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As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process. Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever. The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before. ‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract. There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.

Developer returns to his personal vinyl imprint Developer Archive with the label’s 17th release, continuing a focused exploration of raw, hypnotic techno built for physical spaces. Known globally as the driving force behind Modularz, Developer uses the Archive series as a more direct and uncompromising outlet—stripped back, functional, and deeply immersive.

This latest release locks into groove-based cuts powered by tension and restraint, where repetition becomes ritual and subtle shifts create sustained drama. The rhythms are dense and forward-moving, designed to work equally well in the pressure of a warehouse or the precision of a darkened club.

With Developer Archive 17, Developer reinforces his commitment to vinyl as a medium and to techno as a tool for controlled intensity—music that doesn’t chase trends, but instead sharpens its purpose with each release.

The first resonant space Zosha Warpeha played in was the Emanuel Vigeland Museum in Oslo, Norway. Built as a mausoleum, its walls reach up into a gradual archway, creating an environment where sound expands and reverberates for twelve seconds before decaying into silence. Warpeha was greeted only by dim lights when she entered, and it wasn’t until she had spent several minutes listening that she was able to make out the frescoes that covered every inch of the room: graphic depictions of the cycle of life from conception through death. As the sound of her Hardanger d’amore encountered the walls and these slowly emerging scenes, they obscured its point of origin in both time and space, augmenting its own life cycle. The experience sat in the back of her mind over the next several years as she developed her own patient style of composition and performance, one that comes into full bloom on her new album I grow accustomed to the dark.

When Warpeha was selected as an artist in residence at Brooklyn’s ISSUE Project Room in 2025, she saw it as an opportunity to more intentionally explore how her music might fill a room with ample natural reverb. I grow accustomed to the dark documents two single-take solo performances for Hardanger d’amore and voice at IPR, with both pieces composed in a unique tuning system developed to interact with the space itself. Listeners can trace resonance from the contact of the bow on gut strings into the body of the instrument, its five sympathetic strings offering another layer of refraction, before the sound is thrown about the cavity of the room. The echoes emerge like a photographic double exposure, or wisps of smoke that linger in the air, creating ghostly harmonic convergences that blur the line between what is there and not-there. Sound begins to act like light, a synesthetic alchemy that transforms drones into beams and ornamental trills into flickers.

Both side-long compositions, “filament” and “visual purple,” exemplify a duality that animates Warpeha’s music: an expressive, individualistic style that draws on extensive knowledge of her instrument’s history in folk traditions, and an austere, devotional quality maintained by focus and precision. Though very different in character and structure, both pieces evolve slowly through numerous repetitive phrases, passages of stillness, and bursts of intensity. “filament” opens with a cycle of delicate melodic fragments played and sung around a drone before blossoming into an outpouring of swooping arpeggios, harmonics flying from the strings like sparks off a bonfire. The disorienting pulsation of harmonic beating forms the core of “visual purple,” the close-tone dissonance building to a swarm of open strings ringing boldly throughout the space. After the knotty tones reach their climax, the piece collapses into studied quietude, hushed, but without any drop in intensity.

When Warpeha first visited the Vigeland Museum in 2019, she was in Oslo to deepen her relationship to the Hardanger fiddle through the study of Norwegian traditional music, which is primarily passed down aurally. The experience of learning songs by ear, not only internalizing the tune but also absorbing the techniques and tonalities by listening, was a crucial step in her development as a composer. The years since have seen her sharpen those skills as a prolific member of the New York avant-garde and improvised music communities. Warpeha’s music encourages listeners to join her in this journey, to listen closely with each repeated phrase and through each dramatic shift. Like the frescoes on Vigeland’s walls, with time and intention, the depth of I grow accustomed to the dark comes on like a revelation.

