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Since the release of DAMAGED in 2024, Michael Fiedler aka GHOST DUBS has been surfing intensifying waves of adulation, earning praise from such diverse underground legends as Justin Broadrick (Godflesh/Jesu), Regis, Stefan Betke (Pole) and Steve Von Till (Neurosis). With second album Oblique, his mastery of sculpting sound waves results in a spellbinding set of alien soundscapes: larger in scale, richer in tone and considerably more cinematic than its predecessor. Lower, deeper and moodier, its cloudy abstractions, shadowy pulsations and submerged rhythms find Fiedler reaching further into his own sonic void, crafting blurred melodies and addictive narco loops into something simultaneously heavyweight and hypnotic. Album opener "Low Times" sets the atmospheric pressure to maximum, resembling a dream date between prime dirt-house era Andy Stott and Berlin dub-tech pioneers Basic Channel. From there, Oblique descends into a series of enchanting mood scenes: the furtive, balletic gyrations of "After All", the haunting ambience and buried heartbeat throb of "Soft Collapse", and the noirish atmospherics of "Blackout Dust", which worms its way into the mind like some forgotten David Lynch scene. The spirit of reggae is more distanced here than on DAMAGED, but the ghost of Jamaican dub still permeates these foggy soundscapes, particularly on "Bombed Suburbs", where Augustus Pablo-style melodicism is chopped, screwed and slowed into a magnetic lock groove. Superficially minimal but maximal in its minute detail, Oblique is a record of contorted reflections, mesmeric echoes and tantalising audio mirages. By the vaporous mist of closing track "Almost a Structure", obvious rhythm has been craftily filtered away, leaving a blurred and blunted residue full of mystery and implied narrative. Dense in the best possible sense and crushing when played loud yet equally potent played quiet, Oblique imagines dub techno burning its own rigid rulebook: sensual, funky and concussive rather than dry or alienating. "Second album from electronic producer Michael Fiedler's GHOST DUBS project. "Follows up from the highly-acclaimed 'Implosion' album with The Bug from 2025. "Debut album 'Damaged' sold out its three initial pressings and has just been repressed "Michael Fiedler recently scored 'Sound of Falling' which won a Cannes award in 2025 and made the shortlist for an Oscar, too.

South African multi-instrumentalist Mpumi Dhlamini’s Nebula Nomad explores themes of deep inner reflection and cosmic wonder. The EP puts three tracks from the 2024 album on vinyl for the first time: two reimagined versions of earlier compositions ‘The Higher Being’ and ‘Sibusise Nkosi’, along with ‘Culmination’. Dhlamini writes, produces and performs all vocals and instruments, with contributions from Mzizi, Tendai 'Shoxx' Shoko, Ayo Solanke, Sibusiso Mkhize, Zoe The Seed and Sphelelo Mazibuko. A brief introduction to a remarkable talent at the vanguard of South African spiritual jazz who has battled adversity and come out stronger, with something important to say.

With Where We’re At, Tonique & Man deliver a warm and vibrant second album blending indie pop, soul and soft disco. Staying true to the groove that has become the duo’s signature, the record reveals a more mature and personal side of Jean Tonique and Mi Man.


Both recently becoming fathers, the two musicians are entering a new chapter in their lives, one that naturally shapes the album’s songwriting: a more intimate reflection on how far they’ve come, what they’ve built, and what continues to drive them to create.


Recorded at the legendary Studio Ferber in Paris, Where We’re At also features collaborations with Girl Ultra and Rejjie Snow, bringing new textures to the duo’s sound. An elegant and generous album where pop immediacy meets more intimate songwriting, opening a new chapter for Tonique & Man.

The unconscious element to the conscious process.

The practice of dub techno and its tendrils is a fundamental for me, both aesthetically and from an engineering perspective.

I start every recording session with a dub inspired jam, the first piece I ever recorded in 1996 was an effort to recreate Phylyps Trak with only a Korg X3 and an Ibanez PUE5 (borrowed from Gary Howell). It was an awesome introduction to jamming, and the footing stones of noise, delay and saturation were explored with my foot hard on the enthusiasm pedal.

These practice jams are in some sense cathartic, the first step taken again & again, which helps me move forwards each session and additionally helps to 'warm the circuits' both of myself and the machines.

After realising the genius of Basic Channel is akin to the genius of peasant food, using every ingredient with nothing left to waste, (up to and including the oft maligned working noise of the machines themselves), this was a watershed moment for my own subjective progression. No longer tied to just emulation of something inspiring, but taking these learned tools into other areas of music helped to break free from a strong current of influence and also to progress into other areas with the new toolbox.

Dub:

The importance of the dub pioneers should never be understated, in modern music and my own practice. Yet with my initial inspiration being two german dudes issuing extreme techno variants with obscured label designs, who then signposted their listeners to their own inspirations (via their Wackies re-issues or nodded to on their Rhythm & Sound/Burial Mix sub-labels), meant that I started late and travelled backwards.

Learning to notice the live mixing of Mikey Dread or Lee Perry when the faders are bleeding through even when turned down, (echoed in BC's Quadrant Dub), or the brash send effects literally thrown into the mix also taught me that 'rough' mixing can inject a recording with life, uniqueness and the most right wrongness. Looking back Basic Channels very few elements helped me realise that the rules to be understood, are also the best ones to be broken.

Push the mixer into the red.

Amp that noise up from the tape delay cos it sounds sick.

Pseudo side-chain effects cos the kicks are way too loud and the mixer can't sum it nicely.

Spam the send knob into the delay units now, now and now.

Carelessness.

Noise:

Once I wrapped my head around the intrinsic 'noise' element that set those records apart, this became a torchlight into the alt noise movements which I was tentatively exploring at the time, and also is evidently a connection or thread into them.

Whether the Industrial/Post Punk UK scene (This Heat, TG, A Tent, F.E.) or the prolific output of the US Noise scene (Wolf Eyes, Live & Shave in LA, and subsequently following the lineage all the way back to Chrome's Alien Soundtracks), I had finally discovered a connection from techno to this 'free for all' corner of music.

