Search:structural form

Joe Fujinoki centered the compositions of his latest album Glass Torso round the idea of the fragility of the human body. Fujinoki described the narrative thread of the album as that of “holding the shape of a human body as if it might shatter like glass”. The precariousness of the body, the essence of the body as defined by Fujinoki as the torso, and the object relations between the boundaries of dialectical exercises pack themselves into his creative process.

Fujinoki recorded Glass Torso exclusively with analog synthesizers, stumbling in and out of structural loops to find space for accidental discoveries. The ten pieces of recorded material feel somewhere on the edge of typified form, feeling like a vascular system pumping in and out its undulating liquidities. Maybe this is the hollowed space held together by Fujinoki’s notion of the torso where you hear a microscopic world, dubby and generative. Fujinoki is adept at organizing this realm of subtle sound sources, giving proper considerations of shared tonal space. Seemingly, this handling of the precarity of sonic material elucidates Fujinoki’s mature attention to detail.

Ambient music genre tropes often affirm the listeners vessel for escape and dissociation. It provides an intoxicating allure by respite from an overwhelming exterior reality far outside the listeners controls. Here this space becomes apolitical, or its protest vocabulary softer and subtle. Fujinoki does not aim to tackle hyperobject topics on how to course correct the world, but he does something increasingly rarer to come across. On Glass Torso an alternative space is created not as shelter, but as a meditation on negotiation and compromise. This twenty eight minutes of audio lays down a foundation for imagination, for imagining how to negotiate the fragility of the self. Zoomed out, the implications of his negotiative sonics can be a playground for broader reflections on distributive care and attention.

Fujinoki says he feels “alert” to his physicality and placement in the world amidst vast digital cultures creating impositions on him and his surroundings. On Glass Torso he creates a concretized space on a vinyl record, where the virtual and the tangible antagonize one another that create the spectacle of the listening experience. This spectacle is a soft one, a considered one, and an utmost enjoyable one. Fujinoki juggles opposing forces brilliantly, and formulates an exquisite palette of soft passing music so he can also help the listener with the exquisite burden of their own Glass Torso.”

- Nick Klein, January 2026

Hanne Lippard and Renato Grieco's Today's Special is a suite of language works synthesising melody and diction that integrates the literary and the audible in a repertoire of songs that bask in the melody of voice and the punctuations of structured composition. Working with methods of reduction rather than opulence in both tonal composition and rhetoric, each piece pegs the poetic to the musical with compositional schematics and methods. It is important to state that there is little to none improvisation here, instead, the duo set up matrices, rules and structural links that facilitated meaningful locus of exchange between their two practices. Lippard's texts are a collection of new and previously completed works. In these, as is typical for her work, she enjoys the easy pleasure of wordplay, iterative language, and decontextualised anecdote, as in opener Portrait of a Betrayal, a piece about the loss of a phone and the way it haunted the owner who dropped it, based on a lived experience. Grieco's instrumentation works with Lippard's language art as a form of acoustic typography. "I studied graphic design and I think about how you can express typography through voice," she says. "Renato's use of the viola da gamba becomes like an underline, or a font's brushstrokes, in ways that feel typographical." In this, the classically-trained composer Grieco often finds and echoes the pitch movements of Lippard's voice, intonation mirrored and revealed, linguistic meaning doubled and shadowed by plucked, strummed or bowed strings. His main instrument is the viola da gamba, the instrument considered closest to the human voice for its tonal range and ability to mimic inflections and timbre, and here he brings it even closer to the voice, building systems by which it moves with and around Lippard. He also plays piano and Wurlitzer, and joins her in speaking on Receiver and in conversation for final track The Black Rose. "Hanne's voice is an artist's voice, embodied as the artwork itself," he says. "But where my approach is from the perspective of a composer, hers is around rhetoric and language. We worked towards each other in this sense, Hanne finding a space to welcome my voice, and me designing an acoustic space to enhance her vocal persona." In some tracks the structural connections are obvious - the matched tumbling delivery and stepped pitches of voice and piano in Aficionado sounding like two tipsy friends descending a staircase. In others, like the triptych of tracks Three Rungs Ladder, structured with rules derived from nursery rhymes, or cumulative song (akin to the 12 Days of Christmas). For the Colour 1 and Colour 2 pieces, the duo worked from palettes of colours connected to clusters of harmonies, which underlined the power of the word and its articulation. The absurd Labradorable personifies a people pleaser, A Story About Being Blue is an imagined playful monologue from the Deep Blue supercomputer - requesting in sing-song stop motion to be called Debbie, and Larry - as Grieco echoes in factual reportage. Hurtbeat unpacks and recomposes a tweeted non-apology by a Russian art collector about owning a piece of racist art, Grieco shadowing Lippard's generating a third `drop-shadow' performer from the resonances between the duo, typographic re-articulation of the source material. The Receiver includes lines from Robert Ashley's Improvement (Don Leaves Linda), Ashley existing as a spiritual parent of sorts to the practices contained on Today's Special, and here interpolated as if he is being quoted and written through within the audible world of the piece in a palimpsest of borrowed sentences. Closing track The Black Rose contains its own self-aware comedy, a lightly distorted conversation sourced from a Reddit thread about whether black roses exist, recorded as if it were an internet radio or a low budget podcast, the casual exchange stilted in the delivery of platitudes as scripted speech. Today's Special was developed in person over the course of a series of small residencies - at Deutsche Akademie Rom Villa Massimo, Rome; Fondazione Morra, Napoli; Callie's, Berlin. In these limited periods that rarely stretched beyond a week, Lippard and Grieco developed strategies for the works, keeping tightly locked to musical concepts. This, for Grieco, is about maintaining a solid, meaningful connection within the compositions, and committing to everything having a purpose for existing within the work. Each element pulls its weight; has something to say, literally and metaphorically speaking. In the same way that Lippard's work leaves nowhere for her to hide, he wants the music to exist with its own naked purpose: "It's is about exposing nudity via reduced materials," says Grieco. "This is a form of courage we want to embrace. Once we take off everything, it needs to be extremely precise to maintain a connection with the audience. We have a lot of tools to hide behind now, to protect ourselves and our identities as artists, performers, and in life more generally. It's something I don't want to do. I want extreme reduction: no hiding."

TECH043 brings A.B.E.L. and Eluna Vex together through a shared sense of rhythm and purpose.

Both authors have already developed a clear and confident approach, even if wider recognition has yet to catch up. Their music is ready to reach beyond the circles that already know their work.

Across both sides of the record, firm drums, driving percussion and deep atmosphere keep the motion steady. Each track has its own shape and detail, while the shared weight and mood allow the four tracks to be heard as one complete work. DJs get four reliable cuts that can build tension, hold the groove or move a set forward without a break in tone.

The difference between the artists is clear, but never disruptive. Eluna Vex and A.B.E.L. bring separate ideas to the record, yet their tracks feel closely related in character, depth and attitude. This balance gives TECH043 range without losing focus: two artists and one consistent physical drive.

A1. “Unsafe Road” opens the record by setting its rules: full pressure, forward drive and several lines developing at once. It tests the listener’s attention, offering a choice between following the whole structure or focusing on one thread within it.

A2. “Getting Away” works like a spell that pulls the dancefloor together. It follows one clear narrative and a direct sequence of events, building towards a climax where every element lands as one shared impulse.

B1. “Test And Run” opens a more exploratory side of the record. It moves through changing forms and gradually reveals its language, without showing the full picture at once. Structurally complete on its own, the track invites the listener into less predictable territory.

B2. “Subconscious” is built on balance, giving equal weight to every part of the sound without allowing one element to take control. It makes no loud statement, but closes the record with a complete and carefully held form.

Second chapter in the Alkaline series. Five electro cuts and one techno excursion, crafted by two artists with decades of dedication to electronic music.

On Side A, Raakel Bloody Raakel brings decades of discipline and formal training into a sharp, uncompromising sound. Active since the late 90s and rooted in both classical education and underground culture, his work reflects precision, intensity and structural control.

On Side B, Roi delivers three focused electro pieces forged through years of experimentation and dancefloor experience. His approach blends coherence, tension and forward motion, driven by a continuous commitment to evolving the language of electronic music.

Two trajectories. One alkaline framework. Built for those who understand the craft.

Cosmic Tribe · Research & Development in Sound.

Move in Stereo: The Cars’ Eponymous Debut Album Functions as a Greatest-Hits Set with Classics Such as "You're All I've Got Tonight," "Good Times Roll," and "Just What I Needed"
Experience the Six-Times-Platinum Record in Definitive Sound on
Mobile Fidelity’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP Box Set:
Strictly Limited to 4,000 Numbered Copies,
It Plays with Reference Definition and Presence
1/4” / 15 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe.

Among the most critically and commercially successful debuts in history, the Cars' eponymous album doubles as a greatest-hits collection. Not one song on it is widely unrecognized or unknown. Consider the list: "You're All I've Got Tonight." "Good Times Roll." "Just What I Needed." "Moving in Stereo." "My Best Friend's Girl." "Don't Cha Stop." “Bye Bye Love.” Just call The Cars the best new-wave rock album ever made. And a natural candidate for preservation on a Mobile Fidelity UltraDisc One-Step pressing.

Sourced from the original analog tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, mastered by engineer Krieg Wunderlich, and strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, MoFi’s UD1S 180g 45RPM 2LP box set presents the six-time platinum record in the most vivid, wide-spanning, three-dimensional sound it has enjoyed on vinyl. Compared to the label’s outstanding and out-of-print 180g 33RPM version, this collectible edition features richer textures, broader openness, greater presence, and bigger dynamics.

Benefitting from the extra groove space on 45RPM by playing with enhanced definition, deep-black backgrounds, and ultra-quiet surfaces, this reissue portrays the band’s oscillating rhythms, futuristic keyboard passages, and panned images with stunning realism. Songs take on an absolutely surreal quality. The Cars and producer Roy Thomas Baker manipulate arrangements at will to mesmerize listeners' senses. The concept of "moving in stereo” has likely never been truer.

