Cerca:static sense

Lane Shi Otay Onii, known professionally as Otay:Onii, is one of the most inquisitive and genre-defying artists of her generation. A multifaceted creator whose work spans performance art, composition, installation, and avant-garde music practice. Otay:Onii is the first ever artist selected for the three-year Triennium Residency at Roadburn Festival. She was a contributing composer and performer in Florentina Holzinger's groundbreaking opera production `SANCTA` and has performed at festivals world-wide such as SXSW, Roadburn, CTM, Fusion, Creepy Teepy, LGW, Fekete Zaj, and Full of Lava. Otay;Onii has already been celebrated with many awards worldwide, included the Global Music Awards `Bronze Prize for Best Female Vocalist` and `Best Sound' at Audiovisual Arts Industrial Incubator Awards. Otay:Onii's new album `Love is in the Shit', is a deeply intimate album that reaches a striking balance between control and chaos. Harnessing her ability to move from serenity to madness, `Love is in the Shit' is an exploration in representing trialing conscious states. Drawing-in and challenging the listener, the songs play with comfort and discomfort, deliciously crafting the sonic arc of the story so that intention is undeniably felt. Low frequencies vibrate with a bodily presence, while sharp, high-frequency textures cut through with urgency. There is a sense of movement embedded in the sound; music that pulses, sways, and surges, never settling into static forms. Even at its most aggressive, there is an undercurrent of precision and intention. Her voice becomes increasingly elastic and versatile through the service of melody, spoken poetry and pain-ridden wails. "Many songs begin with a need to sing - I sing to summon grace at the peak of anger and tournament, I sing to summon tranquility from a 6 hour panic attack, I sing to get out of my mind which shows mercy for fear.

Lane Shi Otay Onii, known professionally as Otay:Onii, is one of the most inquisitive and genre-defying artists of her generation. A multifaceted creator whose work spans performance art, composition, installation, and avant-garde music practice. Otay:Onii is the first ever artist selected for the three-year Triennium Residency at Roadburn Festival. She was a contributing composer and performer in Florentina Holzinger's groundbreaking opera production `SANCTA` and has performed at festivals world-wide such as SXSW, Roadburn, CTM, Fusion, Creepy Teepy, LGW, Fekete Zaj, and Full of Lava. Otay;Onii has already been celebrated with many awards worldwide, included the Global Music Awards `Bronze Prize for Best Female Vocalist` and `Best Sound' at Audiovisual Arts Industrial Incubator Awards. Otay:Onii's new album `Love is in the Shit', is a deeply intimate album that reaches a striking balance between control and chaos. Harnessing her ability to move from serenity to madness, `Love is in the Shit' is an exploration in representing trialing conscious states. Drawing-in and challenging the listener, the songs play with comfort and discomfort, deliciously crafting the sonic arc of the story so that intention is undeniably felt. Low frequencies vibrate with a bodily presence, while sharp, high-frequency textures cut through with urgency. There is a sense of movement embedded in the sound; music that pulses, sways, and surges, never settling into static forms. Even at its most aggressive, there is an undercurrent of precision and intention. Her voice becomes increasingly elastic and versatile through the service of melody, spoken poetry and pain-ridden wails. "Many songs begin with a need to sing - I sing to summon grace at the peak of anger and tournament, I sing to summon tranquility from a 6 hour panic attack, I sing to get out of my mind which shows mercy for fear.

When Elder Island went into the studio to record the followup to their critically acclaimed 2021 album, Swimming Static, they were determined to "turn everything on its head". The trio are celebrated for their brooding indie-electronica that draws on their Bristol roots, creating vastly detailed and immersive soundscapes. But Hello Baby Okay marks a new era for the band, fuelled by a longing for transcendence and euphoria. An effervescent counterpoint to the current times, their new Music is threaded through with a liberated energy, lilting funk-Pop guitars, danceable beats and a renewed sense of play.

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.

150 copies.

Dashiell returns with his second EP on Felt Sense Recording’s.

A follow up to his 2021 release on the label ‘Going Nowhere Fast’.

Five deep cuts including a collaboration with label head Louis Marlo.

Written & Recorded by Dashiell
Mastered by Dubplates & Mastering DE
Artwork by Louis Marlo & Dylan Batelic

‘Stretch’ Written and recorded with Louis Marlo
@ Gooseneck Studios Melbourne

The legacy of wipE′out′′ has transcended time and cemented itself as a true transgenerational phenomenon. Launched in 1995, it didn’t just revolutionise the gaming industry, it created a bridge between the gaming ecosystem and the raver community. Its futuristic aesthetics and forward-thinking sound left a mark not only on mainstream audiences but also on the most demanding corners of the underground.

Decades later, the game’s impact is still alive. The release in 2023 of The Zero Gravity Soundtrack on Lapsus Records proved once again that wipE′out′′’s accompanying audio will go down in history as much more than just an anti-gravity racing game soundtrack.

This is why we decided to go deeper into the slipstream and build the second volume you’re now holding in your hands. Drawn from the original archives of Tim Wright, aka CoLD SToRAGE, this new collection surfaces unreleased cuts, pieces that couldn’t fit on the first edition, and a suite of self-authored ambient reworks that translate pure velocity into wide-screen atmospherics engineered for the long straights, the drone of airbrakes, the blue hour between checkpoints. It also reconnects the circuit, gathering selections and variants tied to later chapters of the saga — wipE′out′′ HD and wipE′out′′ Pure — plus alternative mixes that, until now, only existed in the Sega Saturn dimension of the franchise.

Finally, the material takes a leap into the future in the hands of four remixers especially chosen for this release: Tim Reaper, SHERELLE, Mantra, and NikNak, who collectively forge links between CoLD SToRAGE’s pioneering musical vision, the sound world of the game, and the contemporary breakbeats and drum & bass vanguard.

Expect the DNA you remember — accelerated breaks, trance-vector synths, jungle influences, sub-bass rumbling neatly beneath the craft’s hull, and at times even echoes of classic hardstyle — now revealed with new angles and air. The previously unheard material carries the same aerodynamic design sense that made these tracks feel faster than the track map itself, while the ambient versions open the field of view with melodies hovering at the lip of overdrive. Without a doubt, here you’ll find a strong sense of nostalgia. But this isn’t just nostalgia; it’s also proof that this sound world continues to evolve when you ease off the throttle.

For the faithful — crate-digging ravers, speed-run obsessives, and design nerds — this is an essential expansion pack: compiling rarities, restoring context, and reframing the emotional core of wipE′out′′ for late nights and early mornings alike. Bridging memory and momentum, club and console, rush and afterglow. Strap in.

Detailed tracklist, with annotations by Tim Wright aka CoLD SToRAGE

· Scratch Pad 1: “This track was composed using incomplete tracks that were developed around the time of the first wipE′out′′. It’s so long because it was used for a marathon-length Psygnosis promotional video.”

· Messij Received: “Messij was a firm favourite with wipE′out′′ fans, so it made sense that there’d be more where that came from — this was one of those re-workings.”

· God’s Gift: “I was always very fond of Erasure’s track Love to Hate You with the canned crowd FX sounds. God’s Gift was a tongue-in-cheek reference to how some musicians think they are just that. This was way before I even played live as CoLD SToRAGE.”

· Tentative: “I wasn’t sure about introducing some wacky beats and distorted sounds into one of the tracks, because it was kinda heading away from the other tracks, hence Tentative — but it turned out OK.”

· Canada 2048: “When wipE′out′′ 2048 was launched I decided to re-make Canada as a kind of tribute, but in a slightly new-tech, laid-back way, using Propellerhead Reason and all software synths.”

· Wiped Out: “Based on a few riffs from a MIDI file unused at the time of the original wipE′out′′ game compositions, this featured on my debut album MELT.”

· Body in Motion (Body Plus Mix): “A more trippy interpretation of Body in Motion that featured on non PlayStation versions of the game e.g. Sega Saturn.”

· Onyx (“Dark Side of the Moon”): “Onyx was my sole contribution to wipE′out′′ Pure on the Sony PSP handheld gaming console. This version was something I developed in a darker style, that eventually erupts into a crescendo.”

· Messij Received (WSTWGBE Mix): “Like I say, Messij was a hit with most wipE′out′′ fans, so when I was asked to compose more music for non-PlayStation versions, I adapted this tune into a parallel-universe version for PC and Sega Saturn. By the way, WSTWGBE refers to Who Said This Was Going To Be Easy?”

· Canada (Drunken Ausländer Mix): “In early 2018 I released a fresh album called Ch'illout′′, a re-working of many of my wipE′out′′ tracks in an ambient, Sunday-morning vibe style — it was a few years’ work, here and there.”

· Tentative (Woffenfum Mix): “Another chilled re-working of one of my wipE′out′′ tracks, the mix named with a nod to a good friend of mine, Carl Woffenden — someone who I've worked with for many years in the games industry.”

· Messij (Bobbing Boat Mix): “A nice cheesy computer blip-blop start belies its deep and upbeat chilled-out melodic finale.”

· Body in Motion (Timeless Techno Mix): “Another classic track given the chilled-out vibe mix, as featured originally on my Ch'illout′′ album. This one’s a really trippy, deep-space take on the original.”

· DOH-T (AM / FM Mix): “The idea with this chilled-out mix was to imagine all the melodic parts of this varied track being broadcast on terrestrial radio, so each theme drifts in and out through the radio static.”

· ’95 Future Echoes: “Originally developed as a companion album for wipE′out′′ HD, this track actually has its roots in a tiny loop of a song that never progressed to anything special back in the mid-’90s when I was composing for the original game.”

· Turbine: “Also from my wipE′out′′ HD album, it leans heavily into the upbeat, uplifting tunes from the original game, but also steals a bit of vibe and energy from The Prodigy, with those distorted flute sounds.”

· Pencil Neck: “This excerpt from my wipE′out′′ HD album features lots of sounds centre-stage and forward from Propellerhead Reason’s Subtractor virtual synth. I learned to love this more than my JD-800!”

· Messij 2005 (New Science Mix): “Yet another take on the track that still raises a smile, this time through a mix of samples from the original and Propellerhead Reason — the ‘new science’ when compared to an Amiga 1200 running Bars and Pipes.”

On The Arboretum, Analogue Attic co-founder Alex Albrecht leans further into the dancefloor, channelling the more hypnotic and driving energy that Butter Sessions is known for. Across the five tracks, listeners are treated to Albrecht's signature melody-driven deep house, bolstered by intricate rhythms, a deeper low end, and hypnotic loops designed for larger systems and later hours.

The tracks are playful yet serious, functional yet full of personality. There's the joy of long blends and the tiny details that bubble up in the mix: field recordings from time spent away, nostalgic archival material, and subtle harmonic shifts that keep the tension simmering.