This input from the Noise arena of sound is, in my experience, an all important step for a sonic artist, taking it's roots and extending out from Stockhausen/Pierre Henry and utilised/warped/mangled by thousands of adventurous pioneers ever since, I now see the line separating the high brow and the low brow is actually an artery carrying information from the head to the heart.

Vault is a selection of these jams that precede each of my solo recording sessions, for 30 years I've recorded hundreds of these 'workouts'. They are never intended as serious statements, just moments of naive enjoyment, yet most importantly they are time & space captured as practice.

The objective is always a warm up exercise, but sometimes those exercises turn a different corner, with a certain focus or direction dependent on what random samples are left in my machines from the previous session, instead of conscious choices, these unconscious elements can facilitate those 'positive mistakes' that make a piece of sound retain a different feel or colour and thus become special, or at least special to the creator.

I am quite conscious that the 'record everything' aspect of my ethos has been invaluable in cataloguing and saving these jams, while the attitude of carelessness during this process (after all, it's only a warm up jam) invites more enjoyment than seriousness ever could. Even if you don't feel the piece at the time, record it, because some years later it may well fit, or become relevant in a way you never intended.

-Miles

2026 Repress

Symmetry is proud to announce the arrival of Solid State Vol. 1 - a special vinyl release from Break. Due to popular demand, we’ve compiled four standout tracks, including some fan favourites that until now were only available digitally.

The EP brings together a serious collection: Release Me, which hit number 1 on Beatport; Overstayed, Symmetry’s highest selling tune on Bandcamp; alongside two more heavyweight cuts, All You Gotta Do and Zodiac.

Pressed and presented in physical form, Solid State Vol. 1 is both a collector’s piece and a must-have for DJs - and this time it’s something you can hold in your hands.

Frenchman Franck Roger seems to be in something of a purple patch right now, with a steady stream of succulent deep house vibes flowing from his studio, most often on Seasons Limited. 'In Motion' is a perfect set builder with its traditional deep house groove infused with whimsical melodies and a sprinkling of percussion that gets you ready for more. 'SH Time' is named after a choice piece of Roger's studio gear and swirls with lovely smeared pads, and '6th Track' closes with some persuasive swing and just the right amount of vocal heat. Early doors, late at night, outdoors in the sun, this is a useful EP for real house heads.

“Tough love is a sonic dark romantic experience. Each song represents a different form of “Tough love”. A dark romance in Hollywood. Growing up in LA at the age of 17, now being 23 I’ve experienced a lot and learned so much about my self and love itself. All of these songs are written either about my own experiences, lessons and who I am today or inspired by a fantasy I’ve created in my mind and heart. These love songs tell the truth of what I desire and crave deeply, a love that is exciting and passionate and impossible to find in Hollywood, writing these songs are the closest I’ll ever get to living it. Words are spells. Songs are spells. I love writing about love because though it’s fleeting in those moments while I’m creating the record, its true. I live in it, feel it on my skin, close my eyes, taste it and make it real. Whether it’s something I want, something I had, something I’m missing, it is mine all the same. Tough love is about the darkest and toughest parts of love, songs for those themselves who are tough to love, and songs for love that’s tough to find.

Sonically I was inspired by, Massive attack, Portishead, Fleetwood Mac, Eagles, Alice in chains, nostalgic music from the 70s through the 90s and add my own dark twists. ” - Nessa Barrett

The Version of Me You Get is a record about perspective, how life changes you, and who you are on the other side of it. Written and recorded in 2020 alongside longtime collaborator Sean McConnell, the album was born out of a rare stillness - a week spent holed up in the studio, building songs piece by piece with no outside noise and no deadline. Bowen had never had that kind of time with a record before. The result was something unhurried, deeply considered and wholly their own. Then life picked back up, and the album sat. Five years later, Bowen returned to the recordings and found something he didn't expect: the songs had grown. What was captured in 2020 as honest and uncertain had become something richer — shaped by everything that followed, personally and professionally. The distance didn't diminish the record. It deepened it. Spanning love, struggle, redemption, and vulnerability, The Version of Me You Get didn't just capture a moment in time, it gained meaning because of what came after. These songs finally found their moment. And it turns out, the wait made them better.

The method is instability.

— Violeta Garcia & Hora Lunga

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

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

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

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

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

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

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

The Intermittent Signal is the sound of resistance.

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

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

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

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

The Intermittent Signal is the sound of resistance.

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

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

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

,Our Final Album - Vol. 1" ist das vierte Album von Glenn Morrow's Cry For Help und zeigt die Band aus Hoboken, New Jersey, auf dem Höhepunkt ihrer Kreativität. Obwohl der Titel einen Abschied suggeriert, präsentiert das Album eine lebendige und vielseitige Sammlung von elf neuen Songs, die von klassischem Gitarrenrock über gefühlvolle Balladen bis hin zu Bossa-Nova- und Soul-Einflüssen reichen. Angeführt wird die Band von Glenn Morrow, einer Schlüsselfigur der unabhängigen US-Musikszene, der als Musiker, Journalist und langjähriger Betreiber des Indie-Labels Bar/None Records bekannt wurde. Gemeinsam mit Bassist Mike Rosenberg, Gitarrist Ric Sherman und Schlagzeuger Ron Metz greift Morrow auf jahrzehntelange Erfahrung in der traditionsreichen Hoboken-Musikszene zurück. Aufgenommen wurde das Album erneut im Magic Door Studio von Produzent Ray Ketchem, der besonders das Gespür der Band für eingängige Melodien und starkes Songwriting hervorhebt. Unterstützung erhält die Band diesmal vom renommierten Keyboarder Andrew Burton, dessen Beiträge den Songs zusätzliche Tiefe und Klangfarben verleihen. Musikalisch verbindet ,Our Final Album - Vol. 1" kraftvolle Rocksongs wie ,That's That", ,Beatle Bones" und ,Into Something New" mit nachdenklicheren Momenten wie ,Stop Your Crying", dem Bossa-Stück ,Boom Boom" oder dem souligen ,Let's Stay In Bed". Dabei ziehen sich Glenn Morrows persönliche Geschichten, Lebenserfahrungen und eine leichte Melancholie durch das gesamte Album. Das Ergebnis ist ein abwechslungsreiches, warmes und zeitloses Rockalbum, das die Stärke einer Band zeigt, die auch nach vielen Jahren nichts von ihrer Leidenschaft verloren hat.

