After a barnstorming live reunion which saw them play to ecstatic audiences across Europe throughout 2017, Britain's giants of electronic music Orbital are back, with new music and an upgrade of the legendary live show that transformed festivals across the world.
First single Tiny Foldable Cities opened the account, an intricate piece of electro-hypnotica, takes their signature sound forward into a new and fascinating phase, heralding their first new album in five years, Monsters Exist.
Throughout 2018 they play a string of high-profile festival dates and headline shows across Europe, featuring new material alongside classics like 'Chime', 'Belfast' and 'Impact'.
This surge of creativity shows how reunited brothers Paul and Phil Hartnoll have rebuilt one of electronic music's best-loved partnerships after Orbital's surprisingly bitter break-up in 2012. They'd been onstage with Stephen Hawking at the Paralympics, in front of the whole world. They'd remixed Madonna. They'd played Glastonbury many times and travelled the world yet were driven apart by music's strange and infamous brother-vs-brother dynamic. But now the brothers have a pact: whatever happens, Orbital does not stop. They've learned to talk and accept each other. As Paul says, "If we were both the same, then it wouldn't be Orbital."
quête:strange u
After a string of acclaimed EPs on Heist, Dirt Crew and Quartet Series, Amsterdam's Nachtbraker presents 'When You Find a Stranger in the Alps', his first longplayer on his own Quartet Series imprint. The good-humoured Dutchman - tongue always firmly in cheek - has always refused to stick to the 'sound du jour' and the industry's conventions, following his own path instead, continually willing to step out of his comfort zone. 'When You Find a Stranger in the Alps', a nod to his favourite Coen Brothers' movie, is testament to Nachtbraker's studio prowess and drive to explore new sonic pastures and styles. The album consists of thirteen tracks, made over the course of 2,5 years in his studio at Volkshotel Amsterdam. Constantly shifting through different settings and moods, the album feels like a deep dream, with vivid details, blurry edges and a warped sense of time. The word 'stranger' in the title references to this dream state in which you sometimes can be a stranger to yourself. Album opener 'The Dream Sequence' sets the mood with a lo-slung hip-house groove that relies heavily on field recordings, like the sound of one of the capital's trams. 'Flambo', a delectable slice of up-tempo French filtered house, is aimed straight at the dance floor. Nachtbraker dims the lights on 'NSFW', cleverly manipulating samples from adult oriented flicks, and turns in a hilarious skit with 'LOL'. Flip over for 'Randy', a quintessential Nac
An Invitation To Disappear is the debut LP by British electronic musician Inland aka Ed Davenport - and his first release for A-TON. Based on his soundtrack for a video installation by conceptual artist Julian Charrière, Davenport has recast the material and field recordings into eight tracks of rhythmically intricate electronics and spectral, ambient techno, inspired by Charrière's visually striking, 76-minute tracking shot through a palm plantation toward a totemic soundsystem on full blast.
Both the album and original soundtrack were created in response to the 200th anniversary of the eruption of Indonesia's Tambora volcano in 1815, which plunged the world into darkness and caused a series of extreme weather conditions. At the time, the natural climate change crisis resulted in numerous global famines and is known throughout the northern hemisphere as 'The Year Without Summer', with global communities forced to adapt to sudden radical changes in temperature and weather.
An Invitation To Disappear offers a contemporary parallel, leading viewers - and listeners - down a seemingly endless direct path of gridded palms from dawn to dusk; a bio-commercial monoculture where ancient jungle once flourished. Light flickers between rows of fruit-laden trees and a distant fire burns in the undergrowth where the border between natural image and computer simulation breaks down. At the same time, formerly incoherent rumblings of sub-frequencies begin to transform into the contours of rhythm. This is reflected sonically in eight perspectives on the lush, synthetic jungle, made of myriad buzzing fauna, morphing melody and colossal bassweight. All paths lead toward an apocalyptic dancefloor, though speeds vary widely; rhythms dissolve from straight to broken, synth tempos operate by their own internal clocks (and logic). Juxtaposing industrial agriculture with rave culture, the album explores the industrialization and refinement of nature, and the new strange forms emerging from the synthetic grids of both.
