Cerca:structur the question

A new album by four-piece band District Five from Zurich is always a good moment to reassess one’s own expectations. After Burnt Sugar 2022 and Pause 2023, Come Closer is the third album by Vojko Huter, Paul Amereller, Tapiwa Svosve and Xaver Rüegg, which mixes a wide range of references without ever being bothered by the commitment to one genre only. Imagine the band as something like a catalyst, through which its members constantly process what they are influenced by. And these influences are in constant motion: derived from the old-fashioned and amicable interest of collaboratively making music, the band comes together in their weekly ritual, dedicated to this synthesis of interests. At one point, this unrestricted game was called jazz, but even a generous concept can become too narrow. Which is why the genre remains an important influence, but not the only point of reference. Rather, its qualities are the root system from which everything else grows.

Case in point for this expansion of possibilities is the first track on Come Closer, which, and here comes a genre attribution after all, moves the album into the vicinity of dream pop. “Another One” centers the voice, evoking old and new memories alike. Accompanied by an adequately slowed-down guitar riff and rhythm, the musical framework remains stable before collapsing in a nervous, shimmering manner. Ready to be assembled anew. On the following seven tracks, District Five takes on this task, referencing post-punk motifs as well as progressive, meandering song structures. Condensed and expansive at the same time, driven by a desire for collective play.

This trusting cooperation between District Five’s members is ultimately the constant of Come Closer. Although the four musicians seem determined to find a different way to organize themselves as a band on almost every song, this conversational approach holds the album together on an intuitive level. And in the end, the only question that remains is: is it the members that influence the band, or is it the other way around?

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Something About Livingis an album of live recordings by experimental jazz composer/multi-instrumentalist Robert Stillman. The music was captured over the course of Stillman's time as the solo support act for The Smile (Thom Yorke, Jonny Greenwood, Tom Skinner). The album weaves excerpts from various theater and arena shows along the tour's North American routing into a seamless whole, creating a 40-minute program that represents an expanded version of Stillman's ever-transforming live set.

Something About Livingis the product of a steady, on-stage evolution that happened over the course of the nearly 60 shows opening for the Smile across the EU, UK, US, Canada and Mexico. However, the creative origins of the set began in relative isolation during the pandemic, through Stillman's work on projects like his multi-media installationUnseen Forcesand his monthly broadcast for Margate Radio, both of which drew upon solo improvisation using saxophone, cassettes, Yamaha DX7 synthesizer, and effects.

"At the time The Smile asked whether I'd like to open for them on their first tour, I felt like I'd already been preparing without really knowing it," says Stillman. "I'd been doing this music constantly, but always for a hypothetical audience" During the pandemic, Stillman's solo set-up served as the research lab where he worked on all the concepts he was interested in: solo improvisation, creating and manipulating cassettes, FM synthesis, analogue delays chains, no-input mixing, and non-metric rhythmic pulses. So when he was offered the first Smile tour, the idea was to bring "the lab" onto the stage.

What Stillman could not have prepared for was the experience of playing in venues with capacities of up to ten thousand listeners. "The first tour was in summer 2022, so not that long after the worst of the pandemic, when I had pretty much made peace with the idea that I might never be able to perform for an audience again. Then all of a sudden I found myself in front of huge numbers of people, and felt the massive responsibility of being with an audience, of this thing I'd done alone for so longactually being witnessed, and it was completely overwhelming!" On the flip-side, Stillman also recalls, was a new appreciation of how powerful the live performance was as a social phenomenon. "It's a cliche, but also true: the moment of making and hearing music in a shared time and space has a very specific meaning and power; there was a sense that everyone in the venue was necessary to make it real, regardless of what they were doing, or how they felt about it. There was an inevitability about it that I'd never fully appreciated."

Over the course of the tours that followed, Stillman transformed this appreciation of the shared moment into an ethic of spontaneity that guided the development of his live set. "An important reference for this set has always been an Animal Collective show I saw when I first moved to New York, probably in 2001 or so, that has always set the high-water mark for what I wanted to do live- they were improvising a lot, and out of what would seem to be absolute chaos they'd find their way to something structured, and then back out again into the unknown. It was so thrilling to witness".

ThoughSomething About Livingcompiles recordings from different dates along the tour, Stillman has edited and mixed them into a work that seeks to reflect the ebb and flow between 'chaos and control' that characterizes his live set. Among the compositions featured are some from previous album releases ("Time of Waves", "What I Owe", "What Does it Mean to Be American") as well as some new compositions ("The Dream of Waking", "Renaissance 2.0," and the title track, "Something About Living").

The album/track title "Something About Living" is a reference to a line from Stillman's favorite film,My Dinner With André: "André Gregory is explaining the value of life experiences that, as he says, are'to do with living'.That really struck me, the way he articulated it. I strongly believe live music situations can ask these kinds of questions, for performers and audiences. I hope that's reflected in this music."

