Cerca:sun people look within

Arpy Brown & Kapote Announce Collaborative Album Memento Ludi via Toy Tonics

A sun-drenched fusion of yacht rock, house and modern indie dance energy – out June 26, 2026
BERLIN, GERMANY — Toy Tonics is proud to announce Memento Ludi, the first collaborative album by label founder Kapote and multi-instrumentalist producer Arpy Brown, arriving June 26, 2026.
The album is a funk-driven journey that bridges the warmth of 1970s analog recordings with the pulse of contemporary dance music. Blending neo-soul grooves, yacht rock harmonies and modern house rhythms, Memento Ludi captures the spirit of classic musicianship within a forward-looking club context.

But Memento Ludi is more than a typical house record. The album moves fluidly between dancefloor tracks and fully developed songs. Every instrument was performed live by the artists themselves: guitars, bass, keyboards and percussion recorded in the studio by Arpy and Kapote. After jamming and recording the basis of every song in a live procedure they carefully resample the parts to create the organic, human touch that defines the Toy Tonics sound.

The title Memento Ludi — Latin for “remember to play” — reflects the album’s philosophy: bringing joy, spontaneity and musicality back into dance music at a time when many club tracks feel increasingly mechanical and formulaic.

The collaboration arrives during a particularly busy moment for both artists. While spending countless hours in the studio, Kapote and Arpy Brown have also maintained intensive international touring schedules with the Toy Tonics crew, road-testing many of the tracks as “secret weapons” in their DJ sets from Melbourne to Los Angeles via their homebase Berlin.

“We wanted to make a record that felt like a lost studio session from 1978 — resampled and synthesised in 2026,” says Kapote.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

After the acclaimed Bar Mediterraneo, Massimo Di Lena and Lucio Aquilina return with a new album that broadens the scope of their sound even further, sailing beyond the Pillars of Hercules into a constellation of gravity-defying creative freedom.

People Of The Moon is not an imagined cosmic species, but a dimension within us all. Deeply personal yet universally shared. An alternative way of thinking that lays dormant until we find the courage to untether it, helping us experience life more fully. It is that precious sphere of the soul that slips away from everyday life. A form of self-expression free from the social pressures that weigh on each, at every latitude on the planet.

Under the moonlight, these songs trace anxieties and aspirations, guided by the international language of groove and rhythmic motion, articulated in Neapolitan, Arabic, English, Spanish, and Portuguese. It speaks with equal clarity through the Afro-Cuban influences of Celavì (“That’s Life”), with its circular rhythmic energy, and through the Anatolian zurna of Ma Tu Che Bbuò (“What Do You Want?” in Neapolitan), moving from highlife guitars to the mandolins that have become a Nu Genea signature. New idioms and rhythms, filtered through an Italian perspective.

The first single Sciallà (“Go Away” in Neapolitan), released in the summer of 2025, already hinted at what was taking shape in the Nu Genea workshop - a radiant guide to embracing difficulty and finding relief in dance. Not so much an escape, but a form of catharsis. Looking up at the giant mirror ball orbiting above us, we catch a glimpse of our best selves reflected back, and appreciate that the People Of The Moon invoked in the title track are more familiar than we first realised.

There’s a kind of resilience in these voices that isn’t loud or triumphant, but persistent and rooted in the simple act of continuing. The imagery of high-speed motion is central to Onenon (“On and On”), where British singer and multi-instrumentalist Tom Misch helps conjure a Mediterranean brit-funk reminiscent of Pino D’Angiò’s basslines.

The voice in Acelera (“Speed Up” in Spanish) summons the strength to chase the moon as if it were an unattainable ideal, in this Andalusian-tinged track featuring María José Llergo, who also lends her voice to Celavì. Both tracks are among the more languorous arrangements, with flamenco palmas introducing an original fusion into the Nu Genea groove.
With its driving momentum, Puleza (“Clean Up” in Neapolitan) recalls the spirit of Nuova Napoli, albeit with vintage synth textures and wild, unrestrained delays. The track’s protagonist, performed by Fabiana Martone, is another of our lunar dwellers.

Yet even when it leans into forward motion, People Of The Moon doesn’t pulse at a frantic pace, moving instead through shifting states of speed, orbit, and suspension. In fact, the Levantine bossa nova Shway Shway (“Slowly, Slowly” in Arabic), sung by Celinatique, captures the orbital motion of the entire record. Not exactly slow, but measured. Rich in color, and marked by a rhythmic complexity that was also heard on the duo’s rare access to foundational afrobeat on The Tony Allen Experiments.
All the while, the album remains deeply attuned to melody - a Nu Genea hallmark - as heard in the effervescent hook of Carè (“Falling” in Neapolitan). In the lunar microgravity of these ten tracks, falling and flying become interchangeable with dancing as ways of following the beat, suspended yet compelled to move. That compulsion is also invoked by Brazilian percussionist Gabriel Prado, making his vocal debut on Ondas Do Mar (“Waves Of The Sea” in Portuguese). The pull of the waves, a constant interplay of motion and return, steady as a lunar phase, is impossible to resist. One might as well lean into the blue, not to dissolve but to rebuild. “Você vai ver que dentro de nós / vai rolar”: you’ll see that something will happen within us.

