Buscar:sonic system

Müne isn’t just a label—it’s a sonic language carved somewhere between the imagined and the real. Born from the fusion of the Japanese words 夢 (yume, “dream”) and 音 (oto, “sound”), Müne exists as a liminal space where emotion, memory, and sound design blur into something that feels. Less about genre, more about atmosphere. Less formula, more intuition.

The debut release capture that vision into four tracks shaped by hardware grit, dusty grooves, and moods that shift between tension and warmth.

A-side
Jose Daguerre sets the tone with Barbaria, a hypnotic loop-based workout with gritty low-end, dry drums, and a subtly evolving structure. It’s meditative, but with weight. Electro Reunión leans into stripped-down electro mechanics—tight sequencing, foggy FX, and a lingering sense of space. With Patricio Felip collab on the keyboard, both tracks feel tactile, intentional, and refreshingly unpolished.

B-side
Dani Labb brings Resfr0m, a broken-beat track that feels like it’s breathing—loose and raw, wrapped in textures that drift between dreamy and distorted. Finally, Veloz y Raptor by Juan Proeliis & Cohema closes this first release with a bouncy, dark cut full of kinetic energy, tape color, and playful detail.

MÜNE 001 is a declaration of intent: warm, human, and left-of-center. Built for deep listening and late-night systems.

Nu-hardcore quintet, Bodyweb, are the sound of someone’s nervous system on the verge of breakdown—hyperactive, tormented and unflinchingly vulnerable. Born out of the Leeds hardcore scene, they’re a shape-shifting alloy of jagged emotion and precision chaos. What began as late-night jams between Louis Hardy (Higher Power, Big Cheese, Fate) and Ben Jones (Pest Control) eventually mutated into train_wreck_simulation, a debut EP filled with frantic breakdowns and nu-metal swag that felt like the soundtrack to a digital exorcism. The final piece of the puzzle came from Hardy’s estranged childhood friend, pq. His twisted samples and synthetic textures are haunted and disturbed, injecting cyberpunk soul into hardcore flesh. Contorting through several iterations in the following years, the band absorbed Luke Thompson (Stiff Meds) on drums, filmmaker Tom Hobson on guitar and Naomi Macleod (Empire State Bastard) on bass, and laid down their first collective offering. deadwired is due out on Flatspot Records later this year. Bodyweb's second EP is a violent thesis on connection and pain that sends Hardy’s unfiltered vocals through heaven and hell. Four overstimulating tracks run a gamut of styles and influences from Slipknot to Björk, constantly lane-switching between dizzying heaviness, ambient soundscapes and brain-burrowing hooks. Entirely self-produced, deadwired upgrades the sonic formula laid down on the last record and raises the question: what else could exist in Bodyweb’s twisted roadmap? Nothing seems impossible. What seems important, however, is retaining the rawness in a style that can often turn sterile. “We still wanted it to sound very human. It had to be well produced but not cold and lifeless.” shares Hardy. “We didn’t use a click track. All guitars were real amps with microphones. We tried to make everything as real and raw as possible, we recorded using all the same gear we use when playing live too to really capture the energy of how it feels when we jam together." ‘Deadwired’ is a snapshot of violent implosion. Four ADHD-fuelled transmissions from the edge of spiritual collapse. It drags metallic hardcore through glitched-out ambience to confront ego death, generational trauma, and the violence of being alive. On stage, Bodyweb don’t just perform, they purge. Raucous live electronics meld with digitally contorted guitars. Breakbeats meet breakdowns—no backing track in sight. Bodyweb enable a collective catharsis. Mosh, dance, dive, scream, heal. A physical therapy session screamed into the void.