[a] 01: Time of Waves (Live in Miami FL) [Live]
[b] 02: What Does It Mean to Be American (Live in Forest Hills NY) [Live]
[c] 03: The Dream of Waking (Live in St Augustine FL) [Live]
[d] 04: Something About Living (Live in Richmond VA) [Live]
[e] 05: What I Owe (Live in Chesterfield MO) [Live]
[f] 06: Renaissance 2.0 (Live in Chesterfield MO) [Live]

Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time is a portal into somatic chiaroscuro, aglow with the embers of imperfect memories and smudged with the plumes of internal echoes, which augment in vast, mercurial dimensions. For his third album on RVNG Intl., the British cellist, composer and producer offers a capsule of personal resonance and remembrance, assembled over the past six years. Throb, shiver, arrow of time traces the familiar metallic anatomy and viscous string modulations of his 2020 release skins n slime, while recentering his inner compulsions following a procession of lauded score writing projects, including the films Aftersun (Charlotte Wells, 2022), The Stranger (Thomas M Wright, 2022) and Occupied City (Steve McQueen, 2023). While working on Aftersun, Wells asked Coates how music could signal that someone is going on a trawl through their memory_a question that has stayed with him ever since and fosters a heartbeat running through the record. Throb, shiver, arrow of time is "all about inaccurate transmissions from our memories, overlaid with emotions from other sources," says Coates. The release is imbued with the ache and glow of recollections mulched together, where the guttural dissonance of misremembering is shrouded by strange orbs of sentiment. At the record's inner core is "Shopping centre curfew," a swift yet cavernous track that emerged five years ago when two real world events, both occurring in South London during the pandemic lockdowns, became fused in a dream: the demolition of Elephant and Castle shopping center, and the discussion of a curfew as a real possibility for all men following a violent crime. A strange simultaneity occurred with this piece of music and Coates built the album out from there, a sense of temporal entropy refracting shimmers of lurking convulsions into lucid sonic topologies. The ten compositions of Throb, shiver, arrow of time find weightless melodies soaring across after-image gradients, magnified and compressed. Misted tones within "Please be normal" and "90" soften drone-soaked shudders of inner acoustics messing up. Vocal invocations appear from long-term collaborators Malibu and chrysanthemum bear, as well as drifting synth radiance from Faten Kanaan. Throb, shiver, arrow of time furthers Coates' reach in collapsing the digital into the analogue and vice versa, allowing serendipity to reorganize the material and push out against the confines of flatness. This sculptural approach to sound is deeply influenced by the intricate installations of artist Sarah Sze, whose permutations of visual matter with its own after-image form kaleidoscopic epitaphs for ephemera and emotion. Coates' thinking about Sze's work and processes flowed together with his own playing and editing techniques, superimposing the textural relief of a live take back into a composition, and allowing the sound to succumb to a dream of itself. As Coates expands, "The cello is a kind of melancholic instrument with a light ethereal spirit. When the sound is flattened into digital processes, with shifted frequencies and time stretching I'm trying to give it even more of those qualities. Sometimes I'm distancing myself from it, so it becomes a piece of discarded debris that has soul in it, a down-sampling. Or other times, it's trying to maximize the present tense in the act of playing, and collapse that vivid color into a burnished, photocopied kind of sound. So the music acts like weather, weathering the listener, or as flames licking at the sides of objects." As the record unfurls, the compositions swell in duration, until the granular glimmers of its finale "Make it happen" persist in almost violent delight. "There's a feeling of not wanting to let this album go, trying to defy the extinguishing sound at the end of the music, trying to push the colors beyond the confines of the structure, to defeat the silence." In the scramble to resist denouement, Coates suspends the arrow of time in its eternal flight, just for a moment, to reveal the solace of the dust settling in the afterglow. Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time will be released on vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on October 18, 2024. On behalf of Oliver and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit The Traditional Music and Song Association of Scotland, an organization fostering opportunities for people of all ages to participate in the traditional music and culture of Scotland.