The industry-leading packaging of the UD1S set gives fans another reason to gravitate towards the 1978 album. A deluxe slipcase, two foil-stamped jackets, faithful-to-the-original graphics, and MoFi inner sleeves make for a premium tactile experience. It invites you to immerse yourself in everything about the record, including the now-familiar cover art depicting Nataliya Medvedeva behind the wheel. Enhanced by her glistening ruby-red lips, her face flashes an expression caught between surprise, ecstasy, and disbelief — an apropos way of responding to The Cars whether you’re hearing it for the first or 1,115th time.

Introduced in 2024 into the National Recording Registry for its significance, and ranked the 353rd Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, The Cars explodes with emotion, energy, and hooks. Its songs unite then-disparate styles: bubblegum melodies, art-rock angularity, progressive structuralism, terse minimalism, and power-pop sheen. The stylish arrangements also benefit from a laidback cool and understated irony that remain uncommon in the world of contemporary mainstream music.

Equally rare is the deep chemistry the members shared before they entered London’s AIR Studios and knocked out the record in less than a month. Benjamin Orr and Ric Ocasek began their first band together in the early ‘70s. A subsequent group with future Cars keyboardist Greg Hawke preceded Orr and Ocasek bonding further by temporarily performing as a duo. One final pre-Cars ensemble, Cap’n Swing, brought guitarist Elliot Easton into the fold. A decision by Ocasek to take the band in a rock direction, a crucial lineup shuffle, and a name change begat the Cars so many listeners know and love.

Already a going concern in Boston, the quintet cut its teeth and woodshopped songs for nearly a year and a half before signing with Elektra and partnering with Baker. The Cars enjoyed success right out of the gate, hitting No. 18 on the Billboard Top 200 chart and netting a pair of Top 40 singles in the form of “Just What I Needed” and deceptively happy “My Best Friend’s Girl.” The sarcastic “Good Times Roll” climbed to No. 41, but soon enough, almost every track on The Cars became a radio staple — an honor far more meaningful than chart positions.

Obsessed with incorporating the latest technologies and sounds into its palette, the band spiced tunes with delightful and quirky accents — country-tinged guitar fills, echoing Syndrums, reggae splashes, hard-rock tones, robotic pulses. Orr's low, nuanced deliveries and Ocasek's cool, detached vocals lend shades of doubt and double meaning to the lyrics, which are further counterbalanced by synthesizer flourishes and electronic beats.

Accessible and eccentric, edgy and catchy: The results comprise a landmark whose characters come to vivid life with nuclear boots, dry-drip gloves, ribbon-festooned coiffures, suede-blue eyes, and rock ‘n’ roll hair. It's practically impossible to avoid humming along to every song, all enhanced by Baker's stellar production. Best known for his work with Queen, he ensured the record packed a punchy midrange, opened up with instrumental and vocal separation, and breathed with airy harmonies.

Indeed, from the timeless music to the sleek production and sonic restoration, The Cars on UD1S is just what you needed.

Straddling an intriguing intersection of Drum & Bass, Jazz, Fusion and unidentifiable electronica, ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is the debut album from Jhauk.

An extremely talented multi-instrumentalist from Sheffield, UK, Jhauk came to Blu Mar Ten’s attention when, in 2017, he created a wild prog-rock inflected remix of BMT’s track ‘Titans’
Further conversations with Jhauk revealed the depth of his unorthodox approach to electronic music and unearthed a treasure trove of production skills, culminating in the album before you.

Oscillating between the late-night, moody calm of late 50s Miles Davis, John Coltrane & Bill Evans, the riotous 70s instrumentation of Weather Report, the modern cool stylings of Matthew Halsall and the gritty edges of modern D&B production, it’s scarcely believable that this collection of tracks came from one person working alone in their studio. With tempos and time signatures skittering all over the place, Jhauk uses genres as catalysts rather than containers, he finds the interesting stuff in the hinterlands of their structural relationships and tensions. 

Talking about the album, Jhauk has strong opinions:

“Drum & Bass emerged as club music, and club music comes with its own logic. Specific structures, specific build-ups, a formula that supports that context. 
That's fair enough, but almost 40 years later, why is 99% of D&B still made the exact same way when 99% of the time it's never heard in a club? The same structure, the same formula, barely any development beyond the core idea. Tracks where you can hear 10 seconds of the drop and know almost beat-for-beat how the next 5 minutes sound. No real musical depth or exploration. People regurgitating the same material ad-nauseum but never actually saying anything for themselves. 
This period of composition for me was about taking what I love about D&B, the rhythmic energy and potential for creative freedom it presents and really stretching it to its limits. Of taking drum & bass as a starting point and seeing where it ends up without an idea of what that destination might be. Most people would probably never call a lot of the results D&B, but that's okay because it was never the point.”

 
Dripping with melancholy, euphoria, longing and pure urgency ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is unlike anything else you’ll hear this year. The sound of an artist entirely unconcerned with impressing peers or performing on ‘socials’; you're hearing a true musician at work, expressing ideas through the skill of his hands, mind and ears. The album’s secrets aren’t revealed with a single play-through, but bears (or even requires) multiple listens to expose its layers.
In previous times, they called this ‘art'.

Straddling an intriguing intersection of Drum & Bass, Jazz, Fusion and unidentifiable electronica, ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is the debut album from Jhauk.

An extremely talented multi-instrumentalist from Sheffield, UK, Jhauk came to Blu Mar Ten’s attention when, in 2017, he created a wild prog-rock inflected remix of BMT’s track ‘Titans’
Further conversations with Jhauk revealed the depth of his unorthodox approach to electronic music and unearthed a treasure trove of production skills, culminating in the album before you.

Oscillating between the late-night, moody calm of late 50s Miles Davis, John Coltrane & Bill Evans, the riotous 70s instrumentation of Weather Report, the modern cool stylings of Matthew Halsall and the gritty edges of modern D&B production, it’s scarcely believable that this collection of tracks came from one person working alone in their studio. With tempos and time signatures skittering all over the place, Jhauk uses genres as catalysts rather than containers, he finds the interesting stuff in the hinterlands of their structural relationships and tensions. 

Talking about the album, Jhauk has strong opinions:

“Drum & Bass emerged as club music, and club music comes with its own logic. Specific structures, specific build-ups, a formula that supports that context. 
That's fair enough, but almost 40 years later, why is 99% of D&B still made the exact same way when 99% of the time it's never heard in a club? The same structure, the same formula, barely any development beyond the core idea. Tracks where you can hear 10 seconds of the drop and know almost beat-for-beat how the next 5 minutes sound. No real musical depth or exploration. People regurgitating the same material ad-nauseum but never actually saying anything for themselves. 
This period of composition for me was about taking what I love about D&B, the rhythmic energy and potential for creative freedom it presents and really stretching it to its limits. Of taking drum & bass as a starting point and seeing where it ends up without an idea of what that destination might be. Most people would probably never call a lot of the results D&B, but that's okay because it was never the point.”

 
Dripping with melancholy, euphoria, longing and pure urgency ‘You Won't Find Your Way From Here’ is unlike anything else you’ll hear this year. The sound of an artist entirely unconcerned with impressing peers or performing on ‘socials’; you're hearing a true musician at work, expressing ideas through the skill of his hands, mind and ears. The album’s secrets aren’t revealed with a single play-through, but bears (or even requires) multiple listens to expose its layers.
In previous times, they called this ‘art'.

For their fourteenth installment, FELT look once again to their city of Copenhagen, specifically to more alumni of the Rytmisk Musik Konservatorium (Rhythmic Music Conservatory). Following soon after Ginte Preisaite’s debut for the label, this long player from Vincent Yuen Ruiz is a grand departure from Preisaite’s experimental electroacoustic pop compositions, instead offering an elegant and pensive suite of late-night, wide-eyed ambient jazz works centred on piano, double bass and percussion; “I seek a dramaturgy of restraint, where silence, space, and collective attention become structural elements of the music.” (Yuen Ruiz)

Originally forming in Copenhagen in 2019, the group's language sits at the crossroads of contemporary jazz, improvised music, and experimental sound practice and deploys a non-hierarchical collective approach. Taking harmonic cues from Bach and Ravel but expanded into a dialogue between players that is repetitive, spacious and informed by minimalism as much as ECM chamber styles, the resultant four pieces move between precise formal structural rules and spontaneous improvisation. Silence and restraint is as important a device as timbre and unity. The group are concerned with dispelling the traditional jazz trio model, e.g. three unique displays of virtuosity, instead exploring how each player may help add to the overall emotive atmosphere the use of ambient space provides. To borrow a quote regarding the hard to classify music of Czech duo Irena & Vojtěch Havlovi, this interplay strikes at times like the shadows contrasting with the light.

More intimate than Yuen Ruiz’s Le seul salut que je connaisse (2021), an album recorded with a 6-musicians ensemble, this latest album Trio continues the composer’s research and moves towards a more focused, condensed writing style and a clear statement of intent.

All music by Vincent Yuen Ruiz

There are records that do not so much belong to an era as they pass through it, leaving traces rather than statements, circulating in the margins where function outweighs discourse. World Cup, written at the end of the 1990s by Kiko, emerged in precisely that way — as a techno track whose presence was felt less through promotion than through repetition, carried from booth to booth, absorbed into the working vocabulary of DJs who recognized in it something immediate and self-evident. Its architecture is minimal yet insistent, driven by tension and release, a form of clarity that resists ornament and instead privileges duration, pressure, and movement.

When it resurfaced in 2006, it did not return as a revision but as a continuation, reaffirming its role within the ecology of the dancefloor. The same internal logic remained intact, allowing it to re-enter circulation without friction, as though it had simply been waiting to be picked up again. In both instances, the track operates less as a fixed object than as a tool — something to be used, extended, and recontextualized in real time.

Bringing together these two versions alongside Tainted Life, the release traces a subtle but telling trajectory. If World Cupdefines a certain techno functionalism, Tainted Life reveals another dimension: a proto-Italo sensibility that gestures toward what would later coalesce as electroclash, not through stylistic declaration but through texture, tone, and attitude. Long absent from digital circulation and largely confined to obscurity, it appears here not as a rediscovery, but as a piece whose relevance has simply remained latent.