Nach der Breakout-EP „Discount Fireworks“ haben Roman Candle ihren Sound konsequent weiterentwickelt. Die jüngsten Singles zeigen eine Band, die emotionale Direktheit mit kontrolliertem Chaos verbindet; „Can We Watch Something Happy?“ basiert auf persönlichen Erfahrungen von Piper und unterstreicht den ungefilterten erzählerischen Ansatz der Band.

Modi Bardo, an alumnus of Moonshine Recordings, is another who on the surface appears to be at the nascent era of their sound experiments, but in truth is a longtime explorer of outer realms of Dub.

There is much to mention here which can be uncovered with the correct keywords, but one of the early bright points would be Spacelings and Bassheads, the Detroit-based Psych duo Modi Bardo was half of, who although seemingly limited in the realms of recorded output (with only a compilation appearance each via the Electro visionaries Interdimensional Transmissions and Booty bass / Techno orientated Intuit-Solar) where in fact not-so-limited in the era in the way of public performance, even performing at the renowned Packard Plant renegades in the 90's with UR on occasion.

Forward to now, and Modi Bardo has created something that reaches for unknown territory in Dub. With an establishing A side that is deep and primordial in tone, a' la Challenger Deep and Babe Roots releases, this proves to be merely a fantastic tone setter for the B side, which seems to find a zone where Dub Techno, Half Time, and Autonomic DnB have not quite gleaned yet. Truly a record unlike any other, while somehow being an invaluable tool for DJ's exploring the links between the aforementioned sounds and even Dancehall and Jungle in the mix.

A must for all those chasing the evolution of dub reflective arts, and the adventurous DJ in general.

At the outset of the project, Jupp assembled a palette of instruments and sounds which evoke a moment in musical history when digital studio technology just started to take over from analogue. Eschewing Belbury Poly’s earlier mid 70s obsessions, to focus on that period around 1983, when artists who could afford it started to experiment with samplers. It was a musical moment dominated by the sounds of Prophet 5, DX7 & PPG synthesizers, Fairlight & Synclavier music computers, TR808 drum machine & Simmons Drums (those ubiquitous hexagonal drum pads) and of course the much-maligned fretless bass.

It’s also an era that’s now seen as something of a golden age for fantasy, sci-fi, comics, book, TV, movies and games (particularly in Britain where it was often fuelled by a post punk reaction to Thatcher’s regime). In Jupp’s memory these things go hand in hand; as a child his nerdy fandom was soundtracked not as it was for most by Heavy Metal, but by the electronic pop of Bill Nelson, Yellow Magic Orchestra, Japan, and Frank Chickens. Also, by otherworldly TV soundtracks & production music of the era: Elizabeth Parker and Paddy Kingsland at the BBC, The Parry Music Library, Rod Argent’s new age library albums and even Clannad’s Robin of Sherwood score.

Repress

Released in August 2020 to much acclaim, as well as receiving many accolades as one of the best albums of 2020, Duval Timothy present Help (2021 edition).

This new and limited edition will be released independently by Duval Timothy’s Carrying Colour label, fashion brand and shop. It comes on 2 x 140g milky clear vinyl, with new 2 x 12" square posters and shrink-wrapped.

Help was recorded in London and Los Angeles, and reveals the artists' experience traversing the meshes of the music industry, mental health, YouTube self-help videos, and the healing he discovered through friendship and collaboration. Co-produced by Rodaidh McDonald (King Krule, The XX) and Marta Salogni (Bjork), with collaborations from Lil Silva, Melanie Faye, Vegyn, Desta Haile, Mr Mitch, Dave Okumo, and Twin Shadow amongst others.

Duval Timothy is a multidisciplinary artist, whose practise is centred around colour and involves the use of music, photography, textiles, painting, sculpture, design, cooking and video. In between delivering a celebrated cookbook for Penguin Books, and an interactive installation at Tate Modern Turbine Hall, Duval makes music, which is sampled by the likes of Solange and Loyle Carner and collaborates frequetly with cktrl, Vegyn, Kwes, and Mr Mitch.

Ancient spirits come alive as SKÁLD extend an invitation into times long gone but not forgotten. Ørlǫg, coming September 25, 2026, is their first album via Napalm Records, and it is our destiny. As the Norns weave our future, this album is a fascinating passageway into our pristine origins and the consequences of our choices. Ten new songs as stepping stones, Ørlǫg is an offering to listen, to dwell, to reflect—and to find something within yourself previously unknown. SKÁLD don’t just play music, they awaken ancient ways.

Abramelin’s self-titled 1995 debut is a landmark in the Australian Death Metal scene, featuring some of the heaviest riffs ever recorded Down Under and deranged lyrics brimming with unbridled brutality and violence! Australian Death Metal for the most part has been really solid. Abramelin does nothing to deter from that thought and “Abramelin” is known by many death metal fans as a classic. These Aussies laid forth a chunk of brutal death metal in 1995. Around that time, the established sound of the Florida scene and even in other areas such as Sweden had begun to morph into something else as bands attempted to prevent stagnation. One such new avenue of creativity was to simply get heavier, louder, and more punishing, and by those standards Abramelin’s self-titled debut delivers on every level. Now available again on CD and vinyl, this long overdue re-issue brings back a true underground classic from one of Australia’s most overlooked Death Metal bands.

The third album from Max McNown, Leave On A Light, reveals a rare artist whose breakout success has brought him even closer to his truest instincts. Amid an explosive ascent that solidified his status as one of his generation’s most compelling singer/songwriters, the Oregon native came to a deeper conviction in music’s power to honor what matters most, such as the people and values who anchor his life. Born from a year of extraordinary momentum—including completing his sold-out, continent-hopping headline tour—Leave On A Light ultimately finds McNown more grounded than ever in his artistic vision, arriving as the fullest expression yet of his singular songwriting voice.

