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ULURU is a large sandstone rock formation in Australia. It's sacred to the Anangu, the local Indigenous of the area. For many years it had been deprived of its spiritual significance, due to mass tourism, capitalism, as well as greedy and selfishness of people who just want to make money out of it. However, as a result of the Anangu’s resilience, care and staunchness, huge changes took place in the national park around Uluru as well as in the broader public's consciousness, giving again to the Uluru the sacred identity that had been lost.

You might be reading and thinking now: so what's the point? Actually, there's no real point. I would rather say, there’s hope. The hope of seeing humans all around the world following the example of the Anangu. The hope of seeing humans finally stopping to treat the earth and all what’s part of it, what’s on and what’s in it, as a slave without soul. The hope of changing today, and if not today at latest by tomorrow. This system is failing. It's no longer sustainable, and there's no much time left. So everybody, don't sleep, be critical.

ULURU is a large sandstone rock formation in Australia. It's sacred to the Anangu, the local Indigenous of the area. For many years it had been deprived of its spiritual significance, due to mass tourism, capitalism, as well as greedy and selfishness of people who just want to make money out of it. However, as a result of the Anangu’s resilience, care and staunchness, huge changes took place in the national park around Uluru as well as in the broader public's consciousness, giving again to the Uluru the sacred identity that had been lost.

You might be reading and thinking now: so what's the point? Actually, there's no real point. I would rather say, there’s hope. The hope of seeing humans all around the world following the example of the Anangu. The hope of seeing humans finally stopping to treat the earth and all what’s part of it, what’s on and what’s in it, as a slave without soul. The hope of changing today, and if not today at latest by tomorrow. This system is failing. It's no longer sustainable, and there's no much time left. So everybody, don't sleep, be critical.

Marking more than three decades of one of the most influential albums of all time, five-time GRAMMY® Award-winning band Green Day releases a new colored vinyl. Dookie’s influence remains downright inescapable. It has sold a staggering 20 million copies worldwide and stands out as "the first punk album to be certified Diamond by the RIAA for North American sales in excess of 10 million.” Out of four 1995 GRAMMY® Award nominations, it notably garnered “Best Alternative Album.”Rolling Stone touted it on the “500 Greatest Albums of AllTime” and Pitchfork retrospectively christened it “one of the greatest teenage wasteland albums of any generation.” The Daily Beast remarked on “How Green Day’s Dookie Defined the 1990s and Changed Music Forever.”Speaking to its sustained impact, it has generated billions of streams to date. To put it in perspective, Dookie has lived through five presidential administrations, Y2K, social media, a global pandemic, and the birth of countless acolytes.

Harmony marches eastward with its 21st EP, reconnecting with its roots through a collaboration with Kohra and Monophonik. While firmly grounded in the label’s deep-techno foundations, this release leans into a sharper focus on functional, dance oriented grooves and basslines.

A-side is opening with weight and intent, shedding the EP’s melancholic hues for something darker and more forceful. The gently broken spirit of “Uyire” follows, gliding between drones and gated vocals, stitched together by tactile percussion and an underlying volatility.

“Wavefolding Dreams” lives up to its name—wickedly modulated waveforms rise from a slapping bassline that pour like upside-down rain, finally dissolving into soothing, dreamy pads.

“Eastern Timbers” starts B-side with a deep, driving momentum. Trancey basslines and swinging arpeggios ebb and flow with tidal pads, wrapping the EP in a hypnotic finish that pulses with forward energy.

Decompress with “Neuroresonance” situated on the inner ring of the B-side. Suspenseful sliding drones in a wide stereo field and a sustained chord that breathes nostalgia, covered by a playful filter in motion.

Decades on, the time has come for Island Issues, in collaboration with Onis, to proudly dust off a selection of César de Melero & Mr. Claude’s productions that have shaped the highs of countless nights.
Side A opens with D.O.D.’s “1, 2, 3, 4”, a trusted tool for DJs worldwide since 1997. While the elusive “De Pompidou’s Mix”, previously only available on the Sónar ’99 CD compilation, makes its first appearance on vinyl, revealing a deeper, late-night dimension. On the flip, D.D.D.’s “Moovin’ (Bisexual Mix)” channels pure 1996 rave energy, turning the core sample shared with the A-side into a raw and infectious groove. Closing the record, “The Struggle” weaves a James Baldwin speech into layers of warm, old-school deepness, sustaining tension and purpose until the very last bar.
Dedicated to Pro-Zak Trax founder Alex Lamarque.

When NYC-based experimental dance punks Guerilla Toss, active since 2011, were in Vermont recording their new full-length album You're Weird Now, frontwoman Kassie Carlson would prepare what she called 'punk lunch': a communal meal made by raiding the studio fridge for whatever was left and assembling a sandwich from the most random ingredients imaginable. Regularly joining punk lunch were two legends from their own corners of the weird music world: Stephen Malkmus (Pavement, The Jicks) and Trey Anastasio, Phish guitarist and owner of The Barn; the recording studio where Guerilla Toss were making You're Weird Now, with Malkmus in the producer's seat. Engineer Bryce Goggin, who has worked with Malkmus since Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, and Ben Collette, Phish's longtime engineer at The Barn, were also part of the crew. While the idea of the guy from Phish and the guy from Pavement sitting around with Guerilla Toss, congenially assembling sandwiches from random foodstuffs dug up from the depths of a studio fridge, might seem absurd, it also makes total sense. Because really, if there's any band that serves as the natural bridge between slacker punks who saw Pavement way before you did, wild-eyed wooks who've seen Phish more times than you ever will, and even the eccentrics in '90s drip following former GT tourmates Primus-it's Guerilla Toss. A band so imaginative and unapologetically themselves, they're basically the real-life manifestation of a utopian, post-snob world where all musical ideas are worthy of expression and everyone is welcome. You're Weird Now powers this message. Guerilla Toss' fifth album and second for Sub Pop is a hugely creative and joyful statement about the joy of creativity. With You're Weird Now Guerilla Toss reclaim the word "weird" for everyone brave enough to let their freak flag fly and stay true to their artistic vision no matter what-a way riskier act than it's ever given credit for, and one that requires a certain amount of serene self-confidence that it takes time and effort to cultivate and sustain. And they do so with the enthusiastic support of their musical predecessors: a standout moment arrives with "Red Flag to Angry Bull," which builds to a campfire sing-along-worthy outro featuring Malkmus and Carlson duetting over a chatty, classically Phish-y (there's really no better word for it) solo from Anastasio. The band hopes the message of You're Weird Now will resonate not only with music heads but anyone who struggles with feeling weird in a world where it will always be hard to be different. At the end of the day, it's all about the spirit of punk lunch: there's room for everyone because music is for everyone. "Everyone loves and appreciates music," says Carlson. "If you don't like music, you're kind of an asshole." That's not weird-that's just true.

In the spring of 2020, Ben Cook _ a.k.a. Young Governor, Young Guv, or just Guv _ was holed up in the New Mexico high desert, his U.S. tour having been abruptly covid-cancelled during a southwest swing. He and his bandmates were living moment to moment in something called an Earthship, a solar-rigged adobe structure sustainably constructed with, among other things, recycled bottles and tires. And out there in the serene vastness, as a short ride-it-out stint turned into a nine-month sojourn, Ben was writing music, slowly, little by little, mostly at night while the others slept. By the New Year, almost in spite of himself, he had created a new album, two new albums actually, and through the ordeal he was forever changed. In a place he never expected to be, under circumstances no one could have predicted, and in the face of physical isolation, emotional desolation, and existential dread, Ben created GUV III & IV, a collection of songs dedicated and testifying to the eternal healing power of love _ how to find it in the world, in others, and most importantly, in himself.

Marja Ahti is a Swedish artist living in Turku, Finland. She works with found sounds, objects and electronics, creating auditory assemblages that reveal a profound sensitivity to sound’s tactile potential. This new record sees her palette expand to include more recognisable acoustic instrumentation, albeit working in collaboration with musicians who are already reconfiguring how those instruments can sound.

Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth has its roots in a tape piece presented at Lampo in Chicago. Ahti then started working with Isak Hedtjärn (clarinet), Ryan Packard (percussion) and My Hellgren (cello) at the electronic music studios (EMS) in Stockholm. Incorporating recordings from those sessions, Ahti presented a new iteration of the work at the Seventh Edition Festival for Other Music in February 2024 with the trio performing live on stage whilst Ahti helmed the mixing desk, spatialising a specially made tape part through the INA GRM’s Acousmonium speaker orchestra. The piece has since gone through several further iterations before arriving at the version we have here on the LP's B-side where immense bass pressure and high frequency tones buffer restless amplified breath and scrape that folds over itself with extraordinary dynamics and subterranean activity before giving way to gorgeous resonant forms and passages of ritual purpose and sheer, unmistakeable beauty.