Born in Douarnenez, at the far edge of Brittany (France), Komodor has quickly established itself as one of the most vibrant names in the French rock landscape. Their high-energy rock, fueled by fuzz, sweat, and vocal harmonies woven in the spirit of MC5 and T. Rex, immediately drew attention: Rolling Stone, Rock & Folk, Libération and Rock Hard Germany all praised the fiery impact of their debut album Nasty Habits (which sold over 2,000 vinyl copies). Since then, the quintet has mostly lived on the road: a long European tour, followed by the larger-than-life saga of Komodrag & The Mounodor, carrying them to stages such as Hellfest, Les Vieilles Charrues, and the Francofolies de La Rochelle, among many others.

Their second album, Time & Space, reveals a band in full metamorphosis. Without abandoning the explosive force that defines them, Komodor widens its scope: volcanic riffs, more sinuous grooves, mist-laden harmonies, psychedelic flashes… The energy is still wild, but more inhabited, more liberated, almost ceremonial at times. The record opens with two telling bursts: Bliss & Joy, a libertarian charge with the feel of a manifesto, and Soul Tricker, a rock incantation where trance overtakes sheer electric assault. Two sides of the same coin, pulled taut between urgency and enchantment.

On stage, Komodor remains a true shockwave, forged across European festivals (Freak Valley, Motocultor, Fête du Bruit, and more) and now awaited at the legendary Desertfest London. Their music feels made for such spaces: a visceral, flesh-and-amp kind of rock, drawing from the seventies’ heritage to speak even more vividly to the present. A band moving forward at full volume, without nostalgia or calculation, carried by a simple conviction: as long as the amps are hot, rock can still burn.

In short: Komodor is the band of friends from Douarnenez bringing pencil-and-paper rock into the streaming age while preserving its analog soul (with the album mastered at the legendary Miraval Studios), the smell of warm tubes, the grain of vinyl. With this second album, they hit harder, truer, and more vividly than ever.
Time & Space stands as a “must-have French rock record”, a tangible piece worth cherishing in any collection.

Born in Douarnenez, at the far edge of Brittany (France), Komodor has quickly established itself as one of the most vibrant names in the French rock landscape. Their high-energy rock, fueled by fuzz, sweat, and vocal harmonies woven in the spirit of MC5 and T. Rex, immediately drew attention: Rolling Stone, Rock & Folk, Libération and Rock Hard Germany all praised the fiery impact of their debut album Nasty Habits (which sold over 2,000 vinyl copies). Since then, the quintet has mostly lived on the road: a long European tour, followed by the larger-than-life saga of Komodrag & The Mounodor, carrying them to stages such as Hellfest, Les Vieilles Charrues, and the Francofolies de La Rochelle, among many others.

Their second album, Time & Space, reveals a band in full metamorphosis. Without abandoning the explosive force that defines them, Komodor widens its scope: volcanic riffs, more sinuous grooves, mist-laden harmonies, psychedelic flashes… The energy is still wild, but more inhabited, more liberated, almost ceremonial at times. The record opens with two telling bursts: Bliss & Joy, a libertarian charge with the feel of a manifesto, and Soul Tricker, a rock incantation where trance overtakes sheer electric assault. Two sides of the same coin, pulled taut between urgency and enchantment.

On stage, Komodor remains a true shockwave, forged across European festivals (Freak Valley, Motocultor, Fête du Bruit, and more) and now awaited at the legendary Desertfest London. Their music feels made for such spaces: a visceral, flesh-and-amp kind of rock, drawing from the seventies’ heritage to speak even more vividly to the present. A band moving forward at full volume, without nostalgia or calculation, carried by a simple conviction: as long as the amps are hot, rock can still burn.

In short: Komodor is the band of friends from Douarnenez bringing pencil-and-paper rock into the streaming age while preserving its analog soul (with the album mastered at the legendary Miraval Studios), the smell of warm tubes, the grain of vinyl. With this second album, they hit harder, truer, and more vividly than ever.
Time & Space stands as a “must-have French rock record”, a tangible piece worth cherishing in any collection.

With two deeply cherished compilations already in the bag, Luke Una steps up for the third volume in his É Soul Cultura series on Mr Bongo. A love letter to the dancefloor and its power to unite people from all corners of society amid growing division and extremist politics. Genre-spanning in nature, the 15 tracks travel between cosmic soul, boogie, proto-house, slo-mo technoid grooves, drum machine afro, astral bass-bugging futurism, jazz funk, dance, and disco. Each having the ability to move the body as much as the heart.
 