Cindy is to release a new six song EP called Swan Lake on 4th October via Tough Love. The title isn’t a nod to the folktale or ballet in any real way, but to the fact that it all has ended up in the collective imagination as an object, vaguely recognizable, a little suggestive, and mostly blank. Karina Gill, Cindy’s songwriter, likes to make use of that kind of resonance to connect sound and experience. The six songs on this EP continue the stripped-down habits of previous Cindy releases, while adding a few departures and left-turns. Cindy likes to work at the essentials and the elements here say exactly what’s needed. In other ways, these songs present a soft filigree that’s unusual for their recordings. Oli Lipton (Now, Violent Change) on guitar and Will Smith (Now) on bass play counterpoint melodies to Gill’s structures. Staizsh Rodrigues (Children Maybe Later, Almond Joy, Peace Frog) sings vocal harmonies that both offset and deepen Gill’s voice and delivery. There are playful drums by Mike Ramos (Tony Jay, Sad Eyed Beatniks) and coolly elaborate guitar lines from Stanley Martinez (Famous Mammals, Violent Change, Non Plus Temps). Gill’s songs strike this balance too: almost nonchalant reporting tied up in unexpected knots. A ride in an elevator connects up with questions about peace and/or the nature of things; the title track wonders about associative thinking and associative feeling; The Bell is an account of one of those times when everything makes sense but you can’t explain it; and there’s the scene of a party viewed with admiration for how friends can love each other. As Gill herself says: "People have told me that they can’t quite identify my influences. Me neither. The foundational layers of music of the past and my past have been metabolized like breakfast and turned into more me, sorry to say. But I experience the music of people I’m connected with and it impacts me in the moment. There’s the music I’m around – April Magazine, Sad Eyed Beatniks, Violent Change, Katsy Pline, collaborating with Mike on Flowertown – that I can feel a direct line from. Then there’s music that is being made far away but feels close, like Lewsberg, specifically, for this EP. " CINDY – UK Tour Dates: Oct 31st WOE is 6 @ Walthamstow Trades Hall, London w/ Cuneiform Tabs & Bobby Would. Nov 1st Coventry, UK Just Dropped In Records, 2 Halifax, UK The Grayston Unity, 4 York, UK The Fulford Arms, 5 Gateshead, UK The Central Bar, 6 Glasgow, UK The Glad Café, 7 Manchester, UK Rat & Pigeon, 8 Cambridge, UK NCI Centre.

Cindy is to release a new six song EP called Swan Lake on 4th October via Tough Love. The title isn't a nod to the folktale or ballet in any real way, but to the fact that it all has ended up in the collective imagination as an object, vaguely recognizable, a little suggestive, and mostly blank. Karina Gill, Cindy's songwriter, likes to make use of that kind of resonance to connect sound and experience. The six songs on this EP continue the stripped-down habits of previous Cindy releases, while adding a few departures and left-turns. Cindy likes to work at the essentials and the elements here say exactly what's needed. In other ways, these songs present a soft filigree that's unusual for their recordings. Oli Lipton (Now, Violent Change) on guitar and Will Smith (Now) on bass play counterpoint melodies to Gill's structures. Staizsh Rodrigues (Children Maybe Later, Almond Joy, Peace Frog) sings vocal harmonies that both offset and deepen Gill's voice and delivery. There are playful drums by Mike Ramos (Tony Jay, Sad Eyed Beatniks) and coolly elaborate guitar lines from Stanley Martinez (Famous Mammals, Violent Change, Non Plus Temps). Gill's songs strike this balance too: almost nonchalant reporting tied up in unexpected knots. A ride in an elevator connects up with questions about peace and/or the nature of things; the title track wonders about associative thinking and associative feeling; The Bell is an account of one of those times when everything makes sense but you can't explain it; and there's the scene of a party viewed with admiration for how friends can love each other. As Gill herself says: "People have told me that they can't quite identify my influences. Me neither. The foundational layers of music of the past and my past have been metabolized like breakfast and turned into more me, sorry to say. But I experience the music of people I'm connected with and it impacts me in the moment. There's the music I'm around - April Magazine, Sad Eyed Beatniks, Violent Change, Katsy Pline, collaborating with Mike on Flowertown - that I can feel a direct line from. Then there's music that is being made far away but feels close, like Lewsberg, specifically, for this EP. "

Following his highly acclaimed 2021 album "Atotal" (Aesthetical) and 2022 "Magnetoscope" (Raster), Vigroux returns with eight heavyweight tracks composed in 2023 and 2024. Vigroux states about his current work: "I am not very talkative about my music unless I am specifically questioned, the immaterial dimension of music partly spares us from the major questions which are the prerogative of theatrical forms for which I am also very active, in this sense for me music is a real outlet where things are done intuitively, for pleasure". Always pushing forth and expanding his now classic rigidly cold analog sounds and rhythmic structures entwined with lush atmospheric synth compositions, "Grand Bal is another milestone in his ever growing discography.

Admittedly, I'm not a great salesperson when it comes to running our little label. I do my best not to give into hyperbole or build something up too intensely if someone has not heard a new artist yet. I prefer to simply present the music and let the listener decide how they feel about it. However, we live in an age when the "story" put together by publicists, labels, and managers are often the driving force of an artist's ascension into the zeitgeist. And for me, that's always felt rather artificial, even when the narrative is genuine. But every once in a while, a project comes along that takes on a life of its own. And I can say without a doubt that the growth of Pale Jay's reach since we first started working with him has little to do with conjured narratives or clever marketing, but more to do with how the music makes the listener feel. It's that simple. In fact, Jay is so enigmatic and without a narrative that the mere absence of a story has become the story. Who is he? Where is he from? What's next? Some questions are better left unanswered in my opinion, my friend. Including the question, "Why does this music make me feel so much?" You're better off just sitting back, disconnecting, and letting Low End Love Songs by Pale Jay wrap you up. Enjoy and spread the good word. - Terry Cole

