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Nothing Under Heaven is the third full-length album from Scottish ambient and drone multi-instrumentalist Yulyseus.

It follows 2022’s In the Dark Palaces of Both Our Hearts, an introspective and immersive work shaped by travel, displacement, and unfamiliar surroundings. Where that release explored darker and more inward-looking terrain, Nothing Under Heaven opens outward into broader, more expansive soundscapes. Drawing on years spent moving between Glasgow, Berlin, Mexico City and Valencia, Niall Gahagan’s compositions here feel patient and quietly luminous, built from layered electronics, bowed strings and subtle field recordings.

Rather than seeking dramatic gestures, the album unfolds slowly, allowing atmosphere and emotion to emerge over time. Working within a crowded and ever-evolving ambient landscape, Yulyseus continues to focus on texture, weight and gradual movement.

Across eight carefully shaped pieces, Nothing Under Heaven explores how sound can hold both stillness and momentum, inviting attentive listening rather than functioning as simple background music. The opening track, Veillands, sets the tone with a quiet intensity that gently draws the listener inward. From there, the album develops as a continuous, immersive experience, rich in detail and emotional nuance. Nothing Under Heaven reflects an artist still in motion, responding to change, uncertainty and new surroundings with humility and care. It stands as a thoughtful and deeply considered addition to Yulyseus’s growing body of work which is rooted in patience, deep listening, and a continuing search for meaning through sound.

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.

Named after the tendency to impose familiar likenesses, such as faces, on random - usually inanimate - objects, Pareidolia is Jake Muir's way of interpreting the consonances between so-called “ambient” music and extreme heavy metal. Extracting the headiest, most atmospheric sections from hundreds of death metal and black metal tracks, Muir plays the role of both DJ and electroacoustic composer, concocting a lysergic elixir of fractal distortions and prolonged, decelerated riffs that slowly evaporates into iridescent vapor. If there's any trace of the original sources left, Muir makes sure that residue is subtly bewildering, like clouds in the sky that form imposing, larger than life images, or trampled bracken that falls into the shape of “trve kvlt” insignia.

The idea for the album materialized when Muir was working on 2022's Talisman, his collaborative album with multi-instrumentalist Evan Caminiti. Processing guitar for the first time, Muir began to unpack his long relationship with rock music and its Escher-like maze of sub-genres, from the tech metal he obsessed over as a teenager to Loop and Main's drone-y, textured variants. Scraping the internet for unconventional contemporary metal albums, he stumbled across music that seemed to hover between different realms, merging its frenetic, noisy sections with psychedelic interludes that harmonize with classic industrial and avant-garde music, material like :zoviet*france:, Nocturnal Emissions and Z'EV.

Several years after the release of ‘Metamorphosis’ (with Sid Hille), Multicast Dynamics (Samuel van Dijk) reemerges on Astral Industries with ‘Circles’ - an enchanting two-part work venturing into deep unconscious realms. Sonic landscapes unfold in a sequence of hidden spaces and intimate revelations, featuring detailed sound design and rich thematic content.

Circle One initiates the process, opening gently with glassy drones and the patter of distant voices. A faint light shimmers through swirling pools of liquid memories and melting forms. The atmosphere builds, and everything is engulfed in the act of transfiguration. 

Passing through the threshold, Circle Two traverses further into cavernous territories. Boundless drifting soon becomes a gravitational pull toward something deeper. Submitted to the powerful undercurrent, incoming primordial pulsations signal a quest that reaches its fated culmination. 

Perhaps the revelation of something long-lost, entering the Circle eludes to that which on the surface remains hidden, yet its rediscovery inevitable.

Irish drone-doom-folk act One Leg One Eye, the project of founding Lankum member Ian Lynch and veteran noise monger George Brennan, announce their new album, CRONE, out on 1 May on AD 93.

Today the group share the first track on the album, ‘Many are my Names Besides’, on which they are joined by the elemental force that is legendary actor, performer, writer and director Olwen Fouéré (Operating Theatre) contributing vocals.

Olwen Fouéré comments:

“When Ian and George first approached me to work with them, they were already creating the Crone album as a sonic invocation of the ‘sovereignty goddess’, who personifies the land and the legitimacy to rule it, in her darkest and most terrifying form. As we spoke, the triple goddess figure of the Morrigan entered my mind, reinforced by a marked presence of crows every time we met. The Morrigan is essentially a war goddess, frequently appearing as a crow in a battlefield, a death prophet, a guardian of sovereignty, and a very powerful figure in Irish Mythology.

So I invoked her energy as a starting point, using text extracts that Ian sent me from the Ulster Cycle and other sources. The voice recording was done in one day, improvising the source material while the already composed music occupied my psyche through headphones.

Listening back, at this time in our world, I can only wonder at how much blood and war the Crone/ Crow of sovereignty is preparing to unleash now. Watch out.”

CRONE is the second album from Lynch and Brennan, following on from 2022’s slowburn slab of ambient grit, …And Take The Black Worm With Me. Bewildering, psychedelic and ultimately transcendental, the four tracks of One Leg One Eye’s CRONE shapeshift and morph endlessly in a coarse miasma. Traditional song structures and vocal melody are eschewed, instead the trio directly channel energies from the rich seams of mythological significance submerged below the Irish psyche. The anger, rage and beauty of the sovereignty goddess burn a consistent and deliberate line through the album in the form of obscure incantations and dire pronouncements, the gnarled sinews that bind it all together.

Just as the subject matter of the tracks delve deeper into Irish myth and the remote past, the temporal reality of the album reaches back into the bands prehistory, with the majority of it the material being recorded by Lynch and Brennan in 2021 before One Leg One Eye was conceived of as an entity with Brennan working on the CRONE project while Lynch worked on …And Take The Black Worm With Me.

When they were there they saw a lone woman coming to the door of the Hostel, after sunset, and seeking to be let in. As long as a weaver’s beam was each of her two shins, and they were as dark as the back of a stag-beetle. A greyish, wooly mantle she wore. Her lower hair used to reach as far as her knee. Her lips were on one side of her head.

She came and put one of her shoulders against the door-post of the house, casting the evil eye on the king and the youths who surrounded him in the Hostel. He himself addressed her from within.

"Well, O woman," says Conaire, "if thou art a wizard, what seest thou for us?"

"Truly I see for thee," she answers, "that neither fell nor flesh of thine shall escape from the place into which thou hast come, save what birds will bear away in their claws."

"It was not an evil omen we foreboded, O woman," saith he: "it is not thou that always augurs for us. What is thy name, O woman?"

"Calib," she answers.

"That is not much of a name," says Conaire.

"Lo, many are my names besides."

"Which be they?" asks Conaire.

"Easy to say," quoth she. "Samon, Sinand, Seisclend, Sodb, Caill, Coll, Díchóem, Dichiúil, Díthím, Díchuimne, Dichruidne, Dairne, Dáríne, Déruaine, Egem, Agam, Ethamne, Gním, Cluiche, Cethardam, Níth, Némain, Nóennen, Badb, Blosc, Bloár, Huae, óe Aife la Sruth, Mache, Médé, Mod."

On one foot, and holding up one hand, and breathing one breath she sang all that to them from the door of the house.

A sprawling, meditative journey into inner and outer space, the new double album from Ivan The Tolerable sees Oli Heffernan retreat fully into the solo realm - crafting an expansive sonic world that feels both intimate and cosmic in scope. Recorded entirely alone and released via Riot Season, this latest work drifts away from structured forms and toward something more fluid, exploratory, and transcendent.
Drawing on the devotional atmospheres of early ambient pioneers and the hypnotic pulse of kosmische music, the album unfolds as a series of slowly shifting soundscapes—analog synths breathing in long, patient waves, tape loops dissolving into shimmering drones, and melodies that seem to emerge from nowhere before gently receding again. There are echoes of ritual, of vast landscapes, of time stretching and folding in on itself.
Across its two discs, Heffernan embraces a deeply immersive approach—less concerned with destination than with the act of drifting itself. It’s music that invites stillness and surrender, equally suited to deep listening or quiet disconnection from the noise of the everyday.
Unbound by genre yet rooted in a rich lineage of experimental sound, this is Ivan The Tolerable at his most introspective and transportive - a double album that doesn’t just ask for your attention, but your presence.

Ital Tek's new album 'Mind Abandon' takes a different direction from his recent run of releases, embracing a more human touch in contrast to the dense, world-building drone of his previous albums and film work. This time, he set out to compose away from the computer as much as possible _ working more instinctively and allowing himself to get lost in the music. Alan found the most natural starting point was his own voice, processing vocals into shifting pads and textures. His guitar sits at the centre of much of the record, joined by live, hand-played percussion and effects, often captured in quick, spontaneous performances. The result is an album of spacious, contrasting dynamics, with textures pressing against each other and rhythmic elements fighting to surface from glutinous, layered sound. "It feels like a very introspective record for me," Alan says. "Losing my sense of identity/self as part of the process - the increasing effort to calm my mind and embrace humanity/imperfection in the music. This path made sense as a jumping off point for a lot of the music to be vocal or guitar experiments - singing in ideas and then processing to become less identifiable." The album feels carved and three-dimensional, weaving industrial and shoegaze influences with the darker edges of post-rock. Subtly embedded in its architecture are traces of dubstep dynamics _ a sound that remains part of Alan's DNA. Opening track "The Ice Is Thin" is driven almost entirely by live guitar and keyboard, awash in reverb. On "A Hidden Path," everything apart from the drums stems from processed vocals and guitar, with a fleeting appearance from his daughter's toy ukulele. It unfolds like the beginning of a journey _ vast and cinematic _ nodding to the widescreen tension of Ennio Morricone before building into a towering wall of noise. "Killswitch" disorients with pounding kick drums crafted from twanging acoustic guitar, pushing through layers of static-charged chords. "Undertow" spirals outward on looping guitar figures set against a pulsing Rhodes. "Misted," built around a rare four-to-the-floor beat, uses guitar as a driving rhythmic device, opening with a bassline that wouldn't feel out of place on a The Cure record. "Imagined Landscape" introduces icy keyboard textures that foreshadow the dark closer, "The Pull," where an arpeggiated bassline reminiscent of DAF underpins unnerving, internalised sound design that feels as though it's scratching from within. Mind Abandon closes on a heavy, stalking note _ fresh sounds drawn from the body and the heart.

In the world of Smote, going further out means going inward. Less a metaphysical journey into inner space, more a physical journey into the ground itself, converging with its roots and vibrations. What's more, a journey right to the heart of its principal architect's daily experience. Smote's fifth release for Rocket Recordings, and their deepest, most fully realised to date. Forged from repetition and mantric intensity and possessed of formidable psychic fortitude, this album prove that the only retro-chic Smote indulge in is liable to go back several centuries. The megalithic monomania of last year's A Grand Stream set a formidable precedent, and Smote's live shows in its wake have gradually built a reputation as visionary seers building audial monuments by cranked amplification and atmospheric intensity alike. Yet these five gnostic serenades offer portals and paradigms anew. Continuing Smote's exploratory mission into heaviness in all its forms. Songs From The Free House sees Foggin exploring a variety of new avenues. Therefore, whilst listeners might align the pantheistic forays into drone-based abandon with previous travellers like Earth and Om, the influence of folk songs and legends, as well as electronic music make their presence felt. "I've been listening to heavy electronic stuff like Puce Mary and The Body" adds Daniel, "Stereotypically guitars are often seen as the instrument for "heavy" music, but the sheer force that's available from electronics is something that will crumble most guitar centred music." Elsewhere a more melodic vocal based structure is writ large amidst these rites and revelations, particularly on The Linton Wyrm, which proceeds from devotional chant to a potent conclusion, also inspired by Foggin's everyday surroundings. Wrought from the earth, transposed to the ether, and now shared with the world at large, this album marks a transcendental journey where Smote render ancient and modern indivisible. Just as traditional music is passed down through generations, Songs from the Free House is where the primal collides with the eternal.

There is a particular kind of strangeness that arrives on long drives across Europe. Flat light, service stations and fields stretching endlessly past the window. It might look mundane at first glance, but becomes faintly surreal when the tiredness of touring blurs the edges of everything.

That feeling became the quiet engine behind Driving Through Belgium, the debut solo album from Anton Pearson, best known as one of the guitarists in respected post-punk outfit Squid. The title grew from a track that felt like the record’s centrepiece, which itself came from the recurring image of extensive periods on the road across the continent. It is a record shaped in the margins of touring, and finessed in the in-between hours.

Across six pieces, Pearson leans into atmosphere, texture and space. It is ambient in spirit, adjacent to contemporary classical in feeling, but composed less with notes in mind than with sound itself. The compositions rarely began with harmony or melody, with Pearson instead responding to his environment and sounds in real time, placing trust in his instinct.

Although initial inspiration came from the road, the album was recorded in a studio he shares in Brighton, and marks his first fully solo project made in that setting. It gave him access to not only new tools and techniques, but a hitherto un-experienced freedom. Much of the process began experimentally, feeding instruments into unfamiliar chains, pitching loops into unexpected registers and playing with previously unused synthesizers simply to see what they might reveal. Many of the sounds were created out of pure curiosity, wanting to understand a piece of equipment or technology, and then following wherever it led.

The album was built with this experimentation at its core, as Pearson would layer then extract, processing stacks of sound until things blur and confuse. Guitars dissolve into drones, a Pianet Clavinet dances against muddier textures whilst a Korg PS-1000 occasionally cuts through with its glittering top end. On ‘Driving Past the Muscular Cows in Belgium’, a flat, still drone is pushed through valve amps until it growls and tightens with tension, before receding again. Even the trumpet, which Pearson freely admits he is not technically proficient at, is embraced in its naivety, its squeaks left intact rather than corrected. The twin ‘Tintinnabulation’ pieces frame the record with looping, pitched bell like tones, accidental discoveries that became structural anchors. Meanwhile, ‘Teeth to Cut the Grass’ deliberately introduces abrasion, some of the harshest textures on the record, a refusal to become passive background music.


That embrace of imperfection is central. In contrast to the hyper-analytical precision of his band, Pearson was keen to honour first takes. If something felt good, it would stay. The end result is an album that favours looseness, instinct and the energy of creation itself. If Squid thrives on propulsion and tension, Anton Pearson finds his energy in suspension on Driving Through Belgium. It is curious rather than declarative, creating a space where experimentation feels playful again.

Filmmaking and music-making share a common element of worldbuilding. Whole cloth, environments are raised in which a perspective can be placed; the viewer, the listener, is taken on a ride into the unknown for a time. Movie, the newest album by DMV-based duo Lifted, is like a film shot with microphones rather than cameras, using the pacing, spatialization, and semiotics of cinematic sound design to lead us through a surreal soundworld that draws as much from Foley artistry as dub, jazz, and electronic music. Musical elements and field recordings shift in and out of focus, collaged in spontaneous improvisation sessions on CDJs by the core duo of Andrew Field-Pickering (Max D, Dolo Percussion, Beautiful Swimmers) and Matt Papich (Co La, Ecstatic Sunshine). We may not see where we are, but our ears give us all the information we need.

We open on a pedal steel, played by More Eaze, but it’s been warped and slowed, gradually pitching upward until it's met by drums and electronics. Imagine the THX logo emerging onscreen. Movie is bookended by two related themes, “The Ice Chewers (Opening Credits), ” and “Midnight Snack (End Credits), ” giving the spatial experiments at the heart of the record form and focus. If there’s a broader narrative to latch onto, it’s in the transition moments, the juxtaposition of various field recordings that indicate movement of characters through space and life happening at its own pace. Tracks are defined by other thematic elements: a wandering piano in "Repossessed, " the drone of Duncan Moore’s bagpipe on “Melts Very Nasty, ” the delicate dance of Dustin Wong’s guitar over Jeremy Hyman’s drums on “Midnight Snack. ” Even with such an expansive ensemble cast, the focus remains squarely on the flow from one scene to the next.

Robert Altman’s use of sonic perspective shifting, as well as Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s intricate construction of environmental ambience and aural representations of the unknown, were both inspirational for Lifted’s focus on sound as a way to establish set and setting in film. We hear Altman especially in the way dialogue emerges and recedes: as Papich puts in a sandwich order, as Field-Pickering browses the grocery store. These techniques have been a part of the duo’s arsenal in Lifted and their own projects for years, but here, without the mandate to make something overtly musical, they are foregrounded and placed in crisp focus. Here is another way to listen to the world, to understand how time, place, and personality are communicated through sound as Lifted closes the gap between artforms. What you can’t see only drives the imagination to more brilliantly invent.