From his formative years in Sheffield to co-founding Manchester’s much-fabled Electric Chair with Justin Crawford, through to helming the iconic LGBTQ institutions of Homoelectric / Homobloc, Luke has spent 40 years immersed in dance music. His latest outlet, É Soul Cultura, has grown from a label to a globe-spanning events series with Luke holding residencies and embarking on tours across the world from Japan and Australia to America and Europe. 
 
“For me, the dancefloor was never about a one-dimensional, thudding, 130 BPM beat only. It's a much more dynamic, broader vision than that. I cut my teeth in an era where a 100 BPM record had as much impact, excitement, and energy as a 134 BPM dancefloor jazz funk or techno record”, Luke mentions. É Soul Cultura Volume 3 is the perfect embodiment of that notion: “It’s about four decades in the trenches playing dance music, the late-night afters, the shebeens, the basements, warehouse parties, the eight-hour journeys in East London, through to festival sets at Houghton and We Out Here. It’s music unconstrained by genre or tempo and more about making your body move”. 

But this isn’t simply a collection of disparate dance tracks; they carry meaning and soul. “It’s less about escapism, more about reconnection. My experience of post-covid has been the coming together of all the clans in various clubs and gatherings. A reaction to a very toxic world out there, where the aggro rhythms of division have sought to divide us, and people don't meet as often. The coming back together face-to-face in clubs has encouraged a real love in the air, there's a real togetherness and collective spirit”.
 
Opening up the compilation is a track that channels that very message, the transcendental, soul-rousing Harris & Orr ‘Spread Love’. Joining the dots from there, to the low-slung deep house closer of Fatdog ‘Remember’, you’ll find electronic drum machine Nigerian funk, sitting side by side with dancefloor Cape Verdean brilliance, a post-punk cover of Fela Kuti, rubbing shoulders with cosmic electro, and an Una-championed, 8-minute, kickless DJ Harvey remix. There’s jazz funk in various guises moving from boogie synth to astral travelling, slo-mo acidic raw techno, and a ‘79 soul stepper, alongside swirling percussive Italo disco and tribal-charged house. All infused with an innate ability to bring people together.
 
As society becomes increasingly fractured, É Soul Cultura Volume 3’s message is more than movement. It’s about dance music’s power to unify people from all walks of life and break down the barriers that divide us.

