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Gute Neuigkeiten für Good Riddance-Fans! Nach sehr limitierter Verfügbarkeit der Erstauflage (schwarzes Vinyl) gibt es noch eine Nachpressung. Die zweitauflage kommt als Apple Red Vinyl. Die aus Santa Cruz, Kalifornien, stammende Band ist eine feste Größe in der Punkszene und bekannt dafür, die Lücke zwischen rasantem Skate-Punk und der rohen Intensität des Hardcore zu schließen. Sie werden für ihre ,intellektuelle Aggression" gefeiert, einen einzigartigen Sound, der rasante Drum-Geschwindigkeiten und scharfe Gitarrenriffs mit überraschend eingängigen Melodien verbindet. Für neue Hörer repräsentiert die Band den Goldstandard des Genres und beweist, dass Punk unglaublich schnell und aggressiv sein kann, während er gleichzeitig musikalisch ausgefeilt und technisch präzise bleibt. Über ihre klangliche Strahlkraft hinaus dient die Band als wichtige Einführung in die aktivistischen Wurzeln des Punkrocks. Unter der Leitung von Sänger Russ Rankin tauchen ihre Texte tief in Themen wie soziale Gerechtigkeit, Tierrechte und politische Kritik ein und bieten eine viel tiefgründigere Perspektive als typischer Alternative Rock. Durch die Auseinandersetzung mit klassischen Alben wie "A Comprehensive Guide to Moderne Rebellion" können Fans genau hören, wie Punk als kraftvolle Stimme für Marginalisierte und als engagierte Plattform für die Infragestellung des Status quo dient. Die Relevanz der Band ist nach wie vor ungebrochen, seit 2015 ungebrochen zurück, das letzte Album kam 2019, 2024 veröffentlichten sie "No More System to Believe In", eine melodische Punk-Hymne, die moderne Desillusionierung in einen kraftvollen Aufruf zum Handeln kanalisiert. Nach einem strapaziösen Tourplan für 2025, bei dem sie neben ausverkauften Clubkonzerten in Europa und Nordamerika auch auf großen Festivals wie dem Hellfest und der Warped Tour Orlando auftraten, zeigen sie keine Anzeichen einer Verlangsamung. Im Jahr 2026 wird Good Riddance diese globale Dynamik mit umfangreichen Auftritten auf Festivals in der EU und insbesondere in Deutschland fortsetzen. Aufgenommen mit Bill Stevenson (Descendents) im The Blasting Room.

Luke Lund is a self-taught producer and sound artist from Finland. Over the past eighteen years, his work has absorbed influences ranging from the darkest fringes of club culture and the most caustic strains of industrial noise, to the subtlety of musique concrète and the rawness of rock.

It all started when he discovered that abstract sound design could stand as music in its own right, a revelation that ignited his enduring commitment to noise, sound art, dub techniques, and experimentation.

“Peel the Scab” emerges from this premise as a visceral and frenetic immersion into his “lo tech” facet, a term the artist himself employs to define the album’s style.

Allergic to programming, these are pure dub-blooded sessions pushed straight to tape, twisted until they yield under their own weight. It is a work constructed upon dense, disjointed rhythms: brutalist grime infused with a suffocating mutation of dub.

DISPLACES represents Fabris' most personal musical journey to date, inspired by the concept of hyperobjects and cartographic practices. The album sculpts a high-dimensional phased time-space composed of concrete materials and digital archetypes in a state of constant displacement. It delves into the symbolic and philosophical realms of mapping as one of the greatest sense-making mechanisms for life, in dialogue with object-oriented environments, superimposition and non-locality applied to cosmic, temporal, and emotional memory.

The sonic ecosystem expands on the image of navigating a path through a set of places, from the microcosm of quanta to the macro force of dark matter, from underwater depths to overland terrains, encapsulating the cyclical flow between birth and death, both in ecological and anthropological sense. The intersection of these shifting states is explored through the extensive processing of the langspil, Iceland's only traditional instrument, intertwined with manipulated field recordings of biophonies and geophonies captured across Icelandic and Venetian territories. These recordings form the backdrop for a meditative process that relocate familiar objects into unfamiliar realms, reflecting on the transformative power of self-reflection while encapsulating the fragmentation and entanglement found in nature and the human state. The record plunges the listener into a disconcerting and physical soundscape, as a “ghostly spectrality that comes in and out of phase with normalized human spacetime,” evoking sensations of suffocation and release as each layer continuously unfolds the palimpsest of the enclosed labyrinth.

“Extraction of the I” embodies a subatomic reaction—erupting as a molecular force that rises, only to re-submerge with a solitary exhale underwater. In this mutated dark space, beluga whales breathe into "Xanadu Phasing," creating a pulsating tension that releases only to unveil a frozen landscape.

