Search:so what music

It is 1983 and you've just stepped into your Ford Capri with your girlfriend Julie. You live in Harlow, but in your head you're really somewhere near Salou in Spain, next to your yacht. But the thing you really love is soul and they play nothing but at Sups in Loughton. OK, so It's not 1983 at all. It's 2014, but listening to this electrofied soul, will put you back in the zone. Tom Findlay, one half of Grammy-nominated Groove Armada, has put this collection together: a stamp of authenticity in itself. Tom has also put a few of these through the edit wringer, reworking many of the tunes for maximum towelling sockability.

You'll probably recognise a few tunes. There's Mtume's incredible 'Juicy Fruit', still sounding advanced and modern, while 'I Specialize In Love, mixed by disco legend Tee Scott, is even older yet sounds equally perky.

The 1980s was a period that was pretty much owned by Minneapolis thanks to Prince and former cohorts Jam & Lewis and the latter weigh in with a pair of killer productions, Thelma Houston's 'You Used To Hold Me So Tight' and Alexander O'Neal's 'What's Missing'. And since this is Late Night Tales, there is always our exclusive cover version, this time done by Findlay and Tim Hutton's Sugardaddy, who've delivered an ace version of 'Don't Look Any Further'.

Grab yourself a bar stool, order a cocktail, take a sip and make believe you're lying on a shagpile carpet with the soul star of your dreams.

Bill Brewster

Automatic Soul, like my previously compiled Late Night Tales Music For Pleasure, is based very much on a sound. It's a sound that I feel has been overlooked: 80s R&B-infused music, with drum machines, synths and invariably brilliant vocals. It's formed the bedrock of my rare groove sets for all the years I've played. It's not the most fashionable, but to me it's the perfect marriage of technology and soul, hence the title for this album, Automatic Soul. There are plenty of songs I could have included, and no doubt some that I shouldn't, but I've tried to represent what's best to me from this era. It's not a classic Late Night Tales. It's a pretty personal journey, which I hope some of you might be willing to share... Tom Findlay Groove Armada September 2014.

Eno Williams, frontwoman of Ibibio Sound Machine, uses both English and the Nigerian language from which her band's name is derived for the dazzling new album Doko Mien. Long lauded for jubilant, explosive live shows, Ibibio Sound Machine fully capture that energy on Doko Mien, the followup to their Merge debut Uyai.
In a glowing piece in the New York Times, those songs were praised for following 'in the tradition of much African music, [making] themselves the conscience of a community.' By pulsing the mystic shapes of Williams' lines through further inventive, glittering collages of genre, Ibibio Sound Machine crack apart the horizon separating cultures, between nature and technology, between joy and pain, between tradition and future. That propensity for duality and paradox seems common in people whose lives span continents.

Williams was born in the UK, but grew up in Nigeria, always steeped in her family heritage. She obsessed over West African electronic music, highlife, and the like, but was equally empowered by Western genres such as post-punk, disco, and funk. The London octet have enveloped themselves in that maximalist quilt proudly since their 2013 formation. Though it can often bring with it news of stress and uncertainty, the modern world further brings all these disparate traditions into connection.
'Everyone has everything now,' says multi-instrumentalist Max Grunhard. 'Everyone has immediate access to every genre, picking things up from everywhere—like magpies.' And while they haven't suddenly left their African roots behind, Doko Mien does find increased representation of English lyrics in the ratio. By sharing more directly with more universal lyrics, the record feels more anthemic, reaching for grander heights.
'We wanted to give people a reason to sing along, to find their soundtrack every day,' Williams says. 'We wanted everyone to feel as if they're part of the music as well.'

Late album highlight 'Guess We Found a Way' addresses the change with a coy smile. 'Guess we found a way to speak to you/ Guess we found a way to say what's true/ To say what's real,' Williams coos over glistening chains of reverberant synth and diamond dust percussion, before returning to Ibibio in the chorus. Perhaps the best example of the group's ability to convey meaning across language and tradition, to blend past and future into a singular present comes on 'She Work Very Hard'. The traditional Ibibio folk tale bobs over the waves of tuned percussion, chunky synth, and pinprick highlife-esque guitar, while Jose Joyette's drums and Derrick McIntyre's bass funk groove bring everyone to the dance floor. 'These stories won't be forgotten. Feel the music: it speaks to everybody,' Williams says. 'We can travel back in time together, while convening on a futuristic, present tense. We hope that we can give people that reason to wake up, that one song to sing and dance and be happy.'

Doko Mien: Tell me everything. On their new album, Ibibio Sound Machine provide the perfect companion, ready to digest as much as possible and then further unfurl beauty and hope. They remember and honor the past and charge forward toward the future, all while intensely expanding the present.

