Suche:static sense

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’