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Innitial pressing soul out at once, now repress in neon green vinyl colour available! Ride bassist Steve Queralt's debut solo album Swallow is a beautifully brooding nine-track collection that combines the darkly textured soundscapes of early M83 and Sigur Rós with an electronic sheen reminiscent of Boards Of Canada. It also features guest vocals from Sonic Cathedral labelmate Emma Anderson (formerly of Lush and Sing-Sing) and Verity Susman (Electrelane, MEMORIALS).Swallow has been slowly but surely pieced together between Ride albums and tours over the past five years and, perhaps as a result, has a slightly dystopian, Blade Runner feel that reflects the liminal spaces in which it was created. Despite the fact that the majority of the album is instrumental, there is plenty of power and emotion poured into these moody, moonlit soundtracks. When words do appear, an underlying anger and political slant emerges and amplifies the album's dark intensity. This is most notable on the closing track, `Motor Boats', where he overlays words from Julie Sheldon's polemic poem The Same Boat ("We're all in the same boat they say, but I would disagree"). According to Steve, these simple words of rejection "capture the reality of our times perfectly". However, it was the collaborations with the two guest vocalists that tied the whole thing together and paved the way to the finished album. "After a few false starts, I had started to doubt the project altogether. It was going nowhere," says Steve. "Then, out of the darkness, Emma got in touch to tell me that she'd found her voice and could I send her some tracks. A few files back and forth and an afternoon in the studio later and we had `Lonely Town' and `Swiss Air'."In the meantime, Verity from Electrelane had added vocals to the song `Messengers' and transformed the track. Matthew Simms, now her bandmate in MEMORIALS, would go on to mix the finished album."Swallow has turned out so much better than I had hoped," enthuses Steve. "I'd fallen out of love with it so many times I was thinking of calling it Loveless. But then, that wouldn't be the whole story...

Le Motel and Bruce Wijn met at school, during a school art trip to Munich. They went separate ways for a long time.

Hailing from Brussels, Le Motel's world is a vortex of sight and sound that takes in the many and varied corners of the planet. As a music producer and film composer his versatility has taken him to festivals and clubs in every direction as naturally as he has ventured out to the less accessible areas of the globe as a field recordist. It's somewhere in between these spaces that Le Motel operates, gathering unique experiences and sounds to channel through his studio.

Bruce Wijn is a Brussels-based guitarist who played in several postrock kind projects such as Sound Film, 52 Commercial Road, or more shoegaze Lazy Sin. These collaborations gave him the opportunity to perform in various locations in Belgium, France, England, and the USA. As a musician, his focus has always been attracted by progressively built rhythmic melodies, which would eventually turn into long reverberated or distorted swells, or the otherway round.

All these experiences brought them both to the idea of scoring movies with different yet similar approaches.

That's how their first collaboration happened as Le Motel was working on the soundtrack of the movie Binti, and invited Bruce Wijn for the track Exode, in 2018. Since then, they've been working on other scoring projects, such as the feature film 'Aller Retour' more recently.

Alongside the movie scoring activities another audiovisual live project was born, in collaboration with Antoine de Schuyter and his mesmerizing images.

This one is more focusing on tape textures, field recordings and glitchy effects in order to build atmospheric tracks that they decided to bring together in a first E.P. 'MAAR'.

'MAAR' is elaborated as a soundtrack for an imaginary journey between cold seas and volcanoes explorations.

From the first echoing sounds of playing kids on the shoreside in the opening track 'La Perche' Le Motel & Bruce Wijn let you slide in a technicolor dreamworld, reverbing slowly innocent childhood memories into a chilled, out of range, future.

'MAAR' dives deep into a kaleidoscopic microcosmos watching Nautilus playing hide and seek with 'Captain Ahab' floating on sonic breaking waves, while seagulls gently spread their wings flying through the breezy and misty clouds of Blankenberge.

Lava vulcanica slowly melts in the sad euphorica of the cold North Sea, crystallizing sounds only Le Motel and Bruce Wijn can deliver.

Mister Water Wet returns to Soda Gong with "Things Gone and Things Here Still," an album that radically expands the project’s purview while preserving the homespun warmth and oblique tactility that have long defined Iggy Romeu’s work. Where earlier records tilted toward the dusty swing of sample-based beatcraft or spectral minimalist jazz, here Romeu opens the frame to a more ensemble-minded approach, inviting a stellar cast of supporting musicians, including SG alumni Memotone and K. Freund, into the fold.

