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From the Devine to the downright deranged...

This record has something for all the daring DJs out there!

2025 Repress

DJ Koze might be one of the world's best producers, but above all he's a DJ, and it's his DJ ear that governs. J
ust as in a great set, so with his releases: 'Seeing Aliens' came out of nowhere, a big buzzing beast of a track, to announce that Koze was back on the scene and prime everyone for the coming album, knock knock.
But now that Koze has your attention, it's time to remind everyone what's most important about club music, pull things back, take a turn to the left, and get deep into the groove.

Thus 'Pick Up': the second single from knock knock is 100% pure groove, doubly so in the extended 12' version.

In a sense it's incredibly familiar - it is essentially a filter disco record, very close to something you could imagine coming out of Paris around the turn of the millennium. But of course, this is Koze. Nothing is normal or familiar in his world, and he's taken this most foundational of clubland staples into new territory. Flipping amples of Gladys Knight & the Pips 'Neither One Of Us (Wants to Be the First to Say Goodbye)' and Melba Moore's 'Pick Me Up, I'll Dance', it creates something completely airborne, shot through with emotions such as gods must feel: not quite explicable to the human mind but strong enough to knock you off your feet. In its way it's absolutely as powerful as 'Seeing Aliens', but it comes in like the proverbial iron fist in a glove of velvet.
The flip, a ten-minute new track, 'The Love Truck' is a big contrast again. If 'Pick Up' is giddy flight,
'The Love Truck' is woozy floating. Its sharp, clicking percussion recalls 2000s minimal techno, but this time absolutely nothing is generic. The long, intense, on-and-off bass tones, the flickers of birdsong, the pure voices slipping in backwards as if from the future... it's all like the most blissful dream, and culminates in a coda so subtle yet so beautiful it's like ever time you've ever seen the sun rise and thought 'I never want this to end', all the while understanding deep down that the fleeting nature of the pleasure is also what give it its power. But of course, being created with that consummate DJ's ear, it's also full of the thrill of wondering what Koze has in store next.

Jan Akkerman (b. 1946) stands apart as a singular figure in the realm of rock and beyond. A Dutch guitarist of unparalleled versatility, he earned international acclaim in 1973 when he topped the prestigious Melody Maker readers’ poll, surpassing icons like Eric Clapton (2nd), Jimmy Page (5th), and Carlos Santana (10th). His fame, however, has never defined his artistry. For Akkerman, it’s always been about the music—any genre, as long as it resonates. He’s a lifelong improviser who approaches each performance as a new adventure. Akkerman first rose to prominence with Focus, a band that embodied the grandiose instrumental rock spirit of the 1970s. Long compositions, dazzling technique, and adventurous arrangements made them a cornerstone of progressive rock. Despite the accolades, Akkerman remained true to his calling. When asked about his success, he has always brushed it aside, preferring to let his guitar do the talking. Side 1 of this record captures Akkerman’s stunning performance on July 10, 2011, at the Nile Hall in Rotterdam. Here, he showcases his ability to take listeners on a sonic journey. The mellow “Tranquilizer” offers a relaxed groove, followed by the heartfelt ballad “You Do Something to Me,” unfolding emotion without words. In “Piétons”—a gospel-tinged blues—trumpeter Eric Vloeimans delivers a fiery solo before the leader propels the piece into uncharted territory. Side 2 brings us back to an earlier moment, recorded in July 2005 at the Paul Acket Paviljoen in The Hague. “Streetwalker” delivers a funk-driven explosion featuring alto saxophonist Benjamin Herman, while “The Zebrah” sends Vloeimans soaring into the musical stratosphere, only to have Akkerman reignite the piece with blistering guitar lines, his band driving forward like a well-tuned Mercedes on an open highway. Akkerman’s live performances are as unpredictable as they are electrifying. Whether sharing the stage with legends or newcomers, his spontaneous creativity makes every concert unique—a master class in musical freedom. Jan Akkerman remains a touchstone for guitarists and fans alike, an authentic improviser whose name still elicits one universal response from any seasoned Dutch rock enthusiast: “He’s the best guitarist in the world.” The North Sea Jazz Concert Series includes officially licensed releases that will be released as standard on 180-gram white vinyl in a sleeve of heavy paper and printed on reversed board. The records are captured in mainly black-and-white artwork by Hans Pol in his signature style of the festival with inspiration from the covers of classic older jazz releases from the Blue Note label, for example. The liner notes are written by journalist and jazz expert Jeroen de Valk. For all recordings it’s a first time ever release on vinyl!