It's a record built for dancers, but also for home listening. By embracing a tougher, more energetic sound, this release expands Albrecht's sonic world while staying true to the textural depth and sense of journey that run through all his work.credits

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce Spilla, the second album from Nantes-based Ensemble Nist-Nah, 48 minutes of music for Gamelan, drum kits, wood and metal percussion instruments, and plucked strings that will surely count as one of the most electrifying records you hear this year. Founded by the Australian drummer/percussionist Will Guthrie in 2019, continuing the explorations begun in solo form on Nist-Nah (Black Truffle, 2020), the ensemble (eight or nine core members with occasional guests) has been consistently active in the half-decade since: composing, rehearsing, recording and touring Europe (with a mass of equipment in tow) to great acclaim. Spilla tracks the continuing evolution of the project since the recording of their first album, Elders (Black Truffle, 2022). The two sides of this record document two different iterations of the group, and the members' compositional input has increased: each side contains one piece by a member other than Guthrie. It has become clearer than ever that Ensemble Nist-Nah is not an attempt at a European Gamelan ensemble but rather a hybrid percussion ensemble that uses instruments from a Javanese Gamelan alongside other percussion to perform original music informed by a variety of South East Asian music but also by everything from free jazz to contemporary hip-hop: while Nist-Nah and Elders both featured traditional Javanese pieces, on Spilla the only tune not generated by a member of the group is by Guthrie’s long-time musical hero and occasional collaborator Roscoe Mitchell.

The two short pieces that open the record could almost be the two sides of a wild 7” selected to show off what the Ensemble can do. On opener ‘Gerak Maju’, intricately skittering open-snare patterns bounce over clanging metal, chiming bell-like tones and deep gong hits, adapting the rhythm-register connections heard in traditional Gamelan musics—where the lowest pitched sounds are heard least frequently—to a cut-up breakbeat straight off Feed Me Weird Things. ‘Strollabout’ then moves into an entirely different realm of meditative repeating patterns, performed entirely on Chinese, Javanese and Vietnamese gongs. The remaining seven pieces, ranging from three to twelve minutes, offer up a wealth of different percussive, compositional and arrangement possibilities. On ‘Ghostly Klang’, two drumkits mirror each other’s moves, bouncing hats and snares across the stereo field in a way that recalls On the Corner and the jittering hi hat patterns of trap, while slow moving melodies on the tuned instruments add a sense of majesty contrasted by scurrying details in resonant wood. The epic closing track presents a take on Roscoe Mitchell’s ‘Uncle’, performed by the Art Ensemble of Chicago on their classic Urban Bushmen live album. Where the Art Ensemble used Mitchell’s dirge-like melody as a jumping off point for virtuosic improvisational flights, Ensemble Nist-Nah rethink the piece as a near-static dialogue between the monumental, slow-moving sequence of unison tuned percussion notes and a textural cloud that grows in richness and intensity from whispering cymbal rolls into a mass of gong overtones and bowed metal.

Beautifully recorded and mixed, Spilla arrives in a sleeve decorated with core member Charles Dubois’ drawings of cymbals and gongs. Against the backdrop of a wider musical landscape dominated by over-produced electronic slop and bland harmonic wallpaper, Ensemble Nist-Nah stands out as a reminder, vital and unpretentious, of the joys and possibilities of human beings playing instruments together.

Detroit's deep techno master, Deepchord, makes a more than welcome return to Soma after 5 years. With a brand new album dropping, Rod Modell delves deep into his ethereal sonic world to bring you 'Functional Extraits 1'. The first single to be taken from the forthcoming album. Built in a way that only Deepchord can, he transports you to different realms with lush soundscapes and perfectly processed electro-acoustics giving you an insight to the mind of the unique artist.

Shale glides across a field of electo-static noise, guided gently by cisps, fleeting percussion and gently warping synths. Lateral begins awash with waves of sound and glistening dub stabs while rolling beats acts as the heart beat of the track with a building intensity adding a sense of urgency. The uplifting yet dystopian sounds of Mapping spiral into existence urging you down the rabbit hole as more classic techno percussion manoeuvres this track on it's journey. Modell seeking out his roots as yet more traditional dub techno prevails via the final track, Ricochet. Pumping kicks and sub set to a perfect pace and ambience is a perfect, contemporary nod to the time honoured Deepchord sound.

Belgian talent Ilario Liburni looks to the release of his debut LP, 'Travel So Far', forthcoming on his own label, Invade Records. The eight track affair comes on a double vinyl pack as well as digital form which will follow a month later and proves the man behind it to be a superb producer with plenty to say.

Combining elements of house, minimal and intricate sound design, Ilario also heads up the Cardinal label and first emerged back in 2011 on Monique Musique. Since then he has gone on to release on a number of respected imprints (including Riva Starr's Snatch! And Memoria Recordings), has had his tracks licensed to compilations including Noir's In the House album for Defected and has continued to make a big impression as a DJ around Europe.

The album kicks off with 'Travel So Far', a synthetic and stripped back groove with lots of squelchy sounds, scurrying synths and feathery percussive lines all working their way into your brain. 'Sudden' is another Ricardo Villalobos style track that is elongated, intricate and immersive as it unfolds on soft edged drums. Next up, 'Carrie' is a smooth, dubbed out affair that demonstrates plenty of restraint yet really locks you into its hypnotic groove as static hiss and crackles alongside distant synths colour the spaces left behind.

'Steampunked Sewing Machine' ups the ante a little with a hollowed out drum line rocking back and forth on its heels, and 'Can't Fool Data' starts all waify and minimalistic before getting pulled apart to the sound of whirring machines, and then it drops again; you can imagine dancefloors going wild to its hooky rhythms. 'Jenndrum' is all about the pinging drum kicks and globular toms that make for a peppery groove, 'Pherthothal' toys with a sense of abstract funk and closer 'Schwalbe' is a gloopy, gluey, druggy fusion of slurred synths, hiccupping drums and dark textures that make for involving listening.

This is a genuinely inventive album riddled with fascinating sounds,
a real attention to detail and plenty of otherworldly moods that really stick with you.

Drawn from the wider Microliths and Momentary Drifts project, this EP finds zak�, Ossa and ASC working in miniature form with signature restraint but real emotional resonance. Each piece functions as a fleeting vignette where tone and texture carry more weight than the structures. ‘Microlith 1’ opens with soft, cascading keys, while ‘Microlith 2’ drifts further into distant, spectral territory. By the time ‘Microlith 8’ arrives, its gentle fade into static leaves a quiet sense of unresolved possibility. It is a concise, thoughtful collection that will have you keen to hear the whole LP.

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.

The beauty, confusion, complexity, and intensity of their youth - lived under the shadow and around the scars of conflict - are entangled in the industrial dance-punk hybrid encoded in the record's DNA, aptly entitled Crystalpunk. "This record is us waving a flag for that generation -- the ones who inherited confusion, resilience, and a fractured sense of self." They're waving that flag as intensely as possible too. For the uninitiated, Chalk mainlines the reaction between genres, eras, and cultures, commuting this collision into their sound. The Belfast group could comfortably power an underground warehouse party after-dark, incite a mid-day festival mosh-pit, or shake an arena on any given evening.

Their power has seamlessly translated to the stage with the group packing venues and delivering alternately sweaty and electrifying performances to a growing rabid fan base. As a group, they've sold out shows across the UK, EU and USA, notched festival performances such as Glastonbury, SXSW, BBK, Trans Musicals and more across 11 countries and were handpicked to tour alongside IDLES and Fontaines D.C.. Coming from dissimilar backgrounds and rallying together naturally, Ben and Ross first crossed paths in film school. As the story goes, Ben had noticed a framed poster of Dublin disruptors Gilla Band in one of Ross's Instagram photos and felt a kinship before ever actually speaking to him.

"Nobody else at our school was into experimental noise guitar bands, so that was all I needed to see," laughs Ben. Emerging in 2022, Chalk initially made waves with songs like "Them," "Velodrome," and "Static." Ultimately, they come-of-age and tell a story that resonates beyond borders. Not just a portrait of the band, but one of their home, a complicated place where the sacrifices made and risks taken by activists, artists, ravers and punks created the only environment that a band like Chalk could emerge from. Crystalpunk is not about choosing a side, it's about choosing the future.

B. Chamber (Stratum A), by B. Close, is the first full length solo release by Los Angeles-based multi-disciplinary artist Brian Close. The first of two volumes assembled from some thirteen hours of music produced by Close while residing in Connecticut from 2021-2025, B. Chamber (Stratum A) offers a vivid, fractal afterimage of a prolific, specific time and space in the artist’s oeuvre.

After leaving New York City early in the pandemic to a farmhouse in the countryside with dedicated spaces for multiple sound stations, Close developed an intensive daily practice of melding with the machines. The vast, pastoral backdrop of rural CT provided inspiration and contrast for his ongoing investigations into dynamic, poly-rhythmic electronic music. The sounds on B. Chamber (Stratum A) range from the machine-modeling of acoustic instruments and natural environments to the utterly unhuman, spinning on the axis between crystalline, pointillist precision and shifty blown-cone distortion. Close’s atypical interpretations of rhythm, noise and other undefined musics land in a hybrid zone of their own.

Throughout B. Chamber (Stratum A), Close’s productions are in perpetual motion. Foxtrot’s shifting hi-hats and disembodied voices rise like cicadas propelled by glitching machines and tangled rhythms, Many Drive draws momentum from dubby stabs and twinkling atmospherics. Character Community’s nimble, drifting snares and erratic static are uplifted by swelling synths, and Mpan’s modular mining forgoes drums but is no less propulsive for it. Acre Voices’ seasick pads and deft drum patterns tap an energizing nerve, and closer 5D Bow’s ambush of pummeling machine gun fire spirals into the tryptamine palace and emerges completely rinsed and refreshed.

Equally powerful in the club as in the outdoors, in the headphones eyes closed or on the move, B. Chamber (Stratum A) grants an immersive temporary trip on B. Close’s unique wavelength, with Stratum B to complete the picture in the summer of 2026.

RIYL - Mark Fell, muay thai, Vladislav Delay, gaming, Errorsmith, modular synthesizer.

+++++

Brian Close (b. 1979, NYC) uses the cold logic of mathematics to trigger states of total sensory displacement. Close co-founded multiple AV studios to explore the "hypnotic"—a ritualistic practice of motional-graphism and improvisational sound. His work is a study in synesthesia and the architecture of trance, using geometric precision to dissolve the sense of time. It is a digital-visceral experience built on heavy logic, designed for large-scale immersion and timelessness.

Close is one half of Georgia who have released records on Palto Flats, Firecracker Recordings, Meakusma, Youth, OOH-Sounds and EM Records, and have a long-running residency on NTS.