Pickle Darling has always existed just outside of the periphery. In a heightened time of fast music, algorithmic consumption and rapid virality, Lukas Mayo (they/them) has remained focused on the album. Their discography is a reflection of their creative evolution, and they deliberately look for ways to push sonic boundaries from release to release. Since debuting with Bigness in 2019 followed by Cosmonaut in 2021, Mayo has curated a catalog that is deeply personal and strangely tactile, where tiny, unexpected details_an off-kilter loop, a whispered aside, the warmth of an old Casio_become as crucial as melody itself. Their 2023 LP Laundromat was a precise and polished expansion of that world, a record that felt like it had been carefully placed behind glass. Their forthcoming fourth album, Battlebots, by contrast, is unruly and full of static: a collection of songs that feel like they could only ever exist on scratched CD-Rs passed between friends. Self-recorded in their home studio in Christchurch, New Zealand, it finds Mayo taking a scalpel to their own songwriting. Songs were stretched, chopped, reversed. Some ideas started as "unlistenable garbage" before morphing into something unexpectedly beautiful. If a song felt too straightforward, Mayo had to mess it up. That friction of old and new, organic and digital, melody and noise is what drives Battlebots. Drawing inspiration from a strange, scattered lineage: Four Tet's Rounds, The Books, Neneh Cherry's Broken Politics, The Wrens' Three types of reading ambiguity, but also the emotional directness of 2000s pop like Madonna's Ray of Light and Robyn's Body Talk, the result is an album that feels like a glitch in the system, pushing against past constraints while embracing the weird, beautiful mess of making something new.

Russell Haswell and Florian Hecker have both a long history with Mego/Editions Mego. Individual releases have peppered the Mego catalogue since Haswell’s Live Salvage 1997->2000 cd release (MEGO 012) in 2001 and the debut Hecker release IT ISO161975 (MEGO 014) in 1998.

The individual exploration of sonic phenomena by these two practitioners has resulted in both being highly regarded for their uncompromising approach to sound as matter. Russell Haswell and Florian Hecker came together as a collaborative duo with the now-legendary record Blackest Ever Black, somewhat inexplicably, on the classical imprint of Warner Brothers.

In 2025, Hecker and Haswell return with a new album featuring the two-channel edit produced initially for their UPIC DIFFUSION SESSION #23, performed as a live diffusion across 8-channels at the X100 Festival, Berlin, 2023, celebrating the 100th anniversary of Xenakis' birth.

This record furthers the duo's exploration of Xenakis's UPIC system as the sole instrument. The UPIC is a computer music system that generates sound from visual input. The original intention of the system developed by Xenakis was to make a utopian tool for producing new sounds accessible to all, independent of formal training. One can locate footage of Xenakis and a group of children making drawings for the system in the 70's.

The duo set off experimenting with a diverse array of hand-drawn images to feed the UPIC system including news photographs of disasters and atrocities, "food porn" through to depictions of the natural world and microscopic images of molecular structures (including 'the blackest ever black'). The resulting eccentric audio from these images is claimed by the artists to heighten synaesthesia and is as mysterious as it is baffling.

Throughout UPIC DIFFUSION SESSION #23 frequency clusters move and morph in the most unusual manner, shifting and stretching into shapes that hint at some kind of magical process. What starts out deceptively simple soon unravels into a large array of sonic mayhem. Symbolic jet planes are shredded by a swarm of insects, a metal bowl howls into the void, a tiny tin toy crawls into a thicket with the resolute aura of a black hole. A burning geyser of laser forms liquid shrapnel. This is sound as an alchemical process, a constant chimerical flow into the netherworld and is the net result of the decades long radical investigations by the two artists involved. UPIC DIFFUSION SESSION #23 is a direct, rich and rewarding listen for those willing to invest time into the outer limits.