Very few bands manage to last decades, and for the ones that do, it's often easy to settle down and get a little too comfortable. But there's nothing comfortable about Devourer, the explosive new album from Cursive. The iconic Omaha group is known for their intensity, ambition, and execution, and has spent 30 years creating a bold discography that's defined as much by its cathartic sound as its weighty, challenging lyrical themes. And Devourer is as daring as ever. Full of intense and incisive songs, the album proves exactly why Cursive have been so influential and enduring-and why they remain so vital today.In the years since their 1995 formation, Cursive developed into one of the most important groups to emerge from the late-'90s/early `00s moment when the lines between indie rock and post-hardcore began blurring into something altogether new. Albums like Domestica (2000) and The Ugly Organ (2003) became essential touchstones whose echoes can still be heard in new bands today. Devourer, as an expansive new double-album, examines humanity's bottomless capacity for consumption through a series of songs that act like vignettes, driven by frontman Tim Kasher's never-ending appetite for both taking in and creating art."I am obsessive about consuming the arts," he explains. "Music, film, literature. I've come to recognize that I devour all of these art forms then, in turn, create my own versions of these things and spew them out onto the world. It's positive; you're part of an ecosystem. But I quickly recognized that the term, `Devourer,' may also embody something gnarly, sinister." Fans have come to expect such heady topics from Cursive, but Devourer sets a new standard.While Cursive's music hasn't gotten any more comfortable, perhaps its being released into a world that's at least a little more shaped in their image. Devourer sounds urgent and fresh, the work of a band still experimenting, still hungering to find new creative heights. On album highlight "Consumers," the protagonist bemoans, "I saw our future and I want to go back." But Cursive are only moving forward.

Florilegium, the debut album from songwriter Uwade, winds through genre, through death, break-ups, friendship, and failure. Here, she wanted to honor as much of herself as she could — her family and Nigerian heritage, her scholarly tendencies, her background in choirs, the literature that moves her, the melodies of artists like Fela Kuti, Yebba, and Julian Casablancas of the Strokes, who inspired her to start writing songs at the inception of her music-making. Cerebral and curious, each musical moment feels tactile, deliberate, and thoughtful — but also fresh, like something just discovered. A shimmering anthology that finds sweetness and light in sorrow, an amalgamation of disparate influences and recording sessions seamlessly fitting together through her expressive, expansive voice.

Taba voices a subtle yet surprising shift for the Japanese musician and producer Satomimagae. Observing and absorbing the fleeting scenes and sounds of life flowing outside of her home studio, Taba unfolds as a series of vignettes that document the personal and the universal. Satomi sings beyond herself in an orbit of souls and systems known and unknown, seen and unseen, in the present and in the strange flux of memory, leaving linear songwriting to rest for circuitous stories expanded and expansive in tone and texture. Following the logic of taba, a Japanese term for a bunch, bundle or grouping together of different things, the album is assembled as a loose collection of short stories. Shapeshifting into something like a poet-narrator, Satomi casts her writer's eye to the often perplexing shapes that form from quotidian events and exchanges defining our increasingly alienated age. Where Satomi's last full-length, 2021's Hanazono, bloomed from the lush soil of a private inner sphere, the bird's eye of Taba searches to place the artist_somewhere, somehow_within a wider, wilder world. Collaborations with other artists and musicians close to Satomi's universe further elevate the album's sweeping sonics. Synthesizer lines from Norio, who also helps define the album's visual identity through photo and video, enliven the tender ballad "Kodama." The bell-like Rhodes piano ringing in and around Satomi's guitar on "Dottsu" is played by Akhira Sano, who created the cover art for her 2021 Colloid EP. Yuya Shito's clarinet was the missing puzzle piece that completed "Spells," and it was also Yuya who mixed Taba with an ear for its organic textures and elegantly frayed edges, giving utterance to a distinctly different energy than Satomi's earlier expressions. The tonal and rhythmic play that lay the foundation of these songs also animates a colorful palette of melodic gestures, noisy resonances and pointed moments captured by Satomi's close-at-hand recorder. While Taba is still carried by the innate intimacy that has defined Satomi's music to date, these songs channel her newly spacious and inquisitive songwriting approach, unlocking unusual layers in the process. Some are subsumed in the speculative poetics of sound design, while others peer through the window of bedroom pop. Gathering imagistic reflections, tracing vast ideations and quietly lingering in humble moments, Taba connects vivid lines between the individual and the collective, the constructed and the cosmic, the articulated and the felt. Satomi's sonic tales gain an eloquent coherence by the simple fact of existing in conversation, humming a harmony of parts that buzzes with the tangled circuitry of a life in motion. Taba is the fifth album from Japanese musician, songwriter and dream traveler Satomimagae, following her 2021 album Hanazono and the 2023 reissue of her debut album Awa, both for RVNG Intl. On Taba, Satomimagae leaves linear songwriting to rest for circuitous stories expanded and expansive in tone and texture, unfolding as a series of vignettes that document both the personal and the universal. Some of the songs on Taba feature intimate moments captured on Satomi's hand recorder, poetic moments of sound design animated by tonal and rhythmic bedroom pop foundations. As with Hanazono, Taba's album artwork features a wooden block print by Satomi's sister, the artist Natsumi Magae.