The A-side is Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth’s gentle double. Still Life with Poppies, Mirror and Two Clouds offers a companion reconfiguration of Ahti’s resynthesised percussion sustain and the same recordings of Hedtjärn and Hellgren from EMS, but here they’re nestled in a sonic landscape of calm and restraint that gives them a wholly other character. Ahti also draws on older recordings she’d made of Sholto Dobie’s diy pipe organs and uses these to create repeating patterns and flourishes of sliding pitches that emerge unexpected out of cycling passages of Ahti’s clear struck metal, destabilising electronic interventions and minimal piano figures.

Marja Ahti: “I’ve been fascinated with the kind of elemental quality the sounds I'm using have such as airy sounds or earthy, wooden sounds. These qualities can also be found in wind instruments and percussion and the musicians I worked with on Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth are really good at enhancing these qualities in their playing. I wanted to have this connection between found sounds, field recordings, or pre-recorded sounds, objects, and material, and see where these sounds might meet each other, and hopefully blend is a natural way without a divide between instrumental music, or acoustic music, or electronic music. But also, when you bring in people they come with their personalities and their ideas which is also energizing and brings surprising things into the collaboration that I couldn't come up with myself. I was really interested in making this a proper collaboration and not just coming up with the piece and giving it to them. We had the sessions at EMS where we could share ideas and Isak, Ryan and My could bring in their own ideas. Making recordings there gave me time to process these ideas and to also approach them in the same way that I would work with any other sound.”

"Astral Americana hymns hovering somewhere between the dirt and the stars" Pitchfork

"Mood music for moments of solitude, best experienced without distraction" The Times

"Overwhelmingly effective and ravishingly beautiful" The Wire

American Dust is an ode to the beauty of the American Southwest, where vast desert landscapes hold stories both stark and tender. Eve Adams’ characteristic folk noir weaves a vivid tapestry of love, sacrifice and quiet revelation, conjuring images of dust storms, stray dogs and far off trains.

The high desert of California is a vast and confounding place. Equally inspiring as it is punishing, it’s a landscape that carries magic in its deep dark nights, holding stories both tender and stark in the coarse layer of dust that settles upon everything. It’s long been a source of inspiration for musicians, writers, and painters, each of them adding to the same current, carried forward over time, through hope and hardship and the passing years.

Somewhere out there in that broad and boundless landscape, Eve Adams has been living her own desert life, quietly writing the follow-up to 2021’s Metal Bird LP. Where that album sang of liminal space, the dream-like turbulence of Hollywood’s golden age, American Dust is far more rooted in traditional storytelling; a eulogy for the American Dream channeled through that sweeping part of the country that holds such power and mystery. Slipping into different and varied costumes throughout its ten songs, it finds Eve not just observing the people around her but stepping into their shoes and peeling back the layers of their quiet lives.

Adams writes from within. A few years ago she moved out there, to “the middle of nowhere”, finding a slowness that didn’t exist in the city, and she knows only too well about the mystical nature of the land and those who live within it. Weaving together themes of grit and romance, American Dust holds its focus on the bittersweet poetry of lives lived in solitude, most notably the women who sustain life at the center of it all. “There’s something very radical about domestic life,” Adams says of this thread. “So many women live their entire lives behind closed doors, completely in the shadows. Within those lives is such sacrifice, devotion, and love. I wanted to honor that: the poetry in the mundane, the longing in the repetition. The way love survives boredom and dust and time.”

Eve is joined on American Dust by Canadian musician Bryce Cloghesy, aka Military Genius of Crack Cloud, who plays throughout and also helped produce the album. Musically bold and vivid, it’s an ambitious and detailed stride forward from what’s come before, the scope of the LP’s narrative reflected in the radiant sweep of the playing. On top of gentle piano and guitar, gorgeous strings drift through the album, lending the songs a woozy sense of romanticism; a collaboration with Gamaliel Traynor (Cello) and Caroline’s Oliver Hamilton (Violin).

For all the drama that’s coiled around these songs, it’s the recurring notion of love and hope fighting against everything that holds true throughout American Dust. Musically it’s lush and vibrant, intimate and cinematic side by side, and always bursting with warmth. But it’s what it holds in its weary bones that elevates it to something truly special, something more than just a collection of songs penned in the heart of the desert. The characters it speaks of, and from, feel shadowed but wholly real, like they’re bursting to share their stories that have remained hidden for years and years and they allow Eve Adams to grow as a songwriter right in front of our eyes.

“The same swirling dust that clung to the covered wagons of my ancestors as they crossed the Great American Desert is the same dust my great-great-grandmother swept off her porch during the Dust Bowl of 1936 in Oklahoma, is the same dust that blows in through the cracks in my windows here in the desert, carrying stories from a time long gone,” Eve says, reflecting on the personal narrative that runs through her new album.

“It’s not just dust—it’s American Dust, the kind that settles into the bones of a family and never leaves. I think about that dust as a symbol of the passage of time. I hope this album will be part of that same current, carrying forward for the next generations of my family to find. I’ve been lucky enough to have journals and poetry from my ancestors that documents their lives during times of pure hope and pure hardship. I’d like to think of this album as a contribution to that family history.”

ULURU is a large sandstone rock formation in Australia. It's sacred to the Anangu, the local Indigenous of the area. For many years it had been deprived of its spiritual significance, due to mass tourism, capitalism, as well as greedy and selfishness of people who just want to make money out of it. However, as a result of the Anangu’s resilience, care and staunchness, huge changes took place in the national park around Uluru as well as in the broader public's consciousness, giving again to the Uluru the sacred identity that had been lost.
You might be reading and thinking now: so what's the point? Actually, there's no real point. I would rather say, there’s hope. The hope of seeing humans all around the world following the example of the Anangu. The hope of seeing humans finally stopping to treat the earth and all what’s part of it, what’s on and what’s in it, as a slave without soul. The hope of changing today, and if not today at latest by tomorrow. This system is failing. It's no longer sustainable, and there's no much time left. So everybody, don't sleep, be critical.

ULURU is a large sandstone rock formation in Australia. It's sacred to the Anangu, the local Indigenous of the area. For many years it had been deprived of its spiritual significance, due to mass tourism, capitalism, as well as greedy and selfishness of people who just want to make money out of it. However, as a result of the Anangu’s resilience, care and staunchness, huge changes took place in the national park around Uluru as well as in the broader public's consciousness, giving again to the Uluru the sacred identity that had been lost.
You might be reading and thinking now: so what's the point? Actually, there's no real point. I would rather say, there’s hope. The hope of seeing humans all around the world following the example of the Anangu. The hope of seeing humans finally stopping to treat the earth and all what’s part of it, what’s on and what’s in it, as a slave without soul. The hope of changing today, and if not today at latest by tomorrow. This system is failing. It's no longer sustainable, and there's no much time left. So everybody, don't sleep, be critical.

Leeds-based noise-rock band Thank drops their second EP Please. Coming out as a joint venture between Buzzhowl Records and Belgium's EXAG, Please is the follow-upto the group's debut EP, 2017's Sexghost Hellscape. While the tension in Please could be too much for some bands to hold, Thank sustainit expertly across the four tracks here. This is thanks in part to superbly-balanced production by Rob Slater and Jamie Lockhart (Greenmount Studios) as well as a meaty mastering job from Declared Sound's Dominic Clare. Furthermore, vocalist Freddy Vinehill-Cliffe (Beige Palace) acts as a lightning rod for both elements of Thank's sound. Vinehill-Cliffe's lyrics tackle by turns Catholic guilt, deaths in the family, his experiences in therapy, sex, loyalty and betrayal. Whatever the subject matter, every syllable of Please is delivered in a selfflagellatingyelp that is equal-parts Xiu Xiuand post-Nite Flights Scott Walker. Such a tragi-comic performance is the perfect focalpoint for Thank's harsh, powerful Please. "A brutally deranged band that mixes krautrock and experimental electronic music into their caterwauling punk, reforming noise rock with robotic grooves and manipulatedsynths." - Post Trash "Thank trade in groovily abrasive riffs, burbling synths, disco-punk drum patterns and high level ranter vocals." - The Quietus