2026 Repress

If ever an album could transport you to the hazy sunshine and imagined halcyon paradise of Southern California in the mid-1980s, could capture the early evening warmth of hanging at an inclusive boogie jam as it approaches “magic hour” in Santa Ana or Anaheim, then it’s Vaughan Mason and Butch Dayo’s Feel My Love. A brilliantly produced deep slung, low rider funk classic originally released on Salsoul in 1983. It’s a masterpiece of “funk love music”.

Yes, this is indeed a perfectly formed five track “mini LP” of unparalleled heat, but there’s one song here that, above the rest, represents Orange County boogie-funk. A straight killer beloved by all that have had the pleasure of moving to it. A track that can fill up a dance floor within seconds of its starting. That song is the eternal title track, “Feel My Love”.

This is a work of art that made people fall in love with the funk. It transcends the limitations of genre. “Feel My Love”’s deceptive simplicity makes it perfect to drop during a house set, a classic funk party or at a west coast rap jam. It’s sexy, deeply emotional, melancholic, hopeful, passionate and just radiates so, so much raw energy. This is music.

The rest of the record is hardly filler though. Opener “Oh, Love” is a dizzying, emotional slow jam. With heaven-sent vocals riding gorgeous, sweeping keys that alternate between sweet twinkling lines and funk-fuelled stabbing. It’s sensational. A rollerskating jam named “Rollalong Songs” is an ultra-swish piece of dance floor dynamite. Its slick drums, staccato piano and neck snapping claps underscore Dayo’s buoyant vocals. It’s essentially “Bounce, Rock, Skate, Roll Part II”.

The flip begins with “Party On The Corner”. Smoother than silk vocals, day-glo synths, a bubbling bassline and guitar licks that surely received the Prince seal of approval. It’s another example of how Vaughan Mason and Butch Dayo flirt with perfection so routinely. The most majestic closer, the kaleidoscopic, cow-bell-assisted synth-funk heater “You Can Do It” is a proto-rap groover that truly smokes.

This prized LP is a stone cold jam and finding original copies on vinyl at affordable prices has been tough for years. Mastered brilliantly by Simon Francis, cut by Pete Norman and with lovingly reproduced artwork, this fresh Be With reissue ensures this legendary LP now sounds, looks and feels as sensational as it should.

'Intensely textured, interlocking guitar riffs weave together on New Bright Object, the debut album from Berlin and Edinburgh-based duo I’m Not You.

Working under the name I’m Not You, artist Alex Gibbs (bass & vocals) and sound designer Niall McCallum (guitar & drums) have honed a sound that draws in equal measure from jazz funk of Weather Report and the math rock of Don Caballero. Their debut album, New Bright Object is their most developed statement to date, an intricate, robust and unique collection of songs born from serpentine jam sessions in rural idylls.

The duo make no secret of their admiration for bands like Battles and Tortoise. They reference Jim O’Rourke’s lounge numbers and the droll lyricism of Modern Lovers’ Jonathan Richman. There’s a touch of Vini Reilly in their sparse and serpentine guitar lines. A hint perhaps of Mogwai. All these names place New Bright Object within a constellation of albums made with bigger budgets for wider audiences.

New Bright Object opens In a flash of light, comet-like, with the sound of ‘Mr. Wind- Up Bird’. The threads they weave are full with intent, as moments of density rise like hills from the track’s quieter valleys. It’s easy to imagine the pair looking out over the rolling fields of the garden studio in East Lothian where they recorded the album, as they assiduously try and draw their own landscapes in sound.

Similarly, there is a crispness to ‘A Certain Arrangement Of Atoms’ - every clipped hat, rim-shot snare and tightly wound tom a fine-tipped mark on the score. It is intricate and precise, a result perhaps of Niall’s attention to detail. Then there is the piano, Alex’s grandmother’s, slightly out of tune, which adds a few expressionist strokes to this pointillist composition. The piece loosens, until all we’re left with is the bass.

Although the album orbits around the pendulum sway of ‘The Older I Get’, it is ‘What Cats Think About’ that stands out most. That it does is by design – a nod to the Sun City Girls and albums that like to throw their listeners a curveball every now and then. Pleasantly ramshackle, confusingly domestic, agreeably strange.

All this speaks to the spirit of the album and the creative relationship between two best friends whose differences seem to have been the only things they could agree on.'

It’s very difficult to describe someone as prolific as Misha Panfilov. So, I feel the best way to define him is to think of a “Trivial Pursuit Playing Piece,” where each pie piece represents one of the bands he heads up, and each band has its own distinct style and genre. Yet, when looked at all together, create the whole musical persona of Misha. This is the lens I would like to view his latest endeavor, Days As Echoes.