"Released in 2011, Revelator is the debut studio album by the Tedeschi Trucks Band, a powerhouse blues-rock ensemble led by Susan Tedeschi and Derek Trucks. The album blends blues, rock, soul, and jazz, showcasing the band's rich, full-bodied sound. Standout tracks like ""Midnight in Harlem,"" ""Come See About Me,"" and ""Bound for Glory"" highlight Tedeschi’s soulful vocals and Trucks’ masterful slide guitar work. Produced by Jim Scott and Derek Trucks, Revelator received critical acclaim for its organic musicianship, heartfelt songwriting, and dynamic arrangements. The album won the Grammy Award for Best Blues Album in 2012, solidifying the band’s reputation as one of the finest acts in contemporary blues and rock. For fans of blues-infused rock with deep soul influences, Revelator is an essential listen, capturing the magic of a band that seamlessly blends technical brilliance with emotional depth. Revelator is available as a limited edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on red coloured vinyl."

With Horror Spectrum, Bunnies plunges headfirst into the shadowy abyss of their art-rock multiverse, unearthing sounds that slither, shimmer, and scream.

Equal parts psychedelic hallucination, krautrock ritual, and noise rock exorcism, this record feels like the sonic aftermath of mad scientists summoning ghosts through an analog synthesizer they excavated from a cursed tomb. It's less an album and more an experiment gone deliciously wrong—a séance that channels the chaotic energies of dimensions better left untouched.

From the extraterrestrial pulsations of “Eyer of Ire” to the technicolor bliss of “That Evil Ghoul,” Horror Spectrum is a seven-track odyssey that detonates the boundaries of Bunnies’ already unhinged catalog. These tracks drag you by the ankles into realms where sound has teeth, time melts into warped rainbows, and the music feels like it’s plotting something sinister. Few bands dare to tread where Bunnies boldly hop, but here they are, mapping out mythical soundscapes with the glee of cartographers lost in their own creation.

This freakish entity of a record is profoundly unsettling and weirdly exhilarating. Horror Spectrum is the sound of a band digging deep into their subconscious and inviting you to get lost in the labyrinth.

Will you find your way out?

And if it sounds this good, why not just stay?

Justin Sullivan has been living something of an artistic double life for the last 8 years. He’s been playing drums in Los Angeles’ Flat Worms and getting back together with his NYC bandmates in The Babies, but he’s also been crafting his own songs under the name Night Shop. Under this moniker, Sullivan has released two LPs and two 12” EPs and toured supporting, Widowspeak, Shannon Lay and Waxahatchee.

Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield once described Sullivan as “a well-read modern day Buddy Holly” and on his new record, The Beloved Returns, he raises the bar of both the literary allusions and the rock’n’roll. The record’s title track was inspired by Thomas Manns’s 1939 fictionalized biography of Goethe titled Lotte in Weimar: The Beloved Returns and themes of desire, obsession and the places they send you are all over the record. On the sonic end, the record is louder and faster than any Night Shop record before, a result of Sullivan’s collaboration with the Summer Cannibals’ Jessica Bourdeaux who produced the record, with songs like the opener “Ode To Joy II” coming fast out of the gate quickly followed by “Let Me Be the Lamb.”