The result is an album that feels both broader and more intimate, with live instrumentation such as piano, strings, and reeds woven into MWW’s signature lattice of hand percussion, production sleights, and slippery time signatures. Acoustic and electronic textures bend toward each other like plants angling for the same light: bowed strings blur into vaporous pads, brushed drums scatter under riffing guitars, a horn phrase lingers in the same space as a cracked cassette loop.

A tension between decay and presence - the “things gone” and the “things here still” - runs throughout the record. At times, the music evokes a chamber session refracted through waterlogged tape; at others, it recalls the afterimage of a hip-hop instrumental slowed into an oneiric haze. In the world of MWW, memory functions less as nostalgia and more as a living fabric - mutable and resonant. "Things Gone and Things Here Still" finds Iggy Romeu at his most expansive, offering up a generous record of open spaces and porous boundaries.

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by."

Returning with its final instalments, Die Schachtel's Decay Music series extends its explorations of inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract with Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s “Liminale” and Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, two astounding electroacoustic gestures of blurred space and time, plumbing complexity of meaning bound to sonority. Creatively groundbreaking and inspired, radically rethinking the terms of what ambient music can be perceived to be, they stand among the most striking efforts to appear within the series to date.

An aural bridge between two distinct generations of Italian experimental musicians, “Liminale” is the debut collaborative outing from the creative partnership of Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello. Active within the context for roughly two decades, Turra (b. 1975) is a reductionist/electroacoustic composer, noted from his tense deployment of concrete and acoustic sources — particularly small sounds and noises — whose work threads the balance between silence, tactile auditory perception, and aleatoric music. Martusciello (b. 1959), on the other hand, is a musician and composer working across the fields of acousmatic and electroacoustic composition, sound installation, multi-media and audiovisual art, and computer music improvisation, who is widely celebrated for both his solo efforts and his collaborations with Eugene Chadbourne, Mike Cooper, Alvin Curran, Chris Cutler, Rhodri Davies, Iancu Dumitrescu, Michel Godard, Tim Hodgkinson, Lawrence D. "Butch" Morris, Jérôme Noetinger, Tony Oxley, Evan Parker, Z'EV, and others.

A single, nearly 40 minute work, extending across the two sides of the LP, “Liminale” — as its title eludes — is an exploration of the liminal through sonic means: “places that exist on the threshold, transitional spaces suspended between a before and an after, between the real and the evanescent” conceiving the soundscape as “a liminal place, a space to be inhabited without the certainty of where it leads.” Unfurling like a labyrinth navigated in darkness, the piece’s first half is marked by sparseness and restraint, as slow-paced guitar tones and harmonics thread silences and resonant ambience within a sprawling sense of space, delicately populated by tiny sounds, fleeting punctuations drawn from undeterminable sources, vocal utterances, and the unexpected appearance of intoxicating piano tones.

As “Liminale” progresses into its second half, Turra and Martusciello enter a more densely populated notion of the in between. No less defined by the presence of space and mystery, discreet textures rustle and writhe within passages of pure concrete abstraction and a fragmented, stretched sense of musicality: long-tones, metallic pulses, minimal vibrations, processed vocalizations, guitar harmonics, and deconstructed piano melodies, buried in spectral, gauzy hazes drifting from beyond arm’s reach within an imagistic and immersive landscape of profoundly meditative scope, where each sonic element flirts the line between emergence and disappearance.

Intimate, fragile, and achingly beautiful, “Liminale”, Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s debut collaboration, is a masterstroke in sound-craft and composition, revealing the potency of meaning locked within transitional spaces and the undefined, and imbuing silence with monumental gravity and weight. Mastered for vinyl by Giuseppe Ielasi, and taking electroacoustic minimalism to an etherial extreme, “Liminale” is issued as the ninth entry in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by." Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time will be released Friday, October 10th in vinyl, Japanese import CD (via Plancha), and digital editions.

Zelienople frontman Matt Christensen returns to Miasmah with Constant Green - a record of reverberant country inspired songs that puts the weight somewhere between Johnny Cash and Slowdive. Matt pours out his soul through flashes of life - small and large. His voice roaming over the guitars in a way which feels like a floating poetic deluge.

Appearing fresh from last years Zelienople album Hold You Up, Matt has made a very personal record that arrives as perfectly as it could be. It is full of beautiful sparse moments that capture the feeling of time standing still while simultaneously flashing in front of your eyes. As a child of the 70ies, growing up with country influenced AM rock on the radio, riding around in cars without seatbelts, Matt creates this nostalgic feeling of free riding through the city streets at dusk : a dream world where one can see green as a symbol for humanity and optimism. Not to say the album doesn't have it's share of darkness. Christensen always lingers deep in melancholy, driving his fears and anxieties out through music.