Errands is the first duo recording from Marja Ahti, Swedish-Finnish sound artist and electroacoustic composer, and John McCowen, a native of Southern Illinois, now residing in Iceland, whose work centres on a radical exploration of clarinet multiphonics. Working without the aid of electronics, McCowen has spent years finessing performance techniques that allow him to layer beating patterns and split tones that belie their source in a monophonic instrument. Ahti, in contrast, has built up a stunning body of work in recent years using a classic electroacoustic palette of electronic, field recordings and instrumental sounds. Sharing a bill at the 2024 iteration of Stockholm’s Edition Festival, the pair discovered a sensibility shared across their different sonic means, beginning the collaborative process that would eventually result in the mercurial side-long pieces heard on Errands.

The word ‘errand’ suggests something purposeful but routine, and Ahti’s and McCowen’s work is suffused with the everyday. Meeting with McCowen to record in Iceland, Ahti used the opportunity to gather field recordings, capturing not the natural sublimity often associated with the country—think Chris Watson’s shifting glaciers—but everyday life in Reykjavik. Snatches of bustling streets and what could be humming engines thread between static sinewaves, stretches of clarinet resonances and fleeting textures, the latter often at once visceral and impossible to identify. Errands: we are a long way from the grandiose framing devices favoured by the pioneers of electroacoustic music, yet many of their principles are at work here. The gradual metamorphosis of one sound into another, the carefully achieved ambiguity between the acoustic and electronic, the treatment of the stereo field as a compositional element: all of these link Ahti and McCowen’s music to the electroacoustic tradition, yet their sensibility is radically different. The overall effect is a kind of stillness, but one at peace with continuous change. Like the unwieldy but somehow stylish everyday forms captured in the Hertta Kiiski photographs that adorn the record's sleeve, the music seems to prize a kind of deliberate awkwardness, interrupting static held textures not with an abrupt cut, but with a quick fade, suddenly revealing background as foreground.

Ahti and McCowen’s world is everyday and unornamented, but also shadowed by the numinous. Halfway through 'Chorales', we hear an arrangement for overdubbed recorders of an early motet of Messiaen’s, O sacrum convivium! Played on recorders, the piece shrinks into delicacy and dim memories of childhood music lessons, while at the same time its harmonies retain the grandeur of their liturgical origin. This double quality inflects much of what follows on Errands, including snatches of field-recorded water or air, which seem at once elemental and domestic. Enlivened with countless details that repay repeated relistening, Errands is a record that leaves the listener ready to open their ears anew to their own sound environment.

‘The Art Of Loving’ is a tender, intentional deep dive into the many dimensions of love – romantic, platonic, self, and everything in between. The album features the singles, ‘Nice To Each Other’, 'Man I Need' and ' Baby Steps'

Picture the scene - October 2025, while staying at a friend’s apartment in Chennai, Gavsborg created umpteen ideas and contacted his good friend and bassist from back home, Delroy Pele Fyah Hamilton to collaborate. Hamilton, now based in Singapore performs and records regularly with F.Y .A.H. (successor band from Raging Fyah).

Both Blair and Hamilton share a love for Caribbean music. With this foundation the two set out to create something a bit different that sits between Bouyon, Dancehall & Dennery. The amalgamation resulted in this unique four-track instrumental EP . While the track titles are packed with broader Caribbean references, the project name and title track is an ode to the 90s dancehall pioneers, “Black Roses Crew” , who were based in Arnett Gardens (aka Jungle), Kingston, Jamaica, one of the important homes of 90s dancehall. Roses helped shape dancehall culture through dance, style, crew affiliation, and performance, largely soundtracked by Computer Paul’s Corduroy Riddim with Gerald Levy aka Bogle being the poster human.

Arnett Gardens (Jungle) is one of the key engines that produced the version of dancehall both Gavsborg and Pele draw here from. Think tight, bubbling, bouncing riddims, rolling basslines unlike anything you’ve heard before. Jamaican Dance Music for the movers and shakers

Hypnos , a new collection of his own mesmerising compositions, enchants us with sublime, atmospheric guitar intricacies beautifully constructed over soul- drenched hammond sound-beds. "With Hypnos , I wanted to create something paired back and super simple. These pieces were initially written as etudes for solo guitar, and they reflect the wide range of influences found in the music I love to listen to. A life spent listening to Django Reinhardt and Philip Glass! The inclusion of the Hammond organ came from a desire to pair the nylon- string guitar with an instrument you don't usually hear alongside it. For me, the Hammond evokes gospel and the classic organ trios of Wes Montgomery - it's a soulful, funk sonic and very spiritual. It was a real blessing to have Nathaniel Ledwidge play Hammond on the record and to showcase the softer side of this iconic instrument. Hypnos is the Greek god of sleep, the father of Morpheus, the god of dreams. Is the music dreamy and hypnotic, a brief slumberous escape from the madness out there? I hope so." - Robin Katz It's available as a limited- pressing 180g vinyl 'Gearbox Cut' LP and gatefold CD digi sleeve with obi strip & photo insert.

A side is a trip... Bloody experience...
Like I say "if a record does not have something to say... then abort !"
Here frequencies becomes weapons !
Screwdrivers for solid brains !

The flip brings 2 Speedcore at same speed for a deejay pleasure, as expected with this vinyl only project !

The name of the EP in in memory of parties organised between 1994 and 1995 where the music was...

Enjoy !

Mastered by ArmguetNad.
Cut at The Exchange.
Visuals by Artcoton

Colorize presents 22, the debut album from California-based producer, DJ and yoga teacher mölly, a deeply personal body of work shaped by connection, surrender and healing.