Compiled by Bob Stanley to document the acid folk scene, “Gather In The Mushrooms” was first issued in 2004 on Sanctuary as a CD-only release; it proved popular enough for a sequel entitled “Early Morning Hush” two years later.

This new edition of “Gather In The Mushrooms” contains the cream of both long-deleted compilations with a few additions – COB, Roy Harper, Fotheringay – that weren’t available to Sanctuary at the time. Though they aren’t traditional, these songs have an authenticity of their own, an autumnal atmosphere and a naivety which proved influential in the 00s neo-folk boom (Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsom, Alasdair Roberts, Tuung et al) but impossible to replicate. For many of these acts at the end of the 60s, folk music and the hippy world that surrounded them was a way of life, a way of opting out from the Vietnam war, Angry Brigade and three-day-week early 70s. Anne Briggs lived in a caravan in Suffolk, Shelagh McDonald lived in a tent, Vashti Bunyan eschewed electricity; they weren’t part-timers. Listening to “Gather In The Mushrooms”, we are transported to a time when no one used the term post-modernist.

It may not have resonated with dyed-in-the wool political folkies, but over five decades later this music sounds very evocative of an England of yore – not necessarily one of poachers and pedlars, but one of long-haired youths in tie-dye T-shirts, bikers and hippies, acoustic guitars played in white stone cottages. Groups such as Stone Angel, Midwinter and Oberon made primitive, privately recorded folk albums; today they sound as distant and mystical as the field recordings of Alan Lomax. The sincerity and folk knowledge of a group like Forest becomes irrelevant once you hear something as eerie and evocative as ‘Graveyard’. Home-made, homely, warm as soup or chilling as a hoar frost, this is music of innocence and rare beauty.

A1 - Planet Genesis

Chronicle makes his Spatial debut in style with Planet Genesis, opening with a beautifully crisp 2-step break over light atmospheric padwork, quickly accompanied by Hot Pants snares and dancing strings. Graceful hi-hats and insanely subtle vocal usage ebb and flow in the mix while soothing melodies enter and depart at will. The breakdown offers an intense change of tone before the breaks resume and continue the journey to a destination unknown.

A2 - Crystal Clear

Very much living up to its title, Crystal Clear sees Chronicle deliver a finely tuned assortment of beats with a remarkable clarity that truly shines in the "old school brand new" sensibilities of throwback atmospheric drum & bass. Snippets of various classic breaks can be heard in the mix with a superb attention to detail, taking you back with a style quite reminiscent of the golden era of late 90's Logical Progression.

B1 - Libra

Airy pads and a rousing yet subtle melody delicately introduce Libra, as Chronicle gradually builds towards a thrilling yet thoughtful amen workout set to blissful atmospherics. With a plethora of exquisite production techniques on show, the track showcases the versatility of Chronicle, offering something new to enjoy on each listen - the layers of detail are truly impressive.

B2 - Higher Limits

Echoing whirs and clicks dance playfully around light pads in the unique DJ-friendly intro to Higher Limits, a detailed, joyful track which celebrates a bygone era with sharp, expertly edited breaks and a smooth 808 bassline to die for. Micro melodies and long waves of delicious synths add texture and depth to the mix, resulting in the perfect closing track to a superbly varied and elegantly produced debut EP.

Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

Marina y su Melao is a band from Barcelona led by Puerto Rican Marina Molina. After a period of live activity, in 2025 they will release their debut album, "Rezo al agua", where Puerto Rico's bomba, an eminently rhythmic genre, expands to fuse with the colours and flavours of other Afro-Caribbean sounds. Tradition and folklore are embodied in a powerful and innovative conception.

In "Rezo al agua", Marina Molina expresses an attachment to the land, the landscape, the culture, the beliefs and the environment where she was born, Puerto Rico. She does this through bomba, one of the country's most identifying musical expressions. Bomba is as old as the slavery of those who gave birth to it in order to tell their tribulations and hopes, armed with the instrument they had at hand: the drums. It is a kind of meta-genre that includes a multitude of rhythmic varieties.

