A dream come true for A Colourful Storm to be releasing an early gem by Tenniscoats, a duo whose DIY spirit, boundless creativity and lust for life and collaboration has left an indelible mark. From self-releasing albums and tapes on their own Majikick imprint to meeting kindred spirits The Pastels, Bill Wells and Jad Fair in between outings for Morr Music, Chapter and Häpna, to name but a few, Tenniscoats have embodied an understated determination and optimism for over two decades.
"A foghorn melodica, voice, fractions, fragments, nothing and everything all at once. We Are Everyone opens out slowly, a little eerily, magic tumbles into play in well-measured rations. Meanwhile, on the cover, Saya and Ueno's heads seem to merge into the sky as if living amongst the wisdom of the clouds. Or maybe somewhere between sleep and reality, like Ueno's description of Tenniscoats' music. We Are Everyone is one of those records where you almost feel engulfed in its making - you feel like you're in the room with Tenniscoats as they push themselves to the limit, trying to make the very best record they can." - Stephen Pastel
2024 feiern die Broilers ihren runden Geburtstag: 1994 - 2024, 30 Jahre Broilers. 30 gemeinsame Jahre bedeuten Wachsen und Zusammenwachsen. Auch miteinander streiten und zusammen streiten – für die gute Sache. Zusammen feiern und zusammenstehen, in den Besten aller Zeiten und den Schlechtesten aller Zeiten. Und weil es für jede gute Geburtstagsparty auch die passende Musik geben muss, hat die Band zum ersten Mal alle ihre Hits und Lieblingslieder auf einem Album versammelt. Und nicht nur das, die Broilers machen sich selbst ein Geschenk: Zehn der 22 enthaltenen Songs, nämlich alle, die vor 2011 eingespielt wurden, haben sie noch einmal komplett neu aufgenommen. So erstrahlen legendäre Broilers-Klassiker in zeitgemäßem Glanz, ohne ihre Wurzeln zu verleugnen. Die Broilers sind ein Phänomen: Seit über einem Jahrzehnt gehören sie konstant zu den erfolgreichsten Rockbands im deutschsprachigen Raum. Millionen verkaufter Konzertkarten, Nummer- 1-Charts-Platzierungen, Edelmetallauszeichnungen in Folge, kaum ein Superlativ, den die Gruppe sich noch nicht zu eigen gemacht hätte. Ein paar Schulfreunde aus den Vierteln am Stadtrand von Düsseldorf gründeten 1994 eine Band, die sich am ruppigen Sound einer Streetpunk-Variante orientierte, der schon Anfang der 80er-Jahre unter der Bezeichnung „Oi!“ auf der britischen Insel das Licht der Welt erblickte. Die bedingungslose Liebe, die ihnen bis heute von vielen ihrer Anhängerschaft entgegengebracht wird, hat ihren Ursprung in dieser Zeit. Neben den Liedern, mit denen sie über die Jahre ihren Hörern stets aufs Neue aus dem Herzen sprachen, führte aber auch die Kombination der individuellen Charaktere der einzelnen Musiker an die Spitze: Wie fünf Superhelden aus einer Comicserie bündeln sie als Team ihre Kräfte, begeistern so die Fans und können aus dieser Unterschiedlichkeit Kraft schöpfen und spenden. Die Broilers haben keine Angst vor Pathos, Emotionen und Kontrasten: In ihrer Musik sind wuchtige Bläsersätze, Offbeats, da ist Soul und Rocksteady, da sind Flirts mit Power-Pop und Kitsch und das alles, als wäre es das Logischste und Normalste auf der Welt. Diese eklektische Mischung trauen sich nicht viele. Die Broilers wollen es sich anders gar nicht mehr vorstellen. »Jolly Good Fellas – Best of Broilers 1994 - 2024« legt davon eindrucksvoll Zeugnis ab!
Tiki for the Atomic Age feels like a mid-century transmission intercepted from a parallel timeline—one where hi-fi futurism, Polynesian fantasy, and postwar optimism never lost their sense of wonder. Kava Kon isn’t recreating exotica so much as reviving its original promise: escape, elegance, and possibility, rendered in warm, widescreen stereo.