20-jähriges Jubiläum: Erweiterte und remasterte Vinyl-Neuauflage des epochalen Debüts von Band of Horses, dem Indie-Rock-Klassiker "Everything All The Time" aus dem Jahr 2006. Diese erweiterte Ausgabe kommt im Klappcover und einer Bonus-LP mit seltenem und unveröffentlichtem Material, alles frisch gemastert von JJ Golden und gepresst auf opakem gelbem Vinyl. Musikalische Transzendenz zu erreichen, ist echt schwierig. Wenn es klappt - ein großes ,wenn" -, dann passiert das ganz natürlich, und vielleicht weiß das niemand besser als Band of Horses, deren bahnbrechendes Debütalbum ,Everything All The Time" auch nach zwanzig Jahren noch genauso lebendig und, wenn man so sagen darf, transzendent wirkt wie bei seiner Veröffentlichung im Jahr 2006. Gitarrist und Sänger Ben Bridwell gründete Band of Horses 2004 in Seattle, nachdem er fast zehn Jahre lang bei Carissa's Wierd, den melancholischen Lieblingen des Nordwestens, gespielt hatte. Carissa's Wierd machten wunderschönen orchestralen Pop, dessen Songs unerschrockene Geschichten von Herzschmerz und Verlust erzählten, gewürzt mit defätistischem Humor. Band of Horses entstand aus den Überresten dieser beliebten Band, getragen von Bridwells warmer, halliger Stimme und seinen holzigen, verträumten Songs, die vor Spannung, Sehnsucht und Hoffnung nur so strotzen. Mit einem neuen Vertrag bei Sub Pop und einer Reihe großartiger Songs im Gepäck nahm die Band ihr Debütalbum "Everything All the Time" mit Produzent Phil Ek in den Avast Studios in Seattle auf. Mal rau und episch (,The Great Salt Lake"), mal zart und nachdenklich (,St. Augustine", ,Monsters") - "Everything All The Time" ist ein Album, das wunderschön von zerbrechlichen Höhen und Tiefen geprägt ist. Das ist Teil des Genies von Band of Horses: Sie schaffen intelligente, klassische Bewegungen innerhalb ihrer Songs und meistern dabei eine perfekte Balance zwischen Verzweiflung und Hoffnung, Ruhe und Manie, Liebe und Angst. Und natürlich gibt es da noch die massive Single ,The Funeral", die zu einem prägenden Song dieser Ära wurde und weiterhin neue Generationen von Fans und Künstlern gleichermaßen inspiriert. Neben unzähligen Film- und TV-Platzierungen wurde der Song von Kid Cudi gesampelt und vom renommierten Produzenten und Multi-Instrumentalisten Gryffin in einen 2025 Dance Edit verwandelt, der allein in kürzester Zeit 2,5 Millionen Streams ergattert hat. Anlässlich des 20-jährigen Jubiläums des Albums präsentieren Sub Pop und Band of Horses nun die definitive Momentaufnahme der Band zur Zeit von "Everything All The Time". Für diese Jubiläumsveröffentlichung wurde das Album komplett remastered, das Artwork überarbeitet und zu einer Gatefold-Hülle mit Liner Notes von Phil Ek erweitert. Begleitet wird das Album von einer zusätzlichen LP mit Bonustracks, darunter die Tour-EP von 2005, eine Fundgrube bisher unveröffentlichter Studio- und Live-Tracks sowie Raritäten wie ,The End's Not Near" (zu hören in The O.C.) und eine Demoversion von ,The Funeral".

Inspired by the concept of the city as a living, complex entity - a feeling Youniss describes as the difference between "living in a city and just being in that city" - Good Effort! is an open-ended narrative drawn from the artist's own experiences, including growing up on the outskirts of Antwerp.

Like a vibrant city itself, the album is a culmination of organic interactions, layered with diverse perspectives from a collective of artists. Good Effort! features a dynamic cast of collaborators, including international heavyweights like Pink Siifu, Petite Noir, and Quelle Chris, alongside celebrated names from the Belgian underground such as Dienne and Porcelain id.

While retaining his critical edge - especially on themes like gentrification, an acute problem in his home city - Youniss explores the full range of his voice across the album's tracks, resulting in a warmer, more texturally diverse sound.

Tracks like “Notice,” “Glass Ceilings,” and “The Sun Is Falling” expand his textural use of distortion, while others, such as “At the Still Point of the World” and “Why Don’t You?”, float at a more tranquil register. The record's energy peaks on “TakeThat” where Pink Siifu and Youniss trade frenetic bars atop jazzy drum freakouts.

Despite the cynicism forged by witnessing his environment change - like the flattening of the beloved venue Onder Stroom for a parking space - Youniss offers a crucial message of perseverance. The album's title, Good Effort!, is a defiant embrace of trying again.

Igor Tamerlan is a stranger in his own land. Born in 1954 the Hague and spent most formative years in Paris, Igor suddenly had the urge to relocate to Bali in 1986. “I want to settle in Indonesia and marry a local girl,” he told his sister shortly before flying out.

His next journey would be as audacious as his time in the Fifth Republic. Born from a prominent Indonesian expatriate family in Paris with ties to Indonesia’s first prime minister Sutan Sjahrir, Igor earned a degree in architecture at Ecole nationale supe´rieure d’architecture de Paris-La Villette.

He could have been a brilliant architect or a political scientist (he was accepted to Sciences Po), but his passion for music distracted him from his academic works. He was after all named after Russian composer Igor Stravinsky.

