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House royalty right here. An unmistakable voice over the decades, from the late ‘80s till the present day, Byron Stingily’s falsetto tones are some of the purest around. Whether hitting the high notes as part of Ten City or in his solo songs, his gospel-tinged, uplifting voice has soundtracked countless euphoric moments.

Club Chi’ll Records welcome Byron to the label as he delivers a signature, piano-laden, hands in the air vocal house gem in the form of ‘Can’t Help It’. Not stopping there, they enlist the expertise of Wade Teo, Spaces Between and Soul Clap to add their trademark flavour to proceedings with four distinctive remixes.

Early support Louie Vega & Smokin Jo.

The Spaces Between were formed out of creative studio sessions in the summer of 2020 and comprises of bona fide house legend Terry Farley, electronic music producer Wade Teo and renowned author and co-owner of Club Chi’ll Records, Ian ‘Snowy’ Snowball. The idea for ‘Ghosts’ came from Terry’s idea to reference the Jazz greats who have gone to glory leaving behind their astonishing musical legacies. Within days of emailing a comprehensive list of jazz artists to Chicago House luminary and The It/ Jungle Wonz member, Harry Dennis, an answer with Harry’s sparse, haunting vocals was received. These were laid down over a bed of live instruments and electronic sounds and the combined talents of The Spaces Between created the compelling jacking jazz vibe of ‘Ghosts’.

Snowy ran the track past Jo Wallace at F*CLR Records – it was love at first listen. Jo suggested the track should be part of an EP with remixes from the newly reformed Black Science Orchestra. It was agreed and provided an ideal opportunity for Ashley to work with Terry once again, reinforcing the Junior Boy’s Own heritage.

The first incarnation of Black Science Orchestra began life in 1992 when Ashley Beedle joined forces with Rob Mello and their debut release, ‘Where were you’ exploded onto the global dance scene via the iconic UK house label JBO. Broken in the US by the Godfather of House, Frankie Knuckles, ‘Where were you’ entered into the hallowed halls of immortal dance music. Black Science Orchestra has become one of the most respected deep house acts of the 1990s, with the revered album ‘Walter's Room’ and the legendary genre crossing 'New Jersey Deep' track that is considered one of the top dance tracks of all time and rarely leaves discerning DJs' record boxes. Fast forward 29 years and original BSO founding fathers, Ashley and Rob decided that both they and the world needed the sound of Black Science Orchestra again and decided to reform, inviting long time musical and studio accomplice Darren Morris to join the collective now in its 6th incarnation!

When presented with the original version of ‘Ghosts’, Rob, Ashley and Darren loved it and all heard various ways it could be reworked in a true Black Science Orchestra way. Donning their pandemic production hats and remotely getting their feet back under the studio desk again, they worked together to create distinctly different remixes ranging from the deep, spacy electronic to the tough and psychedelic sleazy funk. With original BSO productions included on this EP, 'Ghosts' has helped square off the circle and the Black Science Orchestra conductors are back and mean dance floor business!

Repress.


Bicycle Ride takes you into lo-fi paradise. Enjoy the subliminal vibe of mellow melodies arising out of that true vintage piano sound. Sit back and experience the rhythms and pedal through your inner emotions. Shook's music will take you into a true admiration for melody, rhythm, music in a carefree treadmill of life. Listening to the latest productions of Shook is like watching a Ghibli movie with compositions by Joe Hisaishi. While balancing in the twilight zone between awareness and epiphany you can feel the influences by many artistic and obscure composers and musicians, Shook creates a personal form of electronic music. Creating its own melodies on vintage synths, acoustic pianos and recording drum shots to build his rhythm patterns.Shook creates an easy-listening experience with a deep appreciation for melody, synths and piano's, touching the current lo-fi revival connected with producers such as Nujabes. Influenced by the wonderful creations like the 'Chrono Trigger' video game soundtrack developed by music composer Yasunori Mitsuda. Inspired by synthesizer pioneer Isao Tomita to 70's and synth pop gurus Yellow Magic Orchestra. Become part of a surrealistic episode of yourself enabling you to safely meet your deepest memories.

Antechamber's debut explores the ghost architecture of industrial music, etheric and oppressive in its suspension.