Recorded from late 1996 through early 1997, Hold Onto I.D., The Shadow Ring's fourth album, marks the apogee of the trio's experimental rock epoch - their last record clinging to their factitious bandness before they let all song and structure go awash in sonic malaise for their final run of releases on Swill Radio. The surrealist dreams of City Lights and Put the Music in Its Coffin give way to pseudo-expressionistic lyrics mired in the banality and bleakness of the everyday, set against the backdrop of the Coombe House (as pictured on the album's cover). While Hold Onto I.D. is the group's most overtly autobiographical release to date, Lambkin's lyrics obfuscate his expressionist tendencies filtering them through the codes and languages of officialdom, linking the "inner self" with documents of the state_identification cards, National Insurance numbers, and British passport numbers. Having moved out of their parents' homes and into the top floor of the famed Coombe House, Graham Lambkin and Darren Harris set out to rework material drafted over the previous year, aided by Tim Goss, still safely in residence at the "Valebrook Inn." While the familiar sounds of Harris's deadpan recitation and Lambkin's electric guitar, amateurishly strummed, dominate the album, the emotive interludes of Goss's keyboards populate the record along with of home-cooked tape experiments and dime-store concrète. Originally released on CD and supported by a US tour with friends Scott Foust and Karla Borecky's Idea Fire Company, Hold Onto I.D. is perhaps the band's best-known and most accessible album. (The Shadow Ring's sole representative on a streaming platform, it was once acknowledged by the Guardian as one of "the 101 strangest records on Spotify.") Offered here for the first time on vinyl, Hold Onto I.D. is an essential album for both completists and the uninitiated alike. Throughout their legendary, decade-long run, the Shadow Ring were an enigmatic force on the international musical sub-underground. Before their disbandment in 2002, this shambolic rock outfit, formed by a group of rowdy teenagers in southeast England, left behind a mighty run of eight LPs, a handful of 7"s, and a spate of raucous live shows and cryptic zine appearances on both sides of the Atlantic, all which have bolstered their enduring word-of-mouth mystique. Beginning in 2023 with the first-ever vinyl pressing of the self-released pre-Shadow Ring tape The Cat & Bells Club (1992), Blank Forms Editions has been conducting a systematic retrospective of the storied group. Wax-Work Echoes and Hold Onto I.D. are the latest releases in a multiyear reissue effort that includes several LPs, a comprehensive CD box set, and a nearly five-hundred-page book.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves.Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl's newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single "Not Hell, Not Heaven" outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. "It's about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim," explains vocalist Kat Moss. "It's trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain't working for me." The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on "Fantasy." "It's incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated," Moss says. "`Fantasy' is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard." The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, "Are We All Angels," asking questions like, "Is this all there is?" and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. "It's about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn't matter how `good' or `bad' you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do," explains Moss, noting that punctuation on "Are We All Angels" has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl's debut, 2021's How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record's sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called "Seeds to Sow," that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. "It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we're fulfilling that," says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023's widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next.Scowl's growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band's scope. "Will would say, `Everything you have here is correct, but it's in the wrong place,'" says Gilbert. Moss adds: "Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses." But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. "Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate," says guitarist Malachi Greene. "At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes."

Berlin-based Colombian DJ, producer, and curator Edna Martinez presents a sonic journey into the electrifying world of Picó—the vibrant and dynamic sound system culture that has defined the streets of Cartagena and Barranquilla for decades. More than just a musical movement, Picó is a way of life, a bold expression of identity, community, and resistance. From its roots in the working-class neighbourhoods of Colombia’s Caribbean coast to its deep connections with Africa and the Caribbean, this compilation captures the pulse of a culture where music is played at full volume, rhythms travel across oceans, and dance is both a form of celebration and storytelling. For those unfamiliar, Picós are hand-painted sound systems, often adorned with dazzling colours and striking imagery, each with its own name and sonic identity. These mobile discos became the heart of neighbourhood bailes, where the sounds of champeta, highlife, soukous, mbaqanga, zouk, soca, and cumbia would turn every street corner, market, and terrace into a dancefloor. Initially built by local craftsmen using modified speaker components, Picós became legendary for their powerful bass and exclusivity, with DJs sourcing rare vinyl from African and Caribbean ports and rebranding them with unique piconemas—new names adapted to local slang, making the tracks instantly recognisable within the community.

This compilation brings together a carefully curated selection of these rare and sought-after tracks, tracing the deep-rooted musical exchanges between Colombia, West and Central Africa, and the Caribbean. Featuring artists like Los Corraleros De Majagual, Peacocks International Highlife Band, Pedro Lima, Zaïko Langa Langa, and more, the album also includes edits by Edna Martinez, reimagining these timeless rhythms for contemporary audiences while staying true to their original spirit.

Strut presents ‘Picó! Sound System Culture From The Colombian Carribbean’ across 2LP Vinyl, 1CD & Digital focusing on a celebration of the raw, undiluted energy of Picó culture. Through Edna Martinez’s curation, and extensive liner notes, this compilation offers a powerful and authentic glimpse into one of the most vibrant musical traditions of the Colombian Caribbean