Visions of being able to move anywhere, picking his mother up from jail, family matters, change, the small things in life - all outtakes from what he sings about. Although it's hard to pick up on unless you really listen, as his ramblings can at one moment be fully clear while in the next drowned or muffled - becoming a mere meditative element to the music. Steady collaborators Brian Harding and Eric Eleazer from Zelienople accompanies on pedal steel and keys to further fill the sound into a warm dream, following in the footsteps of Matt ́s previous Miasmah album Honeymoons (2016). That said, while Honeymoons used drum machines and vast open spaces, Constant Green is another step closer towards the classic singer-songwriter folklore. Timeless gold from an artist that never stops creating.

“Warning! Night Time Listening Advised!”

In early spring 2023, with the end of COVID-19 in China, MK helped produce this album for Rubey. Focusing on the piano atmosphere and framework of the Night Piano Project, MK added some flowing sounds and textures to Rubey’s original tracks using a guitar, delay effects, and a synthesizer. At the same time, Ding Mao, another member of the band Hualun, contributed on two tracks. Of course, all production processes were completed at night; capturing the quiet atmosphere of traditional Eastern natural landscapes and transforming them with indoor amorous feelings. These melodies and notes wander and travel through different times and spaces, and ultimately converge in different rooms.

“In Different Rooms” is the second solo album by Rubey, a keyboardist from the band Hualun. It is also Rubey’s second album release since producing the soundtrack for the movie “Virgin Blue” in 2022. It includes 8 works created between 2020 and 2023. Rubey and MK are located in Beijing and Shenzhen respectively. Just like many of Hualun’s works, the original idea for “In Different Rooms” came from Rubey’s daily piano improvisation practice. Named the “Night Piano Project”, Rubey would spend his nights playing his YAMAHA electric piano.

Adhémar’s first solo release on Oslated drives us into the geological matter of the mountains. Composed of an ecosystem of the artist’s own sounds, which unfold organically, “Mountain View” reveals the life of these alpine spaces. Between panoramic views, melting snow, birds chattering the pine trees and the rolling of stones, each detail places us in a different point of view.

On paths, valleys and ridges, a trail through the sounds and memories of the mountains.

12″, 140g, Black Vinyl Limited Edition 200 copies Full Color Printed Sleeve

Produced by Clément Davout aka Adhémar Additional Production by Night Sea Mastered by Mattias Fridell, Sweden Artwork by Clément Davout

Curated by Jongmin Lee
Released by Oslated from Jeju Island, South Korea Distributed by Ready Made, Berlin, Germany Release

The second installment in the SEMPLATE series arrives with force, presenting "Clones" — four-track EP by British duo Evasion & Conman. Run of 200 copies on transparent red / black splatter vinyl. Across the record, Evasion & Conman navigate the spaces between drum and bass, jungle, and breaks, crafting a sound that is both raw and futuristic.

The journey begins with A1 “Closure”, a heavy workout at 165 bpm, driven by pounding drums and a sparse, stripped-back propulsion. On A2 “Nashi” at 147 bpm, unveil perhaps the most lush cut on the EP — a rolling jungle track rich with textured breaks and atmospheric washes. Flipping to the B-side, B1 “Acid Reflux” sits at 140 bpm, swirling with eerie synths and snarling bass that push into darker territory. Finally, B2 “Clones” fires off at 170 bpm, delivering a vision of futuristic broken drum and bass: fractured rhythms, stark bass hits, and cybernetic touches.