In “Barricading the Ice Sheets” the glacial material morphs into a liquid tunnel of digital artifacts, building a wall of noise that shatters into scattered fragments of ice, resembling bird calls from another world.

A moment of stasis is offered with the appearance of an asymmetrical loop in Monolith I, evoking a primitive rite before an unknown force emerges.

The physical intensity of subsonic material in "A Quake in Being" interrupts the hieratic tone, detuning into polluted sonic matter sourced from relics of the First World War in the Venetian Prealps. The geography of this place reconciles with the original homeland in "The Map is the Territory," blending negative space with anthropogenic elements and exploited sounds of the langspil.

The burning density of "Wolf-Rayet" projects into the void, echoing the residual sounds of a local church as relics of fossilized religions. Wolf tones are the remains in Monolith II, introducing the final track, "Topography of Extinction," where evolving psilocin textures invite the listener to uncover deeper layers of meaning and dislocation.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 is a compilation bringing together the early 2000s works of Marco Passarani under his Analog Fingerprints alias, collecting key tracks originally released on Rome’s Plasmek and Pigna labels.

For Numbers, the story starts long before the label itself. In their formative years, digging in Glasgow’s Rubadub, Passarani’s records felt like dispatches from a future city. Releases on his own Nature Records and on labels such as Generator and Interr-Ference Communications were mind blowing: rooted in Detroit techno, Chicago house and electro, yet pushing somewhere new. Much like fellow travellers Autechre, who would remix him in 2001, Passarani’s music balanced machine funk with restless experimentation.

Information was scarce, and you would hear these records first on the dancefloor or at listening stations in shops like Rubadub. Print fanzines like Ear and early web outposts such as Forcefield offered only fragments. But there was a palpable axis forming between Detroit techno and a new European wave of record labels including Skam, Rephlex, Clone, Viewlexx and Nature itself. It was the sound that defined Saturday nights at Rubadub’s ‘69’ parties in Paisley, just outside of Glasgow.

Passarani’s records, in particular, were instrumental in bringing together the future Numbers co-founders. Richard had already booked him pre-Numbers; meanwhile Calum (Spencer) and Jack (Jackmaster), then 16/17 year olds working alternate Saturdays in Rubadub, were so enamoured with the Roman sound that they travelled to Rome for the Bitz Festival in 2003 to seek out Passarani and Lory D at their source.

The first Analog Fingerprints release landed as a 12” on Plasmek in 2001, following the fractured, IDM-leaning 6 Katun material. For Passarani, the project marked a recalibration. A DJ first and foremost, he had moved into production via early computer setups, from a Commodore Amiga through primitive PC audio, Cubase and Logic, later experimenting with Ableton. The IDM scene had offered a playground for trial and error, but there was always a tension between abstraction and the dancefloor. Analog Fingerprints became the bridge: still intelligent, but with more dance than distance. After years of broken beats and complex arrangements, he wanted directness without surrendering identity.

Working closely with Francesco de Bellis and Mario Pierro in the Pigneto district, the trio formed Pigna as a vehicle for reclaiming a more accessible dance sound, deliberately steering away from the minimal wave beginning to dominate Europe. Sessions were fast, instinctive, often stretching late into the night with friends dropping by. It was a studio as social space, production as collective energy.

“In that constant search for balance, Analog Fingerprints was my way of expressing something closer to the classic dance floor. The track 'Tribute' - a tribute to my favourite early Detroit techno track of all time, 'First Bass' by Separate Minds - came after I realised I had almost lost my connection with the dance floor. The simplest step was to take inspiration from early Chicago and Detroit and twist it in our Roman ‘Pigna’ way. My goal was to create more accessible dancefloor tracks by mixing my unconscious Italo roots with my teenage love for that early US sound, ensuring the result was as far as possible from the minimal sound that was starting to dominate everywhere.” - Marco Passarani

Technically, the Analog Fingerprints tracks span a transitional era: Roland TR-909, SH-101 and Alpha Juno hardware met early software experiments. A Novation Drumstation rack stood in for the unattainable TR-808, syncing with TB-303 and TR-606. Yet the true secret weapon was Jeskola Buzz, a tracker-style modular environment that allowed step-by-step parameter control and strange melodic constructions, later exported into the audio sequencer. Even the lead on ‘Tribute’ came from an early PPG Wave-style plugin. It was hybrid thinking at a moment when digital tools still felt unstable but full of possibility for technologists like Passarani.

Behind the music sat Finalfrontier, a loose Roman collective orbiting Nature and Plasmek. Distribution and production were intertwined; importing obscure records into Italy built connections with like-minded outsiders across Europe and the US. Expensive phone bills and fax machines forged an “electronix network” that linked Rome to Clone, Viewlexx, Skam, Rephlex, Rubadub and Detroit’s Underground Resistance. There was a shared sense of survival and resistance, of operating against commercial systems.