Bloodstain gehört zu den vielversprechendsten jungen Heavy-Metal-Bands, die in den letzten Jahren aus Schweden hervorgegangen sind. Die Ende 2023 in Stockholm gegründete Band hat sich schnell einen Namen gemacht, indem sie die Grundlagen des klassischen Metal und Hard Rock mit der Dringlichkeit, dem Selbstbewusstsein und dem Bühneninstinkt einer modernen Live-Band verbindet. Anstatt sich auf einen eng gefassten Revivalismus zu verlassen, schöpft Bloodstain aus einer breiteren Heavy-Metal-Tradition – kraftvolle Riffs, einprägsame Hooks, dynamisches Songwriting und ein klares Verständnis dafür, wie Songs sowohl auf Platte als auch auf größeren Bühnen rüberkommen müssen.
Ihr selbstbetiteltes Debütalbum „Bloodstain“ ist das erste umfassende Statement zur Identität der Band. Es präsentiert eine junge Band mit klarer Ausrichtung: diszipliniertes Songwriting, ein unverwechselbares visuelles Profil und ein Ehrgeiz, der bereits über die Clubebene hinausreicht. Während das Material die Wucht und Direktheit klassischer Heavy-Musik in sich trägt, verleihen die Entscheidungen bei Produktion und Arrangement der Platte eine zeitgemäße Kraft, die sie fest in der Gegenwart und nicht in der Vergangenheit verankert.
Das von Alex Hellid, Per Aldeheim und der Band selbst produzierte Album erscheint mit einer Geschichte, die in Presse, Handel und Exportkanälen großen Anklang findet. Bloodstain ist nicht einfach nur eine Band mit starken Songs, sondern eine Band mit Schwung. Frühe Veröffentlichungen sorgten sofort für Aufmerksamkeit, ihre visuelle Identität ist bereits klar definiert, und ihre Live-Präsenz wächst durch immer präsentere Auftritte und strategisch gewählte Vorgruppen-Slots weiter. Beim Sweden Rock Festival und beim Hellfest reagierte das Publikum bereits auf unveröffentlichtes Material, was unterstreicht, dass die Musik der Band in Echtzeit ankommt und sich nicht allein auf ihre Positionierung verlässt.
Was Bloodstain in dieser Phase auszeichnet, ist die Kombination aus Jugend, Klarheit und Bereitschaft. Die Band wirkt frisch, agiert jedoch mit einem Maß an Organisation und Zielstrebigkeit, das das Vertrauen der Branche weckt. Es entwickelt sich bereits eine Sammlermentalität rund um das Projekt, ein wachsender Direktkanal zu den Fans und eine klare Fähigkeit, zu skalieren, ohne dabei die Identität zu verlieren.
Damit ist „Bloodstain“ nicht nur ein starkes künstlerisches Debüt, sondern auch ein strategisch bedeutendes Album, das ein Publikum aus den Bereichen Hard Rock, Heavy Metal und moderner, riffgetriebener Metal-Musik erreichen kann, ohne durch eine enge Genre-Schublade eingeschränkt zu sein.

Bloodstain gehört zu den vielversprechendsten jungen Heavy-Metal-Bands, die in den letzten Jahren aus Schweden hervorgegangen sind. Die Ende 2023 in Stockholm gegründete Band hat sich schnell einen Namen gemacht, indem sie die Grundlagen des klassischen Metal und Hard Rock mit der Dringlichkeit, dem Selbstbewusstsein und dem Bühneninstinkt einer modernen Live-Band verbindet. Anstatt sich auf einen eng gefassten Revivalismus zu verlassen, schöpft Bloodstain aus einer breiteren Heavy-Metal-Tradition – kraftvolle Riffs, einprägsame Hooks, dynamisches Songwriting und ein klares Verständnis dafür, wie Songs sowohl auf Platte als auch auf größeren Bühnen rüberkommen müssen.
Ihr selbstbetiteltes Debütalbum „Bloodstain“ ist das erste umfassende Statement zur Identität der Band. Es präsentiert eine junge Band mit klarer Ausrichtung: diszipliniertes Songwriting, ein unverwechselbares visuelles Profil und ein Ehrgeiz, der bereits über die Clubebene hinausreicht. Während das Material die Wucht und Direktheit klassischer Heavy-Musik in sich trägt, verleihen die Entscheidungen bei Produktion und Arrangement der Platte eine zeitgemäße Kraft, die sie fest in der Gegenwart und nicht in der Vergangenheit verankert.
Das von Alex Hellid, Per Aldeheim und der Band selbst produzierte Album erscheint mit einer Geschichte, die in Presse, Handel und Exportkanälen großen Anklang findet. Bloodstain ist nicht einfach nur eine Band mit starken Songs, sondern eine Band mit Schwung. Frühe Veröffentlichungen sorgten sofort für Aufmerksamkeit, ihre visuelle Identität ist bereits klar definiert, und ihre Live-Präsenz wächst durch immer präsentere Auftritte und strategisch gewählte Vorgruppen-Slots weiter. Beim Sweden Rock Festival und beim Hellfest reagierte das Publikum bereits auf unveröffentlichtes Material, was unterstreicht, dass die Musik der Band in Echtzeit ankommt und sich nicht allein auf ihre Positionierung verlässt.
Was Bloodstain in dieser Phase auszeichnet, ist die Kombination aus Jugend, Klarheit und Bereitschaft. Die Band wirkt frisch, agiert jedoch mit einem Maß an Organisation und Zielstrebigkeit, das das Vertrauen der Branche weckt. Es entwickelt sich bereits eine Sammlermentalität rund um das Projekt, ein wachsender Direktkanal zu den Fans und eine klare Fähigkeit, zu skalieren, ohne dabei die Identität zu verlieren.
Damit ist „Bloodstain“ nicht nur ein starkes künstlerisches Debüt, sondern auch ein strategisch bedeutendes Album, das ein Publikum aus den Bereichen Hard Rock, Heavy Metal und moderner, riffgetriebener Metal-Musik erreichen kann, ohne durch eine enge Genre-Schublade eingeschränkt zu sein.