But Marina is something more than bomba, the legacy she received from her elders and which she does not wish to turn into a frozen object of veneration, an untouchable totem, mystical and ruled by norms bequeathed by the years. Marina, who has Colombian blood in her veins, is an artist of today, of a world in which cultures can mix, people migrate, influence each other, travel, exchange their cultural traces, can see online what happens at the other end of the world and thus open the window that facilitates the mixing of identities. These mixtures redraw borders and genres, allowing popular music to avoid its fossilization.

Marina grows in this fertile territory. She has a ductile and powerful voice, as clear as her strong, independent mindset. This is a remarkable element in the lyrics of the album, which despite being written from a current perspective, contain the sense that popular lyrics have always had: they explain life with the small letters of the everyday. And all this is presented in the bomba genre. Impure. There is an African guitar, a pedal steel guitar, a Wurlitzer, an accordion and everything that Marina and Miguelito Superstar, the album's producer, thought was necessary to accentuate the musicality of a full voice and drums that resonate raw with the vibration of tradition. A tradition now in the hands of a woman who aspires to her own space in life, to write her own chapter.

For their second album 'The Foel Tower', Quade holed up in an old stone barn in the cradle of a Welsh mountain valley.
The valley was a stark and windswept backdrop with little daylight, as the band would huddle around crackling fires each evening. “There was very much a feeling of being on the complete fringes of society,” the band says. “The last vestiges of settlement before the unrelenting barren moors that loomed over us.”
It was an environment that would shape the band – a Bristol four piece made up of Barney Matthews, Leo Fini, Matt Griffiths and Tom Connolly – and the record they have made. It’s an album that is as dreamy as it is melancholic, and as quiet and tender as it is forceful and potent – gliding across genres like winds blowing over those wide-spanning Welsh hills – to arrive at something the band half-jokingly, yet somewhat accurately, describe as “doomer sad boy, ambient-dub, folk, experimental post-rock.”

Quade is a band but it’s also a very close-knit group that have been friends since childhood who use this musical vehicle for interpersonal explorations and connections. “We’ve individually experienced a lot of difficulty over the last several years and Quade has represented a space to shelter from these,” the band says. “This means we often communicate extensively with each other about the issues affecting us individually and collectively. These conversations and concerns are central to The Foel Tower.”

In many ways, the making of this record – or any Quade record – goes way deeper than the simple writing, construction and recording of music. It is a profoundly deep and meaningful experience. “A key theme of the album relates to why we connect with specific places in the way that we do,” the group says. “We often remove ourselves to isolated valleys, sheltered from some of the painful personal struggles that we have experienced as a band. These become spaces in which we collectively purge ourselves of some of these difficulties hoping to make Quade a physical and emotional place of solace. This album celebrates these places that we’ve been able to retreat to and recuperate.”

It is a deep, dense record that is stuffed with musical, cinematic and literary influences – from Ursula La Guin and Cormac MacCarthy through to RS Thomas and Yeats – but despite the heavy, introspective and anxious nature of some of the material, it is also a record that is remarkably deft, agile and considered.

Made with producer Jack Ogborne and mixer Larry ‘Bruce’ McCarthy, there is a pleasing duality to the final sound of the record. One that feels fragile and intimate but also powerful and forceful, as introspective as it is expansive, and a record that is as detailed and textured as it is wide open and spacious.

The album title also pays homage to the place that shaped it so greatly. Within this remote Welsh valley stands the Foel Tower, a stone structure filled with valves and cylinders that can raise and lower the level of the reservoir to draw off water. Which it can then send as far as 70 miles to Birmingham. However, in the late 1800s this land was occupied by local farmers and families in the hundreds until the British Government acquired the land, cleared the valleys, and promptly displaced them in order to begin serving the vastly expanding industrial English city. The band dug into the history and politics of this and wove it into the themes they were already thinking about, using what the Foel Tower stands for as something of a contemporary metaphor. “This tension was something that we wanted to explore without the haughty judgement of our more metropolitan lifestyles,” they say. “And to explore how this specifically relates to ourselves: how can we envisage a genuinely ecological future for ourselves – one that is accessible, affordable and in harmony with endangered rural practices.”