The newest alias from Mahk Rumbae a.k.a. Codex Empire and one half of Industrial act Konstruktivists, Antechamber sees a spacious almost dub influenced realm being explored, a dark-ambient nether in which lurching rhythmic giants consume the fragments of their composition, as though some military exercise had arrived at the collapsed edge of history and remained forever there suspended, war-games in the ether, anodic purgatory.

The LP is at times drone-scape, at times big-room stepping; white noise carved into shuddering rhythms & barrel bomb impacts; Antechamber's debut shows a producer who is able to both summon and resuscitate worlds with only the bare minimal elements, a contained violence and a violent restraint.

Wind of Oirat is the full length debut by Mongolian independent musician and sound artist Ts Bayandalai. Following his acclaimed 2020 EP Kimel, he now presents a further matured, composed and refined version of his signature sound, which combines traditional Mongolian music and instruments with influences from experimental music and post-rock. Deeply rooted in the cultural traditions of his homeland, Ts Bayandalai, who grew up in a nomadic family in the Mongolian steppe, explores nature and its myths, his ancestral roots, and the relationship between humans, animals and nature.

Artist Bio:

Ts Bayandalai is a Mongolian independent musician and sound artist. His childhood on the steppes shaped a deep sensitivity to natural and ethnic sound. To create his individual, deeply rooted yet modern soundscape, he combines traditional Mongolian musical elements with post-rock, experimental and electronic music, as well as from outernational music influences.

Born into a nomadic family on the steppes, Ts Bayandalai grew up wandering the vast grasslands with shepherds, absorbing the resonances of the horse fiddle and guitar — experiences that remain a primordial source of inspiration in his work.

Founder of the avantgarde band Horse Radio (2012) and the experimental project December3AM (2015), his compositions navigate cultural memory and contemporary aesthetics, reconstructing pastoral landscapes, temporal layers, and emotional spaces through sound.

His EP Kimel, released in 2020, manifested a delicate sculpting of sound, space, and cultural motifs, presenting a listening experience that is at once primal and modern.

Ts Bayandalai’s performances span China, Mongolia, and major independent music venues and festivals across Asia. His artistic vitality and creative autonomy have earned him critical acclaim and a devoted following in the international folk music and experimental music communities.

A guitar stands alone in Wedding, that metropolitan biotope in the western center of Berlin, caught in constant transformation between idyll and abyss. It lets its gaze wander, unsettled, almost shy, until it encounters a trumpet, with which it begins a cautious, then ever more intimate pas de deux.
Welcome to the second studio album by the Berlin-based band Conic Rose.
The album title Wedding is no coincidence. The story of Conic Rose is closely intertwined with the Berlin neighborhood that gives the record its name. The band's studio is located here, and both studio albums were created in the immediate vicinity of the small river Panke. This place settles over the music like a warming patina. The album feels as though the musicians and the neighborhood have invited one another to get to know each other. Not least because Wedding also means marriage. These marriages between a band and an urban landscape, a fading past and an emerging future, fear and hope - unfold in every single song on Wedding.
For their second album, Conic Rose repositioned themselves completely. Not in terms of personnel, but in the question of how to move forward. Conic Rose still sound like Conic Rose; their distinctive blend of cinematic jazz, ambient textures and guitar-led contemporary music remains untouched. And yet Wedding is, in many ways, the conceptual counterpart to their debut album Heller Tag. Where the debut documented movement within an urban setting, Wedding describes a state of being. Behind every piece seems to hover a large question mark.The group opens up its palette, allowing more influences, becoming at once more subtle, more profound, more filigree. It is less about definition than about the spaces in between. The most immediately striking difference from the previous album is the strong presence of the guitar. In Bertram Burkert's playing, many voices seem to converge. His yearning openness forms an equal counterpoint to Döben's trumpet and flugelhorn. Blurred and layered sounds occasionally make the ground seem to slip away beneath one's feet, while Döben's gliding lines create both closeness and distance. Together, the band express in a deeply subtle way a sense of life that corresponds precisely to our time. Something lurks in the background, omnipresent yet still unnameable. Conic Rose need no words to convey this feeling of uncertainty with remarkable eloquence. Perhaps this has something to do with Wedding being a place of confrontational introspection, but Conic Rose confront the escape from escape itself. With the recording and release of Wedding, this process is far from complete. The seed only begins to grow in the listener's ear. With every listen and the echo it leaves behind in memory, the studio bud continues to bloom. The album is merely the point of departure. What ultimately matters is what it sets in motion within those who encounter it.

