through the washes of inexplicably radiant FX. Old school breaks soon enter the mix, constructed with aplomb over a bed of deep, classic 808 bass perfect for the occasion. The breakdown introduces a deliciously delicate melody, adding further depth to the track perfectly before the breaks and nightlife resume their frolics.

Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

2025 Repress

Running Back’s Double Copy subsidiary for house music history returns with four musical masterpieces from Chicago, London and an international cast from Italy on its first various artist sampler.
Originally released on Roy Davis Jr.’s Undaground Therapy outlet, Destination Heaven by the enigmatic Earth Boys project delivers a piece of cloud-nine-deep-house that was a staple at Frankfurt’s Wild Pitch Club and during the early days of its successor Robert Johnson. Produced by Cloudy Eyes and Cole Brooks, we unfortunately have never heard from the duo again. Luckily, Family of Few have been a little bit more productive. Also known as Mind Readers, Kevin Elliot and Billy ‚Jack“ Williams produced some of the more tender moments on Detroits 430 West label. Intervoles is amongst the most peculiar and catchy tracks that slow-burning dance floors can hope for.
The flip side turns the attention to the conclusions that Europe drew from its US-role-models. Released in 1992 on Rena Records with the involvement of New York’s JoVonn (a distinct genius of deep grooves himself), the keyboard skills of Pierre Audetat and the production work of I. Betti, M. Clemente and W. Brown, Dummy Head is one of a kind. Swirly echoes, dubby textures and a heavy bass line mate on the Edit Mix of I Have Been Wanting You to create one of the very first examples of fully formed dub-house.
Similar pioneering properties can be ascribed to the work of Rob Mello. We don’t have enough room here to list all his merits, but rest assured that the UK’s house scene wouldn’t be the same without him (Luxury Service Records, Classic et al). Under the Karim guise, Mello delivered a unique stroke of genius. Distilling the essence of deep house, while looking far into the future, In My Mind is many things at once: broken beat, electro, house with embracing chords, and – if you will – a warm-up banger. and does, what all the tracks in here do: turning heads then, turning heads now. Hardcore Deep House!

Phonomena are back and this time joined by Haste on a mission to Andromeda with 4 Hardcore Jungle tracks ready to do damage on the dancefloor.
Kicking off with a remix of Paul Renegade’s Multiverse from London based Jungle veteran Haste that has been floating around on dub for a little while. Taking the tempo of the original up a notch this is the perfect track to start the EP with its Mentasm fuelled mayhem.

Rage and Renegade then drop their first track on wax together with Best Served Cold, taking a sample from a 92 classic then twisting it up with some distorted bass before switching things up as the track progresses. This was made over a bunch of Saturday nights late in 2024 and continues the vibes from the first two records.

At the end of side A there’s some scratch samples for DJs to battle with, pitched to the perfect tempo to use with Hardcore and Jungle.
First up on the flip DJ Rage drops a bass heavy breakbeat workout with Ready To Roll. This was made to contrast with Haste’s remix, a bit more laid back at first but slowly building up to a euphoric tear out towards the end.

Paul Renegade closes out the EP with Dark Carnival, a trip to the underworld with haunted samples and effects that drops into some full on bass, no letting up here with more Hardcore pressure to rattle your speakers!
Coming on ice blue translucent vinyl with hand stamped labels, these Kniteforce exclusive versions come with in an Ice Blue (single colour) label or Electric (double colour). These special editions are limited to 30 copies each.

Drumsauw returns to DCLTD for the second time this year with 4 new tracks off his new EP 'Empire.' The title track 'Empire' is a thrumming blend of high speed percussion keeps up techno pressure, counterpointed by a soulful female vocal intoning with Middle Eastern sounds giving a melodic element. Followed by 'Cycles,' a demanding percussion like hammer blows races along, while spacey horns with doppler FX and dark, plangent synth tremolo arps bring an otherworldly, sinister vibe in a huge breakdown/drop. Next comes 'Collision,' rampant, bounding beats, loud rattling backbeat, with a robotic spoken female vocal riff changing pace, slowing in breakdowns before the racing tempo reasserts itself. And lastly 'Comet' that has the fast layered percussion, interspersed with pizzicato melody, varies pitch, becoming frantic, distorted, in the breakdowns. The vocal riff running through adds to the drama; nervy, hyper, disturbing.