Passarani recalls “The first time I found a sheet of paper inside an Underground Resistance 12” with info about upcoming releases... and a huge picture of Spock on the back. Imagine that: you love the music, you love Star Trek, and there’s someone on the other side of the ocean sharing those same values and sounds. It was the perfect match. We even gave our original company the suffix ‘Finalfrontier’: that says it all.”

Feedback in that era arrived physically: distributor faxes, conversations with visiting DJs, the experience of playing abroad and meeting kids who had connected with the records. Glasgow became a key node in a scattered outlier network. Passarani personally brought the first two Nature releases to Fat Cat in London, playing them in-store. Shortly after, a fax arrived from Rubadub in Glasgow requesting copies.

“I still remember that phone buzz and the fax paper slowly sliding out, with someone I didn’t know saying they wanted 75 copies of Nature 001. Or like the time we got a fax from the Rephlex crew just saying, “Hello Nature Records, Keep up the good work.” That was how we knew the message was getting through. It was a fantastic feeling; just one piece of thermal fax paper as an analog notification - the mood for the entire week would change.” - Passarani

The connection to Glasgow has since stretched across generations. As Passarani reflects, links often fracture as scenes renew themselves, but in Glasgow something different happened. New and old mixed seamlessly. There was a visible trust in what came before, and a willingness to carry it forward rather than discard it. Observed from Rome, it was deeply encouraging.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 captures that moment of exchange: Rome to Glasgow, Detroit to Europe, experiment to dancefloor. It documents an artist recalibrating his sound and a network of scenes discovering one another in real time, connected by vinyl, faxes and shared intent.

Portal Replica welcomes cult Australian duo, B(if)tek, onto the label with a first-time-on-vinyl release of their debut album ‘Sub-vocal Theme Park’ released in 1996 exclusively onto CD. The 2x12” release includes the original album, plus additional never-heard-before 'lost' tracks from the pair. The album has been mastered by Rashad Becker at Clunk Studios (DE) and pressed to 180g heavyweight vinyl.

Kate Crawford and Nicole Skelty’s pioneering electro-femme outfit ‘B(if)tek’ can be traced back to 1994 in Canberra, where lack of blueprint blossomed their playful and bizarre experimentations in techno — ‘feminism with a wink and a bleep’. Thirty years on, the uniqueness and ingenuity of B(if)tek’s deep analogue exploration endures.

“Monstrous clowns dressed as princes whose role is to laugh at themselves and entertain outlandish beings, suffocated by etiquette, conspiracy and lies, bound by confession and remorse … and beyond that, the auto-da-fe and silence.” – Ferdinand (Pierrot), from the film “Pierrot Le Fou” .

Photography by Kate Crawford.
Design by Jesse Sappell.
Mastered by Rashad Becker at Clunk Studios, DE.

Visionary producer Ibrahim Alfa Jr, who's been traversing the rave's farthest fringes since the late '90s, returns with his most focused and concise set to date, an anthology of undulating, bass-heavy experiments that surveys techno and its distorted history, printing fractured pulses and cybernetic synths over vanishing snapshots of jazz, funk, trip-hop, broken beat, dub and ambient music. It's a body of work that coalesced during a difficult time for Alfa.

After returning to Brighton and sobriety in 2022, he was diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism, subsequently suffering two debilitating heart attacks. With his immune system compromised, isolation was the only option, so for months on end Alfa devoted each waking hour to his art, recording samples, building digital synths and effects and meticulously sequencing some of his waviest, most experimental material to date. Over this period he finished over 500 tracks, writing impulsively and constantly challenging himself. "There was nothing to hold me back," he explains. "I just had music, I didn't know if I would see the next day."

Now recovered from his ordeal, Alfa looks back at this prolific period with optimism and fondness. It was a chance for him to reconnect with his art holistically, writing purely for himself without any outside influence. Because, at this stage in his life, Alfa has already been through a series of artistic evolutions. When he was still just a teenager, he penned a slew of grinding, jacking techno 12"s (under a variety of mysterious monikers) in the late '90s before re-emerging a decade ago with the acclaimed 'Hidden By The Leaves', an album made up of deeply personal archival tracks that were thought to have been lost. A few years later, Alfa returned wholeheartedly with a series of records for Mille Plateaux that redrew the boundaries of his "Black political music without words." And on 'Infinite Black Inside', those different strands are muddled with Alfa's profound life experiences and he expresses himself free of any self-imposed boundaries, writing quickly on a hybrid analog-digital setup to document as many ideas as possible.