The vibe on this sophomore release channels Krautrock philosophy and Library music, peppered with elements of jazz, Ethiopian, cinema, ambient and bits of everything between. This atmosphere is created from all the instruments Misha uses and the resulting compositions are heard as repetitive patterns that are forged from the multiple layering of melodies. Thus, creating six unique songs with emotional granularity, yet collectively encompass a genuinely positive “feel good” vibe…with a hint of nostalgia.

Moods of the day, moods like echoes say, A future of hope is yours, by following the Sun’s ray.

The opening track, “Days As Echoes,” is a dedication to a much simpler time when the sky was bluer and the snow was whiter…just like how you remember it when you were a child. A time when people honestly cared more about everything as a given, and not as a selfish accolade. A time when optimism seemed within reach. In other words, nostalgia marred by awareness.

…Leading to a path where the skies are not gray. Where dreams of castles in the air are the mainstay.

“In A Dream” has a style that pays homage to both spiritual jazz and ambient music. A simple theme is introduced and leads to the climax of this stormy dream, putting it all in perspective. That pivotal point when one realizes the truth by re-tracing the events, which led to the epiphany of how to find the answer while traveling within this airy soundscape.

…Diurnal or nocturnal, day or night, Traveling the path of truth must be done without fright.

One can’t help but feel a definite traveling vibe that comes from “Moonscape Waltz” To me, it has a dual-characteristic that can be visualized as a train trip, either at sunrise or sunset. Regardless, the time is not of major relevance, but the actual pursuit is. Lao Tzu said, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with that first step.” This track takes you beyond that initial step into this vast world toward your destination as you search for the truth.

…The unknown is real, but you know the deal. People need people to show which direction you point the wheel.

“Together” is the most peaceful and solo oriented compositions of this album. It shows how one cannot achieve happiness alone, but the importance of having someone special or a group of others to help along the way. Not only to help seek your goal, but also the ability to enjoy the scenery while on your journey

…The end of this tunnel has a light that’s so bright. Illuminating the trodden way, your destination, now in sight.

One is free from the chains of the unknown as you listen to a “Few Layers For Smith”, a dedication to a friend. A song that draws energy from the ECM works of Steve Reich, thats married with a primitive lo-fi basement setting. Its positive force breaks those encumbrances and gives you a glimpse of your prize. But you ruminate on this and come to the conclusion that the path that led you there is equally important as the goal itself. Question is, how do you share your realizations and experiences?

…The route was cast, the trials have passed. The glittering treasure you sought is yours now, at last.

“Ocean Song” meanders from the ritual rhythms of its shoreline to the crashing riptides of unbridled guitar feedback, creating this raging ocean atmosphere. However, its message is quite clear and states that people’s goals and experiences are not just meant for personal growth, but to be shared with
others, so that they too can live vicariously thru your story and somehow utilize it for their own.

…The prize has been won, but the journey is never done. You now have the responsibility to share everything under the Sun.

These six songs, each with its own sound, collectively comprise the vibe of this album. One cannot help but feel a sense of joy and fulfillment when listening to it. Each song has its own unique mood, yet together create an atmosphere of hope and happiness that has no choice but to spill out of the listener. I feel this was the ultimate goal of Misha’s on this record. Quite a challenge for the man who never sleeps, but is always searching for the perfect beat. One may not fully grasp his musical mind, but this album does give you a gateway into the moods and magic of Misha!

- Brent Sawicki

This authorised vinyl reissue of the ultimate Finnish death metal cult LP comes with the original cover art and all the lyrics. In the late days of the early life of death metal in the early nineties, the death metal "community" had strayed from an appreciation of the majestic possibilities of sound, and were making a mundane product instead. They wanted the most "brutal" sound so the largest crowd could hear it, consider themselves "extreme," and go back to work with a hangover. This made the music escape its tiny audience, but killed off exploration as well. In addition, it was defensive and under-confident, feeling its chops lagged behind the rock, blues and jazz genres. Stagnation struck even as the genre accelerated. Enter the dark horse, Demilich. These inventive Finns reintroduced amazement at the possibilities of music. Where most people look at a forest and see wood for sale, a death metal fan after Demilich sees an intricate organism in itself, with the smallest details corresponding to the broadest concepts. The labyrinthine riffs of Demilich corresponded to a worldview that saw the connection between details as a design, and a design as conferring a purpose to life, cycling between birth and death as it spelled out the cryptic intricacies of ancient mysteries. Demilich was like finding a submerged city, or discovering a new path through the mountains, or even confronting a glowering enemy on the open plain. It brought risk, uncertainty, ambiguity and a sense of sublime beauty back to death metal, pulling it away from the slump in which it treated itself as a hammer and every listener as a nail.