Irgendwann um das Jahr 2024 tauchte Vorhex Angel scheinbar aus dem Nichts auf: keine Social-Media-Präsenz, keine Identitäten, lediglich ihr Name tauchte hier und da auf einem Flyer in Nashville oder New Orleans auf. Wer neugierig genug war, um ihre Live-Show zu besuchen, konnte mit einer Vielzahl unerwarteter Dinge konfrontiert werden, die die Sinne anregten: aufwendige Bühnenbilder, Stroboskoplichter (oder alternativ völlige Dunkelheit), brennende Gegenstände, vor dem Auftritt eingenommene Rauschmittel. Die Musik bei diesen Auftritten passte zu dem Mysterium. Sie war laut, unberechenbar und verdammt viszeral. Wenn die beiden Live-Veröffentlichungen der Gruppe und ihr Debüt ,Heavenly" tatsächlich viszeral sind (Raven Sings the Blues nannte sie ja ,Erben des Strudels von High Rise"), dann ist der Nachfolger ,Drain" sicherlich ihr intellektuelles Werk. Seine sieben Tracks führen den Hörer vom Morgen bis zur Nacht, ein weitläufiges experimentelles Doppelalbum mit überlebensgroßen Gitarrensoli, spacigen Drone-Exkursionen und Momenten von kraftvoller Intensität durch das gesamte Werk. Zum ersten Mal sehen wir, wie Vorhex Angel ihren hämmernden Klangangriff gegen stimmungsvolle und dramatischere Gefilde eintauschen. Die Band - bestehend aus den Brüdern Jake und Jamin Orrall von JEFF the Brotherhood und Kunal Prakash von Silver Synthetic - erweitert die Grenzen des Vorhex-Angel-Konzepts, lädt neue Musiker in ihren Kreis ein, geht mehr Risiken ein und erntet dafür umso mehr. ,Drain ist keine Musik, die man im Hintergrund beim Kochen laufen lässt", warnt Kunal, bevor er zwinkert: ,Vielleicht ist sie etwas für besonders abenteuerlustige Köche." Vorhex Angel verspricht, dass noch mehr kommen wird. Mehr Jams, mehr unerwartete Wendungen - allein in diesem Jahr können wir mindestens eine Tour und mindestens zwei (!) weitere Alben erwarten. Vorerst gibt es ,Drain" zu feiern, sich damit auseinanderzusetzen, damit der Hörer wie die Musik selbst ein- und ausatmen kann, mit reichlich Raum für gedankliche Kontemplation. SPA Sometime around 2024, Vorhex Angel emerged seemingly out of the ether: no social media presence, no identities, simply their name popping up in Nashville or New Orleans on a flyer here and there. Those with enough curiosity to attend their live show could be met with any number of unexpected things to spike the senses: elaborate stage dressing, strobe lights (alternatively, complete darkness), burning things, pre-performance ingestibles. The music at those functions matched the mystery. They were loud, unhinged, and visceral as all hell. If the group's two live releases and debut Heavenly are indeed visceral (Raven Sings the Blues did name them "heirs to the maelstrom of High Rise"), then followup Drain is surely their cerebral offering. Its seven tracks guide the listener from morning to night, a sprawling experimental double album with larger than life guitar solos, spaced-out drone excursions, and moments of potent intensity throughout. For the first time, we see Vorhex Angel trade their pummeling sonic onslaught for moody and more dramatic pastures. The band-revealed to be brothers Jake and Jamin Orrall of JEFF the Brotherhood and Silver Synthetic's Kunal Prakash-push the parameters of the Vorhex Angel concept outward, inviting new players into their circle, adding more risk and generating more reward. "Drain is not in-the-background cooking-type music," warns Kunal, before winking: "Maybe it is for particularly adventurous chefs." Vorhex Angel promises there will be more. More jams, more left turns-just this year, we can expect at least one tour and at least two (!) more albums. For now, there is Drain to celebrate, to sit and chew on, to allow the listener to breathe out and in like the music does, with ample room for cerebral contemplation.

The latest in Field Records' run of essential vinyl pressings revisits Stephen Hitchell's 2009 masterpiece under his Variant alias, The Setting Sun. As part of Echospace and also celebrated for his productions as Intrusion and Soultek, Hitchell is considered a leading light in dub techno, with the versatility in his sound to range from rhythmic, physical pulses to purely tonal, abyssal drone. His work as Variant, which debuted with The Setting Sun, capitalises on this scope to deliver a compelling ambient-with-teeth set richly deserving of a proper vinyl pressing.

The Setting Sun first emerged on Echospace as a download-only release. Hitchell was at pains to map out the tools that went into the sound on the album — field recordings of storms in Berlin, Germany and train rides in Narita, Japan, outboard synths and samplers. Crucially, he declared no computers were used, and it shows. When The Setting Sun was recorded, in-the-box production was largely dominating electronic music and the technology had yet to replicate the warmth and character of analogue equipment. Hitchell's looming chords come baked with harmonic overtones, surface noise becomes another essential layer and fragments of distortion add to the narrative of these glacial, monumental pieces.

Hitchell threads his dub techno tendencies in subtle ways, from the kick pattering underneath 'As Time Stood Still' to the quintessential metallic delay ripples that define 'A Silent Storm'. 'Someplace Else' has a defined, albeit delicate, rhythm section guiding its lighter shades of pads and chords. However, drums are never a dominant aspect of the music, simply another layer in an intentionally coagulated whole. At times, flickering tones hint at space where percussion once stood, since muted to leave the wet signal setting a new course for the sound, somewhere far beyond drum duties. The hushed ceremony of tracks like 'Adrift' are the perfect scenario in which to absorb these microfibres of detail, where the genius of Hitchell can truly be savoured.

In line with the limitations of record pressing and Hitchell's proclivity for long-form tracks, 'The Setting Sun' is reserved for the digital edition of this reissue. It's a logical move, as the sound palette widens to encompass tangible, organic instrumentation evolving over the best part of half an hour. The presence of piano keys feels stark in the Variant sound world, but Hitchell ably folds these coded elements into his process bathed in the same curious luminosity that lingers around all his work. Evolving at a painstaking pace, the plaintive humanity in the cascading keys and plucked guitar strings renders one of the most personal expressions in Hitchell's considerable canon — a unique piece that holds its own space comfortably, while also adding to the overall weight of The Setting Sun as a profound benchmark in a stellar discography.

To honour the enduring appeal of a great musical rework, Hell Yeah is launching The Art of Remix. This essential new series collects the best remixes from a range of label favourites. First up is Japanese downtempo master Calm with exclusive, never-before-on-vinyl versions of originals by Cantoma, Aura Safari, DJ Sofa’s Dream Baby Dream, Seahawks, Gallo, Yuichiro Kato and more. The release comes with rich liner notes by the authoritative Dr Rob from Ban Ban Ton Ton, and a second volume from Is It Balearic's Coyote will follow soon.

Remixes have always been at the heart of Hell Yeah's output as a way of reworking classic sounds into different contexts, allowing artists to explore outside their usual remit and also to introduce new talents. Clam has long perfected the art with his famously laidback takes on all sorts of Balearic, house, dub and acid under the Mellow Mellow Acid subtitle. He's remixed many a Japanese legend but also a wealth of artists from across the world, and eight of those reimagined gems balance euphoria with solitude on this first volume.

First, his take on Cantoma's 'Way To The Sun' infuses drones and chimes with bubbly acid. 'Sur Mon Balconett' shimmers with Spanish guitar and sultry sax, ghosts of yesterday still shuffling. 'Banana Trance' jolts with breakbeats while taking a Balearic leap into hedonism. Mininn’s 'Vertigo' drifts dubwise, from monastic chants to operatic bursts. Maho’s 'Bakuhatsu' growls dark and sleazy as acid and riffs collide, 'Abysso' floats with strings and sirens in symphony, 'Blue Surround' lulls before exploding with jazz fire and Kato’s 'Kiss of Life' closes with a cosmic, romantic serenade. Calm's The Art of Remix sets a high standard for a series which will soon turn to Coyote and Scandi-house great Bjorn Torske.

FELT enter 2026 with a newly established sub label for reissues, retrospectives and oddball adjacent non-FELT material under the anagram catch-all LEFT. First on the agenda is a vinyl issue of a modern classical tape by Danish post-hardcore/late 2000s rock guitarist Johan Surrballe Wieth, founding member of the band Iceage (Escho/Dais/Mexican Summer/Matador).

Initially released on a limited cassette edition and plucked from the vast catalogue of the Copenhagen label Posh Isolation, the solo project Health & Safety can be read as composers meditation on anxiety, depression, insomnia and all the damned things they entangle. Wieth moves across the spectrum with dour, deliberate keys, mangled drone fx, barely-there violin scrapes, erratic chimes and whistles and with a knowing pace that feels akin to a guiding hand. We’re unsure if the form of each piece is meant to directly correlate to the drug so referenced but the quiet fever dream atmosphere of the 25 minutes also blurs each piece into a whole.

This quote from Wieth certainly rings true for the highly introspective nature of Health & Safety - “You should be very careful listening to too much music when you're writing an album. It has a tendency to become a little too explicit”

For the second instalment of the Curio Cabinet gourmet-dub series, we bring you two fat slices of steppers’ delight, straight from the southern city of Toulouse.

Both are made by Stefan Dubs under the guiding light of his live project, Sòn Du Maquis. This project has deep roots in the free rave, micro-festival, and dub & sound system culture of his country. It’s also the name of his own label, home to his dub-infested productions; ranging from slo-mo jungle to droney steppers and blown-out trip-hop on a slightly medieval tip.

Staying true to classic sound system tradition, each side pairs the original cut with its own version.

First there is Tolosan Dub, a trancey bass meditation colossus with deep synth work moving around in the trees. Some early nineties UK digidub vibes are surely mashing up the dance here. The version workout slows things down a bit, taking you even deeper into the riddim... strictly warrior style !

On the B-side we've got Bonnefoï Dub, which is pure bass-bin filth with a rootsy harmonica touch and a raw clubby feel. This tune just screams to be played out loud on a proper sound system. The version is certified dance-floor gold, yet there are enough dubbed-out flavours going on for intimate headphone sessions or some mad home skanking.

‘Açid Blüüs Räägs Vol.2’ is the latest evolution of the sound of last year’s Volume 1. The debut album was described by Joe Banks for Shindig! Magazine as; “Shivering slabs of drone blues transcendentalism…a burning junkyard of sheet metal blues… Hot stuff.” Volume 2 builds on the skronk blues guitar, sax and electronic drones of it’s predecessor, to explore cosmic free jazz, concrete exotica and dub, channelling influences of Moondog, Terry Riley, 75 Dollar Bill and Wolf Eyes. Playing like the imagined film soundtracks to a dystopian, re-wilded, post eco crash world in the style of Tarkovsky's ‘Stalker’ and ’Solaris’, Jodorowsky's surreal desert western ‘El Topo’, or the early novels of JG Ballard. This new collection sees the addition of minimal analogue drum machine loops as well as live instrumental contributions from the new players of the ever evolving Invocation band, plus some superstar guest contributors.
Featuring five brand new tracks, including the forthcoming single; ‘Cosmic Fanfare’, has already picked up BBC 6 Music support from Gideon Coe. The new album was mixed by Alex McGowan (aka Captain Future) of Space Eko Studios and features Invocation band regulars Rick Jensen of Apocalypse Jazz Unit, Skronk and Oneirologist on sax and bass clarinet, Will Emms aka Tiki Eerie on melodica, horns and claviola, plus special guest appearances from Duke Garwood on clarinet and Mikey 'Moondog' Chestnut of Snapped Ankles on bass synth. “….Acid fried kosmiche blues meets drone raag transcendentalism”. Jonny Halifax is a primitivist free blues outsider, sonic shaman of the acid fuzzed lap steel guitar, demented blower of the howling harmonica of doom. His new band project now combines avant swamp blues heaviosity with kosmic free jazz experimentalism in a fluid collective of godless raag brut improvisations - sonic visions of an hallucinatory apocalyptic near future. Inspired by Henry Flynt’s avant bluegrass experiments fusing country blues with eastern acoustic musical stylings, Spacemen 3’s contemporary sitar music, and the monolithic drone doom immersion of Sunn 0))), THE JONNY HALIFAX INVOCATION build hypnotic instrumental soundscapes using lap steel and homemade slide guitars, harmonica and alto sax. Underpinned by layers of acoustic and electronic drone instruments and fed through an arsenal of pedalboard electronics that would make Kevin Shields weep, the blues are transmogrified, unhinged, reduced and re-imagined as intoxicating, trance-inducing, feedback-drenched noise paintings. THE JONNY HALIFAX INVOCATION follows Jonny’s junkshop skronk blues one man band Honkeyfinger, and the Julian Cope endorsed gospel fuzz psychedelia of Jonny Halifax & The Howling Truth, whilst not forgetting his ambient drone metal side project; Deathenteredinerror. His musical CV also includes studio contributions to tracks by Andrew Weatherall’s Two Lone Swordsmen, UK metal behemoths Orange Goblin, Heck and Melting Hand.

The legacy of wipE′out′′ has transcended time and cemented itself as a true transgenerational phenomenon. Launched in 1995, it didn’t just revolutionise the gaming industry, it created a bridge between the gaming ecosystem and the raver community. Its futuristic aesthetics and forward-thinking sound left a mark not only on mainstream audiences but also on the most demanding corners of the underground.

Decades later, the game’s impact is still alive. The release in 2023 of The Zero Gravity Soundtrack on Lapsus Records proved once again that wipE′out′′’s accompanying audio will go down in history as much more than just an anti-gravity racing game soundtrack.

This is why we decided to go deeper into the slipstream and build the second volume you’re now holding in your hands. Drawn from the original archives of Tim Wright, aka CoLD SToRAGE, this new collection surfaces unreleased cuts, pieces that couldn’t fit on the first edition, and a suite of self-authored ambient reworks that translate pure velocity into wide-screen atmospherics engineered for the long straights, the drone of airbrakes, the blue hour between checkpoints. It also reconnects the circuit, gathering selections and variants tied to later chapters of the saga — wipE′out′′ HD and wipE′out′′ Pure — plus alternative mixes that, until now, only existed in the Sega Saturn dimension of the franchise.

Finally, the material takes a leap into the future in the hands of four remixers especially chosen for this release: Tim Reaper, SHERELLE, Mantra, and NikNak, who collectively forge links between CoLD SToRAGE’s pioneering musical vision, the sound world of the game, and the contemporary breakbeats and drum & bass vanguard.

Expect the DNA you remember — accelerated breaks, trance-vector synths, jungle influences, sub-bass rumbling neatly beneath the craft’s hull, and at times even echoes of classic hardstyle — now revealed with new angles and air. The previously unheard material carries the same aerodynamic design sense that made these tracks feel faster than the track map itself, while the ambient versions open the field of view with melodies hovering at the lip of overdrive. Without a doubt, here you’ll find a strong sense of nostalgia. But this isn’t just nostalgia; it’s also proof that this sound world continues to evolve when you ease off the throttle.

For the faithful — crate-digging ravers, speed-run obsessives, and design nerds — this is an essential expansion pack: compiling rarities, restoring context, and reframing the emotional core of wipE′out′′ for late nights and early mornings alike. Bridging memory and momentum, club and console, rush and afterglow. Strap in.

Detailed tracklist, with annotations by Tim Wright aka CoLD SToRAGE

· Scratch Pad 1: “This track was composed using incomplete tracks that were developed around the time of the first wipE′out′′. It’s so long because it was used for a marathon-length Psygnosis promotional video.”

· Messij Received: “Messij was a firm favourite with wipE′out′′ fans, so it made sense that there’d be more where that came from — this was one of those re-workings.”

· God’s Gift: “I was always very fond of Erasure’s track Love to Hate You with the canned crowd FX sounds. God’s Gift was a tongue-in-cheek reference to how some musicians think they are just that. This was way before I even played live as CoLD SToRAGE.”

· Tentative: “I wasn’t sure about introducing some wacky beats and distorted sounds into one of the tracks, because it was kinda heading away from the other tracks, hence Tentative — but it turned out OK.”

· Canada 2048: “When wipE′out′′ 2048 was launched I decided to re-make Canada as a kind of tribute, but in a slightly new-tech, laid-back way, using Propellerhead Reason and all software synths.”

· Wiped Out: “Based on a few riffs from a MIDI file unused at the time of the original wipE′out′′ game compositions, this featured on my debut album MELT.”

· Body in Motion (Body Plus Mix): “A more trippy interpretation of Body in Motion that featured on non PlayStation versions of the game e.g. Sega Saturn.”

· Onyx (“Dark Side of the Moon”): “Onyx was my sole contribution to wipE′out′′ Pure on the Sony PSP handheld gaming console. This version was something I developed in a darker style, that eventually erupts into a crescendo.”

· Messij Received (WSTWGBE Mix): “Like I say, Messij was a hit with most wipE′out′′ fans, so when I was asked to compose more music for non-PlayStation versions, I adapted this tune into a parallel-universe version for PC and Sega Saturn. By the way, WSTWGBE refers to Who Said This Was Going To Be Easy?”

· Canada (Drunken Ausländer Mix): “In early 2018 I released a fresh album called Ch'illout′′, a re-working of many of my wipE′out′′ tracks in an ambient, Sunday-morning vibe style — it was a few years’ work, here and there.”

· Tentative (Woffenfum Mix): “Another chilled re-working of one of my wipE′out′′ tracks, the mix named with a nod to a good friend of mine, Carl Woffenden — someone who I've worked with for many years in the games industry.”

· Messij (Bobbing Boat Mix): “A nice cheesy computer blip-blop start belies its deep and upbeat chilled-out melodic finale.”

· Body in Motion (Timeless Techno Mix): “Another classic track given the chilled-out vibe mix, as featured originally on my Ch'illout′′ album. This one’s a really trippy, deep-space take on the original.”

· DOH-T (AM / FM Mix): “The idea with this chilled-out mix was to imagine all the melodic parts of this varied track being broadcast on terrestrial radio, so each theme drifts in and out through the radio static.”

· ’95 Future Echoes: “Originally developed as a companion album for wipE′out′′ HD, this track actually has its roots in a tiny loop of a song that never progressed to anything special back in the mid-’90s when I was composing for the original game.”

· Turbine: “Also from my wipE′out′′ HD album, it leans heavily into the upbeat, uplifting tunes from the original game, but also steals a bit of vibe and energy from The Prodigy, with those distorted flute sounds.”

· Pencil Neck: “This excerpt from my wipE′out′′ HD album features lots of sounds centre-stage and forward from Propellerhead Reason’s Subtractor virtual synth. I learned to love this more than my JD-800!”

· Messij 2005 (New Science Mix): “Yet another take on the track that still raises a smile, this time through a mix of samples from the original and Propellerhead Reason — the ‘new science’ when compared to an Amiga 1200 running Bars and Pipes.”

Following the acclaimed reissue of Sa Discossa earlier this year, Jo Tongo's third solo album Those Flowers returns to the spotlight.

Originally released just a year and a half after Sa Discossa, this 1982 gem came out on the small Context label and, in Tongo's own words, the two records are "like twins." Recorded with many of the same musicians, Those Flowers continues the vibrant fusion of disco-funk and reggae - this time dedicating one side to each, leaning slightly more into his Western influences.

But there's more than groove beneath the surface. Tracks like "People Need Peace" and "We Human Beings" channel his enduring themes of resistance, identity, and freedom. The synthesizer at the beginning of the song mimics the ominous drone of warplanes, and lyrics speak directly to global struggles - reminders that his music is both deeply personal and powerfully political. "I paid for these ideals in my career," Tongo reflects, alluding to the personal costs of his outspoken stance against colonialism and injustice.

