Buscar:sound process

Originally released in 2012. A long-in-the-making soundtrack to acclaimed filmmaker Grant Gee's documentary about German writer WG Sebald. »Patience (After Sebald)« is a multi-layered film essay on landscape, art, history, life and loss - an exploration of the work and influence of German writer WG Sebald (1944-2001), told via a long walk through coastal East Anglia tracking his most famous book »The Rings Of Saturn«. Much like The Caretaker's oeuvre, Sebald's works are particularly focused on themes of memory, both personal and collective, making Kirby the ideal candidate for this score.

Grant tasked him with soundtracking responsibilities, but rather than thrift shop shellac, the source material for »Patience« was sourced from Franz Schubert's 1827 piece 'Winterreise' and subjected to his perplexing processes, smudging and rubbing isolated fragments into a dust-caked haze of plangent keys, strangely resolved loops and de-pitched vocals which recede from view as eerily as they appear. Mastered by Lupo at D&M, the album is adorned with another specially commissioned painting by Ivan Seal.

Double 12" release

The Story — From the Streets of Rome to the Male Productions Label
In the early 1990s, Rome lived in a kind of suspended moment. The city was still tied to its historic clubs, yet in the outskirts—inside abandoned warehouses, quarries along the coastline, and the wooded parks north of the capital—something new was beginning to stir. A nocturnal, constantly shifting movement fuelled by a hunger for freedom and a sonic curiosity that reached far beyond the mainstream.

Moving through this ferment was Francesco “Chicco” Furlotti. First an organizer of unconventional parties and underground nights, he soon became one of the driving forces behind Rome’s itinerant rave scene. Furlotti sensed that a wave of change was about to sweep across the city. It wasn’t just about parties: it was the rise of a culture, a new way of thinking about music, community, and belonging.

It was within those nights—later held with official permits, properly built sound systems, and an ever-growing crowd—that Furlotti recognized the existence of a distinctly Roman sound, and the need to capture it, preserve it, and give it tangible form.
So, in 1991, he decided to take a bolder step: to found an independent record label—small, determined, and far removed from the commercial logic that dominated at the time.
That was the birth of Male Productions.

Male was not a label like any other: it was a workshop, a gathering point, a creative hub where DJs, producers, friends, and wanderers converged. Within that environment, an artistic core took shape—Stefano Di Carlo, Leo Young, and Mauro Tannino, along with other collaborators orbiting around Furlotti. From their synergy emerged a project whose very name declared its mission:

The True Underground Sound of Rome.

The collective did not simply aim to release music; it sought to tell a story of Rome through sounds that defied categorization: house, techno, ambient, electronic mysticism, psychedelic visions… a unique blend, instantly recognizable, emotional, and experimental. The sessions unfolded using essential yet razor-sharp gear: Roland drum machines, analogue synthesizers, Akai samplers, stripped-down mixers. Few tools, endless imagination.
The first result of this work was the 12” Secret Doctrine, released in 1991 in an extremely limited run—around 500 promotional copies, according to accounts. The record captured something that until then had floated only in the air of Roman raves: enveloping atmospheres, deep rhythms, melodies built to make the mind travel far beyond the dancefloor. A sound that did not imitate what was happening in Detroit, London, or Berlin, but absorbed those influences and re-sculpted them with a distinctly Roman sensibility.
Yet, precisely because it was independent and detached from commercial circuits, Male’s output remained sparse: few EPs, few copies, irregular distribution. Over time, those records became rare artifacts—almost mythical objects within the Italian electronic scene. The legacy of Male Productions seemed destined to survive only in the memories of those early years, in the stories told after raves, and in the private archives of a handful of collectors.
Many years later, thanks to the almost accidental rediscovery of a few original copies of the first two releases issued by Male Productions, it became possible to undertake a meticulous process of recovery and restoration of the audio etched into those grooves, with the aim of preserving as fully as possible the quality and character of that unrepeatable sound.

We are therefore able today to present — at last in a complete and faithful form — the first two mixes created for Male Productions, now released on a double vinyl that brings back into the present the exact moment when it all began: the nomadic nights of the raves, Furlotti’s vision, the creativity of Di Carlo, Young and Tannino, and the sonic identity of a Rome in the midst of transformation.

This is not merely a reissue.
It is a historical document.
A fragment of a culture that changed the city.
The authentic sound of the Roman underground, finally returned to the world.