B. Chamber was written, produced and mixed by Brian Close.
Mastered by Rashad Becker.
Artwork by Brian Close.

Carnivalfinds the Fort Worth trauma ray captures some of their strongest, most intense, and exploratory work within the boundaries of a whirlwind year. The breakout success of Chameleon, their 2024 debut on Dais Records, further established the band amidst the current wave of shoegaze revivalists, yet increasingly agile, able to weave between scenes, touring throughout 2025 with the likes of Deafheaven, Loathe, and TouchéAmoré. A confluence of blitzing riffs and stark beauty, theirsound continues to evolve, nodding to loud-quiet-loud greats across metal, grunge, and shoegaze from Slowdive to Smashing Pumpkins. Carnival delves into moodier, more cerebral material, like holding theirpast excursions against a funhouse mirror. There's a distinct sense ofunease in these songs, built as a band in a fleeting window of time, proving they work best under pressure and when pulling from thedarkest corners of their subconscious. The wordless "Carousel" ushers in the EP's unsettling atmosphere withblasts of static and downcast strums giving way to "Hannibal", ananthemic track packed with power riffs and raw emotion. The band has hit this kind of sheer power before, from 2018's "Solstice" to Chameleon's title track, while "Hannibal" contorts with a tinge ofunprecedented evil, slithery, "Stone Temple-y, Alice in Chains-y," Avilaquips. Lyrically, he taps into teenage angst, the feeling of beingdissected and rejected.

Carnivalfinds the Fort Worth trauma ray captures some of their strongest, most intense, and exploratory work within the boundaries of a whirlwind year. The breakout success of Chameleon, their 2024 debut on Dais Records, further established the band amidst the current wave of shoegaze revivalists, yet increasingly agile, able to weave between scenes, touring throughout 2025 with the likes of Deafheaven, Loathe, and TouchéAmoré. A confluence of blitzing riffs and stark beauty, theirsound continues to evolve, nodding to loud-quiet-loud greats across metal, grunge, and shoegaze from Slowdive to Smashing Pumpkins. Carnival delves into moodier, more cerebral material, like holding theirpast excursions against a funhouse mirror. There's a distinct sense ofunease in these songs, built as a band in a fleeting window of time, proving they work best under pressure and when pulling from thedarkest corners of their subconscious. The wordless "Carousel" ushers in the EP's unsettling atmosphere withblasts of static and downcast strums giving way to "Hannibal", ananthemic track packed with power riffs and raw emotion. The band has hit this kind of sheer power before, from 2018's "Solstice" to Chameleon's title track, while "Hannibal" contorts with a tinge ofunprecedented evil, slithery, "Stone Temple-y, Alice in Chains-y," Avilaquips. Lyrically, he taps into teenage angst, the feeling of beingdissected and rejected.

Una interpretación de Soinuarenbidea II debería partir de esta premisa: todo es posible, nada es aleatorio, y en sí mismo es un imposible de aleatoriedades. El escenario planteado explora la idea de realidad aumentada desde una percepción sonora, ambiental y colectiva. La obra transita hacia adelante y hacia atrás recreando experiencias extintas de porvenir incierto, tratando de facilitar un fin pacificador. Cada pieza sonora se crea, se despliega, se repliega y se destruye, en una torsión permanente de toda la realidad que hace posible cada fragmento musical, cada identidad acústica, cada espacio sonoro. Lo onírico, la ficción, y el viaje están continuamente presentes, y es en el transitar de cada fragmento donde se produce el diálogo de la exposición musical. Los elementos de esta ficción se recrean continuamente, en un continuum donde se entrelazan y se van contorsionando a medida que crecen o decrecen con cada fragmento de síntesis concreta. Los temas explícitamente musicales son el magma que conduce a dar voluptuosidad al disco, siendo la piel un contexto o límite que en sí mismo fluctúa indefinidamente en texturas y configuraciones posibles. Y la urdimbre del silencio es la síntesis que está continuamente presente y que trata de cohesionar los fragmentos en continua colisión expresiva. Las grabaciones de campo proporcionan el material sonoro concreto, y como un fractal sonoro cada una de ellas ofrece diferentes grados de interpretación que a su vez conduce a nuevos fragmentos y nuevas creaciones. Así que se puede pensar que esta es una síntesis de una posible realidad, pero interpretable en infinidad de maneras. Un movimiento y una estaticidad implícitas que generan estructuras y dinámicas acústicas. Lo que se escucha no es real, pero en sí mismo forma parte de la realidad, creando un escenario expectante. Lo cinematográfico, plástico y teatral, danzante y dinámico cobra importancia en este juego, porque se trata de contar una historia, una experiencia recreada desde los puntos de vista del arte visual. Es a su vez hilo conductor y entretenimiento, discurso político y puro divertimento. Es desde este espacio de convivencia artística que tiene sentido la totalidad y justifica el formato sonoro planteado. La contradicción de la obra es patente en el formato, y es a su vez el planteamiento de una accidentalidad en el devenir vital. Contenedor de Ruido recoge todas estas contradicciones y las manifiesta en la obra Soinuarenbidea II. Es una historia sonora, es un cuento acústico. Es un fragmento de vitalidad en imágenes audibles. Es una invitación a la reflexión, a la crítica, al disfrute, a la meditación, a la celebración. Y sobre todo es esperanzadora apreciación de la realidad como algo maleable que confeccionamos colectivamente, que requiere de una paciente observación y la participación colectiva global, en un mundo finito pleno de diversidades y del que ignoramos prácticamente todo, al que deberíamos volver con respeto y devoción.

Soinuarenbidea II-ren interpretazio batek premisa honetatik abiatu beharko luke: dena da posible, ezer ez da ausazkoa, eta, berez, ausazkotasun ezinezko bat da. Planteatutako agertokiak errealitate areagotuaren ideia aztertzen du, soinu-, ingurumen- eta talde-pertzepzio batetik abiatuta. Lanak aurrera eta atzera egiten du, etorkizun zalantzagarriko esperientzia desagertuak birsortuz eta helburu baketsua lortzen saiatuz. Soinu-pieza bakoitza sortu, hedatu, tolestu eta suntsitu egiten da, musika-zati bakoitza, identitate akustiko bakoitza eta soinu-espazio bakoitza ahalbidetzen dituen errealitate osoaren etengabeko bihurdura batean. Onirikoa, fikzioa eta bidaia etengabe daude presente, eta pasarte bakoitzaren joan-etorrian gertatzen da musika-erakusketaren elkarrizketa. Fikzio honen elementuak etengabe birsortzen dira, continuum batean, non sintesi zati zehatz bakoitzarekin hazi edo txikitu ahala elkar lotzen eta bihurritzen diren. Esplizituki musikalak diren gaiak diskoari atsegintasuna ematera eramaten duen magma dira, azala testuingurua edo muga izanik, testura eta konfigurazio posibleetan mugarik gabe aldatzen dena. Eta isiltasunaren irazkia etengabe presente dagoen sintesia da, zatiak etengabeko adierazpen-talkan kohesionatzen saiatzen dena. Landa-grabazioek soinu-material zehatza ematen dute, eta soinu-fraktal batek bezala, horietako bakoitzak interpretazio-maila desberdinak eskaintzen ditu, eta horrek, aldi berean, zati eta sorkuntza berrietara eramaten du. Beraz, pentsa daiteke errealitate posible baten sintesia dela, baina hamaika modutan interpreta daitekeena. Egitura eta dinamika akustikoak sortzen dituzten mugimendu eta estatikotasun inplizitu bat. Entzuten dena ez da erreala, baina, berez, errealitatearen parte da, eta agertoki espektakularra sortzen du. Zinematografikoak, plastikoak eta antzerkikoak, dantzariak eta dinamikoak garrantzia hartzen dute joko honetan, ikusizko artearen ikuspegitik birsortutako istorio bat, esperientzia bat, kontatzea baita helburua. Aldi berean, hari gidaria eta entretenimendua da, diskurtso politikoa eta dibertimendu hutsa. Elkarbizitzarako espazio artistiko honetatik osotasunak zentzua du eta planteatutako soinu-formatua justifikatzen du. Obraren kontraesana nabarmena da formatuan, eta, aldi berean, bizi-bilakaeran istripu-tasa bat planteatzea da. Zarata-edukiontziak kontraesan horiek guztiak jasotzen ditu eta Soinuarenbidea II obran adierazten ditu. Soinu istorio bat da, ipuin akustiko bat. Bizitasun zati bat da, irudi entzungarrietan. Hausnarketarako, kritikarako, gozamenerako, meditaziorako eta ospakizunerako gonbidapena da. Eta, batez ere, itxaropentsua da errealitatea modu kolektiboan egiten dugun gauza xaflakor gisa hautematea, behaketa pazientea eta partaidetza kolektibo globala eskatzen dituena, dibertsitatez betetako mundu mugatu batean, ia guztia kontuan hartzen ez duguna, eta errespetuz eta debozioz itzuli beharko genukeena.

An interpretation of Soinuarenbidea II should start from this premise: everything is possible, nothing is random, and in itself is an impossible randomness. The proposed scenario explores the idea of ​​augmented reality from a sonic, environmental, and collective perception. The work moves back and forth, recreating extinct experiences of an uncertain future, seeking to facilitate a peaceful end. Each sound piece is created, unfolds, retreats, and is destroyed, in a permanent twisting of all reality that makes each musical fragment, each acoustic identity, each sonic space possible. The dreamlike, the fictional, and the journey are continually present, and it is in the transit of each fragment that the dialogue of the musical exposition takes place. The elements of this fiction are continually recreated, in a continuum where they intertwine and contort as they grow or diminish with each fragment of concrete synthesis. The explicitly musical themes are the magma that leads to the work's voluptuousness, the skin being a context or boundary that in itself fluctuates indefinitely in possible textures and configurations. And the warp of silence is the synthesis that is continually present and seeks to unite the fragments in a continuous expressive collision. The field recordings provide the concrete sound material, and like a sonic fractal, each one offers different degrees of interpretation that in turn lead to new fragments and new creations. So one can think of this as a synthesis of a possible reality, but interpretable in an infinite number of ways. An implicit movement and staticity that generate acoustic structures and dynamics. What is heard is not real, but in itself is part of reality, creating an expectant scenario. The cinematic, plastic and theatrical, dance and dynamic aspects take on importance in this game, because it is about telling a story, an experience recreated from the perspective of visual art. It is at once a common thread and entertainment, political discourse and pure entertainment. It is from this space of artistic coexistence that the whole makes sense and justifies the proposed sound format. The contradiction of the work is evident in its format, and it is, in turn, the presentation of an accidentality in the course of life. Noise Container gathers all these contradictions and manifests them in the work Soinuarenbidea II. It is a sound story, an acoustic tale. It is a fragment of vitality in audible images. It is an invitation to reflection, to critique, to enjoyment, to meditation, to celebration. And above all, it is a hopeful appreciation of reality as something malleable that we collectively craft, requiring patient observation and global collective participation, in a finite world full of diversity and of which we know practically nothing, to which we should return with respect and devotion.