Still, Those Flowers carries joy at its heart. Songs like "Ain't No Man Like A Real Friend" celebrate trust and loyalty, while the title track offers a tender ode to love and kindness - "picking flowers from the soul," as Tongo puts it. These songs reveal the inner world of a man who has always viewed music as a mirror of life.

This reissue marks the second installment in the African Edge series from The Outer Edge label. Fully restored and remastered, Those Flowers is now set to bloom again - another vital chapter in the legacy of Jo Tongo.

Pingipung proudly introduces Iko Chérie, the experimental pop project of French multiinstrumentalist Marie Merlet. The 7"" single "Ghosted Ghosters of the Holy G" offers a first glimpse into her forthcoming LP, Soft Centre (Nov 2025) - a hypnotic blend of dub-infused songwriting and blissful noise. On the flipside, French electro-dub visionaries Froid Dub unravel the track into a shadowy, slow-motion version, with a solid sub-bass, flickering delays and half-heard whispers. Trained in classical piano as a child, Marie Merlet shifted to teaching herself the guitar when she discovered the DIY indie punk scene. She then studied jazz singing and electro acoustic composition in Bordeaux before moving to London to play bass in Monade alongside Laetitia Sadier (Stereolab). With her solo project Iko Chérie, she crafts a surreal sound world of woozy incantations, Casio drones, and reverb-drenched guitars, woven with processed spoken-word samples. Beyond Iko Chérie, Marie Merlet tours globally and records with Gina Birch (The Raincoats) and is the guitarist in psychedelic cumbia outfit Malphino. She also hosts a monthly Soho Radio show championing women in music and curates a film & performance series at London"s Cinema Museum.

On his sixth studio release Roulette, the prolific producer, songwriter, pianist and MC Alfa Mist has created his own sci-fi universe - a vast dystopia where themes of revenge, forgiveness and redemption loom large.

Alfa Mist’s albums have always tackled big themes. This time, however, he explores an imagined near-future in which reincarnation is discovered to be a potent tool linking dreams and past lives. But with this discovery comes consequences: ethical, moral and philosophical. “If reincarnation is real, how does that shape society?” he explains. “If reincarnation means accumulation of knowledge, would you share it and enable everyone to understand more about the world? Or do you struggle for power? And do some people want to stop others from remembering who they were?”

Over 15 tracks, Alfa explores these ideas with heady potency. Each song is a spin of the wheel – a different song and character. The musician’s signature is still there – lambent keys, intuitive groove, free-flowing jazz improvisation – but Roulette is imbued with a smoky psychedelia. An immersive listen, this album is designed “to feel” on every level, says Alfa. It also contains some of his most impressive arrangements yet - see the eight-minute title track that effortlessly flips through time signatures – “because life’s like that,” says Mist; it’s not always linear.

Roulette underlines Alfa Mist as one of the most forward-thinking composers in UK music, with poignant, plaintive melodies that lodge deep in your psyche. “I’m exploring different parts of myself,” he says. “But obviously, as I grow, all of those parts change. Music is a constant; it’s my state of mind that I constantly chisel and work on and make sure that’s always growing and staying interested in new things. As long as I do that, it’ll come out in the music.”

On his sixth studio release Roulette, the prolific producer, songwriter, pianist and MC Alfa Mist has created his own sci-fi universe - a vast dystopia where themes of revenge, forgiveness and redemption loom large.

Alfa Mist’s albums have always tackled big themes. This time, however, he explores an imagined near-future in which reincarnation is discovered to be a potent tool linking dreams and past lives. But with this discovery comes consequences: ethical, moral and philosophical. “If reincarnation is real, how does that shape society?” he explains. “If reincarnation means accumulation of knowledge, would you share it and enable everyone to understand more about the world? Or do you struggle for power? And do some people want to stop others from remembering who they were?”

Over 15 tracks, Alfa explores these ideas with heady potency. Each song is a spin of the wheel – a different song and character. The musician’s signature is still there – lambent keys, intuitive groove, free-flowing jazz improvisation – but Roulette is imbued with a smoky psychedelia. An immersive listen, this album is designed “to feel” on every level, says Alfa. It also contains some of his most impressive arrangements yet - see the eight-minute title track that effortlessly flips through time signatures – “because life’s like that,” says Mist; it’s not always linear.

Roulette underlines Alfa Mist as one of the most forward-thinking composers in UK music, with poignant, plaintive melodies that lodge deep in your psyche. “I’m exploring different parts of myself,” he says. “But obviously, as I grow, all of those parts change. Music is a constant; it’s my state of mind that I constantly chisel and work on and make sure that’s always growing and staying interested in new things. As long as I do that, it’ll come out in the music.”

The Rituals series rises again, a fresh strike carved deep into black wax. RITUAL12 summons an international assembly of techno insurgents from the OMEN roster, each delivering their own sonic rite. Across two sides, the intent is absolute: raw, unfiltered power pulled from the shadows and unleashed on the dance floor.
RITUAL12 is not a compilation, it’s a convocation. Forged in analogue heat, drenched in distortion, and aimed directly at the heart of the floor, this record demands full surrender. Step in. There is no turning back.
SIDE A
Swarm Intelligence – Inexorable
Berlin’s Swarm Intelligence ignites the record with precision-tooled percussion and fractured basslines. Polyrhythmic tension winds tighter with every measure, industrial grit locking into a cybernetic march toward total hypnosis.
B.A.R.K – Shikijitsu
A bone-rattling invocation of distorted low-end and ceremonial drums. B.A.R.K drives forward like ancient machinery grinding to life, a Japanese primal energy sharpened to a deadly edge.
Axkan + Duellist – Resilence
Mexico meets Scotland for a brutalist assault: hammering kicks, serrated synth textures, and walls of analogue saturation. No safe passage here, only forward momentum into the heart of chaos.
SIDE B
EAS – Honored One
From Los Angeles, EAS delivers a tense, ritualistic construction where a subterranean EBM bassline pulses through metallic drones. Hypnotic, uneasy, and charged with controlled dissonance.
Ha†elove + Ogmah – Hanged Bodies
A dark ceremonial groove, heavy with ritual percussion and spectral synth chants. The layers rise to a fever pitch, blurring the line between transcendence and collapse.
Crystal Geometry + Axkan – Kratom
France’s Crystal Geometry joins Axkan for a militaristic strike of modular chaos and pummeling drums. EBM infused basslines drive beneath razor-sharp synth fire, rallying the midnight faithful to the front lines.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Melopea, presenting two new pieces highlighting the incredible voice of Amelia Cuni (1958-2024), the great Italian singer, based in Berlin in later life, whose mastery of the classical Indian dhrupad developed in parallel with a commitment to contemporary experimental approaches. After two stunning archival releases documenting traditional dhrupad performances in India in the 1990s (BT079 and BT092), the two side-long pieces here embody the freedom with which Cuni explored new contexts and settings for her singing.

Both make use of a long recording of Cuni singing the pentatonic Raag Bhoop (or Bhopali) made in 2012 by her partner Werner Durand in Berlin. ‘Melopea’ began from Cuni and Durand’s superimposition of this recording with violinist Silvia Tarozzi and cellist Deborah Walker’s performance of Éliane Radigue’s ‘Occam River II’. Inspired by the beauty of this chance encounter (and other experiments with non-synchronous collaboration during the pandemic years), Tarozzi and Walker recorded independently, without hearing Cuni’s voice but ‘having her present in memory’. Tarozzi and Walker’s bowed strings places Cuni’s magisterial performance in a new context, emphasising, as Radigue commented upon hearing the initial layering of her piece with Cuni’s voice, a shared ‘searching toward the partials, overtones, these natural constituents of acoustical sounds in their richness’. Beginning with whispered bowed harmonics, the violin and cello swap the stability of dhrupad’s traditional tanpura drone for a slowly evolving, uneasy web of harmonic interactions recalling some of Harley Gaber’s work, sometimes sitting on dissonances for long periods or allowing changing interference patterns to come to the fore. Primarily focusing on her lower register, Cuni’s performance demonstrates her mastery of microtonal pitch subtleties, elegant sweeping glissandi and meditatively unhurried pacing.

The continuation of the same recording by Cuni forms the foundation of ‘Bhoop-Murchana’, with Anthea Caddy on cello and Werner Durand on soprano saxophone. In contrast to the randomised layering of the first piece, here Durand and Caddy have carefully selected pitches based on the raag Cuni sings, using the ‘Murchana’ form, which uses the constituent notes of the raag as tonics of new raags, retaining the same interval structure. Both players who have developed tones of striking depth and harmonic purity on their instruments, Caddy and Durand’s patient long tones are simultaneously rigorously grounded in the physical properties of sound and possessed of an immaterial, floating quality. Combined with Cuni’s voice and, near the piece’s end, her contributions on hammered and plucked tanpura, the effect borders on miraculous. To surrender to this music is like slipping into an onsen pool, feeling the instantaneous release of every tension. Accompanied by liner notes from Durand, Tarozzi and Walker, Melopea is both a moving tribute to the profound art of Amelia Cuni and, for the uninitiated, a perfect introduction to it.

Avenue 66 opens Series 33 with a Düsseldorf–Lyon connection.
Jonquera first encountered Tolouse Low Trax a decade ago in a small Lyon club. That night, his hypnotic slow-motion set was cut short, yet it left a lasting imprint. The Düsseldorf artist’s mechanical psychedelia, and the influence of the Salon collective have been a constant touchstone for
Jonquera, even inspiring playful “Düsselcore” edits in his Tera Octe days.
After several LPs, Jonquera returns to the EP format with Cause & Utility / Tales of Decay. Built from improvised drum, bass, and vocal recordings, the tracks are reworked through heavy looping and acoustic treatment, a method inspired by his recent live shows. Cause & Utility revolves around the
abstract idea of two dogs as concepts, enriched by the earthy drone of a hurdy-gurdy. Tales of Decay paints a surreal image of a house losing its rooms like a body shedding parts.
The MPC sorcerer Tolouse Low Trax, aka Detlef Weinrich, brings his Düsseldorf circuitry and autobahn funk with two tracks of pure rhythm apparition. Amp is a quintessential Tolouse Low Trax cut, built on concealed rhythmic structures, swampy bass lines, and fragments of radio and voice
samples. The piece extends his exploration of how art can mirror the flow of inner-city traffic; drifting without a clear climax. Solid Rock echoes this idea, first conceived as a variation on Amp where particles repeat themselves. The result is distinct yet conceptually linked, evoking the
density of a crowded neighboring city: beginning in apparent disarray before locking into an abstract, hypnotic funk.
Series 33 begins with the convergence of Jonquera’s looping experiments and Tolouse Low Trax’s mechanical psychedelia, a dialogue between Lyon and Düsseldorf.

Texas drone pioneers Stars of the Lid take stock of a landmark career with this 30th anniversary edition of their debut LP Music For Nitrous Oxide on their own Artificial Pinearch Manufacturing imprint. Long before the brittle-yet-warm racket Adam Wiltzie and Brian McBride kick up became synonymous with the achingly beautiful decay of America they were two audio geeks in Austin with almost no connection to the city’s vibrant, but rock and roll focused music scene. Finding brotherhood in mangled tape collages and engulfing fuzz, Stars of the Lid was born out of their mutual abstraction from what surrounded them. While to its creators, Music For Nitrous Oxide may have simply been a (slight) refinement from the drones Wiltzie and McBride were unleashing on unsuspecting college radio listeners at UT Austin, the rest of the world was slowly catching up to the duo’s noise-addled magic.

Wolfgang Voigt makes a return to Astral Industries, seeing the continuation of his long-running Rückverzauberung (Reverse Enchantment) series. In line with previous volumes, one may expect the unconventional, idiosyncratic sound Voigt is reputed for. ‘Im Tunnel’ however, takes a more concentrated viewpoint - a metaphysical transmutation that brings with it an experience of mind-melting drones and swelling intensity. 

Entering the tunnel is like opening a portal, but as the fabric of time-space begins to collapse on itself, it feels more like a rude awakening. Pulsing undulations rise and fall like the turbines of a spacecraft, marked by dissonant chords and a simmering cloud of complex and ever-shifting textures. Pushing thresholds and expectations, the unearthly nature of the tunnel over time disintegrates any proposed state of completion. 

A treacherous voyage, and possibly bewildering for some, the work is both unrelenting and uncompromising. Should one decide to step into the tunnel, be sure to take all necessary precautions and procedures.

AN ATLAS OF LOSS

Do minerals dream of becoming semiconductors? Do they yearn to carry charges, amplify, switch, and convert energy into emotions comprehensible to humans? And what if, from the darkness of the underground, they had been listening to us sing in caves before the emergence of the first flute? Could they have guided us, through the course of history, to find them, extract them, and create new sounds through sinusoidal waves, to form valves and bend circuits?

If so, minerals would transition from what philosopher Eugene Thacker defines as the ‘planet’—that virginal and unreachable realm for humans that we study through geology, paleontology, and environmental sciences—to the ‘world,’ the space we inhabit, interpret, and synthesise in our daily lives. Sadly, we only remember the world when it erupts violently, through climate catastrophes or when a new virus emerges. Sometimes a tsunami collides with a nuclear plant, or viruses are cultivated as biological weapons in high-security laboratories, provoking a deep biological anxiety, hard to quell, which we all feel beneath our skin.

There exists a third realm, disconnected from both the world and the planet: the ‘earth’, an immense, dense rock floating in space alongside other planets, situated in the cosmological dimension. Relating to the earth is so complex that we only do so through theoretical speculations of a scientific nature or through science fiction, interweaving until one becomes the prophecy of the other, in an infinite, pendular dance. Beyond the darkness of space and Lovecraft’s cosmic horror, the fantasy of human extinction is the most recurrent: to reach a collapse so devastating that we do not survive it, even though the earth does, without us.

In a world where we quantify everything through body sensors, financial algorithms, nanometre-scale robots, and surveillance drones—a world in which everything that can be domesticated and controlled can also be commodified—a superior artificial intelligence would survive the collapse of the species (some speculate it might even cause it) and learn from our mistakes, thanks to our obsessive gathering of data.

Long after our voices fade, minerals will persist in the darkness of screens, in the silicon of chips, and in their pure form, still unexploited underground. Over the millennia, this intelligence might piece together fragments of our reasoning, as if an alien civilization finally connected with one of our spacecrafts loaded with messages cast into the void. It would sort through endless streams of data, unable to grasp the depths of emotion behind what it quantified, recreating simulations of our past, stripped of the nuance that once defined us and conducting experiments in sandboxes.

Some remnants of our existence—faint echoes of forgotten beauty—would be pieced together in an atlas of loss, buried beneath layers of numbers, decayed bots, and corroded hard drives. What will follow? Perhaps bison will once again roam—trotting to the strange pulse of techno, their ancient forms framed by the ruins of our cities.

Buildings will crumble, slowly dissolving under the soft touch of ambient music, and a thousand flowers will bloom with that ancient music created through electrical signals and computation. 7 songs for a future both improbable and inevitable—a final message from a world lost to itself, from planet Earth to planet Earth.

Alfons Pich, 2025

When you’re running a label, a demo occasionally comes across your desk that makes you reconsider everything you thought your label was all about. For Balmat, such was the case with this stunning album from Stephen Vitiello, Brendan Canty, and Hahn Rowe. It sounds like nothing we’ve released so far—and that very otherness opened up a whole new world of possibilities for us.

Fans of ambient, experimental electronic music, and sound art will be familiar with Vitiello, a New York native, long based in Virginia, who has collaborated with a cross-generational list of greats: Taylor Deupree, Steve Roden, Lawrence English, Tetsu Inoue, Nam June Paik, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Pauline Oliveros, and many more. On labels like 12k, Room40, and Sub Rosa, he has explored a wide range of minimalism, microsound, lowercase, ambient, improv, and other styles. But this album is something different. It may begin in ambient-adjacent territory, but it quickly veers off, and it just keeps zigzagging, taking on elements of krautrock, post-punk, dub, and the groove-heavy interplay of groups like Natural Information Society and 75 Dollar Bill.

This stylistic turn is thanks in large part to Vitiello’s choice of collaborators. “We’re coming from three different schools,” Vitiello says: “sound art, art rock, and punk rock.”

Active since the early 1980s, Rowe—a violinist, guitarist, and producer/engineer—has played with, or manned the boards for, a frankly jaw-dropping list of musicians: Herbie Hancock, Gil Scott-Heron, the Last Poets, Roy Ayers, John Zorn, Glenn Branca, Swans, Live Skull, Brian Eno, David Byrne, Anohni, R.E.M., Yoko Ono, and many more. But he might be most closely associated with Hugo Largo, a one-of-a-kind New York quartet—two basses, vocals, and Rowe’s violin—that in the late 1980s helped lay the groundwork for what would eventually become known as post-rock.

Canty, of course, is the legendary drummer of Fugazi, the visionary DC post-hardcore group, as well as Rites of Spring before them, and, currently, the Messthetics, a Dischord-signed instrumental trio with guitarist Anthony Pirog and Fugazi bassist Joe Lally.

Vitiello’s trio first collaborated on First, a 17-minute piece released on the Longform Editions label in 2023. Second picks up where the freeform drift of First left off, channeling the trio’s exploratory energies into more intentionally structured tracks and—in a real first for Balmat—some almost shockingly muscular grooves. “Sometimes my projects are more conceptually driven,” Vitiello says, “but I think this was more musically geared. I just wanted to open up the references and bring in an incredible drummer, bring in some melodies, and I’m sort of the center.” But his collaborators, he stresses, are “vastly creative in making anything I might suggest better.”

Like its predecessor, Second took shape in phases, shifting between improvisation and collage. Vitiello laid down the skeleton of the music at home, sketching out initial ideas on Rhodes keyboard and acoustic and electric guitar; he then fed the parts through samplers and his modular system, recording 10- or 20-minute jams. Once he had edited them into more structured forms, he hit the studio with Canty, who added not just drums but also bass and piano; finally, Vitiello took the results of those sessions to Rowe, who played violin, viola, electric bass, and 12-string acoustic and bowed electric guitar, and assisted in some of the final structuring and mixdown.