“One foot out the door, another in the otherworld…”
So begins Hannah Lew’s debut, self-titled solo record, soaked in imperious, wide-eyed pop songwriting and a girl-group/post punk aesthetic that belies the artist’s history in the U.S. underground. A towering, hook-laden album, it’s infused with an optimism and surrealism that conversely deals with the times we find ourselves in.

Recorded at home in Richmond, CA and in The Best House studio with Maryam Qudus in Oakland CA, with the assistance of a crack team of West Coast musicians, this album sees Hannah Lew stepping out from behind the legacy of her two groups Grass Widow and Cold Beat. While musically bearing similarities with her previous work, “Hannah Lew” is a bold leap into direct pop territory, making ample use of a vocal style that teases out the inherent melancholy in her melodies. Mastered by Sarah Register, each song is a perfectly honed nugget that frequently pulls the heart in two directions at once.

Themes of change, breaking up, shattering old ways of being are shot through the record. For the front cover, a photograph of the artist’s face was printed, ripped up and re-assembled, resembling the creative process embarked upon by Lew for her first “solo” material. The album feels instinctual, almost dream-like in its assemblage of sweeping synths and pulsating, propulsive drum machine beat patterns with Lew’s vocal performances sensitive and caressing over the top. Increasingly relying on the subconscious and dreams to guide her creative process, Hannah Lew frequently abandons literal interpretations or linear narratives, the songs seeming to exist in a swooning, effortless flow-state while remaining emotionally hard hitting.

On an album where every song could be a single, there are kaleidoscopic shades and varying emotional tones in abundance. First single Another Twilight is carried along a pumping, Italo-disco-style 4/4 beat and mono-synth bass line, the low end pulling at the heart and body. Lew’s vocal melody teases the track before swan-diving into a gorgeous chorus as she sings “it’s all over baby and I don’t mind… in decline, I take my time…” The album is suffused with moments like this. On slow builder Damaged Melody, an arpeggiated synth elongates the verse before a cascading synth showers down melodic glitter. The stunning Replica uses dual swirling synth patterns before a driving, synthpop chorus for the ages carries Hannah Lew’s vocal into the stereo field, sailing in on a high register singed with the embers of a break up.

In a departure from previous groups, her solo songs are guided by dreams and free association inspired by Dada and the Surrealist movement and sculpted afterwards. As such, the songs reveal themselves on repeated listens, revealing traces of heartbreak inspired by both personal and global elements - Hannah Lew regards the album “a wartime album.” On Move In Silence, Lew intones “there’s a war outside, just out of view,” revealing the dichotomy at play throughout. With the songs evolving naturally and in a flow state, the pressures and sadnesses of the modern age bleed through, mixed in with Lew’s inherent love, sensitivity and fractured-but-intact optimism. On the swooning, sublime Sunday layers of Numanoid synths open up for the commanding vocal performance pontificating on grief, love, pain as she “feels the ache on Sunday…” As the chorus builds and Lew’s call-and-response vocal adds to the emotional tension, it almost feels like too much to take.

Elsewhere, there are echoes of Hannah Lew’s previous work. On Time Wasted a bass guitar comes in with a heavy, punk attack before the synths and vocal harmonies reminiscent of later Cold Beat elevate everything. The glassy, sweetly resigned closer The Clock sounds like so classic it could be cover, a sweetened Jesus & Mary Chain tune perhaps, before it erupts into volcanic chorus that could only come from Hannah Lew in 2026.

HLZ delivers his debut album for Metalheadz with 'All My Life', a project shaped by patience, experience and a deep rooted connection to the label's sound. The album began with the title track, first played during Goldie's residency at XOYO before eventually making its way to the label, and it was from that moment that the idea of a full-length record started to take shape. Around the same time HLZ moved back to Italy, embracing a slower pace of life that gave him the space and focus to bring the project together. Rather than following a fixed concept, 'All My Life' grew naturally in the studio. HLZ approached the process with what he calls a sense of humble confidence, trusting his instincts while staying grounded in the culture that shaped him. The aim was simple: to make music that could last beyond the short cycles that often define modern releases. Across the album, HLZ moves between soulful depth with a classic Metalheadz twang, into moments that push beyond his usual territory. From the title track's unmistakable Headz spirit to more exploratory pieces like 'Roadblock' and the introspective 'Solitary', 'All My Life' captures an artist fully settled in his voice. More than anything, the album reflects HLZ's deep connection to the music and the sound that has influenced him from the very beginning.