Nothing has been added, nothing has been altered beyond what was necessary to restore presence. The recordings are allowed to exist in their own continuity, detached from the temporal markers that might otherwise confine them.

The artwork, conceived by H5, extends this approach into the visual field. Its restraint is not aesthetic minimalism for its own sake, but a form of structural clarity, where composition and absence articulate a space in which the record can be encountered without interference, as if resurfacing from a parallel timeline that never fully closed.

As WARNING prepares to release Rituals of Shame - their first new music in twenty years,vocalist/guitarist Patrick Walker is self-effacing about what led to this moment. Over the last two decades he continued to write and release music, satisfied that he had achieved what he set out to do with WARNING. In those intervening years, interest in WARNING swelled, organically gathering an ardent fanbase. In particular, the 2006 album, Watching from a Distance, has gained a cult following. In response to a transformative period in his life, Walker turned towards writing new songs, and it soon became apparent that these belonged to WARNING. In early January 2025, he started with a completely blank canvas, and piece by piece, he started to fill it with ideas that evolved to become the songs that make up Rituals of Shame.

His immersion in the project became a full-time pursuit. After successfully demoing the five songs, Walker retreated to a remote house on a hill outside Florence, Italy, to refine the lyrics. Recording took place at The Arch Studio, a 140-year-old former church in Southport, UK. Chris Fullard (Idles, Sunn O))), Ulver) handled the recording and mixing. Walker's lifelong musical inspirations can be traced through Rituals of Shame. The ambitious structural arrangements harken to Marillion’s complex but soaring episodic songs. They retain a sparsity that is reminiscent of June Tabor’s economic arrangements; thick with melody but with a diaphanous air to them. Citing John Brenner of Revelation as an enduring inspiration, Patrick credits him with introducing the idea of how to infuse heavy music with significant emotional depth. Often reluctant to discuss the minutiae of his lyrics, Walker does acknowledge that making this album was a direct response to the immediate concerns of his current life period. Rituals of Shame also echoes the enduring themes and fixations that have marked most of his work: guilt, shame, personal failure, obsession, longing, and separation, but, most of all, he says, love. Short: WARNING return with Rituals of Shame - the pioneering Doom band's first new music in 20 years! FFO: My Dying Bride, Candlemass, YOB, Black Sabbath, 40 Watt Sun, Pallbearer, Pagan Altar

As the so-called “Latin boom” becomes a new anchor for hard-swung club sounds, it is crucial to recognize that the region’s musical culture extends far beyond dembow edits and the pop-trap hybrids that have edged into the mainstream. Monterrey-born, New York City-based producer and DJ Delia Beatriz, aka Debit, returns to NAAFI with Potpourri, a generous and kinetic collection of dancefloor-oriented tracks filled with percussive flourishes, squelching 303 basslines, and rhythmic mutations that actively challenge the status quo. Rather than rebuilding “Latin sounds” as a fixed category, the album rethinks their internal logic, tracing the evolution of techno and house in cities like Detroit, Chicago, and New York alongside parallel innovations emerging in Mexico, Colombia, and across the wider Latin world. Positioned on the bridge between Mexico and the US, Potpourri does not seek synthesis as a gesture of smooth fusion, but as a site of disruption.

The album can be heard as a loose follow-up to System (2018), Debit’s NAAFI-released EP that expanded the sonic potential of tribal guarachero through triplet-driven rhythms, industrial pressure, and noisy reconstruction. Potpourri retains guaracha as a structural backbone while drawing further influence from veteran DJ and producer Javier Estrada—who also appeared on System—and particularly from his fast-paced, nonlinear style of mixing. That approach becomes a formal principle here: canonical structures are dismantled, repetition is avoided, and tracks evolve without sacrificing propulsion. Coming after the introspective temporal inquiry of Desaceleradas and the speculative historical acoustics of The Long Count, Potpourri arrives as a deliberate surge of energy. As Beatriz explains: “It’s a manifesto for rethinking form and sound in dance music. By stepping outside traditional structures and embracing the potpourri approach, I’m creating new meaning with familiar rhythms. I’ve also been applying this to my DJ sets, using it as a tool to break free from established norms and explore new narrative possibilities.”

Years in the making, Potpourri imagines an alternate timeline in which the psychedelic squelch of acid—echoing pioneers such as DJ Pierre and Mr. Fingers—and the dub-inflected atmospheres of Basic Channel entered into direct and sustained contact with Latin American club mutations. Those references are legible, but never merely quoted. Instead, they are folded into syncopated hi-hats, overdriven kicks, and unstable arrangements that absorb both the intensity of the parties Beatriz remembers from Monterrey and the abrasive edge she sharpened at DIY noise shows in New England. The result is unmistakably a dancefloor record—heard in tracks as forceful as “Pero like” and the peak-time pressure of “tuvesuerte”—but one saturated with grotesque, psychedelic atmospheres, where sounds dissolve into hoarse croaks, acidic smears, and anxiety-inducing growls. Here, the rave becomes not simply a site of release, but a platform for navigating identity, hybridity, and artistic formation across borders. Moving through peaks and ruptures, Potpourri reveals a party narrative that is not linear but multidimensional.

By folding together the fluidity of DJ culture, the experimental charge of acid, and the rhythmic vitality of guaracha, Potpourri proposes a space of formal and political innovation within Latin America’s rapidly expanding electronic music landscape. It is a record that refuses containment, pushing against the templates through which Latin electronic music is often consumed, and insisting instead on friction, instability, and transformation as generative conditions for the dancefloor.

2026 Repress

SK_eleven celebrates a decade of sonic exploration with a 13-track compilation showcasing its signature tension, technical discipline, and stylistic spectrum. Reuniting a tight circle of artists whose contributions have helped shape the label, the release offers an unrelenting sequence of pressure, mental twists, and textural collisions; a multifaceted snapshot of techno's enduring capacity to evolve, disturb, and seduce.

The compilation resists uniformity. Instead, it thrives on contrast: tension versus release, density against spaciousness, rhythm in all its permutations. From high-energy metallic openers and dub-inflected body rollers, to disorienting, delay-heavy experiments and stripped-back percussive tools, each contribution reveals a unique grip on groove and detail. Some tracks move like engineered machines: sharp, robotic, and syncopated to surgical precision. Others embrace sensuality and unpredictability, exploring spatial motion, layered harmonic friction, and states of controlled chaos. Each piece acts as a structural component in a larger sonic architecture, where tension is built, collapsed, and rebuilt. Friction becomes a form of choreography. Across the record, a shifting palette of emotional mechanisms takes form; granular and magnetic, haunting and quietly forceful, restrained, then disruptive.

More than a retrospective, SK_eleven's first compilation becomes a collective gesture toward techno's unresolved possibilities: its ability to hold contradiction, remain in flux, and mutate without conclusion.

A Sudden Burst of Noise is a study in equivalence between rotational frequency, material structure and sonic form. The album is based on sonified pulsar data and field recordings captured at a concrete radiotelescope located in the Eifel region of West Germany.

Following the core concept of BRUTALISM, architecture and infrastructure are not treated as backdrop but as structural agents. The radiotelescope – its reinforced concrete body, rotational mechanics and scientific function – serves as compositional framework. Rotational movement becomes rhythm. Structural tension becomes texture.
Measured cosmic data becomes sound.

The source material consists of astronomical measurement data translated into sound, combined with field recordings from the site itself: interacting with exposed concrete, mechanical resonance and electromagnetic presence. Dornen and Lomi process these elements into compositions that oscillate between abstraction and physical density.

The result is not a documentary representation of the site but a sonic architecture derived from it. Each track reflects a structural component: axis, mirror, descent, radiation. The record unfolds as a sequence of material states – from reduction and
erosion to rotation and amplification.

With A Sudden Burst of Noise, BRUTALISM continues its transformation of material, texture and structure into sonic forms. The vinyl format captures our site-specific research process as a physical object.

Syncretic marks the debut full-length from Australian duo Bhairavi Raman, a Western and Carnatic violinist, and Nanthesh Sivarajah, a mridangam player and versatile percussionist. Both artists share a Tamil heritage, a current that hums across the album. Raman, from South India, and Sivarajah, from Sri Lanka, draw lines that connect Western practice and Carnatic tradition. This hybrid is central to Raman’s approach as a violinist, an instrument itself caught between East and West since the late 18th century. Her playing folds history, lineage and experimentation into music that acknowledges inheritance while gently rewiring its circuitry.

Expanding on traditional music can be a precarious practice, but Syncretic never feels heavy-handed. Raman and Sivarajah exercise measured restraint, letting the Carnatic framework breathe even as it is refracted through contemporary tools. Delays, looping, subtle layering and synthesized harmonies tilt tradition into a new light without disguising it.

Even within a contemporary framework, Raman’s rigorous Carnatic training under gurus Sri S. Varadarajan (India), Sri Murali Kumar (Australia) and Sri Gopinath Iyer (Australia) is unmistakable. She captures the spiritual and emotional essence of each raga: on Seven, the playful raga Bahudari becomes both centrepiece and conduit, while on the traditional piece Thunbam Nergayil, drawn from a Tamil poem, we hear a deeply personal iteration, a weeping euphony of mixed emotions hitting all at once. Tradition here is absorbed, expanded and reframed.

Sivarajah’s command of the mridangam, honed by his gurus Sri Jambunathan (Sri Lanka), Sri Balasri Rasiah (Australia) and Sri T. R. Sundaresan (India), is central to his original composition Guardian. He sustains tradition while extending it through layering and sound-spatialisation. The mridangam here functions as both a structural and ornamental force, mapping continuity between inherited form and contemporary sonic architecture.

Syncretic resonates as a space where Tamil heritage, diasporic memory and contemporary practice coalesce. Culture, like sound, circulates, transforms and persists. Tradition is not an archive but living material, a soundworld that lingers in the ears and the imagination.

Emptyset present ash — a new collection of sound experiments developed over the last three years and assembled in Bristol during summer 2023.

The work draws on the project's roots in structural percussion and physical sonics, employing spatialised recording techniques and an array of analogue hardware,evoking the transformative and sculptural properties of sound.