"Low End Love Songs", more so than previous releases, is a diary in form of song. I knew I just had to wait for the songs to be ready to be picked, like ripe fruit from a tree. Each tune encapsulates a distinct moment in my life, with music serving as my means of processing complex and sometimes conflicting emotions. In this album, I depart from loop-based song structures towards more intricate and lush compositions. Latin influences permeate the music, adding new layers of rhythms and textures to my soul-music roots. - Pale Jay

Admittedly, I'm not a great salesperson when it comes to running our little label. I do my best not to give into hyperbole or build something up too intensely if someone has not heard a new artist yet. I prefer to simply present the music and let the listener decide how they feel about it. However, we live in an age when the "story" put together by publicists, labels, and managers are often the driving force of an artist's ascension into the zeitgeist. And for me, that's always felt rather artificial, even when the narrative is genuine. But every once in a while, a project comes along that takes on a life of its own. And I can say without a doubt that the growth of Pale Jay's reach since we first started working with him has little to do with conjured narratives or clever marketing, but more to do with how the music makes the listener feel. It's that simple. In fact, Jay is so enigmatic and without a narrative that the mere absence of a story has become the story. Who is he? Where is he from? What's next? Some questions are better left unanswered in my opinion, my friend. Including the question, "Why does this music make me feel so much?" You're better off just sitting back, disconnecting, and letting Low End Love Songs by Pale Jay wrap you up. Enjoy and spread the good word. - Terry Cole

"Low End Love Songs", more so than previous releases, is a diary in form of song. I knew I just had to wait for the songs to be ready to be picked, like ripe fruit from a tree. Each tune encapsulates a distinct moment in my life, with music serving as my means of processing complex and sometimes conflicting emotions. In this album, I depart from loop-based song structures towards more intricate and lush compositions. Latin influences permeate the music, adding new layers of rhythms and textures to my soul-music roots. - Pale Jay

Black Truffle is thrilled to present the first vinyl reissue of David Rosenboom’s unique Future Travel, originally released on the short-lived Detroit label Street Records in 1981 and here presented in an expanded edition with an additional LP of wild, previously unheard live and studio material from the same period.

Future Travel emerged from the confluence of two important streams in Rosenboom’s work at this time. First, his exploration of ‘propositional music’, defined as ‘complete cognitive models of music’ that start from the radical question, ‘What is music?’ In this case, the music belongs to the universe of Rosenboom’s In the Beginning (1978-1981), in which proportional relationships determine the material available to the composer in all musical parameters (harmonic relationships, melodic shapes, rhythmic subdivisions, dynamics, and so on). Second, the work documents a key moment in Rosenboom’s long collaboration with synthesizer pioneer Don Buchla. Having played a role in developing concepts for some of the modules of the Buchla 300 Series Electric Music Box (an innovative analogue modular system controlled by micro-processors), Rosenboom went on to write the software for Buchla’s hybrid analogue-digital keyboard synthesiser, the Touché, the instrument heard most prominently here.

In a way that no purely analogue synthesizer could, the 300 Series and Touché allowed Rosenboom to work with the In the Beginning algorithms in real time, the synthesizers becoming ‘intelligent instruments’ that actively collaborate with the performer. Developing the open structures of the electronic pieces from In the Beginning, Future Travel explored the possibilities of simply ‘playing the system’, recording live at Francis Ford Coppola’s Zoetrope studio in San Francisco. Working from loose sketches, Rosenboom added acoustic instruments to the electronic sounds and, on some pieces, the processed voice of Jacqueline Humbert. Like Rosenboom’s collaboration with Humbert on the abstracted synth-chanson of Daytime Viewing, this music set out deliberately to challenge the ‘stratified and illusorily coagulated identities in the musical culture of the time,’ refusing distinctions between ‘serious’ and popular music. But where Daytime Viewing achieves this in part through genre references, Future Travel is bracingly sui generis, existing in a unique universe where radical formalisation à la Xenakis spontaneously gives rise to expressive jazz harmonies and old-timey folk melodies.

The crystalline quality of many of the Touché sounds gives Future Travel a sparkling, immediately enticing surface, its layers of shifting ostinato patterns pulsating outside conventional meter, rippling like waves on the surface of water. On opener ‘Station Oaxaca’, ping-ponging synth arpeggios and hand percussion accompany a sentimental violin melody, abruptly overtaken by layered keyboard runs, before the entry of tinkling marimba-like sounds reframe the scene as sci-fi Martin Denny exotica. ‘Time Arroyo’ begins as an austere study in staccato synth sounds in multiple overlapping tempi, reminiscent of Ligeti’s famous ‘clock’ rhythmic effects. Before long, it opens up into a melodic passage with the gentle heroism of classic Roedelius, which proves to be only a brief interlude before the layers of rhythmically distinct synthesiser patterns begin to build and accelerate into an increasingly dense cacophony. The wildest twists and turns are saved for the epic closer ‘Nova Wind’, where the arrangement focuses on Rosenboom’s virtuoso piano playing, perfectly embodying the project’s radical disregard of stylistic orthodoxies as he moves from hyperactive pointillistic flurries to a kind of space-age gospel.