2024 Repress

Double Vinyl on 140g includes DLC, gatefold sleeve, printed inners. Following the reissue of ‘Hex’ in late 2017, Fire Records reissue Bark Psychosis’ second studio album ‘///Codename:Dustsucker’ (2004) “which finds the band in remarkable form” (Pitchfork). Arriving ten years after the band disbanded, the long-awaited and criminally overlooked follow up brings with it an evolution of their sound. Their experimentations are layered with blissed out electronics, shoegaze, post-rock and jazz are still at its fore as are Sutton’s crystalline vocals. Languid and brooding, the soundscapes are dark and sustained while their “trademark cocoon of limpid, rippling guitar figures and jazzy adornment is buffeted by sharp leftward turns” (Uncut). Recorded in Graham Sutton’s East London DustSuckerSound studio between 1999 and 2004, it features contributions from Talk Talk sticksman Lee Harris and ‘found drumming’ from ex-band member Mark Simnett. Bark Psychosis’

Maggot Mass, the fifth full-length album by Pharmakon on Sacred Bones Records, marks the project's return after a five-year hiatus. This album signifies a departure from the original rules and structures established by Margaret Chardiet for Pharmakon, evolving into a new form. It retains the project's experimental roots in power electronics and noise while incorporating industrial and punk influences. The album stems from a profound disgust with humanity's dysfunctional relationship with the environment and other life forms. It explores the loneliness resulting from this broken bond and challenges us to acknowledge our personal and systemic responsibility. What peace can we make with privilege when the true cost of our comfort is not measured in dollars but in death? How can we reconcile with death when we impose the same hierarchical structures on it that we do in life? Is life worth living in the isolation of this self-imposed species loneliness? Humans often measure worth by accumulation _ money, assets, objects _ mistaking this for power and influence. Western heritage dictates a hierarchy, placing humans at the top, separate from the natural world. This delusion turns bodies into objects, land into property, and people into expendable tools. If our value were instead determined by our contribution to the ecosystem, who could claim that a human is more valuable than a maggot? Maggots recycle death into life, breaking down matter and nourishing new growth. They transform into flies, pollinating plants and sustaining the Earth's flora. In contrast, humans pollute rather than pollinate, with a select few profiting from exploitation at the expense of biodiversity and the well-being of many. In grappling with grief and loss on both personal and global scales, Margaret sought solace in the idea of rebirth through death, celebrating the beauty of regeneration through decay. However, she had to confront the stark reality of the disconnection from the earth under oppressive systems. Pharmakon is here imagining a path where the final act is to give back what was received from creation, offering our lives and deaths to sustain existence. once I slough off this human skin I will find my home and ancestral kin_ in the coffin-birth of my cadaver's ecosystem

The discovery of Doris Dennison's score represents a genuine musicological breakthrough—what once would have been "a tree falling in the woods" thirty years ago now holds the potential to render "a thunderous clap in our minds." While researching Anna Halprin's lesser-known collaborators, scholar Tom Welsh uncovered the archives of AA Leath, one of Halprin's principal dancers. Buried within these materials was Dennison's handwritten score for Earth Interval, dated May 1956. Born in Saskatchewan, Canada, in 1908, and raised near Seattle, Dennison (1908-2009) encountered John Cage while teaching Dalcroze eurythmics at the Cornish College of the Arts. She joined Cage's earliest percussion quartet—alongside Margaret Jansen, the composer and his wife Xenia—in the group widely regarded as having performed the first complete concert of percussion music in the United States. This historic December 1938 concert was followed by tours and the landmark May 1941 performance at the California Club, comprising Cage and Lou Harrison's Double Music, the premiere of Cage's Third Construction, and Harrison's 13th Simfony.

As Bradford Bailey observes in his extensive liner notes, Earth Interval demonstrates "an extraordinary balance of elements that imbues the piece with a sense of clarity, directness, and constraint that is both distinct and ahead of its time." The work's most remarkable innovation lies in its approach to extended techniques, particularly Dennison's notation for the central movement: "In 2nd movement, 1st player lowers + raises a gong into a tub of water while beating." This technique, absorbed from Cage's experimental vocabulary, generates what Bailey describes as "fields of acoustic abstraction that bend and warp time through sustained resonances, beat, and space." The temporal sophistication of these manipulations anticipated Karlheinz Stockhausen's Mikrophonie I (1964) and Annea Lockwood's water-based sound investigations by over a decade. After joining Mills College as dance accompanist, Dennison maintained crucial connections to the Bay Area's experimental scene, collaborating with figures like Merce Cunningham and programming Cage's music throughout the 1950s.

Comprising three movements—Land Form, Air Tide, and Earth Play—Earth Interval is scored for recorder, drums, gongs, maracas, muted gongs, and bowl gongs. In total, the piece is just under eight minutes: "a fleeting glimmer of moment in time, a life spent at the cutting edge, and a singular creative vision that packs a powerful punch." When viewed in historical context, placed in contrast to roughly contemporaneous avant-garde percussion works by Cage, Harrison, Louis Thomas Hardin (Moondog), and Harry Partch, or important precursors like Edgard Varèse's Ionisation (1931) and Henry Cowell's Ostinato Pianissimo (1934), it's clear that Dennison was following her own path. Earth Interval is not derivative. It is a precursor to what was yet to come, alluding to developments of avant-garde and experimental music that wouldn't begin to appear on the cultural landscape until the 1970s and '80s, with the emergence of Post-Minimalism and more idiosyncratic artists and ensembles like Midori Takada, Ros Bandt, Peter Giger, Frank Perry, Christopher Tree, Michael Ranta, Gamelan Son of Lion, and Niagara.

This recording by Chicago's Third Coast Percussion, captured in March 2022, represents the first complete documentation of this pioneering work. The ensemble's interpretation reveals the piece's remarkable contemporaneity while maintaining its historical specificity. Where Cage, Harrison, and Partch employed "self-consciously off-kilter polyrhythms," Dennison's rhythmic sensibility anticipates minimalist developments by nearly a decade, yet integrates "forceful rests, as well as sharp shifts in sonic character, tempo, and meter, that break the momentum and breathe a sense of life into the piece's structure." This positions her work closer to Post-Minimalism decades before its emergence. The architectural approach demonstrates Dennison's understanding that "the composer almost entirely disappears" in favor of phenomenological listening experience, creating what might be called an egoless music that places its realities and meaning entirely in the ear of the beholder. The present recording, realized by Chicago's distinguished Third Coast Percussion ensemble, represents a significant achievement in experimental music scholarship and performance practice. As specialists in the Cage tradition and contemporary percussion repertoire, Third Coast Percussion approached Earth Interval with the historical sensitivity and technical precision required to illuminate Dennison's subtle compositional innovations. The March 2022 recording sessions, engineered by Colin Campbell, capture both the work's intimate chamber music qualities and its bold exploration of extended techniques. The ensemble's interpretation reveals the piece's remarkable contemporaneity—its ability to speak directly to current musical concerns while maintaining its historical specificity.

This recording serves multiple scholarly functions: it provides the first complete documentation of Dennison's compositional voice, offers insight into the broader network of experimental music practitioners surrounding Cage and Harrison, and demonstrates the sophisticated level of compositional thinking that was occurring within the Bay Area's dance-music collaborations of the 1950s. The work's emphasis on phenomenological listening—what might be called an "egoless" approach to musical experience—places it within a lineage of American experimental music that prioritizes perceptual process over compositional personality. The work's original obscurity—limited to AA Leath's performances at venues like the 1957 Pacific Coast Arts Festival at Reed College—paradoxically allowed it to remain "entirely on its own terms," free from the constraints of historical categorization. Drawing on Jacques Derrida's Archive Fever, the argument emerges that "the archive can acknowledge, celebrate, and resurrect" overlooked voices, transforming our understanding of experimental music history. The present Blume edition, featuring Third Coast Percussion's authoritative interpretation, includes a lavishly illustrated 16-page booklet designed by Bruno Stucchi / dinamomilano, containing complete scholarly apparatus, historical photographs, and detailed production notes. This recording enables "cross-temporal intersectionality," allowing Dennison to "belong to a newly formed and more dynamic understanding of the present and past," demonstrating how forgotten voices can reshape entire historical narratives when given proper scholarly attention and performance advocacy.

An F-bomb saturated hip-hop call & response club cut...from Sun Ra?!

While the most renown track in this omniversal opus is the atomic expletive-filled repartee “Nuclear War,” there is so much more to this dark mysterious journey through the mind of Sun Ra. The sprawling, suite-like 20-minute title track sustains a lyrical edge in spite of an open framework and textures, which encourage sonorities to surface and emerge from the band as if there was no human intention behind them. In opposition to “Nuclear War,” Ra's organ playing here was built less on bombast and sonic terror than it is on whispers, stutters, shivers, and swells. Fireside Chat offers a wide stylistic array, as was the artist’s intent, reflecting his eclectic, seemingly irreconcilable approach to compositional extremes. With Sun Ra you get everything... except predictability. Pressed on lime green vinyl!