15 Jahre nach seinem frühen Tod feiert - The 20th Century Records Albums (1973-1979)' Barry White als einen der größten Künstler / Songwriter / Produzenten der 70er Jahre. Er etablierte den neuen Klang der Orchesterseele, der über das Jahrzehnt und darüber hinaus zu einem Grundbestandteil wurde. Das Vinyl-Box-Set enthält alle 9 LP-Alben, die Barry White über das Label 20th Century Records veröffentlicht hat und werden hier zum ersten Mal zusammengestellt. Alle neun Alben wurden zum ersten Mal seit ihrer Veröffentlichung in den 70er Jahren von den originalen analogen Masterbändern remastert und werden hier mit ihrem originalen Sleeve und Label Art präsentiert. Die Alben wurden in den Abbey Road Studios in London auf hochwertigem 180g Vinyl geschnitten, um die höchstmögliche Audioqualität zu garantieren.





















































[ZZA] q4 | Oh Me, Oh My (I'm Such a Lucky Guy)
[ZZB] r1 | I Can't Leave You Alone
[ZZC] r2 | Call Me, Baby
[ZZD] r3 | How Did You Know It Was Me

Die in Genf lebende, in Lyon, mit Vorfahren aus Kamerun, geborene Emilie Nana ist ein Wunderkind. 'The Meeting Legacy' beinhaltet eine eklektische Selektion, die Vieles von dem beinhaltet, was Emilie ausmacht.

'The Meeting Legacy' umfasst 11 Stücke, inclusive Like You, welches bereits Anfang 2013 auf Compost Black Label als Maxi veröffentlicht wurde. Die Black Label # 61 wurde digital veröffentlicht und die Black Label # 95 gibt es auf Vinyl. 2013 war das eine von fünf EPs, die Emilie Nana bis dato herausgebracht hatte. I'm Childish, So What!, was erstmals im Sommer 2015 als Teil der COMPOST 500 - Compilation zu hören. Dieses Juwel ist von Emilie's Neffen inspiriert und basiert auf der Idee, dass wir, egal in welcher Lebensphase, stets zu uns selbst stehen sollen. Es ist der einzige Track auf dem Album mit französischen Vocals und vermittelt ein getragenes, leicht verrücktes, regelloses Gefühl, ein absolut fantasievolles Glanzstück. Drei Stücke des Albums: Tolstoy' Changes, Music und The Meeting Legacy, werden 2016 als Compost Black Label - Remix - Maxi erscheinen, mit Remixen von Manoo, Beanfield & Thomas Herb, Floyd Lavine.

The Meeting Legacy, der Titeltrack des Albums, ist purer Musik-Aktivismus. Der Text stammt von Elaine Brown, eine schwarze amerikanische Aktivistin und Künstlerin, Vorsitzende der Black Panther Partei. Der Bass dieses gemächlich stolzierenden Kampfsymbols ist Nana-esk und die Vocals heben sich mit Leichtigkeit ab und positionieren diesen Track auf ergreifende Weise.

Black Like Me erhebt einen fortwährenden Anspruch auf Fiktion und Non-Fiktion und verkörpert die gelebten und kenntnisreichen Erfahrungen Emilie Nanas. Eine warme, melodiöse Kreation, mit einfachsten Lyrics und im Hintergrund dümpelnden Marimbas. Es ist die musikalische Interpretation des Buches 'Black Like Me' von John Howard Griffin. Er erzählt hier die Geschichte des weissen Journalisten, der sich einer Hautverdunkelung unterzog, um sich im schwarzen Leben des separierten Südens der U.S.A. zu engagieren. Emilie's musikalische Interpretation erfasst die bunten kulturellen Äußerungen, welchen der weisse Journalist im gelebten schwarzen Alltag begegnet.

Track Fünf des Albums, dem inoffiziellen 'letzten Track von Teil 1' heist Confessions Of No Language. Während Emilie Nana hier ihre innersten Erfahrungen transponiert, oder transportiert, zielt sie auf eine 'gewisse' Körperzone. Welche Das muss man hören.

Das Album beginnt mit Off The Street, die wilden Begleiterscheinungen einer durchfeierten Nacht von Party-Girls, geht weiter mit dem, durch die frühen 90er Jahre von Janet Jackson und Prince beeinflussten Music, bei dem wir Emilie Nana sehr warm und cool erleben. Schliesslich entdecken wir sie in Inward Path, wenn sie resümiert, dass es mehr Glücklichkeit als Traurigkeit gibt, da immer Hoffnung in uns selbst existiert.

Dieses Werk erfreut sich an dem Erguss aus Nana's grazilem und dennoch lebhaftem Wesen und trachtet erfolgreich nach dem Brechen der Regeln, mit denen Kunst oft behaftet ist. Indem sie ihr Leben vergegenwärtigt, führt sie uns gekonnt, mit Kindesaugen, Teenage-Erfahrungen bis erwachsenen Sehnsüchten und ausgereif-ten Konversationen, durch Subkultur, Kampf und verschiedenen sozialen Einflüsse. Nach vier Jahren Produktionszeit, liefert Emilie Nana ein Album, das ihr verspielten, aber reifen Geist widerspiegelt und ihre Seele miteinbezieht, The Meeting Legacy.