A few more surprises along the way: Reanimator’s Don Godwin, the studio engineer where Vitiello recorded with Canty, contributed what he calls “resonant dustpan”; and none other than Animal Collective’s Geologist, who just happened to be in the studio that day, sits in on hurdy gurdy on “Mrphgtrs1,” the album’s gorgeous, stunningly atmospheric drone closer. “I love these chance encounters,” Vitiello says. “Somebody I admire, a group I admire—that was an unexpected gift.”

An unexpected gift is a great way of describing Second as a whole: three veteran musicians venturing outside their usual zones and finding a new collaborative language together. The results can’t be neatly slotted into any given genre; they belong not to any given category, but to the spirit of conversation itself.

An immersive long-form composition in two parts that seamlessly blends a collage of spoken word, field recordings and drones with elements of dub, jazz, fourth world and ambient music.

Son Of Chi is the latest project of Rotterdam-based multi-instrumentalist, composer and producer Hanyo van Oosterom. Van Oosterom’s prolific career spans multiple decades and genres; among countless projects he has been involved in, he is known for founding the Dutch ambient collective CHI in the early eighties, and in recent years for his prolific collaboration with CHI co-founder Jacobus Derwort as Chi Factory. Following Derwort’s passing in 2019, van Oosterom decided to close the CHI circle with the birth of Son Of Chi.

Sonically, the world of ‘We Carry Eden’ is fully immersive; it ripples with depth and shimmers in detail. Motifs, ideas and fragments, arise and disappear like passing thoughts, drawing the listener deeper and deeper inwards. For those familiar with Oosterom’s work as Chi Factory, the depth and meditative nature of the work will come as no surprise; however it is Oosterom’s skill with grooves that shines equally bright here; his infectiously dubby basslines and percussion rise up from the ether, grounding the listener to the earth. ‘We Carry Eden’ at times invokes the fourth world landscapes of Jon Hassell, (with whom Oosterom has collaborated) but as a whole, it remains the unique work of an artist fully in tune with their vision.

Thematically, storytelling traditions lie at the heart of ‘We Carry Eden’, with van Oosterom’s long-time collaborator Omar Ka playing a central role. Ka, who hails from the West African nomadic Fulani tradition of storytelling, responds to the collage of field recordings and sounds collected by Oosterom. His voice is woven throughout ‘We Carry Eden’, creating a narrative that binds the multiple sound sources of the album together.

As with much of van Oosterom’s musical output, inspiration is drawn from the Greek Island of Patmos and the wisdom and prophecies of the Native American Hopi Tribe. Since his work with CHI in the early eighties, van Oosterom has often incorporated quotes from Hopi Elders into his music. Gods, spirits, animals and humans, all existing in one unchangeable relationship tied to nature; ‘We Carry Eden’ is rooted in this philosophy, serving as a peaceful message of beauty, harmony and respect for the wisdom of the Elders and ancient traditions.

Sleeve art and design by Michael Willis.

“Less than a month after one of the most violent fire events in the history of the continent, new shoots had burst through the scorched hardpan, nourished by the still-vital roots of those flayed and blackened trees.” John Vaillant, Fire Weather.

Loscil (aka Scott Morgan) returns to kranky with Lake Fire, a nine-track offering of ash-laden sonics that mine the tension within the cycle of destruction and rejuvenation.

Lake Fire is the result of a disjointed creative process. Originally conceived as a suite for electronics and ensemble, most of the original compositions were deserted, save for Ash Clouds, featuring James Meager on double bass. The remaining tracks were reshaped and remixed, built anew out of the remnants of the abandoned work. The result is a phoenix, an album burnt to the ground only to be reassembled out of its cinders. Fragments of the original lurk beneath a densely overpainted canvas of sound.

Infused into the resulting rearrangements are impressions from a road trip into the mountains marking a personal half-century milestone, surrounded by the ominous proximity of wildfires and dense smoke; celebrating life while the world burns. The album’s title comes from the striking irony that forest fires are often named after regional lakes - perhaps subconsciously referencing ancient lore. The cover photos were taken from this same trip, while sitting in a rowboat staring into the grey abyss of an opposing mountainside outside of Revelstoke, BC, obfuscated by smoke from a nearby lake fire.

Press quotes for previous solo release “Clara”:

"The sound sculptor Scott Morgan continues to astound.” Pop Matters

"A beautifully nuanced work, Clara is both revealing and mysterious -- and loscil fans wouldn't expect anything less.” Allmusic

press quotes for previous collaboration release with Lawrence English “Colours of Air”:

"As you might expect from the steady hands at the tiller, this is a cortex-hugging drone record of beauty and depth.” The Quietus

"One of the thrills of listening to this record is how its initially predictable veneer fades on subsequent listens to reveal layers of mischief underneath.” Resident Advisor

The London trio of Molinaro, Moreiya, and Wendy Lavone aka Rest Symbol's self-titled debut brings together exotica, orchestral ambience, psychedelic dub and smoky soul for Brian Foote's new label FO. It's a record that reinvents downtempo music by transforming crumbled breaks into gooey caramel with string phrases aged under tape noise and Moreiya's voice sunk deep into endless reverb. There is a surrealist style to this album that brings new life to the embers of trip-hop as crackling samples and orchestral drones make for something decidedly futuristic.

'Cupar Grain Silo' is Sam Annand's first release on the Blackford Hill label. Its nine tracks blur the lines between ambient electronica and sonic history, as synthesised melodies and rhythms reverberate through the extreme acoustics of the disused Cupar Grain Silo in Scotland. Built in 1964 as a sugar store, the silo towers 60 metres above the surrounding Fife countryside. Its industrial life was short: in 1971 it was closed, and barring a short period as a grain store, remained empty for decades.

In 2014, Sam Annand was given access to the silo as part of the Resono project, set up to study a series of highly reverberant locations across Scotland. The ambitious industrial architecture of the Cupar Grain Silo has given the space a reverberation time of 36.5 seconds. This measurement describes the time a sound takes to decay or 'fade away' in a closed space. To put this in perspective, the Cupar Grain Silo reverb time is around three times longer than that in cathedrals like York Minster and St Paul's.

"The acoustics are immediately noticeable when climbing the ladder into the main chamber", Sam says. "The sound of your voice begins to circle around and above you, inviting you to shout, clap and bang objects to excite the space into revealing its intimidating architectural voice."

Sam began to experiment with musical compositions which responded to the unique acoustics of the silo space. He used impulse responses – a short, sharp sound like a gunshot – to record these acoustics, allowing him to experiment with the silo's reverb in his production. Sam's compositions were performed using a modular synth system, a Roland Juno-6 polyphonic synthesizer and a bowed ride cymbal.

"Chords can be constructed in time by hanging successive single notes in the air," Sam describes, "The flutter echoes from the immediate cylindrical walls can be used to create bursts of scattering spatial imagery and harmonic blooms, following short percussive moments."

Originally recorded on 21st May 2016, 'Cupar Grain Silo' is now released on 12" vinyl with an accompanying booklet of imagery and essays. The compositions are at once true to the unique architectural acoustics of the silo whilst also being playful and experimental with the creative possibilities it offered. Arpeggiated melodies ebb and fall across extended call-and-response shapes formed by the silo's reverb; modular drum patterns crackle like dying machinery; whilst bowed drones waver and wash over.

"We all love reverberation," reflects Prof. Peter Stollery, Professor of Composition and Electroacoustic Music at the University of Aberdeen, on the project. "As kids, we play in it – yelling in forests and caves, surreptitiously dropping objects in huge churches – mouths wide open at the lingering smears of sound which come back to us."

In 'Cupar Grain Silo', Sam Annand has harnessed the extraordinary acoustics of the disused silo to tap into this sense of joy and amazement that reverberation can bring.

Queens Of The Circulating Library stands alongside Time Machines and Nurse With Wound's Soliloquy For Lilith as a post-industrial pinnacle of sensory-warping long-form drone.

Crafted by the distilled duo of Thighpaulsandra and John Balance, the 49-minute piece unfurls in swirling, cyclical waves, tidal as much as textural, channeling the spirit of levitational minimalism pioneered by La Monte Young. Touted as the first part in "a continually mutating series of circulating musickal compositions" upon its initial release in 2000, the album remains a compelling case study in Coil's exceptional capacity for mutation and extremes. The theatrical introductory monologue delivered by Thighpaulsandra's mother - a career opera singer, in her 80's at the time of recording - sets the stage for a grandiose ascension. Written by Balance, the text is declamatory but dreamlike, refracted through megaphone echo: "Return the book of knowledge / Return the marble index / File under "Paradox" / The forest is a college, each tree a university." As her voice fades, the lulling synthetic infinity deepens, congealing into transient crests of volume and haze, like slow-motion surf misting in moonlight. Thighpaulsandra describes their aesthetic intention as a "bliss out," static but shape-shifting, an amniotic drift towards an eternal vanishing point. A supreme sonic embodiment of the slogan on the sleeve of Time Machines, two years prior: "Persistence is all."

Eaux proudly announces a new collaborative mini-album from label boss Rrose and Polygonia. Containing six tracks and over 40 minutes of music housed in a fully printed sleeve with artwork by Jon-Paul Villegas, the record focuses squarely on the dancefloor while infusing it with the kinds of psychoactive drones, intricate polyrhythms, and relentless modulations that have come to identify both of their approaches to sound. Featured heavily are their shared interests in sonic shapes that resemble natural forms and conjure tactile feelings, in this case related to themes of skin-like surfaces and circulatory systems experienced simultaneously on a micro and macro level. While several of the tracks hover in a flexible tempo range between 125 and 130 bpm, "Stretcher" reaches up to 142, and the closing track "Vena Cava" trades the kick drums for spectrally processed percussion and endlessly diverging high-frequency pulses.

The story behind the release starts in 2022, when Rrose reached out to Polygonia after noticing that her tracks were appearing in their sets more frequently than any other artist. Never before had Rrose proposed a collaboration with someone they hadn't met before, but there was such an obvious connection in their approach to sound that it felt necessary. As it turns out, Polygonia had only become interested in techno after hearing Rrose perform at a festival in 2018. It all made sense, and they began sharing sketches and unfinished ideas with each other, trading them back and forth until they reached completion. Without any announcement of their collaboration, the two artists have since been asked to share the stage together several times. It seems there are other people out there sensing a connection...


Bios:

RROSE

Rrose is an alias of the multi-disciplinary artist Seth Horvitz, born and raised in California, and currently based in London. Active since 2011, the Rrose project explores the intersection of hypnotic techno, experimental composition and psychoacoustic phenomena with a meticulous touch. The first major breakthrough was 2012's "Waterfall" for Sandwell District which followed "Motormouth Variations," a collaborative project with composer, improviser, and activist Bob Ostertag. After the shuttering of Sandwell District, Rrose established Eaux, a home for further solo productions and collaborations. Building on his studies in electronic composition and history at Mills College, Rrose's electronic pieces blur the lines between thrillingly claustrophobic club tracks and destabilizing sound art explorations. In 2015, she released an extended version of James Tenney's postcard composition "Having Never Written a Note For Percussion" for solo gong, and in 2018 collaborated with Charlemagne Palestine on "The Goldennn Meeenn + Sheeenn" for two grand pianos. These works overlapped with the development of Rrose's singular techno: EPs like "Vanishing Pools," "The Ends of Weather" and "Arc Unknown" as well as 2019's debut LP "Hymn to Moisture" and last year's follow up "Please Touch." Rrose is also active as a touring DJ and live performer, equally comfortable commanding sweaty warehouse dancefloors and seated audiences in historic concert halls. Appearances include Unsound, Atonal, Semibreve, Dekmantel, Mutek, Sonic Acts, Nuit Sonore, Mostra, Parallel, Theatre Graslin, Nextones, and Berghain.
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POLYGONIA

Polygonia represents a multidisciplinary music and art project conceived by Lindsey Wang from Munich, Germany.

She draws inspiration from her many years of practicing various acoustic instruments and her keen interest for other cultural forms of expression, which she translates into the digital language of electronic music and art.

Her productions' soundscape exudes a mystical, organic quality, featuring intricate and compelling rhythms. Polygonia's sound palette ranges from energetic, groovy Deep Techno, Downtempo, Grey Area to textural and/or harmonic Ambient. Besides, she is not afraid to include influences from the genres House, Drum and Bass, Electro etc.. In addition inspiration from nature play a major role in many of her productions. Exemplary for her style are for instance her 'Otro Mundo' EP (2023) on Bambounou's Bambel Imprint, her 'Bloom' EP (2022) on the American record label Sure Thing, the release 'Deformed Human Nature' (2021) on her own label IO, as well as the album 'Abbilder einer vergessenen Welt' (2021) on the Korean label Huinali.

Her DJ and live sets too reflect her passion for different genres. Depending on the time of day and setting, Polygonia shows a different musical side. What unites all her dance music sets is the hypnotizing effect that invites to completely lose oneself in the world of sounds for a longer period of time. Several voices from the audience also confirm that the musician always tells a complex story within her mixes, allowing for very clear highs and lows. In the same set there can be very harmonic passages, which provide emotional moments and on the other hand extremely texture-heavy dark tracks, which establish a connection with the subconscious and put the listener in a kind of trance.

Polygonia has already visited numerous of prestigious venues. She is now a regular at Tresor or Berghain in Berlin and additionally started her residency in 2023 at Munich-based BLITZ club.

The third collaborative album by ASC & Sam KDC is here, entitled Surfacing. A six track excursion through sombre mood setting drones, relaxing hypnotic melodies, with a heavy slice of melancholy setting the scene throughout.
Pressed on clear/white heavyweight 180gram vinyl, with a high quality picture sleeve, designed by ASC.

2024 Repress

The gang of four have a new waxed weapon in their arsenal and as expected, it bites. Three slices of complex futuristic beats with no mercy.

As in previous sound exercises, they have collided in the studio, each one with his preferred tools, recording bites, mutating audios, twisting frequencies, and this is the result:

"MG009" is a mechanical tool constructed over a concrete drum architecture, surrounded with bleeps, distorted drones and cutting hi hats. All the elements come and go wisely creating an obsessive atmosphere.

"SQMD3" follows on similar parameters, fast, distorted, enforced with the essential layers of sound required to make massive damage on a proper sound system.

"SNT0073" closes B side as an extension of the message proposed on the previous cuts: a few elements fighting in a frequency range quest in order to destroy any sign of easyness and vulgarity.

Only for the brave.

Following up last year’s Acrobatic Thoughts album, Panoram delves even deeper into his own musical universe with Keep Looking Where The Light Comes From. We find the producer in confident form, exploring the fuzzy fringes of beauty and chaos. The result is an album that sounds even more like himself and yet surprising at each turn.


Opening track Feathers sounds like only Panoram can, buzzy arpeggiated distortion takes flight somewhere in the direction of a distant multiverse where Animal Collective and Boards of Canada soundtracked Koyaanisqatsi. But the psychedelic drift is all Panoram’s own, conjuring a stark sense of the uncanny with the repeated phrases. The digital guitar and vocal loops of I Can Only Repeat Your Love are practically on the brink of collapsing in on themselves, to the point where the structure begins to shift like a collapsing monument. Flat Stones nods towards ASMR, as flute and woodwind tones caress the ears and a whispered voice teases out an altered state.


It’s this dreamlike mood that pervades the whole album, a maximal effect that’s wrung from minimalist compositions. The Wide House picks up the baton from Laurie Anderson to trip gently through different states of awareness, while the piano patterns of Blank Sheep float through the synth ambience like ideas entering an empty dream. There Is A Hole Here is another mutant loop that unravels as it proceeds - the rhythms turn into a pulse, and despite what the lyrics say, it does indeed mess around with your brain.


Panoram balances dance tropes, classical composition, ambient drones and a washed out, fuzzy twist on avant garde pop, and manages to transform it all into a uniform whole that fits all those puzzle pieces together. Yet such is the assuredness of Panoram’s production that it sounds effortless. At this point, the music is more like a midwife, manifesting your future self‘s enlightened consciousness with surreal effect.

Kompakt unveils the third volume of Jörg Burger’s Velvet Desert Music compilation series, dedicated to music that hits the sweet spot between the cinematic, the (pop) ambient, and the psychedelic. With Velvet Desert Music Vol. 3, Burger and his friends wander afar, taking trips away from, or adjacent to, the dancefloor that’s acted so long as the crucible for the Kompakt aesthetic. Like its predecessors, it’s a gorgeous, lambent collection of late-night mood music.

Because it’s such a broad church, Velvet Desert Music admits all kinds of new experiences, as well, with Burger looking for music that "leads out of the desert into the velvet universe". Indeed, of all the volumes in the series, this third instalment feels closest to an album made by a true collective. The roster has changed, with new contributors Flug 8 and Seb Martel, both with his trio Las Ondas Marteles and with Chocolate Genius and Zsela as La Finca, joining regulars The Novotones, Mount Obsidian, The Golden Bug, Paulor and Sascha Funke.

Burger himself reappears, too, alongside Fritz Ackermann (of The Novotones), Max Würden and Thore Pfeiffer, in The Velvet Circle. Their contributions are pure lush life electronica: “Our Tribe” hitches a ride with a low-slung groove, flickering psychedelic reels of acoustic guitar traipsing across moody bass and taffeta layers of drone; their opening remix of Flug 8’s “Puerto Rico” gently introduces the album with softly tangling electronic tones, while guitars, drenched in reverb, pirouette in the background. A Mount Obsidian remix of “Sacrosanct” by Burger’s The Black Frame -project is a swirling treat for the ears.

La Finca’s electronics and voice miniature, “What Clouds Say”, is a masterclass in poetic restraint; Martel’s “Dark Mambo”, remixed by Burger, is one of the collection’s big surprises, for it indeed does what the title says, a drifting, surrealist take on the mambo form, full of pensive chords, rich with unrequited longing, a breathy saxophone whispering under the song’s sly rhythmic carriage.