Pioneering British electronic musician Mark Van Hoen is set to release his latest solo album, The Eternal Present, on 23 May 2025 via Dell'Orso, a remarkable collection of tracks spanning nearly three decades of recordings from 1998 to 2024.
The Eternal Present embodies its philosophical title, inspired by Joseph Campbell's concept that "Eternity isn't some later time... Eternity is that dimension of here and now that all thinking in temporal terms cuts off." The album explores music as the ultimate expression of existing in the present moment, transcending time and creating a sonic experience that is simultaneously "spectral, ghostly, melodic, harmonic, and decayed."
An influential contemporary of Aphex Twin, Autechre, LFO and Boards of Canada, Van Hoen is best known for his solo work as Locust in the mid-'90s, which helped push post-rave electronic music into newly challenging realms. His extensive discography spans releases on influential labels including R&S, Touch, and Editions Mego. Van Hoen has worked on numerous collaborations throughout his career, including with Nick Holton and Neil Halstead of Slowdive under the moniker Black Hearted Brother—their album Stars Are Our Home was released in 2013.
The Eternal Present continues the lineage of Van Hoen's most significant works, with artwork by Ian Anderson (Designers Republic) reflecting the album's "eternal present" concept with a mysterious visual approach, allowing listeners to form their own imaginary landscapes. The mastering by Stefan Betke (Pole) enhances this document of the evolution of the artist over the years as he continues to hone his signature sound. Using a host of instruments including analogue synthesisers and employing various recording approaches, Van Hoen's equipment changed dramatically over the years—from early DSP processing used on his first solo record on Apollo ‘Playing With Time’ to various synthesisers, modular systems, tape machines, and digital workstations—contributing to the album's rich sonic diversity.
Throughout The Eternal Present, ideas are woven together through spoken word quotations and abstract vocals featuring notable collaborations from Rachel Goswell on the Slowdive cover "Shine" (from 1998), Megan Mitchell (Cruel Diagonals) on "Somewhere", and session vocalists Clare Dove and Dorothy Takev on "No-One Leave" and "It's Not You (In A Way)" respectively. The use of cleverly assembled vocal samples from an "undisclosed but very famous female vocalist" on "Multiplex" (2016) and the indistinct vocalisations on the Cabaret Voltaire-influenced "Only Me" (2017), constantly challenges and disorientates the listener through fluctuating, ever-changing musical elements.
The album was recorded across multiple locations including Somerset, London, Los Angeles, and New York—even beginning compositions during flights and in airport lounges—reflecting Van Hoen's changing personal circumstances, environments, and situations throughout the years.
Of Indian-Jamaican descent, Van Hoen was born and raised in England, absorbing diverse musical influences from his neighbors—African-Jamaican on one side and Punjabi Indian on the other. "Each family played their own music frequently, and I absorbed it." His musical foundations include Brian Eno, Kraftwerk, OMD, Tangerine Dream, Japan, Cabaret Voltaire, and Cocteau Twins, later finding inspiration in My Bloody Valentine, LFO, and '90s producers Robert Leiner and CJ Bolland.
These eclectic influences are evident on The Eternal Present, which contains snapshots of different periods in his life, with changing circumstances across decades creating a variety of textures and sounds. As Mark explains: "It holds the same sonic signature as many of my solo releases and early Locust albums. It's a natural development that has taken place in the last few decades. It's even related to the earliest music I made as a teenager, although perhaps more sophisticated."
“What a remarkably affecting, majestically broad and captivating work it is..what strikes you most is the album’s myriad diversity. Outstanding” (Electronic Sound)

“Whether channelling mid- 70’s Eno, early Aphex Twin or Neu! his vivid sounds shimmer with emotional weight” (Mojo 4*)

"Musically, Van Hoen belongs to a distinguished family tree. Originally influenced by the likes of Brian Eno and Tangerine Dream, and later presaging both Autechre's glitch and Boards of Canada's pastoral IDM." (Pitchfork)

Vacation Records finally lives up to its name — after years of throwing parties and pushing wax across Indonesia, the collective-turned-store-turned-label now drops its first official 12". VAC001 is here, and it's a punchy four-tracker pressed to vinyl and primed for peak time.

Side A is helmed by label head Angga, who delivers two tightly-wound cuts: the tough, acidic stinger ‘Failed System’, followed by the psychedelic and hypnotic builder ‘Extension’. These tracks channel Angga’s ear for raw basslines and left-of-centre rave magic, honed over years behind the decks across Indonesia.
Flip to Side B and Seoul’s Jesse You takes the controls. Kicking off with ‘Cherry Lights’, a pulsating ride for strobe-lit hours, Jesse then closes the record with ‘DJR’, showing off his knack for bending sonic layers without breaking the groove.

What started in 2022 as a simple mission — bringing electronic music’s vinyl culture closer to home rather than waiting for overseas digs — has grown into something much bigger. Now, with VAC001, Vacation Records cements its place as a platform connecting Indonesia’s scene with the rest of the world, one release at a time.