Axis Expressionist Series

A collection of vinyl and limited digital releases, curated by Millsart, an alias of Jeff Mills, of his most eclectic and transcendent compositions that derive from his Every Dog Has Its Day project as well as new unreleased works. Vernacular creations that fall off from the "other side" of the Electronic Music tree, this project is designed for the experienced Techno music listeners, and its goal is to reflect upon the pure artistry of the craft of storytelling. A realization between music and life. Whereas "dancing" is the goal of Dance Music, the goal of this music is about "reflecting on the complexity and simplification of life".Soundtracks for people in their evolutionary process.

This release 'Drifter' is about 'Hype'.



Hype

An animal that prowls on the vulnerable - it excites those who might be looking the other way or with their eyes and minds wide shut.

What is life without hype?

As a transitional tool, hype can be most effective especially when impulse reactions are at play. Something of a psychological currency, there is a lot to gain by giving people what they want - the rush that comes with taking part in a process of making something bigger, more successful and more preferred. Even if there is nothing there.

What's wrong with getting exciting about something?

There are only a few rare masterclass cases that have lasted a lifetime.

As Andy Warhol proclaimed that "everyone will be World famous for 15 minutes" rings darkly true in an era when each one of us can be the talent scout, artist, critic, audience.......and then a revisionist, hoping to bring hype back again by reminding people how great the first round felt.

We are all free to use our attention and time anyway we please. This is the freedom we have, right?

In most cases, we wake up and at some point, the question of justification becomes a debate between those who found unconditional solace and those who re-discovered the subject of substance and "kicked the tires".

Should I care if others like or dislike something?

For some, the hype of something never ends. It hardens and becomes part of a foundation like a cement podium. Something to be stood on to speak over all dissenting voices.

Annie Bloch’s luvt is a quiet reorientation of the organ: away from its monumental image and ritualised spaces, towards the delicate mechanics of touch, air and friction. Across seven compositions marking her debut on OOH-sounds, the Cologne based organist and composer turns to the chest organ, a small and mobile counterpart to its larger relative, traditionally used to accompany Baroque music. On luvt, Bloch limits herself to just three stops of wooden pipes, using the instrument’s sensitive keyboard, mechanical subtle effects to crystalline sound world shaped by meditative strategies and fanciful detailing. Bloch’s approach sits at the crossroads of modern composition, new psychedelia, ambient and minimalist traditions, with occasional traces of an avant pop sensibility, while keeping the unique sound and physical character of the chest organ at its core.

The title luvt derives from the German luven, “to turn to the wind” and Luft, “air”, a gesture Bloch extends beyond the mechanics of the chest organ towards what cannot quite be grasped or put into words. Bloch follows the organ into quieter, more intimate territory, letting its monumental potential fade into the background while exploring the sensual its sound. luvt is a gentle and immersive meditation on the sound of the chest organ, revealing the instrument’s contemporary relevance while pushing its expressive possibilities into new territory.

Annie Bloch (*1994) is an organist, composer and songwriter based in Cologne, Germany. As an organist she performs solo and in alternating constellations with an improvisational and situational approach. The reality that every pipe organ as well as the space it speaks in is unique, is something she not only adapts to, but actively works with. The resulting composed improvisations explore states of change. Her pieces focus on the in-between-spaces, that are already leaning towards the next event. Searching for the ambivalences in a sound and lingering on them, her music resists singular truths. The musical material she draws from is informed by her engagement with the experimental music scene, but also by compositional styles of pop and ambient music. She has performed at Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival, Orgelpark Amsterdam, Philharmonie Köln, Moers Festival and others. As an indie-folk artist Annie Bloch released the album „I DEPEND“ (Papercup Records) with a chamber orchestral band, that she regularly performs with.

"Memory Remains" A Vinyl Cover Painted by 20 Children Who Believed They Could

A new album where the artwork is as personal as the music, created entirely by first-graders from Croatia.
When it came time to design the cover for Memory Remains, there was only one group of artists who felt right for the job: the first-grade class 1A of Osnovna škola Luka in Sesvete, Croatia.
Every single child in the class took part. Each student was given the chance to draw whatever came to mind: memories, dreams, imaginary worlds, the people and animals they love, and every one of those drawings made it onto the final cover. Nothing was left out, nothing was "corrected." The front and back panels of the vinyl are a patchwork of more than two dozen individual visions, side by side, unfiltered and unmistakably their own.
The idea grew directly out of the album's centrepiece track, "World Child", a song about the simple, often-overlooked truth that every child carries a talent that belongs only to them, and that no two ways of seeing the world are the same. Rather than illustrate that idea with a single artist's interpretation, it felt right to hand the canvas to an entire classroom of six- and seven-year-olds and let them prove the point themselves.
The result is a cover that doesn't try to look polished or professional, because that was never the goal. It looks like a classroom wall covered in a year's worth of drawings, each one different, each one someone's best effort, each one worth keeping. Which is exactly what "World Child" is about.

Memory Remains is out on vinyl.
Track of note: "World Child"
Artwork by: The students of 1A, Osnovna škola Luka, Sesvete, Croatia 2026

*COMES IN GATEFOLD 2LP WITH LINER NOTES*

The premise of this compilation is simple: music we’d like to hear at the airport.