US veteran JT Donaldson makes the sort of killer tech house that immediately makes you want to move. This time out the Dallas, Texas resident lands on Dolfin Records with a deeper sound that is raw and heavy. 'Choose' rides on knackered-sounding kick with just deft synth smears for company. 'Don't Sweat' has a double-time rhythm with sombre chords adding the soul and 'Want Her Around' gets the hips swinging with its lovely claps, muted, softly glowing sustained synths and lumpy deep house drums. Flipping the script yet again. 'Sunday Drive' is a more nimble and jazzy dancer and 'Take 2' is a sunny house sound with hints of Metro Area nu-disco synth magic and a big fat bassline.

"Wind, Again" is Sary Moussa’s fourth studio album and second album on Other People. Based between France and Lebanon, Moussa returns with a riveting electro-acoustic album informed by his ever-changing relationships to space, listening, and resonance as well as his growing interest in the study of harmonics in electronic and electro-acoustic music.

Years in the making, “Wind, Again” approaches distinct musical worlds and languages by bringing together improvisations by musicians performing on Western and West Asian instruments such as the Hammond organ, clarinet, saz, and buzuk with electronic arrangements and textures. Rather than force a rapprochement of these musical worlds through the instruments, and keenly aware of the weighty sonic histories they carry, Moussa proposes another way through which they can exist together in contemporary electronic composition.

Composed of six tracks, each of which demonstrate an array of recording and processing techniques, the album generates moments of tension produced by the synthesis of textural, tonal, and harmonic encounters that Moussa calls “shadows”, which outline an impressionistic musical language, existing at the edge of familiarity. Such moments permeate tracks like “Everywhere at once” and “Violence” that open with the Hammond organ and the saz respectively and slowly reveal an expansive field of sounds that showcases each of the musicians’ characteristic performances and Moussa’s densely layered textures. It is a latent yet unrelenting tension through which the composer invokes rather than represents a collective experiential state, especially familiar to those who know his environment. In “Wind, Again” these shadows are articulations of sounds steeped in traditions they are never quite tethered to. Such articulations are implied and alluded to, they play within a musical reference without the latter explicitly existing in the recording, always teetering, never completely here nor there.
Sonically and musically, the album is fueled by the cultural, social, and personal realities that Moussa was brought up and lives in.

Both personal and musical ties with the musicians who feature on the album is central to Moussa’s practice. In the title track “I will never write a song about you”, musician Julia Sabra opens with rolled piano chords, followed by Paed Conca on clarinet and Abed Kobeissy on buzuk, before Moussa’s electronic processing pieces together, lifts, and sustains the melodic direction of the track that emerged from the musicians’ separate improvisations. For Moussa: “The initial connection between the three performances was made on a track that no longer existed, the original recording was both an obstacle and necessary step for the track we hear on the record. It’s as if we were all telling different stories and I pulled on the thread that held them together”. The track, and more generally the record, is tinged with a melancholy of things lost, though it never fully succumbs to it.
“Everything inside a circle”, Moussa’s most personal track and for which he provides the only vocals on the record, harkens back to a childhood memory of listening to music with his mother in a car: “There was a sound I was looking for — a memory of a sound and how I first heard it. This track is a hybrid of that memory and what I wanted to make of it”. The track relies heavily on generativesystems and perhaps embodies most the ambiguous quality of the record’s music in its refusal to be pinned down by one musical tradition or another.
“Wind, Again” is both familiar and alien, cold and warm; it pays homage to the mechanics, materials, and tactility of the instruments and converges acoustic and synthetic spaces. What anchors the sound of the album are the elements of a whole that cannot find its own idiosyncrasy and that is precisely why Moussa’s album is a tour de force.

"PEOPLE" (original release year : 1988)
Hothouse Flowers' debut album People (1988) was a remarkable fusion of rock, folk, and soulful blues, spearheaded by the charismatic vocals of Liam Ó Maonlaí. The album was anchored by the hit single 'Don't Go', which propelled the band to international recognition.

With rich instrumentation and passionate performances, People stood out for its refreshing blend of Irish musical roots with contemporary rock influences.

The album was the fastest-selling debut in Irish history at the time. It topped the Irish Albums Chart and peaked at No. 2 on the UK Albums Chart, while also making significant impact in the U.S. and other markets. People was certified Platinum in the UK and Double Platinum in Ireland. Backed by strong singles like 'I'm Sorry' and 'Feet on the Ground,' the album sustained impressive momentum, further fuelled by the band's dynamic live performances.

People solidified Hothouse Flowers as one of the most exciting Irish bands of the late '80s, demonstrating the band's ability to bridge genres while delivering powerful, heartfelt music.

For 2025 Hothouse Flowers celebrate both People and its follow up album Home with a UK national tour revisiting both albums in full.

London Records celebrate the tour with represses of People and Home on vinyl, with restored artwork faithful to the original editions.

"HOME" (Original Release year : 1990)

Hothouse Flowers' sophomore album, Home, released in 1990, built on the success of their debut People while showcasing a more mature and introspective sound while maintaining their signature heartfelt, genre-blending approach to music. The album continued their signature fusion of rock, folk, gospel, and blues, its tracks demonstrating both introspection and a vibrant energy.

Home reached No. 1 on the Irish Albums Chart and peaked at No. 5 in the UK. The album was certified Gold in the UK and Platinum in Ireland, reaffirming the band's status as one of Ireland's most successful exports at the time. Lead single 'Give It Up' became a fan favourite, while the band's cover of Johnny Nash's 'I Can See Clearly Now' broadened their appeal, a Top 5 in Ireland and chart hit in UK and Australia.

The band's relentless touring and powerful live shows helped sustain Home's international momentum and commercial success. For 2025 Hothouse Flowers celebrate both Home and its predecessor People with a UK national tour revisiting both albums in full.

London Records celebrate the tour with represses of People and Home on vinyl, with restored artwork faithful to the original editions.

Preeminent cellist / composer Oliver Coates follows his scores for
‘Aftersun’ and ‘Foe’ with a stately string and electronic orchestration for Tudor and Stuart-era period drama ‘Mary & George’. Coate’s score draws on his roots in classical, electronic and club music to accompany an adaptation of the non-fiction book ‘The King’s Assassin’ by Benjamin Woolley, which outlines the romantic affair between King James VI and I and George Villiers, 1st Duke of Buckingham.
The score sees Coates reaching for a suitably lavish palette of strings, from symphonic to puckered chamber arrangements, sometimes underlined with Burial-esque beats and choral pads, as in ‘France’, or alloying the two in a way recalling Nicholas Britell’s ‘Succession’ soundtrack. There’s enough harpsichord to make the ruffed-necks swoon, and Coates takes the license to distort sounds to taste when necessary, resulting a clear highpoint in his work, both solo and for film

Pain Management welcomes London cult favourite DJ ojo, who arrives on the label with a hazy three tracker of trademark nether zone system music. On his most dubbed out full length to date, ojo span’s the full emotive spectrum of dub sonics with a range of both the eerie and more tender expansions of low end atmospherics, the resulting 12” equally suited for the club and the journey home alike.

‘Tongue Tied’ opens the record, a lysergic offering from the darker edges of dub music. A slippery fugue-state hit of narco-ambience built around a crooning, intelligible vocal refrain and chest shot sub weight. A real nightfall system pusher built to simmer in the early hours. It kicks off the EP on an amorphous, hypnotic note that sustains throughout.‘Oil Dub’ sinks deeper into the fog, melodic kinesis and expansive delays upholding an underworld of feedbacked percussion and tongue in cheek sub motion; a seven minute sound bath of ambiguous dub ASMR.

The B-side balances out the darker strains found on its counterpart with an overtly tender digidub closer. Clocking in at almost ten minutes long ‘Cloud Suck’ is a nebulous bliss of perpetually ascending late-summer warmth. The kind of liminal dream-state embrace that you wish would never end. True to the name, it evokes tender, dusk and dawn hued moments, a quiet ride-home flash of introspection on the way to or from some pursuit of meaning. Pain Management essential right here.

Limited run of 200 hand-stamped 12” records available now.

Recorded in the summer of 1978 in Manhattan's C. I. Recording Studio this rare encounter of jazz's supreme instrumentalists and individualists Walt Dickerson (1928 - 2008) and Sun Ra (1914 - 1993) became an instant cult album among the followers of Avant Garde jazz of the '70s.

The author of the newly added liner notes Neil Tesser remarks, "Nearly a half-century after the fact, Visions now stands as a milestone of free improvisation". Almost half a century ago Trevor Tolley of Canadian jazz publication Coda enthused, "This is a tremendous record...outstanding collaborations throughout this beautiful record, as well as some gloriously sustained solo passages...it is the work of two masters in the full certainty of their powers."