There's a palpable sense of liberation that drives the album's opening track, 'Subutrax', lubricating polyrhythms that isolate the connective tissue between footwork and Detroit techno as they slip between looped electric piano vamps and vaporous synths. On 'Naked Lunchbreak' meanwhile, the beat generation's excesses are illustrated by mesmeric fast-paced acoustic drums that Alfa balances out with brassy drones and euphoric keys. He captures rubbery hits from a Ghanaian djembe on 'Drum Slinger', re-sequencing them into seismic waves that rumble underneath live woodwind blasts. And on 'Capture', decelerated breaks and garbled voices tumble into humid pads, suspending the album somewhere between the chill-out room and the night sky. It's a record of new beginnings and fresh narratives that collapses the hardcore continuum, revealing a sonic signature that's Alfa's alone.

Both multi-instrumentalists and seasoned producers, J and Peter took an all-hands-on-deck approach to these original collaborative tracks. The sonic seeds of "Underappreciated" and "Facile" were planted by Peter, JKriv cooked up the demo of "Over Suffa", and all three were completed together in J’s Brooklyn production studio. With live-recorded guitar, bass, analog synths, and drums/percussion by and a cohort of Brooklyn accomplices, the Facile EP marries live elements with modern club-ready production.

The punchy horns and no-nonsense vocals on "Underappreciated" come via Peter’s long-standing stage and studio connection with Ibibio Sound Machine, Favorite Recordings staple singer Olivya delivers the soulful EP title track performance, and Samy Love’s insistent vocal on "Over Suffa" is a pleading message to end the war and suffering in his native Cameroon.

With a remix of "Underappreciated" by French producer extraordinaire Yuksek, songs in both English and French, and influences ranging from boogie funk, 80s R&B, and classic Zouk, the Facile EP is a varied and dazzling collection of music for both listeners and DJs alike.

MariJah joins the Jah Embassy Players for this powerful showcase.
Conscious lyrics & roots inspired vibes with an upfull message.

For the decennial release on Punctuality Warsaw duo W.A.C., aka Private Press step up with their Forever W.A.C EP. Moving away from their more techno-oriented offerings, Forever W.A.C. keeps the tempo and energy of their earlier work but suffuses the mood with warm, glowing trance and prog energy. This is peak-time Punctuality business in its purest form– on time as ever. “No More No Show” comes in hot from the get-go: galloping snare rolls, raved-up breakbeats, uplifting pads, big basslines, acid licks, and the low-end wubs that have become synonymous with the Punctuality sound. One for that point in the night when the dancefloor has melted into sweaty, eyes-closed, hands-up amorphia.

Barely recognisable to its original counterpart, the Rhyw remix strips the A1 down to the bare essentials. Preserving only a few percussive elements, the euphoria of No More No Show is replaced with hazy, cinematic synth washes that drone around a skeletal groove loaded with bassweight, warping the original into a dubbed out psychedelic UK stepper. Shifting to the morning light, “Only Froggerz” is a shimmering roller that ebbs and flows around barreling kick drums, kaleidoscopic synth lines, and vaporous FX, with lustrous chord work driving the emotion dial to 11. Elegant and restrained but relentlessly pummeling, it’s early-morning club gear at its finest.

Rounding out the EP with an essential slice of modern prog, “Close” utilises all the good bits: skippy basslines, filtered squelches, tribal-leaning percussion, and a relentless groove that builds around the subtle interplay between the stabs and the vocals. An epic closer that feels as true to the Punctuality canon as ever.

Very limited numbers, orders will need to be confirmed.

For his new album, Irreparable Parables, Andrew Wasylyk felt a strong desire to write a set of songs featuring an element hitherto rare in his work: the human voice. Equally strong was the conviction that he did not want to sing them himself.

The Scottish multi-instrumentalist and composer set about assembling a group of guest singers, sending out the songs to wherever they were in the world. The vocals were recorded remotely and then, like migrating birds, winged their way back to Scotland. The result is an album of great beauty which, perhaps preeminently in Wasylyk’s work, expresses the vulnerability and resilience of the human spirit.

Six singers appear on the record, represented by six songbirds illustrated on the sleeve by Clay Pipe Music’s Frances Castle. The cuckoo is a nod to Belle and Sebastian’s 2004 single ‘I’m A Cuckoo’, that band’s Stuart Murdoch being the first voice you hear on the new album. When the vocal for ‘Private Symphony #2’ arrived, says Wasylyk, “it was everything that I was looking for and more. But this is Stuart Murdoch. Of course he’s going to make something incredibly beautiful and thoughtful.”

The song lyrics were, for the most part, written by the singers. The music is Wasylyk’s creation. He navigates a sound world that lies somewhere beyond the borders of classical and jazz, ambient and abstract. It is difficult to describe, but easy to understand, which is to say to feel. That is the way Wasylyk’s work is experienced: as a feeling. It takes you back to childhood, perhaps, to feelings of comfort and safety, or to memories of walks at sunrise and sunset, or to the way a shadow falls on a particular field in a particular place at a particular time in your life. This is consoling music. That is why, though pretty, it is not merely pretty. These are songs to shore up the soul.