What makes The Foel Tower such an incredible record is that it feels born of a time, place and situation that only existed in that very moment. It’s a snapshot of those 10 days spent in rural Wales and all the feelings and anxieties the band were experiencing at that specific time, magically caught on tape. “The album very much feels tied to this valley for us and the conversations and experiences we shared there,” they say. “It brings up a great deal of poignancy for us, an emblem of some fleeting respite from the strains we all have to experience. But there’s also deep sadness knowing how transient these moments are – in fact, there’s just a great deal of sadness in this album. But it’s also a record that while personal, resigned, and emotionally burdened, is ultimately hopeful.”

The Ibex Band, with Giovanni Rico and Selam Woldemariam at the creative helm, provided the musical backbone for legends like Aster Aweke, Girma Beyene, Tilahun Gessesse, Mulatu Astatke, and Mahmoud Ahmed, including the iconic album Ere Mela Mela, shaping modern Ethiopian music as we know it today. This 1976 album (Ge’ez Year 1968) played a pivotal role in that legacy and has now resurfaced to set the record straight.

There’s a tendency to talk about the seventies as a golden age of Ethiopian music. There are good reasons for that, and just as good reasons against it. However, the notion of a golden past privileges the role of Western explorers and suggests that the pinnacle of Ethiopia’s musical culture is something only a foreigner can appreciate and unearth. It downplays the complexities of Ethiopia’s culture and history, creating an artificial divide between then and now. And it underestimates the constantly evolving sound that has followed.

The legendary musical outfit The Ibex Band, later metamorphosed into The Roha Band, has played a central role in defining the sound of many of the greatest stars on the music scene of Ethiopia from the mid-seventies onwards–but their golden output has never really waned. The story of the origins of the band that provided the musical backbone for greats such as Aster Aweke, Girma Beyene, Tilahun Gessesse, backing the solo career of group member Mahmoud Ahmed as well as backing Mulatu Astatke and many others has yet to be properly told.

Two misconceptions plague the image of Ethiopian music, one is that the music is pure because it is, by some notion, unexploited, the other is that it is all traditional. To begin with, a combination of political changes between the late sixties and the mid-nineties created an environment where only the most dedicated and skilled musicians struggled on and pursued a musical career against fierce odds. The whole Ibex Band, with Giovanni Rico and Selam “Selamino” Seyoum Woldermarian at the creative helm, are arguably the origo of the vibrant scene in the mid-seventies, and the said pair are foremost responsible for not only navigating the band through troubled times, but also modernizing the 6/8 chickchicka rhythm to a contemporary form. Giovanni laid the rhythmic foundation with heavy looped basslines that reinvented traditional melodies as dance music, and with Selamino’s innovative guitar work they influenced scores of musicians from Abegaz Kibrework Shiota to Henock Temesgen. Even Giovanni’s Fender bass and Selamino’s Gibson guitar inspired younger musicians in their choice of instruments. Not only in choice of instruments but also in sound–even as the digital revolution hit Ethiopian music, a lot of popular music still took its cue from the masters from Ibex and Roha.

Ibex emerged out of the ashes of the sixties group the Soul Echos band, adding Giovanni and Selamino to their ranks and taking their cues from a slew of influences, such as Motown and The Beatles, fused with traditional music. A tighter-knit unit than most bands at the time – Ibex has remained six to seven members throughout their whole career, compared to many bands that were as large as fifteen or sixteen men strong when Ibex set out. Their playing has been viciously focused, economical yet heavy. Just a year before the recording sessions of the album in your hands, Giovanni and Selamino made a contribution to the popular musical lexicon of Ethiopia that was simply defining the popular sound: their arrangement and recording of bandmate Mahmoud Ahmed’s solo effort and real commercial breakthrough tune and eponymous album, Ere Mela Mela, from 1975.

Selamino has never limited himself to being an adroit lead guitarist, but has always been a scholar of history, and as such he has probably contributed as much to modern Ethiopian music with his guitar playing and compositions as with a deepened understanding of modern or contemporary – Zemenawi – Ethiopian music. Selamino’s contributions serve as a metaphor for those of the whole band, at one and the same time creating and defining a new, danceable and updated sound anchored in Giovanni’s bass, whilst also elevating the broader scene through their support for others on the scene and on top of that, increasing the understanding of the music.