Paisajes sonoros, diseño sonoro, drones y música grabada, realizada y arreglada para Contenedor de Ruido por David Aranaz. Coro: Basandere Ahotsak. Producido y mezclado por David Aranaz. Mástering: Estanis Elorza. Fotografía: David Aranaz. Texto: David Aranaz. Traducción: Saioa Aranaz Oreja. Trabajo y Diseño artístico: Cristina Martinez. Edición: Contenedor de Ruido Producciones y Sarbide Music. Distribución: Contenedor de Ruido.

Contenedor de Ruido agradece el apoyo en la realización de Soinuarenbidea II al coro Basandere Ahotsak y en especial a Eva Orbara Goicoa.

Soinuarenbidea II está dedicado al pueblo palestino.

Paisajes y objetos Sonoros, samplers y otras músicas transformadas para Soinuarenbidea II
Burlada: Paseos sonoros matinales por Merindad de Sangüesa, Calle Mayor, Capuchinas, Parque Uranga y varias iglesias y plazas. Pasajes del cotidiano: basura de papel, cristal y plástico.
Pamplona: Cementerio de San José. CEIP Sanduzelai /// Quinto Real: Fábrica de Armas, Puerto de Urkiaga y alrededores. Suite del silencio, bosques en movimiento /// Fábrica de armas de Orbaiceta: regatas, biosques, paseo sonoro hasta regata /// Belate: Puerto de Belate y alrededores. Vacas en pradera junto a las turberas /// Bardenas Reales: Suite de guitarra y Suite del silencio, estepa desértica /// Austria: Tranvías de Graz y Viena. Muchedumbre del metro de Viena.
Voces cinematográficas de: Matanza en Texas, Robocop, Espíritu Sagrado, Solo los Amantes Sobreviven, Voces de Gaza, Yojimbo, Terciopelo Azul, Los 7 Magníficos.
La pista A2 está dedicada a la memoria de David Lynch.
La pista B4 está dedicada a Eva Orbara Goicoa.
Pista A4: Contiene interpretaciones de piano de Three Piano Pieces Op.11 de Arnold Schoenberg.
Pista A5: Es una interpretación expandida con síntesis FM del Concerto Op. 24 - Etwas lebhaft - de Anton Webern.
Pista A7: Contiene la canción Besarkatu ninduzun (Letra de Josune López y música de Josu Elberdin) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak en la iglesia de Burutain bajo la tormenta.
Pista B2: Contiene la canción Recuerdos de la Alhambra (Fernando Tárrega) en interpretación torsionada de David Aranaz Sarasa.
Pista B14: Contiene la canción Agur María (Letra y Música de Estíbaliz Robles “Estitxu” y arreglo exclusivo de Alfonso Ortiz para Basandere Ahotsak) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak.

Equipamiento para Soinuarenbidea II.
Micros de condensador SE7, configuración XY y ORTF; Micros de cinta ORTIZ LUTHIER configuración XY y Blumlein; Grabadoras MARANTZ y ZOOM; Sintetizadores y samplers Elektron MONOMACHINE SPS-1, MACHINEDRUM SFX6 y MODEL:SAMPLES. Dave Smith MOPHO. Torso Electronics S-4. Sintetizador Modular 333 DIY; Guitarra clásica ALHAMBRA 6P; Esculturas Sonoras tipo Baschet, cristal y metales; Mesa Soundcraft FX16ii; Interface de Audio RME Babyface Pro FS; DAW Logic Pro; Procesamiento de modelado analógico con Acústica Audio, Waves, Softube, Brainworx, Sonible, Analog Obsesion, Tokio Dawn. Metering de Logic y RME DigiCheck . Amplificación Hafler PRO2400. Monitorización BW DM602 S3. Mezcla digital; Mastering híbrido.

Brussels-based accordionist Suzan Peeters releases her debut album Cassotto on the Belgian label blickwinkel. With Cassotto, she opens a door into a hidden chamber of sound. The title refers to the “cassotto” — a small resonating chamber inside the accordion that warms, softens, and deepens its tone. Listening to this record feels as if you’ve stepped into that room yourself, enveloped in a world where intimacy and grandeur collide.

Although this is her first release, Peeters is already recognised as one of the most promising names in Belgium’s experimental music scene. Her distinctive live shows — from leading venues across Belgium to a packed Café Oto in London — have earned her a reputation for combining accordion, electronics and unconventional objects such as a massage board into a compelling whole where contrasts come together in an unexpected way. Cassotto captures this approach in recorded form, giving listeners the same sense of immediacy as her concerts, but framed within the intimate space suggested by the album’s title.

While the cassotto chamber naturally gives the accordion a soft and velvety voice, Peeters harnesses that warmth to explore extremes — from hushed detail to bold, expansive gestures that fill the room. As such, the album moves between the acoustic and the electronic, the tender and the abrasive, the static and the dynamic, the traditional and the experimental.

With Cassotto, Suzan Peeters presents a debut that places the accordion at the centre of an adventurous and contemporary sound world — one that invites to discover how far an accordion can reach when tradition and imagination intertwine.

Suzan Peeters (*1999) is a Belgian accordionist, composer, and experimentalist. She is constantly looking for new timbres and sound textures within the accordion, pushing its acoustic spectrum to its limits by manipulating the interplay between her body and the body of her instrument.
Suzan studied classical accordion at KASK & Conservatorium in Ghent and at the Royal Danish Academy of Music in Copenhagen. She is currently studying Live Electronics at the Royal Conservatory of Brussels.

Shoegaze slow dance where distortion and desire merge into a single narcotic pulse. Each track feels like a transmission from a beautiful but broken future, numbing the senses before consuming them completely. Much like the most immersive works of Tropic of Cancer or Death in Vegas, the album drifts beneath a flickering sodium sky, lost in reverb and ritual. This is not just another new release—it’s an unforgettable sonic hallucination, a cinematic comedown carved in echo and melancholy, where time and thought dissolve in waves of velvet static. Presented in ONE-OFF truly limited edition of 300 copies lacquered pressed on 180 gr. high quality solid BLACK vinyl, including printed innersleeve with lyrics.

Acclaimed Scottish composer Craig Armstrong releases his new work Pacific via his own label CMA Records. Written for piano, cello, and electronics, the three-movement piece was originally commissioned in December 2024 by Christian Kellersman, a pioneering figure in contemporary classical and jazz music, for his new live event series Berlin Confidential, co-curated with Alexander Szlovák. The series aims to promote innovative new music projects, with a particular focus on emerging musicians and composers.

Armstrong was among the first artists invited to perform as part of Berlin Confidential, premiering Pacific at Berlin’s historic Meistersaal concert hall in March 2025. The concert featured Armstrong on piano alongside cellist Lena Angelina von Almen and producer and musician Guy Sternberg, combining acoustic instruments with live electro-acoustic treatments to create a rich and atmospheric sound world.

Recorded in May 2025 at Lowswing Studios in Kreuzberg, Pacific continues Armstrong’s ongoing exploration of blending acoustic and electronic sound in a natural, seamless way. Over several days in the studio, Armstrong, von Almen and Sternberg developed the work’s intricate textures and dynamic interplay, resulting in a recording that captures both the intimacy and expansiveness of the original live performance.

Speaking about the inspiration behind the piece, Armstrong says: “I wrote this work during a time of great instability in the world, I wrote “Pacific” as an Elegy dedicated to the many suffering in today’s conflicts and in the hope that peace will prevail.”

Across its three movements, Pacific 1 is elegiac in nature, with the main themes stated and developed throughout the piece, punctuated by recurring piano motifs. The movement is reflective and atmospheric, with subtle electronic interventions. The second movement is arrhythmic in nature, following shifting time signatures that reflect a sense of uncertainty - the music is searching and static, ending without resolution but leaving hope for one to come. Pacific 3 moves towards peace and resolution, bringing the work to a close with quiet strength and emotional release.

When speaking about the creative process and his collaborators, Armstrong said: “Lena’s beautiful playing , tone and expression worked so beautifully on Pacific, Lena was also a great collaborator and was always willing to experiment and try new musical approaches. Lena is such a natural musician and she brought so much emotion and beauty to the piece. I wish her all the best in her future musical journey.”

He continues: Guy is a unique combination of being a brilliant engineer and mixer and a prolific very talented musician/composer. I was very fortunate to spend time with Guy in his studio in Berlin. His sensitivity to the project and his electronic programming made a wonderful contribution to the composition. His collaboration and friendship made the days working in Berlin such a great experience I would like to thank Emma Ford for her dedication, enthusiasm and guidance on Pacific”

For both von Almen and Sternberg, the collaboration was equally meaningful. Von Almen reflects on the experience of recording the piece, saying: “As a musician, it is always a great privilege to work on a piece together with the composer, and of course I felt even luckier to go through the process of creating something new with an artist like Craig Armstrong. Figuratively speaking, it felt like knitting a silk scarf: using the finest materials and taking the utmost care during the recording, we have realised another beautiful and touching work by Craig, which will bring us and certainly many others great joy. I feel very honoured to have been part of this and to have experienced this warm encounter.”

Sternberg adds: “Diving into Armstrong’s music while working on this record felt like examining a diamond under a microscope, discovering endless beauty within simplicity. Perfection and complexity emerging from simplicity, where every note, tone, noise, and gesture has meaning. I’m deeply grateful to have been part of this process, and for the freedom Craig gave me to express myself through his music, to let our sonic visions merge into one. It’s been both a lesson in music-making and in setting the ego aside, if only for a moment.”

Reflecting Armstrong’s belief in the role of music as a force for empathy and reflection, proceeds from Pacific will be donated to charities working towards peace: Médecins Sans Frontières and the Red Cross.

The limited-edition vinyl release has been pressed on Eco Vinyl at SeaBass Vinyl, a sustainable plant near Edinburgh. The record features striking cover art by Dirk Rudolph, who has designed several of Armstrong’s previous releases.

DJ Support: Andy Votel, Nemone (BBC Radio 6), Andy Bell, The Quietus and more

The sweet hum from the vampire wood returns as Five Green Moons make another orbit. Ritual incantations and Dubwise vibrations are fused with angular guitars and skittering basement electronics to form a new entity. Moon 2.

Justin Robertson's second outing as Five Green Moons is a fusion of influences. The presence of occult mystery can be felt in the chants and vocal motifs, there lurks a manifestation of elastic post punk in the zigzag echo further enhanced by the appearance of Brix Smith, former high priestess of the Fall on two tracks. One could draw comparisons with P.I.L, Holy Tongue, the hauntological sound of Current 93, the trippy off kilter hypnotism of Brown Rice era Don Cherry, and of course the solid foundations of Dub. The bass is heavy, the sound spacious. This is a new form of pastoral dub!