The release marks a return for the collaborative duo of James Ginzburg and Paul Purgas, following Ginzburg's work within the exploratory performance group Osmium and Purgas' extensive research into the history of India's first electronic music studio. It brings them back to Bristol where the project first began, channeling the echoes of the city's sound system culture and resonant musical continuum, anchoring their sound within its formative origins.

Launching on October 20th through Subtext Recordings as the 50th release for the label, there will be a series of live shows including Berlin Atonal on September 16th and London's Village Underground on November 5th, their first live show in the city in over a decade. Emptyset will also be bringing together a special day of sound and performance across multiple venues in Bristol planned for Spring 2024.

Blume returns to James Tenney's Postal Pieces with a second volume: the three Swell Pieces and Koan, written for Alison Knowles, Pauline Oliveros, La Monte Young and Malcolm Goldstein, on vinyl for the first time from one of the key suites of 20th Century avant-garde music.

In 1970, James Tenney (1934-2006) reversed the entropy of his own life and went west. After spending the majority of the post-war years at the centre of cultural ferment in New York, he accepted a position at the newly inaugurated California Institute of the Arts (CalArts), alongside Allan Kaprow, Simone Forti, John Baldessari, Nam June Paik, Alison Knowles, Morton Subotnick, Harold Budd and Charlemagne Palestine. While the move began an enduring period of relative obscurity, Tenney quietly remained one of the most distinct and groundbreaking composers of his generation, producing a remarkably focused body of work inquiring after the elemental character and perception of sound.

Among the most celebrated of his efforts are the Postal Pieces, a suite of eleven compositions completed in 1971. Citing his strong dislike of writing letters, Tenney sent his friends short scores on the back of postcards. The eleven pieces are composed around three themes: his concept of swell form (utilizing repetition and progressing through a structurally symmetrical arch), intonation, and the desire to produce "meditative perceptual states."

Composed for a group of friends - the visual artist Alison Knowles, the composers Pauline Oliveros and La Monte Young, and the composer and violinist Malcolm Goldstein - the four works on this second volume are intimate, poetic and discreet. They were written roughly contemporaneously with the formation of minimalism by many of Tenney's closest friends, and share its elements of chance, durational tone, repetition and constraint, but they approach them on different terms, anticipating the more complex forms of post-minimalism. Rooted in gestalt theory, they are music in which the composer almost entirely disappears, offering greater attention to the artists to whom they were sent and to the subjective experience of the listener.

A student of Carl Ruggles, John Cage, Harry Partch and Edgard Varèse, an active member of Fluxus, a pioneer of computer music at Bell Labs and a collaborator of Carolee Schneemann, Tenney represents a winding thread connecting the entire history of American avant-garde and experimental music. The second collection by Blume attending to the Postal Pieces, recorded by The Barton Workshop under the direction of James Fulkerson, follows the long sold-out first volume (BLUME 022). It comes with exact replicas of the original postcard graphic scores and newly commissioned liner notes by Bradford Bailey.

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

PUREST FORM pulls visceral dance-punk music from modern-day angst and unrest. The newly formed Los Angeles trio—vocalist Story Beeson, guitarist/programmer Madi Woodward, and bassist Riley Oikawa-Dahlson—draws on their respective backgrounds in hardcore bands and a shared love of industrial and techno, splicing the intensely heavy with the playful and sensual.

RESISTANCE, their debut with Dais Records, delivers a potent, six-track anarchist assault on the system, fueled by collective anger amidst late-stage capitalism and a year of nonstop trauma in Los Angeles, from the fires to ICE.
RESISTANCE builds on the promise of their self-titled 2024 EP, a sonic blueprint that Stereogum likened to Nine Inch Nails' Broken. RESISTANCE is more agile and charged-up, a cataclysmic set with structural jumps and hard left turns, confronting sonic and societal constructs. Serrated riffs meet fractured breakbeats, basslines, and body-quaking feedback, with nods to death metal and acid house in equal measure, all punctuated by Beeson's urgent, anthemic narration, often shouted to near shreds.

For the first time ever, Los Campesinos! are proud to offer new pressings of their first three studio albums on their very own record label; Heart Swells.
2026 marks the 20th anniversary of LC!’s formation, and coincides with the band being more popular and relevant than ever before. The 3 albums are available for the first time since 2020, on brand new colour ways, on 12” vinyl and CD, with updated artwork and packaging.

What the press said:

“an absolutely astounding album” 4.5/5 - DIY

“Romance Is Boring is a triumph.” - 8.3/10 - Pitchfork

“The fact that the seven-piece manage to make music that is as orchestrated and coherent as it is invigorating is only one of the few astonishing things about them.” - 9/10 Popmatters

“What primarily sets ‘Romance Is Boring’ up as a significant step forward is that it’s incredibly structurally cohesive, and yet blows anything they’ve previously released out of the water in terms of textural intricacy, technical prowess and general experimentation.” - 4/5 NME

or the first time ever, Los Campesinos! are proud to offer new pressings of their first three studio albums on their very own record label; Heart Swells.
2026 marks the 20th anniversary of LC!’s formation, and coincides with the band being more popular and relevant than ever before. The 3 albums are available for the first time since 2020, on brand new colour ways, on 12” vinyl and CD, with updated artwork and packaging.

What the press said:

“an absolutely astounding album” 4.5/5 - DIY

“Romance Is Boring is a triumph.” - 8.3/10 - Pitchfork

“The fact that the seven-piece manage to make music that is as orchestrated and coherent as it is invigorating is only one of the few astonishing things about them.” - 9/10 Popmatters

“What primarily sets ‘Romance Is Boring’ up as a significant step forward is that it’s incredibly structurally cohesive, and yet blows anything they’ve previously released out of the water in terms of textural intricacy, technical prowess and general experimentation.” - 4/5 NME

SEKTION's debut full-length DRUCK marks the first official collaboration between AtomTM & Siegmar Fricke, a connection rooted in 1992. Released by Geometrik Records, the label of industrial legend Esplendor Geométrico, in collaboration with Munster Records. Across thirteen interconnected tracks, DRUCK builds a stereo-enlarged environment shaped by metallic textures, rhythmic granulations and slow-moving structural shifts. Drawn from the compositional frameworks VOKOSTASIS, DIGITRAKTION, LEERZEICHEN, and UNWUCHT, the album unfolds as a continuum of mechano-sonic morphing. Fragments of frequency-altered voices emerge like damaged transmissions, woven into grain sliced rhythms, microsound detail, and layers of rusty tape noise and electro-acoustic particles. Tension and friction gradually push the material toward fragmentation without collapse. A formidable and immersive act of sonic engineering. German musician AtomTM (Uwe Schmidt) is one of the most imaginative and prolific talents in the global electronic music scene in recent decades. Since 1988, he has released music on cult labels such as Raster-Noton, Sähko, Mille Plateaux, Rough Trade, Rephlex, Fax, and his own label, Rather Interesting, under countless aliases. As producer, remixer and collaborator he has worked with and for musicians such as Ryuichi Sakamoto, Yellow Magic Orchestra, Depeche Mode, Towa Tei, Merzbow, Bill Laswell, Esplendor Geométrico, just to name a few. Uwe has developed an innovative, unconventional and highly personal musical vision, interpreting a wide variety of genres and styles in his own unique way, such as experimental music, techno, acid, EBM, electrolatino, ambient or industrial music, amongst others. Siegmar Fricke is a German artist starting with experiments involving short-waves and acoustic noises in the field between musique concrete and post-industrial around 1981. Ha became a very active player in the worldwide cassette culture movement. He ran his own label Bestattungsinstitut and published loads of releases ranging from experimental to ebm, electro, to ambient spread all over the world's tape labels from 1985 to 1993. Since 2001, Fricke has operated primarily under the alias Pharmakustik. His collaborations included notable ones with legends of electronic and industrial music such as Conrad Schnitzler and Mauricio Bianchi.

For nearly four decades, since its founding during the mid 1980s, the Belgian imprint, Sub Rosa, has continuously plumbed the depths of numerous, radical creative histories, assembling a catalog of releases that has almost no equivalent, while remaining nearly impossible to nail down. That said, for most of its run, Sub Rosa has been primarily recognized for its rigorous explorations of the lesser explored shadows of experimental sound practice (sound-art, sound-poetry, early electronic and electroacoustic music, free-improvisation, etc.), delivering a remarkable body of artifacts that have collectively helped to rewrite history in their wake. While it's always been impossible to anticipate where the label might take us next, threading their catalog are plenty of releases that throw further wrenches in the cogs, expanding our understanding of what they pursue, as in the case of a handful of titles, appearing as early as the 1980s, dedicated to ethnographic field-recordings from various parts of the world. Among the most striking and celebrated of these was 2017's Ethiopian Urban And Tribal Music: Mindanoo Mistiru / Gold From Wax, comprising an astounding body of recordings made by Ragnar Johnson and Ralph Harrisson in Ethiopia during 1971, reissuing material originally released by Lyrichord the following year. Now, Sub Rosa returns to the incredible work embarked upon by the pair and captured on that same trip with Ethiopian Musics 1971, comprising the recordings originally released by Ocora shortly after their completion, expanded in this edition to include an entire disc of never before released music. Widely regarded as some of the most important field-recordings ever made of indigenous Ethiopian folk music (as captivating and intoxicating as they are revelatory: providing insights into the roots of the country's singular traditions of popular music and jazz that have come to be celebrated the world over), this incredible collection is issued by Sub Rosa in a beautifully produced 2LP edition, complemented by a four page insert providing detailed descriptions of each song, as well as notes by the ethnomusicologists and recordists, as well as a 2CD edition, with a twelve page booklet. Insanely good and absolutely essential for any fan of field-recording, ethnomusicology, the music of Ethiopia, or the label's mission at large. Once again, Sub Rosa has defied our expectations and delivered a remarkably important intervention in the history of recorded sound.