In a Secret Room is a retrospective that reopens the sonic and visual archive of KKD, bringing back to light a trajectory that long remained underground within the history of Italian new wave. The tracks, recorded between 1979 and 1986, reflect a constantly evolving process shaped by experimentation, improvisation, and a drive toward new languages. The project takes shape inside a former hotel in Italy’s Po Valley, transformed into a studio, rehearsal space, and visual lab.

Here, among analog synthesizers, homemade electronics, and multitrack recorders, Kriminal Killer Division experimented with and pushed their available technology to its limits, developing a hybrid language: sounds captured from radio and the street, synthetic voices, guitars, and electronic sequences intertwine in compositions that move between art rock, minimal wave, and more industrial directions. This collection aims precisely to reactivate that imaginary. The vinyl is accompanied by a risograph fanzine that restores the project’s visual dimension: collages, photographs, and graphic materials reflecting the same experimental attitude found in the recordings. Sound and image move together, as parts of a single expressive device. In a Secret Room offers access to a hidden space where interference, noise, and intuition take form without mediation. Not a nostalgic operation, but a re-emergence: a living archive that continues to generate meaning in the present.

Cello player and electronic artist Martina Bertoni returns with her 2nd album for Karl: Hypnagogia delivers six new, masterfully crafted tracks between experimental ambient, drone and modern composition.

Cellist and composer Martina Bertoni started playing the cello at a very young age. Classically trained, her career further developed around experimental and film music, for which her cello has been featured in numerous records, works and soundtracks for films and series. After two EPs and her debut full length All The Ghosts Are Gone (2020), Bertoni joined the Karl roster where she released Music For Empty Flats in January 2021 to critical acclaim (a.o. one of the Top Ten drone albums of 2021).

On her new album Hypnagogia she continues to explore the sonic possibilities of her cello which she uses as primary source for composition and sound processing through reverbs, feedbacks and sub-bass frequencies, thus crafting sonic sculptures, rich of atmospheres and frictions, fed by ambient as much as drone and modern composition.

In the words of Martina Bertoni:
"The six tracks that constitute Hypnagogia have been written during 2021 and partially inspired by the reading of Stanislaw Lem's book Solaris. The title refers to a transitional state of consciousness from wakefulness to sleep, during which one might experience sensorial hallucinations and lucid dreaming, and can tap into the pristine structures of the subconscious. Hypnagogia portraits an imaginary cosmic journey of the Self that crash ends into a blinding sun."

For her new and most radical album »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone«, Martina Bertoni used the electronic instrument at EMS Stockholm to create four pieces that are massive in scale and incredibly intimate, sonically restrained and emotionally overwhelming—almost ambient and always demanding your full attention.

Martina Bertoni returns to Karlrecords with »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone,« her most radical album yet. The foundation for the four electroacoustic pieces was laid during a residency at Stockholm’s legendary Elektronmusikstudion (EMS) that the Berlin-based cellist and composer used to explore the curious instrument, originally designed by Halldór Úlfarsson in 2008, as an algorithmic system in order to examine tunings and the mathematical relationships between Aiming to analyse and understand their interaction beyond the composer’s control, Bertoni sought to engage more deeply with the concepts of time, tuning, and, most importantly, control. Accordingly, her four »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone« seem both massive in scale and incredibly intimate, sonically restrained and emotionally overwhelming— almost ambient and always demanding your full attention.

While the halldorophone—famously used by Hildur Guðnadóttir for her »Joker« score—roughly resembles a cello and can be played like one, it is an electronic instrument. The vibration of its strings is being picked up, amplified, and then routed through a speaker. This creates a feedback loop that becomes increasingly complex depending on how much gain is added to individual strings. Úlfarsson gave Bertoni a carte blanche for how to handle the instrument, but she stresses that she relied on »minimal interventions—some string strumming and plucking« that set the interactions of different sounds and frequencies into motion. »I decided to not approach it like a cellist would,« she explains. »Instead I used it as a kind of generative organ by turning it into a feedback machine, with tuned feedback triggering more feedback depending on the tuning, which was based on tetraphonic scales that I could apply on the four main strings as well as the sympathetic group of strings.«

Bertoni recorded the material in the EMS studio, later composing and arranging the four complex pieces in her home in Berlin, after which they were mixed and mastered by Ciaran O’Shea. While this can be considered a compositional abstraction process, traces of her concrete work as a performer are firmly ingrained in the music. »The halldorophone doesn’t have a line output, just a double set of speakers, which is why I recorded all sounds with two microphones in the EMS studio,« she explains. »That’s why there’s plenty of breathing sounds here and there—label owner Thomas Herbst and I jokingly refer to the album as my ›chamber music record‹.« And indeed, there is a striking sense of intimacy to these four pieces throughout which individual sounds, harmonic frequencies, and even subtle rhythmic figures seem to move both on their own accord but also according to a underlying vision that steers their interplay.