For his debut on Hard Times Records, Manchester's FLETCH delivers 'Lift Me Up’ - a four-track EP rooted in rolling grooves, warm musicality and a refined dancefloor energy.

The release follows a busy run for FLETCH, with releases on Circoloco, Three Six Zero, MVSON and ANOTR's No Art, where his Play House EP reached the top of the download charts. His connection with Hard Times began behind the decks at the label's sold-out Miami Winter Music Conference showcase, where a shared appreciation for the music soon developed into plans for a release.

"After playing for the Hard Times crew in Miami, I told them how I'd been a fan of the label for years and that i’d love to release something with them one day," says FLETCH. "I sent over some tracks that I felt were a natural fit and the guys signed them on the spot. The rest, as they say, is history!"

The title track sets the tone for the EP with rolling drums, elastic basslines and understated vocal hooks, while 'Stand Up’ leans into swung percussion and classic chord stabs. On the B-side, 'Touch Me' shifts into deeper territory with stripped-back, late-night groove, before '1000 Years' closes the EP with dusty scratches, crisp hats and an understated sense of drive.

Since its digital release, lead track "Lift You Up" has received strong support on BBC R1, plus heavy DJ support from the likes of TSHA, Hilit Kolet, Laurent Garnier, Jamie Jones, Groove Armada, Riva Starr, and more.

FLETCH's sound continues to evolve while remaining firmly rooted in the traditions of house, making 'Lift Me Up' the perfect debut on Hard Times.

MYKI joins Craigie Knowes for his label debut ‘Legz & Soul’ EP. Moody and tense house-music mastery with the ghosts of garage-past blended seamlessly into the groove of title track ‘Legz & Soul’. The lead Vocal Mix is accompanied by a Dub Mix to round off the A-side giving DJs an alternative stripped back version should the night call for something a touch darker. ‘Get Out’ is a moulding and morphing dub-house outing that change endlessly on top of rolling and hypnotic drums to take the lead on the B-side. ‘Holy Stab’ continues in the same vein – rolling and shifting delay applied to beautiful bouncing dub stabs. A real masterclass in high quality house jams from start to finish with something for every dancefloor environment.

COW is DJ and techno producer from Perth, Australia. With a relentless drive for innovation and an obsession with exploration. Open The Closed is an EP built around a simple idea that tends to get overlooked in practice: you never really know something until you try it. "Closed" represents the ideas we dismiss too quickly and the opportunities we talk ourselves out of. "Open" is the decision to challenge that. Fear loses some of its authority once it's been confronted...

Some recordings herald the future in ways that are impossible to see in real time. Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር), by the artist Teodros Makonnen, also known as Teddy Mak, is one of those. Today, electronic sounds, synthesizers, and digital production are taken for granted in Ethiopian music, but in the early 1980s, they were novelties that polarized opinion. Even to this day, the story of Teodros Makonnen’s legacy has never been properly told. He played a decisive role in defining the sound of the digital era of Ethiopian music that emerged in the 1980s and beyond, both as a keyboard player and as a producer, songwriter, performer, and sound designer.

Ethiopian music was at a crossroads in the early 1980s. Much like music in the rest of the world, technology and automation heralded either a quantum leap in musical development or the annihilation of musicianship, depending on who you’d ask. The changes were incremental nonetheless, but with the benefit of hindsight one can clearly see that the changes meant different things in different contexts. Drum machines and electric organs came to replace many hotel bands because, all of a sudden, one musician could control drums, melody, and accompaniment. Teodros was one of the first musicians in Ethiopia to explore the possibilities this opened up.

Teodros’ father, Captain Makonnen Beri, was a chief pilot at Ethiopian Airlines and a music enthusiast at that. This would prove important to his development, as Makonnen brought back a piano from Germany, which would lead to the first steps in Teodros’ long musical career. Captain Makonnen’s work as Head of Flight Operations and as a pilot exposed him to the wider world that was far from commonplace for most Ethiopians. In a house where music captivated the whole family, the piano gave Teodros’ talent an outlet. Not only was a piano at home rare in Ethiopian households, his father also brought an Indian teacher to their home to teach Teodros and his brother, Captain Samuel Makonnen, music theory (solfeggio or ear training) and piano. Teodros and his youngest brother, the late great Dereje, a member of both the legendary Ibex Band and the Ethiopian reggae group Dallol, took up music from that point onward, with Teodros beginning to develop his proficiency at the age of eight. His father encouraged him to practice tirelessly at home, and Teodros later received musical schooling at the German School in Addis Ababa.

His obvious talent led to studies and formal education at the Yared School of Music, followed by continued studies in American jazz at Northern Virginia Community College in Virginia. Teodros cut his teeth professionally in his mid-teens, not only as a keyboardist, but also as an arranger for the Wabi Shebelle and Dahlak bands in the 1970s. He mastered electronic sequencing early, rising to prominence through the midnight recording sessions held during the military curfew. The pressures imposed by the curfew required precise and disciplined recordings, and Teodros delivered just that. This, in turn, led to collaborations with iconic artists such as Mulatu Astatke, Aster Aweke, Menelik Wossenachew, Tilahun Gessesse, Mahmoud Ahmed, and Alemayehu Eshete.

In those days, he sat in as a keyboardist with the Dahlak Band when Dawit Yifru took a hiatus to study in Russia, and also with the Ethiostar Band. He secured a residency at the Wabi Shebelle Hotel with the Shebele Band, together with Zelalem Tadese (drums), later succeeded by Elias Bekele, Mulugeta Hailu (bass), Teferi ‘Bibisha’ Mengesha (guitar), Kumelachew G/Selassie (trumpet), and Teshome Deneke (saxophone). A friendly competition developed between the bands associated with the Ras Hotel (the Ibex Band), Ghion Hotel (the Dahlak Band), and Wabi Shebelle Hotel (the Shebele Band). The music scene at Wabi Shebelle saw teenagers commanding the spotlight in an industry otherwise dominated by musicians of an older generation.