As Inland, Davenport has previously contributed soundtracks to other installations by the Swiss-born Charrière, whose artistic practice focuses on bridging environmental science and cultural history, often taking place in remote geophysical locations, including ice fields, volcanos and radioactive sites.
Julian Charrière is a French-Swiss artist based in Berlin. A former student of Olafur Eliasson at the Institut für Raumexperimente, Charrière's art explores post-romantic constructions of nature, staging tensions between deep or geological timescales and those relating to mankind. His work has previously been shown across the globe, including at the main exhibition of the Venice Biennale in 2017, a solo show at Kunsthalle Mainz this past Spring and an upcoming solo show at the Berlinische Galerie opening September 26.
Inland (real name Ed Davenport) is a British producer, DJ and founder of Counterchange Records based in Berlin. Known for his detailed and explorative house and techno releases on his own label, Infrastructure, Naïf and more, Davenport has recently gravitated toward the contemporary art world, finding inspiration in the cross-pollination between Berlin's art and music scenes. Previous sound design collaborations with Charrière have been exhibited in institutions such as the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Lausanne in 2014 and Thyssen- Bornemisza Contemporary in Vienna in 2017.
The gallery version of An Invitation To Disappear premiered this past April at the Kunsthalle Mainz and will be on display at the Berlinische Galerie as part of Charrière's solo exhibition As We Used to Float, opening September 26, 2018. The LP will premier live together with the video installation during a special presentation in Berghain the same day for Berlin Art Week.
Matthew Dear's Black City Can't Be Found On Any Map. It's A Composite, An Imaginary Metropolis Peopled By Desperate Cases, Lovelorn Souls, And Amoral Motives. Like Most Literary Gothams, Black City Is A Place To Love And Hate, As Seedy As A Nightclub's Back Room And As Seductive As The Promise Of Power. Matthew Dear, The Musician, May Live In New York City, But The Matthew Dear Of Black City Inhabits A Sound-world Unlike Any Other: A Monument To The Shadowy Side Of Urban Life That Bumps And Creaks, Shudders And Wakes Up Screaming In The Middle Of The Night. Black City Is Matthew Dear's Third Album On Ghostly International, And It's His Darkest And Most Engrossing Work To Date.
From The rst Notes Of Album Opener "honey", It's Clear That The Love-obsessed Matthew Dear Of 2007's Asa Breed Has Given Way To A More Existentially Paranoid Entity, As Creeping Tempos Dominate, Cavernous Atmospherics Envelop The Listener, And Strange Distortions Crackle On The Horizon. In Black City, Nothing Is At It Seems: Leadoff Single "little People (black City)" Is A Nine-and-a-half Minute Disco odyssey, subverting its gleaming electronic lead with eerily giddy backing vocals and cryptic, ominous lyrics ("a frozen wasted heart / has died", "love me like a clown"); "You Put a Smell on Me" is a sordid sex romp set to hysterically chattering percussion and a serrated synth line that will set your teeth on edge; "More Surgery" at rst recalls the barely-there Krautrock of Harmonia in its burbling minimalism, until Dear's chanted chorus of "Alter genetics / to make my body glow / I need more surgery / there's so much more to know" sends the track hurtling into a dystopian future.
And yet, for all the foreboding moods on Black City, it's the album's sweeter moments that illustrate Matthew Dear's growing maturity as a songwriter. "Slowdance" is a futuristic lullaby in which Dear articulates a lover's helplessness ("I can't be the one to tell you everything's wrong") over breathy, Arthur Russell-esque cello swishes; the album-closing "Gem" is an achingly simple, reverb-drenched piano ballad that ends with a long, slow fade. Even in Matthew Dear's Black City, there is hope.
Honey Soundsystem met October (aka Jules) while on a one-night affair in Bristol in which he immediately dragged us from an artist dinner to the saddest Bear bar in the UK. After a few pints, vetting his taste for drag, boys, and girls that make love to boys who make love to boys, Jules confessed he has always wanted to release on HNYTRX. And so the hazing began, a year of torturing yet another sexy-stranger into refreshing, reminding, and refining a flurry of demos into the army of skeleton soldiers you now have in possession. Money drops, midnight withdrawals, 4 crisp singles: this is the Pay Day EP — gonna make that dance-floor 'cha-ching' bitch!