Pressed on Limited Green Vinyl.

Eisenmund, the debut by Berlin-based Schimmel über Berlin is a thing of pounding, brittle beauty that seeks to continue on from where angst-ridden, early-eighties Berlin left off. Angular, monophonic synths, guitars that slice through with wiry yet melodic urgency, basslines that pulse with a taut, driven precision and drums that meld everything together. Liv Billerbeck’s vocals come from the middle distance, drifting between detached and desperate, as if transmitted through a wintery cityscape.

Title track Eisenmund jangles with reedy synths floating over a carpet of bass and mournful vocals dripping with a sense of loss. This mood spills over into the other tracks, like post-punk jewel Schreck with its iridescently lovely guitars.

Eisenmund is sharp, atmospheric, and quietly thrilling - proof that the shadows of the eighties can still dance under today's flickering lights. The album, immaculately produced by T-Rex, captures that classic post-punk mood of urban decay, late-night introspection and stubborn sense of motion, which for someone like me, who was there back in the day, seems utterly familiar without ever sinking into mere nostalgia.

Fiona Sangster (Xmal Deutschland)
Die Band Schimmel über Berlin ist eines der vielen Klanggesichter der Liv Billerbeck, ein Gesicht, das man niemals sieht, das im Verborgenen sich umblickt und agiert und das trotzdem aber in einer seltenen Klarheit erscheint. Man sieht es beim Hören, schemenhaft. Ihr Schaffen ist befallen vom West-Berlin der 1980er Jahre (Xmal Deutschland, Malaria etc.).

Eine Rolle, gerade in der musikalischen Brillanz und Produktionsraffinesse, spielt britischer Post-Punk, der sich sehr klar auch im treibenden Spiel von T-Rex ​​​(Bass + Produktion), Việt Phương Vũ (Gitarre) und Christian Ramisch (Schlagzeug – mit Phương übrigens bei der ebenfalls sehr guten Band NOJ) zeigt: The Sound, Killing Joke et. al.!

Es handelt sich bei dieser Musik um einen Sound mit retroesquem Anstrich, der spürbar eine vergangene Luft atmet, einer Nostalgie an eine ferne Zeit anheimfällt, die das Quartett ob ihres Alters nicht erlebt haben kann, und die vielmehr eine Sehnsucht bedeutet, in der Unerfüllbarkeit eine Melancholie mitbringt, eine Art treibende Traurigkeit spürbar macht. Das allein ist groß! Was weitergehend daran aber so interessant, besonders und wahnsinnig schön ist: Das klingt in Billerbecks Schaffen – und insbesondere hier, beim Schimmel über Berlin – nicht wie eine Kopie, ein Abklatsch, eine Reminiszenz oder das, was in der so called NNDW bald flächendeckend geschieht: das Anzapfen einer überholten Coolness. Denn etwas ist ganz gegenwärtig daran, in der Eigenständigkeit, macht einem eindringlich das Hier und Jetzt spürbar, auf unterschiedlichen Ebenen: Traurigkeit, ja, aber auch Bock, bis in die Morgenstunden auszugehen, schnellen Schrittes über rutschiges Kopfsteinpflaster zu traben. Musik dann wieder zum Verkrümeln in zugigen Altbauten, von Schreien über einen nebelbedeckten See im Umland Berlins.

Und eben kein Eskapismus, auch wenn die Musik zur Flucht taugte. Merkwürdig ist, dass in dieser Retroschleife dann etwas Märchenhaftes mitschwingt. Vielleicht liegt es auch in der authentischen 1980er-Jahre Produktion, in der immer wieder so ein Klimpern, ein Schellen durchkommt. Es mag aber auch an den Texten liegen, die etwas von Minnesang haben und in ihrer Klarheit, die aus der Kühle und den Kargheiten (der Vergangenheit, der Gegenwart, der Zukunft) entsteht, doch Wärme transportieren.

Wir hören darin heute, trotz all dem Bewusstsein für die Vergangenheit, den Sound einer seltenen Dichterin der Gegenwart. Das ist von einer Intensität, die einen bald absorbiert. Eisenmund etwa, das Titelstück, ist so ein Song, bei dem man sich hinsetzen oder gleich hinlegen muss. Da sind Dinge, die man nicht ändern kann. Wie geht das? Also: nach vorne, heftig, und dann aber so weich und traurig. Hätten Schimmel über Berlin die 1980er-Jahre dieser Stadt beschallt, sie wären hiermit, das mögen sie selbst vielleicht gar nicht hören, die Helden dieser Zeit gewesen. Eisenmund ist das tollste Album, das mir seit Jahren begegnet ist – und die bisherige Klimax dessen, was aus der Allee der Kosmonauten hervorgeht.

Und wenn man das alles so hört, aufmerksam hört, wird einem, obwohl das alles so ein einziger, riesiger Hit ist, völlig klar: Hier geht es nicht darum, irgendwo damit zu landen, irgendwo mitzumischen, erfolgreich zu sein oder in aller Munde. Hier geht es darum, einfach nur genau das zu machen, was es ist! Alles andere ist egal.

Der Klagegesang wird mich immer umwehen.

– Hendrik Otremba

The first ASFON release has been a year-long labour of love that has come into being from what felt like a lucid dream, off in the distance, too crazy to believe was real. From our first meeting in the Freerotation yurt to late-night exchanges in Bristol, Winkles (Jamie Slater) has been sharing tracks that lingered long after the party ended. Their raw textures and warped sense of time found a natural home in our sets, eventually leading to the emergence of ‘The Unavoidable EP’, a collection of four diverse tracks which form a singular, immersive experience.

On A1 journey, The Unavoidable Consequence Of Familiarity, a knocking kick opens the door to this new sound world, introducing us to the granular clicks, crazed telephony and vocoded grunts which populate the deep space of Winkles’ imagination. Machines whir and perception shifts in the space between distant synth stabs, while a pulsating bassline battles to break through the filter and create a throbbing low end. Hallucinatory and deep, this is the perfect introduction to both the EP and the ASFON outlook.

Semi Stretches sees Winkles pick up a signal from beyond the outer rim, fire up the hyperdrive and lock into the rolling hum of intergalactic techno. Juggernaut bass forms the perfect counterpoint to the rapid fire rim shots trembling away up top as this Venusian club craft battles static, drives through the milky cosmic and transports the dancing bodies to a Multicoloured Plasticine Universe.

Cutting the engines and switching to suspended animation, Winkles lets us drift through a hazy dream-space where there’s no up or down, where twinkling arps, insectile electronics and hazy sirens coalesce into a psychotropic swirl.

Out of this multicoloured mirage comes Osaka-based astral traveller Erik Luebs, who translates that peak-time ambient bubbler into a Balearic chugger which emerges from the ether to add another dimension to the EP. Rubberised bass, velvet pads and nuanced percussion ensure this is perfect for poolside play in a land of pink sand and sideways tides.

Steve Hauschildt returns after 6 years with a new album titled Aeropsia. After a transcontinental relocation from the US to Tbilisi, Georgia, the electronic composer emerges from a personal and global transformation to explore themes of perceptual distortion, disconnection, and renewal.

Aeropsia (which roughly translates as “seeing the air”) refers to a visual phenomenon in which objects appear to float or shimmer, often due to changes in pressure, perception, atmospheric shifts or neurological disturbance. This becomes a metaphor for the liminality that informs the record: blurry visions, dreamlike displacements, and the fragile membrane separating what is seen from what is felt.

In the years since his last solo release, Hauschildt’s world has been marked by relocation and a growing sense of global turbulence. These experiences became the raw material for a work that navigates institutional haze and uncertainty itself. The result is music that employs decay as method, structure as entropy, and mutation as expression.

While Aeropsia remains subjective in its vision, Hauschildt invited two previous collaborators to expand the album’s gravitational pull. Cellist Lia Kohl, who previously performed on Nonlin, returns and brings a tactile warmth to select tracks, while guitarist Michael Vallera threads spectral harmonics into the mix. The album’s electronic foundation and its tactile elements meet in a state of luminous suspension to navigate the shifting in physical and psychological terrain.

The Vestige is the first fruit of a new intergenerational collaboration between Giuseppe Ielasi, a quietly prolific key contributor to the European experimental music scene for over twenty years, and Jack Sheen, a young composer-conductor-sound artist from Manchester whose recent projects have seen him moving seamlessly from enigmatic chamber music composition and installations to conducting the London Symphony Orchestra. Their materials and working methods differ significantly, with Ielasi having focussed for many years on electro-acoustic techniques alongside his ongoing commitment to the guitar, and Sheen primarily composing for traditional instruments. More important, though, is what they share: a fascination with what Sheen calls “mysterious, liminal musical material,” using irregular repetition and cyclical forms to create structures at once alive with activity and almost static, as well as a rigorous exploration of spatial diffusion and the interaction of sound event and environment. Working individually with a library of acoustic instrument sounds from Sheen’s recent projects and Ielasi’s guitar, the pair eventually met for several days at Ielasi’s home studio in Monza, sculpting the fourteen pieces that make up The Vestige. Like Ielasi and Sheen’s solo works, the record shows an exquisite attention to details of sequencing and pacing, the sound palette and compositional approach consistent throughout while each piece asserts its own identity. The twenty-five seconds of the opening piece serve as an entrée into the record’s distinctive world of sound: repeated chirps fluctuate in volume as they move across the stereo spectrum, woven between strangled snatches of string glissando against a backdrop of percussive ticks, long tones, and white noise. Across the remaining thirteen pieces, Ielasi and Sheen sketch further dimensions of the ambiguous space, where distinctions between pitch and noise, repetition and irregularity, electronic and acoustic remain pointedly unclear. As the record’s title suggests, the origins of the sounds we hear have become remote: while at moments we get flashes of timbres and attacks that could come from wind instruments, bowed strings, or prepared guitar, these remain vestigial traces, glimpsed through a veil of shifting white noise textures. These textures are themselves difficult to trace, suggesting artefacts of the recording process, electronic synthesis, amplified room sound, rubbed instruments or objects. The Vestige shows an unusual degree of attention to frequency range as a compositional tool, something it shares with the hyper-subtle variations of Ielasi’s electroacoustic works and the deliberately ‘unbalanced’ midrange-heavy ensemble of Sheen’s Sub. Here, movement between episodes is as much about adding or removing a frequency band as it is about changes in density, harmonic content, or instrumental texture. Tracks are marked by the sudden appearance of subbass or exaggeration of high frequencies in otherwise similar material, contributing to our sense that these fourteen pieces are like different views on a scene that we can never quite see clearly. While calling up a range of past music, from the early works of Rolf Julius to Simha Arom’s recordings of layered polyrhythms embedded in the background sounds of central African villages to the temporal distortions and layered hiss of DJ Screw, the alluring and disconcerting world of The Vestige is entirely its own.