Electrodynamique is back with five tracks that fuse past and future into a single, electric pulse. Born in his early years and rediscovered with care, these songs are raw, vivid time machines — bursting with wonder, heart, and unrelenting rhythm.
Rooted in the sounds of early 2000s electro, synth-pop, and breakbeats, this release is a sonic flood of glistening synths, aching melodies, and driving drums. Each track carries its own weight — a story, a feeling, a frame of life caught in sound.

“Recorded at BBC Broadcasting House and partially aired on BBC Radio 3’s Late Junction, the first studio encounter between London-based duo Exotic Sin and Swiss percussionist Julian Sartorius is now published in full on this album from Sagome.

Winding through six distinct and interconnected paths, the trio effortlessly create a shared language in this expansive improvised session.

Listening back two years later — the session was recorded on March 24, 2023 — it’s evident how they build at a relaxed pace, offering space for the listener to enter into their evolving sound. Anchored by piano, delicate wood, metal, and air instruments, a fluid system of interactions develops: repeating, deepening, but not fixating. The direction of travel is not cyclical or linear and the pace insists on forward confidently, avoiding the trap or comfort of recurring motifs.

Percussion is not a timekeeper, but a key element, introducing new textures that even on the final track Path 6, trace out a horizon that feels more like a blurred beginning than a definitive end.

In Session, Exotic Sin moves into a lighter, perhaps more playful language for improvisation than on their debut album Customer’s Copy. This could be influenced by Sartorius’ tactile approach to sonic materials or the more stripped-back nature of the improvised session, with less emphasis on synthesised and electric sounds. While the emotional imprint from their debut album—murkier and insistent—remains, it has been aired out to dry. In Session, their sound-world is broad and moves with levity.”

Andrea Zarza Canova – April 2025


Music by
Kenichi Iwasa (electric and acoustic percussion, trumpet, horns, thumb piano, effects).
Naima Nefertari (piano, Yamaha keyboard, flute, bells, percussion).
Julian Sartorius (drums, percussion).

Recorded and mixed live for Late Junction at BBC Broadcasting House, London, on the 24th of March 2023 by Joe Yon and John Boland.
Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi.
Produced by Silvia Malnati at Reduced Listening for BBC Radio 3.
Extracts from the session were played on Late Junction on the 14th of April 2023.
Artwork by Josef William Back.
Graphic design by Nicola Tirabasso.

Following his 2019 debut on the label with Amphibious / Lucid Dreams, Bristol-based producer Drone returns to System Music for another exploration into the darker corners of sonic frequencies and low end pressure.

Entitled Flooded EP, this is Drone’s biggest project to date and features 4 original, epic tracks accompanied by an incredible remix from SP:MC. The EP kicks off with 20k, an introduction laden with off-kilter, haunting eeriness and pulsating bass and percussion. Next up is Entropy, a truly ethereal track. Spatially beautiful yet isolating and cold. The title track, Flooded, is a monster of a track which intimidates and excites with eyes down and gun fingers raised. Rounding off the body of work is Fear which hits hard with crisp drum patterns and a throbbing bassline, almost evoking a sense of nostalgia, tying it in seamlessly with a typically electrifying remix from SP:MC