This authorised vinyl reissue of the ultimate Finnish death metal cult LP comes with the original cover art and all the lyrics. In the late days of the early life of death metal in the early nineties, the death metal "community" had strayed from an appreciation of the majestic possibilities of sound, and were making a mundane product instead. They wanted the most "brutal" sound so the largest crowd could hear it, consider themselves "extreme," and go back to work with a hangover. This made the music escape its tiny audience, but killed off exploration as well. In addition, it was defensive and under-confident, feeling its chops lagged behind the rock, blues and jazz genres. Stagnation struck even as the genre accelerated. Enter the dark horse, Demilich. These inventive Finns reintroduced amazement at the possibilities of music. Where most people look at a forest and see wood for sale, a death metal fan after Demilich sees an intricate organism in itself, with the smallest details corresponding to the broadest concepts. The labyrinthine riffs of Demilich corresponded to a worldview that saw the connection between details as a design, and a design as conferring a purpose to life, cycling between birth and death as it spelled out the cryptic intricacies of ancient mysteries. Demilich was like finding a submerged city, or discovering a new path through the mountains, or even confronting a glowering enemy on the open plain. It brought risk, uncertainty, ambiguity and a sense of sublime beauty back to death metal, pulling it away from the slump in which it treated itself as a hammer and every listener as a nail.

Nia Archives is the star at the forefront of the latest era of jungle. Since her emergence in 2020, her collagist soundscapes have helped bring the sound to a new generation of clubgoers (though fair warning: don’t call her a “revivalist” – she’s the first to point out that the scene never went away). So when it comes to talk of the 24-year-old producer, DJ, singer and songwriter’s much-anticipated debut album, the odds are you’re thinking of a full-length record of weightless jungle tracks with basslines so intense they’ll leave your ears ringing.

But the reality of the Bradford-born, Leeds-raised artist’s first ever album – while very much replete with that exquisite jungle sound she does so well – is also doing something a little different. On the thrilling and freeing Silence Is Loud, Nia Archives is looking to make music for beyond the rave. As she explains: “I think music can be experienced in different ways, and there’s different kinds of music for different scenarios. Say you’re at a festival listening to music with thousands of other people, that can feel really uniting. But then you might listen to an album on your own in the bus, or in a taxi; and this project is definitely more a record to sit and listen to than a collection of club tracks.” Nia is intent that Silence Is Loud is taken in as a full body of work of something “more song-focussed, putting interesting sounds on jungle.” It means that this is a record which finds gloomy Britpop, warm Motown, soaring indie, a love for Kings of Leon’s Aha Shake Heartbreak, skittering IDM, Madchester, classic rock, old skool hardcore and more, woven and fused into her ragga and junglist tapestry, all layered with feeling, imbued with her songwriterly lyricism about loneliness, relationships, family, navigating her 20s, and the intense potential power of silence.

The vast sonic palette on Silence Is Loud comes down to Nia’s broad array of influences through her life. With her Jamaican heritage, Nia remembers hearing jungle as a child via her nana, as well as at Bradford Carnival, where she was drawn to the soundsystem culture, dancing carefree on the floats in the parade. The first album she ever bought was Rihanna’s debut, Music of the Sun, and she also went to Pentecostal church back then, and was obsessed with gospel. Aged 16, she moved to Manchester, where she didn’t really know anybody: and so, her solution to meeting people was going out. “Partying was a huge part of my life,” she says, “They used to do little freestyle cyphers at the house parties and I would join in – that’s kind of how I got into singing.” She had found music boring at school, but in meeting all these new people she became interested in making her own music as a hobby. “I was making boom-bap kind of stuff which I didn’t really like in the end,” she laughs, “My lyrics are quite deep, so on a hip-hop beat it all sounds really depressing. I wanted people to dance to my music.” And so she began experimenting with faster tempos alongside that melancholy songwriting, teaching herself how to make beats on Logic: “It’s all been a lot of trial and error, really.”

Nia went to study music in London, and was also interested in visual art, making collages and VHS: “Before the music, I was trying to make a visual archive of my life and the people around me,” she explains, “And then my music was like my diary, and a sonic archive, as well.” Hence, she paired the word “archives” with her middle name, Nia. To this day, in her spare time she’s working on pulling together a documentary on the global nature of the jungle scene.

Back on those first two EPs, Headz Gone West (2021) and Forbidden Feelingz (2022), she honed that junglist sound, painting it with new flecks of colour and vibrance. It was only after she started releasing work that she realised pursuing music could be a viable life path for her. The decision has been paying off ever since. Nia Archives placed third in the prestigious BBC Sound Poll for 2023, alongside garnering a nomination for the Brit Awards’ Rising Star prize, plus wins at the DJ Mag, NME, the MOBOs and Artist and Manager Awards. She has also toured the world – be it North America, Europe or Asia – and even opened a show in London as part of a little something called Beyoncé’s Renaissance World Tour. She’s renowned as a party-starter in her own right, too, with takeovers at Glastonbury, Warehouse Project and her own Bad Gyalz day event. She’s done official remixes for the likes of Jorja Smith, had a huge summer hit with her Yeah Yeah Yeahs rework ‘Off Wiv Ya Headz’, and worked with brands like Corteiz, Nike, Flannels, Burberry, FIFA and Apple. In just three years, it’s fair to say that Nia Archives has become a need-to-know name in dance music.