Indeed, »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone« is an album built on and marked by contrasts. The soothing polylogue of single sounds in the higher register on opener »Omen in G« is counterpointed by massive bass drones, while the second piece, »Nominal in D,« plays a cunning game of repetition and difference by combining thick textures with all kinds of rhythmic elements. »Fades in C«—the longest of the four pieces, clocking in at 17 minutes—unlocks the emotional potentials of the sonic qualities of the halldorophone, sounding at once serene and anthemic, and »Organon in D« closes the album by underscoring how Bertoni’s unconventional approach allows her to seamlessly transform simple, quiet tones into complex, towering walls of sound.

Rose Connolly has a beautiful voice with a wide melodic range, which she bends, twists, strains and warps through both her physical exertions and a sample-based granular synthesiser. The results recall both the Gaelic tradition of séan-nos singing, and the work of experimental artists such as Meredith Monk, Yoko Ono and Hatis Noit, while the beats meld folk with gothic, 4AD-era soundscapes unmatched since the glory days of This Mortal Coil.” – The Guardian (10 Best Folk Albums of 2024) “RÓIS is a composer, vocalist, multi-instrumentalist, and electronic artist from Fermanagh, whose songs breathe new life into a forgotten Ireland. Self-released, written and produced by RÓIS with additional production from John Spud Murphy (OXN/Lankum), 'MO LÉAN' is a concept album, taking the listener through the grieving process from start to finish, from the chaos that loss brings, to the intense emotional outpourings and finally, a cathartic release.

‘MO LÉAN' features several new original recordings and reworks of songs and hymns based around the concept of death, life, mourning and catharsis. RÓIS re-imagines the tradition of 'keening' in Ireland that goes back to pre-christian times, a practice in which women would 'keen' a lamenting wail at the side of a coffin during a wake. After discovering the last two recordings of keening songs, RÓIS was inspired by their ethereal melodies to give them a modern reworking yet honouring the original women by sampling them in her adaption. 'Keeners', through their voices, movements and laments, conveyed the communal expression of grief and allowed those suffering a way to release their sorrow and loss. RÓIS aspires to do the same with 'MO LÉAN', by expressing the power of the voice to transcend death and help us relinquish our fear of it

There’s no direct English translation for the word “hiraeth”. In the Welsh language, it describes a form of longing for an intangible something, somewhere or someone that no longer exists. Sofie Birch and Antonina Nowacka draw on the concept to guide their second collaborative album, a suite of vulnerable, open-hearted improvisations and reflections that attempt to grasp an image of the past that’s chimeric, dissolving almost as soon as it materializes. The duo’s process follows the same distant beacon; unlike Languoria, their critically acclaimed debut, Hiraeth is, at heart, an acoustic record, informed by in-person improvisations with voices and string instruments that gesture to an era before computers, AI and DAWs. It’s just as lush, but Hiraeth is warmer and more muted than its predecessor.
Nowacka and Birch conceived the album in the wake of a slew of collaborative live concerts, spurred on by serendipitous improvisations and an interest in paring down their setup. Unsound arranged a retreat in Sokołowsko, an idyllic village nestled in the verdant hills of Southern Poland, close to the Czech border. Sokołowsko surrounds a large ruined sanatorium that’s rumored to have inspired Thomas Mann’s 1924 novel The Magic Mountain, and has long been a magnet for artists. The two took the opportunity to rethink their approach completely, arriving with just a guitar, a zither and a portable Nagra reel-to-reel machine. Recording directly to tape, they sketched out ideas with just their voices and instruments, reflecting their surroundings without being distracted or mediated by modern technology.
“We wanted to get away from screens as much as possible,” says Birch, “to bring to the world something vulnerable and honest. Without advance preparation, every day we went out into the open air, finding places to sit, during sunset or the midday sun. We discovered new tunings on our instruments, picked up a melody, and started the machine, playing over
and over till we got a take.” In the autumn, they met again in a Copenhagen studio, sparingly and carefully layering old synths and organs to add more depth without muddying the mix.
Both Nowacka and Birch sing throughout, their voices threading the acoustic instruments and tangling with each other, almost becoming one. But it’s the environment of Sokołowsko, “the birds and the light, even the wind playing against the harps,” that’s woven into the music’s lining. Affected by time spent meditating and in nature, as well as the fact that Birch was pregnant whilst recording, the album feels alive and remarkably present. Even the sound quality of the tape machine gives Hiraeth a tactile, organic quality, as Nowacka puts it, “like being in a warm bath.”