Limited edition white vinyl (800 copies) The self-styled ritualistic electro-mechanical ensemble OSMIUM is a veritable supergroup. Made up of Oscar-winning composer and instrumentalist Hildur Gudnadóttir, veteran engineer and producer James Ginzburg, Senyawa's idiosyncratic vocalist Rully Shabara and Grammy-winning sound designer / producer Sam Slater, while each member brings along a laundry list of accolades, the project is far greater than the sum of its parts. Alloying burnished electroacoustic soundscapes with dense, metallic drones, barbed rhythms and buckled, bio-mechanical vocalizations, OSMIUM's eagerly awaited debut album doesn't try to cast a rigid future. Rather, it tempers a viscous flow of unorthodox speculations that smolders through the distant past, blazing a trail all the way to the frontier of fate. Absorbed by questions about the relationship between humans and technology, tradition and progression, the individual and the group, OSMIUM channel their experience and expertise into a set of forward-thinking sonic interrogations that skewer established cultural preconceptions. And although genre is acknowledged - the album draws from folk, doom metal, 20th century minimalism, industrial music and extreme noise - there's never a sense that it's riveted firmly in place. Widely known for her soundtrack work (including `Joker' and `Chernobyl') Gudnadóttir plays the halldorophone, a unique cello-like electroacoustic instrument designed by Halldór Ulfarsson that allows the performer to harness unstable feedback loops. Taking his cues from this process, Slater (who has worked alongside Jóhann Jóhannsson, Ben Frost and others) generates rhythms using a self-oscillating drum he designed with KOMA Elektronik and Subtext boss and Emptyset member Ginzburg responds in kind, producing booming tambura-like sonorities from a device he developed himself based on the monocord, an ancient single- stringed resonator. OSMIUM synchronize the three unique instruments using a custom system of robotics to generate basic rhythms that underpin their improvisations and experiments, and Shabara's alien tones supply the band with their conceptual fulcrum. The vocalist is one of South Asia's most recognizable underground artists, and the sounds he's able to create using exhaustively rehearsed extended techniques are so distinctive that he's been studied by scientists back home in Indonesia. Never weighed down by needless sound design or modish ornamentation, it's music that feels authentically experimental; OSMIUM have figured out an awkward symmetry between their discrete approaches, concentrating their gaze on the outcome rather than the process. The result is a work of science fiction that's driven by interaction, conversation and sensation.

Depth.Request proudly announces the debut full-length album from French electronic artist Pierre Berge-Cia - a culmination of two years of dedicated experimentation and creative exploration. This inaugural LP represents a significant milestone in Pierre Berge-Cia's musical journey, showcasing his innovative approach to electronic music.

Crafted through experimental processes and delving into themes of tension, control, and movement, "If You Do, Then When?" unfolds as a visceral journey through the complexities of bodily and sensory experience. Each track is designed to reflect the human body in all its shapes and forms, using innovative sounds and structures to evoke physicality and movement, and aiming to resonate with listeners on a deeply corporeal level.

The album was produced using a combination of the Elektron Digitone synth, a Mackie CR1604 mixer, a Shure SM57 microphone, and a limited selection of digital plugins to maintain sonic consistency. Mastering was handled by Pierre's close friend, Stefan Brown - also known as "Lesser Of". His expertise as a top-tier sound engineer at Abbey Road Studios helped shape the LP's pristine and powerful sound identity. Additionally, the tracks were tested and refined using some of the electronic scene's most beloved sound systems, ensuring an impactful club experience.

The album's artwork, created by Pierre Berge-Cia himself, is a reinterpretation of one of his favorite art performances: "Rest Energy" by Marina Abramovic and Ulay. The tension of the drawn bow and the close-up framing of the subject evoke a palpable sense of danger and emotional intensity, mirroring the physical and psychological strains within human connection. Pierre used his own hands as the model, infusing the artwork with a deeply personal and intimate touch that amplifies the psychic gravity and thematic cohesion of the album.

Pierre Berge-Cia's debut LP is a multi-sensory experience that challenges listeners to feel sound in its most physical and affective form.

Introducing 'Higher' - the first release in a powerful new series from the Higher label.
This heavyweight track is a collaboration between renowned producer Bukkha and soulful vocalist Ites Vibration. It features the rich brass of King David Horns, deep-rooted percussion from Don Fe, and an analogue mix from Mysticwood.

The Higher series proudly delivers bass-heavy, rootikal music built to resonate through sound systems - music that moves the body and speaks to the heart, mind, and soul. Each release honours the foundations of traditional roots while pushing spiritual and sonic boundaries.

'Higher' calls us back to our natural state-a reconnection with the earth and surrender to the universe's rhythm. With its mystical melodies, swinging groove, and deep flow, this track invites listeners into a space of elevation and meditation.

Pain Management welcomes London cult favourite DJ ojo, who arrives on the label with a hazy three tracker of trademark nether zone system music. On his most dubbed out full length to date, ojo span’s the full emotive spectrum of dub sonics with a range of both the eerie and more tender expansions of low end atmospherics, the resulting 12” equally suited for the club and the journey home alike.

‘Tongue Tied’ opens the record, a lysergic offering from the darker edges of dub music. A slippery fugue-state hit of narco-ambience built around a crooning, intelligible vocal refrain and chest shot sub weight. A real nightfall system pusher built to simmer in the early hours. It kicks off the EP on an amorphous, hypnotic note that sustains throughout.‘Oil Dub’ sinks deeper into the fog, melodic kinesis and expansive delays upholding an underworld of feedbacked percussion and tongue in cheek sub motion; a seven minute sound bath of ambiguous dub ASMR.