At several points throughout the record, the distinctive voice of Jacqueline Humbert is heard reading passages from the text component of In the Beginning, a dialogue between The Double (an embodiment of humanity’s timeless desire to replicate itself in spiritual and technological copies) and two Spirit Characters. Fittingly, as all are conceived as embodiments of a future form of techno-human collective consciousness, distinctions between the three characters are not immediately evident in Humbert’s delivery, just as the music blurs the boundaries between intelligent computing and human spontaneity. Adorned with a striking retro-futurist cover (and here accompanied by extensive new liner notes and archival images), Future Travel is a time capsule of radical imaginings at the birth of our digital age, reminding us of utopian possibilities of which our own present seems so often to fall short.

"The new avant-garde isn't about creating something that doesn't yet exist, it's about abandoning and confusing rigid genres. I want to open up, in order to both abolish and reconstruct the musical past." — Noémi Büchi

Noémi Büchi's album 'Does It Still Matter' completes a series of releases whose titles - 'Matière', 'Matter', and 'Does It Still Matter' - place the physicality of music in the center of attention. Büchi's specific sound structures and aesthetic choices question the state of materiality in a world that is becoming more and more fluid and intangible.

From 'Matière' to 'Matter', Büchi subtly transferred from a focus on substance to questioning the enigmatic core of

being, passing from a noun to a verb, and from a single word to an inquiry. 'Does It Still Matter' weighs in on the importance of questioning. Her pieces juxtapose multi-layered analog synthesizer textures, crystal clear sounds and almost brutalistic noises, while they unfold in compositional structures akin to pop songs. Driven by an orchestra of myriad parts, her music creates transcendent intonations that resonate deeply with the listeners' bodies. A daring blend of complexity and accessibility are molded into captivating sound sculptures that challenge and intrigue listeners alike.

Deviating from conventional time divisions, 'Does It Still Matter' immerses listeners in a discordant succession of elements, and guides them towards an eternal present that erases the past with each new revelation, while maintaining it through recurring themes that serve as intimate memories. Büchi's electronic maximalism questions our linear perception of time, offering a glimpse into a world where the past, present, and future converge into a singular moment. Her avant-garde approach rejects predictability, inviting listeners to immerse themselves fully in the present. Everything starts anew at any given instant. Each musical idea exists for one precise moment, rendering the future unpredictable.

'Does It Still Matter' unfolds against a backdrop of collective disaster and biocidal urgency, challenging the very essence of time. Büchi explains: "The world appears to have gone mad. It's all but impossible to reflect on the meaning of avant-garde in music, considering the future in this sepulchral kind of stability of the human condition." Her compositions resonate like an infernal machine, questioning the instantaneous dissipation of everything. Finally, echoes and fragments of sounds remain, haunting memories like ghostly companions.

'Does It Still Matter' is an immersive experience that invites listeners to contemplate the impermanence of our world and the enduring power of sound.

Laura Quirke and Claire Kinsella’s collaboration charms audiences into a world of intimate observations and uncomfortable questions with irresistible chemistry, charisma, and humour. ‘Why are all the good men, too old, taken or dead?’ The rare alchemy of the duo’s voices together cuts through a minimal and dramatic soundscape; coloured by the warmth and grit of Kinsella’s Cello, and distinctly underpinned by Quirke’s cyclical, trance-like guitar playing. While embedded in Irish and Folk roots, Lemoncello’s sound embraces the freedom of carving out its own song structures, entwined with a love of off-kilter Indie Pop, Jazz extemporisation and Romantic and Contemporary Classical music. A vital voice in the thriving alternative folk scene in Ireland, Lemoncello have been nominated for Best Folk Song and Best Emerging Folk Act at the RTE Radio 1 Folk Awards and opened for and collaborated with many esteemed artists such as Lisa O'Neill, Sam Amidon, Glen Hansard, Cormac Begley & Joshua Burnside. Now, they present their self-titled debut album, available on CD & vinyl.