Elsewhere, The Novotones chime in with a slyly propulsive, Krautrock-esque charmer, “Liberty Bell”, and the guitar-led tone-drift of “Valley of Oblivion”; Paulor’s “The Last Coke in the Desert” is a chiming, lilting dreamscape; Mount Obsidian are joined by vocalist Charlotte Jestaedt for two modern takes on early-hours art song, “Marole” and “Fade”; Sascha Funke’s “Mathias Rust” is a lavish dancefloor dream, vocal samples drifting through the song as it slowly envelops the listener in its opulent radiance.

This is just a taste of the rich pleasures of Velvet Desert Music Vol. 3, a triumph of a compilation that takes the psychedelic visions of its predecessors and looks for the desert within, a dusty kiss, a road-movie hallucination flickering on the listener’s eyelids, a cinematic projection from deep inside the mind.

A lavish four chapter chronicle that imagines an alternative evolution of mankind through sound, VIS (Latin for energy or force) is the result of a lengthy process of self-discovery, collaboration and research for Italian-German composer David August. The son of a classical pianist, August slipped from the academic music world into an early career as a dance music producer and DJ before he felt his artistic outlook shifting considerably. He established the adventurous 99CHANTS label in 2018, and has since used it as an output for his most progressive notions, collaborating most recently with jazz-noise vocalist Cansu Tanrikulu and Carnatic singer Sushma Soma on last year"s acclaimed "Imaginary Landscapes" compilation. VIS then is a chance for August to reconcile his personal narrative, leveling it with concepts that touch on history, transformation and metaphysics. He wrote the album"s 13 pieces to play like a linear storyline, tracking the development of culture from its illusory beginnings in Plato"s cave into the wider world and observing its progression and adaptation.

August represents these themes with levitational orchestral drones, choirs and bells that slowly bend to long-forgotten ancestral rhythms, inevitably colliding with the digitized chaos of the information age. Motion guides everything, whether it"s shadows on a wall projected by dancing flames, or dramatic, overlayed rhythms that vibrate the air and excite the feet. VIS is a dynamic attempt to show the movement of time on a macro scale, looking backwards in order to move forwards. It charts mankind"s journey from its cosmic beginnings through the awe-inspiring world of flora and fauna, grounding the experience in rhythmic expression and dance before we"re returned to the stars in transcended form. Crucially, it"s a hopeful articulation of ideas and concepts that continue to echo throughout history, inviting us to imagine greater and cherish the teeming landscape that surrounds us.

CLIKNO is thrilled to announce the upcoming release of the highly-anticipated Peripherie Remix EP of four tracks from rand's critically acclaimed album "Peripherie" set to drop on May 26th, 2023.
Featuring remixes by Steevio, Deadbeat, Dr.Nojoke, and Andrea Cichecki, some of the most exciting names in the underground electronic music scene, this limited EP promises to take you on a journey through a spectrum of sounds and emotions.

Steevio kicks off the EP with a groundbreaking remix of "Lucid", marking the first time a remix by this highly regarded artist will appear on vinyl.
With his signature style of intricate modular grooves and atmospheric pads, Steevio's remix takes the original to new heights that we are sure to captivate and move you.

Next up is Deadbeat, a veteran of the dub techno scene, with a stunning drone remix of "San Gimignano".
His signature use of space and bass is on full display, as he crafts a cavernous and immersive soundscape that is sure to take the listener on a journey through the depths of sound, leaving you lost in its mesmerizing drone.

Dr.Nojoke, known for his experimental and genre-defying productions, transforms “Hoola” into a deep and introspective chill-out tune featuring lush pads and intricate percussion.
This remix is perfect for some legendary afterhour sessions.

Rounding out the EP is Andrea Cichecki's ethereal ambient remix of "Siegfried 2.0".
This remix captures the essence of the original track while adding an otherworldly dimension with its haunting and immersive sound design.

With this remix EP, CLIKNO once again showcases its commitment to pushing the boundaries of electronic music.
All four remixes on this EP are a testament to the exceptional talent of these artists, and we're excited to share their unique visions with the world.

“Preparing Singularity” is the debut album by Berlin-based EBM act Transhuman Rebirth, currently a one-man side project of renowned German synth-punk artist Ben Bloodygrave.

Already instantly recognizable on the European synth/wave scene and touring circuit with his high octane aggressive minimal synth, Bloodygrave started this new project over the past few years focusing more on classic, first-wave EBM, moulding the nine tracks on “Preparing Singularity” into a sound that’s recognizable to fans of the starting foundations of the genre. While retaining a sound that’s unique and solely its own, elements of minimal wave and synth-punk are fused in these propulsive tracks, with nods to old idols such as Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Front 242 and Absolute Body Control.

Transhuman Rebirth is subjectually futuristic to dystopian, interspersed with political statements. The lyrics focus on topics that are current and modern, including science, technology, surveillance and artificial intelligence — all delivered through Bloodygrave’s well-known vocal style with a sound that is much rougher and with compositions and sound designs that are more complex than his main Ben Bloodygrave persona.

AI-32 signals the arrival of ‘The Fifth World Recordings’, by Son of Chi (Hanyo van Oosterom) and long-term collaborator Arthur Flink. A tribute to the late Jon Hassell, who passed away in 2021, the album connects a deep running thread that goes back to the source of Chi project. Carrying on from where Hassell left off, the album takes inspiration and references from his Fourth World music concept and the ancient Hopi tradition of Native America. Illuminating the subliminal space of the arising Fifth World, Son of Chi pays respects to an inimitable force in contemporary music. 

Hassell’s ‘Dream Theory in Malaya’ forms a touchstone to Hanyo van Oosterom’s musical journey, which soundtracked long, deep and reflective periods living in the cave of the Kallikatsou (Patmos, Greece) back in the early 80s. This period resulted in Hanyo’s track as Chi - ‘Hopi’ - in 1984. Hanyo met Hassell shortly after in 1987 at his “The Surgeon in the Nightsky” concert in Rotterdam - it wasn’t until twenty years later that Hanyo invited him for two magic nights of “Instant Composing Sessions” with the Numoonlab Orchestra (with a host of other artists) at the LantarenVenster, the very same stage where Hassell had performed in 1987 and also where Chi did their first live performance. 

Dreamful, mysterious, prophetic, the Fifth World Recordings features the quiet yet elaborate sound of Chi awash with rich instrumentation, field recordings, and old stories by the firelight. Sketches were created with drones, loops, and soundscapes, with which Arthur Flink (also a member of the Numoonlab Orchestra) jammed on trumpet. Channelling Hassell’s idiosyncratic style, floating melodies and lyrical improvisations are parsed into the mix, where Hanyo has processed and manipulated the recordings, also referencing Hassell’s exotic scales and unique harmonics.

Additionally, the wah Bamboo flute at the closing piece is an homage to the works of Chi co-founder Jacobus Derwort (1952-2019). For this piece Hanyo used his first bamboo flute he made at the cave of the Kallikatsou in 1984. Arthur Flink answers in counterpoint with the wah trumpet, almost like the intuitive communication of the nightbirds..

"We Are Power", Galaxian's first album in over a decade, cuts a new path. On this Foul-Up and Shipwrec joint release, Kastner presents a rumination on the confrontation and power clash between humankind, nature, the spiritual and mechanistic industrial growth societies. What is authentic power? What is granted power? What is innate natural power? How is power accessed, wielded, utilised, felt? On this album the blistering beats and razor-edged rhythms that characterise the Glaswegian's productions have been softened, the menace melted, the angst soothed (well almost.) Across eleven tracks, distinct audio vistas are surveyed. The human form takes centre stage from the opening monologue of "Out of Balance" with the entire record searching for balance between humankind, nature, orthodox culture & the machine. At times the machine wins. "We Are Power" is a corruption of voice, samples chopped, sliced and fed into controllers and sequencers to produce a dense decibel wall. That wall grows ever higher in the terrifying drone of "Anatomy of a Modern Lie." At other points, a perfect symmetry between artist and tool is found. The racing interchanges and pulses of "Universal Truths" give rise to dawning reprises and warmth. For those after an electro fix, Galaxian abides. The speed snares of "Messianic Delusions" or dripping drums of "Fields of Meaning" are soaked in the history of machine music, yet they are grander in their delivery and more nuanced in their composition. Fresh territories are explored, the playful solar dreams of "Without Form" or the cinematic grandeur of "In Reverse". This album is unmistakable Galaxian, it marks a high-point and brings with it a culmination of intense expression.

Since he started producing music, Berlin-based American sound artist Jake Muir has been obsessed with sampling. His 2018 album "Lady's Mantle" was based on manipulated chunks of vintage Californian surf rock, and its follow-up, 2020's midnight symphony "The Hum Of Your Veiled Voice" was sourced from a wide variety of old records, and inspired by the work of experimental turntablists like Marina Rosenfeld, Janek Schaefer and Philip Jeck.

On "Mana", Muir looks back to a misunderstood musical movement. Around 1995, a group of New York producers and DJs - including DJ Olive, DJ Spooky and Spectre - pioneered a genre-dissolving sound by unifying hip-hop techniques with ideas pulled from dub, jungle, ambient music and industrial noise. Badged "illbient", it was a short-lived genre that felt like a high-minded psychedelic cousin of the UK's trip-hop.

Muir uses illbient as the springboard for "Mana", utilizing a selection of samples to inform his frothy drones and foreboding atmospheres. He ushers the material into 2021 by diverting it through his own contemporary worldview, attempting to recreate the hyperreal fantasy histories of Japanese RPGs (think "Dark Souls" and "Final Fantasy") and nod to sensual, tactile soundscapes of European industrial labels Staalplaat and Soleilmoon. The result is a magickal, sensory journey that's as physical as it is representational.

If the illbient producers were encouraging a burgeoning experimental music landscape to emphasize the tactile feeling of turntablism and sample manipulation, Muir is doing the same with "Mana". Each track heaves and breathes not just with his cultural reference points, but with layered, complicated emotions. We can hear joy, sadness, desire and anguish, obscured by disintegrating noise, hallucinogenic harmonies and sub-aquatic bass. It's electronic music that's rooted not in technology, but in touch.

It’s 2020, the year Pop Ambient turns twenty-one years old, a spritely young adult waltzing out of its teenage joys and tears. Pop Ambient has always stood for a certain classicism and elegance, a kind of beatless music that’s diaphanous and hazy, gossamer and glittering. It’s a music that’s no less inviting for its slow pace and becalmed nature, with a different kind of tension bubbling under the surface. For twenty-one years, KOMPAKT co-founder Wolfgang Voigt has curated a series of peerless compilations that repeatedly find refreshing answers to a simple question – What happens when the dancefloor is empty, and everyone’s home to drift away?

As with many other Pop Ambient compilations, Pop Ambient 2021 offers a welcome platform to contributions from both old friends and new faces. It opens with the gorgeous, slo-mo drift of “Of A Vessel”, from new Kompakt signings Blank Gloss. Sending their music out into the world from their home in Sacramento, this duo makes music that’s featherlight and luscious, the muted chime of a guitar over here, the steady hum of a halatial drone over there; everything in its right place, and nothing overdone. The poise is all. Neozaïre (Tobias Sawitzki aka Noorden) and Seventh World (Juho Hietala aka Blamstrain) are our other two new voices, the latter closing (the CD version of) Pop Ambient 2021 with a long, lambent dreamsong, Neozaïre offering us two gaseous, morphing driftworks, “Vor den Toren Europas” and “In Verschwenderischer Fülle” (CD only), etched across with bell-like arpeggios.

Pop Ambient has always felt like a field for play for the KOMPAKT cognoscenti, and 2021 is no different, with Joachim Spieth collaborating with Pepo Galán on the sidereal visions of “Libration”, while Leandro Fresco teams up with Thore Pfeiffer on the lovely “Abejorro”. Pfeiffer also contributes two lovely solo miniatures of abstract longing. Yui Onodera calls in again, long distance, for their fourth Pop Ambient running, with the refracted, glinting lightscapes of “Cromo 5” and “Monochrome”, while there are also star turns from Max Würden, both solo and in Reich & Würden (with Luis Reichard), and Morgen Wurde, who drops by with the ‘ethereal drama’ of “Mittsommer”.

Pop Ambient gets the balance right: visions and soundscapes, long-distance communications and intimate asides, sweetness and light, drama and dreaming, all wrapped up in floral abstractions – a most beautiful distraction.

Wir schreiben das Jahr 2020, das Jahr, in dem Pop Ambient einundzwanzig Jahre alt wird – das entspricht etwa einem lebenshungrigen jungen Erwachsenen, der gerade aus den letzten Teenager-Freuden und Leiden herausgewachsen ist. Pop Ambient steht seit jeher für eine gewisse Klassik und Eleganz, beatfreie Musik, die, transparent und leicht verschwommen, zart und glitzernd leuchtet. Musik, die trotz ihrer Langsamkeit und ihrer sanften Natur unter Spannung steht, weil hier immer etwas unter der scheinbar ruhigen Oberfläche brodelt.

Einundzwanzig Jahre lang hat KOMPAKT-Mitbegründer Wolfgang Voigt diese einzigartige Compilation-Reihe kuratiert, die immer wieder neue Antworten auf eine einfache Frage findet: Wie füllt man die Leere nach dem Club?

Wie viele andere Pop Ambient-Compilations bietet auch Pop Ambient 2021 eine Plattform für die musikalischen Beiträge von alten Freunden und einigen neuen Gesichtern. Es beginnt mit dem wunderbaren Slo-Mo-Drift von "Of A Vessel" von Blank Gloss, einem neuen Kompakt Signing. Das Duo stammt aus Sacramento in Kalifornien und sendet von dort seine überaus leichte und sinnliche Musik in die Welt hinaus – ein zartes Zupfen an einer Gitarresaite hier, das gleichmäßige Dröhnen eines prunkvollen Soundscapes hier; alles ist hier am richtigen Platz und passiert ohne übertriebene Betonung. Gelassenheit ist alles. Neozaïre und Seventh World sind zwei weitere Neuzugänge. Hinter Seventh World steckt der finnische Produzent Juho Hietala aka Blamstrain, der (die CD Version von) Pop Ambient 2021 mit einem epischen, flackernden Traum names “Light The Waves Before Dawn“ beschließt, während Neozaïre, ein Seitenprojekt von Tobias Sawitzki aka Noorden, zwei gasförmige, sich immer wieder morphende und abdriftende Tracks abliefert: "In Verschwenderischer Fülle" (CD only) mit seinen glockenartigen Arpeggios und “Vor Den Toren Europas“.

Pop Ambient fühlte sich immer schon an wie ein Experimentierfeld für eingefleischte KOMPAKT-Künstler, und auch 2021 ist das nicht anders: zum Beispiel Joachim Spieth’s Kooperation mit Pepo Galán ("Libration") oder Leandro Fresco, der mit Thore Pfeiffer das liebevolle "Abejorro" produzierte. Pfeiffer steuert mit “Grape“ und “Center“ zwei weitere Solo-Miniaturen voller abstrakter Sehnsucht bei. Der japanische Klangkünstler Yui Onodera meldet sich mit den gebrochen-glitzernden Lichtlandschaften von "Cromo 5" und "Monochrome" bereits zum vierten Mal auf Pop Ambient zu Wort, während Max Würden sowohl solo, als auch als Teil von Reich & Würden (mit Luis Reichard) ebenso wie Morgen Wurde schon zu den Stars dieser Compilation gehört.

WRWTFWW Records presents an ultra limited (100 copies !) vinyl edition of Meemo Comma’s Decimation Of I album, originally released digitally in 2024 on Mike Paradinas' Planet Mu label. The collector’s pressing is housed in a heavyweight sleeve.
Decimation Of I is the fifth album by Brighton-based electronic musician Meemo Comma. It's a work based on the Strugatsky brothers‘ 1971 novel Roadside Picnic, a book that was also turned into the Russian cult classic Stalker by Andrei Tarkovsky. The inspiration came from reading the book alongside the backdrop of global climate disasters where an environment is rapidly becoming less habitable, all while powerful nations occupy and commit genocide.

The rough story of both film and novel is about a select group of characters exploring a land that has been transformed by alien visitors. We never meet the extraterrestrials, nor is it important to, we only have the artefacts left behind. The environment itself becomes the character, neither wholly Earth-like nor alien, but a surreal blend of both, inviting introspection on our insignificance amidst profound change. Within this land’s rebirth, our characters confront ego death, a necessary step towards the profound revelation, the discovery of one's true desire in the absence of ego.

The album opens with the innocent flutes of ’They, spoke,‘ and the disorienting electronica of ‘The Soldier‘ building towards the Terry Riley like undulating clarinets of ‘The Poet’, whose intertwining synth organ drones set the scene. Nods to the seventies electronica of Wendy Carlos and Eduard Artemyev can be heard with the use of Bach melodies in ‘P3Alpha Exotoxin‘ and ‘Area X,‘ however each of these songs draw the listener to primal noise undercurrents, their disintegrating melodies hinting at humanity's gradual dissolution, unveiling profound revelations beyond our comprehension.

As the album reaches its midpoint, ‘Spectral Alignment‘ paints a hazy morning prairie scene with Aaron Copland style French horn, restful woodwinds, spatial arpeggios and a warm drone culminating in an emotional pitstop as the soldiers wake in the dewy morning of this alien landscape, unaware the last of their humanity remains.

The last sentence in Roadside Picnic “HAPPINESS FOR EVERYBODY, FREE, AND MAY NO ONE BE LEFT BEHIND!” is the inspiration for ‘As It Is Written.’ We can either take from this the total annihilation of self has been filled with propaganda from their homeland, or the epiphany of their own autonomy in the war against a land and its inhabitants.

"I wanted to travel / Home into somewhere,"Ana Roxanne breathes across an eerie suspended drone on "The Age of Innocence". "I wanted to try / And go very far." These are the first words we hear on Poem 1 and reintroduce an artist who's in a conspicuously different phase of her life than she was when her debut album, Because of a Flower, sprouted nearly six years ago.