There is an understandable desire to romanticize the musical heyday Ibex and Roha were at the forefront of, because so much of the output is sorrowfully hard to come by. Ibex creativity was nothing short of ridiculously fierce compared to many of their Western contemporaries. Based on their sheer recorded output alone they could have usurped the title “hardest working in show business” from James Brown, recording more than 250 albums or 2500 songs in the seventies and eighties. Some only surface as cassettes today, others were never given full LP release, and some are simply impossible to find today. In the light of that, it’s nothing short of a miracle that the recording Stereo Instrumental Music from 1976 (Ge’ez Year 1968) has resurfaced. Unearthed in perfect condition on a chrome cassette, this is musical history comes alive–to set the future straight. Stereo Instrumental Music was recorded in collaboration with Karl-Gustav Lundgren, a Swedish national working for the Radio Voice of the Gospel. It took two sessions at the Ras Hotel ballroom in Addis Ababa. The Ibex Band was the first band in Ethiopia to employ a four-track recorder for their recording (the first available in the country, lent by Karl-Gustav). Later the same week, Giovanni and Selamino realized that, lengthwise, the recorded material fell short of what they wished for, so they recorded four more tracks in one more session on a single-track recorder. The Ras Hotel and Ghion Hotel, where the Ibex Band held musical residencies were to Ethiopia in general and Addis Ababa in particular what Motown was to the USA and Detroit a few years earlier – a hotbed of musical creativity and showmanship.

The most astonishing thing about Ethiopian music of the last half century is how tradition and modernity are intertwined. Because of this feature, it’s kind of hard to tell when there ever was or when we are in a “golden age”. So much of music from the past has been criminally neglected, but because of the hardships in the past, it would be an oversimplification to say that said past was a golden age. Probably, the golden age is what we are approaching, because for the first time both the past and future are accessible, and the monumental contributions from before can lay a firm foundation for a thriving music scene today. The Ibex Band stands firmly in the past, present and the future. That, if anything, is golden.

The detailed history of Stereo Instrumental Music is in many ways unique. To begin with, it couldn’t have been recorded earlier (there were no four-track recorders available) and it really couldn’t have been recorded afterwards either, at least not in the years directly following, because of the toll the musical scene took from the unfavorable political climate that followed when the nascent Derg regime and rival groups tried to assert themselves, the musical equipment lent from The Voice of Gospel Radio simply disappeared from Ethiopia when the radio station folded in 1977. Karl-Gustav Lundgren,
the Swedish foreign national who assisted during the recording, worked with the Ethiopian Evangelical Church Mekane Yesus at the time, recalls how they only had about fifteen minutes to get the microphones in place for the recording as to not alert neither the management at Ras Hotel nor the authorities and most importantly, to complete the recording before the curfew came into effect at midnight. In leaping to the opportunity to use previously unavailable equipment to push their sound forward and improvising to meet the logistical challenges, the Ibex Band displayed the very avant-gardism and adaptability that explains their longevity as a band through the years. The recording of Stereo Instrumental Music is from a given time in history, but it sounds as beyond time.
Much of the energy that burst out of the scene that Stereo Instrumental Music came out of dissipated or got sidetracked during the societal changes Ethiopia went through in the 1970s and 80s. Whilst leaders might have professed to be revolutionary, the work ethic of the Ibex Band can truly be described as that. They never called it quits, but adapted, toured extensively abroad in Africa, Europe, and the Middle East, and found ways to work even in the face of the curfew that curtailed a lot of musical life. They even played major arenas in the nineteen eighties, despite said curfew and restrictions. The whole extent of their legacy has never been told, but their music speaks louder than words, so therefore… tune in to the Ibex Band’s Stereo Instrumental Music.

The signal mutates. Following the first installment, Parallax Effect PT.2 finds Versalife shifting gears, distilling his unmistakable rhythmic instincts into something even more elastic and unpredictable. Smeared low-end and restless sequences coil around a framework of percussive movement, flickering between restraint and momentum. There's an underlying tension--one moment held in suspense, the next unfolding into fluid motion. The machine logic remains intact, but with an organic pulse running through it, shaping each track in real time. A fitting counterweight to PT.1, this second chapter bends the perspective once more, closing the series with a sense of motion still lingering in the air.

Released in late 2012, Odes was the fourth studio album from The Flowers of Hell. It is a covers record and the first release from the group to feature vocals and verse-chorus-verse song structures. Never available on vinyl until now. Greg Jarvis, front man of The Flowers of Hell, has created something very special; the artwork features a die cut outer sleeve, revealing the printed inner sleeve and when removed, revealing more artwork on the inside of the 300gsm outer sleeve. The music has been remastered for LP by Odes co-producer Peter Moore.Pressed in a red 180g heavyweight vinyl, the whole package is stickered and poly bagged, a real show stopper!

