Cerca:sw mindset

mindSET is the ninth album from enigmatic producer SW., directly following this summer’s excursion into his trademark techno, IDM and bleep soundscapes, on the myDEFINITIONS Vol II album. But with his mindSET album SW. takes a left turn, as pioneers often do, and we find ourselves on the lesser traveled side roads of electronic music history. Or in SW.’s own words: “the more abstract leftfield elements.”
It’s in these less-defined areas that SW. finds his sweet spot, building dancefloor soundtracks that defied definition. And with mindSET the sounds and the machines might have changed, the methodology remains the same.
“It draws from what was more generally seen in leftfield as a term for the slightly off-kilter house and broken beats that didn’t fit neatly into classic genres, whether that was Chicago house, French garage, drum and bass, or broken beat. It’s more about those in-between sounds that never really took off, only appearing briefly in the early to mid-90s and then quickly disappearing. There was a certain magic in that moment, which I wanted to capture. Also, the entire album was produced using classic analog equipment, with old machines that were used during that era. That’s the approach I’ve taken.”
The eight tracks on mindSET are shaped out of de-tuned techno pop synths and heavy, syncopated drums, grooving along chopped-up polymeters to create an eerie mood, as if orbiting an undiscovered planet for the first time. The harmonic movements are often bent out of shape, sometimes veering towards Gherkin Jerks or Cristian Vogel territory. But in the end, the sounds are less important than the atmosphere, and the tracks represent an attitude or an approach - to creating the music as well as experiencing it. mindSET is a nod to those dancers sharing an oddball moment, and for those of us on the same wavelength, it's a vibe we can all get inside.

Versions Visions, the third EP from Umanuto, is an artistic union between rising producer Sirius Topic and label founder Javas. Blending psychedelic-tinged house with minimal and retrospective vibes, the EP showcases a unified sonic vision despite differing creative approaches. Parsec opens with Detroit-inspired melancholy and minimalist depth.

Sellerhausen ramps up with acid energy and rhythmic drive, evoking a mysterious Leipzig night. Navigation offers a reflective, sway-inducing stroll through sound. Mindset wraps up the EP with a house groove, weaving joy into layers of introspection. A thoughtful, genre-blurring exploration of mood and movement

2026 Repress
Temudo - Meteora (FUSE06) by Noah Hocker

A leader of the Portuguese wave in techno co-founding Hayes Collective while boasting acclaimed releases on Klockworks, Blueprint, and Soma, Temudo grabs the reins to take club music back to its days of audacity and risk taking. A more than promising up-and-comer turned modern reference, Temudo defends his reputation with a release showcasing depth in his various sonic universes and a deep understanding of his music's history. For its seventh release, Temudo's 'Meteora' is a logical next step for the club's direction - a sweet spot between dancefloor efficiency and enduring aesthetic.

Combining the intrigue of mental soundscapes with the reliability of imposing rhythm, 'Meteora' finds itself collected, expressing effect through restraint. The title track, claiming the EP's A1, is just that - a force of interweaving sound design and powerful micro transitions. Some believe the best techno records are able to express emotion and attitude despite its dissonant and machinelike nature; if that's the case then Temudo has mastered the craft. 'When I Grow Up', however, puts the focus back on the body. What sounds like warbling tape modulation over a percussive lead makes this record an addictively delirious ride from start to finish, fitting in with the track before while shifting to different priorities. Proving his versatility, 'Vrthng' at first seems reminiscent of the minimal Berlin style with a higher pace, but quickly progresses into something intensely euphoric. With experience and measure, an out of the box approach can really pay off, and the added emotion in 'Vrthng' is certainly a turning point in the EP. This mindset is clearly carried over in the project's conclusion : 'It's Always Past'. A surprising use of harmony and storytelling, this final chapter ends with Temudo sealing his style with confidence. The track is mystified by its chords, ending 'Meteora' with a question mark that leaves us in anticipation for what Temudo dares to do next.