Holy Sun Opera House at its core is soprano and drummer Krissy Barker with composer dl Salo. Along with a revolving cast of collaborators, singers and performers, they create emotionally engaging and haunting symphonic music embellished by electronics, heavy drums and synthesizers. The group has been described as “Opera Cult” and as one who would play at the Roadhouse in Twin Peaks. They draw influence from early Dead Can Dance, Fever Ray and Klaus Nomi.

The Holy Sun Opera House is the group's self-titled debut set for release in May 2026 on the label Hologram Opera. The self-produced album was conceptualized as a way to describe an obsessive mind with music and inspired by the recurring dreams of singer Krissy Barker. In it is a realm of shifting rooms, dilapidated houses and passages. These unsettled rooms and spaces pose a striking confrontation of fear and anxiety from deep within.

In its conception, The Holy Sun Opera House was written as a passage through these ethereal dreams and spaces. The song Latched On depicts the compulsive psyche as a draining physical entity attached. While Voice of Gob, Decrepit Mansion, and Room with the Rain observe and attempt to find acceptance in this conflict. The Passages I & II travel between the curtains to the unknown entity residing in The Attic, who looks inside the mind of the dreamer and determines she has no soul.

The album blends genres with electro, darkwave, and contemporary classical music. The ritualistic passages of the choir throughout the album are reminiscent of Wicker Man and 1970's mystic cults, praising the deities residing within the dream. The arrangement of synths, electronics, heavy drums and operatic singing lend itself to something uniquely memorable.

GALA announce Ten Years of GALA – a compilation marking a decade of independent culture

Ten Years of GALA is both an archive and a horizon: a reflection on where GALA has come from, and a signal of what lies ahead.

Founded in 2016 as a one-day gathering in South London, GALA has grown into a global point of reference for dancers, artists and collectives drawn together by a shared commitment to independence, collaboration and underground music culture. Rather than charting success through scale alone, the festival has consistently prioritised integrity, community and musical curiosity – values that underpin this release.

Spanning fifteen tracks, Ten Years of GALA unfolds as a considered journey. It opens with an intimate spoken contribution from Charlie Dark, grounding the compilation firmly in GALA’s home of Peckham before gradually expanding outward into fuller, club-focused terrain. From there, the record moves between moods and tempos, tracing a path from reflective moments into the physical language of the dancefloor.

The compilation brings together longtime friends of the festival alongside newer voices drawn into its orbit in recent years. Each artist contributes a distinct perspective, but collectively the tracks form a coherent portrait – not of a single sound, but of a shared ethos shaped over ten years of gatherings, collaborations and days spent dancing together.

Rather than a retrospective in the conventional sense, Ten Years of GALA functions as a living document. It captures fragments of past editions, scenes and relationships, while remaining firmly oriented toward the future. These are not museum pieces, but records designed to be played, shared and folded back into the spaces from which they came.

Together, the compilation holds a piece of GALA’s first decade – not as a closed chapter, but as a foundation for what comes next.

Introducing Whoman, a Brussels trio formed by Mira and Ambroos De Schepper and Lou Wery, after several years of concerts and sonic explorations between electronic and acoustic formats. Born from travels, rehearsals, and fragments accumulated in various living spaces, About Honey has patiently taken shape, like a collection of soundscapes and intimatenarratives. The richnessof the textures and the fluidity of the arrangements are striking. Acoustic guitars, mandolin, and tenor guitar converse with synth pads and delicate vocal harmonies, sketching a shifting sonic universe where pop energy and introspective folk atmospheres intersect. Finalized at Studio Ledeberg in Ghent, the album bears the mark of these years of concerts, particularly the tours in mountain refuges that refocused the band"s attention on the essence of the songs: voices, harmonies, and collective breath. Like the honey from which it borrows its metaphor, About Honey concentrates multiple influences to reveal a singular color: the textured expanse of Animal Collective and Panda Bear, the luminous melancholy of Fleet Foxes, and the abundant songwriting of Dirty Projectors. In ten tracks, Whoman delivers a dense and luminous debut album, both organic and inventive, where the delicacy of the vocals and the richness of the arrangements combine to create a warm and vibrant record, revealing a unique new voice on the Belgian indie scene.