Wasylyk writes in a room, in his native Dundee, full of “half broken” instruments. He picks these up, plays a little, seeking an idea, a feeling, a door that lies ajar. The musical palette of Irreparable Parables includes brass and woodwind, a six-piece string section, guitar, bass, drums, vibraphone, Mellotron, Fender Rhodes, tape loops, synthesisers and percussion. The strings were arranged by the cellist Pete Harvey, a long-term collaborator.

Among the other guest vocalists are Gruff Rhys of the Super Furry Animals, Saya Ueno from Japan’s Tenniscoats and Peter Brewis from Field Music. Wasylyk himself takes the lead vocal on the title track, though a throat infection and touch of pitch-shifting have altered his singing in a way that even he, having fallen out of love with his own voice, finds acceptable.

The heart of the record can, arguably, be found in two tracks, ‘Love Is A Life That Lasts Forever’ and ‘Spectators In The Absence of God’, sung respectively by Molly Linen and Kathryn Joseph. The former, bright with trumpets, was inspired by the writing of Derek Jarman. “I was feeling deeply upset about the world and wanted to try and write some- thing that was obviously hopeful,” Wasylyk says.

‘Spectators …’ offers an emotional counterpoint. It is an “apocalyptic hymn” that seems to grapple with watching human suffering from afar, too distant to be at physical risk, but experiencing the psychological wounding, and feelings of helplessness, even complicity, that come with constant awareness of other people’s pain. “Kathryn’s a pal, I love her dearly, and she’s a brilliant artist who really feels what she writes,” Wasylyk says. “The cracked tenderness of her voice is spellbinding.”

The album closes with an instrumental piece, ‘Soul Enters The Ocean Sun Climbs Out Of The Sea’, all piano and strings, that offers a sense of resolution and ascension. A good moment, too, for Wasylyk to reflect upon the artistic companionship that he enjoyed while making this record – the songbirds that answered his call: “These humans are incredible at what they do. I’m deeply grateful and feel so lucky. It blows my mind.”

Stepping up for Punctuality number 8 is the dynamic duo of Ciel and Matthis Ruffing. Needing little introduction, both artists are prolific producers and collaborators across tempos and genres. Toronto-based Ciel has released music on labels like NAFF, Peach Discs, and !K7, while Berliner Matthis Ruffing’s work can be found on International Chrome, Infinite Drift, and Strictly Strictly, to name just a few.

Bonding over a shared love for the techno stylings of Claude Young and early 2000s tech/prog house from labels like Future Groove and Slide, the duo’s collaboration began with a spontaneous jam in Ruffing’s Berlin studio during the summer of 2022. With an organic studio chemistry, the pair continued to jam over the following years. Hot Squid is the result of these studio experiments: five tracks of sleek, muscular, contemporary tech house that fluidly distill the creative visions of both artists—slick, shimmering grooves, heavily weighted for the dancefloor.

The title track, Hot Squid, weaves dubbed-out waves of FX and low-end sonics around metallic, staccato drum bursts, sci-fi pads, stuttered vocals, and syncopated snares that flit and flicker around a rolling bassline reminiscent of golden-era UK tech house from the late ’90s. Roza Terenzi’s remix flips the original into a modern, low-stepping tek roller—a mind-bending re-fix that puts more focus on the snaking vocal groove and a sparser percussion arrangement, filled out with lustrous textures and razor-precise sound design.

On Little Voice, glossy synths and spiraling atmospherics cascade around a mesmeric vocal line, while tightly wound, minimal drum loops give way to a swaggering bassline that barely relents throughout the track. The result is a satisfyingly boshy, groove-driven roller, fit for the dancefloor at any time of day.
Late Summer maintains the EP’s high-grade production standard in the form of a dreamy, electro-leaning tech house number, resplendent with deep, pummeling kick drums, woozy low-end, and organic sonics. Its plucked melody and introspective pads nod to halcyon-era IDM and the Detroit techno that inspired the duo in creating Hot Squid.

The release culminates in Bong Bong—a meditative dancefloor tool suffused with ASMR-like nature documentary samples that lend the track a psychedelic intimacy. Careening percussion lines and swooning chord stabs anchor the rhythm, while the title’s “Bong Bong” mantra hums beneath the surface, carried along by barely perceptible sub fills and ultra-processed percussion. A cohesive, unique, and enduring take on seminal tech house and Detroit techno from Ciel and Matthis Ruffing.