But Nia is not interested in being one fixed thing. Building on the terrain from her third EP, Sunrise Bang Ur Head Against Tha Wall, the universe of Silence Is Loud is not totally unfamiliar territory; but it’s still emblematic of a bolder scope than we’ve heard from the artist before. Working with Ethan P. Flynn (the songwriter and producer known for his work with FKA twigs and David Byrne), the resulting record is an impressive feat of deftly-sculpted textures; sometimes big and euphoric, like the wobbly, lusty bass of ‘Forbidden Feelingz’, or elsewhere notably gentle and quiet – see: the gorgeous, surprisingly drumless ‘Silence Is Loud (Reprise)’, a heartfelt number that sits somewhere in the school of Adele. “I really sharpened my songwriting skill on this project,” Nia says, “I was really intentional about what I was writing about, and I really loved co-producing with Ethan. His process is so different to anyone I’ve worked with before, and he’s got a kind of DIY set-up like me.” Flynn’s flat overlooks the Barbican, adding that unquantifiable futurist urban quality that the area holds to the music. The pair enjoyed the collaborative process so much that the album was done within three and a half months.

Perhaps this is why Silence Is Loud maintains an exuberant immediacy while still being sleek and spacious, interspersed with flourishes of metallic beats, lush melody and topped with her sugary but powerful vocal, floating over it all. There is an intimacy to the record, perhaps in part due to Nia writing most of her lyrics while sitting in bed in her flat in Bow (once a bedroom producer, always a bedroom producer). You can hear it on the refrain for lead single ‘Crowded Roomz’, which finds rippling guitar lines cutting taut through the beats as Nia refrains: “I feel so lonely crowded rooms.” The song is an examination of life on tour, constantly surrounded by people, but not necessarily those she can be herself around; more than that, the track is exemplary in the category of sad bangers.

Silence Is Loud often finds itself in that push and pull between melancholy and euphoria. There’s a celebration of her unconditional love for her younger brother (the title track), a rumination of an evening with an Irish boy she met by Temple Bar (‘Cards On The Table), or a letter to herself on the light and airy ‘Unfinished Business’, even coming to terms with a lover having a past they haven’t quite processed yet (“nobody comes with a clean slate”). The latter was recorded the week after a music festival, and accordingly captures Nia’s vocal in its not quite healed, husky state.

Nia’s work is always a snapshot of where she’s at when she’s making it. This might not be the debut album you were expecting, but that’s what makes Silence Is Loud so special. Nia Archives has learned the rules of her sound, and is unafraid to break them, pushing jungle and herself into new, unchartered territories that, in turn, go some way to map the history of the greats of British dance music. More than that, it plants her firmly in that lineage.

If 2022’s The Children Of Scorpio was the debut album that turned people onto the world of Project Gemini aka Paul Osborne, Colours & Light is the body of work that will be buried deep into their hearts. It is a majestic album, bringing together the worlds of folk rock, psych soundtracks and hazy cinematic funk.

A growing confidence and ease emanate from the writing and production of this sophomore LP, bolstered by the reception to his standout debut. “It’s a more layered and diverse record” Paul mentions, “with a more outward-looking, global sound, born out of the records I was listening to and the musicians I was lucky enough to collaborate with”. It feels relaxed yet self-assured, with a kaleidoscope of sounds that twist together in a mesmerising fashion.

The theme of the album developed naturally through the lyrics Paul began writing. A creative process both plagued and fed by insomnia, nourished by relationships, entwined in emotions, nights out, nights in and the after-effects on the human condition. Relatable themes yet seen through the prism of a soundscape that takes in many a different culture and scene. From acid folk to psych-funk, Francophile elements to Anatolian and Eastern inspirations, all interlocking and rotating as one.

Drawing inspiration from those he admires, Colours & Light radiates with collaborations. The title track, which tips its hat to a live 1973 TV version of Pentangle’s ‘Wedding Dress’, features the folk rock, guitar brilliance of Jack Sharp from Wolf People/Large Plants.

Elsewhere, two tracks are blessed by the sultry, smokey French vocals of Gloria’s Wendy Martinez, ‘Extra Nuit’ and ‘Entre chien et loup’. The former echoes Paul's love of classic French psych-pop from the late ’60s and early ’70s and artists such as Laurance Vanay, Calcium, Leonie, and Serge Gainsbourg. Martinez's sublime vocal work nestles perfectly within Paul's psych-folk-funk productions, as her Gloria partner, Alexis Morel (aka Kid Victrola) sprinkles a dose of entrancing guitar line magic on proceedings.

The list of collaborations extends further with Raz and Markey Funk, drummer Tony Coote and percussionist Paul Elliott all featuring. Regular collaborator and underground icon Barrie Cadogan (Little Barrie) returns along with Bert Page from The Cromagnon Band, who between them provide a hit of whacked-out, fuzzed-up country guitar and Moog madness respectively on ‘Lost In The Woods (Bacchanal)’.