‘Confession' is an album of quiet upheaval. An album about closeness that arrives late and unexpectedly. About stability rubbing up against desire. About the way friendship can suddenly tilt into something charged — and how that charge unsettles everything around it. Where earlier work often observed from a distance, Confession turns inward. The voice is closer, warmer, less shielded. “This wasn’t the album I intended to make,” says Carla dal Forno. “I originally wanted something veiled and abstract, but I realised I couldn’t hide behind abstraction — the songs only worked when I leaned into emotional truth.”

This is dal Forno’s fourth LP, written and recorded over several years in a small country town, in a studio housed inside a partially abandoned hospital. Long corridors, humming lights, emptied rooms — a place built for care and waiting, now quiet enough for thoughts to echo. That stillness shapes the record: intimate, watchful, unadorned. “I live in a small country town that offers a stillness my life didn’t previously have,” she explains. “In that quiet, feelings I might’ve ignored in a busy city grew loud.” Dal Forno sings plainly and conversationally, with an emotional precision that sharpens the everyday into something quietly unsettling.

The album moves through paired states: going out and staying in, wanting and withholding, devotion and distraction. Domestic calm set against private unrest. A long-held relationship offers safety and routine, while a newer connection opens emotional fault lines — longing, jealousy, fantasy, self-exposure. “At the heart of the album is a friendship that became emotionally charged in an unexpected way,” dal Forno says. “That shift brought daydreaming, jealousy, tenderness, confusion, self-awareness — and eventually acceptance.”

The drama here is internal, incremental, lived. Musically, Confession feels lighter on its feet than its subject matter suggests. Melodic basslines anchor the songs while guitars, harmonies, and gently off-kilter rhythms move around them. There’s a looseness, even a playfulness — “like the sensation of tension lifting once you finally admit something to yourself,” as dal Forno puts it. The album traces a subtle arc: attraction blooming where it shouldn’t; obsession quietly taking hold; fantasy overtaking reality; clarity arriving slowly, sometimes painfully. Visually and emotionally, Confession returns to modest spaces: backyards, beds, night streets, overgrown paths. “The record exists in that contrast,” dal Forno reflects. “Peaceful surroundings, unsettled interior.”

Like all of dal Forno’s work, Confession resists clean conclusions. It doesn’t moralise desire or romanticise restraint. Instead, it lingers in the in-between — where love is stable but not total, where yearning teaches as much as it hurts, where solitude becomes a form of care. Plain-spoken but emotionally complex. Rooted and restless. Held together by bass, breath, routine, weather. An album about admitting what you feel —and living with what that admission changes.

An’archives presents 'sensitive', a new album, and the first solo vinyl release, by Japanese keyboardist and synth player, Mitsuhisa Sakaguchi. A deftly assembled suite of glistening electronic tonalities, 'sensitive' is the latest in a lengthy run of excellent, idiosyncratic albums by Sakaguchi. A low-key yet productive artist, Sakaguchi has released banks of solo titles via his own Bandcamp page, and is also an in-demand improvisor for electronics: see, for example, recent collaborations with Yoshiki Ichihara ('TO(R)RI INFRANTA', 'Ftarri', 2025), Tatsuhisa Yamamoto ('non equal mad', self-released, 2020), and the - trio with Yamamoto and Uchihashi Kazuhisa ('self-titled', Modern Obscure, 2023).

'sensitive' is a startling album for many reasons, not least its rich attention to detail. Sakaguchi’s ear is sensitized to the complexity of electronic sonority, something he’s developed through decades of performance and improvisation, though he’s not limited to that language. “I mainly use multiple synthesizers and process the sounds with effects,” he clarifies, detailing his approach to his music. “I also use a lot of acoustic sounds such as field recordings and percussion; sometimes I also use sounds such as prepared piano.”

Indeed, you can hear this see-sawing balance between the electronic and acoustic written across 'sensitive' – see the activated cymbals that twist and stutter through the first half of “metatoxic”, which are soon replaced by a similar stream of burbling synth-flow. The opening “sensitive rot” folds field recordings into Sakaguchi’s electronic kit to such a degree that the differing forms dissolve into each other; on “green shrine”, the field recordings are more present, yet still poetically framed, taken as they are “from the mountains of my hometown, Yawata City, Kyoto,” Sakaguchi explains.