Built on shimmering vibraphones, reverb-drenched guitars, analog organs, and ritual-leaning percussion, these tracks move at an unhurried pace. This is oceanic music—designed for dim lights, glowing glassware, and time stretched just enough to breathe. The lineage is clear: lounge exotica, bachelor-pad modernism, space-age pop. But this isn’t pastiche or museum work. It’s retro-futurism with intention, imagined from the future looking back.
The “Atomic Age” isn’t just aesthetic shorthand. It speaks to contrast—leisure in the shadow of anxiety, beauty alongside uncertainty, fantasy as a necessary technology. Kava Kon understands that tiki was never about geography; it was about psychology. A constructed elsewhere. A permission slip to slow down.
Pressed on vinyl, Tiki for the Atomic Age comes fully alive: tactile, immersive, and meant to be lived with. For listeners drawn to mid-century dreamscapes and modern exotica that honors the past without freezing it, this is an invitation—step sideways out of the present and into something more elegant.
Larry June has built a career on making hard work look effortless, and his album Who Coppin’ stands as a masterclass in smooth, lifestyle-driven West Coast hip-hop. The album delivers a high-grade mix of Bay Area luxury, entrepreneurial motivation, and unbothered charismatic flows. Spanning a laid-back audio palette designed for early-morning juice runs and late-night freeway cruises alike, Uncle Larry balances the discipline of a hustle-first mindset with warm, sun-drenched production anchored by crisp organic instrumentation and heavy-knocking bass.
The album features a tightly curated roster of collaborators who align seamlessly with Larry's signature aesthetic. Spoken-word encouragement from Wallo267 sets an intentional tone on the opener "Go Outside Intro," framing the record around execution and focus. Soulful contributions from Jhené Aiko on "California Dream" and Musiq Soulchild on "Pretty Green Eyes" provide lush R&B textures, while NorCal legend B-Legit and longtime partner DJ.Fresh reinforce June’s deep West Coast roots. Meanwhile, Swizz Beatz injects high-energy bounce into "Flex," offering a vibrant contrast to Larry’s understated, cool-headed cadence.
Behind the boards, top-tier producers like Cardo, Teeko, Beat Butcha, Jay Versace, and June Santana craft a nostalgic yet modern backdrop filled with warm sample flips, smooth G-funk synthesizers, and relaxed soul grooves. The project builds to an emotionally grounded conclusion on "God Got Us (Ain't Too Many)," where June strips away the flexes to offer direct encouragement to his audience, proving once again that consistency, self-belief, and steady progress remain the ultimate luxuries.
The premise of this compilation is simple: music we’d like to hear at the airport.
The idea came after learning that Honolulu’s international airport has been playing AI-generated music over its speakers since November 2025. First reported by Civil Beat, the news has caused frustration and disappointment among residents and visitors, as well as within the local music community.
Everyone knows Hawaii is one of the most musically rich regions in the world — why then is the airport using AI music? 'Music For The Airport' is our response.
Located in the middle of the Pacific at the outskirts of one the most remote cities on the planet, Honolulu’s Daniel K. Inouye International Airport (HNL) is for most people the first place they encounter when they arrive in Hawaii. Warm sun, tropical tradewinds, playful palm trees and majestic mountains welcome every traveler, as do the sounds of birds, familiar music from Hawaiian artists like Aunty Genoa Keawe and Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, and—at least for now—seventeen “island-themed” AI-generated songs.
In late 1977, while sitting in Germany’s Cologne Bonn Airport on a Sunday morning, Brian Eno noticed how terribly uncomfortable he felt hearing the airport’s “muzak” overhead. For a harried, hurried place like the airport where travelers scramble to their gates, stand in long border control lines, and wait impatiently for their luggage at the carousels, music can create more anxiety than calm. Asking himself, "What should we be hearing here?", Eno soon created ‘Ambient 1: Music For Airports’, a sonic remedy aimed at reducing nervousness in public spaces.