If – in some parallel universe (or perhaps a not-so-distant-future version of the one we’re already sentenced to living in) – the evil overloads of artificial intelligence were actually successful in their attempts to create convincingly enjoyable “original music,” more specifically tasked with wholly encapsulating my own personal tastes by data-chugging some cocktail of – oh, I don’t know – the posters on my wall, the records in my “most listened to” pile, the mixtapes I made for others, intensive physical scans of my auditory cortex, amygdala, hippocampus, heart strings, whatever else they have splayed out on their autopsy table with the intention of generating one all-encompassing “perfect band” based on the fruitful sum of their findings – that band, for me, would be (or would at least sound exactly like) the Tara Clerkin Trio. It is, quite simply, without exception, the music I wish to hear.

Formed in Bristol UK (where none of them are from yet all of whom are deeply engrained) in 2020, the Tara Clerkin Trio – as it somewhat democratically exists today, despite the singular authority implied by its name – consists of the titular Tara Clerkin, her partner Sunny Joe Paradisos, and Sunny’s brother, Patrick Benjamin. I’ll confess, I don’t know what their respective roles are within the operation and there’s only a very small part of me that cares to learn, as one of my favorite qualities in an objective listening experience is the mystery of who is playing what, which sounds are “authentic” versus synthesized, which chunks are performed “live” in a room together versus meticulously Frankenstein’ed from measure to measure, or how exactly the overall sound is so (seemingly) effortlessly achieved. Though, I suspect, if and when I do witness a live performance by this band at any point, my enjoyment of the music will not be lost in my better understanding of it.

With two extraordinary mini-albums – In Spring (2021) and On The Turning Ground (2023) – making a splash on London’s formidable World of Echo label in wake of their self-titled 2020 debut, this upcoming Somewhere Good LP is, in many ways, the band’s most realised work. In running their usual gauntlet of idiosyncratic (*an overused adjective for which here there is regrettably no sufficient alternative) approaches, Clerkin & co. colour in and outside of compositional lines over the course of 40+ celebratory minutes - never wallowing, despite inherently somber subject matters of self-defeat, disease, displacement, restlessness, gentrification - allowing their arrangements and improvisations ample space and time to situate, stretch out, breathe, cross-pollinate, and ultimately take deeper hold on the listener’s imagination – all while somehow sounding more like themselves than ever before.

Of course, there are traceable influences herein, if one felt that such comparisons were necessary to properly examine and enjoy this music (they aren’t)… Being the big dumb American from the small boring town that I am, cornfed on ‘90s alternative radio with the enchantingly exotic sounds of Maxinquaye and Mezzanine emanating from my chunky tube television, I can’t help but to make a blatantly obvious reference to a “Bristol sound”, ie the whole trip-hop trip, the pastoral crooning over the suggestive urban grime of cracked electro/piano treatments, the digitally-yet-primitively reconstructed James Bond soundtrack string-beats, etc.. But the Tara Clerkin Trio is so infinitely much more than that. There are elements of avant-pop, modern classical, kraut-folk, audio verité, dare I say indie rock (and not of the beer guzzling, masturbatory fuzz-flex variety but perhaps more like a Trish Keenan-fronted Faust, Adrian Sherwood at the mixing desk of If You’re Feeling Sinister, or – in expanding on our alternate reality – a world in which High Llamas cut a full-length for Warp Records with Andrew Weatherall on coffee duty).

The hazy, unmappable skyline-mirage of droning harmonium, upright bass, peculiarly accentuated wind instruments, acoustic guitar, hushed yet literally mighty keys combine to hypnotizing effect. The band may make underlying nods to jazz, sure, but it’s not appropriation, it’s that they have the actual chops to build it out. Beneath the janky samples and oddball percussive embellishment lies actually great drumming. Beyond the manipulated vocal witchery and woefully reflective plain-spoke moments are Tara’s subtly inspired melodies, sung with what might honestly be the glue to the whole crazy equation. A calming consistency throughout the otherwise unpredictably dynamic, boldly intuitive, uniquely British exploration of this (their own) universe in song. – Ryan Davis (Chicago, February 2026)

Every so often in music, we come across voices that achieve a certain timelessness, so naturally do they encapsulate both past and present. Laure Briard is one of these voices, retro in form but contemporary at heart, spanning a career rich in aesthetic twists and turns, never without her signature magic, a special kind of eternal filter. Her first album, Révélation (2015), reveals her yé-yé influences, a testament to her love for ‘60s French pop music. Her second studio album, Sur la piste de danse (2016), follows in this vein and finds Laure accompanied as always by her long-time bandmates who share an affinity for warm, catchy arrangements that never lose their appeal. Her tour of Brazil marks a turning point in her career, introducing her to the local indie scene and thus launching her collaboration with the band Boogarins, as well as inspiring the release of multiple EPs composed and performed in Portuguese. Today, her music is embellished by touches of bossa nova and a folk sensibility, boasting increasingly intricate arrangements, as exemplified by her 2019 release, Un peu plus d'amour s'il vous plaît. Several years later, the Californian desert captures the musician’s imagination with Ne pas trop rester bleue, a poignant musical journey inspired by the rich history of Western legends and the role they play in shaping our collective consciousness.