Sun Ra: piano
Walt Dickerson: vibraphone
Recorded July 11, 1978

In Marking A Boundary With The Turning Point, Ard Bit and Radboud Mens explore the tension between stasis and movement. Operating within the realm of drone and electroacoustic music, they construct a sonic landscape where sustained tones and microscopic events constantly shape and reshape each other. What initially appears static reveals itself to be rich with detail: tiny acoustic shifts breathe life into apparent stillness, inviting focused and attentive listening. The album emerged from a process where sound research, improvisation, and sound design merge. Self-built instruments, the search for timbre and texture, and recordings of the learning process itself form the foundation of these compositions. Rather than following a traditional musical structure, the result is a sonic field in which the minimal continually transforms, depending on the listener's perspective. Ard Bit (Ard Janssen) is a composer, sound artist, and field recordist based in Rotterdam, trained at the Institute of Sonology in The Hague. His work moves between improvisation and system-based composition, exploring the space between ambient, drone, and sound art. Radboud Mens is a sound artist with a decades-long practice grounded in minimalism, acoustic subtlety, and physical resonance. His work focuses on the perception of sound, the materiality of audio, and the creation of spatial listening experiences. Together, they present a layered and handcrafted album that doesn't narrate but questions. Marking A Boundary With The Turning Point is not a boundary, it's an invitation to listen beyond expectation.

I must admit to being a sucker for two-guitar bands. Ok, Hendrix pulled off a trio. But I don’t care what anybody says: The Yardbirds were a better band than anything that came out of them (Ok, maybe not Zep. But Cream?).

Maybe the reason I go back so far in my references is that, within the two-guitar band format, original new roles are difficult and rare. There’s the classic (socially problematic and often boring) “rhythm/lead” solution. There’s the JB’s or Nile Rodgers’ chicken pickin’ vs comping solution (which avoids chordal clashes by relegating one of the guitars to the role of single-note percussion instrument). There’s Ornette’s Prime Time division between Bern Nix’s rolled-off “jazz” tone and Charles Ellerbee’s trebly wah. Almost everything else is a variation on one of these.


In Ches Smith’s record Clone Row, each piece is built around a different concept for guitar interaction. The delightful and gifted weirdness of Mary Halvorson’s playing is counterpointed, contrasted, unisoned with, played off, juxtaposed (that is to say, enters every relationship possible) with Liberty Ellman’s equally amazing sound palette, chops, and imagination. This definitely ain’t your father’s guitar band.
The overall vibe of the record—despite Halvorson’s occasional noise outbursts or Ellman’s distorted guitar lines (see Mixed Fridge) is neither punk/funk, nor Zorn-ish metal—and certainly not the looser parameters of Ornette’s improvised harmolodics. Smith’s vibraphone playing, Halvorson’s guitar tone (whammy pedal squiggles aside), the brilliant electronics, and (most of all) the compositions themselves are somehow strangely West Coast cool. It’s as if I’m hearing a Jim Hall concert in which one of us did a lot of mushrooms, or (dare I write this?) some post-punk post-Dave Brubeck post-trip-hop experiment with classical form.

This recording is, most of all, about Ches as composer. He’s picked up a lot on his long, strange trip of the last few decades. The Haitian funkiness of his work with We All Break is audible—but deeply buried, encoded in the polyrhythms (check out Heart Breakthrough). His long-running side musician collaborations with John Zorn and Tim Berne are also evident but sublimated here into something new.

Not that improvising is absent. Check out the compelling collective statements in Sustained Nightmare and Ready Beat. Check out the brilliant interplay and bass soloing on Abrade With Me (a Weather Report for the age of extreme weather?) Nick Dunston is my favorite bassist of the new generation, and he plays brilliantly throughout. And Ches’ drumming here has all the groove, energy, and incredible range that have kept him in demand from Saturday night Vodou services to jazz and new music recording sessions (…the thinking man’s rock barbarian?).
The sus chords in Abrade With Me do build, for a moment, towards a fusion type of climax...but just at the moment I was gritting my teeth in anticipated defense against some horrible synth solo, the drums drop out, and we’re transported to the ambient lounge at the rave, and we suddenly understand we’re in the hands of a composer with the power to transport us just about anywhere.
So, this is a composer’s record most of all; a composer’s record performed by musicians who happen to be great improvisers. Ches Smith builds here on his reputation as a gifted new voice with an important vision, while showcasing some of the most creative musicians of our time.

Three acid techno cuts to suit the situation, especially if the situation is a blacked out warehouse with a strobe where only the pulse of the sound system matters.
The A side: "Tech 97" weaves undulating pads through sustained tension, shadowing the acid riff until it breaks into a hypnotic workout where calculated moments of release command the floor.
The B1 "Manic Mix" pushes boundaries with an urgent buildup of the 303 and metallic high hats, culminating in pure dancefloor abandon - snares and claps cutting through the darkness.
The B2 "Calm Mix" explores deeper territory with dubbed-out vibes. The acid riff maintains its spectral presence against the rhythm, while ethereal chords spiral outward creating an almost nautical motion beneath the surface.

Long, long overdue reissue of this gem from the depths of The Skaters dreamweaving dimension, released as a limited tape through Spencer Clark's Pacific City imprint back in 2008. Comprising a period of extreme and vital activity for both Clark as Monopoly Child Star Searchers and Black Joker and his kindred spirit James Ferraro under his own name - 'Marble Surf' or 'Discovery' - and a myriad of identities like Liquid Metal or Edward Flex, this split finds these intrepid explorers on each side of a scrying mirror.
Conjuring the Angel Snake entity as a vessel for unlocking the unconscious, Ferraro takes up the A-side with hypnotic wooden percussion sustaining queasy tape processed keyboard lines that intertwine amidst a growing haze of hiss. About halfway through the digression an announcer boombox voice cuts up the scenery for a serpentine dance around the discarded remnants of civilisations past and future. Clark's Monopoly Child rides a beaming synth and muffled percussion accents on his trademarked keyboard thrills, all ascending and descending runs brimming on the horizon, not quite here, not quite out of reach, fading out to a galloping murk smeared by hallucinatory flute-like sounds and portamento accents that float in harmonic suspension.
Truly visionary and arresting stuff from these true purveyors of the netherworld, due to be rediscovered in these times of poor half-reassessments of the given past. It was never a dream, it was always a dream.

Legendary New Zealand-born experimental composer and sound art pioneer Annea Lockwood returns to Black Truffle with On Fractured Ground / Skin Resonance, her third release for the label. Having recently celebrated her 85th birthday, Lockwood shows no sign of slowing down in her exploration of new sound sources and collaborations with an ever-growing intergenerational pool of performers – here with Vanessa Tomlinson. Her creative vibrancy is alive as ever on the two recent works presented here, which demonstrate both her engagement with the social dimensions of sound and the deeply reflective, meditative aspect of her art.

On Fractured Ground derives from material recorded with Pedro Rebelo and Georgios Varoutsos for the soundtrack of Maria Fusco and Margaret Salmon’s opera-film, History of the Present (2023). Working together in Belfast, Lockwood, Rebelo and Varoutsos made extensive recordings of the city’s ‘peace lines’, the dozens of walls erected since the beginning of the Troubles in the late 1960s to separate Catholic and Protestant areas of the city. Struck by the immensity of these barriers, ‘the brutal way they sever neighbourhoods’, Lockwood and her collaborators focused not on the sound environment of the city, but on the walls themselves, playing them as gigantic resonant instruments, using their hands and objects such as stones and leaves. Continuing to work in her studio with the material collected for the soundtrack after its completion, Lockwood composed the work presented here, occupying a space somewhere between her own extended-technique percussion music and the Cagean tradition of hyper-amplified small sounds. From deep, gong-like metallic tolling to dry scrapes and uneasy groans, the piece’s sustained attention to single sounds derived from unorthodox sources draws a line all the way back to Lockwood’s classic Glass World (1967-1970). Its spaciousness and delicacy are at odds with the dark historical background of the Troubles, creating a moving listening experience somehow haunted by the shadow of violence and conflict.

Skin Resonance is a collaboration with Australian composer and percussionist Vanessa Tomlinson. Developed through conversations in which the two discussed the idea of ‘sonic attraction’, the piece focuses on Tomlinson’s relationship to the bass drum, reflecting on the complex web of connections embodied in this seemingly simply instrument, which is at once ‘animal, wood, and metal’. Approaching the instrument in a suitably elemental fashion, Tomlinson’s performance strips away conventional technique to explore the resonance and timbral properties of skin, drum, and metal hardware, producing overlapping waves of texture that at times seem closer to wind swishing through leaves or the ocean than anything usually associated with a drum. Emphasising the symbiotic relationship between performer and instrument, Tomlinson’s voice is heard at times, exploring the field of associations and connections the bass drum suggests to her: ‘Maybe the bass drum skin is an ear as well?’