John Calvin Abney rises again from the Oklahoman prairies with his latest album Transparent Towns. The ten songs focus on how we remember, and ultimately accept, though he is not always certain the memories we carry adequately mark the moments that make us. "This record is wrapped around the passage of time, whether or not we can trust the memories that we swear on, how we forgive ourselves and others as seasons turn, and how we define what is important as we roll the boulder back up the hill," Abney says of Transparent Towns. "We build these routines and live our stories, we rely on our histories and our memories - spoken and recorded. Now, we're relying on copies of copies, memories of memories, all packed like sardines into our phones, and we're losing the ability to tell our own stories. I have to constantly remind myself, as well as redefine what matters at the end of a day." Transparent Towns is the seventh studio album for Abney, and his first since 2022's Tourist, which he crafted after spending the pandemic as an itinerant writer. In contrast Abney penned most of the album's 10 tracks during a period of introspection and convalescence while recovering from vocal cord surgery in 2023. The time to himself - "I didn't sing for nearly a year, and after surgery, I couldn't talk for a month, and couldn't sing for over three months," he says, left him contemplating how to trace his experiences in the silence. The album's title track is Abney's take on the inaccessible past, witnessing loss and grief through the years, damning the "days we let go left unsaid", and accepting the uncontrollable circumstances we are sometimes placed in. "The troubles and the joys exist vibrantly in your memory, but you're wondering if you remember correctly," Abney remarks. "I've sometimes had this sort of confusion between memory and dreams - you crafted this ideal in your head of how things were or might be, in order to soften the blow of a harsher reality." The places we inhabit dictate how our memories form, and for Abney, there is one place to which he is constantly drawn: Oklahoma. Although he was born in the biggest little city in America, Reno, Nevada, he grew up learning guitar and piano in Tulsa, playing bars and DIY spaces from Norman to Stillwater. His affinity for the land that raised him is evident in the production of Transparent Towns. Abney self-produced the record, tracking most of it at Cardinal Song outside of Oklahoma City, with Michael Trepagnier handling mixing and engineering. The band was comprised mostly of Sooner State musicians too, along with Lydia Loveless and John Moreland contributing harmony vocals. His signature vulnerable voice and lyrical handiwork comes through in each of the songs, along with his penchant for alternative pop melodies set against colorful chords and subtle soundscapes. Having toured for years backing up artists like Moreland, Wild Child, Ben Kweller, and S.G. Goodman, Abney embraces a lead role again, as he presses forward with the loving lament and defiant joy throughout Transparent Towns, calling us to leave behind the pressures we place on our ourselves and recognize that just because there is an ending, it doesn't mean it's the end.

»Downriver« unfolds like a dérive through obscured geographies, echoing the psychogeographic journeys of Iain Sinclair. Just as Sinclair’s writing blurs the tangible and the imagined, Sequences, the project of Antwerp-based artist Niels Geybels, drifts into spaces where memory and environment overlap. Single-take recordings stretch into slowly mutating drones, fractured textures, and ghostlike voices that seem to seep in from unseen thresholds. The atmosphere is one of decayed grandeur, evoking disused monuments, neglected warehouses, and corners of the landscape where centuries of history accumulate beneath the surface.

This is music shaped by wandering without a map: a patchwork of distortion, hidden detail, and abrupt rupture. The sense of time loosens, the everyday unravels, and new contours emerge out of drift and delay. Downriver situates itself between sound art and environmental music, drawing listeners into liminal zones where place becomes porous, haunted by what has been and what might yet be.

Written and recorded by Niels Geybels Mastered by Jacob Calland

Brooklyn-based artists Leslie Graves and Toby Goodshank have joined creative forces on their album Between Worlds (BB*ISLAND), Toby Goodshank (The Moldy Peaches, The Pizza Underground) of the OG New York Antifolk scene, is known for his precise and acrobatic vocals over nuanced acoustic guitar in songs that have been described as "a zesty thumb of the nose at domesticated bullshit." (Myles Manley) Leslie Graves (GOLD, Endless Arrows) is a performing songwriter and recording artist who takes folk subgenres into evocative and intriguing directions, including "sounding like something you could hear Donna Hayward dancing to at the Bang Bang Bar." (Ronan Conroy, "Hidden In the Days" album review) Her voice has been described as "darkwave-meets-folk" with comparisons to Lana Del Rey, Cat Powers, Mazzy Star and Julee Cruise. Acoustic guitar and vocal harmonies make up the core of their music. a slightly psychedelic, at times dream pop-like folkrock. It just draws from a variety of folk and rock. You might hear hints of Sybil Baer, Judee Sill, REM, Linda Perhacs, and Jessica Pratt, but the intersection of Toby and Leslie is truly a place of its own, warm and enchanting, or perhaps a glimmer from the spaces in between worlds. Many instrumental threads are interwoven throughout with the invaluable skills of Jake Nicoll (The Burning Hell) who lovingly engineered and embellished the recordings. Ariel Sharrat of The Burning Hell assisted him and is also featured on saxophone or bass or on some songs here. Speaking to their process, Leslie writes, "Toby is great at composing song structures quickly. It was fun to feel into the emotion of the chords and write from there. The process was like chiseling away at a stone to reveal the sculpture underneath. I like when songs come like that - when it feels that they are teaching us as they are revealed."