During his brief stint at Sciences Po, Igor spent most of times hanging out at recording studios and rub shoulders with the likes of singer-songwriter Jean-Jacques Goldman and Michel Polnaref. He had a brief encounter with The Rolling Stones at the Cha^teau de Thoiry studio in the early 1970s.

But Igor’s musical education and his occidental eyes appeared to be ill-suited for Indonesia. His first record, titled Langkah Pertama (First Step) on the mainstream label Musica was met with a shrug and was a commercial dud. An experimental record blending the influence of Spanish motifs, Francophile production and a whiff of hip hop and ska was seen by critics as being too alien. His sarcasm-laden lyrics and his biting critique of excessive materialism among the upper tier of Indonesia’s nouveau riche in the album was met with confusion from the audience. He was just too far ahead of his time.

He left the label Musica – or may had been dropped – soon after Langkah Pertama and decided to go independent. He then relocated to Bali and set up a state-of-the-art recording studio in Sanur, across the street from Southeast Asia’s first boutique hotel where luminaries like Mick Jagger, David Bowie, Sting, Yoko Ono and Ringo Starr stayed for their holiday.

From the studio, Igor recording everything from the sounds waterfalls, geckos, minibuses to motorized rickshaw and mix them with hip hop, jazz, electronica, dub and Balinese gamelan. A visionary, Igor was the first musician to use MIDI, which started to be available globally in the early 1980s.

On paper, songs like “Bali Vanilli” should not work, a mish mash of disparate elements mentioned above, sung in three languages, Balinese, English and Bahasa Indonesia while tackling the subject of overtourism. The song was also the first to introduce rap to an unsuspecting audience. But for some strange reason “Bali Vanilli” became a sensation and overnight Igor became household name. And in 1987, long before overtourism was an issue, Igor broached the subject to a national audience in Indonesia on the possible destruction of nature and culture from tourism.

Ever an iconoclast, Igor decided to step out of the limelight following the success of “Bali Vanilli” and in early 1990s he relocated to Indonesia’s cultural capital, Yogyakarta. Here, he worked on some more experimental music while juggling as music video director. He passed away in 2018 at the age of 64.

The 10 songs in this compilation, Bali Vanilli: Experimental Pop from Paradise Island (1987-1991), are some of Igor’s best works, music that would have gone into obscurity had it not been for the diligent work of film director Alfred Pasifico Ginting, who managed to track down some of the master tapes while researching on a documentary on the musician.

These recordings have never before been released outside of Indonesia. Igor would have been proud with this reissue project.

Mats Gustafsson met Jan St. Werner in Berlin when they both performed with Peter Brötzmann and a group of prolific improvisers. Mats and Jan share a passion for performing not just inside rooms but also with them, activating space and shaping sound via divertion. Mats introduces Johan Berthling who adds complex bass structures to the nervous jitter of Mats’ saxophone & pedals and Werner's digital machinery.

The trio instantly agrees on sound as a physical material which can bend and move anywhere within seconds. With this material they establish musical forms which they immediately dissect and reassemble again. It’s a nervous ride, a hyperactive conversation keen on detail and open to argument. Although IFANAME’s sound is instantly graspable it is also hard to pin down. Nothing seems stable yet it lasts, holds like some kind of catchy glue and disssapears as quickly as it came to life. IFANAME is question and concern. It is music as much as it is movement. It is attention, care, curiosity and disaster. Wherever IFANAME came from there is much more waiting ready to burst and reshape in front and inside of our ears.

The definition of the word 'fado' is technically 'fate', though the Portuguese meaning bound up with this term is more complex. The music itself can be fairly closely compared with that of Greek rebetika - also the American blues or the original working-class tango music of Argentina and Uruguay - and similarly takes it's common subject matter from the various cruel realities of the world. Though perhaps what distinguishes fado in character is it's often poised acceptance of the pains of life rather than protestation or resistance - as writer Paul Vernon says "It speaks with a quiet dignity born of the realisation that any mortal desire or plan is at risk of destruction by powers beyond individual control"

Death Is Not The End compile here a spine-tingling collection of fado recordings, taken from records issued in the mid 1910s through to the 1930s. The fado's Lisbon and Coimbra variants are presented here by some of the music's earliest recorded stars - spanning a time period leading up to the emergence of the fado's all-conquering star, Amália Rodrigues.