“Great Doubt” is the third full length LP by Danish composer Astrid Sonne. Throughout her acclaimed discography, Astrid Sonne has been carefully crafting different moods through electronic and acoustic instrumental endeavours. On “Great Doubt” this skill is refined, now with the distinct addition of the composer's own vocal in front. The tone of each track is unmistakably Sonne’s, structured around contrasts through an impeccable sense of timing. Lyrics on the album are sparse, merely highlighting different scenes or emotional states of being, leaving the music to fill in the blanks. Yet they also form a pattern of ambiguity, consolidated through the album title, searching for answers through looking at how and what you are asking, questions for the world, questions of love. The viola, a trusted companion since Astrid Sonne’s youth, appears effortlessly throughout the album, fully integrated into the sonic universe; through a pizzicato driven arrangement in the poignant track “Almost” or along with booms and claps in mutated cinematic stabs during “Give my all”, paraphrasing Mariah Carey's 1997 ballad. Yet the string section also gives way to explorations of woodwinds, counterbalancing the bowed movements with digital brass and airy flutes. Finally, beats and detuned piano are fresh additions to the soundscape, cementing how Sonne’s practice is always evolving into new territories. In fall 2022, Astrid Sonne relocated from Copenhagen with its peers of artists such as ML Buch, Erika de Casier and Smerz, to live in London, where musicians of the South-East London scene like Coby Sey, Lolina, Still House Plants and Mica Levi provide a new inspirational framework. “Great Doubt” bears witness to both of those geographical locations, yet finds itself in its own unique space, in many ways due to the presence of Sonne's voice throughout. A voice that has always been present in her work, but never fully explored as a solo instrument before now. Astrid Sonne elaborates on the wish to work more in depth with the voice: “I come from a tradition of choir singing where I’ve used my voice as a way of creating unity with other voices. I’ve disciplined my voice in a certain way and this album is an exploration of me trying to find my own voice as an instrument, as a communicator, as a new way of being honest.” Questions take up a central role throughout the album. The doubt is both a blessing and a curse, always lying in-between, acting as both what holds back and drives forward. A metamorphosis not going anywhere. The great doubt takes place in a space of courage, chances, love, loss, gifts and surprises. Genre: Electronic / Experimental

FYEAR is a Montréal-based ensemble led by composer Jason Sharp and poet/writer Kaie Kellough that fuses spoken word into genre-bending compositions for electronics, two voices, two drummers, and processed saxophone, pedal steel guitar, and violins. FYEAR incorporates drone, out-jazz, post-classical, ambient metal, avant-rock, and modular synthesis in a sonic and stylistic palette the opposite of collage or pastiche: the FYEAR ensemble integrates a unique and unified sound/aesthetic while traversing adventurous and variegated terrain. Kellough’s poetic materiality conveys acute political-existential themes, alternating between declarative, meditative, and cut-up/semiotic manifestations. This self-titled debut album is a supremely innovative 40-minute multi-movement work; an ardent mission statement that mines the interzone where Saul Williams, Moor Mother/Irreversible Entanglements, Shabazz Palaces, Zulu, Angel Bat Dawid, Damon Locks/Black Monument Ensemble, Shabaka Hutchings, and Matana Roberts are all iconoclastic neighbours. FYEAR melds improvisation and composition, traditional notation and graphic scoring, electronic and acoustic instrumentation, lucid recitation and abstract vocalization, balancing intensive structure with an expansive sense of exploration. Through several years of collaboration, development, workshops, commissions and performances conducted by Sharp and Kellough, their wordsound practice has culminated in this nine-piece group which also features poet/writer/activist Tawhida Tanya Evanson (present director of the Banff Centre Spoken Word program) violinists Josh Zubot and Jesse Zubot (Tanya Tagaq, Darius Jones, Joshua Hyslop), pedal steel player Joe Grass (Tim Hecker, Patrick Watson), drummers Stefan Schneider (Bell Orchestre) and Tommy Crane (The Mingus Big Band, Aaron Parks), with live visual typographics from Kevin Yuen-Kit Lo, who also designs the album art. Propelled by the vocal interactions of Kellough and Evanson, FYEAR interrogates our present and future post-capitalist polycrisis, invoking collective anxieties, emotions, and critiques. FYEAR re-poetizes our constructed, manipulated social/conceptual realities, re-inscribing questions about the future by setting them to a wildly dynamic and evocative temporal soundtrack: Who does it belong to? How will it be shared? How do we project a collective future into the contested challenges of climate change, global migration, wealth gaps, safety/precarity, identity/affinity, segmentation / segregation, all our seemingly irreconcilable histories and forward visions for the world we dream to inhabit

Violist, violinist and singer-songwriter Marla Hansen returns to Karaoke Kalk with "Salt", her second full-length album to date. Building upon the sonic palette the Berlin-based musician established with her debut "Dust" in 2020, "Salt" takes the delicate mixture of acoustic instruments such as viola, violin, piano and guitar combined with subtle electronics to the next level. The new album is both a remarkable departure and at the same time sheds a new yet reassuring light on Hansen's work and creativity. "Salt" features numerous collaborations with like-minded musicians and friends, e. g. producer and composer Simon Goff, The Notwist's drummer Andi Haberl and the renowned artist DM Stith.

The "Dust" has settled. After having recorded her solo debut of that name, in 2020 the world came to a grinding halt, leaving Marla Hansen left to her own devices in her adopted home of Berlin. For Hansen, who previously had lent her talent to many creative minds such as The National, Sufjan Stevens, The Hidden Cameras, Jay-Z and Ravi Coltrane, the collaborative aspect of writing and producing music had always played a crucial part in finding her own path as a solo artist.