Saxophonist, flautist and producer Chip Wickham casts a formidable shadow across the worldwide jazz landscape. Originally from Brighton, but now dividing his time between the UK, Spain and the Middle-East, he has made a name for himself with a series of beautifully crafted solo albums that draw equally on the hard swinging spiritual jazz of Roland Kirk, Yusef Lateef and Sahih Shihab, alongside the music of British jazz legends such as Tubby Hayes and Harold McNair and the more contemporary sounds of Jazzanova, Kyoto Jazz Massive and Robert Glasper. His close working relationship with Matthew Halsall’s Gondwana Records has spanned close to two decades (since he played on Halsall’s 2008 debut ‘Sending My Love’) and has since released three standout releases on the label (the ‘Cloud 10’ LP, and the ‘Astral Travelling’ and ‘Love & Life’ EP’s). Once again returning to the heralded label, he now prepares to release his elegant fifth studio album ‘The Eternal Now’. Further exploring his penchant for hard-hitting soulful, spiritual jazz and modal hard-bop, it denotes an exciting new chapter in his much- revered discography, once which sees his unbridled artist flourish into new and fruitful pastures.

A beautifully crafted record, ‘The Eternal Now’ is a heartfelt ode to submitting oneself to the practice of creating art, and the freedom that’s derived from letting go. Speaking on his journey to bringing it into the world, Chip explains “The Eternal Now is a creative place where time has no purpose. A place where the past and the future don’t exist. A place where an artist can create something that is timeless and relevant. Writing this album has been a deliberate journey of exploration and drive into the furthest reaches of creativity. An attempt to push myself artistically into new spaces using new colours and new energy”. On how he approached this record in comparison to his previous offerings, he divulges ‘I had to be playful and take risks. It has taken longer than any other album to make and it has been so worth it. I have been drifting and taking the road less travelled as well as not looking back. I’ve enjoyed being on the outside and the freedom it has brought me to create something new and fresh and relevant and timeless.’

Introducing Hussain Bokhari and his debut album “Possessions” on Mood Hut Records. Hussain has been a close friend of the label for years and we’ve been quietly obsessing over his bedroom transmissions forever. With “Possessions”, we get a glimpse into the endless archives of a Vancouver underground legend.

Born in Bangkok but calling Vancouver home, Bokhari creates intuitively and freely, and you can hear it in the way "Pull Me Up" rolls out its plush carpet bedroom boogie, or how "Bangkok Boy"'s Thai vocals carry childhood memories across oceans and decades, while "Whatever Counts" sounds like Durutti Column moved from Whitworth Street to Cordova.

This is music for the spaces between - between cities, between eras, between yourself and the person you were, all held together by a minimalist studio setup and maximum heart approach that makes "Possessions" feel like an invitation into Bokhari'sparticular way of seeing.

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."

Prometheus is the 2012 science fiction horror film directed by Ridley Scott, written by Jon Spaihts and Damon Lindelof and starring Noomi Rapace, Michael Fassbender, Guy Pearce, Idris Elba, Logan Marshall-Green and Charlize Theron. It is set in the late 21st century and centers on the crew of the spaceship Prometheus as it follows a star map discovered among the artifacts of several ancient Earth cultures. Seeking the origins of humanity, the crew arrives on a distant world and discovers a threat that could cause the extinction of the human species.

Marc Streitenfeld is a German composer. He has frequently collaborated with director Ridley Scott. Streitenfeld has composed the music for many high-profile Hollywood features as well as critically acclaimed independent films, including American Gangster, Body of Lies, The Grey, Poltergeist and All I See Is You.

Prometheus became the fifth collaboration between the composer and the director. The score was recorded over one week with a 90-piece orchestra at Abbey Road Studios. Streitenfeld began coming up with ideas for the score after reading the script prior to the commencement of filming. To create an “unsettling” sound, he provided the orchestra with reversed music sheets to have them play segments of the score backwards, before then digitally reversing it. The track “Friend from the Past” reprises Jerry Goldsmith’s original main title from the Alien soundtrack.

2025 Repress

Kid Katana Records teamed up once again with DON’T NOD to release Lost Records: Bloom & Rage OST on vinyl.



This album accompanies the adventure of four teenage girls between 1995 and 2022, in the seemingly sleepy little town of Velvet Cove, Michigan.