The tender balance achieved by Sakaguchi as he moves between practices, tonalities and temporalities helps manifest the guiding conceptual force behind 'sensitive', where Sakaguchi explores a cleansing reverie. “What I wanted to portray with this album was to create an album of sounds that shattered and reassembled my current ‘sense’ and ‘toxins’,” he nods, “along with the ‘nature’ around me. Electronic sounds, our bodies, the environment around us, and nature all blend.”

From there, Sakaguchi attempts a transformation, or transmutation – an alchemical process of exchange. “I am attempting to explore whether it might be possible for the sounds to come closer to each other,” he concludes, “or perhaps even to interchange places.” On the five pieces that comprise 'sensitive', you can hear this fusing and exchange. Inhabiting similar spaces as the music of Nuno Canavarro, Asmus Tietchens, Omit, and other like-minded visionaries, 'sensitive' traverses curious, quixotic terrain between electronic composition, electro-acoustics, and improvisation.

The Nightlife finds Honey Dijon exploring the space between house music’s past, present, and future — blurring boundaries, bending conventions, and inviting an all-star cast of collaborators to help redefine what club culture sounds like for today.

Rooted in the lineage of house yet never confined by it, the album moves effortlessly from sweat-soaked basement energy to lush strains of soul and R&B — and into unexpected spaces in between. It’s not a strictly house record; it’s an expression of nightlife itself: fearless, fluid, and in constant evolution.

At once reverent and forward-looking, The Nightlife honors the foundations of the dancefloor while pushing its possibilities outward. It captures the communal pulse, the intimacy, and the transformative power that only music at night can hold.

A love letter to the dancefloor.

Pre-order now and step inside.

Two Piers proudly announces the upcoming release of Bridges Towards Open Spaces: Circadian Rhythms 1967–2025.

This new collection brings together a wide range of artists and styles, weaving immersive sonic landscapes that explore a connection between natural cycles and the rhythms within.

Featuring artists such as Brian Eno, Moebius, Roedelius, Meat Beat Manifesto, Fun Boy Three, Daniel Avery, and Spectrum, the compilation moves fluidly between shimmering ambient textures and raw, straight-ahead garage rock.

Bridges Towards Open Spaces: Circadian Rhythms 1967–2025 follows in the footsteps of Two Piers acclaimed previous releases, Night Train: Transcontinental Landscapes 1968–2019 and Music for the Stars: Celestial Music 1960–1979, continuing the label’s exploration of expansive, time-spanning musical journeys.

“I wanted once again to shape a compilation around a time period, this collection is a nod to my days behind the counter of a record shop, the people I met and the styles of music that was played and I was introduced to. Some are from that time, some are of the style/feeling, that I can associate & with the friends I met there; from the early shift to the late shifts as the tempo rose throughout the day and the neons of London started to buzz”

The album will be available on Limited Vinyl and CD in May, arriving just in time for the longer, warmer days and the shifting light of the Seasons Sun.

Two Piers proudly announces the upcoming release of Bridges Towards Open Spaces: Circadian Rhythms 1967–2025.

This new collection brings together a wide range of artists and styles, weaving immersive sonic landscapes that explore a connection between natural cycles and the rhythms within.

Featuring artists such as Brian Eno, Moebius, Roedelius, Meat Beat Manifesto, Fun Boy Three, Daniel Avery, and Spectrum, the compilation moves fluidly between shimmering ambient textures and raw, straight-ahead garage rock.

Bridges Towards Open Spaces: Circadian Rhythms 1967–2025 follows in the footsteps of Two Piers acclaimed previous releases, Night Train: Transcontinental Landscapes 1968–2019 and Music for the Stars: Celestial Music 1960–1979, continuing the label’s exploration of expansive, time-spanning musical journeys.

“I wanted once again to shape a compilation around a time period, this collection is a nod to my days behind the counter of a record shop, the people I met and the styles of music that was played and I was introduced to. Some are from that time, some are of the style/feeling, that I can associate & with the friends I met there; from the early shift to the late shifts as the tempo rose throughout the day and the neons of London started to buzz”

The album will be available on Limited Vinyl and CD in May, arriving just in time for the longer, warmer days and the shifting light of the Seasons Sun.