Parsley Sounds was the glorious debut album for Mo Wax by Parsley Sound. The album was one of the iconic label’s final releases before it closed in 2003 and locating a clean copy has been extremely tricky of late, unless you're flush enough to drop 150 notes on it. Mercifully, the Be With reissue, put together with invaluable assistance from the group, should remedy this situation. It's a lo-fi, bass-heavy, blunted beat treat, warped with heat haze and dreamy soft-psych and has been criminally under-heard for far too long.

As with most cult-like records, Parsley Sounds has many influential fans, far and wide. From Four Tet and Caribou to NTS's modern day breakfast hero Flo Dill, its reputation has only grown in stature. At the time, the notoriously hard-to-please Pitchfork garlanded it with a scarcely achievable 8.8 whilst, just recently, the Numero Group's Rob Sevier described it as a "visionary bit of proto-Salvia Palth (or Steve Lacy)" via a Ghostly International missive.

Parsley Sound comprised super-talented duo Preston Mead and Dan Sargassa. They released an early single (the perfect "Twilight Mushrooms", featured here) on Warp Records as Slum, before signing to Mo Wax. Hidden behind a wall of sound - fuzzy layers of beats, bleeps and symphonic synths - they were convinced they made mainstream pop music. And, in many respects, Parsley Sounds really is a beautiful pop album. It overflows with memorable, gorgeous melodies and inspired songcraft. As the contemporaneous Pitchfork review correctly had it: "Parsley Sounds is one of those rare records that manage to sound modest while frequently pushing the sonic envelope."

Killer opener "Ease Yourself And Glide" is a thing of aching, soft-psych, wonky beat-beauty. A melodic masterpiece, part Crosby, Stills & Nash, part proto-Koushik, it presents a melancholy falsetto, surging bass and blunted lead guitar. As it climaxes, gorgeous strings are ushered in to see us out. Sublime. "Twilight Mushrooms" is up next and it's an acid-drenched, strung-out acoustic-led campfire wonder. Amid layers of tape-hiss and beautiful, sun-dappled strings, its understated vocal track provides a haze of wistful innocence.

The breezy "Spring's Near" is a krautrock-inspired chiming instrumental of heavenly excellence, its warm, skipping, motorik groove and dreamy synths completely infectious. Another total highlight, the technicolour "Yo Yo" initially presents itself as a more abstract, bleepy offering but as it organically swells into ever more beautiful places, with the addition of a choppy insistent drum loop, flute bursts, horns and sweeping strings, it puts one in mind of early Manitoba and Four Tet releases. Shimmering, blissed-out greatness.

The celestial harmonies and glistening harps of the wonderfully beatless, serenely sullen "Ocean House" are very much in conversation with late-60s meditative psych whilst, closing out Side A, the jaw-dropping, lushly experimental effort "Find The Heat" comes on like Arthur Russell meets Brian Wilson. Yep, *that* good.

Side B opens with the warped, bleepy "Stevie", a brief but beautifully wonky, soulful and intricate instrumental. The more upfront vocals that propel the fuzzy "Platonic Rate" have a refreshing swagger to them, the heavy bass and neck-snapping in-the-red beats too much for any system to deal with whilst the guitars and strings have a sweeping, cinematic feel which just beguiles. The slow, urbane soul of "Candlemice" will stop you in your tracks, no matter what you're doing. It carries a delicate sadness, as does much of the album in that classic "down lifting" style we so love here at Be With.

The fuzzing, buzzing "Templechurchmansions" is a searing, soulful dubwise detonation. Heavily stoned with slow-burning jazzy snatches and a tense, moody atmosphere, it's a Tricky-adjacent gem. The album rounds out brilliantly with the ominous instrumental "Neon Breeze" before giving way to the propulsive, almost incongruous punk-funk / disco-dub of secret "untitled" track "Caution", a scratchy, smacked-out groove-fuelled workout with a female vocal dripping with 'tude. Just sensational.

Under the watchful eye - and attentive ears! - of Parsley Sound themselves, the audio for Parsley Sounds has been carefully mastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, with a few much needed tweaks here and there, according to the artist's wishes. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at the always stellar Record Industry in Holland.

Preston and Dan always thought the colours on the first vinyl pressing looked a bit "washed out" vis-a-vis the original artwork which was way more vibrant. We feel we've got it popping back to the original intention with the restoration work here at Be With HQ. So with the audio and artwork now approaching completeness after 20 years, this long overdue re-issue could be considered its definitive vinyl release.