Accompanied by insightful liner notes on both pieces and photographs documenting the recording of On Fractured Ground and a performance of Skin Resonance, this LP is a moving testament to the engagement, generosity, and openness that sustain Annea Lockwood’s work, still finding new directions after more than fifty years of activity.

Mint Green Vinyl. Graham Jonson is drawn to the comforts of melody and noise. How the two conspire in tension, tonally and atonally, stirring up memory and mood. This quality animates the technicolor world of quickly, quickly, the psych-pop project that emanates from Kenton Sound, his basement studio in Portland, Oregon. "Everywhere your eye lands, there's another curio to marvel over," noted Pitchfork's Philip Sherburne when he visited Jonson's recording space for a Rising feature just after the release of his "strikingly original" 2021 debut LP, The Long and Short of It. Since then, Jonson formed a live band, released his Easy Listening EP in 2023, and navigated the up-and-downs of a young musician, the sustainability of tours and relationships. While shaped by personal bouts and fallouts, his highly-anticipated full-length follow-up finds Jonson making music that's universal, open-ended, and rewarding, like great songwriters can do. He set out to make a folk album but couldn't help coloring it in with noise; a confluence of lush instrumentation and unexpected sounds. Ambitious yet intimate, hi-fi yet homespun, the idiosyncratic songs on I Heard That Noise curve around the contours of everyday life with warmth, wit, and dissonance.

After dropping hints for months and following the release of their first single "Sugar in the Tank,” Julien Baker & TORRES are excited to announce the April 18 release of their debut album Send a Prayer My Way. The album has been in the works since the two played their first show together in 2016 and at the end one singer turned to the other and said, “You know, we should make a country album.” This is the origin story, the stuff of legend in the world of country music, and the beginning of a collaboration between two artists already admired for their spare, elegant lyrics as well as the courage to share their struggles with those who love their music. It’s also the beginning of creating a work that, like the most enduring country albums, sustains and inspires, reminding both singer and listener that not one of us is ever totally alone in this world, that music is a steady companion. Julien Baker & TORRES’ Send A Prayer My Way was written and sung in the best of the outlaw tradition - defiant, subversive, working class, and determined to wrestle not only with addiction, regret and bad decisions, but also with oppressive systems of power. Mercifully, this is only the beginning of the stories TORRES and Baker are determined to tell. Because these are also songs about radical empathy and second chances, and third chances, and while there’s plenty of struggle and regret in here, there’s also humor and defiance.

After dropping hints for months and following the release of their first single "Sugar in the Tank,” Julien Baker & TORRES are excited to announce the April 18 release of their debut album Send a Prayer My Way. The album has been in the works since the two played their first show together in 2016 and at the end one singer turned to the other and said, “You know, we should make a country album.” This is the origin story, the stuff of legend in the world of country music, and the beginning of a collaboration between two artists already admired for their spare, elegant lyrics as well as the courage to share their struggles with those who love their music. It’s also the beginning of creating a work that, like the most enduring country albums, sustains and inspires, reminding both singer and listener that not one of us is ever totally alone in this world, that music is a steady companion. Julien Baker & TORRES’ Send A Prayer My Way was written and sung in the best of the outlaw tradition - defiant, subversive, working class, and determined to wrestle not only with addiction, regret and bad decisions, but also with oppressive systems of power. Mercifully, this is only the beginning of the stories TORRES and Baker are determined to tell. Because these are also songs about radical empathy and second chances, and third chances, and while there’s plenty of struggle and regret in here, there’s also humor and defiance.

Audio alchemist Damian Lazarus continues to redefine the boundaries of electronic music with his fifth studio album, ‘Magickal’.

Renowned for his unparalleled ability to craft transformative sonic journeys, Damian Lazarus is a master of rhythm, melody, and vibration—a true pioneer among his generation’s visionary artists. Damian’s broad depth of experience encompasses a variety of disciplines: tastemaker, selector, label owner, A&R and a Grammy-nominated artist in his own right - each informed by his unique ear for sound. He is chief wizard of the hugely influential and culture-defining Crosstown Rebels label, a globally renowned DJ with a penchant for exotic outdoor locations and a highly regarded recording artist with four albums and a plethora of solo cuts, collaborations and remixes in his sprawling discography.

With his fifth album, ‘Magickal’, Damian steps into his next evolutionary phase, combining his newly found sobriety with a more mature outlook while still pushing boundaries and creating unforgettable moments. At the root of it all is the magical power of togetherness and human connection that only music can facilitate. Driven by this core ethos, Damian continues on his mission to share his heartfelt music, taking the dance floor into unexplored realms of experience, facilitating moments of transcendence, bliss and pure, unadulterated magic.

Damian Lazarus, the avant-garde architect of spiritually nourishing sounds, is joined by a stellar lineup of collaborators on his latest excursion. It’s imaginative and mystical, rhythmically captivating and daring in its own way, as is typical of Damian’s approach. Taking consideration of his past, the album references his previous work to create a tapestry of compositions that tap into the energy of key moments from his discography. Drawing on his existing catalogue creates cohesive through lines and thematically serves as a continuation of previous stories. November’s single, ‘Sunrise Generation’, for instance, works as a companion to ‘Vermillion’, which was recorded by Damian with his band The Ancient Moons and vocalist Moses Sumney back in 2015. ‘Sunrise Generation’, featuring the beautiful vocals of Fink, was Damian’s first major release since his Grammy-nominated 2021 collaboration ‘Don’t Be Afraid’ with Diplo and Jungle, and continues to take inspiration from global gatherings at solstice and those moments of collective awe at sunrise.

Indeed, the album’s themes of mental elevation and psychedelic sonic journeys are evident throughout. Damian channels this energy through tracks like the soulful ‘So Low’, featuring the incredible Zoe Kypri, and the luminous ‘Searchin’, with Jem Cooke, whose collaboration with Damian dates back to ‘Flourish’ (2020) and lead single ‘Into The Sun’. Uplifting is the operative word here, as Damian aims straight for our hearts and inner selves, stripping away the layers to take us on a trip inwards, and out into the ether all at once. There’s a clear nod to Damian’s appreciation of amapiano when he teams up with Ghanaian interdisciplinary healer Jojo Abot on ‘Warrior Dance’. Old friend and inspirer Mathew Jonson brings his virtuoso touch to ‘Are You Dreaming?’, while TEED and A-Trak form an awesome alliance for ‘Falling Down’ with its heartrending vocals. ‘Alive’ features the Bloom Twins, and also additional production from acclaimed producer Mark Ralph, who incidentally worked on Damian’s debut album ‘Smoke The Monster Out’ in 2009 and forms another throughline to the past. ‘Alive’ blends pop sensibilities and song structure with Damian’s inimitable sound - and could become one of Damian’s biggest moments to date. ‘La Hija De Juan Simon’ delves into the Latin energy synonymous with vibrancy and self-expression as Damian teams up with acclaimed Spanish flamenco-influenced duo Mëstiza. On a solo tip, he rolls out with the eight-minute-plus soulful funk flex ‘Why Don’t U’.

In a suitably aligned instance of serendipity, the arrival of ‘Magickal’ comes at a pivotal period in Damian’s life, just as it has been with previous album concepts. Albums made and released during big shifts in his life speak to the correlation between growth, personal evolution, creativity, catharsis and sharing that process musically. The last album ‘Flourish’, for instance, was recorded and released in the space of a few months during the first summer of the global pandemic. As a result, there’s a kind of vulnerability in the music, a subtle story that’s being told with emotional touchpoints that will be relevant to anyone listening. The universal human experience and spectrum of emotions are things almost everyone can relate to. With the enhanced clarity of his sobriety, Damian’s compositions embody the uplifting nature of simply being alive, connected and unified in our love for music and one another.

Day Zero, Damian’s iconic annual festival, is intrinsically linked to ‘Magickal’. It’s the setting for his imagination when producing the music, it’s the launchpad for each year’s kaleidoscopic adventures around the world, and this year’s edition will be the backdrop to the release of ‘Magickal’. As the pinnacle of Damian’s annual experiences, Day Zero marks a vital milestone for his artistry, an extension of his inner realm, carefully curated and created for his global family of lovers and dancers to revel in the awe-inspiring beauty of Mother Nature. Central to the ethos of Day Zero is its sustainability practices and deep consideration for the locality within which it is held. Connections with local elders embolden its depth, cultivating a strongly aligned purpose with the ritual, customs and energy of the land and its people.