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.

Repress of 2018’s classic compilation from Brownswood.

A primer on London’s bright-burning young jazz scene, this new compilation brings together a collection of some of its sharpest talents. A set of nine newly-recorded tracks, We Out Here captures a moment where genre markers matter less than raw, focused energy. Looking at the album’s running order, it could easily serve as a name-checking exercise for some of London’s most-tipped and hardworking bands of the past couple of years. Recorded across three long, fruitful days in a North West London studio, the crossover between each of the groups speaks to the close-knit circles which make up the scene.

Surveying the way that London’s jazz-influenced music had spread outside of its usual spaces in recent years, this album bottles up some of the vital ideas emanating from that burgeoning movement. Giving a platform to a scene where mutual cooperation and a DIY spirit are second-nature, it’s a window into the wide-eyed future of London’s musical underground.

Ubiquitous, much-lauded saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings is the project’s musical director. His own recent projects span from South Africa-connected, spiritually-minded jazz players Shabaka and the Ancestors to Sons of Kemet, who match diasporically-connected compositions with viscerally-direct live shows. His entry on the album, ‘Black Skin, Black Masks’, is typically difficult-to-define: with an off-kilter, shifting rhythmic backbone, repeated phrases – mirrored between clarinet and bass clarinet – shape the track with an alluring hue. His input ties together a deft, genre-agnostic sensibility that’s shared through all the players on the record.

Theon Cross – who’s also part of Sons of Kemet with Hutchings – starts his track, ‘Brockley’, with the solo, distinctive low rumble of his tuba. Winding and mesmeric, it sees tuba and sax lines winding together in rhythmic and melodic parallels. Ezra Collective – whose drummer and bandleader Femi Koleoso has toured with Pharaohe Monch – run a tight, Afrobeat-tipped rhythm on ‘Pure Shade’, with the final third changing gear into a melodic, momentous closing stretch.

Joe Armon-Jones, whose ludicrous chops on the piano have seen him touring with the likes of Ata Kak, showcases earworm-like, insistent motifs on ‘Go See’, balanced with a playful, improvisatory approach with room for ad-libbing and solos a-plenty. Taking a softer tact than many of the other entries, Kokoroko – whose guitarist Oscar Jerome has been making waves with his solo material – spin a lyrical, steady-paced meditation on ‘Abusey Junction’, matching chanted vocals with gently-played guitar.

Nodding to spiritual jazz influences, Maisha’s ‘Inside The Acorn’ is a wandering, explorative rumination, balancing delicate washes of piano and percussion with sharp interplay between flute and bass clarinet. In contrast, Nubya Garcia’s ‘Once’ is taut and carefully-poised, her tenor sax guiding a carefully-built energy to an explosive conclusion. And finally, Triforce’s ‘Walls’ is a performance in two parts: starting with Mansur Brown’s languorous, lyrical guitar, the second half switches up to a low-slung, g-funk-tipped groove.

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

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

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

Is planet Earth weighing you down? 12 Tribes are ready to take you away. Mars is the destination and their music is the spaceship. Drop your past to join them in a future where humans from all walks of life build new traditions, and music is the language we all speak.

12 Tribes of Mars takes the basic elements of the Reggae, Ska, and Dub traditions and blasts them into outer space. A closer listen reveals that what might seem familiar at first has a truly unique and eclectic sound. Heavily influenced by the spirit of free improvisation, the music is as sexy and danceable as it is uncompromisingly gritty.

On stage 12 Tribes Of Mars really cast their spell: time and time again trance inducing acoustic grooves are torn apart by wild improvisations and electronics, before the musicians return to the rhythm as if nothing had ever happened. Concerts are both an intense, trippy listening experience as well as a high energy dance party, ultimately leaving the audience sweaty and wanting for more.

All members of 12 Tribes are trained jazz musicians that are most comfortable in the borderland between musical genres. In the past years, the band toured the festival circuit and alternative venues of Amsterdam. Now they are celebrating the release of their first full album, Hidden Sun, on a beautiful 12 inch limited edition vinyl and on digital.