Rounding off the record Paul’s daughter, Olivia Osborne, supplies the keyboard intro on the penultimate track ‘Twilight’. Dorian Conway from The Soundcarriers (whose bandmate Paul Isherwood returns on mixing duties) then layers echoing heavy flute parts to magically capture the psychedelic sunrise images brought to mind.

Balancing light and shade on this record, there is beauty and tension all wrapped up in Paul’s vivid and visceral, storytelling gift.

If 2022’s The Children Of Scorpio was the debut album that turned people onto the world of Project Gemini aka Paul Osborne, Colours & Light is the body of work that will be buried deep into their hearts. It is a majestic album, bringing together the worlds of folk rock, psych soundtracks and hazy cinematic funk.

A growing confidence and ease emanate from the writing and production of this sophomore LP, bolstered by the reception to his standout debut. “It’s a more layered and diverse record” Paul mentions, “with a more outward-looking, global sound, born out of the records I was listening to and the musicians I was lucky enough to collaborate with”. It feels relaxed yet self-assured, with a kaleidoscope of sounds that twist together in a mesmerising fashion.

The theme of the album developed naturally through the lyrics Paul began writing. A creative process both plagued and fed by insomnia, nourished by relationships, entwined in emotions, nights out, nights in and the after-effects on the human condition. Relatable themes yet seen through the prism of a soundscape that takes in many a different culture and scene. From acid folk to psych-funk, Francophile elements to Anatolian and Eastern inspirations, all interlocking and rotating as one.

Drawing inspiration from those he admires, Colours & Light radiates with collaborations. The title track, which tips its hat to a live 1973 TV version of Pentangle’s ‘Wedding Dress’, features the folk rock, guitar brilliance of Jack Sharp from Wolf People/Large Plants.

Elsewhere, two tracks are blessed by the sultry, smokey French vocals of Gloria’s Wendy Martinez, ‘Extra Nuit’ and ‘Entre chien et loup’. The former echoes Paul's love of classic French psych-pop from the late ’60s and early ’70s and artists such as Laurance Vanay, Calcium, Leonie, and Serge Gainsbourg. Martinez's sublime vocal work nestles perfectly within Paul's psych-folk-funk productions, as her Gloria partner, Alexis Morel (aka Kid Victrola) sprinkles a dose of entrancing guitar line magic on proceedings.

The list of collaborations extends further with Raz and Markey Funk, drummer Tony Coote and percussionist Paul Elliott all featuring. Regular collaborator and underground icon Barrie Cadogan (Little Barrie) returns along with Bert Page from The Cromagnon Band, who between them provide a hit of whacked-out, fuzzed-up country guitar and Moog madness respectively on ‘Lost In The Woods (Bacchanal)’.

Rounding off the record Paul’s daughter, Olivia Osborne, supplies the keyboard intro on the penultimate track ‘Twilight’. Dorian Conway from The Soundcarriers (whose bandmate Paul Isherwood returns on mixing duties) then layers echoing heavy flute parts to magically capture the psychedelic sunrise images brought to mind.

Balancing light and shade on this record, there is beauty and tension all wrapped up in Paul’s vivid and visceral, storytelling gift.

Saint Abdullah & Eomac is a long distance, ongoing collaboration between New York based Iranian-Canadian brothers Mohammad and Mehdi Mehrabani (Saint Abdullah) and Ian McDonnell a.k.a. Eomac, based in Wicklow in Ireland. They tested the waters with their first album on Nicolas Jaar's Other People label last year, but 'Chasing Stateless' is their fullest expression so far.

The creative mindset behind the album starts with bravery and eschews escapism. Says Saint Abdullah's Mohammad, "As a collective, we exist to test the revolutionary possibilities within sound and sonic storytelling. As a means to finding a vision of the future and for building cultural dialogue today. Our belief is that the expressiveness of this vision should be pushed to its utmost limits to reveal anew. I always felt that the intensity of the middle eastern soul needs to be revealed more potently. Ian and the Irish have it too. I suspect most historically oppressed cultures do."

The music on 'Chasing Stateless' avoids easy middle eastern tropes — "I think what we're proposing here is that you don't need to water down our culture, you don't need to take only the bits that fit your idea of who we are, what we are. You ought to take it in its entirety."

Musically, the album approaches established genres and re-orientates them towards middle eastern rhythm and melody with an iron soul. Songs are rough and intense. Rusty polyrhythms, daf drums wrapped in a thick coating of distortion or punchy kicks with micro-edited samples of middle eastern life spiralling across them. Mournful melodies are squeezed out until the music teeters on the edge of rhythmic collapse. 'Chasing Stateless' is rough and energetic but also tender and reflective too. It's a human sound, utilising technology but not about technology. Sample heavy with expressions of anger, sadness and hope present and deeply felt.

The album's title speaks to a loss of collective societal imagination; of 'chasing status'. As Moh says "This generation, man, we're really good at putting up walls, despite all our openness. But where does this all lead to? What exactly are we chasing? This is where I especially love the name 'Chasing Stateless,' because if all this continues, we indeed will end up stateless, society-less, community-less, neighbor-less. Just a bunch of same-sies, living in an imaginary bubble, where we all look / think / say / CHASE the same things."