As it celebrates its 50th anniversary, Bill Withers' Still Bill remains true to its title – and stands as the greatest male-fronted soul album not made by a singer named Marvin, Al, Sam, James, or Ray. Though the saying "keeping it real" did not exist in popular parlance when Withers released his sophomore effort on Sussex Records, no words better capture the music's approach, mindset, and value. Every facet of Still Bill radiates honesty, truth, and emotion.

These characteristics – along with Withers' strong singing, hybrid arrangements, and deceptively simple songwriting – have allowed the album to endure to the point where it sounds as fresh today as in 1972.

After rising into the Top 5 of the Billboard Album charts and attaining gold status within a year of release, Still Bill has long been evaluated not by sales – but according to its merit, spirit, and agelessness. Included by The Guardian on its "1,000 Albums to Hear Before You Die" list (2007) as well as in Tom Moon's 1,000 Recordings to Hear Before You Die book (2008), its contemporary standing as one of history's most venerated soul efforts eclipses the positive reception it enjoyed in the early ‘70s.

Still Bill walks the same hallowed ground as What's Going On, Call Me, Night Beat, and Genius + Soul = Jazz. Like those landmarks, Still Bill plays with a mix of consistency, effortlessness, and complexity that rewards repeat listening and transcends categorization.

In combining four of the era's predominant styles – Philly soul, sweaty funk, Southern-reared blues, acoustic-based folk – and melding them with standout production borrowed from both minimalist affairs and sophisticated singer-songwriter albums, Still Bill occupies a distinct universe.

Its rhythmic fare is equally laidback and invigorating; relaxing and rollicking; eloquent and muscular; soft and tough. Withers' calm, self-assured voice hovers above it all, doubling as a warm blanket that adds comfort and grace to lyrics steeped in maturity, perspective, and compassion.

Withers' balanced outlook on human desires, needs, and situations stem from his own existence as a former blue-collar employee who believed his time as a musician would soon end. That grounding forever separates Withers from other contemporary soul greats – and stamps Still Bill with a conversational nature and egoless approachability.

"I mean look, I'm really a factory worker," said Withers in 1972. "That's a real job." There's that word again: real. The songs on Still Bill are tethered to modesty and actuality, wedded to a belief in simplicity, and connected to universal truths that link us all – independent of our economic or social standing. No track better exemplifies those principles than "Lean on Me," a feel-good paean to brotherhood and community that hit No. 1 on the pop and R&B charts en route to becoming a mainstream staple.

Withers approaches the plainspoken insight on "Lonely Town, Lonely Street" and heartbreaking vulnerability of "I Don't Want You on My Mind" with similar sincerity and straightforwardness. His proclivity for authenticity extends to the record's other big hit: the sexual, funk-laden "Use Me," which reached No. 2 and reflects the singer's everyman persona. It's an identity couched in keeping it real, the very inclination that ultimately led Withers to retire in the mid-'80s rather than bend to industry pressures or risk credibility.

That commitment to truthfulness and realism helps make Still Bill feel as unaffected as the air we breathe. Looking back on "Lean on Me" years later, Withers said it seemed like "something that was there before I got here" – the kind of song that could be 100 or 10 years old, or one we encounter anew 10 years into the future. The same can be said for every note on Still Bill.

The cycle of life and nature is a precious and wondrous thing. We are born. We learn. We live. We die. And after death, another life awaits. When the world succumbs to the cold, dark grasp of winter, the promise of a spring birthing everything anew keeps hope alive. Such is the journey we make, and such is the lifespan of “Faþir”. Heaving, pulsating, filled with contrasts: ardent hostility and fiery revenge, blossoming life and lush fertility, soul-wrenching grief and deep anguish. Such is the path we walk under the guidance of the deities – the helping hand of a father, the nurturing wisdom in times of need. But sometimes, a treacherous god leads us into death and despair, albeit always with an underlying purpose. Such is “Faþir”.