The B-side balances out the darker strains found on its counterpart with an overtly tender digidub closer. Clocking in at almost ten minutes long ‘Cloud Suck’ is a nebulous bliss of perpetually ascending late-summer warmth. The kind of liminal dream-state embrace that you wish would never end. True to the name, it evokes tender, dusk and dawn hued moments, a quiet ride-home flash of introspection on the way to or from some pursuit of meaning. Pain Management essential right here.

Limited run of 200 hand-stamped 12” records available now.

In Marking A Boundary With The Turning Point, Ard Bit and Radboud Mens explore the tension between stasis and movement. Operating within the realm of drone and electroacoustic music, they construct a sonic landscape where sustained tones and microscopic events constantly shape and reshape each other. What initially appears static reveals itself to be rich with detail: tiny acoustic shifts breathe life into apparent stillness, inviting focused and attentive listening. The album emerged from a process where sound research, improvisation, and sound design merge. Self-built instruments, the search for timbre and texture, and recordings of the learning process itself form the foundation of these compositions. Rather than following a traditional musical structure, the result is a sonic field in which the minimal continually transforms, depending on the listener's perspective. Ard Bit (Ard Janssen) is a composer, sound artist, and field recordist based in Rotterdam, trained at the Institute of Sonology in The Hague. His work moves between improvisation and system-based composition, exploring the space between ambient, drone, and sound art. Radboud Mens is a sound artist with a decades-long practice grounded in minimalism, acoustic subtlety, and physical resonance. His work focuses on the perception of sound, the materiality of audio, and the creation of spatial listening experiences. Together, they present a layered and handcrafted album that doesn't narrate but questions. Marking A Boundary With The Turning Point is not a boundary, it's an invitation to listen beyond expectation.

Corrosiv, the sophomore album from Orchestroll, reveals the duo at their most mature and vulnerable. Originally conceived as a reflection on hybridity and bastardization, the album deploys New Age and ambient compositional tropes as a launchpad, exposing their trite sanctity to the realities of corrosion. Having come of age in the 1970s and 1980s, the New Age movement perdures today as a domain of contradictions; its promise of transcendence riddled with the very commercialized dogma from which its adherents claim to flee. Healing modalities such as reiki, crystal therapy, and sound baths are simultaneously pathways to solace and sites of exploitation; their sonic counterparts—ethereal synth pads, shimmering textures, celestial drones—claim to facilitate meditation and enlightenment while devolving into empty signifiers of vitality. With Corrosiv, Orchestroll displays neither reverence nor disdain toward New Age: they exhume it instead, revealing the saccharine effervescence and commodified murk undergirding its aesthetics. The result is intoxicating—disquieting.

Born from a two-week residency at EMS Studios and expanded through a performance at MUTEK Montreal’s 25th anniversary, Corrosiv has since outgrown its original conceptual nucleus, taking on a broader scope. Its inquiry into New Age ideology’s voided rhetoric and aesthetic mysticism now informs a broader interrogation of cultural mediocrity, anti-authoritarianism, gatekeeping, music industry toxicity, and the crumbling edifice of late capitalism and techno-feudalism—all the mechanisms by which meaning is stripped from ceremony, and once-potent forms of knowledge are subsumed into the machinery of economic extraction, severed from their original essence, and transformed into hollow simulacra. Corrosiv distills these themes through a loose narrative: a soul, fixated on wellness as dictated by cosmetic economism, becomes ensnared in an endless afterlife, unable to transcend and shed its dilapidated consciousness.

Framed as an act of audio dissolution, the album thus engages in an alchemical process, whereby complex waveshaping, morphing synthesis, and distortion enact a ritual of fragmentation. There is also friction: between the rigid, mechanical imposition of systematized order and the untamed, chaotic force of organic metamorphosis. Here corrosion and confinement are not solely conceptual motifs; they are enacted in real time, sculpting the album’s terrain. Scraping, tarnishing, degradation—the languid wear of form and substance—become instruments in their own right: buffing as abrasion, entrapment as transformation, corrosion as a means of reconfiguration. The ‘protagonist,’ if there must be one, is the listener, caught within the throes of structural determinism and the potential for emancipation, unable to pass into something greater as the specters of collapsed futures accumulate in the margins.