Heartbroken and reflective, Roxanne surveys the transformations that followed and displays a new-found boldness. Her voice is naked, vulnerable and alive, no longer shrouded in tape noise or looped and echoed beyond recognition beneath layered electroacoustic textures.

Throughout the course of Poem 1, Roxanne displays her skill as a singer and songwriter in the classic sense, using the limited instrumentation simply to accent her exposed tones. Muted piano phrases and plucked bass notes languidly trail her anguished siren song on "Berceuse in A-flat Minor, Op. 45", making each word count.

On "Keepsake" meanwhile, she sounds as if she's alone in an abandoned bar, stroking the dust off the piano's keys as she inventories her emotional scars. There's a smell of old whisky in the air, but Poem 1 is a remarkably sober album; never wallowing in self pity, Roxanne finds catharsis in the logic of her expressions, twisting out the edges of her memories into surreal, cinematic asides. "Untitled II", the album's pronounced, uninhibited centerpiece, delivers on the Lynchian promise that's been present since her first EP, 2019's ~~~. "

And when she interprets the Robert Schumann's lied "Stille Tränen" on "One Shall Sleep", she turns Justinus Kerner's words into a whispered echo of her own grief, narrating the 19th century poem over syrupy synthesizers and strings. There's a light emerging on the horizon, though; burying her past on the choral standout '"Cover Me", Roxanne shifts the pace and the mood on 'Atonement', lifting her voice into a gentle lilt.

Saxophonist, producer and composer Brian Allen Simon explores darker hues, transposing waking and altered states under his studio veil Anenon. On the deeply evocative new album 'Dream Temperature', he shifts electronic processing to the foreground, introducing digitized wind instruments and unworldly atmospherics, not heard since his innovating mid-late 2010s output.

A longtime Los Angeles resident, born and raised, Brian Allen Simon has expressively operated under the moniker Anenon, releasing the highly revered 'Petrol' (2016), 'Tongue' (2018) and the viscerally beautiful 'Moons Melt Milk Light' (2023), in a line of unwavering musical dialogues. While the penultimate album was a deliberate, reductive, entirely acoustic detour that was born out of a want to unplug, 'Dream Temperature' sees Brian primed with a newly discovered wind synthesizer as his central compositional tool, alongside acoustic piano and tenor saxophone. The entirety of the album's electronics are triggered by Brian's lungs, generating otherworldly synths modulated by expressive breath control, channelled through the laptop as the core processing chamber for added textural components and field recordings.

A free floating and heavy emotional resonance marks 'Dream Temperature' from beginning to end, invoking the feeling of waking up, still heavy from a night of half-remembered dreams, and continuing one's day in this state. Simon maps out the album's spatial voice early on the statement title track, a deep, yet compact cut, generated from digital saxophone rasps that whistle by in close proximity, along with haze filled textures and sub bass. There is a sonic oscillation of urban grit and pastoral drift throughout as tracks pass by like introspective thoughts, fueling both a tense and ethereal quality that underpins the album. Interluding solo and part-solo piano improvisations 'Last Sun 1' and '2' are positioned adjacent to the buffering digital soundscapes. Their softer, still processed timbres pierce the melancholic exterior, offering a contrasting tenderness that could echo the grace of Ry?ichi Sakamoto, the spiritualist rigor of ECM's Keith Jarrett and a touch akin to Aphex Twin's piano miniatures. 'Nulle Part 1+2' signals the first appearance of an acoustic wind instrument, as tenor saxophone flourishes are juxtaposed against noisy drones, all shouting at the void, with notes resurfacing like lost digital data.

The album was recorded at home during either sunset or nocturnal hours between September of 2024 and October of 2025, a period in which Brian found himself craving more lengthy and intimate studio time as he searched for more pronounced textural qualities amidst his new sonic ambitions. 'When The Light Appears, Boy' shows further evidence of this deeper universe, revealing a grittier edge as the album's essential blueprint is sonically inked. A sprawling expanse of wind synths rhythmically encircle the listener before a dreamy, ghostly ambience blankets 'Toyama'. The sound is evocative of the productions of post dubstep era luminaries such as Burial or the productions of HTRK's Nigel Yang. More isolating and enveloping than the previous all acoustic record, this is music both disorienting and yet warmly inviting all at once. A sonic diarist at heart, personal field recordings were also taken from Sardinia, Japan, Big Sur and LA which intersect at unexpected moments throughout the album's 31-minute play time.

'Dream Temperature' is a vital coalescence of both Simon's electronic and acoustic practices with repositioned electronics akin to earlier works, both haunting and elegant, yet still profoundly personal. Simon continuously resonates as an experimental outlier treading an enthralling, non-linear musical path. This music resolutely glows with an unknowing aura, like an untapped energy source waiting to be discharged.

London-based musician, composer, and NTS resident Kit Grill presents his extraordinary new album 'Andøya', inspired by a solo residency on the eponymous Norwegian island, a profoundly dramatic territory situated in the Vesterålen archipelago, inside the Arctic circle.

With evocative, sonorous ambient, drone, minimalism, experimentalism, and modern classical music, Grill captures the environmental essence of a remarkable region; an isolated Nordic landscape of small coastline villages, raw peatlands and sublime mountain ranges, surrounded by wide, open views of the Arctic ocean.

Drawn from his experience on solitary excursions around the island - hiking, exploring, and encountering the locals - 'Andøya' is a beautifully stark, stirring exploration of acoustic phenomena, seclusion in nature, and the expressive power of unique landscapes. For Grill, the trip entailed a surreal day-night cycle, and his experience has had far-reaching, existential implications, both for his practice and his perspective:

"On the 8th January 2025 I travelled to the Norwegian island of Andøya, in the Arctic Circle for a three week solo residency. Surrounded by sea, snow, and mountains, I lived in isolation and travelled around the island each day documenting the landscape. At 10am, the background light of the sun beneath the horizon would light the day and in the 4 hour window of light, I would hike into the mountains and explore the wilderness. It was a profound experience that changed the way I thought about sound, solitude, and what it means to be alone in nature."

"Since returning, I created a body of music informed by that time to try and capture the vastness and unpredictability of the Arctic landscape. The album moves through the sensory extremes: ice cracking, storms forming and fading, the rumble of tectonic plates, waves crashing, harsh winds, trudging through snow, and the sharpness of freezing air. The album aims to reflect both the landscape itself and the shifting emotions that came with living in isolation and the Arctic environment. The music and photography serve as a recorded diary of my time there, documenting the experience."

Salix is a bold new departure for modular synthesist Loula Yorke, seen here using an antique reed organ to explore the ancient roots of willow trees in magic, myth and medicine, as well as inviting another musician into her recording studio for the first time, clarinettist Charlotte Jolly.

The EP forms a sonic archive of a singular instrument: an antique free reed organ left behind by a previous encumbent of Asylum Studios, (the artists' co-operative in Suffolk where Yorke's Truxalis labelmate and life collaborator, Seiche, has a studio space). The organ is in poor condition and fascinatingly, painfully detuned. Yorke's recordings bring out its host of unusual quirks exacerbated by age and neglect: the powerful rhythmic creaking of the wooden treadles; the bone-shaking resonance emanating from its body at specific pitches; unexpected exclamations of harmonic collision from within the carcass redolent of a human voice; the piercing, shrieking whistles of broken reeds, and the powerful timbres unlocked via Yorke's experiments with various combinations of stops.

The three tracks that form Salix are inspired by a local weeping willow tree, a constant companion photographed over the course of a year. Boughs caught in a gyre. A maiden in mourning. Branches that gesture in the wrong direction. A tree turned upside down. A hand-woven willow basket, an old technology to gather and store. The journey of a lovelorn bard through the underworld, a bundle of willow under one arm for protection.

For the opening track, The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction, Yorke recorded herself playing a simple unaccompanied improvisation on the organ, the only ornamentation being the processed sounds of the keys being struck and returning to their positions.

For Bundle of Styx, a spell of protection is cast and then broken. Yorke invited virtuoso clarinettist Charlotte Jolly into the studio to test combining the breathy textures of both brass and natural reeds, the instruments uniting and obsuring each other in turn during this one-take improvisation. The organ's unpredictable sharpened tunings take centre stage here, with Jolly using them as a point of departure to conjure a set of peerless harmonic improvisations live in the moment. Throughout the improvisation, Yorke, a self-taught musician, unpracticed on the organ, supports and challenges, freely admitting that she's not always sure what effect her decisions to move up and down the keyboard or pull out certain stops will have. Jolly's genius lies in her ability to meet and build on every uncertain pitch thrown her way, saying of the experience, "I love that Loula isn't classically trained, I can't predict at all what she's about to do."

For the final track, With the Red Dawn, Yorke has come up with another unique combination of textures, this time bringing her own specialism in modular synthesis to the fore. A ten-minute reed organ drone characterised with ever-shifting bass swells and overtones is layered with tuned sines, often shudderingly wave-folded, that ebb and flow both in intensity and harmonic colour according to the duty cycles of eight interrelated LFOs. These recordings are collaged with Yorke's singing voice and a langorous, ascending sequence across two octaves on Jolly's clarinet, all arranged to form a cohesive whole far greater than the sum of its parts. Smatterings of untuned percussion and a fragment of a conversation between the duo left in the final mix cements Yorke's unprecious DIY aesthetic into the release.

At its heart, Salix is like watching the wind in the willows; hundreds of thousands of identical tiny leaves moving in confluence on its branches; at once one thing and many things; moment-to-moment our perception makes out different individuals parts within this expanse of texture, before sinking back into the whole.

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

New “Inversions” of drone rock pioneers Earth’s debut release. A collaboration between Dylan Carlson and Black Noi$e (Armand Hammer, Danny Brown, Earl Sweatshirt) formed in mutual respect and appreciation for one another. Both artists were intrigued by the creation of vast musical landscapes and the connection of music, with its ability to transport the listener. The music of Earth was recognised and celebrated for moving at a glacial pace and yet this new collaboration surprisingly saw Black Noi$e slowing things down even further.
The debut, which originally came out in 1991, notably featured Kelly Canary and Kurt Cobain on vocals on the tracks “A Bureaucratic Desire for Revenge Part 2” and “Divine and Bright”. Black Noi$e reimagines the original recordings with his experimental sensibility and innovative multi-instrumental, cross genre exploration. Applying contemporary electronics to the heavy droning bass and guitars and languid rhythms, this inversion oscillates and reverberates with a different kind of energy whilst simultaneously highlighting the much loved low slow and distorted properties of the original.

‘Extra Capsular Extraction’ was the first music Dylan made with Earth and his first time in a recording studio, which he recalls at the time as being “terribly exciting”. It also marked the first time collaborating with others and seeing it reified into a tangible object or product, a spirit that Dylan has carried through to the present. The original album is a document of a specific period and Dylan’s creative development. These inversions of Extra Capsular Extraction are, to quote Dylan, “an exciting way to reintegrate them into the present time and with my more expanded conceptions of musical endeavours”.
"Doom-metal innovators" Pitchfork.

"With guitars ramped up to the nth degree, but tuned to gut-wrenchingly low frequencies, Earth carved out a veritable canyon of pure molten drone, one which would have a profound influence on modern metal music." The Quietus

Ten years after their last collaboration, Jacques Duvall and Benjamin Schoos return with Plein Sommeil, a duo album that is at once melancholic, ironic, and tender—a poetic mirror of the fatigue of the modern world.

The legendary lyricist for Lio, Chamfort, and Daho meets the indie pop producer and sonic adventurer of Freaksville, in a generational union as improbable as it is natural.
Between Brussels and Paris, they weave songs about slowness, worn-out love, and resistance through gentleness.

Blending original compositions and delicate covers (The Kinks, Higelin, Daho), the album evokes a sensual and lucid refuge amid the overheating of everyday life.
Recorded with Bertrand Burgalat, The Loved Drones, and lush string arrangements, Plein Sommeil embraces a handcrafted, timeless aesthetic.

Its motto: “Slow business” — a manifesto against the speed and emptiness of contemporary times.

Each song, balancing irony and elegance, celebrates fragility and humanity.

London quartet The Leaf Library return with their bold new album After The Rain, Strange Seeds. A luminous collection of pastoral indiepop, drawing inspiration from suburban isolation, unreliable memories and the surreality of the weather. Their most immediate and melodic work to date, the richly evocative songs brim with chiming guitars, buzzing organs and warm, dulcet strings, evoking Yo La Tengo’s more contemplative moments, The Clientele’s autumnal jangle pop and early Stereolab’s motorik melodicism. The sound of the album is defined by mixer John McEntire, whose work with Stereolab and Yo La Tengo (as well as a member of Tortoise/The Sea And Cake) have been major inspirations to the band.
The album explores themes of memory and place, albeit through an abstract haze – returning again and again to specific moments frozen in time: midsummer bright hot days in the Chilterns (“Sun In My Room”), meteorology and the strange movement of the weather (“Colour Chant”), red kites circling over suburban motorways (“Some Circling”), and the uncanny feeling of dusk and nighttime creatures on “The Reader’s Lamp” (titled by celebrated film director Peter Strickland). The lyrics are vivid yet elliptical, strung with abstract ideas and imagery, conjuring a gently unsettling, though never unwelcoming atmosphere. Not quite trusting your own recollection of things, while marvelling at the oddness of the natural world, the album’s title a good summation of the mix of strangeness and hope contained within.

As on past albums the band - founded by singer Kate Gibson and ex-Saloon guitarist Matt Ashton in the mid 2000s, and now completed by drummer Lewis Young and bassist Gareth Jones - have involved their extended musical family, including guitarist Mike Cranny (of fellow drone pop travellers Firestations) and keyboardist Irina Shtreis, both members of the Leaf Library live band. The album also sees the return of James Underwood’s Iskra Strings, a quartet that features on 4 tracks, with sumptuous arrangements by Daniel Fordham, as well as regular contributor Melinda Bronstein on vocals and Will Twynham (Dimorphodons) on harpsichord. They also welcomed Paddy Milner (on Hammond organ) and Scott McKeon (guitar) – both current members of Tom Jones’ band – for a startlingly delicate rolling crescendo to closing track “There Was Always A Golden Age”.
After The Rain, Strange Seeds is their 4th studio album. The result is The Leaf Library’s most accomplished and affecting work, John McEntire’s mix bringing a bold clarity to the band’s meticulous arrangements – closer to how they sound live than anything they’ve done before.

Für Chantal Michelle ist das Komponieren von Musik wie eine Art Choreografie. In surrealen Klangwelten verbinden sich verschiedene Töne miteinander - sie bewegen sich zusammen und entfernen sich dann wieder voneinander - in einem Prozess, der sich ständig im Hörfeld wiederholt. Diese sich ständig verändernde Konstellation zeigt, wie zerbrechlich und veränderlich Wahrnehmung sein kann, ein Thema, das in Michelles Arbeit immer wieder auftaucht. Michelle, die schon früh eine Tanzausbildung absolvierte, bringt eine ausgeprägte räumliche Sensibilität in ihre Arbeit ein: ein intuitives Verständnis dafür, wie Formen koexistieren und sich durch drei Dimensionen bewegen, sowie eine Wertschätzung für die Schönheit, die sich in ungewöhnlichen Gegenüberstellungen von Materialien und Ideen findet. Seit sie 2021 ihre Solokarriere gestartet hat, hat sie internationale Anerkennung für ihre geduldigen, akribischen Aufnahmen bekommen, die oft zusammen mit Installationen, Mehrkanalkompositionen und Klangskulpturen entstehen. Innerhalb dieser subtil verwirrenden Klangarchitekturen können neue Beziehungen entstehen, neue Grenzen gezogen werden, und die Zuhörer werden zu einer Erfahrung von Zeit eingeladen, die sich der Linearität widersetzt. All Things Might Spill, Michelles erstes Album für Shelter Press, ist eine Auseinandersetzung mit anhaltender Spannung und der mysteriösen Erfahrung der Zeitdehnung in den Momenten kurz vor einem Bruch oder Zusammenbruch. Die Musik bewegt sich in einem Raum der Instabilität, und obwohl sie durchgehende Töne und definierte melodische Phrasen verwendet, herrscht eine Atmosphäre der Unentschlossenheit - wie ein Moment der Unruhe, der auf unbestimmte Zeit in der Schwebe bleibt. Ein Großteil des Albums wurde in den Wintermonaten 2024 in Berlin aufgenommen, wobei viele frühe Morgenstunden in einem Raum subtiler Unruhe verbracht wurden. Man sagt, dass Licht in die Dunkelheit eindringt, und diese Übergangszeit, die von Erwartungen geprägt ist, ist in der Musik zu hören. In ,Presence of Border" winden und verflechten sich nebulöse Stimmen, während sie über mehrdeutigen Harmonien schweben, die sich in unendliche Ferne zu erstrecken scheinen. Die beiden kurzen Stücke ,Magnetic Field I" und ,Magnetic Field II" enthalten bearbeitete Aufnahmen einer Tromba Marina, gespielt von der argentinischen Klangkünstlerin Alma Laprida. Die Gegenüberstellung von kratzigen Tönen und hauchzarten Obertönen erzeugt tamburaähnliche Drones, die den Zuhörer in einen schwer fassbaren Mittelpunkt ziehen. Später auf dem Album gibt es in ,Drying of Frozen Soils" modale Klarinettenlinien von Severin Black, die anfangs in dem nebligen, synthetischen Hintergrund fast nicht zu hören sind, bevor sie sich zu einem gespenstischen Kontrapunkt entwickeln. Eine ähnliche Struktur aus Unklarheit und Klarheit prägt den Titeltrack, in dem wortlose Gesänge eine laute Feldaufnahme durchdringen, die auf einer Fähre aufgenommen wurde, die den East River von Brooklyn nach Manhattan überquert. Das ist Musik mit einem weitläufigen Terrain und einer dichten Atmosphäre. Veränderungen sind langsam, aber dramatisch, jede Verschiebung ist sorgfältig geplant, um Gefühle des Staunens und der Vorfreude zu wecken und gleichzeitig eine erhabene Sensibilität dafür zu bewahren, wie einzelne Klänge mit der Bewegung ihrer Umgebung in Beziehung stehen. Michelle verzichtet meisterhaft auf Narrative und komponiert in drei Dimensionen. Wir bleiben mit der Mehrdeutigkeit des Wortes ,might" zurück - der anhaltenden Möglichkeit des energetischen Ansturms des Bruchs, des Ausbrechens, mal am Horizont, mal unmittelbar bevorstehend, irgendwie beides gleichzeitig.