Located in the Horn of Africa region of East Africa, few cultures are distinctly singular, while being so diverse (containing 80 distinct ethnic groups who speak 70 languages and 200 dialects) as that of Ethiopia. The home to some of the oldest surviving sects of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam (each contributing important aspects of its collective cultural body), particularly the country's culinary and musical traditions have become celebrated the world over, and (generally speaking) feel entirely independent of those of its neighbors. Given this, it's unsurprising that, during the summer of 1971, the young ethnographer, Ragnar Johnson, accompanied by Ralph Harrisson, traveled to Ethiopia to begin his brief career as a field recording ethnomusicologist, capturing material on reels of magnetic tape that would be subsequently released across three LPs for Lyrichord and Ocora, respectively, coming to form a cornerstone of documentation and study of the country's many indigenous musical traditions, as well as providing wide, global access to them for the first time. While Johnson's recording career was relatively brief, ending toward the end of the decade when he began to focus more on teaching in UK universities, with a focus on the anthropology of art and social anthropology, his impact on the field was lasting. Between 1971 and 1979, in addition to those he made in Ethiopia, he made hugely significant recordings in Yemen (also issued by Lyrichord before being reissued by Sub Rosa) and Papua New Guinea, which were originally released by David Toop's Quartz Publications to wide celebration, before being revisited by Ideologic Organ in 2023.

While it's worth noting that commercial releases of ethnomusicological recordings by labels like Folkways, Lyrichord, and Ocora were still in their relatively early days when he entered the field, Johnson's recordings quickly stood apart for their vivid qualities and clarity of space, allowing them to stand the test of time. As he later stated: "I used a Uher Report L stereo tape recorder, BASF quarter inch tapes at a recording speed of seven and a half inches per second with two directional microphones mounted to record an isosceles triangle of stereo sound," he reveals. "The location of the microphones and musicians was critical. The musicians were fully informed of all aspects of the recording process."

Johnson's recordings are extremely vivid, there is a clear sense of space and the cries of the flutes exist across the entire stereo field. It's a reflection of Johnson's skill as a field recordist that his recordings continue to be reissued over forty years later. "I used a Uher Report L stereo tape recorder, BASF quarter inch tapes at a recording speed of seven and a half inches per second with two directional microphones mounted to record an isosceles triangle of stereo sound," he reveals. "The location of the microphones and musicians was critical. The musicians were fully informed of all aspects of the recording process… I used to enjoy being in the moment and hearing something wonderful despite the stress of the vigilance required to ensure that the recordings were accomplished according to plan. The responsibility is to record and document the music as effectively as possible so that it has been preserved for posterity. It is better to actually record music than to sit in a seminar room debating the ethics of recording music." It is this very ethos and sense of clarity that can be encountered across the length of Ethiopian Musics 1971.

For the sake of clarity, the two LPs of material that comprise Ethiopian Musics 1971 should be regarded as a single body of recordings alongside those made in Ethiopia by Ragnar Johnson and Ralph Harrisson during the summer of 1971 (previously issued by Lyrichord and reissued by Sub Rosa), and as two that have, until now, remained historically distinct. The first LP gathers that material released by Ocora during the early 1970s on Musiques Ethiopiennes, while the second comprises (as far as we can tell) twelve never before issued recordings, expanding the journey and making this the definitive edition of the release with its incredible total of 23 recordings of songs, allowing it ever greater scope to achieve the recordists' modus operandi of capturing the broadest and most diverse cross section of Ethiopia's many musical cultures, ranging from different forms of urban music captured in Addis Ababa, documenting largely orally transmitted idioms within which lyrical content is given greater emphasis than the instrumental components (played on masenko fiddles, craar and bagana lyres, washint flutes and kabaro drums), to folk idioms hailing from the Danakil desert and the border regions with Sudan and Kenya. There are songs sung and played in bars, divination chants, laments, dances, Christian songs, and Amharic sung poetry, to only begin to scratch the surface.

Ethiopian Musics 1971 is one of those rare albums where each musical moment is pure, intoxicating gold, while also being greater through the sum of its parts. There are the many songs, forming a rich tapestry of remarkable range across the respective two LPs/CDs (moments that wondrously flirt with sonic abstraction; hypnotic rhythms; pulsing chant; melodies that, in structural arrangement and tonal combination, help us reframe how such a thing might be understood, and a great deal more), each imbued with a remarkable directness and emotive sensibility, and there is the stunning quality of these recordings themselves, transporting each sound to our ears as though we intimately share its creator's space, while being imbued with the pure heart and remarkable spirit with which they were made. As we said before, it's little wonder, once heard, why these recordings and this music feels as fresh and relevant (enduring more than 50 years) today as when they were made. Once again, Sub Rosa has raised the bar with this essential addition to the incredible work that Ragnar Johnson and Ralph Harrisson did back in Ethiopia during 1971, radically expanding our access to the sounds that they captured with these stunning, beautifully produced 2LP and 2CD editions. Absolutely engrossing from the first sounding to the last, this one can't be missed.

This first release inaugurates Sistema Infinito, a new platform by Sabla created as a space for a more continuous release flow and for exploring different angles within his sound. SI 00 sets the tone for a shifting direction while remaining connected to previous work.

The first track, Zerozero, shares its name with the release itself and reflects it sonically. An exercise in bass minimalism, defined by quasi-weightless low-end pressure and reduced, suspended form.

Punti leans closer to Sabla’s previous outputs, where skeletal drums and percussion wander throughout the 7 minutes.

Punto Uno and Punto Due sit on side B, creating 15 mins of atmospheric texture. They extend the conceptual axis of Sistema Infinito, where the same material resolves into different structural states.

All of these sounds operate as a starting point for forthcoming SI releases, creating a flux of recurring and evolving sounds and ideas.

As WARNING prepares to release Rituals of Shame - their first new music in twenty years,vocalist/guitarist Patrick Walker is self-effacing about what led to this moment. Over the last two decades he continued to write and release music, satisfied that he had achieved what he set out to do with WARNING. In those intervening years, interest in WARNING swelled, organically gathering an ardent fanbase. In particular, the 2006 album, Watching from a Distance, has gained a cult following. In response to a transformative period in his life, Walker turned towards writing new songs, and it soon became apparent that these belonged to WARNING. In early January 2025, he started with a completely blank canvas, and piece by piece, he started to fill it with ideas that evolved to become the songs that make up Rituals of Shame.

His immersion in the project became a full-time pursuit. After successfully demoing the five songs, Walker retreated to a remote house on a hill outside Florence, Italy, to refine the lyrics. Recording took place at The Arch Studio, a 140-year-old former church in Southport, UK. Chris Fullard (Idles, Sunn O))), Ulver) handled the recording and mixing. Walker's lifelong musical inspirations can be traced through Rituals of Shame. The ambitious structural arrangements harken to Marillion’s complex but soaring episodic songs. They retain a sparsity that is reminiscent of June Tabor’s economic arrangements; thick with melody but with a diaphanous air to them. Citing John Brenner of Revelation as an enduring inspiration, Patrick credits him with introducing the idea of how to infuse heavy music with significant emotional depth. Often reluctant to discuss the minutiae of his lyrics, Walker does acknowledge that making this album was a direct response to the immediate concerns of his current life period. Rituals of Shame also echoes the enduring themes and fixations that have marked most of his work: guilt, shame, personal failure, obsession, longing, and separation, but, most of all, he says, love. Short: WARNING return with Rituals of Shame - the pioneering Doom band's first new music in 20 years! FFO: My Dying Bride, Candlemass, YOB, Black Sabbath, 40 Watt Sun, Pallbearer, Pagan Altar

Josh Mason’s new collection, "Wave Salt +7," emerges from an oblique origin. Unearthed from a dormant hard drive, it documents a set of work sessions only partially recoverable, their original continuity and intent fractured by time and technical failure. What remains is a constellation of mercurial gestures that proves, against all odds, to be entirely consonant with Mason’s ongoing musical concerns.

In a sense, the very condition of partiality proves generative, with elision operating on multiple levels - structural, sonic, and archival - shaping both the music itself and the circumstances of its (re)appearance. Phrases surface only to be truncated or displaced, hovering at the edge of resolution, and transitions are implied rather than fully enacted. Absence functions not as a deficit, but as an important compositional resource.

Central to the album’s sound is a distinctive use of vocoding. Deployed not to simulate vocal presence but as a tool for tonal sculpting, it yields a shifting lattice of smeared harmonics, angular melody, and attenuated noise. Sounds are pressed through one another, their edges softened, shifted, or selectively erased, producing surfaces simultaneously articulated and porous. Rather than reconstructing a lost whole, the album posits a mode of listening attuned to gaps, interruptions, and unstable forms. Even so, in keeping with Mason’s broader practice, this music remains grounded in melodic logic and a distinctly human scale, ensuring that its fragmentary structures register not solely as experiments, but as expressions of proximity and feeling.

Metaphon is pleased to present this première edition, which brings together a near-complete collection of the acousmatic works of Liliane Donskoy, recorded in the 1970s and 1980s.

Liliane Donskoy (*1933) is a French, classically trained pianist, music teacher, and composer of both instrumental and acousmatic music. She began her musical training at an early age, undertaking private piano studies with Yves Nat at the age of thirteen, shortly after the Second World War. During the 1960s and 1970s, she pursued advanced studies with prominent figures of twentieth-century music, including Darius Milhaud, Olivier Messiaen, Pierre Schaeffer, and Guy Reibel, and participated in courses led by Karlheinz Stockhausen, Luciano Berio, György Ligeti, and Iannis Xenakis.

Despite this extensive and diverse training, Donskoy encountered limited institutional and professional opportunities to fully realize her artistic vision. A decisive turning point occurred in 1977, when she gained access to the facilities of the Institute of Psychoacoustics and Electronic Music (IPEM) in Ghent. There, she realized and completed the majority of her acousmatic compositions.

Donskoy’s oeuvre is characterized by a high degree of structural complexity, precision, and expressive intensity. Her work reflects a pronounced and distinctive artistic temperament, manifested through a rigorous exploration of sound material and form. Notwithstanding its artistic significance, her music has remained largely unknown, as her compositions were neither widely circulated nor formally released, leading to their relative obscurity until the present publication.

Metaphon is pleased to present this première edition, which brings together a near-complete collection of the acousmatic works of Liliane Donskoy, recorded in the 1970s and 1980s.