A lot of people hate October so... that is why we are releasing this record in September. But seriously though, upon cracking open this 4 track EP you might wish you had saved the vacuum seal just a couple days longer, keeping these ghosts contained until the month where screaming winds strip trees nude
The fourth release of Another Earth, a small Dutch vinyl only label with limited 300 pressings, has finally arrived. The A side is proper techno created by Dave Simon. A1 In Acid We Trust is a peak time acid techno track and A2 Path of Ability has a warm Detroit feel. The B side by Anders Ilar together with John H is more obscure. Deep weird acid techno that seems to come from another planet. Uncertain Principle feels like its exploring the surface of a strange planet with it's weird soundscapes and Field of Vision is a deep obscure acid track with a proper groove. Both tracks have a great analog feel to them.
SEPT 2016. The Moog Sound Lab's first trip out for a live session at Café Oto's project & café rooms. Jimi Tenor, finnish futurist, shako & Warp Records confederate, jazzed, funked, far-ra'd out. Tony Allen - original drummer to Fela Kuti - Godfather of the Afro-Beat.
These two titans of the beat strange -fed & watered through the mighty Moog Sound Lab via a prototype future sound
systems drum trigger unit built & operated by UK moog minder engineer Mr Finlay Shakespeare. New sound universes emerge, collide.
Explosions & implosions make sonic debris. Cosmic dancers prepare to be run ragged by a feral 'tronic funk that brings to mind early 'D.A.F.
Boredom, anxiety, pain killers and frustration make a heady mix for both reflection and action. For three weeks I stared out of the window of the tower block onto the tall brick towers of the old asylum chimneys. The past was a strange land suddenly out of reach, the present confusing and claustrophobic, the future something I could only visualise and idolise.
From the balmy Autumn day of my release a light was switched on, buzzing urgently like a neon street light on my path. Life took on new vigour and meaning. Pleasures starkly illuminated, annoyances inconsequential. Old work was re-examined and appreciated. Machines were treasured and connected. My basement filled with ever greater warmth and excitement.
The toy towns of our inner minds are constructed of a million tiny building blocks of experience. But there's a freedom that comes from realising what might have been. Peace in reflection, untethered from the everyday distraction and I take pleasure in the hum drum. Unhampered by trends, untethered to a scene, stripped back to essential carnal influences and desires. Who are we but the sum of our experience.
'Everything Is Quite Now' meanders through a reimagined landscape of personal history, releasing musical fragments to dri* amongst soaring treetops, hollowed lakes and labyrinthine concrete structures, liberated from genre and form - alive at last. In these great expanses, light and dark are presented not as polar opposites, but as a limitless, unified whole.
References to EBM and industrial techno manifest within the sporadic percussive framework whilst gauzy ambient backdrops form an entire world of their own, constructed from the gentle hiss of a looping tape, the booming caverns of a muffled kick, the vivid distortions of a crystalline synth. In the depths of a misty forest, warmth permeates, absorbing inside it all of the darkness, pain, romance and beauty from before.
Prequel Tapes is a work of deep synthesis. Fragments of melody and memory orchestrated into densely layered tapestries; a deeply emotional study on a life characterised by a shi*ing relationship to electronics. The pieces serve as a chronology of desire and reflection, reconciling a nascent passion for industrial music with a history in the club. Oscillating between utopian to claustrophobic, the evolving synth work, deep techno atmosphere and traces of clangorous energy of early European ambient and industrial tell a distinctly German tale, forged between the forest and the autobahn.
Everything is quite now. What else can it be.
- A1: Off To See The Hangman, Part I
- A2: Sometimes There's Blood
- A3: Idumea
- A4: Off To See The Hangman, Part Ii
- A5: Face Down Strut
- A6: Laika's Song
- A7: Oh, Command Me Lord!
- B1: Sweep It Up
- B2: Requiem For John Fahey
- B3: Dance Of The Everlasting Faint
- B4: Bleeding Finger Blues
- B5: Sack 'Em Up, Parts I And Ii
- B6: It Was All Sackcloth And Ashes
Tompkins Square present the debut full-length by Welsh multi-instrumentalist, Gwenifer Raymond. Hailing from Cardiff and now residing in Brighton in the South of England, Raymond began playing guitar at the age of eight. Tompkins Square released her debut 7" on Record Store Day.