When we heard the news that HNL airport is playing AI-generated “muzak”, we were immediately reminded of Eno’s genre-defying 1978 album. And we were similarly inspired to react. But how? Recreating an ambient masterpiece wasn’t in our wheelhouse. We started digging through our catalog of licensed music which we haven’t yet re-released. We quickly realized this was our chance to highlight some of favorite songs from the so-called CD era: the 1990s and 2000s (with a few exceptions). In less than 20 minutes, we pulled 17 original songs recorded by local artists between 1984 and 2017.
The speed at which this project came together surprised us; reactionary gut instinct often produces swift and lasting results. Ironically, our new compilation likely took less time than it did for the state Department of Transportation to commission its AI songs in question. But even though ‘Music for the Airport’ came together in less than one week, the truth is that this collection of 17 songs is the result of years of hard work, trust, sacrifice, patience, and understanding. Building relationships with and licensing music from artists doesn’t happen overnight, but more importantly: these songs are the result of people pouring their hearts and souls into something they believe in. This music wouldn’t exist today without the artists and their loved ones who supported them along the way.
As of this writing, the DOT states its intention in creating AI-generated songs is to “highlight different aspects of the islands, aviation and the airport” and that “no state funds were used to produce them”. Okay, but at what cost? Technology disrupting the music industry isn’t news to anyone. AI music in public spaces are cost-saving measures, since its users (airports, for example) don’t have to pay the licensing fees typically required, which can be a worthwhile source of revenue for artists. But what happens when a place like HNL airport, which hosts more than 21 million passengers annually, uses music created by machines instead of people to represent Hawaii? The identity of a place beings to erode, diluted by a language learning model’s conceptual summary of what a people and its culture sounds like. To echo Brian Eno: what should we be hearing here? In other words: what should the music of Hawaii sound like?
We believe in the power of music, especially when it comes from the soul. We believe in supporting artists, especially as AI disrupts our lives. We believe that Hawaii must be represented authentically, especially when it comes to song. And of course we believe in vinyl, especially since it was a record from 1978 (Mackey Feary Band’s debut LP) that inspired Aloha Got Soul’s origins in 2010.
We hope you find as much joy in this compilation as we have. Perhaps it’ll soundtrack your next journey to Hawaii. At the very least, we hope some people take a moment to hear these sounds: in your headphones for now‚ maybe someday overhead at the airport in Honolulu.
There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.
Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.
At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along
There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.
Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.
At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along
Mit"Lach doch mal" legen Bärchen und die Milchbubis ihr zweites Studioalbum seit ihrer viel beachteten Rückkehr vor. Die Band, die bereits Anfang der 1980er-Jahre mit ihrer eigenwilligen Mischung aus Punk, Pop und scharfem Humor Kultstatus erlangte, knüpft dabei an ihre Stärken an und präsentiert zwölf neue Songs voller Energie, Haltung und Alltagsbeobachtungen. Zwischen humorvollen Seitenhieben, gesellschaftspolitischen Themen und persönlichen Geschichten entstehen Stücke, die gleichermaßen wütend, nachdenklich und verspielt wirken. Produziert von Tobias Levin (u.a. Tocotronic, Ja, Panik, Rocko Schamoni), verbindet das Album den charakteristischen Charme der Band mit einer zeitgemäßen Perspektive. Gastbeiträge von Bela B, Stefanie Schrank und den Feigen Flittchen unterstreichen die kreative Offenheit dieser Veröffentlichung. Lach doch mal zeigt eine Band, die auch Jahrzehnte nach ihrer Gründung unverwechselbar geblieben ist.
Mit"Lach doch mal" legen Bärchen und die Milchbubis ihr zweites Studioalbum seit ihrer viel beachteten Rückkehr vor. Die Band, die bereits Anfang der 1980er-Jahre mit ihrer eigenwilligen Mischung aus Punk, Pop und scharfem Humor Kultstatus erlangte, knüpft dabei an ihre Stärken an und präsentiert zwölf neue Songs voller Energie, Haltung und Alltagsbeobachtungen. Zwischen humorvollen Seitenhieben, gesellschaftspolitischen Themen und persönlichen Geschichten entstehen Stücke, die gleichermaßen wütend, nachdenklich und verspielt wirken. Produziert von Tobias Levin (u.a. Tocotronic, Ja, Panik, Rocko Schamoni), verbindet das Album den charakteristischen Charme der Band mit einer zeitgemäßen Perspektive. Gastbeiträge von Bela B, Stefanie Schrank und den Feigen Flittchen unterstreichen die kreative Offenheit dieser Veröffentlichung. Lach doch mal zeigt eine Band, die auch Jahrzehnte nach ihrer Gründung unverwechselbar geblieben ist.