The idea came after learning that Honolulu’s international airport has been playing AI-generated music over its speakers since November 2025. First reported by Civil Beat, the news has caused frustration and disappointment among residents and visitors, as well as within the local music community.

Everyone knows Hawaii is one of the most musically rich regions in the world — why then is the airport using AI music? 'Music For The Airport' is our response.

Located in the middle of the Pacific at the outskirts of one the most remote cities on the planet, Honolulu’s Daniel K. Inouye International Airport (HNL) is for most people the first place they encounter when they arrive in Hawaii. Warm sun, tropical tradewinds, playful palm trees and majestic mountains welcome every traveler, as do the sounds of birds, familiar music from Hawaiian artists like Aunty Genoa Keawe and Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, and—at least for now—seventeen “island-themed” AI-generated songs.

In late 1977, while sitting in Germany’s Cologne Bonn Airport on a Sunday morning, Brian Eno noticed how terribly uncomfortable he felt hearing the airport’s “muzak” overhead. For a harried, hurried place like the airport where travelers scramble to their gates, stand in long border control lines, and wait impatiently for their luggage at the carousels, music can create more anxiety than calm. Asking himself, "What should we be hearing here?", Eno soon created ‘Ambient 1: Music For Airports’, a sonic remedy aimed at reducing nervousness in public spaces.

When we heard the news that HNL airport is playing AI-generated “muzak”, we were immediately reminded of Eno’s genre-defying 1978 album. And we were similarly inspired to react. But how? Recreating an ambient masterpiece wasn’t in our wheelhouse. We started digging through our catalog of licensed music which we haven’t yet re-released. We quickly realized this was our chance to highlight some of favorite songs from the so-called CD era: the 1990s and 2000s (with a few exceptions). In less than 20 minutes, we pulled 17 original songs recorded by local artists between 1984 and 2017.

The speed at which this project came together surprised us; reactionary gut instinct often produces swift and lasting results. Ironically, our new compilation likely took less time than it did for the state Department of Transportation to commission its AI songs in question. But even though ‘Music for the Airport’ came together in less than one week, the truth is that this collection of 17 songs is the result of years of hard work, trust, sacrifice, patience, and understanding. Building relationships with and licensing music from artists doesn’t happen overnight, but more importantly: these songs are the result of people pouring their hearts and souls into something they believe in. This music wouldn’t exist today without the artists and their loved ones who supported them along the way.

As of this writing, the DOT states its intention in creating AI-generated songs is to “highlight different aspects of the islands, aviation and the airport” and that “no state funds were used to produce them”. Okay, but at what cost? Technology disrupting the music industry isn’t news to anyone. AI music in public spaces are cost-saving measures, since its users (airports, for example) don’t have to pay the licensing fees typically required, which can be a worthwhile source of revenue for artists. But what happens when a place like HNL airport, which hosts more than 21 million passengers annually, uses music created by machines instead of people to represent Hawaii? The identity of a place beings to erode, diluted by a language learning model’s conceptual summary of what a people and its culture sounds like. To echo Brian Eno: what should we be hearing here? In other words: what should the music of Hawaii sound like?

We believe in the power of music, especially when it comes from the soul. We believe in supporting artists, especially as AI disrupts our lives. We believe that Hawaii must be represented authentically, especially when it comes to song. And of course we believe in vinyl, especially since it was a record from 1978 (Mackey Feary Band’s debut LP) that inspired Aloha Got Soul’s origins in 2010.

We hope you find as much joy in this compilation as we have. Perhaps it’ll soundtrack your next journey to Hawaii. At the very least, we hope some people take a moment to hear these sounds: in your headphones for now‚ maybe someday overhead at the airport in Honolulu.

Teen of Denial: Joe’s Story is a freshly reimagined take on Car Seat Headrest’s beloved breakout, Teens of Denial, now celebrating its 10th anniversary.
On the original album, Toledo often used the name “Joe” as a pseudonym – a sly homage to Daniel Johnston. Revisiting Teens in the run-up to its 10th birthday, he felt called to give Joe a unique backstory and began tweaking the album to tell that tale. The group returned to the studio with Teens producer Steve Fisk to update accordingly – tweaking lyrics, revising arrangements, and recording new songs in the “Denial-style,” including ‘Optimistic Son” and the anthemic ‘Joe Drives Again’. The result retains Teens’ dark edge and youthful cynicism, but allows a bit of hard-won compassion into the mix.