They still have the raw recordings from Sokołowsko on old reels, physical souvenirs of their time spent making music in a “habitat for intuitive songs, a little ecosystem, alive and spirited.” The outmoded gear and remote setting helped the duo disengage from the modern world for a few moments and imagine an existence that’s been lost to time and nominal progress. With digital technology receding into the background, Nowacka and Birch had space to make “intuitive connections with frequencies and people,” as Birch explains. Hiraeth is a testament not to nostalgia, but to the power of kinship.

There's a tendency in metal to mistake aggression for honesty, volume for depth. To confuse the performance of darkness with its actual weight. Hidden Fires Burn Hottest, the new album from San Francisco-based post-black metal band Bosse-de-Nage, sidesteps this entirely. It’s the group’s most fully realized work yet, precisely because it refuses to be pinned down.

Bosse-de-Nage have been working with The Flenser for over fifteen years. They were one of the first bands the label ever partnered with and have the longest active relationship in the label's history. But unlike most bands who build momentum through constant touring and visibility, Bosse-de-Nage has largely existed apart from the music world's usual machinery. They've evolved on their own terms, in relative isolation, allowing the work to develop without outside pressure or influence. What began rooted in black metal anonymity has mutated into something that actively defies categorization. The aggression is still there, but it's no longer the point. Hidden Fires Burn Hottest finds the band treating emotions like physical objects, feelings with spatial properties. “No Such Place"" describes a space that can't exist but does anyway, somewhere between thought and location. ""Immortality Project"" examines infinite possibility not as promise but as problem, endless options collapsing under their own weight. These songs don't use metaphor to describe emotion. They make emotion into something you could theoretically touch.
Tracked by Jack Shirley (Deafheaven, Oathbreaker) at Atomic Garden East and mixed and mastered by Richard Chowenhill of Agriculture, Hidden Fires Burn Hottest was years in development, with some tracks beginning in 2018.

The long writing process offered time that most records don't get. Time to live with ideas, revise endlessly, to let structures settle. For the first time, lyricist Bryan Manning wrote everything in advance, creating a surplus to pull from rather than working under deadline pressure. The difference shows.
Coming off Further Still, an album built on constraint and economy, Bosse-de-Nage sought the opposite: sprawl, strangeness, fewer rules. Space for ideas to develop without rushing them. Dynamics that move through quiet as much as noise. Presence earned through atmosphere instead of volume. The record even includes ""Mementos,"" which might be considered the first love song the band has ever written.

Nothing here coheres into a theme. These are pieces pulled from low moments and private feelings made public through sound. The band has never been interested in positivity, in music that resolves cleanly or offers comfort. But bleakness doesn't mean humorlessness. There's something darkly funny running through much of it, even when it shouldn't be.
Hidden Fires Burn Hottest doesn't explain itself. It just insists: what you feel is as real as what you can see."

London trio, thredd’s, acclaimed 2025 debut ‘It’s Lovely, Come On In’ available for the first time on vinyl. thredd is the latest project from musicians Will Lister, Max Winter, and Imogen and The Knife who came together as the first (and only) band formed during the infamous Laylow residency in West London.

Over the course of 4 weeks in November 2023, the trio set up a makeshift studio in Laylow’s basement venue and wrote music to be performed live each Wednesday, embracing a raw, immediate approach with no room for overthinking. The result is a sound they call “cold pop”, a mix of atmospheric textures, sharp melodies, and emotional depth. Since then, they’ve built on their diverse strengths having already played the ICA and supported Nourished by Time across the UK.

Having shared a studio in South London together since 2020, the trio have collaborated and cross-pollinated their musical approach while taking time to hone their individual crafts; Will’s drum programming and production, Max’s ear for harmony and composition, Immy’s lyrics, melody and vocal delivery. With music that both feels familiar yet boundary pushing, ear catching and intriguing, it becomes a true sum of its parts celebrating the individualism of each musician.