Liliane Donskoy (*1933) is a French, classically trained pianist, music teacher, and composer of both instrumental and acousmatic music. She began her musical training at an early age, undertaking private piano studies with Yves Nat at the age of thirteen, shortly after the Second World War. During the 1960s and 1970s, she pursued advanced studies with prominent figures of twentieth-century music, including Darius Milhaud, Olivier Messiaen, Pierre Schaeffer, and Guy Reibel, and participated in courses led by Karlheinz Stockhausen, Luciano Berio, György Ligeti, and Iannis Xenakis.

Despite this extensive and diverse training, Donskoy encountered limited institutional and professional opportunities to fully realize her artistic vision. A decisive turning point occurred in 1977, when she gained access to the facilities of the Institute of Psychoacoustics and Electronic Music (IPEM) in Ghent. There, she realized and completed the majority of her acousmatic compositions.

Donskoy’s oeuvre is characterized by a high degree of structural complexity, precision, and expressive intensity. Her work reflects a pronounced and distinctive artistic temperament, manifested through a rigorous exploration of sound material and form. Notwithstanding its artistic significance, her music has remained largely unknown, as her compositions were neither widely circulated nor formally released, leading to their relative obscurity until the present publication.

From the depth of transient memories comes ‘Some Leaves Must Fall 聽其自然’, Temple Rat’s latest EP and the inaugural release for Martin Gilleshøj’s ‘Buttheads’ label.

Across 6 tracks Temple Rat distills fragments of spatial memory, merging conceptual ambience with the mystic, spatial, and driven edges of deep trance and hypnotic techno. A pensive and functional synthesis, one played out like an ode to the sustained.

Through 2024 while moving between Berlin and Sichuan, Temple Rat conceptualized and finished ‘Some Leaves Must Fall 聽其自然’. At its core, the work is an exploration of how the personal memory of cities and their particular acoustic environments can be transmuted in musical form. For these places, altered by the passing of time and the shifting of contexts, mirror the fluid and generative nature of sound itself.

Creatively this approach was borne out in a kind of archaeology of sound: by sampling and capturing auditory fragments Mei was able to preserve otherwise fleeting moments of experience. Sonics which not only embodied the emotions of the present but served too as a mechanism of recall, pulling memory back into focus even against the erasures of time.

In its method this project seeks to transform the sonic textures of urban and natural environments into high-energy dance tracks, exploring the tension between the certainty of space and the uncertainty of time. A tension operating not only within the structural logic of the sound itself, but so too as an affective experience, extending into the listener’s body and perceptual field.

For we are not the first to note that in a world of pervasive temptation and fragmented information, sustained listening has become rarified. Through this project, Temple Rat hopes to counter this tendency; to encourage a deeper mode of listening that restores attention, re-establishing our essential connection with the present.

All music is written, recorded, arranged, and produced by Temple Rat aka Yuxin Mei
Mastered by Giuseppe Tillieci at Enisslab
Distributed by One Eye Witness


Vertigo is proud to announce their debut physical release Necessity from Perth/Boorloo electronic duo Ezines, available March 20th. Necessity is a sleazy, pressure-driven club record, built on a balance of short, immediate ideas and long-term structural development. Across four original tracks and a remix — Dissolve, Necessity, Pacer, Ekspres, and Necessity (Liquid Earth Heaven ’N’ Hell Dub) — Ezines balance instant impact with slow-burn momentum, allowing tracks to hit fast before stretching into longer, more patient forms. The EP thrives on tension, repetition, and release, shaped equally by instinct, live performance, and hands-on studio refinement.

Limited to 250 copies !

The Deadheads had never had much luck with spaceships. Their first mission had ended in a catastrophic engine failure, leaving them adrift in deep space for weeks. This time, their craft was hardly more reassuring. A hodgepodge of outdated technology and shoddy repairs made it more of a floating death trap than a reliable cruiser. As they began their descent toward the strange planet, the hull creaked and rattled, sending a wave of dread through the crew.

"Hold on," Matt's voice crackled over the intercom, without much conviction, as if he himself doubted they would make it out alive. Outside, a thick, grayish atmosphere swirled ominously, while the planet's gravity became far stronger than anticipated.

“Fuck, we’re gonna burn at the entrance!” M yelled, his hands flailing on the console as sparks flew from the control panel. The ship’s sensors were completely jammed, and the navigation system flickered intermittently, like a dying light. Below, the planet’s surface was a tangle of lava rivers and jagged rock formations, the kind of place no sane person would ever land. But the Deadheads had never pretended to be. They lived in a state of constant emergency.

As the descent intensified, the alarms blared. On the bridge, the screens lit up with red warnings and flashing messages: "SYSTEM ERROR," "UNSTABLE TRAJECTORY," "SUIVITY SYSTEM COMPROMISED." The lines of code scrolled by too quickly to be read, while a mechanical voice repeated relentlessly: "Imminent impact. Structural integrity at twenty percent."

The once pristine shell of the vessel began to disintegrate, with shards of metal breaking away and disappearing into the atmosphere.

With a final, piercing screech, the ship crashed onto the planet's surface, sending up a cloud of dust and debris. The crew was violently thrown from their seats, stunned but barely alive. They struggled to their feet amidst the wreckage, the ship reduced to a charred shell around them.

"Well," M said, wiping the dirt off his suit with a grimace, "at least the air is breathable." Matt scanned the hostile expanse stretching before them and smiled slightly. "Perfect. Let's hope we have better luck with the planet than with our ships."

With that, the Deadheads gathered their equipment and headed into the unknown, while the remains of their ship slowly sank into the unstable soil of the planet.

A Place In My Memory Is All I Have To Claim is the new album by Australian atmospheric pop trio Hydroplane, the storied 'offshoot' formed by three quarters of independent pop group, The Cat's Miaow. On this, their first music after two decades plus of radio silence, Andrew Withycombe, Kerrie Bolton and Bart Cummings return to the gentle, close-quarters musical world they shared around the turn of the century.

Recorded during 2024 in Melbourne and Ballarat, A Place In My Memory… picks up the thread Hydroplane set down with its precursor, 2001's The Sound Of Changing Places, though you can hear echoes of their other releases, too, with Withycombe noting a through-line from the group's 1998 "Failed Adventure" single. There's little quite like A Place In My Memory…, then or now, though. Maybe you can draw some connections between Hydroplane and their sister group, The Cat's Miaow, while fellow travellers might include Empress, The Ah Club, and further back, Young Marble Giants, Veronique Vincent (the muffled, ticking drum machine also makes me think of Robin Gibb's Robin's Reign).

There's also an umbilical to the bedroom-crafted electronica doing the rounds in the late nineties and early noughties. Hydroplane hint at this through their approach to songwriting, which often builds creatively around loops as structural devices. Through all this, the trio achieve an effortless, organic weightlessness across these nine lovely songs. Many feature Bolton's clear singing voice, drifting along, while guitars, keyboards, drum machines and loops tickertape away. The constituent parts fit together, but they also have a curiously detached quality - think of abstract cloud formations sharing the same sky.

Hydroplane and The Cat's Miaow often dealt in emotional ambiguity and uncertainty, and the uncertainty of the nostalgic. This was always one of the most appealing facets of their music, and A Place In My Memory… is thus named perfectly. I couldn't dream up a better title for the album and its reflections on history, lived experience, and the inevitable tangle between these two phenomena. These reflections variously address such concerns as human cruelty, flight, space travel, adventurism and spiritualism. There's also "To the Lighthouse", not a direct reference to the Virginia Woolf book, but a great title, nonetheless. (They've always had excellent titles, often borrowed, for songs and albums.)

A beautiful collection of drowsy, sleepy pop, humble and quiet, but resolute in its craft, A Place In My Memory Is All I Have To Claim is dream work in practice; a lovely reintroduction. Welcome back, then.

Impressions marks Budapest based independent label Blue Sun’s 6th release. Hungarian multi-instrumentalist, Fingerfisher guitarist Adam Gollob's debut solo LP carries forward the musical direction set by the label’s founders (Hanussen & Kozmo D) by presenting tracks that are built around concentrated, listening-based music consumption, deliberately crossing, possibly defying genres.

Impressions is a profound reflection of transformation, embracing imperfection along the way. As a former student of jazz guitar at Bartók Conservatory, Gollob evokes the wandering spirit of John Coltrane with the title, at the same time inviting the listener into a brief but intensive creative period of the artist’s own life. Music listened to, festivals visited, thoughts and conversations - all echoing through-and-throughout the composition, questioning, dismantling, and rearranging them into a piece.

The record is a rich and evocative work that blends elements of new wave, indie rock, alternative electronic, and neo-psychedelic styles. The introspective lyrics and unrefined vocals explore different aspects of existence, placing the perpetual tension between uncertainty and confidence at the center. The hypnotic synthesizers, raw drum textures, and the structurally interwoven songs provide a complex listening experience. The material reforms with each replay into an ever-changing musical landscape, with a strikingly unique, fuzzy yet soothing atmosphere.

múm are returning with a new album on Morr Music. »History of Silence« is the first full body of work by the Icelandic collective since 2013's »Smilewound« and their seventh studio album to date—recorded, deconstructed, put back together again, refined and finished over the course of two years. Vibrantly oscillating around a carefully curated palette of electronic and analogue sounds, the eight new tracks reflect the group's continuous strive to explore sonic spaces through subtle yet gripping songwriting.

For a long time now, múm have been exploring the idea of distance in their music. In the beginning, this was born purely out of necessity. Founded in Iceland in the late 1990s, the members soon began embarking on journeys across the world—collectively while touring, but also individually, exploring new places to live and create. Settling in, moving on, catching up: The concept of distance soon became an integral part of the collective's process. »History of Silence« leans into this idea, with space and time becoming indispensable pillars of the arrangements. While being coherent and structured, they echo their origins from different seasons, cities, and spaces—neatly stitched together with unparalleled craftsmanship. They breathe an overall airy and intimate atmosphere, yet resonate with the structural heft of time.