‘Magickal’ will be released in the same week as Day Zero, tying the two projects together in a neat dovetail. 12 years since it started, Day Zero continues to play a significant role in the music Damian makes, curates and plays. For him, it’s the epitome of his vision: a stunning natural setting, the very best party people from around the world, an unparalleled lineup of friends and family, high production values, eco-centric policies and music from another dimension. With these interdimensional transmissions, Damian channels his inner alchemist, which, in turn, permeates into the vibrational framework of ‘Magickal’.

Never one to adhere to convention, Damian has opted for a disruptive album release. ‘Magickal’ is to be kept under wraps and then announced and released on Crosstown Rebels on 8th January 2025, bypassing the modern trend of prolonged single drops and ‘tombstone’ album releases. ‘Magickal’ is the embodiment of Damian and his intentional, against-the-grain approach and reinforces the album as a complete artistic statement, offering listeners the full cohesive experience from the very beginning. This is a return to the album as the pinnacle moment and not the afterthought. Singles, edits and remixes will follow the ‘Magickal album’ release, and, of course, there will be a world tour to promote the album (including Glastonbury and Coachella) and a chance to present the album in exciting, innovative and unique ways.

Forever dreaming, a sincere student of magic, new and old, social sorcerer, lover of nature and master of musical wizardry, Damian Lazarus is a potent force. With ‘Magickal’, he reaffirms his place as one of electronic music’s most influential figures, taking listeners on a profound journey into sound, spirit, and connection.

Bugge Wesseltoft has long been a shaper of his own jazz idioms, through his diverse solo albums, his group projects such as New Conception of Jazz, OKWorld! and RYMDEN, and collaborations with artists such as Sidsel Endresen, Henning Kraggerud or Henrik Schwarz.

"Am Are" features special constellations of superb musicians that spans both generations and styles, and is an exploration of sonic textures, dynamic contrasts of mood and style, and ranges from sparse arrangements through to complex layers of dubs and loops and improvisational interplay.

The album begins with Bugge alone on "How?" with layers of undulating atmospheric synth, brought into focus by Bugge's piano at the forefront, creating a minimalist miniature that is both emotive and serene. For "Villrein" Bugge is joined by Elias Tafjord on drums, beginning with a santur-like synth figure, floating over ominous formant sci-fi bass synths bubbling and pulsing, and overlaid by phrenetic piano that only stops to lock into the santur figure before relaunching on its own journeys, all underpinned by Elias Tafjord's expressive drumming. "Is Anyone Listening?" demonstrate's Bugge's songcraft, layering muted percussive piano behind Rohey's distinctive and beautiful vocals punctuated by Martin Myhre Olsen's tenor saxophone, creating a soulful mood tinged with desperation.

"BAG" presents the first classic piano trio of the album - Bugge on piano and synths, Arild Andersen on bass, and Gard Nilssen on drums - announcing itself with an insistent riff, chattering drums, breaking into a progressive rock-style passage of bass and piano in unison. "Reel", the second track from this trio, is a mellow soundscape that evolves to become hazy urban downbeat jazz.

The second piano trio of Bugge (Rhodes and Korg MS20 synth), Sveinung Hovensjø (Electric Bass), and Jon Christensen (Drums and Bells) offers a completely different perspective. The first track "Render" features Bugge's Zawinul-esque Rhodes and monosynth leads, Sveinung's fuzz bass in something of a leading role, all carried with chattering gusto by Jon Christensen's dynamic drumming that brings texture and space as well as rhythm to the piece. "Vender" begins as an atmospheric piece, with reed organ-like synth washes, and octave-processed bass with a somewhat sitar-like tone, meandering until the track breaks down into drums and bass weaving around an insistent drum machine loop, dripping with synth pads and monosynth lead.

"JazzBasill" introduces the third piano trio - featuring Bugge (Piano), Jens Mikkel Madsen (Acoustic Bass) and Øyunn (Drums) - and offers a classic piano trio style with urban sophistication, that is lyrical, and interspersed with staccato cadences, giving a feeling of broken swing, slightly staggered yet driving forwards. The title track "AM ARE" is late night jazz, with baroque whispers, and distinctly melodic.

The final track, "Think Ahead" features the non-standard trio of Bugge (Piano/Organ), Oddrun Lilja (Guitar) and Sanskriti Shrestha (Tablas/Harp). Beginning with a minimalist piano figure, table, and sustained guitar, the track breaks down to a noise surge and ambient windscape, with guitar birds and abstract grinding, before returning to minimalist melodicism.

The shifting personnel across the album, as well as the three different studios in which it was recorded - Village Recording in Copenhagen, Rainbow Studios in Oslo, and his own Buggesroom Studio - creates a feeling of dynamic change and musical variety that is unified by Bugge's piano and keyboards. His playing moves between foreground, where he allows the music to elevate him, and background, where he move gently like a beneficent presence, tending to the demands of the spirit of the musical moments he has captured. It is an album powered by restless exploration and shaped by distinctive musical personalities; it is a journey through different moods, illuminated and brought into focus by Bugge's measured approach and guiding hand.

Capturing phantom drones behind dusty beats and haunted twangs, Ellis Swan and James Schimpl return for their third album as Dead Bandit. Locked into a musical language unique to their collaboration, the duo once again put us out to pasture across broad sonic plains, drums flapping like loose fence panels in the prairie breeze and bass rumbling like distant thunder. True to their previous two records, Swan and Schimpl keep the strung out guitars at the front of what they do, whether playing a naked, desolate strum or running six strings through disruptive effects processing until they're barely recognisable.
But while there are details of disturbance when listening to Dead Bandit's self-titled record up close, the wider impression is a smoother, more direct affair that toys with post-rock complexity and matches it with the emotional weight of melodic simplicity, gentle grooves and conscious arrangements. 'Weeds' offsets its languid fuzz guitar with shimmering sustained notes before settling into a patient, heavy-hearted composition charged with heartbreak leads pealing out in the middle distance.
By comparison, 'Glass' has a smoky, half-hidden backroom quality. Its brushed whisper of a beat, lingering guitar drones and subtle sub bass come on like a dub wise flip of a sad-eyed country ballad. The mood maintains on 'Half Smoked Cigarette', which captures the grey sky sullenness of post-punk and reframes it in the seductive isolation of rural America. While there's a thickness to the sound on these most direct of tracks on the album, there's also fragility inherent to the sound world Dead Bandit have been shaping out over these past few years.
'Buttercup' swaps sadness for sinister undercurrents, once more drawing on fulsome low end to fill out the sparse threads of instrumentation up top. 'Pink' finds a steady momentum for its own brand of brooding mystery, the sharp end of the beat bringing focus to the many-layered approaches to the guitar which roundly define the Dead Bandit sound. There's an even clearer direction mapped out in the vintage drum machine pulse of 'Koyo', all the better to carry swirling effects treatments and moody melodic figures. Even in these ominous climes there's space for plaintive, endearing hooks which land as the most direct phrases in Dead Bandit's musical lexicon to date.
The fundamental sound across this album holds true, but Dead Bandit are never bound to a singular practice. 'Lucien's Bitters' strikes up a pronounced drum machine beat which comes on like 90s downtempo, and it feels like a natural vessel for the heavy, shoegaze tinted lament of the guitars. At every turn, Swan and Schimpl prove their affinity for all kinds of approaches, and yet the end product is a deeply cohesive, immediate listen that shows just how clear their creative vision really is.

2025 Repress
Anenon's tenor saxophone breathes an emotive contemplation on loss, meshed with sustained piano and field recordings. 'Moons Melt Milk Light' is a hyper-personal statement contained in a visceral beauty.

LA native Anenon returns with a highly anticipated new album 'Moons Melt Milk Light' on Tonal Union, bearing his most personal, expressive, and arresting works to date. Anenon is the ongoing solo studio and live project of Brian Allen Simon, whom since 2010 has released multiple albums and EPs to critical acclaim, including the highly revered 'Tongue' (2018) and 'Petrol' (2016).

'Moons Melt Milk Light' is direct, efficient, and unwavering in its immediacy. Anenon departs from the electronics of previous works, and embarks on a reductive, almost entirely acoustic approach consisting of piano, tenor saxophone, bass clarinet, and field recordings. All of the music was improvised with everything recorded as either a first or second take with no edits. Any layering happened fast and in the moment, and yet the sonic architecture of the whole feels both planned and refined.

"I feel a kinetic and messy honesty that doesn't exist in any of the other music I've ever made. There is also a sense of being settled, of calm. There is no faking it here."

X or Size deftly frays and soothes the ‘floor with a 3rd LP of craftily textured ambient house scuzz for Good Morning Tapes in a vein shared by Huerco S, NWAQ, Actress, Michael J.Blood and Madteo, but pushed farther into groggy and loosey-goose limbed abstraction.