Four years after they went all the way to Antarctica, Flat Worms are back in gen pop with the rest of us - but, as intoned on the album opener "Sigalert," "back again like I never was." Is this a nod to the way time passes over our sorely vexed synapses? Or are we to believe that there"s hope to be found in this broken world? Kick back with Witness Marks and see what other traces Flat Worms have left us in the dust. The album title alone leaves a foreboding impression. But look closer - "witness marks" aren"t something out of a forensic analysis - they"re actually practical; scratches placed in old clocks designed to aid continued maintenance further in time. Sure, there"s big questions and more on the board; primarily if we"re at all distinct from the absurdity coming down around us, or just another character in the mirror? Flat Worms are looking inward this time, outlining personal space in relation to themselves and others - sometimes even people they barely know. Among the slabs of slategrey outrage, the flowers of compassion are blooming, and the simmering power of their trio grows exponentially. Working once again with Ty Segall, Flat Worms continue to find new answers by digging into themselves and playing their kind of rock: hard and flat, bass and drums thrusting stalwartly forward with conviction, guitar twisting and spinning in outrage, deadpan vocals decrying a dire set of circumstances. The democracy of working together, so often messy and frustrating, was found to be a powerful release for Justin, Tim and Will. Acting as one, Flat Worms navigated challenging times by coming together, finding release in the clockwork repetitions of practice and the shared creative space they occupied together against the encroaching world. In the short century of their existence, Flat Worms have agitated against the status quo with a disquieting lyric bent, to emphasize the psychosis of the times. These are positions taken within songs, sung out to individuals in the world. As evidenced by the lyrics, "But I know I can always see you at the show Even though it"s only temporary and it"s time to go." . . .Witness Marks surveys an evolving sense of community. Flat Worms are dedicated to persevering and using the power of their collective. Come witness!

Four years after they went all the way to Antarctica, Flat Worms are back in gen pop with the rest of us - but, as intoned on the album opener "Sigalert," "back again like I never was." Is this a nod to the way time passes over our sorely vexed synapses? Or are we to believe that there"s hope to be found in this broken world? Kick back with Witness Marks and see what other traces Flat Worms have left us in the dust. The album title alone leaves a foreboding impression. But look closer - "witness marks" aren"t something out of a forensic analysis - they"re actually practical; scratches placed in old clocks designed to aid continued maintenance further in time. Sure, there"s big questions and more on the board; primarily if we"re at all distinct from the absurdity coming down around us, or just another character in the mirror? Flat Worms are looking inward this time, outlining personal space in relation to themselves and others - sometimes even people they barely know. Among the slabs of slategrey outrage, the flowers of compassion are blooming, and the simmering power of their trio grows exponentially. Working once again with Ty Segall, Flat Worms continue to find new answers by digging into themselves and playing their kind of rock: hard and flat, bass and drums thrusting stalwartly forward with conviction, guitar twisting and spinning in outrage, deadpan vocals decrying a dire set of circumstances. The democracy of working together, so often messy and frustrating, was found to be a powerful release for Justin, Tim and Will. Acting as one, Flat Worms navigated challenging times by coming together, finding release in the clockwork repetitions of practice and the shared creative space they occupied together against the encroaching world. In the short century of their existence, Flat Worms have agitated against the status quo with a disquieting lyric bent, to emphasize the psychosis of the times. These are positions taken within songs, sung out to individuals in the world. As evidenced by the lyrics, "But I know I can always see you at the show Even though it"s only temporary and it"s time to go." . . .Witness Marks surveys an evolving sense of community. Flat Worms are dedicated to persevering and using the power of their collective. Come witness!

Music From Memory is delighted to be turning 50 with a special release: MFM050 - V/A - Virtual Dreams: Ambient Explorations In The House & Techno Age, 1993-1997 (3xLP/2xCD). The first in a series of compilations, alongside more in depth artist-focused releases, Virtual Dreams will delve into music produced during the 1990’s that redefined the boundaries of ‘Ambient’. This was music that explored the possibilities of Ambient music within a new setting, created often by House & Techno music producers for a world beyond dance floors but made very much with the pre and post-clubbing listener in mind.

When House and Techno exploded out of America in the mid 1980s a whole generation was redefined not only musically but also culturally and chemically speaking. Peaking, quite literally, with a second ‘Summer of Love’ in 1988, millions of young people across the world would experience the life-changing ups of a brave new world but with it of course came the downs; enter the concept of a ‘Chill-out’ room. Whilst early Chill-out rooms lacked a specific sound and were often soundtracked by music such as reggae and soul, slowly young Techno and House producers themselves would become increasingly interested in developing a futuristic ‘Ambient’ soundtrack to a world beyond the thud of the main room.