The album ‘It’s Lovely, Come On In’ moves between late-night indie, synth- driven pop, and stripped-back songwriting with emotional weight. Tracks like ‘Horseshow’ showcase Will’s tight post-triphop inspired beats, Max’s harmonic instincts, and Immy’s evocative vocals. ‘We Don’t Speak Anymore’ came together in a day, capturing a sharp, defiant energy. ‘Something For My Head’ is a late-night, anxious love song, while the title track has a defiant repetitive energy. The lead single ‘Party’ bursts with bold, euphoric energy, and ‘Funny Girl’ strips back to something vulnerable, inspired by a haunting vocal sample and personal notes.

The record channels the layered, mysterious atmosphere of Laylow’s basement, shaped by the building’s winding corridors and hidden rooms. Themes of fatigue, release, and creative survival run throughout, born from a pressure-free, collaborative process.

‘It’s Lovely, Come On In’ feels honest and immediate, a collection made to capture a moment, not polish it away. As they put it, the record is for people who are “Up for a party, down for a cry.” The album doesn’t make grand claims; it simply invites you in.

Aquainted through their shared love of music technology, and now a friendship, this is the second-time pairing between German artist Arovane and American artist Taylor Deupree after their first release together in November 2022: »Skal_Ghost« on 12k.

This new release explores once more an organic journey built around loops and layers or processed and re-processed sounds giving this particular color to a must-have album.

"Imagine a classic singer/songwriter record loaded with the intimacy and grit reminiscent of Alex Chilton or Nikki Sudden." Shindig

Los Angeles singer-songwriter Tracy Bryant returns with his new album The Well, which is his first release since 2019’s critically acclaimed Hush. His fourth solo album, The Well marks a striking new chapter, trading his signature guitar-driven sound for piano-led songwriting that took root during the pandemic. The album was born out of one of the most turbulent periods of his life, written in the wake of his father’s sudden passing and birth of his first child. It was produced by longtime friend and compatriot Joo-Joo Ashworth at Studio 22 in Cypress Park, CA, and mastered by Dave Cooley at Elysian Masters. The nine songs are filled with raw emotion and driving motorik rhythm, telling tales of loss and love, relationships beginning and ending.
 
When the pandemic upended Bryant’s promotion for Hush and brought his 2019 European tour to a halt, he found himself at home rediscovering his musical roots at the piano, listening to Vince Guaraldi and Arthur Russell to take inspiration for the song structures. Without a band around, Bryant used the instrument to create both rhythm and melody, which resulted in a repetitive and precise backbeat, which was elevated when he began working with drummer Carmeron Gartung to rehearse the new songs. This different approach would define the style of The Well, creating an amalgamation of sounds with classic songwriting structures blended with post-punk, 90s indie, krautrock and psychedelia.
 
To produce the record, Bryant turned to Joo-Joo Ashworth, who share a friendship stretching back to 2011 (when Joo Joo was only 18) when both of their bands, Corners and Froth, were at the forefront of the bourgeoning Los Angeles/Echo Park music scene of the time and embarked on their first national tours together. Ashworth, who has since become one of underground music’s most respected producers, recorded the album throughout 2024/2025 on half inch tape at Studio 22 in Cypress Park, California, giving The Well a warm, considered sound that matches the weight of its subject matter.
 
The album’s emotional core was forged by two significant life events arriving in close succession. In January 2022, Bryant’s father passed away unexpectedly at the age of 67. Just three months later, Tracy and his wife welcomed their first child. The Well is a direct result of those experiences, a songwriter processing grief and joy, endings and beginnings in real time. 
 
The nine songs take the listener on a meticulously crafted journey through the nooks and crannies of Bryant’s mind. Spanning 37 minutes, the album is an exploration of classic songwriting elements moving fluidly between driving beat punk, like “Weight” and “Widow”, and more melancholic tracks like “Halfway” and “Danny”. Album opener “Cold Floor” sets the tone immediately, Bryant’s lyrics confronting the day of his father’s death with unflinching directness – the breezy California piano sound is in direct contrast to the heavy theme. The Bowie-esque title track is perhaps the album’s most expansive moment – a fully realised epic composed with a dynamic flare. 
 
 The Well feels like an arrival. Dramatic and expansive, it is a true, visceral reflection of the life changing events that altered the course of Bryant’s life. Fans will be surprised by the heavy focus on piano but they will welcome the change as a bold turning point for an artist who has lived long enough to know exactly what he wants to say. 