On »History of Silence« time manifests in unexpected, liberating, and mesmerizing ways. It does not move reliably forward; it drifts, takes twists and turns, even disappears completely. Electronic textures blur into acoustic sounds, voices flicker and dissolve, melodies stumble and repeat. The arrangements often feel like they’re wandering, gently resisting direction. »Our Love is Distorting,« for instance, begins with a subtle piano motif, playing hide and seek with feedback noises, digital artefacts, and lush—yet very quiet—string arrangements, before gradually forming into a distinctive song. It's a perfect illustration of múm's general approach on this album. »Mild at Heart« turns this idea upside-down, flowing freely from start to finish with moments of silence sprinkled in—serving to emphasize the musical elements. The music on »History of Silence« moves like weather: unexpected, intimate, quietly detailed. Contrasted with vivid phrases, rhythmic shifts, and small hooks, the album offers a new angle of compositional clarity and vision.

Work on »History of Silence« began at Sudestudio in southern Italy. Additional recordings were made in Reykjavík, Berlin, Athens, Helsinki, New York, and Prague. The strings were recorded by Sinfonia Nord at the Hof concert hall, Akureyri, arranged and conducted by Ingi Garðar Erlendsson, who has worked with the band for many years. The orchestral elements don’t dominate the record—instead, they surface gently, adding depth and resonance to the songs without disturbing the songs' fragility.

Contrary to what the album title suggests, »History of Silence« is a collection of bold and colorful songs, no matter how muted they might sound at times. They tickle like a feather drifting through the wind, ending up in unexpected places, stimulating long-forgotten thoughts and feelings, intimate moments of introspection. The songs move through the echoes those moments leave behind: the emotional traces of things unsaid, the weight of stillness. Offering closeness by means of distance and much-needed support.

múm are returning with a new album on Morr Music. »History of Silence« is the first full body of work by the Icelandic collective since 2013's »Smilewound« and their seventh studio album to date—recorded, deconstructed, put back together again, refined and finished over the course of two years. Vibrantly oscillating around a carefully curated palette of electronic and analogue sounds, the eight new tracks reflect the group's continuous strive to explore sonic spaces through subtle yet gripping songwriting.

For a long time now, múm have been exploring the idea of distance in their music. In the beginning, this was born purely out of necessity. Founded in Iceland in the late 1990s, the members soon began embarking on journeys across the world—collectively while touring, but also individually, exploring new places to live and create. Settling in, moving on, catching up: The concept of distance soon became an integral part of the collective's process. »History of Silence« leans into this idea, with space and time becoming indispensable pillars of the arrangements. While being coherent and structured, they echo their origins from different seasons, cities, and spaces—neatly stitched together with unparalleled craftsmanship. They breathe an overall airy and intimate atmosphere, yet resonate with the structural heft of time.

On »History of Silence« time manifests in unexpected, liberating, and mesmerizing ways. It does not move reliably forward; it drifts, takes twists and turns, even disappears completely. Electronic textures blur into acoustic sounds, voices flicker and dissolve, melodies stumble and repeat. The arrangements often feel like they’re wandering, gently resisting direction. »Our Love is Distorting,« for instance, begins with a subtle piano motif, playing hide and seek with feedback noises, digital artefacts, and lush—yet very quiet—string arrangements, before gradually forming into a distinctive song. It's a perfect illustration of múm's general approach on this album. »Mild at Heart« turns this idea upside-down, flowing freely from start to finish with moments of silence sprinkled in—serving to emphasize the musical elements. The music on »History of Silence« moves like weather: unexpected, intimate, quietly detailed. Contrasted with vivid phrases, rhythmic shifts, and small hooks, the album offers a new angle of compositional clarity and vision.

Work on »History of Silence« began at Sudestudio in southern Italy. Additional recordings were made in Reykjavík, Berlin, Athens, Helsinki, New York, and Prague. The strings were recorded by Sinfonia Nord at the Hof concert hall, Akureyri, arranged and conducted by Ingi Garðar Erlendsson, who has worked with the band for many years. The orchestral elements don’t dominate the record—instead, they surface gently, adding depth and resonance to the songs without disturbing the songs' fragility.

Contrary to what the album title suggests, »History of Silence« is a collection of bold and colorful songs, no matter how muted they might sound at times. They tickle like a feather drifting through the wind, ending up in unexpected places, stimulating long-forgotten thoughts and feelings, intimate moments of introspection. The songs move through the echoes those moments leave behind: the emotional traces of things unsaid, the weight of stillness. Offering closeness by means of distance and much-needed support.

múm are returning with a new album on Morr Music. »History of Silence« is the first full body of work by the Icelandic collective since 2013's »Smilewound« and their seventh studio album to date—recorded, deconstructed, put back together again, refined and finished over the course of two years. Vibrantly oscillating around a carefully curated palette of electronic and analogue sounds, the eight new tracks reflect the group's continuous strive to explore sonic spaces through subtle yet gripping songwriting.

For a long time now, múm have been exploring the idea of distance in their music. In the beginning, this was born purely out of necessity. Founded in Iceland in the late 1990s, the members soon began embarking on journeys across the world—collectively while touring, but also individually, exploring new places to live and create. Settling in, moving on, catching up: The concept of distance soon became an integral part of the collective's process. »History of Silence« leans into this idea, with space and time becoming indispensable pillars of the arrangements. While being coherent and structured, they echo their origins from different seasons, cities, and spaces—neatly stitched together with unparalleled craftsmanship. They breathe an overall airy and intimate atmosphere, yet resonate with the structural heft of time.

On »History of Silence« time manifests in unexpected, liberating, and mesmerizing ways. It does not move reliably forward; it drifts, takes twists and turns, even disappears completely. Electronic textures blur into acoustic sounds, voices flicker and dissolve, melodies stumble and repeat. The arrangements often feel like they’re wandering, gently resisting direction. »Our Love is Distorting,« for instance, begins with a subtle piano motif, playing hide and seek with feedback noises, digital artefacts, and lush—yet very quiet—string arrangements, before gradually forming into a distinctive song. It's a perfect illustration of múm's general approach on this album. »Mild at Heart« turns this idea upside-down, flowing freely from start to finish with moments of silence sprinkled in—serving to emphasize the musical elements. The music on »History of Silence« moves like weather: unexpected, intimate, quietly detailed. Contrasted with vivid phrases, rhythmic shifts, and small hooks, the album offers a new angle of compositional clarity and vision.

Work on »History of Silence« began at Sudestudio in southern Italy. Additional recordings were made in Reykjavík, Berlin, Athens, Helsinki, New York, and Prague. The strings were recorded by Sinfonia Nord at the Hof concert hall, Akureyri, arranged and conducted by Ingi Garðar Erlendsson, who has worked with the band for many years. The orchestral elements don’t dominate the record—instead, they surface gently, adding depth and resonance to the songs without disturbing the songs' fragility.

Contrary to what the album title suggests, »History of Silence« is a collection of bold and colorful songs, no matter how muted they might sound at times. They tickle like a feather drifting through the wind, ending up in unexpected places, stimulating long-forgotten thoughts and feelings, intimate moments of introspection. The songs move through the echoes those moments leave behind: the emotional traces of things unsaid, the weight of stillness. Offering closeness by means of distance and much-needed support.

Corrosiv, the sophomore album from Orchestroll, reveals the duo at their most mature and vulnerable. Originally conceived as a reflection on hybridity and bastardization, the album deploys New Age and ambient compositional tropes as a launchpad, exposing their trite sanctity to the realities of corrosion. Having come of age in the 1970s and 1980s, the New Age movement perdures today as a domain of contradictions; its promise of transcendence riddled with the very commercialized dogma from which its adherents claim to flee. Healing modalities such as reiki, crystal therapy, and sound baths are simultaneously pathways to solace and sites of exploitation; their sonic counterparts—ethereal synth pads, shimmering textures, celestial drones—claim to facilitate meditation and enlightenment while devolving into empty signifiers of vitality. With Corrosiv, Orchestroll displays neither reverence nor disdain toward New Age: they exhume it instead, revealing the saccharine effervescence and commodified murk undergirding its aesthetics. The result is intoxicating—disquieting.

Born from a two-week residency at EMS Studios and expanded through a performance at MUTEK Montreal’s 25th anniversary, Corrosiv has since outgrown its original conceptual nucleus, taking on a broader scope. Its inquiry into New Age ideology’s voided rhetoric and aesthetic mysticism now informs a broader interrogation of cultural mediocrity, anti-authoritarianism, gatekeeping, music industry toxicity, and the crumbling edifice of late capitalism and techno-feudalism—all the mechanisms by which meaning is stripped from ceremony, and once-potent forms of knowledge are subsumed into the machinery of economic extraction, severed from their original essence, and transformed into hollow simulacra. Corrosiv distills these themes through a loose narrative: a soul, fixated on wellness as dictated by cosmetic economism, becomes ensnared in an endless afterlife, unable to transcend and shed its dilapidated consciousness.

Framed as an act of audio dissolution, the album thus engages in an alchemical process, whereby complex waveshaping, morphing synthesis, and distortion enact a ritual of fragmentation. There is also friction: between the rigid, mechanical imposition of systematized order and the untamed, chaotic force of organic metamorphosis. Here corrosion and confinement are not solely conceptual motifs; they are enacted in real time, sculpting the album’s terrain. Scraping, tarnishing, degradation—the languid wear of form and substance—become instruments in their own right: buffing as abrasion, entrapment as transformation, corrosion as a means of reconfiguration. The ‘protagonist,’ if there must be one, is the listener, caught within the throes of structural determinism and the potential for emancipation, unable to pass into something greater as the specters of collapsed futures accumulate in the margins.

Corrosiv extends its reach through collaborations with familiar voices: Heith (PAN), VISIO (Haunter), Femminielli (Drowned by Locals), Habib Bardi (Interzone), and Jiyoung Wi (Enmossed, Psychic Liberation, Doyenne) each leave their imprint on its sprawling landscape. At 1h16m, it is a procession, dense with earworms that burrow into the listener’s unconscious.

Misshapen, broken-down metals leach copper into blood, acid reflux burning through the core. Psyche disaggregates into cosmic turmoil, drifting between planes—tongue on rustline, gullet laced with solvent hymns, molars unlatching, bitcrushed to marrowspill. A spasm of brine, ferrous scripture, venomtext blooming in leaden rivulets, cartilage smoldering in phosphor decomposition, synapses drowning in a quicksilver choir. Crest of bile, churning ore, breath clotting into arsenic mist, vein-thread cinched, a corrosive gospel, limb by limb, oxidized to silence.