Seit nun fast drei Jahrzehnten erfindet die Amsterdam Klezmer Band Klezmer-Musik von Grund auf neu und verbindet Tradition mit frischer und verspielter Energie. Mit ihrem neuesten Album "Diaspora" kehrt die Band zu ihren akustischen Wurzeln zurück, formt diese jedoch subtil um und fängt die Musik in ihrer unmittelbarsten und fröhlichsten Form ein, wobei Schlagzeuger Mischa Porte eine neue herausragende Rolle einnimmt. Das Album wurde fast vollständig in einer einzigen Aufnahme in der Singelkerk in Amsterdam am 26. November 2025 aufgenommen und strahlt die rohe Energie einer authentischen Live-Performance aus. Keine Overdubs, keine Elektronik und keine Tricks: nur die Band, ihre Instrumente und die Spannung des Augenblicks. Das Ergebnis ist warm und lebendig, ein Sound, der die Amsterdam Klezmer Band wieder mit den Roots der Klezmer-Musik verbindet und befreienden Raum für Improvisation und Entdeckungen lässt. Rumänische und türkische Rhythmen verflechten Klezmer-Songs und Originalkompositionen und schaffen eine musikalische Reise, die sich sowohl geerdet als auch expansiv anfühlt. Diaspora markiert auch einen bewegenden Moment in der Geschichte der Band: Es ist die letzte Aufnahme mit dem Trompeter und Mitbegründer Gijs Levelt, dessen Klang und musikalische Vision die Amsterdam Klezmer Band fast 28 Jahre lang geprägt haben. Auf Diaspora fließen traditionelle Melodien und Eigenkompositionen nahtlos ineinander, geprägt von den unterschiedlichen Stimmen innerhalb der Band. Düstere, melancholische Tänze stehen neben treibenden Sirba- und Cocek-Rhythmen, von Motown inspirierten Grooves, türkischen 9/8-Impulsen und jazzigen Improvisationen. Spoken Word und Rap-Momente sind eine Anspielung auf die Badchen Tradition, während unerwartete Instrumentierungen wie Gitarre-Banjo, die eine traditionelle Melodie anführen, für eine frische Textur sorgen. Jedes Originalstück trägt die Handschrift seines Komponisten, doch alle dienen dem gleichen Zweck: Körper in Bewegung zu bringen, Verbindungen zu schaffen und Klezmer als lebendige, atmende Gemeinschaftssprache zu erhalten. Diaspora ist kein nostalgischer Rückblick, sondern eine lebendige Momentaufnahme dessen, wo die Amsterdam Klezmer Band heute steht: verwurzelt, rastlos und unwiderstehlich lebendig!

Devotional music most often gets distilled into earthy chants and ancient folklore, it doesn't always ascend to the sky like Julinko’s ‘Naebula’ an album that from the first organ note clearly trades in terrestrial dreams for ethereal visions. A feverish quality permeates the whole record, as if a ritualistic performance was being captured from start to finish, a collection of hallucinatory doom, synthetic neo-folk hymns and ghostly art-rock.

Julinko, stage name for Giulia Parin Zecchin, has long been one of the best kept secrets of the experimental community in North-East Italy, with three records that helped define her unique blend of heavy psychedelia, slowcore and dark ambient. On ‘Naebula’ what really stands out is how powerful and soaring her voice is, a weapon of undeniable force that can transform into a vessel of raw fervour or glide effortlessly as a delicate lament. Her unconventional approach shines through on tracks like ‘Jeanne De Rien’, where a marching pulse acts as a pillar for an extended mantra, almost verging into powwow territory. ‘Peace Of The Unsaid’ uses its arrhythmical structure to create space, a crepuscular night ode that reaches the heights of Sinead O’Connor’s most intimate force-fulness while retaining a sweet composure. Whether it’s glacial murderous shrieks or gospel-esque vitality, songs like ‘Cloudmachine’ or ‘Kiss The Lion’s Tongue’ seem to draw as much from a tradition of European minimalism, the use of drones and repetition, to the tradition of folksongs as hymns, where modal harmonies make way for an apparent stasis. Another key element in Julinko’s songwriting is the seamless blend of her minimalistic approach with these dense textures borrowed from a distant outsider metal heritage, Lynchean noir on steroids or wordless exorcisms with deep undercurrents.