Some previous press:

"feels like a slice of California, down to its ringing post-surf guitars and bright melodies, but cross-cut with a folk sensibility more aligned to the work of Elliot Smith or, on occasions, Conor Oberst." Uncut - lead album review

"…sees the Los Angeles rocker confront both the finer and uglier aspects of love and life, combining classic rock with psychedelic tinges and catchy melodies." Evening Standard 4*s

Lau Nau (Laura Naukkarinen), Linda Fredriksson and Matti Bye enter the We Jazz Records realm as Kiri Ra!, a trio that creates their sound slowly, in a process of improvisation and discovery. Filtered through the musicians" long-standing friendship and collaboration, Kiri Ra!"s music is a testament to the joy of creation and invention. Their sound together draws from each of the the artists" work before, while creating new world of sound. Their music is about letting go and being free to take in the even softest whisper and the most minute sonic particle to complete a mosaic filled with beauty. Kiri Ra! follow their own path with courage, showing how letting go can create new worlds.

OOH-sounds family members more eaze, pardo & glass join forces on a celestial album linking ambient neo-folk, fractured electronics and romantic escapism.

Referencing to Wim Wenders' 1984 road-movie drama masterpiece, 'paris paris, texas texas' is a strikingly cinematic tapestry of americana, resampled guitars, glistening electronics, subtle field recordings and processed vocals.

The beginnings of this project date back to the summer of 2022 when pardo and glass started recording some improvisations in a small studio with the aim of making an experimental guitar record. Over time, the drafts developed into mesmerizing slabs of guitar textures, simultaneously immense and intimate. No material was better suited for more eaze to add to the recordings her transversal and sensitive approach, linking the past and the present.

Ranging from gentle ambient folk to winding pedal steel passages, from twinkling electronics to distorted drones, 'paris paris, texas texas' is an album that's not just "atmospheric", it conjures its own unique atmosphere from thin air. Like a snake shedding its skin, the record slowly mutates from track to track - an epiphany, a transformation, a tangible and perceptible moment. Despite its distant trans-Atlantic origins, it evokes a warmth and intimacy that is hard to deny, an emotion that has perhaps been held back for too long. A landmark release in OOH's catalogue, capturing the magic of its curation and sensibility in one sublime record.

Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi, artwork by incepBOY, words by Adam Badi Donoval

XDCVR_ unveils 'I HATE THAT SHIT, I HATE ALL THAT SHIT' a blistering sonic manifesto on the 'performativity of decay'.

In a world saturated with digital perfection, the album emerges as a vital, hand-made act of electronic rebellion.

Framed as a "soundtrack for the end stretch" the record explores the notion that societal decay is not a passive process, but an active performance—a machine chugging along long after its wheels have fallen off.

This is cyborg music for a bifurcated reality: carbon-fiber toughness shielding a core of systemic rot. The sound palette is intentionally raw and imperfect, a direct challenge to the sterile, automated order of what the artist calls the "techno-fascist oligarchy."

Tracks eschew conventional temporality, mirroring the feeling of existing in two concurrent timelines—one hyper-aware of the collapse, the other numbly consuming it.

Drawing a line from the Cold War anxieties of the past to the data-farming dystopia of the present, 'I HATE THAT SHIT…' posits art as the last authentic incubator for societal change. It is, in the artist's words, "a deliberate 'fuck you' to the oppressive order of the status quo. This is not easy listening; it is a contested space, a lit fuse, and a necessary noise for our complicated times."

Feeling Is Structure explores the relationship between physical form and human emotion.

Across 10 spatial audio-visual works, Cooper examines how structure in sound, architecture, biology and art, shapes the way we feel.

The album is built on the idea that our inner emotional lives are profoundly connected from our lived environment. Developed from a commission to create a live show for London’s Royal Albert Hall, expanding on this idea, Max explains:

“I’m fascinated by architects who can imbue brutalist buildings with humanity, or artists who can paint a block of colour representing their soul.” says Cooper. “We have this remarkable capacity to spill ourselves into the world through form. When I began working on a show for the Royal Albert Hall, that connection between large-scale physical structures and feeling took over, and this album emerged from that process.”

Musically, Feeling Is Structure leans into Cooper’s more intricate and deliberate compositional side. Rather than improvisation, the record focuses on carefully designed systems and processes that build evolving sonic architectures. Precise at the micro level, but deeply emotive in impact.