Formerly known as part of ambient drone duo The Geese with Recital’s Sean McCann, and member of psychedelic mutators Regal Degal; Josiah Wolfson has, in recent years, come into his own as X Or Size, whilst retaining the trippy sense of play and experiment that coloured and defined earlier works. His 3rd outing as X Or Size continues a tradition of punning titles and subtly psyched-out, edge-of-the-‘floor dance music with six bits of submersed trippiness idealised for bobbing bodies with eyelids at halfmast, on a slow arc to other dimensions.

Blessed with the finest grasp of heady equilibrium, X Or Size pull strings like a gently psychoactive puppeteer on the 10-minute opener of dreamlike physics, and aching psych-soul downstroke of ‘Anonymous AD'. ’B O M H’ follows with thee gauziest breeze of filtered vox and harmonised textures rolled out in sun-dazed motion that makes us hanker for warmer times, and ‘Ceremonism’ sustains that flow with sloshing beatdown drums paced like an offcut of NWAQ’s ‘The Dead Bears’ marinaded with special ingredients by Madteo.

With minds/bodies well massaged and acclimated to his vibe, ‘oSSo’ screws off into even trippier zones with a nervy offbeat swing and parry spangled by wettest spring reverb, before bringing up for air in the 11 minute title piece of astral planing bliss, ready to roll another one or go head first into the pillow.

Maud the moth, the solo project of Spanish-born and Scotland-based pianist, singer and songwriter Amaya Lopez-Carromero announces her new album, The Distaff, to be released via The Larvarium (digital +CD) and La Rubia Producciones (vinyl) Amaya has long used the mantle of Maud the moth as an alter-ego, a séance-like conduit to explore themes of rootlessness, identity and trauma. The Distaff in particular refers to the stick or spindle onto which wool or flax is wound for spinning, and an object which has historically been used across multiple cultures as a symbol wielded by the “virtuous woman”, an authoritarian ideal around which much of the trauma surrounding the feminine coalesces. The album takes the form of a sort of self reflective and surreal autobiography. It was in part inspired by the poem of the same name written by the Greek poet Erinna, as she mourns her friend's loss of individuality and agency in exchange for marriage - and therefore safety and acceptance in the eyes of society. The album exists in an ethereal but violent world of aesthetic overlaps where time stands still and fictional and reimagined folk sits at the table with Maud the moth’s usual sonic menagerie. It is the result of a lifetime of obsession with sound and music, where glimpses of musical genre offer insight into Amaya’s artistic interests and her participation in the underground European scene for many years, in bands such as healthyliving. Heavier, darker, and more exposed than any of her previous works it features some highly accomplished artists, such as Seb Rochford (Patti Smith, Polar Bear, Sons of Kemet, Pulled by magnets, etc.) on drums, Alison Chesley (Helen Money) on cello, Fay Guiffo on violin and Scott McLean (Ashenspire, healthyliving, Falloch) on guitar, saxophone and synthesiser. Maud the moth shares the video for "Siphonophores". About the track, Maud the moth says; I wrote "Siphonophores" on guitar, during the first lockdown, a period where I was kind of trapped between an almost empty flat in Edinburgh and Dresden. It was an incredibly harrowing time, but also one of hope and where important new things were being birthed. I felt incredibly sensitive to everything, almost like life was happening in slow motion. I´m not a confident guitarist since I am completely self-taught, but, probably because of this, I feel that this instrument allows me to focus on aspects of the songwriting that I normally overlook when writing on piano, and I think it was a necessary step for this song to exist. Something else which I've been really exploiting lately and features strongly in the album is the percussive capabilities of the piano, and in particular, of the sustain pedal when mic'd up. This can be heard very clearly at the beginning of "Siphonophores". Written and arranged by Amaya, with some contributions in the later role from the aforementioned collaborators, the album presents nine tracks originally written entirely on acoustic piano as accompanied voice pieces, in pure singer-songwriter fashion. The album was co-produced and recorded by Scott and Amaya in different studios across the UK between January and July of 2024, in a process that started shortly after the 2020 pandemic and finished alongside the album recordings in a detailed, organic and at times obsessive process aimed primarily at capturing the natural dynamics and expression of free performance. The Distaff was mixed in its entirety by Scott and mastered at Abbey Road by Alex Wharton (Radiohead, My Bloody Valentine, Aurora, Kathryn Joseph etc.) Despite being born of a very personal point of view, the album lacks a specific narrator and was conceived almost as a sonic trousseau, where the needle point, silks and other family heirlooms have been swapped for out-of-the-corner-of-the-eye memories of rural Spain by the vineyards, family disputes, old tales of wartime pains, generational breaches and finally the conflict of migration and estrangement. The songs paint dystopian pastoral scenes which evolve throughout the span of one fictional day outside of time and coherent locations and where imagination (often the only account surviving from traumatic events and gaslighting) has become indistinguishable from fact. The Distaff attempts to acknowledge past trauma, comprehend and process some of the more difficult aspects which have contributed to our darker self and offer closure and solace through creative catharsis.

Maud the moth, the solo project of Spanish-born and Scotland-based pianist, singer and songwriter Amaya Lopez-Carromero announces her new album, The Distaff, to be released via The Larvarium (digital +CD) and La Rubia Producciones (vinyl) Amaya has long used the mantle of Maud the moth as an alter-ego, a séance-like conduit to explore themes of rootlessness, identity and trauma. The Distaff in particular refers to the stick or spindle onto which wool or flax is wound for spinning, and an object which has historically been used across multiple cultures as a symbol wielded by the “virtuous woman”, an authoritarian ideal around which much of the trauma surrounding the feminine coalesces. The album takes the form of a sort of self reflective and surreal autobiography. It was in part inspired by the poem of the same name written by the Greek poet Erinna, as she mourns her friend's loss of individuality and agency in exchange for marriage - and therefore safety and acceptance in the eyes of society. The album exists in an ethereal but violent world of aesthetic overlaps where time stands still and fictional and reimagined folk sits at the table with Maud the moth’s usual sonic menagerie. It is the result of a lifetime of obsession with sound and music, where glimpses of musical genre offer insight into Amaya’s artistic interests and her participation in the underground European scene for many years, in bands such as healthyliving. Heavier, darker, and more exposed than any of her previous works it features some highly accomplished artists, such as Seb Rochford (Patti Smith, Polar Bear, Sons of Kemet, Pulled by magnets, etc.) on drums, Alison Chesley (Helen Money) on cello, Fay Guiffo on violin and Scott McLean (Ashenspire, healthyliving, Falloch) on guitar, saxophone and synthesiser. Maud the moth shares the video for "Siphonophores". About the track, Maud the moth says; I wrote "Siphonophores" on guitar, during the first lockdown, a period where I was kind of trapped between an almost empty flat in Edinburgh and Dresden. It was an incredibly harrowing time, but also one of hope and where important new things were being birthed. I felt incredibly sensitive to everything, almost like life was happening in slow motion. I´m not a confident guitarist since I am completely self-taught, but, probably because of this, I feel that this instrument allows me to focus on aspects of the songwriting that I normally overlook when writing on piano, and I think it was a necessary step for this song to exist. Something else which I've been really exploiting lately and features strongly in the album is the percussive capabilities of the piano, and in particular, of the sustain pedal when mic'd up. This can be heard very clearly at the beginning of "Siphonophores". Written and arranged by Amaya, with some contributions in the later role from the aforementioned collaborators, the album presents nine tracks originally written entirely on acoustic piano as accompanied voice pieces, in pure singer-songwriter fashion. The album was co-produced and recorded by Scott and Amaya in different studios across the UK between January and July of 2024, in a process that started shortly after the 2020 pandemic and finished alongside the album recordings in a detailed, organic and at times obsessive process aimed primarily at capturing the natural dynamics and expression of free performance. The Distaff was mixed in its entirety by Scott and mastered at Abbey Road by Alex Wharton (Radiohead, My Bloody Valentine, Aurora, Kathryn Joseph etc.) Despite being born of a very personal point of view, the album lacks a specific narrator and was conceived almost as a sonic trousseau, where the needle point, silks and other family heirlooms have been swapped for out-of-the-corner-of-the-eye memories of rural Spain by the vineyards, family disputes, old tales of wartime pains, generational breaches and finally the conflict of migration and estrangement. The songs paint dystopian pastoral scenes which evolve throughout the span of one fictional day outside of time and coherent locations and where imagination (often the only account surviving from traumatic events and gaslighting) has become indistinguishable from fact. The Distaff attempts to acknowledge past trauma, comprehend and process some of the more difficult aspects which have contributed to our darker self and offer closure and solace through creative catharsis.