Ultimately, as the music exhales its final breath, its residue refuses to dissipate—and stillness alone remains. There are no conclusions here—no resolution, no collapse—only the slow drift outward of a vessel unmoored, lost in the sea of symbolic souring. Corrosiv sings the song of a world barren of prophecy, littered with aesthetic detritus. Whether this magic has been transfigured or simply worn away is unclear: the last breath dissipates, but the oxidation does not stop. The silence, too, will decay.

Conceptualized, composed, performed, recorded, mixed, engineered and produced by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier, and Asaël Richard-Robitaille in 2023 and 2024 at Elektron Musik Studion (EMS) - Stockholm, Sweden and Landsc8pe Studio - Montréal, QC, Canada.
Artwork by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu @ Schwebung Mastering.

Trumpeter, santur player, vocalist, and composer Amir ElSaffar joins electronics performer and composer Lorenzo Bianchi-Hoesch in a new project exploring electro-acoustic spaces, maqam, microtonal harmonies, and improvised and composed structures in a modular musical composition that accommodates a variety of musical styles across genres. Together, they create an immersive sound that transcends notions of form, musical language, electronic, and acoustic categories in music. This new work will be a modular composition combining pre-determined structural elements with freely improvised sections, played live by ElSaffar and Bianchi-Hoesch. The work will explore electro-acoustic spaces in a microtonal environment that embraces the sonic spectra of multiple musical languages. Bianchi-Hoesch and ElSaffar are interested in creating a transcultural collaboration combining jazz, contemporary classical music, maqam, raga, and other musical backgrounds, inclusive of all the richness, complexity, and idiomatic expression, without compromising or oversimplifying in order to be compatible with others. They are in search of boundary-less spaces in music.

Roberto Cacciapaglia is an Italian composer and pianist who started out in the fertile Milan avant-garde scene of the 1970s, which included Franco Battiato, Giusto Pio, Lino Capra Vaccina, Francesco Messina, among others. After studying at the conservatory, he worked at RAI's Studio of Musical Phonology – an electronic music laboratory similar to NDR/WDR in Germany, GRM/IRCAM in France or BBC Radiophonic Workshop.

Sonanze (Sonatas) is Cacciapaglia's debut album, a monumental work that was recorded over a two-year period and released in 1975 via seminal German label Die Kosmischen Kuriere (Ohr). While a "sonata" is traditionally performed by easily distinguishable instrumentalists (often soloist and accompaniment) and with repeated structural themes, Cacciapaglia flips this hierarchical form on its head – blending harpsichord, strings, brass and analog synths to create ambient mini-soundtracks.

As the composer writes in the original sleeve notes, "I am aware, unfortunately, that I am a few millennia late in how I would like music to be understood, which today I find diluted in its primary powers, in an era that is destructive of essential values. Precisely for this reason, I want to search for it in depth and not on the surface, perhaps alternating the knob of a synthesizer with a marranzano (mouth harp)."

Mixed in quadrophonic surround-sound under the auspices of Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser (celebrated producer of Tangerine Dream and Ash Ra Tempel), Sonanze remains on the fringe of Kosmische realms. Each movement explores hypnotic rhythms, intuitive arrangements, musique concrète techniques and a pure psychedelic awakening.

Astral travel with Cybotron into the meta-narrative of the Parallel Shift, a new sonic fiction that raises many questions about military science of the near-future and the possibility of other worlds.
Descending backward through the rhythms of time, the Skynet module retracts from the hyper-structural society of 2100, edging toward the mid-century modern age teetering on the brink of what was then the frontier of “the future”. The system boots the Infiniti process, morphing into a cosmotechnic vessel coursing the superhighway of burgeoning general intelligence, seeking data from just before “the overshoot and collapse.”
R&D methods, rhythmanalytically applied, dissect the aftermath of an industrial society that burst through the ecological capacity of Spaceship Earth. Fractal visions of war and innovation spike and recede from and into the surfaces of reality being bent and guiding the eyes, ears, touch towards a laboratory in the year 1961. A nuclear expert, Don Lewis, receives orders to decrypt the mysterious black dodecagonal disc known as Fortec and the extraterrestrial biology unearthed in Roswell. He joins a team disassembling Fortec and studying the recurrent dodecahedral patterns linked to the human nervous system.
Through dismantling and probing, the team cycles through a saecular search devoid of finite conclusions, limited by Earth’s intellectual and technological prowess. One 1960s night, Lewis, while meddling with Fortec’s cyborganic innards, accidentally electrifies himself. His cyclotron and missile experience guides him to circuit-bend Fortec, stirring the entity from a mechanical slumber. Lewis and Fortec communicate in resonances, until it drifts back into a tranquil stasis.
The US Defense and contractors, unbeknownst to them, observe this breakthrough. They later permit Lewis to exit military service as the Air Force forms the Foreign Technology Division. Concurrently, MJ12 evolves into CY12, delving into second-order cybernetics. Lewis clandestinely keeps working on Fortec fragments, transitioning from military engineer to musician, pioneering the LEO module, a fusion of Fortec’s essence and audio engineering.
He shares his insights with Roland founder Ikutaro Kakehashi, aiding the creation of the iconic TR-808. Meanwhile, Fortec branches out, coining “Cyberspace” – a collective illusion of liberty unshackled by physical, political, or spiritual bounds, anchored in the equitable distribution of The Golden Ratio across realities. Yet “Cyberspace” morphs into a chaotic truth reservoir, spilling over into deception.
The Parallel Shift manifests in the perpetual “Now,” a collapsed event horizon where past and future are ensnared in a relentless present, unfurling along a dissolving timeline, overseen by a monolithic simulation under ceaseless watch…
— The Rhythmanalyst aka DeForrest Brown, Jr.

On August 16, Toronto-based musician and producer David Psutka aka ACT! (fka Egyptrixx / Anamai / Ceramic TL) will release his latest project ‘Face to Face, Day by Day’ for his own Halocline Trance imprint.

This is is Psutka’s third album proper as ACT! following the release of the “sonic mixtape” ‘Universalist’ in 2018 and the augmented reality soundtrack ‘Grey Matter AR’ in 2021; a series of Snapchat filters created by artist Karen Vanderborght and soundtracked by ACT! which explored the poetic and existential potential of AR and social media.

“Aesthetic accidents in the periphery of the ‘work’ can be the message. In 2018, at an Egyptrixx concert at Bagni Misteriosi de Teatro Franco Parenti - a gorgeous, sprawling outdoor pool theatre in Milan - I had a clarifying moment. Gigs around then had mostly been in pummelling, dark music venues, so I wasn't prepared for this expansive space (and the thoughtful work of the organisers who had layered sheets of plastic film on the pool to parallel eco-materialist themes from a previous album). It was the midday soundcheck that struck me most - brittle digital sounds from the set echoed off the colonial Milanese facades and ricocheted down the Via Carlo Botta, pinging off buildings in the distance and clashing with the noise of traffic, tourists and whatever else. It was a strange, collisionist moment, and a reminder that my essential approach to music is, above all, a preoccupation with the materiality of sound. 

Everything on Face to Face, Day by Day began as an improvisation. Openness to accidents and the emotional complexity that comes from centering them in composition has become important to my work, and helps the music go beyond the possibility of what is playable, imaginable. I also wanted to channel adventurous solo pop records of the 1970’s and 80’s, like Yasuaki Shimizu, Jon + Vangelis and Stevie Wonder. These came from an interesting era in commercial music as studio production techniques became increasingly formalised as compositional devices, like AMS RMX16 percussion sounds and early digital stereo effects. 

Like many musicians, I’ve been travelling and performing less since the pandemic and as a result, have wanted studio sessions to feel more collaborative and improvisational. There were great writing and recording sessions for this album. Vox, synth, sax and guitar jams - much of what ended up on the record isn’t edited much, if at all. I jammed a sm57 into Colin Fisher’s sax bell and created feedback loops using various preamps and distortion units. The clunky sounds were sampled and used as percussion elements. I also had a great synth jam session with Jeremy Greenspan at Barton Building Studio in Hamilton, which was recorded by filmmaker Liz Adler. 

I’ve had a few months to sit with this album and see clear throughlines connecting it to previous projects. There are aspects of the experiential and structuralist sound design ideas from the EGYPTRIXX records; and also some arrangement tricks borrowed from ANAMAI - specifically, the use of interruptionist sound events. Perhaps most of all, it feels connected to the Ceramic TL + Ipek Gorgun record ‘Perfect Lung’ and its splattered take on musical complexity. “ (David Psutka)

In addition to ACT!, Psutka has released music with numerous projects including Anamai, Egyptrixx and Ceramic TL, he has collaborated widely with artists such as Junior Boys, Ipek Gorgun, and Kuedo as well as Jessy Lanza (2016) and an official remix for Massive Attack’s ‘Hymn of the Big Wheel (2012). The contributions on this album, from Robin Dann and Ben Gunning, reflect the deeply collaborative nature of the Halocline Trance label and the Toronto creative scene more broadly.

Many of Psutka’s releases have received critical acclaim from media outlets such as Pitchfork, Exclaim, The Quietus and Resident Advisor. As a live performer, he has toured extensively including performing at Sonar Festival, Roskilde, Mutek, MOMA PS1 Warm-UP and CTM Festival. He’s also presented sound installations at various institutions such as Galeria Civica Commune di Modena, and Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO).

In 2015, Psutka launched Halocline Trance as a home for his various sound projects, events and collaborations. Now a creative collective and label, it has grown to include a diverse array of artists including Casey MQ, Xuan Ye, Myst Milano, Colin Fisher and others. The label is described as “genre-agnostic” and conceptually open, supporting work across a wide spectrum of creative fields including soundtrack recording, AR design and traditional artist albums. Their impeccable roster also includes, theorist/improviser Eldritch Priest, and AR/VR artist Karen Vanderborght. In recent years, Halocline Trance has established itself as a platform that facilitates many of Canada’s most exciting creative music projects. Many of the releases have received critical acclaim from outlets including Pitchfork, Exclaim, Bandcamp and Resident Advisor.