From Will Toledo:
Sometime last year, it was suggested to me that we do something for the ten-year anniversary of ‘Teens of Denial,’ so I started looking back on the album to see what we might do. In spite of some of its songs being a regular part of my life for the past decade, it wasn’t a record I’d thought much about as a whole since it came out. Most of the songs I’d come up with over a two-year period at the end of my college days, when I was struggling a lot with cynicism and misplaced aggression. But by the time the songs were done, I was living in Washington, Car Seat Headrest was a full band with a record label, and in spite of the turmoil of the writing process, the final album was pretty enjoyable for everyone to work on.
This time, looking back at the songs, I started to feel like there was a story being told through the album, though I’d never imagined it as being a narrative work. On ‘Hi, How Are You?’ Daniel Johnston had used the name “Joe” in the titles of a few tracks –“No More Pushing Joe Around,” “Keep Punching Joe” – as a sort of joke, a stand-in for himself. I borrowed the idea, and the name, for titling songs on ‘Denial.’ This time, I started thinking - who is Joe? And how do the songs, in the way they’re sequenced on the album, reflect what he’s going through? As I started asking this question, a story emerged with startling wholeness and clarity, like finding the foundations of an ancient city while digging in my backyard. As I kept digging, certain songs from the original album fell by the wayside, as they seemed misplaced in this new context; others asked for new lyrics, to fully give birth to the story contained in the music.
The resulting work feels more like the album ‘Teens of Denial’ was meant to be. When you’re writing from a dark space, it’s hard to have perspective on where you’re at. This time, I could pull from memories of that darkness, and use the distance and additional perspective of ten years of life to shed a fuller light on the experience. Joe is a character going through some of what I experienced, and some of his own problems. Telling his story, and not just my own impressions of life at the end of the teen years, brought a new level of compassion and wholeness to the album. It gave us the opportunity to write new material in “Denial style”, embracing a snappy and simple(ish) rock aesthetic, and in an additional blessing, we were able to team up once with Steve Fisk, a joy and inspiration to get back into the studio with after ten years. We mixed the material at his house in Tacoma, and were constantly amazed at the lack of divide between past and present, as we’d punch in vocal overdubs ten years later into the same gear, hearing my voice now running alongside a 2015 Will. For someone coming across this album or this band for the first time, this is how they’d hear the record, not as a relic of the past but as a new piece. It was immensely rewarding to experience that on our side.

For anyone familiar with ‘Teens,’ comparisons with the original will be inevitable, but I do hope that as much as possible, people can come to this album on its own terms, approaching it as a teen, hearing the music and story for the first time. I believe music is an ongoing story, and albums don’t always do justice to its dynamic, ongoing nature. What gives it life is the new ears that hear it, and the new hearts that engage with it. I’m so grateful that this is a work that people have kept coming to, and I hope that this presentation does them honor with a fresh offering to the conversation. We’ve known that “it doesn’t have to be like this”; now we can wonder - “what it if were like this?”

For the label's latest, Oath is proud to present 'Honey Tangerine', the newest mini-album from producer extortionaire Olsvangèr, who serves up his signature blend of hyper-kinetic, ever-shifting dance music.

Olsvangèr's sound and musical journey are forever rooted in the liminal spaces that make up the broad-reaching and ever-shifting electronic music landscape, with his records consistently channeling that in-betweenness that imprints lasting impressions. A classically trained musician with a profound passion for house and techno, Olsvangèr's sonic palette is one of both broad and delicate brush strokes, applying an array of compelling motifs within amorphous arrangements that blend and blur perspectives. His records seek out the faraway fringes as much as focusing on the intensity found in the detail, creating cavernous soundscapes that are impeccably tuned and effortlessly free-flowing. Seemingly genreless, his records are anchored in all that is known and loved, yet due to the music's perspective situated at the intersectionality of electronica, a beautiful anticipation resides within every stanza of his tracks at what may come next. His musical language has found him releasing on the likes of Kalahari Oyster Cult, Hooj Choons and Craigie Knowes, and follows through within his imprint Tofistock, which has been pushing some of the most forward-thinking dance music of recent times.

'Honey Tangerine' touches upon the classic motifs of Olsvangèr's sound, and as always, the room for growth within the record's parameters remains truly endless. Over six tracks, Olsvangèr lays bare the directions of travel, with paths unravelling that feel well trodden yet with some that branch out towards new horizons. 'Source of Thought' opens up proceedings with a captivating ambience, where twinkling hues and lively tones paint the parameters of sound. The chuggy breaks that land deep within the mix drop in and out of view, allowing a deft balance between pure ambiance and rhythm to exchange dialogue between one another. 'In a Nutshell' shifts gears in atmosphere and energy, with all eyes placed upon the club. The shifting rhythm section lifts the acidic melodic features up above, with driving bass notes and a euphoric vocal like lead linking the depths to the heavens. 'Tulpa Nine' swings into heads-down territory, where the drums swing slow and the throbbing bass hits heavy. The auto-tune vocal line up above creates an atmosphere of hazy, smoke-filled rooms, where the party yearns for downtime in anticipation of the next shift in energy.

'Sunrise on the Lips' gives over further chill out room vibrations, where the lights remain low, and smiles reside all around. The enriching drums provide the basis for sitars and glossy keys to glide across the top ends, with the mind invited to dip deep within this enthralling ensemble. 'Zoom It Out' provides the release into the room, with the ante upped. A breaky house leaning number, this cut grooves through its chiming melodic section and groove-laden bass line, with the polyrhythmic drumming pattern doing much to keep the energy residing very high indeed. The record is wrapped up with 'Some Air', which gives over one final jaunt through the airy, slowed-down slipstreams. A wondrous beat is complemented by melodic elements that chime, absorb and quiver, glowing through the night with such charm and feel. An engrossing composition that demonstrates what Olsvangèr is all about - a crafter of sound, where adventure is sought and found, never wavering but curating new connections, feelings, and tones, with an eye on what might come next.