R.M.F.C. sound like? Let’s stay with the overused descriptors – I think R.M.F.C. is rock music band, more specifically a post-punk band. Indulge me. If you could say anything about post punk it means post-Wire, who were past punk before punk had an opportunity to codify and become everything brilliant and stupid that we’ve spent 40 years unpacking. Wire’s opening Pink Flag jab – Chairs Missing straight – and 154 hook knockout has haunted the mixing desks of ambitious post-punk bands since, and every major city in the western world has at least one Pink Flag band, one Chairs Missing band, one 154 band. Few bands manage to sound like all 3 records, but R.M.F.C. are a Rock Music Fan Club...
Anyone paying attention to underground Australian guitar overdose would relate: the R.M.F.C. Club Hits LP has been the culmination of five years of work, patience and discipline. If you’ve heard these songs live at any of their shows over the past couple of years you’ll understand – the wait is over and the result is exhilarating.
‘Bands like Devo, The Fall, and The Birthday Party have set the way for this type of post-punk rock (all in their own way). Surely, also, the rock scenes of the past fifteen years in Australia have also been influential. Thinking of bands like Royal Headache, Dick Diver, and Eddy Current Suppression Ring, there’s even been a fairly recent tradition of expanding styles of rock and roll (let alone the bigger, famous rock-centered acts). The Sydney based R.M.F.C., and the scene (or friend circle) from which it’s emerging, is carrying a torch of rock music which has the potential of a wider appeal.’ - POST-TRASH
Rocksteady Disco comes through with more tasteful and timeless edits on this fourth volume of its series which focuses on sounds from Detroit. Gino steps up on the A-side with the leggy grooves and funky bassline soft 'Funk Beyond' then 'Sunshine Ramp' pairs a classic vocal sample with a bubbly, percolating groove full of fun. On the flip, things get more textured and expressive with the busy jazz horns of DJ Righteous's '6 Minutes Of NRG' then 'Never Forget' brings heavyweight drum-first funk with warm organ chords and a busy mix of bass and melodies under the soaring vocals. Scorching stuff.
The duo Jolie Gentiane come to us straight from a wild and unpredictable mountain peak, a perched place far from civilization, where the beauty and cruelty of mother nature reign but harmonize the elements. They walk the high, steep paths, looking down on the chaotic and industrial world. This increasingly smoky world, which, from the top of the mountains, looks metamorphosing dangeroulsy, but would only need a few changes to make it less crazy. Or perhaps infinitely more so. Jolie Gentiane is a skilful concoction of sound and daring. Unclassifiable, impalpable, the contemporary embracing the tradition and the acoustic swinging with the electronics. Autotuned/vocoderized vocals, 4th world, kitsch sax, psychedelic arpeggios, acoustic guitar, techno, it's all there: the story told by Jolie Gentiane on this album is rich and complete. Nature, love, celebration, struggle, work. Yes, even work. Because the energy deployed to create this album was surreal, patient, extremely methodical, and the abnegation of the protagonists has been vertiginous: the cliff of the highest peak is finally climbed. This album is like an ode to the earth, to the respect we owe it, an ode also to music in its purest essence, that which does not confine itself to borders, but shout for federation, dance and uprising.
OFF / GRID makes a captivating debut on Life In Patterns with his 'Sonic Spectrum' EP. Previously recognized as an underground gem in the techno scene due to his acclaimed, self-released EP, 'Time To Shine,' the Hamburg-based producer has garnered significant attention in 2023 with EP releases on labels like Planet Rhythm, Uncage, DifferentSound, and Entourage Concept.