Corrosiv extends its reach through collaborations with familiar voices: Heith (PAN), VISIO (Haunter), Femminielli (Drowned by Locals), Habib Bardi (Interzone), and Jiyoung Wi (Enmossed, Psychic Liberation, Doyenne) each leave their imprint on its sprawling landscape. At 1h16m, it is a procession, dense with earworms that burrow into the listener’s unconscious.

Misshapen, broken-down metals leach copper into blood, acid reflux burning through the core. Psyche disaggregates into cosmic turmoil, drifting between planes—tongue on rustline, gullet laced with solvent hymns, molars unlatching, bitcrushed to marrowspill. A spasm of brine, ferrous scripture, venomtext blooming in leaden rivulets, cartilage smoldering in phosphor decomposition, synapses drowning in a quicksilver choir. Crest of bile, churning ore, breath clotting into arsenic mist, vein-thread cinched, a corrosive gospel, limb by limb, oxidized to silence.

Ultimately, as the music exhales its final breath, its residue refuses to dissipate—and stillness alone remains. There are no conclusions here—no resolution, no collapse—only the slow drift outward of a vessel unmoored, lost in the sea of symbolic souring. Corrosiv sings the song of a world barren of prophecy, littered with aesthetic detritus. Whether this magic has been transfigured or simply worn away is unclear: the last breath dissipates, but the oxidation does not stop. The silence, too, will decay.

Conceptualized, composed, performed, recorded, mixed, engineered and produced by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier, and Asaël Richard-Robitaille in 2023 and 2024 at Elektron Musik Studion (EMS) - Stockholm, Sweden and Landsc8pe Studio - Montréal, QC, Canada.
Artwork by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu @ Schwebung Mastering.

Embark on a funky synth-drenched journey as the cosmic count Jimi Tenor reunites with Timmion Records’ soul architects Cold Diamond & Mink for yet another album. When placed side by side with the fellows’ recent effort “Is There Love In Outer Space? “July Blue Skies” glides on a slightly more raw and mystical plane.

Crafted over fiery sessions between Tenor and Cold Diamond & Mink, this vinyl release offers six soul-grasping tracks ranging from mellow groove to soundtrack funk. The album’s opening title song kicks off with an extended analog synth intro which eventually develops into a sweet romantic invocation, painting a sonic canvas reminiscent of a boundless summer sky. The most vocal tune of this quite instrumental set of songs “Sky Train Baby” propels the listener on a locomotive ride through the star systems while “Venus of Barsoon” with its drum breaks and fuzz sounds blast you straight into sci fi movie funk territory.

The album’s B-side opens with “Ikuchi,” where Tenor’s always trusted flute and tenor sax take the spotlight over the slinky library beats. Closing the album we discover two single releases, the sublime “Summer Of Synesthesia” and the demonic “Tsicroxe” both completely worthy to hear sequenced inside this album as well. This album might be just the Spring jam that you needed in your life.

Quickly on the heels of their debut, Cuneiform Tabs return with Age, an LP that takes a massive leap forward in both melodic sensibilities and inventiveness. Bathed in late night psychedelia and the looping repetition of a drone sample, the group's experimental penchants remain, yet this time wrapped around tunes too sweet to be denied. In pulling back a little of the crackle and haze that made their first album so inviting, the Tabs have revealed more of their pop instincts. The overall effect is a perfect set of early Animal Collective demos or Syd Barrett attempting a Television Personalities cover at 3am.

The duo of Matt Bleyle and Sterling Mackinnon continue their system of trading 4-track tapes between the Bay Area and London, a furtive correspondence until sonic nuggets are fully formed. While these songs are very much the product of the Tascam and rudimentary software that is integral to the band, this album is truly the embrace of their songwriting talents – not unlike the recent breakthrough of labelmate Cindy Lee.

With the dream-like strum of "Ivy," slow shimmer of "Orbital Rings" and enchanting, madcap swirl of "Blended Medal," this is hypnagogic pop at its finest. Age is the record Bob Pollard hears in his head every time he steps down to the basement to pick up a guitar. This is the sound of riding in an elevator hearing McCartney singing "Blackbird" in the distance, only to have it draw closer and closer with each floor as you finally race down the hallway, putting your ear to each door searching for the source. This is Leonard Cohen smoking in the middle of the street outside a Suicide show. If all of this sounds phenomenal, it is.