Whether softly undulating or boundlessly expressive, Olsvangèr's music remains a beautiful enigma that serves up both the glorious knowns and the captivating unknowns - 'Honey Tangerine' is yet another chapter in his glorious discography.

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.

After decades contributing to records where a single riff could transform a dancefloor, Charlie May turns that instinct inward on Trusted Farms.
For over thirty years, Charlie has occupied a position that seems increasingly rare in electronic music: the musician’s musician, the person behind the machines, the extra pair of hands in the studio, and quite often, the person responsible for the melody you end up carrying around in your head for weeks on end. 
Alongside Duncan Forbes as Spooky, Charlie helped shape some of the most important electronic music to emerge from the UK in the early ’90s. That partnership would also sow the seeds for one of Sasha’s defining records: the central riff behind Xpander began life in Spooky’s live material, before Charlie brought the idea into the studio with Sasha and helped transform it into one of electronic music’s most enduring anthems.
Listen closely to Charlie’s work and there’s a particular instinct that keeps returning: knowing when a simple synth line is enough. Knowing which note needs to change. Knowing when repetition stops being repetition and starts becoming the entire reason a track works. More recently, as one-third of Quiet Places on ASIP, he’s taken those same instincts somewhere looser — beatless, gridless and led by improvisation.
Trusted Farms puts those instincts front and centre.
Tiny melodic phrases appear and refuse to leave. Synth lines repeat just long enough to become lodged in your head. Parts rub against each other without being tidied into submission. There’s a sharpness and directness to it all amongst the purposeful analogue warmth.
Some of these tracks feel almost ridiculously simple at first. But simplicity is difficult when you’ve spent decades learning every possible way to complicate something. Many of the parts on Trusted Farms were performed live with minimal editing. A synth line might be doubled, distorted, re-recorded and pushed back through another piece of equipment, but it remains the same idea. Instead of filling the gaps, Charlie works on the weight and character of what is already there. The melodies become physical; slightly worn around the edges.
For someone whose fingerprints can be found across some genuinely monumental moments in electronic music, Charlie has spent decades knowing what to add. 
Trusted Farms is about knowing exactly what to leave alone.
Available on black 12”, mastered by Andreas Lupo LOOP-O Lubich and featuring artwork by Peter Skwiot Smith,

Verdad Y Error (2026) resides in the tension between the thrashing of external noise and beating centred internal calm. Gibrana Cervantes is known for her work across experimental music and contemporary performance, a practice with focussed intensity and surging physicality, often pushing the limits of endurance, presence, and embodiment. A central axis of her performance practice is her ongoing collaboration with acclaimed choreographer Florentina Holzinger, including composing the music for SEA WORLD (2026), Florentina Holzinger’s critically acclaimed installation for the Austrian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale. Alongside this, she is a core member of the experimental ensemble Amor Muere (Mabe Fratti, Concepción Huerta, and Camille Mandoki). Cervantes maintains an active recording practice that directly informs her live output including her collaboration Memoria (2025), with Colombian Drone Mafia (Nyksan) for Ambie-Tón (Tratratrax),

Verdad y Error is a record of her artistic approach which expands her body and the violin’s horizon of possibility to near breaking point. Cervantes uses a register closely associated with Metal, yet buried deep in the alchemy of these pieces are motifs which hark back to her classical background. Across these pieces the violin is used as an instrument with a fragmented and shifting voice — blurred, repeated, and reshaped through distortion. “Many of these pieces come from images, memories, and sensations that have stayed with me for years. I'm interested in the blurring of what actually happened and what time transforms.” The recordings are built with layers of violin tones which oscillate between recognisable, processed, stretched and shifted, and lay embedded in a frequency stratum of volatile static and noise. “The violin on this album doesn't appear as a clean instrument. I process it, repeat it, distort it, and multiply it until it begins to feel more like memory than melody. Something blurry, shifting, difficult to grasp.” The origins of the album were born at a time when Cervantes was seeking inner calm amidst a relentless external noise, questioning the validity or possibility of memory and its radically changing perception in relation to experience. Subsequent reflection on this contemplative moment allowed her to develop a relational music which moves through memory, erosion, repetition, and emotional ambiguity. Creating a space that feels both intimate and unstable, mercurial with the patina of lived imperfection.

Akin to the unreliable narrator and linguistic instability, each piece functions as an emotional landscape suspended between clarity and confusion. An album which balances melody, brutality, fragility and noise
throughout its sprawling recordings and artwork, which operates as an analogue to the music. The visual world of the album developed in collaboration with Mauro Ventura was compiled across various media with a mix of handwritten texts, burned typography, metallic textures, and fragile physical materials. “I wanted the record to feel tactile and imperfect — something emotionally direct but physically worn.” says Cervantes. More than offering explanations, verdad y error exists as a conversation between memory and disappearance, noise and stillness, truth and error.