The compositions of Colleen, aka multi-instrumentalist CeIücile Schott, are as richly varied as they are precise. Each of Colleen"s albums are shaped by her predetermined distinct instrumentation and parameters, including works composed entirely of music boxes, pocket synthesizers, and antiquated stringed instruments. The connective essence of Schott"s music is in her ability to create pieces within this transcendent specificity that are both expansive and imbued with profound emotions. Libres antes del final is an album that reaches for the hope and desire to be truly freed from unnecessary suffering and harmful thoughts before reaching the end of one"s life cycle. Schott composed and performed Libres on the Moog Matriarch, centering the record on a pulse-driven, bubbling energy with constant momentum. She then reamped the music in one of her favorite spaces in Barcelona, Casa Montjuic, accentuating the album"s sense of movement. The reamping process adds a literal physicality to the album, as carefully chosen and placed microphones (including the famous Neumann KU100 binaural head) capture both the venue"s PA sound itself and the venue"s acoustics. Colleen"s music translates snapshots of Schott"s life into singular pieces, often instrumentally transmuting a dense web of sensations into wondrous sonic terrain. Schott"s deft manipulation of the Moog Matriarch makes each subtle adjustment feel monumental.

The compositions of Colleen, aka multi-instrumentalist CeIücile Schott, are as richly varied as they are precise. Each of Colleen"s albums are shaped by her predetermined distinct instrumentation and parameters, including works composed entirely of music boxes, pocket synthesizers, and antiquated stringed instruments. The connective essence of Schott"s music is in her ability to create pieces within this transcendent specificity that are both expansive and imbued with profound emotions. Libres antes del final is an album that reaches for the hope and desire to be truly freed from unnecessary suffering and harmful thoughts before reaching the end of one"s life cycle. Schott composed and performed Libres on the Moog Matriarch, centering the record on a pulse-driven, bubbling energy with constant momentum. She then reamped the music in one of her favorite spaces in Barcelona, Casa Montjuic, accentuating the album"s sense of movement. The reamping process adds a literal physicality to the album, as carefully chosen and placed microphones (including the famous Neumann KU100 binaural head) capture both the venue"s PA sound itself and the venue"s acoustics. Colleen"s music translates snapshots of Schott"s life into singular pieces, often instrumentally transmuting a dense web of sensations into wondrous sonic terrain. Schott"s deft manipulation of the Moog Matriarch makes each subtle adjustment feel monumental.

more eaze is the moniker of Brooklyn-based composer, orchestrator, and multi-instrumentalist, mari maurice. A renowned collaborator both in performance and on recordings, maurice"s own work is a fantasia, a reflection of her curious and explorative musical mind, encompassing entire spectrums of sound from a wide sonic pallet of electro-acoustic textures, folk traditions, and pop forms that pirouette into fully realized ecosystems. sentence structure in the country is a definitive statement of the matchless quality of more eaze"s skill as player and musical thinker. The album relishes the ecstatic in performance and collaboration with an inviting wit and incisive compositions, imbuing tenderness, frustration, and joy into each passage. sentence structure in the country is a collection of compositions, each beautifully realized, self-contained worlds. maurice"s dexterous, tasteful arranging lays bare her influences and obsessive fascinations with remarkable congruency while foregoing any sense of indulgence. Her music holds a density not only in the lush compositions and embellishing flourishes, but also for those moments of spare, minimalist beauty. sentence structure in the country is a textural marvel, a mosaic of ethereal electronics and loamy acoustics sculpted around deeply moving, enduring songs.