In Gwenifer's own words :
When I was about eight years old a pretty formative thing happened to me ... my mum bought me a cassette tape of Nirvana's Nevermind. Being so young I'd had no real interest in music prior to that, but I did have a 'My First Sony' cassette player that I used to listen to audiobooks. Anyway, I put the tape in, pressed play, and what I heard blew my little 8 year old mind. I don't know what it was about that wall of sound that so captured me, but I spent many hours hyperactively running around the house with headphones on, volume at full blast, and Nevermind on repeat. It was either for Christmas or my birthday that year, that I asked for a guitar.
I spent all my teenage years playing either guitar or drums in various punk and rock outfits around the Welsh valleys, but around that time I was also getting seriously into older stuff, Dylan, The Velvet Underground and the like. Through those cheap compilation CDs you could get then, I found that a common influence amongst these guys was pre-war delta and country blues, as well as Appalachian music. Eventually I stumbled upon Mississippi John Hurt, Skip James and Roscoe Holcomb, and they became the holy trinity of musicians I so wanted to able to play like. Eventually, I tracked down a blues man in Cardiff who could teach me and it was in studying these guys that I was introduced to John Fahey and the whole American Primitive thing.
I've always loved being in bands and the sonic chemistry it produces, but at the same time it's always a bit of a compromise that those sounds in my head have to pass through and be translated by someone else's. Sometimes it can be for the better, but sometimes not so much. American Primitive was the first time it had occurred to me that you didn't really need anything more than one solo instrument to fully express yourself, especially when those feelings and moods refuse to be articulated in words, sometimes it's a mystery to yourself what it is you're expressing. I still play in hard rock and punk bands and love to wail and hit my guitar with a complete lack of any subtlety or nuance, but in the end I think that all these things are really part of a circle, feeding back into itself. It's all just a lineup of strange mutations.
Cold Beat is a San Francisco-based quartet fronted by Hannah Lew (synths, vocals) with Kyle King (synths, guitar), Luciano Talpini Aita (synths) and Sean Monaghan (guitar). Formed in 2013 the band has released three albums and two EPs. 'A Simple Reflection' is a 7-song collection of Eurythmics covers, yet feels just as personal as any of their original material. While digging through a collection of 12s for her record shop Contact Records, Lew stumbled across the earliest Eurythmics B-sides and was floored. This lead to the discovery of their debut album 'In The Garden'. Annie Lennox's abstract and poetic lyrics really struck a chord with Hannah. What had started out as a single cover quickly snowballed into a full blown obsession. The synth and drum programming resonated with her songwriting process, so reimagining them was very creatively fulfilling. The covers on this EP are simultaneously dynamic and atmospheric post-punk that plays to Lew's ethereal vocals and King's crystalline guitar. All songs have been mixed by Mikey Young (Total Control) and mastered by George Horn at Fantasy Studios. The record is housed in a jacket designed by Eloise Leigh, which features pink and purple clouds that evoke a dreamy softness and DIY playfulness and photos Lew in her best Lennox-inspired drag. Each copy includes a postcard with photos and notes. 'Sometimes a song seems to sing just for you, as if someone knows your most inner thoughts and feelings and has found a way to describe them effortlessly' - Hannah Lew