2026 Repress

What an unbelievable record. From the wild cover to the iconic breakbeats, Roots from Ian Carr’s Nucleus is one of the dopest albums we know. This is seriously thick, funky-prog jazz-rock heaven. Originally released on Vertigo in 1973, other than a couple of versions at the time for other territories, Roots was never re-pressed since so it’s gone on to become another one of those impossible to find records.

Maybe it was a little too out there for the time, but it’s aged very, very well indeed and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.

Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels.

Working together with producer Fritz Fryer and engineer Roger Wake, the seven compositions by Carr, Brian Smith and Dave MacRae that make up Roots flirt with perfection, and Nucleus at that time made up of the cream of 1970s UK jazz with Brian Smith on tenor saxophones and flutes, Dave MacRae on piano and electric piano, Jocelyn Pitchen on guitar, Roger Sutton on bass, both Clive Thacker and Aureo De Souza on drums and percussion, Joy Yates delivering the vocals and of course Carr on trumpet.

The spellbinding title track immediately renders the album indispensable. Riding the illest of loping breakbeats, “Roots” is low-slung, doped-out heist-funk. An absolute monster. If it sounds familiar then that’s likely down to it being sampled by Madlib for Lootpack and Quasimoto’s “Loop Digga”, as well as by a whole host of beat manipulators. “Roots” conjures prime instrumental hip-hop / beat music, only 20 years ahead of its time. Truly, these are the roots. Through sinuous bass, twinkling keys and a hypnotic guitar riff, a smoky brass motif weaves its way into a gloriously deep haze around Carr’s solos. “Roots” is over 9 minutes long, but there’s not a single wasted second, not surprising given that this is a condensed version of an originally 40 minute long commissioned composition.

The soothing vocal fusion delight of “Images” follows. Meticulously constructed, with gorgeous flute work from Brian Smith, with Joy Yates’ silky vocals and Dave MacRae’s Rhodes never sounding better. The cool, driving “Caliban” closes out the first side. Originally the third movement in a four part commission to celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday it stands up on its own, all robust rhythms and blended brass. Keyboard colour and Carr’s trumpet are splashed across the funk drums and basslines (and there’s even some bamboo flute). This really is fusion: the elements of jazz and rock coming together in beautifully synthesis.

Side two opens in riotous fashion with the short, thrilling samba of “Wapatiti”. Next up, “Capricorn” forms a smoothed-out, jazzy constellation. Mellow and dreamy, its twinkling percussion and languid horns slowly build the vibe before head-nod drums and a killer bassline enter the fray. With a distinct heaviness that Black Sabbath would’ve envied, “Odokamona” is a venomous slice of riff-soaked jazz metal (yes, you read that right), elevated by Carr’s wah-wah horns.

The album closes with MacRae’s exceptionally cosmic “Southern Roots and Celebration”. Very much in conversation with Weather Report, it opens as a languorous, spiritual jazz of chiming keys and serene guitar that turns slowly, gorgeously into a mid-paced, brass-laced banger. It’s another sure-fire party starter and the sound of the band having a righteous blast, building an ecstatic chaos that ends with Yates screaming.

And of course we need to talk about Keith Davis’ cover for Roots. Perhaps the coolest record cover of all time? Certainly one of the most bonkers. Just your run-of-the-mill high-gloss, acid-tinged airbrush dystopian/utopian living-room party scene. Consider this your chemical flashback trigger warning.

Front-and-centre the hip-to-death green robot holds court with their giant ball of yellow barbwire wool, hooked up to… something(?) being teased out from under the stairs (probably best not to ask). A thoroughly zoned-out, long-legged Pop Art party-goer lounges half-plugged in to the painting behind her as a pair of legs flail into shot from the the top of the stairs opposite. We won’t even begin to guess what the chap’s up to in the middle, but the view out of the windows is rather nice, and someone’s already got the hoover out ready to tidy up. All of the Nucleus sleeves are something special, but this particular one? Crikey.

This Be With edition of Roots has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Pete Norman’s cut to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The crazy cover has been restored at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

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.

For Louis Johnstone, making music has never been about waiting for the right equipment, the right environment or the right moment. Across more than a decade of work as both Wanda Group and A Large Sheet Of Muscle, the Huddersfield-based musician has built one of British experimental music's most singular bodies of work by embracing whatever happens to be within reach, allowing instinct, improvisation and circumstance to shape the outcome as much as conscious composition.
"'Chinese Benefits' was made over a year ago on an iPhone that had a broken microphone and was on its way out," he explains. "I have made many records after this with clearer sounds. Sharper ideas. That is never the point, though. You work with what you hold in your hands."
Recorded entirely on a failing iPhone 6 that stopped working shortly afterwards, 'Chinese Benefits' isn't a record about damaged technology. It is a record shaped by it. Rather than resisting the limitations of the device, Johnstone allows them to become part of the music itself, where distortion, interference and deteriorating fidelity are inseparable from the recording process.
Across twenty brief but disquieting pieces, corroded spoken word, environmental recordings, abrasive noise and fractured electronics continually emerge and dissolve. Voices drift in and out of range, reverberation stretches everyday sounds beyond recognition, and bursts of white noise interrupt moments of uneasy calm. There are echoes of radio transmissions, field recordings and musique concrète throughout, yet 'Chinese Benefits' never settles comfortably into any one tradition. Instead, it inhabits a space where accident and intention become almost impossible to separate.