The Crippled Flower was a post-punk band from Düsseldorf - and they arrived late. However, unlike many young, unsuspecting, hairsprayed hopefuls from that time, in 1985 they could sense that the end of their era was approaching. They knew too much to want to take the world by storm. They were four individualists searching their own way. Each of the band members only found their calling after the time that they had spent together – but that's exactly what makes The Crippled Flower still seem really interesting today, this static energy that does not discharge, but is simply there.

Searching dreamers should sound like that and that's what they were. Singer Phil Elston, for example, had brought his love of Kraftwerk from England to Düsseldorf. Even his bandmates found this strange, but they were also entangled in their own longings. This is because the times were still so crazy and these searchers were "on fire". A fire that glows in the band's recordings.

Listening to the songs today, The Crippled Flower sound like they are hugely at the height of their game; think of Wire, Felt, Scritti Politti or Minimal Compact. The variety of musical themes, as well as different soundscapes, which the band created can only be listened to in amazement. Often, it is only Phil Elston's Sprechgesang that confirms that this is really the same band. However, it was back in 1985 when, importantly, the catalyst that brought the musicians together - the short lived eclectic record store "Heartbeat" in Düsseldorf Bilk - occured. It was there where post-industrial and pop, melodic minimal music and sound attacks awaited those who wanted to discover music by artists and bands they did not yet know.

Cassette releases. All recorded on 4-Track. The Crippled Flower succeeded in this medium. Firstly, with a cassette just entited The Crippled Flower, working from project-like studio recorded sketches. Four more tracks from the short-lived band appeared in 1986 on "A Heartbeat Rendezvous“. A demo tape submitted to Les Disques du Crépuscule, however, did not lead to a worldwide career and so, unfortunately, it was soon over.

Stefan Krausen moved on to the follow-up project Deux Baleines Blanches with Stefan Schneider, which, in 1994, gave rise to the band Kreidler. Krausen was already drumming with the I-Burnettes on AtaTak and much later he studied painting in Munich. Nina Ahlers moved from Düsseldorf to Paris to study art, because in the 80s it was still the case that Paris was the destination of choice for those really wanting to become an artist – and that's what she did. Her work is characterized by a non-academic minimalism focusing on everyday objects. Stefan Schneider remained connected to music. Only Phil Elston, who helped sabotage fox hunts in England and wrote these observant lyrics about environmental destruction and time travel, seems to have escaped the social-media world. Whether he found Kraftwerk-fulfilment in Düsseldorf or moved on disillusioned remains a mystery to us. And somehow this also fits in with that peculiar, special band. - Oliver Tepel, Köln 2025 (Translation by Philipp Elston)

*180g virgin leaded vinyl in a deluxe textured heavy gatefold cover, with paste-on artwork and special anti-static innersleeve.* Note: The pressing is absolute on point!!!!

Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon with a beautifully recorded suite of songs and instrumentals.

" More than two decades since he blew minds with a suite of brilliant releases on Warp, Vincent Gallo returns to the world of music at long last in Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon, with the project’s full-length debut, “The Music of Butterfly”. A gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, while interweaving fascinating flirtations with minimalism and experimentalism, it’s a truly captivating piece of work that’s hard to get off the turntable after the first needle drop.

In the arts, the lines between genius and madness, as well as fact and fiction, often blur. Such, it seems, has always been the life of the artist, filmmaker, actor, musician, and composer Vincent Gallo. A cult figure and a member of various creative undergrounds for the better part of half a century, Gallo has courted controversy, ruffled feathers, and made some of the most singular statements to flirt at the outer edges of popular culture that can be called to mind. Arguably most well known for his work in film, during the late '90s and early 2000s - notably with his soundtrack for “Buffalo 66” and a suite of releases on Warp - Gallo became something of a sensation in the world of independent music for a visionary, incredibly unique and sensitive approach to sonority. For a time, the world was abuzz, waiting on bated breath for more, and yet time passed. Bar a few fragments, appearing here and there, almost nothing has been heard from Gallo, within the world of music, for more than 20 years. That is, until now, with the release of “The Music of Butterfly”, the debut full-length of Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon: beautifully produced and issued by Family Friend Records - Gallo’s own label, founded in 1981 - in a deluxe edition that simply left us speechless: 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve. More or less picking up from where we last encountered him, spinning captivating melodies and gentle song-craft within the quieter temperaments of DIY, left-field pop, once again, and at long last, Vincent Gallo, encountered in an incredibly successful collaboration with Harper Simon as Butterfly, reminds us that he’s as much a force within the realm of music as he is within film. Not to be missed. This one isn’t going to sit around for long.

Vincent Gallo’s biography reads like the stuff of blaring beauty: a figure of moderate fame in his own right, who has remained at the centre of cultural ferment as the decades have rolled by. Born in 1961, in Buffalo, New York, as the story goes he ran away to New York City at the age of 16 and fell into the brewing counterculture of the Downtown scene, William Burroughs and John Giorno, in addition to the cream of his own peers, and began making paintings, music, and experimenting with film. In addition to being a member of the now legendary band Gray, with the artist, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and the filmmaker, Michael Holman, Gallo appeared in the cult 1981 film “Downtown 81”, before slowly beginning a career as an actor and catching the eye of Claire Denis, who brought his talents into the broader cultural gaze. Catapulted into the public by his own subsequent career as a filmmaker with “Buffalo '66” (1998) and “The Brown Bunny” (2003), both of which were marked by controversy and praise, Gallo further captivated the public with a partially brilliant, if not relatively brief, flurry of activity in the realms of music.

While Gallo had already been making music for roughly two decades at the time of his release of the “Brown Bunny” soundtrack, and the four release issued by Warp in rapid succession between 2001 and 2002 - “When”, “Honey Bunny”, “So Sad”, and “Recordings of Music for Film” - the almost fanatical fandom reached a fever pitch at the moment, allowing him, for some, to be regarded as much, if not more, as a musical artist than an actor and filmmaker. Anyway you cut it, in a few short years, he proved himself to be a polymath of rare talent. Somewhere along the way, while both were working as members of Yoko Ono's Plastic One Band, Gallo met the New York based, highly regarded singer-songwriter, guitarist, and producer, Harper Simon, who also happens to be the son of Paul Simon. The pair fell into an incredibly fruitful duo collaboration, which came to be called Butterfly, and “The Music of Butterfly” being their debut full-length release.

Written, performed, and recorded by Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon in New York City between the winter of 2018 and the spring of 2019, the ten tracks comprising “The Music of Butterfly” are cumulatively a gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, making one feel like barely a moment had passed since we’d encountered his graceful hand at song-craft. Stripped back and raw, while retaining a sense of warmth and intimacy, across the length of “The Music of Butterfly” the duo of Gallo and Simon weave something completely captivating at the juncture of minimalism, experimentalism, and pop: meandering moments of texture and tone, slowly forming toward flirtations of melody that flower into song and back again. Somehow playful and light, while also remarkably emotive and personal, it’s almost as though each of these tracks crystallised out the air, unlabored and exactly as they should be without a note or beat more.

An engrossing immersion into both Gallo and Simon’s remarkably accomplished minds, having followed the path toward one another after radically different experiences and careers, “The Music of Butterfly” is one of those records that’ll be hard to get off the turntable after that first needle drop, and rarely leave the listening pile for some time to come. Issued by Family Friend Records in a beautiful deluxe edition that is unmatched even among the most stunning recent productions we can call to mind - 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve - it’s lovely to have Gallo back in the musical mix after so many years. "

Enxin/Onyx, the duo of Nicky Mao/Hiro Kone and Tot Onyx (formerly group A), joins Other People with their debut album "In Rupture," capturing the same mesmerizing energy for which their live sets have become known.

“In Rupture” is not painless but in rupture lies possibility. The elasticity of this time pitching us across unknown terrain, revealing new potentialities, eclipsing static being. Whether in breach, collision,shimmer or severance, Enxin/Onyx explores these as occasions for transformation. Peeling back the layers through discord and harmony, exciting the inversion of expectation, towing the listener to depths and back up again to illuminate the senses. At times metallic and feral, at others murky and sharp, each song serves as an offering for all that is in rupture; body, spirit, land, ecosystem.
The opening track “A Void” calls to mind some mutation in its mechanical ecstasy, but for what purpose remains unknown. Even in the near moments of stillness, “Needle Pierces the Threshold” breathes a forceful disquietude. Tommi’s vocals pulling the listener down into some subterranean
madness, to unravel upwards from all sides, flooding the once parched landscape. In “Embers Kissthe Eye”, all of time emerges in one moment, compelling the subject’s gaze towards a new horizon.
The album follows its subjects through exile, exhumation and discovery. Through this process plates shift, fissures are revealed and what once appeared to be indomitable absolutes crack, pointing towards their inevitable collapse. To be in rupture is regeneration, to be in rupture is to return.

On his third album as Etelin, Alex Cobb explores the intricacies of separation and belonging using field recordings and electronics, reconfiguring the dividing line between what is artificial and natural in the process. Maintaining a sense of playful reverence and lurking melancholy in its glitchy pastoralism, Patio User Manual hums with a meticulous and singular energy. From the loops and static pulses of "The Chemistry of Cobalt" to the tension and release of "Electrical Sailing," the listener is pulled into a sound world at once ambivalent and radiant, reaching its denouement in the lovely melody that closes the final track, "Picnic at Gas Station Park". Although the album might bring to mind the nuanced and imaginative ambient music published by labels such as Mille Plateaux, Sonig, and Silent Records in the 1990s, it is, in the end, a world of its own and very much of today. The patio as a stage for alienated life, pyrrhic in its isolation, deceptive in its promise of distinction. Orientation as disorientation, often unseen inside the frame but felt in the bones. What is out there, anyway, other than the thing we fear the most?



"Another day of weird weather and screens. What type of perfume did Philip Johnson wear when he designed Glass House? Is it actually possible to flee to the country when you’ve internalized a lifetime of intellectualized urban living? When you buy a DIY patio kit, you get instructions for how best to embed concrete or brick or flagstone into the natural world. The patio will make you enjoy your environment more. It will become yours. You can stand on it and think “this is Mine.” The structuralists talked about the importance of fixed camera position, but didn’t properly interrogate it because to do so would be impossible. It’s hard to believe that it really wasn’t long ago that computer music seemed exciting, novel, even radical. We’re now thoroughly estranged from eating what’s in season. Walking around the woods in southern Ohio in spring, I thought about the curious imperative of the patio, how my kids get excited about picking oyster mushrooms, the dynamics of switched capacitor filters, and how adequacy is tethered to doubt." - AC, May 2024

Black Truffle is thrilled to begin 2025 with a rare solo release from Konrad Sprenger, alias of elusive Berlin composer-producer-instrument builder Jörg Hiller. A prolific collaborator, Sprenger has worked extensively with icons of American minimalism such as Ellen Fullman (with whom her recorded the gloriously eccentric song album Ort) and Arnold Dreyblatt (as a core member of the Orchestra of Excited Strings since 2009), as well as releasing their music on his impeccably curated label, Choose. As an instrument builder and installation artist, he has overseen the creation of a computer-controlled multi-channel electric guitar and, with Phillip Sollmann, a modular pipe organ system designed to be reconfigured from space to space.