‘Ambient’ in this new age now though had sharper teeth than in Brian Eno's key text for ‘Music for Airports’, instead here the sounds were the mode of transport rather than the backdrop. While the melodies were pretty, the soundscape steered away from the pastoral, dreaming of outer-space and technology as opening up exciting new dimensions. Much like in the first Summer Of Love; the musicians were again exploring psychedelic, mind-altering and transcendental possibilities of music. And also much as in the first Summer Of Love, a psychedelic visual language would accompany the music. Though now the tracks could be accompanied by music videos, utilising early CGI techniques, they would look almost entirely to the future: envisioning technology, nature and humanity intertwined in a new Utopian future. Virtual Dreams of a better world.

From Ambient and early Chill-out classics, to lesser known one-off projects, as well as Ambient deviations by some of House and Techno’s leading producers, Volume One of Virtual Dreams features tracks by Bedouin Ascent, LA Synthesis, LFO, Marc Hollander, Mark Pritchard & Kirsty Hawkshaw, Richard H. Kirk and more.

To celebrate our 50th release the first 1000 copies include a holographic 'Virtual Dreams' sticker plus a special insert poster with artwork by Victoria Pacheco and design by Steele Bonus.

Gatefold double LP with insert

We recorded this album almost 15 years ago. So much has happened since then, but we feel very connected to these songs and they still mean a lot to us. The intense atmosphere, the eerie sense of loss and melancholy that this record conveys fits perfectly into the world of today. We live in urban wastelands and are surrounded by more and more isolated people who are increasingly losing touch with everything. It is hard to find some hope in these days dominated by stories of war, ecocide and solastalgia, yet many people tell us that they have found a glimmer of hope, a small portion of positivity within these songs, which are dark and bleak, but also offer some relief, some light in the darkness. That is why we decided that this record, which means so much to so many, deserves a proper remaster that on the one hand preserves the spirit of the original tracks, but on the other hand is accompanied by two re-recorded songs that in a way show the changes we have gone through as human beings and as musicians.


The future may look bleak, but all is not lost yet.
This record was and is still dedicated to those who feel.

If you decide to look up the strict definition of outsider in any dictionary, you'll find that the term is understood as "a person who is not involved with a particular group of people or organization or who does not live in a particular place".

Perhaps this is the most accurate description of Santiago Merino. For a long decade and from his native Medellín, this DJ and producer has always tried to keep his sonic spectrum open. An interdisciplinary artist capable of freely navigating through a myriad of genres is rarely encountered, and that may be the reason why Santiago enjoys a non-negotiable respect in the different scenes that make up the music circuit of his city. On this occasion, Back Door Records is pleased to serve as host to receive one of the most anticipated facets within the range of music produced by this Colombian artist.

The Outsider marks the debut of a new project signed by Merino, a new hunch in which house takes the helm of an EP entitled 4 Club Use. Composed of five tracks, 4 Club Use seems to show us the true essence behind a genre that has almost been trivialized over the years. In this case, El Outsider decided to take the basic ingredients of tech house to produce a recipe much richer in flavors, textures and melodies. "Fire People", for example, leaves the window open for the airs of Detroit techno to come in and cool off any sunny afternoon. "Outsider" and "The Heat", on the other hand, are seasoned by the purest amen breaks, as if it were a blessing intended solely for the dance floor.

But the real deal across 4 Club Use is definitely El Outsider's own edit of Merino's track "Those Days". Raw and forceful kicks, meticulously sampled vocals and pads that seem to wrap them magically, make this bomb one of the candidate tracks to take the absolute podium of 2023.

Begging the Moon is a collection focused upon an early-to-mid 20th century style of Thai popular song, commonly named Phleng Thai sakon (meaning "song which is both Thai and universal"). With recordings taken from the end of WWII until the start of the 1960s, many of these tracks may also be referred to as Luk krung (meaning "child of the city") a more urbanised style of popular song that is in contrast to the Thai country music known as Luk thung ("child of the field").

Following the Thai cultural revolution of the 1930s and the following reign of west-leaning premier Plaek Phibunsongkhram, Thai culture began to adopt more and more western influences - with Thai traditional and classical music starting to incorporate western notation and particularly Jazz-orientated themes. Thai folk melodies were also adapted to create "ramwong" - a merging of popular western dance music styles such as the tango or rumba, spear-headed at the time by the pioneering Suntaraporn band.

In the years following the end of WWII, the Phleng Thai sakon began to gradually develop sub-genres such as phleng talad (market songs) or phleng chiwit (life songs) focused on rural topics, and sung with rural accents. A little while later this would lead to a formal demarcation in the music - with the polished and western ballad-orientated music known as Luk krung, and the more traditional/country style now dubbed Luk thung. The gap between the two would then widen, both musically and culturally, right up to the present day.

The recordings compiled here can broadly be categorised as being in the former Luk krung style, though some tracks may touch on rural subjects and motifs. However that is not to say they are overpowered by western musical influence - many of these tracks display potent aspects of traditional Thai music within their beguiling and romantic arrangements.

Thanks to Peter Doolan/Monrakplengthai.