That philosophy has long defined Johnstone's work. Through a vast catalogue of self-released recordings on his Umbro G imprint, alongside releases for labels including The Trilogy Tapes, he has consistently favoured immediacy over refinement, embracing imperfection not as an aesthetic but as a practical reality. His recordings are less concerned with perfection than with capturing the conditions in which they were made.
Looking back on 'Chinese Benefits', however, Johnstone's own assessment is characteristically understated.
"Listening back fully, it's quite a nice record actually. Fair enough, I make them and never really listen again TBH. Even better, it was the last Large Sheet Of Muscle record made on that phone with grit and damaged guts."

Like much of his work, 'Chinese Benefits' offers few fixed meanings. Its titles remain cryptic, its voices partially obscured and its structures deliberately unstable. What emerges instead is a deeply personal document of process over perfection, where the limitations of the tools become inseparable from the music they produce, and where the act of making something matters far more than the conditions in which it was made.

On Dummy’s new album, do you love the color of the sky?, the Los Angeles-based 5-piece deliver a breathtaking piece of work that introduces new textures and rhythms to their already varied and refined catalog. For the band’s third album, and first for new label home Polyvinyl, the group split time between self-recording at their home studio as well as Studio 22, linking up with frequent collaborator and engineer Joo-Joo Ashworth (Corridor, Automatic, Spiral XP). The band focused on intentionality and experimentation, exploring downtempo dance beats and electronic music while pushing the guitar as far as they could, using new self-sampling and processing techniques. Percussionist Alex Ewell’s overall sound design and production skills can be heard across the album, with layered drum sounds and rhythmic tremolo techniques shining throughout. Tracks like “Full Spectrum Dominance” and “Alluvial Fan” showcase the band’s tasteful pop sensibilities, while closing track “Heaven’s What You Make Of

It” features perhaps the strongest vocal delivery yet from vocalist/keyboardist
Emma Maatman. Additionally, the dynamic exchange between guitarists Joe Trainor and Nathan O’Dell is absolutely gorgeous, adding a new layer of immersion and directness that is unlike anything the band has done before. The result is Dummy’s most ethereal and sincere record to date, with more feminine and delicate undertones that sit beautifully alongside the gritty and noisy textures the band has become known for. Dummy has been praised in numerous outlets such as Paste, Stereogum, Aquarium Drunkard and Pitchfork, who described their second album, Free Energy, as “the
sound of a band turning all its potential energy into music that’s dazzlingly kinetic and powerful." The band has toured the US, UK, and EU extensively, with festival appearances at Austin Psych Fest, Treefort Music Festival, and others. In addition to larger outlets and festivals, the band’s strong ties to community and DIY ethos are ever-present, oftentimes preferring to play and connect with different local artists on tour, uplifting those around them while shining a light on the history of independent music.

On Dummy’s new album, do you love the color of the sky?, the Los Angeles-based 5-piece deliver a breathtaking piece of work that introduces new textures and rhythms to their already varied and refined catalog. For the band’s third album, and first for new label home Polyvinyl, the group split time between self-recording at their home studio as well as Studio 22, linking up with frequent collaborator and engineer Joo-Joo Ashworth (Corridor, Automatic, Spiral XP). The band focused on intentionality and experimentation, exploring downtempo dance beats and electronic music while pushing the guitar as far as they could, using new self-sampling and processing techniques. Percussionist Alex Ewell’s overall sound design and production skills can be heard across the album, with layered drum sounds and rhythmic tremolo techniques shining throughout. Tracks like “Full Spectrum Dominance” and “Alluvial Fan” showcase the band’s tasteful pop sensibilities, while closing track “Heaven’s What You Make Of

It” features perhaps the strongest vocal delivery yet from vocalist/keyboardist
Emma Maatman. Additionally, the dynamic exchange between guitarists Joe Trainor and Nathan O’Dell is absolutely gorgeous, adding a new layer of immersion and directness that is unlike anything the band has done before. The result is Dummy’s most ethereal and sincere record to date, with more feminine and delicate undertones that sit beautifully alongside the gritty and noisy textures the band has become known for. Dummy has been praised in numerous outlets such as Paste, Stereogum, Aquarium Drunkard and Pitchfork, who described their second album, Free Energy, as “the
sound of a band turning all its potential energy into music that’s dazzlingly kinetic and powerful." The band has toured the US, UK, and EU extensively, with festival appearances at Austin Psych Fest, Treefort Music Festival, and others. In addition to larger outlets and festivals, the band’s strong ties to community and DIY ethos are ever-present, oftentimes preferring to play and connect with different local artists on tour, uplifting those around them while shining a light on the history of independent music.