Just when you thought Kevin Richard Martin's music couldn’t go any slower, lower or deeper, Sub Zero emerges. A slow-motion excavation of drug-tech, dub, dreamy noise and frozen ambience, the album gradually mutates into hypnotic pulsations and melodic melancholia. It is arguably Martin’s most striking release to date under his given name.


Originally released digitally on Bandcamp only in the depths of winter 2022, amid the final year of the COVID-19 pandemic and Russia’s initial invasion of Ukraine, this desolate epic went on to become KRM's best-selling digital album on the platform. With persistent demand for a vinyl pressing and a full DSP release from fans, Martin thought the time was right for Sub Zero to finally surface in its full glory: remastered and paired with fresh new artwork.


Unnervingly, the album is as beautiful as it is solemn, as glacial as it is relentless, and as subtle as it is terrifying. A trip into a sonic abyss, with a tour of a philosophical void, it’s to my ears, KRM’s most seductive work yet, and also his most emotionally resonant. Martin expertly balances tear-jerking motifs with heavier than hell rhythmic weight. With its melodic fog, eternal drones and eerie atmospherics, the peripheral throb of distant kick drums, the heartbeat punctuation of cavernous subs and the snowstorm blizzard of fuzz absolutely envelopes the mind, whilst crushing the soul.


In terms of lineage, Sub Zero might recall a more paranoid Porter Ricks, a dystopian GAS, or a brutally dubbed-out Pan Sonic. Most fitting, however, is its kinship with the deepest dub terrain Martin previously explored on In Blue, The Bug’s acclaimed 2020 collaboration with Dis Fig for Hyperdub, where he obsessively probed subaqueous pulses and low-end modulations.


Sub Zero is possibly the most minimal, desolate, and deviant dub record yet released on Martin’s PRESSURE label. It marks the point at which dub disappears into its own effects trails. Dub music capturing frozen moments in time. Dub as an addictive painkiller, that sounds both sacred and ocean deep.

West Mineral returns with lushly amorphous actions by Shiner, Pontiac Streator & Ben Bondy aka Shinetiac; together fused for an immersive flux of vapoured dub, chopped and droned Billie Eilish, and fidgety algorithmic jams.

There's not a single, specific sound you can peg to the West Mineral axis at this stage in the label’s evolution - it's rather a set of shared aesthetics that freely bend into various interconnected shapes. Shinetiac's contemptuous, critic-baiting gear is the ideal example; on their last album, 2023's 'Not All Who Wander Are Lost', skittery, ketamized IDM sparkled over Spice Girls samples and the Foo Fighters' 'Everlong' was transmuted into Sneaker Pimps-style trip-hop. 'Infiltrating Roku City' might be a little less blatant with its out-and-out poptimism, but it takes a similarly dim view of conservative "big ambient" snobbishness. Just a few minutes of 'Bluemosa' should be enough to let you know what's up; the overall character of the sound is hazed, with frozen pads and garbled, dubbed-out voices smudged into a mess of effects and samples. But it sups up different nuances as it wriggles, absorbing scampering breaks, dizzy acoustic guitar strums and half-heard wordless vocals, flipping in the third act to emerge from its shell as minimalist balearic folk-pop - something like Bon Iver doing 'Electric Counterpoint'.

Brooklyn's Shiner, Philly's Pontiac Streator and Berlin-based Ben Bondy navigate the labyrinthine streaming landscape, guided by their own private experiences of mindless doom-scrolling and cruising the darkest corners of YouTube. They formulated 'Infiltrating Roku City' while they were rehearsing last year and spent the winter stitching together various recordings and jams into a layered, dry-witted commentary on our algorithmic reality. Laden with inside jokes and refried memes, it's surprisingly elegant gear; handling the most unseemly elements like sonic recyclers, earnestly repurposing pop and nostalgia to create an atmospheric echo of contemporary reality.

Screwing Chief Keef's enduring 'Citgo', 'Clublyfe (hulu)' emphasises the original's AFX-pilled euphoria with Robert Miles-style piano hits, replacing Young Ravisu's brittle 128kbps trap rhythm with a glitchy rattle that picks up dembow spikes as it rolls. 'I Hate Being Sober' vaporises the Chicago drill pioneer's 'Hate Bein' Sober', blocking out his voice with glitchy, downsampled interference and elasticated Rhodes. The trio team up with Orange Milk's goo age on the sublime 'Crisis Angel', catching a ray of Malibu's sunshine in the process, and reduce Billie Eilish's voice to a Romance-does-Celine cinder on 'Billie', stretching it to fit next to gassed Future ad-libs and swooping 808 Mafia sub womps. And although the album takes a murky diversion on 'Roku Axes Ultra’, and a cloud-stepping centrepiece ‘Purelink’ in homage to the eponymous dubbed ambient dynamos, it's back on course with 'Jiafei (NETFLIX)', taking aim at TikTok bot videos and welding screams from Florida metal band Underoath to AI-strength vocal curlicues.

Inspired by witnessing the broken tension and renewed possibilities of a laptop breaking down at a gig – not to mention the void left behind by the sudden end of a relationship – Pentu’s latest release is a jump-cut menagerie of musical moments. Sewn together into ‘And I Saw My Devil And I Saw My Deep Blue Sea’, these fifteen tracks continue the London-based producer’s active departure from the soundscapes and song structures that dominated their previous writing style. These disparate pieces slice themselves off into sudden silence, or veer into unpredictable sidebars, hopping from hyperactive instrumentals to beautifully deconstructed YouTube samples. Described by Pentu as “emotionally intuitive to write”, this is music by and for the endlessly scrolling modern mind – “navigating the world alongside the splintered, interruptive emotional hyper realities of social media.”

The sudden silences, drones, and interruptions are perhaps less surprising than the guitar-based textures of metal & shoegaze woven into several vital passages by Pentu. The result is a collage that encapsulates the erratic feeling, not only of a relationship’s end, but simply of navigating online mediascapes.”I found myself realising that my phone, the constant interrupter of nothingness and silence, was both a cause of depression (reliving memories, dating apps) and a relief from it (creating new friendships, distractions, also dating apps)”, says Pentu.

Pentu’s attempt to overcome content overload by actively curbing his setup of laptop-guitar--synth does little to reduce the scope of this album’s sonic palette. YouTube vlog samples (from videos with next-to-no views) are an attempt to recontextualise and dramatise material that “would have otherwise been throwaway moments lost in the internet”, adding staccato moments of reality to Pentu’s beautiful and jarring album-length paean to overstimulation.

Across an extensive suite of enchanting miniatures, Matthias Kremsreiter and Christian Schoppik present the hypnagogic vision of Taghelle Nacht. Recording under their respective Roudi Vagou and Läuten der Seele aliases, Kremsreiter and Schoppik combine their distinct but equally accomplished instrumental practices into a new collaboration that weaves swooning samples amongst instrumental passages. They lead us through 16 vignettes that revel in the cognitive dissonance and seductive magic of moonlight at midnight.

Both artists have past form within the folds of contemporary experimental electronic music in Germany. Kremsreiter's work as alibikonkret has manifested on DIY tape releases created with a methodical, technically-minded approach. Debuting his Roudi Vagou pseudonym on Taghelle Nacht, he pivots to a more playful, instinctively felt method that allows the compositions to flow with a natural cadence. Schoppik has been a key figure in the celebrated dark-ambient-folk scene, not least as part of the group Brannten Schnüre. His work as Läuten der Seele includes the acclaimed 'water trilogy' of LPs between 2022 and 2024, with a greater emphasis on instrumental, atmospheric production, and a last, stunning collaborative album with Nový Sv?t's Jota Solo.

On Taghelle Nacht the precise ingredients of each piece soften at the edges as tape loops and swathes of reverb seal the joints between spellbinding melodic refrains. Opening track and lead single 'Gleisende Lichter' sets the tone with ghostly murmurs, spine-tingling string refrains and splashes of cymbal that cut through the gloom with stark clarity. A lilting romanticism stirs at the heart of the orchestral samples that populate the likes of "Grenzu?berschreitung" - old-world beauty sometimes buried in dust, elsewhere rendered with startling clarity. 'So Süß' lets buzzing, sustained drones and dissonant sweeps of extended technique glide in and out of each other. Granular processing subtly breaks apart the mellow swell on 'Komischer Anruf', and forlorn sax calls out into heavy-hearted space on 'Glaskopf Mit Watte'. At every turn a new scene is painted, distinct from the last and yet all bound up in the pervasive, pale blue light cast over the sleeping landscape Kremsreiter and Schoppik have sculpted.

Snatches of song drift by like dreamlike fragments, and achingly tender flourishes fleetingly appear and retreat - ideas and expressions momentarily caught in the light before retreating into the shadows once more. This is the evocative world of Taghelle Nacht - an unsettling depiction of the surreal blend of memories and imagination that merge into each other once the sun goes down.

Active for 40 years, Nurse with wound is one of the projects of Steven Stapleton, materialized in a very wide range of hysterical noise over sound collages and cut ups, abstract music, soothing drones and surreal sound paintings, and more rhythmical and mechanical pieces, always inspired by Dadaism and Futurism, Krautrock, jazz improvisation, surrealism, never losing his main goal, that is having fun and enjoying himself.He has had many collaborators, a recurrent one in the 80s and 90’s being Current 93’s David Tibet, another noticeable one still at work with him is Andrew Liles.The main line of this unpredictable sound builder is hectic and uncompromised, his point of view is that everything is possible and applies it to himself. As a youngster he wanted to be an artist so decided he was one . He is not a musician, and says he has no interest in becoming one. Surprisingly, (or not!), the love of his life is building sculptures out of recycled and reclaimed materials, building things with anything, even junk. And sounds, we are a witness to it.With these very strange juxtapositions of styles and manners, female rap music and 50s and 60s lounge music having a special top priority in Steven’s tastes, and a creativity that has no bounds no taboos, with a taste of novelty every time, Nurse with wound will no doubt continue to surprise people listening to his works, and himself, as he wants to keep it fresh every time, mostly for him.

Loaded with tension and anchored by bold textural and stylistic contrasts, Sam Slater’s third solo full-length finds the British sound artist, composer, and engineer grappling with his creative contradictions head-on.

Having spent a life time in bands and producing records, Sam transitioned somewhat by accident through his work with Johan Johansson into working as a composer on high profile projects such as his collaboration with Hildur Guðnadóttir on the Grammy Award-winning Joker and Chernobyl, and with Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Mstyslav Chernov on the soundtrack to the lauded 2000 Meters to Andriivka. Having a vast set of interests and influences is an asset when helping realise a directors vision for a soundtrack, but one's own musical voice can end up being constrained. In Lunng, Slater has gone back to his wildly divergent range of influences and rather than shy away from the extremes, he's used them to create a singular vision.

Take the opening track “Heatsick”: Slater imagines an extravagant fusion of 2000s drone metal and vintage British brass, welding ear-splitting overdriven drones and blown-out choral vocals to stirring trombone swells from veteran player Hilary Jeffery. On paper, it’s hard to imagine—but Slater’s intentionality conducts these polarizing elements into a surreal blur of sonic extremes, with the guitars’ relative harshness softened by Jeffery’s eerily nostalgic colliery echoes.

His last solo album, I do not wish to be known as a Vandal (Bedroom Community, 2022), showcased this breadth by assembling a team of collaborators including Sam Dunscombe and Yair Elazar Glotman. On this record he’s linking up with acclaimed multi-instrumentalist Maria W. Horn, idiosyncratic sax virtuoso Bendik Giske, versatile percussionist Adam Betts, and the aforementioned Jeffery, Slater ushers these players toward a lattice of calculated confutations.

Working to explore the tension between the divergent practices of his collaborators—Lunng was meant to be challenging. On “Praya”, Giske’s familiar overblown horn phrases are almost vaporized, vanishing among Slater’s weightless synths and Horn’s chillingly hoarse vocals. There are traces of Horn’s Funeral Folk project, but Slater shifts the emphasis, letting her voice brush past the other elements like a hallucination.

Slater’s use of extremes isn’t just in the micro; dynamics drive the album’s overall flow. “Praya” sets the stage for the record’s heaviest, most prickly moment: “Passengers”. Here, Horn’s voice cracks, rasps, and gurgles over serrated synths and Betts’ ritualistic drums. Slater turns an industrial symphony into a folk opera—dark, dramatic, and strangely beautiful—etched with Giske’s fluttering phrases.

But the mood soon shifts. Slater careens toward chaos, unleashing double-time rhythms and piercing textures familiar to anyone with a soft spot for classic black metal. These grotesque incongruities are deliberate; Slater surveys years of musical conflict and leans in, using dissent as fuel to build kinetic energy.

The weight of sentimentality bears down on “Black Metal Rewind (Night Drive Astra, 2006)”, melting teenage memories into hypnagogic ambience—shoegaze dreams whirled with angelic choral delusions. On “Death by Nostalgia, 1688”, he ventures further into polarizing territory, distorting AutoTuned voices with cryptic strings and medieval tonalities, unsettling any stable sense of past or present.

In this record Slater focuses on pure energy, color, and mood. Lunng distills years of listening into a bracing brew—boiling each sound down to its essence, then serving it with unflinching intent.

John Twells, 2025

A chopped-and-screwed love letter to the sounds of rebajada – half-speed cumbia, pioneered by Sonido Dueñez in the 1990s, and born from an overheated turntable motor that didn’t make the crowd stop dancing. With Debit’s treatment, rebajada becomes an ethereal, at times intense ambient tapestry that’s also a history lesson.

Spend any amount of time pacing the streets of Monterrey, the bustling city in the north of Mexico where Delia Beatriz, aka Debit, grew up, and you’ll be sure to catch traces of cumbia echoing from Bluetooth speakers, DIY soundsystems, or car stereos. An Afro-Latin dance form and »practica cultural« originating in Colombia in the early 19th century, cumbia evolved rapidly in the early 1900s, as a localised sound played on drums and flutes quickly modernised to integrate European instrumentation like the accordion. When it reached Mexico in the 1940s, the sound shifted again, fusing with mariachi styles and integrating further vallenato folk elements. Eventually, cumbia spread across the entirety of Latin America, splintering into a spectrum of different musical styles such as chicha in Peru, and cumbia villera in Argentina. And over in Monterrey, cumbia inadvertently found its own idiosyncratic groove.

From the 1950s to the 1970s, waves of immigrants from across Mexico and Latin America headed to Monterrey to find work, making a home in Colonia Independencia. Colombian cumbia records, shipped in from Mexico City, Houston, and Miami, became the soundtrack of the neighbourhood, relaying familiar stories to a rural working class adjusting to their new industrial reality. The sound struck a chord with locals, and huge street parties hosted by ramshackle soundsystems known as sonideros unified the diverse community. So when cumbia rebajada materialised serendipitously in the 1990s, it emphasised and highlighted the memory distortions at the heart of the immigrant experience. Local record collector, selector, and sonidero Gabriel Dueñez had been playing cumbia for hours one night when disaster struck: his turntable’s motor overheated and slowed down, turning the music into a warped groan, with half-speed voices echoing over wobbly accordion drones and splashy drums. But the crowd kept dancing, and Sonido Dueñez realised he’d struck gold – cumbia rebajada was born.

Over the next few years, he dubbed a popular series of mixtapes, hawking them at the flea market on the dried-up Santa Catarina riverbed beneath El Puente del Papa, the bridge that links downtown Monterrey with Independencia. These woozy archives became the stuff of legend, poetically but subconsciously shadowing DJ Screw’s series of epochal cassettes that appeared over the border in Houston. Beatriz uses Sonido Dueñez’s first two tapes as the starting point for »Desaceleradas«, entering into a dialogue with time, culture, and geography as she recalls the sonic ecosystem that surrounded her decades ago, long before she emigrated to the USA. If 2022’s acclaimed »The Long Count« was an attempt to recover concealed pre-Columbian history in the face of colonisation, »Desaceleradas« jumps forward, figuring out how memory and shared celebration can resist a more contemporary form of cultural erasure. As AI systems scrape, blend, and decontextualise culture around us, leaving vapid slop, »Desaceleradas« proposes a slower, more careful, and ultimately more human kind of engagement. It’s an archive with a pulse.

“There's a clarity here that feels hard-won. Honing ideas first explored with his Organic Music series, Tiago Sousa unlocks the final puzzle pieces on Sustained Tones Vol 1. This music is enchanted, the way each layer moves in conjunction with the others: complex structures that feel less constructed than discovered, like stumbling upon ancient mechanisms still whirring beneath the earth. "Readily Reliance" opens as an effervescent sea, waves gilded in neon creating an enveloping sense of eternal motion. Bright organ timbres throw silhouettes and cast Sousa as the deft puppeteer keeping everything moving with an effortless precision. These evolving shapes suspend listeners somewhere between the physical and the cosmic, held in place by nothing but intention and sound.

Drones build rippling foundations in other places, using slower tempos to construct immersive, off-kilter sound worlds where minimalism becomes emotive, almost poignant. The fluctuating tones have a gossamer sheen, creating this interesting sonic dichotomy: a solid surface with fragile rotations beneath. It's music that commands attention; it is so much more than simply aural furniture. Sousa writes these beautiful sequences that are all interconnected, intricate sonic architecture that pulls us further into some kind of unknowable ether.