Al Wahem (“The Illusion”) is the new full-length release by PRAED, the Swiss–Lebanese duo of Raed Yassin and Paed Conca. Recorded between Beirut and Berlin, the album returns to the group’s central aesthetic: a rhythm-driven weave of Egyptian shaabi, electronics, improvisation and the gritty pulse of street-level sound. Nearly twenty years into the project, PRAED have distilled their approach into four pieces that subtly shift the listener’s bearings, reordering grooves and fragments until familiar elements take on new identities.
The twenty-minute title track sets the tone. A tightly interlocking two-drum foundation from Pascal Semerdjian and Ayman Zebdawi shapes a structure that expands steadily: synth figures branch outward, clarinet and bass lines act as internal guideposts, and brief vocal calls from Yassin and guest singer Mayssa Jallad sit inside the texture rather than leading it. PRAED’s shaabi keyboard language is present, but the duo stretch it outward, building tension and movement through patient accumulation.

“Al Hathayan,” at 4:46, tightens the focus. Conca’s clarinet moves between melodic arcs and clipped rhythmic gestures, threading through electronic loops that surface and disappear. Zebdawi’s percussion adds a raw, tactile quality, placing acoustic patterns and electronics in direct conversation. The piece acts as a bridge between the album’s two long-form compositions.
Side B begins with “Al Maraya,” a thirteen-minute piece that relies on electronic, bass and clarinet interplay. The atmosphere nods to the breadth of PRAED Orchestra!, but remains anchored in the duo’s rhythmic foundations. Rather than building mass, the layering creates a sense of depth, as if new spaces were opening inside the groove.
The album closes with “Assarab,” featuring keyboardist Amr Said. Semerdjian and Zebdawi again form a dual percussive axis, while synths hover between melody and pulse, and themes recur in widening circles rather than building vertically. The porous boundary between electronic and acoustic sources — processed clarinet mistaken for a sequencer, rhythmic figures springing from live drums — is where the album’s theme of “illusion” shows itself most clearly.

Al Wahem follows a long arc: early releases on Annihaya, a key appearance on Ruptured Sessions Vol. 5 – Live at Radio Lebanon (2013), later albums on Akuphone, and the large-scale PRAED Orchestra! documented on Morphine Records. This new Ruptured/Annihaya co-release brings the duo back to a concentrated format, reorganizing their familiar materials with renewed clarity and intent.

Shaped from fragile, emotionally charged piano motifs that distort, disappear and transform into dense, cinematic textures, 'CANALS' is a debut that's finely matured, the result of years of friendship and growth. Italian artist Vanja Sturno and Montréal-based Belgian-Spanish composer Pablo Geeraert (aka Sanea Ima) have worked together extensively on various projects up until now, but 'CANALS' is their first official release as a duo. Having both studied music academically, the pair were eager to work more intuitively, so applied their well-honed set of skills to sound that, instead of fitting into a conceptual box, reflected more personal experiences.

Back in 2023, Geeraert travelled to Rome to support his friend at a difficult time and, during the trip, received some bad news of his own. The complicated feelings unconsciously surged through a series of delicate Ryuichi Sakamoto-inspired piano improvisations and a new project began to coalesce. They didn't realize it at the time, but once the record was finished, Sturno and Geeraert began to understand that the entire process had been a form a joint catharsis - a release of pressure. They were able to function so effortlessly and swiftly because they had already provided the space for each other to resonate emotionally and the music flowed from that point.

So the album's title, while remaining ambiguous, suggests its formation: a sequence of eight interconnected channels that feed a creative whole. On the first segment, Sturno and Geeraert's initial recordings can be perceived most nakedly, the melancholy, Satie-like phrases floating peacefully for a moment before the tranquility is agitated by stormy distortions and swelled into thick waves of harmony. The piano provides the record with its emotional anchor, offering focus and clarity as multi-dimensional noise wells up around it before inevitably dissipating, leaving gentle, unadorned sounds once again.

And the familiar instrument is reshaped into a wheezing artificial organ on the animated 'CANALS III', punctuated by percussive, tape-warped pitch fluctuations that seem to bite into its very essence. Gauzy acoustic granulations snowball into a powerful, bass-heavy crescendo on the fourth part, setting the tenor for the album's second half. But after the crushing 'CANALS VI', possibly Sturno and Geeraert's heaviest track, a brief tremolo-heavy vignette that ripples through experimental rock and ambient music's braided history, the duo clear the air with a jazzy diversion, introducing soft woodwind blasts as a palate cleanser before an epic, widescreen finale.

It's an album that's best absorbed as a whole, a vortex of ritualistic, rhythmic repetitions that Sturno and Geeraert appropriately refer to as "spiral listening".