On LIP009, he presents four meticulously crafted vinyl tracks and a digital bonus track, each a testament to his remarkable talent for creating hard-hitting, euphoric DJ tools. His music is distinguished by cutting stabs, hypnotic acid lines, and a distinct dub influence, all seamlessly woven together with powerful drum sounds.
Jus-Ed's Underground Quality label has been living up to its title for more than 20 years now. The brief is simple - deep, smoky house music with soul, and it keeps coming at a steady rate from a blend of newer names and more established stars. Next up this late summer is a three-part remix package that revisits a gorgeous original by Nathalie Capello and Rose Lonegran. TrackHeadz kicks off with a nice swaying and dubby rework that is blissed out and spine-tingling, while Melchior Sultana taps into a melodic and Mediterranean sound perfect for sunset. DJRYDER's closer is a more percussive and prickly affair and Patrice Scott locks you into a zoned-out, late-night roller. Top-notch deep house.
The third and final volume of remixes of 'Come Into My Life' by Nathalie Capello and Rose Lonegran is yet another doozy for lovers of emotive, meaningful deep house. Another bunch of heavyweights step up, starting with Mystic Bill who teases out a steamy-hot lead and builds a vibe around it. UK mainstay Jimpster plays with a dubby and bubbly low end, while Move D finds jazz-funk in the squelchy bass. Last of all, Underground Quality head DJ Jus-Ed steps up with his remix and explores more dusty textures, a slightly unsettling synth vibe and roomy, hypnotic grooves for late-night dancing.
NNHMN — DARKLINGS: a lethal club edge of dark electronic, pounding EBM and gothic synths that turn floors into battlegrounds. Headliners at Ombra, Grauzone, Extramuralhas, Subkult, Infest and Unterwelt Berlin.
Opera of Lust & the Art of Sorrow II — an intoxicating, cinematic opera of longing and loss: razor‑sharp arpeggios, cavernous bass, hypnotic rhythms and ghostly vocals—sensual, melancholic and brutally dancefloor‑proven.
The sun sat high above the desert outside Joshua Tree on October 17, 2024, baking the rocks and shrubbery outside the Farrington Observatory as a small group of invited guests ventured up a steep path towards the telescope. Kyle Simon, the artist and printmaker who founded the Observatory, was standing outside the print studio sat below the towering cylindrical building, greeting friends alongside his wife Sarah and lifelong friend Brian Weitz, the musician widely known as Geologist of Animal Collective. Simon and Weitz had spent the previous day testing and retesting a system that would transform the light of the oncoming full moon captured by the gigantic telescope into a signal that would modulate the control voltage of Weitz’s modular synthesizer. As the sun dipped below the horizon line, the audience gathered on a small wooden patio surrounded by speakers while Weitz readied himself behind the array of patches and knobs. Simon addressed the group, presenting the history of The Sirens, the sonic exploration of the night sky’s mystical and scientific significance about to unfold.
The music conjured under the Hunter’s Moon that night is now documented on this first official release of The Sirens, which was conceived by Simon and Weitz as a recurring performance piece and sound installation. Over a decade ago, Simon began immersing himself in literature on humanity’s sonic relationship to the celestial realm, including Homer’s Odyssey, Plato’s “Spindle of Necessity, ” Kepler’s Harmonices Mundi, and the field of astroseismology. He fitted homemade telescopes with photodiodes and optical sensors to make the images audible, finding latent patterns in the noisy sonic signals he began receiving from the stars. With Weitz, the process expanded as the signal was routed through an analog amplifier and set to modulate the pitch, filter, and other elements of his synthesizer. Together they developed a system of improvisation, with Simon adjusting the telescope to change the intensity of the light based on its relationship with the moon’s position (imagine a theremin player moving their hands in subtle, meaningful motion), and Weitz responding to that input in real time: bending it, amplifying it, or letting it stand on its own. The duo debuted the piece at the Integretron in Joshua Tree in 2018, providing a crucial proof of concept for the performance at Farrington featured here.