In much of Hiller’s work, a scientific approach to acoustic phenomena co-exists with a pop sensibility and a sly sense of humour. Nowhere is this unique combination more in evidence than in his slim body of solo work, beginning with the startling diversity of instrumentation and compositional approaches heard on the short pieces of Miniaturen (2006) and Versprochen (2009), followed by the more single-minded exploration of the computer-controlled electric guitar on Stack Music (2017). Set brings together these various strands of Sprenger’s work into a wildly infectious, playful epic, performed by the composer and the mysterious Ensemble Risonanze Moderne. On the LP’s second side, we are also treated to a guest appearance from longtime collaborator Oren Ambarchi, on whose recent solo releases Simian Angel and Shebang Sprenger has made key production contributions. Ambarchi’s signature stuttering, swirling harmonics weave through a sparkling assemblage of electric guitars, acoustic instruments, percussion and electronics—though, given the deft use that much of Sprenger’s recent production work makes of midi-controlled sampled instrumentation, it’s anyone’s guess where the acoustic ends and the digital begins here.

As soon as the needle drops on the first side, we are inside a musical world that Set will inhabit for its 33 minutes: sparkling guitar harmonics and palm-muted notes, tuned percussion, crisp electronic drum hits, flashes of horns, and untraceable bursts of synthetic sound are arranged into a skittering polyrhythmic framework calling up the detail-rich percussive constructions of contemporary techno filtered through the pointillism of the post-serialist European avant-garde. Behind this shifting mist of particulate sound, winds and strings sound out held chords, reminiscent of Arthur Russell’s Tower of Meaning in their epic yet seemingly aimless drift. The relationship between elements is mysterious, appearing both carefully considered and almost random. Though never straying too far from where it begins, as the piece moves along, it spotlights increasingly bizarre instrument choices (shakuhachi and steel drums, anyone?) as well as momentary liftoffs into motorik propulsion. Set is a fascinating, mercurial thing: at once propulsive and fragmented, essentially static in form yet ever-changing in detail, unabashedly egghead in its construction yet sure to get the feet tapping.

Two new SUPRAWAX releases by Eduardo De La Calle.

The four tracks on offer here bear testimony to De La Calle's search for the perfect loop. They are hypnotic grooves, almost entirely devoid of arrangement in a classical sense. But the tracks are not static. They suck you in by means of constant modulations, build free flowing structures of their own, hints of peaks emerging at the mercy of the low frequency oscillators' cleverly set phase relationships. These tracks do not need the in-your-face kick drums and squashed dynamics of the Brickwall Generation. By leaving space, they work on a different level than solely sound pressure emanated. The simple, repetitive structure coupled with the unhasty development find their way into the dancer's brain. Moving your mind—your ass to follow suit.

No represses are planned at present.

Lili Holland-Fricke and Sean Rogan’s debut album “dear alien” is a constellation of radiant improvised impulses, imagined in lucent fragments of cello, guitar and voice. Spacious, tender and glistening with rich electronic distortion, the record melds a spectrum of processed and natural sound as the artists invite listeners into their dreamlike world of synergetic introspections.

Cultivated through a shared spirit of resourcefulness and play, “dear alien” emerges as an organic meeting place in the compositional output of British-German experimental cellist Lili Holland-Fricke and Manchester-born guitarist and producer Sean Rogan. Having studied their respective instruments at the Royal Northern College of Music, both artists have flourished in eclectic solo and collaborative projects, creating intricate and intimate spheres of sound with a deep appreciation for songwriting and improvisation.

Holland-Fricke’s transition from the classical world to writing her own material, and later vastly expanding her palette with electronics, first converged with Rogan’s distinctive flair for production in 2022 on her EP “birdsong for breakfast” and single ‘draw on the walls’. Now, the duo present an album envisioned through true ‘50/50’ collaboration during the summer of 2023, written across two intensive weeks of improvising and experimenting at Rogan’s Greenwich home studio. A convergence of the artists’ sounds and influences, the music was fostered by the idea of making an album with ‘no plan’ and their shared recent discovery of Arthur Russell, to whom the final track is dedicated.

“dear alien” assembles eight compositions that emerged naturally as the duo created sketches with cello and pedals, guitar, tape loops and poetic vocal musings, forming songs that explore themes of waiting, circling back around, and glitchy communication. Moments of drifting through pillowy layers of sound contrast with saturated visions of electronic modification, where the record’s glowing instrumental contours are pushed to the extremes.

The plaintive shades of ‘half blue’ and meandering deliberations of ‘slow thing’ are teased by the friction of static signals and a sense of ever-mutating sonic mass – a sensibility most acutely realised in ‘dawning’, where cello-vocoder eruptions grow in magnitude, the absence of sound between them burdened with something sinister and unspoken. As the artists expand on this piece, ‘It’s the sound equivalent of squeezing your eyes shut to shield against the brightness of something you don’t want to see, only to find that each time you open them again the world is not softening but getting more relentlessly overwhelming, to the point of being totally blinding.’

Three tracks with lyrics – ‘at first’, ‘dear alien’ and ‘seem asleep’ – refract the album’s wistful and melancholic colours into poetic imagery and metaphors, ushering in reflections on relationship tensions and someone close feeling unknown, with hints towards wider unsettled feelings about climate change. In the spirit of lyrical improv, ‘seem asleep’ compiles lone lines from Holland-Fricke’s journals into a cut-and-paste collage around hopeful patience or futile lingering – either way conjuring a softness that welcomes the hazy ambience of ‘for a. r.’, the final composition which soundscapes the summer days spent making the album. As the artists describe of this track, ‘The music kind of leads somewhere, but then kind of leads nowhere, and just meanders around where it is, content to just be walking in a circle back to where it started.’

The sea has long been central to Japanese culture, symbolizing both sustenance and spiritual depth. Charles A.D.'s Deep Diver draws inspiration from this, channeling the ancient traditions of diving and fishing into his music. Historically, the sea has influenced everything from Shinto rituals to the livelihoods of coastal communities. In Deep Diver, this reverence flows through aquatic soundscapes, where rhythmic waves of 90s house and Detroit techno meet Japanese minimal production techniques, New Age and Pacific Jazz. Like the tides, the album ebbs and flows, creating a serene yet dynamic homage to the timeless connection between Japan and the sea.
The opening track 'Deep Diver' plunges into the depths, its abstract sound design capturing the sensation of deep-sea propulsion. Rhythmic bubbles pulse gently alongside slow-moving chords, creating an otherworldly atmosphere. The textures are lush yet restrained, setting a tranquil stage that pulls the listener into a submerged world. 'Underwater Ruins' builds on this aquatic theme, introducing rhythmic layers and bass-heavy notes reminiscent of mid-90s Japanese ambient techno. The smooth, melodic flow nods to pioneers like Mr.YT and Susumu Yokota, while subtly incorporating the Detroit techno influence through soulful, deep basslines.
The track feels like a fusion of ambient and techno, balancing serene tones with a rolling groove, emblematic of Japanese techno soul. As the album progresses into 'Bubble Ring', it becomes clear that Charles A.D. is a master of minimalism. The production is timeless, leaning
on analog techniques where echo-drenched chords and carefully layered soundscapes take on an addictive, hypnotic quality. The simplicity of the composition is deceptive, as each element carries weight, drawing the listener deeper into the rhythm and space between the notes.
'Merperson' is where organic rhythms truly come into play. Charles A.D. gently evolves the patterns, allowing each percussive hit to flow naturally into the next. Soothing melodies emerge from within the track’s structure, eventually reaching an emotional peak without ever feeling forced. The organic nature of the arrangement creates an effortless progression that feels deeply connected to the natural movement of water.Starting the second half with 'Deep Exploration', the theme of underwater excursions becomes even more pronounced. Light, steady drumming anchors the track, allowing the melodic layers
to develop gradually. It unfolds with a calm, measured pace, before ending softly, almost as if the sounds are drifting off into the oceanic depths. 'Diffuse Reflection' stands out as the most dub house-influenced on the album, with rolling rhythms and hypnotic elements reminiscent of Maurizio's deep, pulsing sound. Yet here, the production feels submerged, with aquatic effects swirling around the rhythmic core, blending dub house with a fluid, oceanic touch. 'Traitors' delves even deeper into dub-inspired territory. Deep, resonant bass hits combine with wooden drums, while static-like sounds evoke the image of a radio tuning through static to find clarity.
Chords shimmer briefly before fading back into the liquid depths, evoking the ebb and flow of the tide. The final track on Deep Diver 'Levitation', is a fitting conclusion, as the rhythms merge and overlap like waves gently lapping the shore. The minimalistic arrangement allows each element to blend effortlessly into the next, creating a sense of unity and closure. The sounds move with the gentle grace of water, ending the album in a way that feels both complete and
open-ended, like the infinite motion of the sea.

Steve Moore returns to the library music fold and it's a total doozy: Cursed Objects is truly sensational prog-synth-wave. Featuring epic electronic explorations with chamber music and symphonic flourishes, it's our favourite thing Steve has ever done. In keeping with the horror heat of the music contained within, this vinyl release is frighteningly limited, with just 500 pressed for the world.

New York-based multi-instrumentalist/producer/film composer Steve Moore is probably best known for his synthesizer and bass guitar work as Zombi, together with Anthony Paterra. But he is also part of Miracle and Titan as well as being a prolific solo artist releasing music as Gianni Rossi, Lovelock and under his own name. Steve’s music has found a home across hallowed labels like Future Times, Mexican Summer, LIES, Static Caravan, Kompakt, Death Waltz, Ghost Box and, of course, Be With Records.

Steve released Cursed Objects for fresh library label Fold. Run by ex-KPM head Paul Sandell, it's a library with values we can all get behind. It's the first production music platform working exclusively with independent labels, publishers and artists to create a truly authentic artist-led sound, at production music rates. Here's what Steve had to say: "I had worked with Paul before, at KPM. After he left, he mentioned that he had started a new library - Fold - and I was very interested in being a part. And I happened to be working on a bunch of music at the time that I thought could fit." So here we are!