"I started to explore synthesizers and electronic production myself," she remembers of the time when meeting other musicians in person was out of the question. "I am proud that I accomplished many of the electronic elements of the new album by myself, and otherwise laid the groundwork for the final electronic structures through my own experiments. I always wanted to record a 'big' record, one that has a lot of power and sound, and this one is 'bigger' than anything I have done so far."

"Salt" is big, indeed. The opener "Chains" is driven by a gliding bass line, bobbing 808 snares, deep chords and a mesmerizing chorus doubled by luscious strings, marking the beginning of a new chapter in her creative journey. A stark statement, both musically and lyrically. Meanwhile, the title track of the album is an almost abstract sounding ambient miniature, sketch-like, dark and haunting, showcasing Hansen's voice in a shy, brittle and fragile state. If This Mortal Coil/The Hope Blister were ever to record another album, these songs should be high up on the shortlist of tunes to pick. "The One Time" - a duet with Hansen's long-time friend DM Stith - gently meanders between a Philip Glass-inspired piece for chamber orchestra and a vocal ensemble performing on Top Of The Pops. In this range of styles and approaches, Hansen's vision is more present than ever.

For refining and finishing the songs, Hansen turned to Simon Goff, who produced the album and engineered much of the recording, merging Hansen's newly-found songwriting approach with the artistic delicacy which made her debut album an exceptional piece of work. Features include among others: Alice Dixon (Oriel Quartett) on cello, Kyle Resnick (The National, Beirut) on trumpet, Benjamin Lanz (The National, Beirut) on trombone and tuba, and Miles Perkin on bass. And then there is The Notwist's Andi Haberl, who "crafted perfect drum and percussion parts to move the songs wherever they needed to go, either into their driving grooves, slow-build explosions or gentle swells of feeling."

But what are songs actually about? "The themes revolve around a feeling of being trapped. Having to stay inside during the pandemic, with all the silence and stillness coming with it. Simultaneously, I was caught up in a professional situation that was not working for me, yet it required a lot of energy and time. I was thinking a lot about how to break old habits and patterns. Patterns in my life, patterns I saw my friends and loved-ones stuck in. There are a lot of ways that people can be trapped, and breaking out of that requires a lot of courage and energy - on all levels. The title 'Salt' seemed to fit, ocean themes showed up naturally in some of the songs, and I thought often about the quote: 'The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.' Maybe I was just dreaming of the ocean, since it was inaccessible for the first time! But I wanted a cure for this feeling of being trapped, in a time of uncertainty and anxiety, salt as a remedy seemed to have some truth in it: sweat, tears or the sea."

Perseverance and the urge for freedom prevailed in the end. "Salt" is a bold artistic achievement, with songs as big as the biggest waves imaginable. With melodies as alluring as the most comfortable breezes. Perfect from start to finish.

I see lucid blue flames moving before my eyes.
I hear voices melting. Voices somewhere from within.
Speaking words I do not know but feel connected to, almost as if I have known the meaning once..
Noises that obscures the multiple pictures hidden in these digital compositions.
Iku Sakan have created a set of five tracks that takes the listener on a
trip deep into the human psyché. Emotional flickering movements that twists and turns. The albums have a darker, much more intense feel than some of Ikus earlier magical and often hypnotic music. A myriad of different voices creates pulsing patterns and constantly morphing pictures for my inner eye. It's an album that might work as a hack to our lingual structures, pushing limits, pushing possibilities of meaning.

A pool of over-saturated information boils and out of the vapor new contours take form.
The magical and hypnotic is not gone, I still recognise the softer aspects of Ikus highly detailed hybrid sound design. But I no longer see where it takes me. It excites me. It feels like the world is expanding again, breathing. The sounds on the album asks us questions and points in several directions at once. In the shadows, weeds of lucid dreams grow deeper roots, reaching for my inner ear.

The faint sounds on the track Nature Morte reminds me of expeditions to the local witch house ruins as a child. Something almost not there, something felt. History, Memories and the connection between the two seems to have played a part in these compositions. Emotional reactions that plant reactions in other people, all around creating soft movements on the face of our planet.

Whether our collective psyché is an open field or an impenetrable dark forest, is of less concern with a key like Omnitopoeia, that works like an enhanced mirror, reflecting the dreams of the words we speak everyday, reflecting the emotional charges of significant places. Unrecognisable but still remembered.