The first thing the listener hears on The Sirens is the opening of Farrington Observatory, the cranking of motor and metal. As the lens of the telescope is exposed to the evening air, a wavering drone emerges from the synthesizer, flickering at the margins, the tuning of the oscillators adjusting to the rapidly cooling desert air. The piece progresses and the drone becomes a luminous, spherical constant, bathing the listener in pure tone as Weitz draws out harmonically ambiguous melodies that spiral upwards. Electronics crackle and convulse, coalescing into dense dissonance before widening out into an open octave. Just as the moon orbits the Earth and the stars shift as the planet rotates, so each sonic element appears in flux, interrelationships slowly forming and falling away. Divided into two parts, The Sirens flows as a continuous conversation between the artists and the starlight completing its thousand-year journey across the galaxy.
The Sirens belongs primarily to a lineage beyond music: of sea captains navigating by looking skyward, of astrophysicists studying the formation of the Milky Way, of the modern myths of werewolves, of the stories embedded in constellations. As Simon writes in the album’s extensive liner notes, “These stories and explorations reveal a collective yearning to become conscious of our connection to the universe, our deep-seated desire to understand how we fit into it all.” This music underscores the history of the night sky as the place where poetry and science find common ground, where exploration hinges on the imagination. Driven by curiosity and ingenuity, Weitz and Simon look up and wonder.
Emerging from the dark Olympic forests with a new album and a full bag of chanterelles, fish narc's Ben Funkhouser has shifted the damp melancholy characteristic of his earlier work towards the sun. Uncle is at once a cry of resignation ("say uncle!") and a declaration of seniority, a set of observations steeped in the blues of youth, delivered with Westerbergian inclination. Recorded and produced by Alex Farrar, the album's 11 tracks bear the hallmarks of his style: textured rock `n' roll somehow both raw and polished. Neither waxing pathetic nor sugarcoating, fish narc and the band are at peak form on Uncle, strumming out the complexities of aging with the conviction of a group that's fully found its footing in well-crafted rock and powerpop. Uncle KLP313, is a culmination of the punk rock musical work fish narc has done in his native Northwest environs. Says Funkhouser, "I feel like Uncle is the best record I've ever made. The songs grew without changing, the textures are spot on, and Alex [Farrar] and I saw eye to eye about almost everything. The album represents what I want for my band and songwriting and is the touchstone on which all my future work will be based." fish narc is a rocker and producer from the Pacific Northwest, recently relocated to Los Angeles. As a member of GothBoiClique, his innovative guitar playing became iconic of the group and helped shape the style of the movement that they pioneered. As a songwriter, fish narc leans more on influences from SST, K and the diy scene he grew up in. Catch him with a full band for the true intended experience. Previous records include WiLDFiRE in 2020, Camouflage in 2022, fruiting body [KLP295] in 2023 and frog song [KLP298] in 2025. This autumn fish narc will tour the United States with his punk horde.
Once upoun a time Fat Mike came up with the idea of calling up 101 of the best old and new punk rock band around, have them each record a 30-second long song, then put all the tracks out on one record to make the best punk compilation ever. And guess what, the dream came true. The 101 most famous punk rock bands around doing each a 30 seconds long song Back in print for the first time in ten years! Pressed to Lime Vinyl Features super rare songs (recorded exclusively for this compilation) by Green Day, The Offspring, Blink- 182, Pennywise, Rancid, Less Than Jake, The Vandals, Bad Religion, and more
Kvrk makes a debut on Distant Gaze with Synthetic Memories, a four-track EP exploring shadowy electronics where organic textures and synthetic forms constantly blur into one another.
Opening with Pulsewidth, the EP begins as a slow burn – a restrained piece of synthwave shaped by drifting ambience, hypnotic sequences and a steady sense of tension.
The pace gradually lifts with Void Caller and title track Synthetic Memory, pushing deeper into prog sound. Straight, driving rhythms form the backbone, occasionally dissolving into broken-beat passages, while warped synths and psychedelic details keep everything in constant motion.
Beneath the electronic framework runs something more primal: forest-like soundscapes, mystic undertones and subtly shamanic motifs give the music an earthy, ritualistic dimension.
Closing the release, Blu:sh reworks Void Caller through his signature deep and trippy approach, stretching the original into a spacious late-night interpretation with a submerged, dreamlike pull.