On the piano pieces, "Smooth Flow Into It" and "Swirling Mist and Thin Dust," Sousa shines sunlight through all the cracks. Washes of melody are effervescent, clouds clearing to reveal the day has not gone. Not yet. Positioned in the middle of Sustained Tones Vol 1, these pieces ground the album in something transcendent yet still earthen: moments of breath inside all that cosmic drift. Darkness finds its way through on "Restlessness," where Sousa smears sinuous electronics into a ghostly sonic mesh that seeps through the skin. It feels like a slow inhale, time suspended long enough to take note of where we are and how we feel before moving forward. Expressive, almost sparkling synth arrangements return to send us back into reality on closer "Becoming a Landscape." Its title hints at larger concepts at play throughout this album, where lines between our physical beings and the wider environment are blurred. The tones that echo throughout these six pieces mirror the echoes inside our bodies, from heartbeats and voices to something quieter, something much smaller and more elemental. By immersing us inside these mesmerising, beautiful soundscapes, Sousa immerses us within ourselves.’’

Brad Rose, 2025

NPVR is the avant garde duo made up of the late Peter Rehberg and Nik Void. Editions Mego is proud to present their second and final release. No this is not some kind of Beatles synthetic AI that raises the dead reconstructed recordings but rather a new album made by the humans and their machines.

The initial meeting of Rehberg and Void was in London in 2016 and despite or due to their mutual awkwardness found solace and compatibility in the fact that they both had a similar electronic modular set up, along with matching cases to transport all. The idea to collaborate was an obvious and organic process as a means to connect their individual gear together and observe the outcome. The fruits of these initial experiments, recorded in London, resulted in the playful experimentation of their acclaimed 2017 release 33 33 (eMego 251).

Now in 2024 Editions Mego presents the logically titled follow up, 33 34. These sessions were recorded six months after the initial recordings at Peter’s home in Vienna. This was planned out as a mirror city release to the original London recordings. With Peter having access to his full studio set up this time around we encounter a rich audio landscape which organically folds together a variety of musical genres blurring any distinction between these forms so the resulting music hovers as a new cloud of sound. Any musical form, be it industrial, electro-acoustic, ambient, drone and techno all coexist and melt into the other as the ensuing result unveils a hypnotic swarm of divergent sounds (music). When active there were no lines or contexts with NPVR, either between sound or genre within these recordings or live where NPVR were at home playing at a techno club one night and an avant garde venue the next.

The initial session of these recordings was edited by Rehberg and sent to Void to further develop. Over time the final versions were agreed on and then shelved as other outside projects took over. The awkwardness had been surmounted and the two had become close friends. NPVR performed at a range of venues such as Tresor, Sutton House, Corsica, Blitz, Paris GRM #Focus2, LEV Festival and Rigas Skanumezs Festival. Following Rehberg’s untimely passing Void had difficulty listening back to the sessions but eventually thought it fit to complete and release this album, of which even the artwork (like 33 33, an image from Zurich photographer, Georg Gatsas) had been decided upon prior to Rehberg parting ways.

There is an unmistakable joy to these recordings. One encounters an enthralling exploration of their chosen machines which conveys the excitement of what can be randomly conjured when people speak through such devices. There is no grand statement or argument here, just the sheer thrill of creation and the recorded results of random encounters. The art of collaboration was always a mainstay of Rehberg’s practice from the advent of the MEGO adventure. Rehberg & Bauer was an initial collaboration with former business partner Ramon Bauer. Even at this stage one can hear a relaxed sense of delight in the sheer discovery of sound.

A mix made for the Wire magazine following the release of 33 33 hints at the freedom that comes with endless urge for exploration and discovery. Abstract tracks from Z'EV. Jérôme Noetinger and Jung An Tagen are included alongside British stalwarts The Fall and New Order. There were no lines between pop / academic / underground or mainstream in Rehberg’s world. All of it sat at the same table. It is just matter in the atmosphere, like the diverse exploration found in these recordings that comprise 33 34.

Towards the end of his life Rehberg was obsessing over the immense output of the German ambient musician Pete Namlook. An artist renowned for not only his sprawling catalogue of ambient masterpieces but one who often said his main inspiration was nature. This is apt with regards to the work of NPVR which also aligns with such thought as the intertwining of the two individual artists and their machines results in a natural symbiotic flow, as it happens, just like in the world around us.

"Ensomheden Vi Deler" ("The Loneliness We Share") is the result of a dialogue between the collages and the music of øjeRum, initiated by IIKKI, between December 2024 and July 2025.

øjeRum is Copenhagen based musician and collage artist Paw Grabowski.

With his collages, the distinctive feature of øjeRum's works is their ability to combine different historical and artistic periods, such as ancient sculpture, medieval frescoes, classical painting and photography, and to make them interact with one another. øjeRum is also renowned for his work as a musician, where he stands out for his surreal, mysterious and poetic universe. His music and art are closely linked. These two sides of the artist's work are constantly intertwined.

In his øjeRum guise, he plucks and strums his treated acoustic instruments, sounding at times like church bells, at times like angelic harp, at time like drones, and suspends the listener in the magic of his melodies. With a deep back-catalogue of releases since 2014 - spanning labels such as eilean rec., Room40, Line, Opal Tapes and many more - he continues exploring his minimal, textural and deeply personal style of ambient music.

The collage and music project "Ensomheden Vi Deler" ("The Loneliness We Share") is an exploration of loneliness, closeness and distance. A meditation on the fragile architectures and hidden shapes of human connection. This is his second release on IIKKI.

Fine Art Book, Ltd. to 500 copies:
Hand numbered & hand stamped / first edition and only edition (no re-print) / hardcover book (15 cm x 21 cm) on Wibalin Natural Cotton White / 80 pages, 35 collages printed on Freelife Vellum 120g/m2 / Swiss Binding / Coloured edges with neon green pantone / Neon Green pantone on front and back cover (logo, slot and circle) / Sticker on front cover.

A meditative, folk-inflected score rooted in improvisation, ‘Dragon’s return’ echoes the soul of A film long buried behind the Iron Curtain



With Dragon’s Return, Australian composer and multi-instrumentalist Oren Ambarchi and Norwegian guitarist Fredrik Rasten present a new, meditative score to Eduard Grecner’s eponymous 1967 Slovak cult film — a stark, black-and-white parable.



The album captures a unique live performance recorded at the Videodroom Festival during Film Fest Ghent in October 2024, where this new score premiered alongside the film in collaboration with the Slovak Film Institute. What began as a fleeting, improvisational encounter between music and image has since taken on a life of its own — an evocative sound world that retains its power even in the absence of visuals.



The album will be available on vinyl and all digital platforms from September 12 via VIERNULVIER Records. The vinyl edition includes an obi strip, a booklet with film stills, and extensive liner notes on the film.



The label is known for shedding new light on forgotten films through reimagined soundtracks — claire rousay’s acclaimed The Bloody Lady being the most recent example.


“Folklore meets avant-garde in an ancient drama - a ballad about love, hate and finding a way out of loneliness” - Rastislav Steranka (Slovak Film Institute)



Ambarchi and Rasten do not accompany the images so much as speak through them. Their interplay — on guitars, flutes, percussion, and voice — unfolds slowly, without a fixed destination, culminating in subtle, entrancing drones. With few breaks or ruptures, this trippy, folk-inflected continuous composition invites surrender.



Rasten’s 12-string guitar and delicate use of voice create layered textures that shimmer and shift. Ambarchi, known for his electro-acoustic work, here explores a radically softer mode — strumming, bowing and coaxing tones from his instrument as though it were a string section unto itself. He blows into shells, adding breath and texture to the sonic palette, touching on something elemental.


Together, they evoke a sound world that feels both ritualistic and strangely familiar — as if echoing from a forgotten ceremony or dreamed into being after hearing an old folk tale. Rooted in improvisation, the music speaks in tones both intimate and expansive, shaped live in dialogue with the film and with each other, with only minimal overdubs added afterward.

Chaos is fundamental for creating something powerful. It teaches us to be at ease with how things are, to listen to ourselves, and find our own order’. (Enrico Sangiuliano)

Pioneering, avant garde yet chart-storming sound designer/producer/live performer Enrico Sangiuliano drops EP ‘Order In Chaos’ as release #1 in his self-destructing countdown imprint ‘NINETOZERO’, out 20th November. The EP’s three tracks respectively represent a triptych of sound exploring tension, release, and dissolution, with violinist and composer Vito Gatto joining Italian techno/melodic maestro Sangiuliano for tracks 1 and 3. The EP blends electronic, classical and electro-acoustic genres, resulting in a fresh, unique product that defies typical techno expectation, as Sangiuliano and Gatto explore the concept of disorder as a creative playground.

‘With this chapter, we dive into chaos – something that can be uncomfortable, but is the place in which you can find unexpected or new ideas. Chaos is fundamental for creating something powerful. It teaches us to be at ease with how things are, to listen to ourselves, and find our own order’. (Sangiuliano)

The ‘Order In Chaos’ EP continues a momentous year for Enrico Sangiuliano, and heralds his upcoming all-night-long SOLO show at Nitsa in Barcelona (Nov 28th, tickets here). His highly acclaimed NINETOZERO label has also previously featured Charlotte de Witte, Antonio d’Africa, Mattia Saviolo, GMS, Alex Lentini, STOMP BOXX, Zimmz, Secret Cinema and About Sofiya.

Vito Gatto is a Milan-based violinist, composer and sound explorer. He is the founder of label/collective NeMu (‘Neutral Mutation’) producing Italian projects at the interface of electronic and organic sound. His self-description as ‘Making sounds, looking for silence’ makes him the perfect collab partner for ‘Order In Chaos’, which ‘embraces the paradox: chaos births order, and order dissolves back into chaos.’

‘Whilst classically trained, I have always been fascinated by the world of electronic music, in all its expressive forms’ Gatto says. ‘I use real instruments and natural sound sources processing them through electronics to enhance their unpredictability, always remembering that the core of music - whether classical or electronic - is communication and storytelling. This philosophy guided our creative synthesis on this release.’

The collaborative workflow combined remote and in-person studio work over roughly a year, culminating in these three key tracks reflecting different musical and conceptual layers.

‘Order In Chaos’ EP tracks:
Enrico Sangiuliano & Vito Gatto ‘Adaptation for Strings and 909’: A cinematic overture built from the raw intimacy of Vito Gatto’s violin, processed and layered with unquantized 909 drums. Out of grid, out of rules. Drama and turbulence surge until thunderous kicks strike like sudden storms. ‘This track symbolises both of us. Vito sent the strings, I added the iconic Roland 909. It has no structure and no grid, the arrangement is not precise, it’s a very pure track and a great example of disorder and freedom.’
Enrico Sangiuliano ‘Order in Chaos’: The title track is a pure techno weapon and dancefloor igniter: rolling, stripped, euphoric. A shape-shifting lead synth constantly mutates, flirting with disorder until the kick restores gravity. Chaos becomes dancefloor order.
Enrico Sangiuliano & Vito Gatto ‘Dissolution’: The closing moment. Strings and drums dissolve into a weightless drone. Beatless and infinite, it invites surrender into space. ‘This cinematic track slowly melts ‘Order in Chaos’, adding processed organic sounds and field recordings from the mountains.. coming back to nature, and silence.’ (Gatto).

Still #0 to go in the NINETOZERO countdown… And then what? With Sangiuliano, it’ll be something unexpected and brilliantly innovative.

LIMITED 300 ONLY TRANSPARENT SKY BLUE LP. HOUSED IN FULL COLOUR SLEEVE WITH POLYLINED INNER BAG & DOWNLOAD CODE
Two fields of existence collide as Nolla (Finnish psych/space rockers) & Mike Vest (Maximalist guitar guru, Bong, Blown Out, Drunk In Hell, Artifacts & Uranium, Modoki, Tomoyuki Trio, Mienakunaru etc) merge their creative visions for the third time.

Creating a steady and surreal exploration through astral planes. Nolla improvised the ground layer in their signature minimal space-rock style and MikeV wrapped everything up in lavish layers of fuzz, phased and U-Wah layered guitars.
Blending octaval tones, around an array of electronics & vocal harmonies. Resulting in a constant trance like psychedelic drone rock.
It's time to join the extraterrestrial communion, beyond the skies, convert into the mode of light and pay homage to his mighty eminence.

Leviathan Whispers is an album of longings, laments, deliriums and drones, savage and sublime. Within are breaths, hums and bone songs for shadows and fl ames to dance to. Tim Hill is an inspirational fi gure within the UK arts, jazz, noise and improv world. A shapeshifting maverick exploring Britain's diverse musical traditions, from rough music to industrial folk, free jazz to dub, post-punk to avant-rock, incorporating ambient electronics, hymns and noise. Having worked with pioneering arts company Welfare State International, Tim’s performed inside Stonehenge, on the back of trucks at Notting Hill Carnival, leading giants through the streets of London, Dublin and Galway, at Olympic Torch events, celebratory feasts and leading humanist funerals. Tim is also festival director for The Sound of the Streets, a charity promoting outdoor music and musical director of the Wye Valley River Festival where he helps street bands across the country including The Big Noise in Taunton and Horns of Plenty in Oxford.

Leviathan Whispers is a spectral, contemplative selection of Tim's recorded work, including material created for art installations, outdoor projects, solo performances and personal meditations. Inspired by landscape and the eternal pull of Blake's Albion, baritone, alto and soprano saxophones are mixed with tape loops, old synths, recycled live recordings, woodwinds and reeds. Other sounds are processed by Colin Potter (Nurse With Wound) and drone artist Jonathan Coleclough. The album artwork and accompanying videos feature sound sculptures by Michael Fairfax (Royal Society of Sculptors) alongside unsettling visuals by fi lm-maker and junk-alchemist David Young. "an amazing player - there's a weight to his music with a wonderfully dark edge" Corey Mwamba / BBC Radio 3 Fans of Colin Stetson, John Surman, Anna Von Hausswolff , William Basinski and La Monte Young will fi nd much to savour on this new 12" LP. LAUNCH PARTY: we're holding a special launch event with a live performance and talk by Tim Hill on Saturday, 15th November inside a beautiful Victorian chapel beneath Royal Berks Hospital, Reading.

DarkSonicTales is a project by Rolf Gisler and his eponymous album his first for Hallow Ground. Having been granted an artist residency by the label in a 300 year-old farm house in the Swiss countryside in autumn 2019, the Lucerne-based musician and sound artist explored the peculiar sonic environment of the building and its surroundings through the use of field recordings, modular synthesizers, guitar, bass, kalimbas, a singing saw as well as self-built instruments. "DarkSonicTales" starts with kalimba sounds and field recordings, setting the stage for "Sonic Darkness"- a self-referential spoken word piece whose sinister jazz-like sound calls to mind Bohren & der Club of Gore. The following "Spring Feelings" contrasts insect sounds with harsh noise elements, elegiac drones and a throbbing rhythm. It's not quite what you'd expect from a piece with such a title, but the stories that Gisler tells throughout the record are more concerned with uncovering the hidden histories underneath what meets the eyes than (re-)creating idylls. The nine minute-long "I Still Believe" further underlines that by bringing together glistening synthesizer notes with industrial-like drones and field recordings that give it a palpable effect before Gisler unexpectedly changes course and quite literally bursts into song. Towards the end of "DarkSonicTales," the music becomes notably more minimalistic. Gisler experiments with the dynamics of modular drones on "Kind of Restless," juxtaposing birdsong and ominous electronic noises on "Best Buddies" before a mid-tempo beat emerges, making the record close on a decidedly hopeful note. These dark sonic tales, they have a happy ending. "DarkSonicTales" is an organic album in more than one sense of the word. Reacting to and reflecting the world around him as well as expressing his inner one, Gisler gives the sounds at the core of his multifaceted compositions space and lets them breathe. Working along stark contrasts and with surprising twists, he also shines a light on the atmospheric and emotional ambiguity of the world he encountered during his solitary artist residency-unearthing the hidden layers underneath what is perceivable.

Léo Dupleix return to Black Truffle with Round Sky, following the enchanting Resonant Trees (BT119). The composer here performs on analogue synthesizer, harpsichord and spinet as one member of Asterales, a group that brings together four important figures in the international community of musicians working with just intonation: Dupleix, Jon Heilbron (double bass), Rebecca Lane (quarter-tone flute) and Frederik Rasten (guitars). The quartet perform three recent pieces by Dupleix, each of which is like a different view on the same landscape of unruffled calm, where the unique harmonic events made possible by just intonation flicker across melodies and harmonies like light on the surface of water.

The first side is dedicated to ‘Poème d’air’, composed while Dupleix was immersed in the music of 14thcentury ars nova composer-poet Guillaume de Machaut. A sustained study of the ‘sonic possibilities of low-pitched sounds in just intonation’, it begins with a long, rumbling pitch from Heilbron’s bass, soon joined by the organ-like tones of the composer on synthesizer. The piece is made up of cycling sequences of chords, each of which is repeated for several minutes before the music either freezes on a single harmony or silently pauses before the next episode begins. These structures are initially dominated by the bass and synthesizer, with Lane’s pure vibrato-less flute tone and Rasten picked harmonics adding flashes of colour. As the piece develops, flute and guitar become more prominent and the bass climbs to higher registers. The development culminates in a stunning episode around fifteen minutes in where the texture thins out, casting a spotlight on a melodic figure exploiting the uncanny sound of Lane’s quarter-tone flute.

On the second side we are treated to two briefer pieces, closer to the sound of Resonant Trees as they return harpsichord and spinet to the foreground. ‘Ghosts’ centres on a harpsichord melody that slowly expands as it repeats, growing from a haunting six-note cell to a flowing succession of notes whose shape become increasingly difficult to perceive. Alongside this melodic development, an increasingly lush accompaniment grows, with long tones from bass, flute, e-bowed guitar and synthesizer holding notes picked out the harpsichord melody in a swaying harmonic cloud. Dupleix notes that the concluding ‘Round Sky’ was written in the countryside in spring, a circumstance that seems far from irrelevant to the impression the piece makes when its euphonous spinet arpeggios emerge from a gentle synthesizer drone like a flower from a bud. Performed as a duo with Rasten, with both instrumentalists also singing, this title piece exemplifies what makes Dupleix’s music so unique: grounded in a rigorous application of just intonation principles yet as open as Harold Budd or Andrew Chalk to an uncomplicated, intuitive experience of beauty.