Repress of the sold out Record Store Day release, this time on a different colour. Black Spiders – Those trusted and true sons of the north are back. “We knew the new album had to be special. We’ve been away for a while. The first album was a straight shot, the second on the rocks, with this new one we had to kick down the brewery doors!” Pete Spiby. Back in June of 2017, Sheffield rock beasts Black Spiders waved goodbye to an army of loyal fans with some sonically charged shows before retreating into the shadows. And then, in November of last year, with the world in the grips of the Coronavirus pandemic and after a long year of very little fun from out of the silhouettes they returned with ‘Fly In The Soup’, the first new Black Spiders music in 6 years. Exactly the feel-good shot in the arm the world needed, while we await that other vaccine. The seeds of the Black Spider return were actually planted last summer, when singer and guitarist Pete Spiby began taking to guitarist Ozzy Lister to start writing new material and before they knew it, they had amassed the best part of 40 songs in a very short period of time which they whittled down. And then the pandemic hit. “It’s certainly been a strange process, in unfamiliar territory,” explains Pete. “We started to look at how we could do it given the restrictions and not only that, but we had to replace our original drummer too. For us and probably most other bands, we would usually take a riff or song idea to a rehearsal and thrash it out ‘till we either had something or it ended up in the song graveyard! This time around we couldn’t do that, so myself, Ozzy and on occasion Adam Irwin (bass player) started to send ideas back and forth until we had something to work with in GarageBand. We got to a point where we had enough song ideas with basic structure to go into a studio. It was at this point when we had to look for a new drummer.” With former drummer ‘Tiger’ Si Atkinson unavailable to play, with a week or two of grooming, the band took a chance on Planet Rock DJ Wyatt Wendel to occupy the drum stool. “I've never joined or worked with a band in this way EVER,” laughs Wyatt. “2020 certainly made it surreal. “A Pete/Ozzy writing session at the beginning of the year had produced some promising results, but it felt like barriers were popping up everywhere,” explains bassist Adam Irwin. “We started talking about how we could use technology such as GarageBand to help, and slowly but surely the song writing gathered pace. It was time to hook up with our old producer Matt Elliss and try these new songs out in the studio. “Heading into the studio to record songs we’d written but never played together, with a drummer that we’d never met, is one of the stranger experiences I’ve had while being in a band. Thankfully, Wyatt has turned out to be an excellent addition, who despite his faults (loud, southern) has fit right into the band dynamic. Covid has made life really tough for so many of us in our industry. And yet, this new way of song writing has been liberating, this is the most consistent and prolific we’ve ever been, and I am immensely proud of this album.” Against all of the odds, Black Spiders have crafted an album that features 13 tracks of high-energy, feel-good rock n’roll contrasted by demonic doom that despite the disjointed, isolated way it was recorded. It sounds like a band, firing on all cylinders. “We had to dig down deep to pull out some gems and what would we want from Black Spiders,” questions Pete. War, vengeance, mental health, death, conservation & climate change, where are we from? Relationships, friendships, our flaws. Where are we going? Alien life and Mother Earth - some of which made the record.” Kicking off with the aforementioned ‘Fly In The Soup’ single, this 3rd ST long-player wastes no time in grabbing you by the scruff of the neck and dragging you through an album where good times, hooks and riffs are not in short supply, but the doom-drenched likes of ‘Wizard Shall Not Kill Wizard’ and the psychedelic groove of album closer ‘Crooked Black Wings’ give us an album of many moods and dynamics and a reason to be cheerful in 2021. And why does the album have no title? “It wasn’t hard picking a title for the album, as we decided that the focus should be on the band, not the album title, so we decided not to have one. Let the music do the talking....

Tallahassee, FL singer-songwriter Sarah Morrison's debut studio album
Attachment Figure depicts the strangeness of exploring new
relationships with subtle and spacious electronic production - As a
former live keyboardist in Locate S,1, Morrison co-produced Attachment
Figure with fellow bandmates Ross Brand and Clayton Rychlik, both of
whom also play in Of Montreal's backing band
She was motivated to experiment with looser song structures and more
unconventional chord progressions by her collaborators' fondness for avantgarde jazz, as well as Locate S,1 frontwoman Christina Schneider's idiosyncratic
writing style.
Throughout the album, echoing keys, woodwinds, and guitar ripple like a moonlit
lake from which Morrison's voice emerges. Her presence is spectral, yet
conversational, willing to conjure concrete imagery of mango- flavored vitamins
and the warmth of phone chargers alongside ghost stories of mannequin corpses
and epistolary curses, a balance shaped by an obsession with the theatrical
sincerity of Kate Bush and Mark Hollis.
Lyrically, Attachment Figure meditates on questions about identity, personal
growth, and helplessness - whether within a relationship or the oppressive
structures of society itself - often rooted in Morrison's experiences growing up in
the South. "There's a connection between Southern hospitality and femininity and
just allowing things to happen," Morrison says. "I've been in many relationships
with people who have used that 'southern charm' to their advantage. I think a lot
of people, non- men in particular, put on this charm instinctively. It's a defense
mechanism that I was interested in studying."
Attachment Figure is perpetually suspended between states of being, harmony
and dissonance, and contradictory sentiments we all hold as we enter into the
arms of someone new, but ultimately, it's guided by a desire for authentic love--
and a flair for intricate, intuitive songcraft.