At the Wabi Shebelle Hotel, Teodros met a diplomat from Saudi Arabia and later visited him at his home in Addis Ababa, a meeting that had unexpected musical consequences. The man owned a Yamaha double-deck keyboard. That evening, they recorded Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር) in one take. This recording, a cornerstone in the early digital sound of Ethiopian music, came about almost by chance, simply because Teodros got the opportunity. Traditional Ethiopian songs were cast in a wholly electronic style.

Once freed from backing duties, Teodros’ keyboards could explore dreamlike soundscapes that took Ethiopian music in new directions. Even though the cassette contained well-known Ethiopian songs, they were given highly original arrangements, performed on an electric organ with drum machine backing and rhythm patterns that left the listener with suggestive, lingering sounds. “Libesh Kabashen” (also known as “Anchi Bale Game”) and “Odu Gol Golesa” wrap you in the very stuff that dreams are made of.

Originally released on cassette only, this recording exudes a mystique that surpasses even some of the most obscure Ethiopian recordings of the day. It remained more or less unknown outside of Ethiopia until now. Some of the tracks, like “Addis Fikir,” are permeated with an almost naive buoyancy, free-floating sounds that lost contact with the ground the moment they were conceived. Others, like “Meche New Hageren Yemayew” and “Lelitu Alnega Alegn,” carry a moodier, quirkier timbre, with pulsating rhythms in the background. Yet even the darker pieces contain an unmistakable wave, something essentially Ethiopian. If most recordings of Teodros’s contemporaries at the time were teeming with atmosphere, his songs seem instead at home in the stratosphere, almost ethereal. Some of the music here could be filed under “lullabies,” were it not for the recurring, almost brooding feeling that engulfs the listener on the aforementioned tracks. You could easily be forgiven for drifting into a blissful haze as the music washes over you.

Up to the advent of electronic music production, Ethiopia was totally dominated by big bands on the one hand, and small groups on the other. The former were tied to large institutions such as the military, the latter emerged from the entertainment industry, in hotel bars and nightclubs. These groups were commercially driven, and bands ultimately had to foster a mercenary approach to employment, albeit not to the passion for music. In the light of this, Teodros’ musical legacy can be seen in two ways. On the one hand, he is a key player in Ethiopian music from the 1970s onwards, leaving an indelible mark through hundreds of compositions and arrangements, including soundtracks for numerous documentary films and advertisements for different companies. On the other hand, the way he and others employed electronics brought Ethiopian music onto a fork in the road.

The replacement of traditional instruments with electronic equipment was seen as impending doom by some. Others, like Teodros, saw new avenues for performance, production, and creativity. Just as later producers like Abegasu Shiota of Admas, Teodros was a trailblazer who opened paths that it took Ethiopian music as a whole more than a decade to rush into. The hotel scene had already been pushed toward electronic music by financial necessity and cost-cutting. Today’s revived global interest in Ethiopian music from the seventies and eighties, alongside a broader resurgence, has changed the reasons for using digital means of music production. They have become tools for musical dreaming. This is where the dreaming began.

Jazz, Soul, Highlife and spoken reflection co-exist without apology on 13 new songs co-produced with Benjamin James and featuring his group The Cavemen as well as saxophonist Lakecia Benjamin. For the Grammy-nominated vocalist/songwriter Somi, each new album is an act of place-making. The catalogue of the Rwandan/Ugandan-American artist reads like a map of migration and memory, with records rooted in Lagos, in Harlem, and in the spirit and political inheritance of Miriam Makeba. 'What Does It Take To Bloom? Is her ninth album overall and her first collection of original songs in six years. Musically, it also represents a new chapter in collaboration. During sessions in Lagos, Somi connected with Benjamin James, whose partnership would become pivotal. As one-half of the Nigerian duo The Cavemen., James brings a contemporary approach to heritage-centred sound. The collaboration proved so seamless that Somi invited him to co-produce the full album, with moods and rhythms ranging from upbeat Highlife-Soul-Fusion ('Aiwah'), via jazzy statements ('Throw Something'), to soulful reflection ('What Does It Take To Bloom?').

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

Japanese acid pop outfit Cho Co Pa Co Cho Co Quin Quin channel the globe-trotting spirit of Haruomi Hosono’s 1970s tropical boogie on their debut album, Tradition.

Named after one of the basic rhythms of Cuban folk music and drawing on influences from across the globe, Cho Co Pa Co Cho Co Quin Quin are quite simply a world unto itself.

Comprised of three childhood friends, Daido, Yuta and So, who reconnected during the coronavirus pandemic, Cho Co Pa initially emerged as a playful way for the three 23-year-olds to pass the time. Tapping into their youthful connection, they created a sound that exudes confidence and curiosity, a homage to the masterful world of YMO’s and Happy End’s Haruomi Hosono, rooted in the trio’s own idiosyncratic experience of the present.

Recorded at home and promoted on hugely popular DIY TikTok videos, their debut album Tradition is a technicolour exercise in armchair travelling – a kind of lockdown exotica for the housebound whose nostalgic flights of fancy are laced with a sense of whimsical melancholy for the lost freedoms of youth.

Referencing everything from Afro-Cuban percussion to lo-fi beats, Buddhist spirituality to trap, each member of the band brings different musical inspirations to the table. Latin American and Middle Eastern styles sit adjacent to a fascination for the electronic music of Aphex Twin, Dorian Concept, Underworld and Daft Punk. At times, the music verges on acid pop bliss, at others, it grooves with the instrumental funk sensibility of BADBADNOTGOOD.

“In the first place, when I create a song, my goal is to transport the listener to a mysterious place,” vocalist Daido explained in a recent magazine interview. Using lyrics as another sonic texture in the composition of ideas, Cho Co Pa paint beguiling sonic postcards of far-flung moods across 12 highly original tracks.

Marrying the organic and the electronic on rhythmically sophisticated compositions like ‘Chichibu’ and ‘Watatsumi’, it is on the album’s standout track ‘Gandhara’ that the experimental sound of Cho Co Pa comes to the fore. Referencing the ancient city of Gandhara through which Buddhism made its way from India to China, the track is a vocoder-trap-inspired, Udu drum-driven pop jam that lilts with unmistakable Balearic flair. If that’s difficult to imagine, then know simply that ‘Gandhara’ sounds like nothing else on this side of Saturn. Even Daido seemed surprised by the outcome: “I feel like we were able to create something that exceeded our abilities. That was huge!”