First Time Out is a cosmic soul transmission from Nigeria's own Diana Ross, Theadora Ifudu. The arty co-host of hit TV program, 'The Bar Beach Show' hooked up with the guys from Monomono to created an album that is sultry, sexy and effortlessly cool. It's a smoky, New York Soul Club on wax. A graduate of the New York film school, Ifudu considered herself an artiste, and the opening track, 'Hello There!' Is arresting in its cinematic scope and intriguing strangeness. After briefly channelling Miriam Makes in 'Gbata Ngwa', she moves into full diva mode. '(When Will It Be) Right Time' features vocal runs that Mariah Carey would be proud of and 'That Man' has a smoky, jazz club vibe. It's easy to imagine Theadora, under a single spotlight, dazzling in a sparkling figure-hugging crowd, holding a hard-to-please New York audience in her thrall. At times funky, laidback and smooth, the greatest compliment that can be paid to First Time Out is that it sounds international. The musicianship is first class, the vocals faultless and the mood super smooth. Theadora Ifudu, the self-proclaimed 'moon watcher, ragdoll and artiste', created an Afro soul masterpiece for the ages. - Peter Moore,
- A1: Scream (4:36)
- A2: They Don't Care About Us (4:43)
- A3: Stranger In Moscow (5:21)
- A4: This Time Around (4:30)
- B1: Earth Song (6:40)
- B2: Ds (4:50)
- B3: Money (4:41)
- B4: Come Together (4:01)
- C1: You Are Not Alone (5:48)
- C2: Childhood (Theme From Free Willy 2) (4:27)
- C3: Tabloid Junkie (4:34)
- C4: 2 Bad (4:49)
- D1: History (6:43)
- D2: Little Susie (6:07)
- D3: Smile (5:02)
Planet Mu Are Very Happy To Be Releasing 'vicious Circles', The Debut Ep By Sinjin Hawke And Zora Jones, Who Aside From Producing Music Also Run The Audio-visual Production Unit 'fractal Fantasy'. Zora Released Several Collaborations On Last Year's 'visceral Minds 2' Including 'dark Matter' With Planet Mu's Jlin, While Sinjin Has Collaborated With Dj Rashad, Just Blaze And Mikeq, And Also Produced Music For Monoliths Like Kanye West And Frank Ocean. Remarkably, Given The Breadth Of Their Work, 'vicious Circles' Is Their First Collaborative Ep, And The First Time Either Have Released A Vinyl Record Too. The Ep Is A Great Showcase For The Duo's Emotional, Maximalist Chimeras Of Abstract Pounding Beats. From The Punchy, Circular, Grandiose Build-ups Of Opener 'vicious Circles', To The Unyielding Melancholy Of 'god' With Its Sinister Bulgarian Choir Sample Against A Peak Timbaland-era Rhythm, The Record's Potent Synths And Manipulated Vocals Are Both Simultaneously Fierce And Friendly. 'source Of Conflict' Is A Poised Dance Between Pulsing Ambient Textures And Drilling Beats, While 'lurk 101' Pits A Volley Of Abstracted Juke Toms Up Against A Hammering Drumline. 'babyboysosa' Feels Like Drum-less Drill, Manipulating Vocals Into Strange Alien Shapes Over A Bassline Before Spiraling Toms And Hi-hats Start To Form A Forceful March. The Ep Concludes On The Love Anthem 'and You Were One' With A Chipmunked Vocal Running Through Its Wonky Chorus Of Bent Notes And Chords.
At first, it's difficult to pinpoint exactly what makes Our Girl so special, or why the Brighton-formed, London-based trio's music stands out within a busy crowd of fellow guitar-wielding-types. But if an explanation didn't jump out when they first emerged with a debut EP of mighty fuzz-soaked songs in November 2016, it surfaces with 'Stranger Today', a debut album of personal, emotional juggernauts that could have only been made by these three people: Guitarist / vocalist Soph Nathan, bassist Josh Tyler and drummer Lauren Wilson.
Since forming in Nathan and Tyler's Brighton home four years ago - Wilson joining as a late recruit when she was wowed by a demo of their self-titled debut track, and 'Stranger Today''s opener - Our Girl's members have only had pockets of time to work together. A day booked in a local studio here, a soundcheck there, full-time jobs and other projects meant the three rarely had a concentrated, collective patch. This changed in September 2017, when they stayed in Eve Studios in Stockport for a week, recording with Bill Ryder-Jones. Their week in Stockport became a crucial catalyst for what would follow. Ryder-Jones is a guitar virtuoso himself ('He did stuff neither me or Soph had ever seen anyone do before,' Tyler remarks), and he became an unofficial fourth member of the group.
'Stranger Today' is a special debut for several reasons: First, because it's the sound of a band beginning to grasp their own value and place in the world. Secondly, because you can hear the trio's hunger to finally get in the same room and put to tape years' worth of scrapbooks, half-finished ideas, and a slowly-forming feel for how their first album would actually sound. 'What band isn't itching to make their debut But it's quite frightening, knowing you're about to do it,' Wilson remembers.