The LP opens by letting in "The Uninvited One". Calm and relaxed arpeggiated synths build around sweeping strings and plucked harp to create a mystical and hopeful feel. The title track sees dark synths merge and swell with a piano, string and harp melody that is dark, mysterious and brooding. "Evolutionary Steps" is an electro synthwave track that builds with epic strings and beats, offering an expansive and dreamy approach with a mystical and driving rhythm. Next up, "The Icarus Feather" is daring, pulsing and cinematic synthwave that builds with arpeggiated synths to a hopeful end. "Daily Affirmations" offers calm and meditative ambient synths with plucked harp and strings for a reflective, peaceful, daydreamy feel.

“Mesmer's Bauble” ushers in side two, its dark synth backing builds with plucked harp and strings building with a sense of unknown and dread; it's introspective and heartfelt. "Quiet Springs" is all mystical synths, harps and strings, building to an epic panoramic scope with a hopeful and poignant atmosphere. "Festival Of Samhain" presents a dark and brooding piano melody which builds with synths and strings to create a slow and desolate feel. "The Icarus Feather (Revisited)" is epic building synthwave with arpeggiated synths and strings and a driving rhythm - the beat builds with the strings entering a forceful and marching mood. To close, "Shard Of Medusa" rides a serious and dark piano melody and, in concert with harp and strings, it creates a suspenseful and solemn atmosphere.

Steve recorded Cursed Objects, as always, at his home studio in Albany, NY. For synths, he mostly used his trusty Prophet 6, as well as his Moog Minitaur and lots of Korg Polysix too. But he also utilised a lot of virtual instruments - he doesn't have the budget for a full string section, or a harpist, alas.

The album’s cover was designed by Chris Stevenson. The artwork is a nod to first wave cyberpunk and in particular Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash and the idea of mind viruses and cursed data. Mastering for this vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis, and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at AIR Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry. Far from being cursed, this is another future classic library LP.

Lucta from Milan finally unleash their debut album ‘Eterna Lotta’ which follows the demo 'Black Magic Punk’ from way back in 2018. The 9 track album takes you by the throat and never lets go. The music rages with a fierce atonal guitar tone and drums that push each track to its limits but it’s the vocals that really make this special. They are passionate and enraged and spat out in Italian. The band mixes the furious years of Italian hardcore from the 80’s, Rudimentary Peni and some classic pogo punk with a sense of paranoia to the overall sound. ‘Eterna Lotta represents the continuous internal and external struggle with life: from social interactions to self expectations and how everyone deals with it in eternal conflict. Lucta is the Latin word for "fight" and Lotta fully embraces every aspect of their lives. The band are outcasts, freaks, queers and punks and will forever fight for rights for those that need a voice and push towards a better future.' Limited to 500 copies on pink vinyl.

• Transparent red LP with HQ download limited to 250 units worldwide.
• Previous collaborations with Pete Namlook for the FAX label and Alio Die for Projekt .
• Soundtrack work featured in trailers for The Hunger Games 1 & 2 and Blade Runner 2049.
Vion is the 29th full-length album to bear the name of Italian soundtrack composer, engineer, and producer Lorenzo Montanà. It is his first solo effort for Oakland-based emotive electronics outpost n5MD.
Vion began as a means for Montanà to experiment with jazz brush drum patterns. The album slowly took shape, and further experimentation gave way to stylistic shifts that, in turn, broadened the album's palette to include ought-era experimental electronica motifs and percolating ambiance. Motion is a constant with nearly all of Montanà's output; details are ever-evolving, rarely static. The brushed drums and leftfield production comple- ment each other and give Vion a sense of lightness juxtaposed with its somewhat melancholic tonality.
With Vion, Montanà has stretched beyond his recent more ambient offerings to include a cross-section of his electronic music output thus far.

Nasti, the people’s favorite, is back with their third album of misanthropic hardcore punk. Sure to delight the senses of the senseless with thudding violence and irritated vitriol. It is the band’s opinion that humans are mostly garbage and this record reflects that sentiment wholeheartedly. “People Problem” is musical equivalent of Jack Nicholson in The Shining methodically/maniacally typing: I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you. I don’t like you

For the last seven years, sound artist, technologist, and electronic musician Moisés Horta Valenzuela (aka Hexorcismos) has been studying artificial intelligence and generative art, wondering how these new technologies might be augmented into his musical process. Born in Tijuana and currently based in Berlin, Hexorcismos has long attempted to break down the permeable borders between musical styles and expressions, using the spaces in between to reinforce his politics and worldview. And on 'MUTALISMX - becoming sonic network', he expands his vision, inviting artists from across the globe to collaborate on work that questions the biases inherent in AI models, offering a collective alternative that could serve as a blueprint for further research.

The majority of AI art at this stage works with "big data", taking ideas from the cultural canon and muddying them with our contemporary reality. But if we accept that mass culture is always politically biased, always swaying towards historical prejudices, then there must be a counter-narrative. Hexorcismos began to develop a bottom-up approach, using "small data" to interrogate his idiosyncratic approach to art; he built a tool called SEMILLA.AI based on neural audio synthesis that could not only mimic his sonic fingerprint but transform it into another. So when he offered the synth to his network of collaborators, he gave them the option of either using only their data or sharing the signatures of each other artist involved in the project, blurring their identities into a mutual voice.

The result is a compilation that unspools with the coherence and fluidity of a single-artist album or adventurous DJ mix, genreless and boundless but unified by a singular message. Hunanese-American artist Kloxii Li for example takes rugged percussion and tense, industrial ambience, smudging her soundscape into a swirling gust of ghostly dissonance. Hexorcismos himself contributes two compositions: the lengthy, hypnotic 'Acaso de veras se vive con raíz en la Tierra', an AI-powered scramble of his pointed tribal guarachero experiments; and 'Interferencias', a collaboration with Mexican club veteran Bryan Dálvez, aka El Irreal Veintiuno that drives intense dancefloor rhythms into a dense haze of frozen drones and radio static. Elsewhere, Berlin-based Lebanese artist and writer Jessika Khazrik dissolves her voice into a mesh of obscured rhythms and dissociated whirrs, blending the organic with the artificial but retaining an overpowering sense of humanity.

Some artists were drawn to the nebulous aspects of the technology, searching for truth in a soup of different sounds, while others, such as KMRU, used Hexorcismos's synthesizer the examine their output. On 'hidden options', the Kenyan sound artist fed his immense catalog into the neural net, bringing out his mannerisms and tendencies in the process. Each track is singular but myriad, prompting both mutual respect and a sonic becoming, a feedback process between the artist and the tool, the individual and the collective. Data sets are made by people, and by engaging directly with musicians, Hexorcismos suggests a new way of utilizing a technology demonized and glorified without careful examination. Each artist owns their AI model, and alongside the album Hexorcismos will release SEMILLA.AI to the public (with custom-made models to start the process), allowing anyone to access this revolutionary technology.

Even the album's artwork reflects the political message, conceptualized by Chilean duo hypereikon, who used AI processes to develop a visual reflection of the technology and its possibilities. Operating outside of academia and capitalist enterprises, MUTUALISMX proposes an alternative future - one without borders that's not beholden to the Western canon, where independent labor can be prioritized and celebrated, and where creativity can truly flourish.

Repress!

For those who know, Bambooman is one of the most sought-after, probing, and distinctive voices in UK electronic music right now.

The Yorkshire-born producer's catalogue builds into an aural mosaic, comprising everything from scrunched up hip-hop to techno deviance, all delivered with an impish sense of individuality.
'Whispers' certainly resonates. It's a lengthy, bucolic work, an album of great breadth but also one of sustained mood – think those hazy summer evenings when shadows stretch out across the road, and autumn lingers around the corner.

This new album has a dusty, organic, and decidedly personal feel, much more at home with Jon Hassel's 'fourth world' aesthetic than the club.

The results are also imbued with an incredible sense of mystery, with Bambooman's productions frequently being shot through with a hallucinatory sense of the uncanny. Entirely self-composed, 'Whispers' utilises "lots of field recordings that I've collected over the last few years, while within the tracks you can find lots of the instruments, percussion, bells and whistles that have been gathered throughout my life."

In certain ways 'Whispers' is entirely autobiographical: Bambooman reaches back to his varied alter egos, to the ambient releases, art commissions, and soundtrack projects that litter his discography. The cover art was even pieced together by Oliver Pitt – of Glasgow group Golden Teacher – who was an early ally in the producer's sonic quest.

Stylistically 'Whispers' veers from avant hip-hop of Flying Lotus to the theoried composition of Terry Riley, from the future-forward percussive energy of Battles to the ever-evolving electronics of Mark Pritchard. It's a record marks by a fiercely independent spirit, but also by a close-knit cast of collaborators.

King Kashmere takes a starring turn, following the pair's collision on the recent 'SUPERGOD' EP.

Each vocal is recorded, chopped up and then spliced across the album, with Elsa Hewitt also making a number of appearances and re-appearances.
credits

Following on from recent works for 12k, The Trilogy Tapes, and Important, Far More Decentralized is a new collection of subtle, enchanting pieces from Tokyo-based sound and visual artist Akhira Sano. Working with electronic, instrumental, and concrete sounds, he crafts immersive assemblages of long overlapping tones and blurred resonance, cut through with textural crunch and hiss. The resonant bell-like tones of opener ‘Kouai’ invite the listener in, calling up the warm sound palette of ambient classics like Hiroshi Yoshimura’s Music for Nine Postcards, but leaving any sense of compositional anchor behind for a free-floating harmonic drift. Woven through this seductive tonal cloud is a wavering stream of white noise and tactile pops, its textural grit threatening to derail the calmly reflective pool of pitched sounds, but never quite doing so. Each of these seven pieces occupies a similarly ruminative harmonic space while possessing its own identity. On ‘Neow’, lush tonal swells form around fragmented samples, touching on the techniques of early 2000s glitch artists like Ekkehard Ehlers. ‘Orbv’ is particularly subtle in its combination of rippling back-masked tonal wash, almost subliminal suggestions of field recordings, and distant traces of raw electronic interference, as if a Toshimaru Nakamura recording is playing through an open window across the road. ‘Margin’ weaves together a skein of wistful slow-motion melodies while untraceable, resonant clinks and ambiguous static washes rise gradually to the surface. In comparison to his recent Phase Contrast for Recollection on 12k, recognisable instrumental sounds are a rarity here, yet a hand-played feeling is present throughout. On ‘Teens’, filtered electric guitar tones reminiscent of the melancholic miniatures of Andrew Chalk float over aqueous burbles, bringing the album to a magisterial close. In the crowded field of contemporary electronic music tending toward ambience, Sano is a distinctive voice. Like his elegant abstract paintings, here seemingly static surfaces of unhurried calm reveal rich interior worlds of subtle activity and gentle chaos. Where much contemporary ambient music aims for an almost stifling cleanliness of tone, Sano breathes life into Far More Decentralized through the acceptance of imperfection, accident, and rough edges. As the artist himself says, ‘In a world where everything can be made perfectly, I think it’s a beautiful and primal act to touch the fragile and imperfect’