Hugely popular in Japan, with festival appearances lined up alongside BADBADNOTGOOD at Asagiri Jam in October, it's safe to say the success of Tradition has taken Cho Co Pa by surprise. You won’t have heard anything like it."

K-LONE returns to Wisdom Teeth with “Have a few days off” - a mini-LP of vivid, 4K club music that seeks out precious moments of release in an increasingly restless world.

The record marks his first outing on the label since 2023’s Swells, and in that time - once again - the world has changed. Thousand acre data centres. Multirotor drones. These long hot summers. K-LONE’s music has always played with escapism, but this time the question is: can music and creativity continue to provide escape when the world gets too loud to block out?

Stylistically the record absorbs the full range of K-LONE’s key musical touchstones - from swinging minimal house through to autonomic d’n’b and drifting ambient techno. Many of his established calling cards are on display here: his bright resounding chords, buoyant basslines, and fragmented vocal hooks. The record is full of joy and rapture, yet something feels off. Amongst the glowing melodies is a creeping dissonance. ASMR vocals float in and out of the mix like eerie audio hallucinations, and synths melt and detune as if warped from excessive heat. Amongst the idyll, life creeps in at the edges.

Colourful yet discordant; familiar yet strange. “You’re looking kinda sleepy. Have a few days off.”

Dublin-born, thirty years an immigrant. That's the spine of henryohenry's debut, Apocrypha, not as a concept but as a condition. He's spent three decades in the United States working in the trades, absorbing the country's mythologies and building what he calls "an idiosyncratic American language" out of them, something closer to Whitman's vision than what he found. He is, by his own account, "formally and informally not a musician" — all but two of the songs were written on a $6 charity-shop guitar with a repaired headstock and strings that distorted unpredictably. It doesn't appear on the record. Produced by filmmaker Rick Alverson, the album is anchored by guitarist Eamon O'Leary and his son Ned Steves, recording together for the first time, without rehearsal. Erik Hall mixed and contributed overdubs; Emilie Rex of Lean Year lends harmonies to three songs; poet Callie Garnett appears on another. Album standout "There" captures something harder to name: how powerful feelings drive you to the page, and how the thing you make can outlast the feelings that made it. "It feels like a triumph over something," he says, "even if you're a bit embarrassed by some of the sentiment."


Apocrypha arrives as a debut but carries the patience of a life lived in full. For fans of John Cale, Nick Drake, Leonard Cohen.

The follow up to her UK number 1 album This Is How Tomorrow Moves, the stark and striking fourth album by beabadoobee is named for the electricity towers that dot every major artery in the world—the strong, spindly structures that reminded Beatrice Laus of her connection to friends and family at home while she was staring down extreme disconnection and isolation on tour over the past few years.

The title can also be read as an allusion to Laus’ spiky, forceful new sound—the waves of distortion that crash and shatter across this record’s 14 songs mirroring the intense crackle you hear when walking under power lines. The pylon is also a fitting symbol for an album that reckons with the repetitive anxieties of your mid-twenties: What if I’m always going to be this way? What if life is just pylon after pylon on the road?

The album’s first single is available to stream and buy from today: “Sun Has Set” introduces Pylon as, in essence, a set of songs that began as diary entries, words that Laus thought she’d never be able to say out loud. “A lot of the songs on this record are things I wish I could have said to someone,” she says. “This song has this petty tunnel vision—it’s like, I hate you. You’re gonna stay here and listen to how much I hate you. Because I never got to say that.” The single comes accompanied by a striking first person video directed by Bea’s partner and longtime visual collaborator Jake Erland.


Ever a devotee of pure rock music—both as something to be cherished and something to be played with—Laus casts these feelings in songs that touch on classic grunge, midwest emo and ‘90s radio rock, zeroing in on a sound that is both harsher and more direct than any of her previous records. She says the music she’s loved has “always been an influence” on her music, and so for B4 she went straight to the source. A fair few of Beabadoobee’s composite influences contributed to Pylon, a fact that speaks to the goodwill and respect Laus has amassed over the course of her relatively brief career.

Hayley Williams sings on “Nothing to Prove,” a deeply anthemic indie-rock song about getting your power back from fairweather friends who just want a bit of your success. The moody “Powerlines” features a verse from Turnstile singer Brendan Yates, a master of matching vocal force with emotional nuance. Elsewhere, you’ll find contributions from Pinegrove’s Evan Stephens Hall, Deftones’ Chino Moreno, and Title Fight’s Shane Moran, as well as, on “Write Me A Letter”, production work from Laus’ longtime friends and collaborators Matty Healy and George Daniel of The 1975.

Beabadoobee will debut songs from the record on the Powerlines Tour, her first ever arena shows and biggest tour to date, taking in shows across North America, the UK and Europe this autumn-winter. The Powerlines Tour kicks off 1 October and includes stops at Madison Square Garden, The Kia Forum, The O2 and more (full routing below). Support comes from Wisp in the US, Canada and UK and Violet Grohl in France, The Netherlands, Belgium and Germany.





Born in the Philippines and raised in London, Beatrice Laus emerged as a British alternative music icon across three acclaimed albums and five EPs. She has garnered multiple BRIT Award and BBC Sound Of nominations, and won NME’s Radar award, whilst amassing over 10 billion streams worldwide and more than 12 million followers across her social channels.

This Is How Tomorrow Moves became her first record to reach number 1 on the UK Official Album Chart in 2024, following her Top 10 albums Fake It Flowers (which reached number 8) in 2020 and 2022’s Beatopia (#4). Earlier this year, beabadoobee released the one-off single ‘‘All I Did Was Dream Of You,” teaming up with Grammy-nominated best New Artist The Marías, the result of a longtime mutual creative admiration between María Zardoya and Bea.