In Voyage Mental, Laure Briard draws upon an inner energy unearthed during a new stage in her life, where the thrill of spontaneous adventure is not accessible in quite the same way. The result is a collection of sophisticated, introspective songs, narrating a young mother’s quest for balance in the face of routine. The album, nostalgic but always tethered to the present moment, is also the fruit of her collaboration with Gaëtan Nonchalant, a talented musician known for coaxing poetry out of the mundane. The two of them co-wrote and recorded five tracks at Studio Nocturne, accompanied by her long-time sidekick Pieuvre, aka Vincent Guyot, Léo Blomov, Pierre-Louis Vizioz, and Hedi Bensalem. The gentle pop opener “Rocking Chair” sways steadily to the rhythm of dynamic drums, followed by “Train,” a ballad that extends an invitation to set sail and daydream alone. The folk escapade continues with “Golden Sun,” a duet featuring the 1960s cult American musician F.J. McMahon, who Laure contacted via the internet on a whim. “Golden Sun” is an unlikely encounter between two generations and two cultures, giving new life to an old forgotten demo on the other side of the Atlantic. And while Laure sings of wide open spaces, cowboys, and sunsets sinking into the sea, we feel the city surrounding her in “Miroir,” a song composed by Hedi Bensalem that laments the suffocation of living in a crowded metropolis where the sky is a distant gray smudge. This pressing need for air, this search for rest and total disconnection, is one of the album's central themes. It may also explain the ever-present sense of nostalgia that pervades the songs, a welcome respite in our current era of doomscrolling and darkness. Along the way, Laure soothes us with melancholy guitar, delivers poetry set to scattered piano notes, and takes us by the hand during lively, uptempo passages. We climb onto her wings, never straying too far from the ground, soaring joyfully above her moods.

Bézier ripples their way back to Dark Entries with Decompose, an LP of doomed spa music. Multi-instrumentalist Robert Yang has made numerous appearances on Dark Entries for more than a decade, with releases spanning the stylistic gamut from hi-NRG disco floor-fillers to lush ambient epics. Decompose, Bézier’s second LP, is perhaps his most introspective work yet. It is an album almost ten years in the making, a deep investigation of life, loss, and the struggle of knowing oneself. If one were to pull a tarot deck for this album it would be the Nine of Swords. The album honors the lives of the fallen victims of Pulse Nightclub. It honors lives lost or suffering through the ongoing genocide in Gaza. The title track takes the form of a Buddhist chant, a brooding synth-driven meditation that scales steadily until breaking into John Carpenter-esque arpeggios halfway through. Tracks like “Egg,” “Marionette,” and “A Fading Citadel Atop Black Sand Bluffs” build on this soundworld, one in which intricate melodies and cavernous reverb induce in the listener feelings of both claustrophobia and free-fall. The album’s dancefloor-leaning moments, like “Codebreaking” and “Split a Path Towards the Thicket” are spartan, tunnel-vision techno tracks speeding towards ego-death. Decompose chronicles Yang’s journey to find peace with himself, as a gay Asian American. During this process, they learned to “repot” long-lost parts of their identity so they could grow forth in wholesome fashion. The sleeve for Decompose was designed by Eloise Shir-Juen Leigh, and features a photograph by Frankie Casillo of Robert laying on a bed of rocks in savasana pose, resembling an ascetic, evocative of the monastic vibes of the record.

Accepting the darkness can be a liberating experience. Realising, and struggling with just who we are and what world we live in requires it. By further complicating the fractured sense of beauty found on his droning 2022 release, ‘I dreamt we found a way’, Bristol-based composer, Rob Winstone creates a language that encapsulates the lifelong reach for our own personal heavens, along with the darkness and fear on which those foundations are built.

Winstone’s instrumental palette continues to reach out far from behind his keyboards, however the sound of ‘sifting through heaven’ is stripped back and pared down, putting melody front and centre. 'postcards and loose tea', a love song written for Winstone’s partner during a period coming to terms with health difficulties had previously self-released with heavy spectral and granular manipulation from the artist. Here Winstone re-presents the original: “the stripped back recording I made in my old damp and cold studio that was in a building that has since been demolished”. It reflects the composer’s own journey, doing away with veils and histrionics, and embracing emotional bliss wherever it can be found, warts and all. Even the rumbling dark ambience of ’hospital corridor’ - where distant chimings, groans, and droplets synthesized from field recordings made nervously in a hospital waiting for test results coalesce - harbours a sacred-seeming beauty and aseptic warmth within its very bleak sense of dread.