With their growing friendship embodied by their punk band, music plays a key role in both the story and gameplay. In terms of music, this 18-track OST features different genres: dream pop, ambient, and punk, featuring an incredible lineup of artists and several songs with vocals: Ruth Radelet – former Chromatics front singer, Milk & Bone – acclaimed Canadian electropop duo, Nora Kelly Band – fresh Canadian alt-country / punk band.



This roster defines a dreamy and ethereal soundscape resonating with the 90s nostalgia and the Super 8 aesthetics of the game.

The physical edition is a 2LP designed in close relationship with the game studio:


- 2 colored vinyls: transparent pink & blue, matching the cover art.
- gatefold art: featuring exclusive in-game graphics
- teenage punk poster: nod to the game’s rebellious spirit & characters
- liner notes: giving insights from the game’s creative team and featured artists

Demdike Stare & Cherrystones unveil a long-in-the-making darkside fantasy weaving atmospheric and loose-limbed cuts recorded at labs in London and Manchester, brilliantly shaking a bush of ghostly trig points ranging from the Mars rehearsal tapes to Minimal Man, Randy Greif’s cut-ups, Conrad Schnitzler’s industrial prototypes and ‘70s ECM sides – with vocal contributions from Ssabae’s mesmerising Laura Lippie.

In dazed pursuit of styles heard on Cherrystones’ DDS tape ‘Peregrinations in SHQ (Super High Quality)’, the renowned London digger properly hexes sonic leylines with his label bosses on 10 wickedly grubby and hazed sound experiments. They tumble down the rabbit hole like some sixth sense-guided call-and-response, resulting in an exquisite unfolding of psychoacoustic spaces familiar to their mutually spirited sounds.

Honestly it's some of the dirtiest and most esoteric gear we've heard from Demdike; you can sense a lifetime of incessant digging drip through every loop and crack; grotty no-wave, industrial noise, DIY psych, proto-techno and gnarled concrète, further bolstered by Cherrystones’ perpendicular, equally insatiable and fathoms-deep areas of interest. With a focus on scrappy, feral cuts and hastily recorded edits, the trio roughly re-draw wordless chants and hyper-compressed knocks over a vortex of found sounds that curdle in rhythmic heat. Never staying sill for long, the trio get drowned by watery ambience, then shredded loops, Technoid shrapnel and electric bass prangs dancing into the aether.

The crankiest spirit perfuses the whole thing, evoking states of unravel and psychic distress as they pit a near-peerless collective knowledge into the void. Laura Lippie acts as human ligature to sanity, a fleeting constant found smudged into the hip hop chops of ‘Familiar Unfamiliarity’, spectral incantations of ‘Prophet in View’, or a channelling of Ozzy in ‘Thee Oath’, among more deranged tongues on ‘Observing the Crux’.

It’s the missing link between ECM, Earth and Dilloway we didn’t know we needed - up there with some of the most satisfyingly deep and frazzled gear this century.

Bruch once again proves to be a grim and bighearted crooner and multi-layered genre-bender between repetitive pulsating electronic music and brilliant organ minimalism, between destructive rock'n'roll and world-embracing pop. Bruch is Philipp Hanich's alter ego as a music producer. Born and raised in Munich / Germany, he has been living and working in Vienna / Austria as a visual artist and musician for 20 years now. He is equipped with a long pedigree of DIY-counterculture, gathered since the early 2000s whilst touring with different bands, creating off-spaces and co-running the labels Totally Wired Records (2012-2016) and Cut Surface (since 2016). The Harbour of the Broken Hearted (THOTBH) can be a state of mind, ramshackle but transcendent. Oscillating between the repetitive pulses of electronic music and organ-orchestrated minimalism, Bruch throws out comforting loops of sound just like fishing nets, that suck you into his stories unwaveringly. His evocative and unadorned vocal style adds to Bruch's depth, soul and sincerity. Drifting and driven amidst uplifting gloom. At times, solemnly striding against foggy and dogmatic black-and-white-thinking, rearing up in opulent resistance, then again just hopelessly beautiful and achingly wistful. Occasionally, Bruch's laid-back observations can also end in a wild ride. By introducing The Crusher, Bruch enters the harbour with full sails of self-reflexion - and we realize, sometimes it's all just about having to endure yourself. Or_ is it all about love? In the end, each and every of THOTBH's songs turns out to have a cathartic quality. Bruch's THOTBH might not be a safe space, but it accepts us as we are. With our doubts, our own frailties and our shortcomings. No need for embarrassment within the fragile. No need for shame and fear in expression. No need to shy away from creating something beautiful. You better learn to spell ,Sehnsucht" - as it turns out to be the everlasting keyword!