Almost Like You Could ignites its art punk fire with Lucy Alexander proclaiming, “Everyone wants something to talk about / But not a minute to spare, so be brief.” Not surprising from a song that’s 1:54 (‘Higher’), but the raw honesty in her lyrics ring far after the music ends. Alexander, along with bandmate Luke Cartledge, place the propulsive power of their beliefs at the core of their debut full-length album, and their guiding motivation towards social justice is as fierce as it is welcoming. “Living as part of the queer community, and being queer myself, leads me towards supporting every person’s truth,” Alexander says. Scrounge’s songs skip to a fast beat, electrifying the entire album with a sense of empowerment. Their approach is OG punk: they make music for their peers and themselves. Only now, with a world of connections possible, they’re able to open arms wide for a far-reaching embrace. Alexander’s rich vocals give their sound its central force, anchoring the songs with confessional lines (“If this is the pinnacle, then I need a miracle/ Cause everyone’s laughing at me,” “There’s not much left/ this corpse I have to keep/ Above board.”). They sing about economic inequality, political corruption, environmental destruction, and collective change. “We’re inspired by those around us, and we write about what we care about. Art has always existed for us as a means of catharsis, a way of expressing something we might not be able to otherwise, and we hope our music can be that for other people too,” says Alexander. “I think I’ve actually written a filthy banger,” she states while re-listening to “Buzz/Cut”, a grunge-honoring hammer of a song that takes a journey from disappointment, to self-realization, to release. Alexander and Cartledge’s gratification in making an album they’re proud of mirrors the empowerment conveyed in their lyrics. A follow-up to debut mini-album Sugar, Daddy (Fierce Panda, 2022), Almost Like You Could came together over 18 months, in between “teaching, touring, graduation, and a wedding”, as Lucy explains, for the band always has a handful of shows coming up. It’s a strange outcome for a duo who first bonded over their mutual love of SOPHIE. “She radicalized the structure of sound, and revealed herself through it,” Cartledge explains. “That was a massive inspiration when we started playing together, stripping everything away to open up new possibilities as artists and as people." Having already toured Europe and the States, Scrounge is preparing to be on the road throughout 2025. In a world where the idea of true community is ephemeral, Lucy and Luke seek to foster it everywhere they play. And their belief in change is ultimately buoyed by hope. “I know that it’s never been this good,” they sing.

'Liberation' ist das neue Album der Blueskünstlerin ZZ Ward, auf dem sie ihre Liebe zum Blues zelebriert. Das Album ist ihre dritte Veröffentlichung bei Sun Records und vereint Eigenkompositionen wie 'Mother', ein Song über ihre neue Rolle als berufstätige Mutter, mit Coverversionen von Klassikern wie 'Grinnin' In Your Face' von Son House. ZZs kühne Stimme glänzt auch bei ihrer Interpretation von Songs aus dem historischen Sun-Katalog, wie 'Cadillac Man' von The Jesters und 'Something You Got' von Alvin Robinson.

- Ltd Col. LP: (Psychedelic Waves Vinyl mit bedruckter Innenhülle)

On ‘Cordial’, Ursula Sereghy traces the sensation of home; not as a place, but as something fleeting and deeply felt. Comfort appears in glimpses, nestled between moments of dissonance and unraveling structure. There is joy, but it carries the weight of absence, the quiet grief of realizing what was missing all along. A laughter that is both liberating and bittersweet.

Sereghy’s music moves with no fixed center, shedding hierarchies and opening itself to the unknown. Sounds unravel and reform: fragments of voices, reshaped textures, the shimmer of manipulated recordings all bending into semi-familiar contours. In this space, harmony is not a destination but an unfolding process, a web of shifting connections rather than rigid form.

Deeply drawn to natural processes, Sereghy’s music resonates with an elemental force: chemical reactions, unseen currents, the quiet logic of interconnection. Sound becomes a space where trust takes shape, where loss is acknowledged but never final, and where the act of feeling remains, above all, an act of survival. It is music in constant negotiation with itself - dismantling, reshaping, and reaching towards something vast, untethered and luminous.