The real clincher, however, is Our Girl's dynamic, and how it plays out across 'Stranger Today'. Best friends in person, the trio share the same close kinship and chemistry on record. On one side is Nathan's visceral lyricism, which has a habit of detailing and chipping away at precise moments; the first heart-flutter of a new crush; the moment a long-term friendship begins to ebb away. Around her, Tyler and Wilson's rhythm section carefully mirrors each feeling Nathan conveys. When she sings pointedly about love ('I Really Like It'), she's backed by a major-key afterglow. When the subject turns on its head ('Josephine'), out steps a wall of taut, earth-shaking noise. They each 'serve the song,' in Wilson's words, moving in sync but with their own personal slant. Not least on the closer 'Boring', where all restraint is thrown aside and the trio let out one final, violent thrash. They inhabit a space bigger than the first loves, sleepless nights and growing pains that define this record.
Nathan remembers being in Brighton four years ago, shortly after Our Girl formed, and realising, 'I was finally in the band I wanted to be in.' Almost half a decade later, and this eureka moment is sewn up on 'Stranger Today'. It's the sound of three friends totally at ease in their own space, discontent with being anywhere else; a vibrant document of what it's like to be young, invigorated and amongst people who feel the same.
Adrian Younge Presents: Voices of Gemma is yet another achievement in Younge's continued exploration of songwriting and composition. Imagine if David Axelrod and Charles Stepney came together to record a psychedelic album with the vocalists from Sesame Street and Electric Company. Voices of Gemma features vocalists, Brooke de Rosa, a favorite of Younge's who sings on his Something About April, Ghostface Killah and Souls of Mischief projects, and another special voice, the classically trained Rebecca Englehardt. Recorded and mixed by Adrian Younge at Linear Labs, the preeminent analog studio of Los Angeles, CA.
During the eighties it was possible to observe an Italian fascination with the mysterious Far East. This can be found across art, design and music in Italy during this time, in subtle or obvious ways. Specifically there are Italo-disco records that proudly show this influence, some of the best known being: Fun Fun Living In Japan, Koto Chinese Revenge and City-O' Rose of Tokyo.Following in this theme is Fancy Null Null. Not to be confused with the famous Euro-disco artist behind Slice me Nice, this 'Fancy' is a one-off project from Italo-disco icon Raffaele Fiume, the artist and voice behind many great Italo-disco hits, such as: Helicon You See, Malcom & the Bad Girls Shoot Me and Ralph River Band Strange Vibration.Adding to the original tracks of the 1982 release is a totally ecstatic and powerful remix from Betonkust: one of the most talented and exciting Dutch producers of recent years. Also included is an instrumental edit from Hysteric, for those who find the unique vocals challenging.
Two Words is the debut release from the duo of Canadian sound artist crys cole and Australian songwriter Francis Plagne. Building on a series of experimental live performances in which the pair toyed with possible common languages for their seemingly unrelated approaches to music, the LP's two sides present a single piece that brings together abstract texture and slow-motion song in a sonic space where genre cedes to the logic of dreams.
The piece begins with a long, nearly static sequence built primarily from rubbed surfaces, using movement in the stereo field and changing mic placements to create a unified but unstable sonic environment that mimics wind, water, and breath, opening an impossible space between nature and artifice. This artificial outdoors ultimately makes room for Plagne's electric organ, which sounds a series of melancholic chords to accompany a wandering Wyatt-esque keyboard line as cole's intimate contact mic textures sizzle and pop in the foreground.
From here the piece makes a surprise detour into song, as the majority of the second side finds Plagne intoning a series of obtuse two word phrases (from a text by Berlin-based poet Marty Hiatt) to an austere organ accompaniment. Working closely with engineer and producer Joe Talia, cole and Plagne extend the studio-as-an-instrument tradition of Teo Macero and This Heat, introducing subtle yet unexpected production shifts that lead the listener from the initial austerity of the organ and voice to an oneiric space of asynchronised vocal doubles, creaking textures, and distant whistling, ultimately arriving at something like an imagined meeting of Organum and Arthur Russell.
Packaged in a suitably mysterious sleeve featuring a lush work by Australian painter Anne Wallace on the front and text by Hiatt on the back, Two Words is both comforting and strange, a disorienting blend of seemingly discrepant elements.




