There’s no better way to describe Winstone’s method than ‘sifting through heaven’. The hymnal organ chords, sketched out acoustic guitar phrases, scattering drum thuds, and meditative field recordings may flit between tenebrous to incandescent, but his focus is always on the embrace of love; “a view of life that embraces positive growth, yet doesn't deny immense suffering,” as he puts it. The album is bookended by two of Winstone’s most outright peaceful moments, summarising his core message: 'in spite of it all...' '...love finds a way'.

Andreas Tilliander returns to Kontra-Musik in a grand style with his second TM404 album. Titled 'Acidub', this highly anticipated release is much more of an evolution than a repetition of the first superbly self-restricted album, where Tilliander even decided to use only one of the two Roland TB-303 waveforms. Acidub is a more playful and open listening experience, no doubt inspired by his extensive live touring with the TM404 concept. In fact, you can almost hear Tilliander's flock of acid machines breaking free from the restrained modus operandi. Every sound is like a migratory bird with a heart yearning for high altitude and favourable winds. The opening track Alinge paints a lucid picture of these acid birds leaving a cold industrial landscape behind, the flickering black shadows from their wings against the white smoke rising from a forest of chimneys below. The very last seconds of Alinge even echo of the place the silver birds are longing for, but that will remain a secret between Kontra-Musik and the avid listener. Sufficient to say, we can follow these birds of passage as they're heading south towards a warmer climate, fleeing the cold discipline of the North. Mutron Mantra, for instance, brings us to a rainforest full of serpentine lianas, giant leaves dripping with moist and green pools of water bubbling with organic life. Don't Defend Mascot guides us through a steaming savannah at dusk with hundreds of yellow eyes following our every step while Pade vividly describes the perils of the flight and the pace and courage needed to press on. In all, Acidub is a surprisingly exuberant follow-up to the more introspective TM404 album. But while the musical journey of this second album is quite different, the experience of sheer aural eminence remains the same. Andreas Tilliander has done it again, and Kontra-Musik couldn't be prouder.

Vel initiates the «Cuddle Protocol», her first ambient album, set for release on October 17, 2025 on PURR.


Vel, recognized for her striking presence in the contemporary techno scene, steps into new territory with the release of her first ambient album, Cuddle Protocol (P:\URR(3)_Cuddle_Protocol), the third outing on her own label PURR. Out October 17, 2025, the 9-track record is a personal and intimate statement, delivered on vinyl and digital formats.


With Cuddle Protocol, Vel explores the paradox of intimacy in a coded world. “I like the idea of a protocol for softness,” she explains, “of codifying something that should be intimate and spontaneous.” This tension runs through the album: fragile voices and soft layers unfold against serious, carefully structured arrangements, balancing tenderness with rigor.


Ambient music has always been Vel’s “first love.” Before producing techno, she composed ambient exclusively, and this album marks a return to the form in its most sincere expression. “I know this music will follow me all my life. It’s not a phase. It’s how I express myself most truthfully.”
Cuddle Protocol is about slowing down, embracing sincerity, and reaching for deeper connection. “When I listen to ambient, I access another world. It’s charged with emotion, it makes me drift and forget everything. That’s the feeling I wanted to share.”
Mastering: Sixbitdeep / Artwork: Adone Giuntini

2025 Repress

“UR wonders” What happens to jazz if combined with the current electronic sound tools used to make Detroit techno now?
What might Jazz sound like if the inspirational pioneers of fusion ie; Return to Forever, Astral Pirates or Weather Report had access to the music production technology available now or in the future?
The artform called Jazz was a unique reflection of “The African American experience here in the United States.Unfortunately by the 90″s it had been compromised by major record companies and made “smoother” for mainstream consumption and more profits.
Born in America’s rural black south Rock & Roll had suffered the same fate years earlier. Original artists eventually replaced by well studied clones and corporate mega profits!! Also happening the original artform of jazz appeared to be caught, processed & throughly EXPLAINED by people who sought to intellectualize “struggle & human emotion” into mere words and then benefit immensely financially by being authorities on the subject.
Hmm sound familiar?

As you watch the current intellectual colonization of the urban inner city African American art forms house music, hip-hop, Jungle & Detroit techno get studied, bent, twisted renamed and turned into EDM profit formulas.

There stands records like Nation 2 Nation that defy these definitions and inspire the next generation of Pioneers who continue the undefined exploration of Jazz like Derek Jamerson, Jon Dixon, Raphael Merriweathers, Desean Jones, Timeline, Galaxy 2 Galaxy, Raphael Statin & Ian Finkelstein. Mother to daughter, Father to son,

Nation 2 Nation a work inspired and that inspired what’s next.