With eloquence, elegance, and emotion, L. Swärd has created another monolith of sublime art to add to Forndom’s impeccable discography. This highly awaited follow-up to 2016’s “Dauðra Dura” is nothing short of a modern masterpiece, rooted in ancient ways. Expressive vocals and strings soar atop a foundation of unyielding drums, like spirits dancing in the skies yet bound to the human pulse. Never surrendering its strong connection to our mortal world, “Faþir” carries a deeply sacred dimension – a glimpse of the divine, seen through a lens of devotion and veracity. The joining of death and life, if you will.

The thick atmospheres and vast inner landscapes Forndom creates are more prevalent than ever, and from the first trembling string introduction of “Jakten” to the last wistful beat of “Hemkomst”, one is transported to another time, another place, and another mindset – leaving behind the calamity, stress, and superficiality of the modern world, and rediscovering the lost wisdom hidden behind the veil of passing years.

In 1999, on December 23 to be precise, the electronic music landscape changed forever. On that day, the now legendary Icelandic band múm released their debut album “Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today Is OK”. The thing is though, back in the day, hardly anybody realized. It was Christmas after all, people were busy with potentially more important things and didn’t pay attention to some kids selling records on Reykjavík’s high street. Little did those shoppers know.

Thankfully, those 10 tracks weren’t overlooked for long. On the contrary: the album went on to become one of the most influential building blocks of what back then was called electronica and today is considered an art form playing a crucial and important role in shaping and defining the rich electronic music culture of the 21st century. Now, 20 years after the record dropped onto planet Earth, Morr Music is re-issuing the remastered album with its original artwork, adding newly commissioned re-works: A note-for-note representation of “Smell Memory“ by Kronos Quartet (with additional drums by múm’s Samuli Kosminen), a gentle reinterpretation of “Random Summer” by acclaimed pianist and composer Hauschka and an otherworldly new version of “Ballad Of The Broken String” recorded by label mate Sóley. Additionally, four remixes produced in the early 2000s are made available for the first time ever on vinyl here.

In 1999, electronic music was in full bloom. The dance floors were thriving worldwide.Yet the concept of using electronic sounds in acoustic-based productions (or vice versa) was still in its infancy. Many producers were trying, most of them failed. The results felt often forced, fabricated, unimaginative, random and forgettable. New ideas require new mindsets after all. With “Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today Is OK”, múm established a new approach in music production. Instead of setting a fixed agenda and working with a distinct hierarchy for their sonic palette, Gyða Valtýsdóttir, Kristín Anna Valtýsdóttir, Gunnar Örn Tynes and Örvar Smárason let each instrument and sound source be true to itself, creating an ever-evolving universe of sonic bliss. Listening to the album in 2019 still makes every music lover’s heart jump. Combining Drill-and-Bass-inspired beat-chopping, future-informed DSP-programming, ethereal vocal work, indie rock’s boominess, folk music’s soulful brittleness and a lofty feeling for melody and arrangement, the album is a rare example of musical transcendence and remains impossible to categorize.

Many of the ideas formulated and recorded for the album quickly became an integral part of the canonical self-conception musicians around the world were and still are aspiring to. How these ideas really came about, though, is not known – the dynamics, the struggles, the qualms, the sudden realization of having achieved something which might actually stick. Maybe that is a good thing. Örvar Smárason remembers that most of the album “was recorded in a tiny, sweaty room in the summer of 1999 with carpenters banging nails around us, but sometimes we put on headphones so we couldn’t hear them.” It is a good thing they did. As is often the case with classics, all one can do is listen closely and let the magic sink in – again and again.

The Swedish band Bullet got together in autumn 2001, with the aim of playing traditional heavy metal inspired by the late 1970s and early 1980s: solid, authentic and classic, with a contemporary and timeless touch. Seven years after their latest studio album, ‘Dust To Gold’ (2018), the musicians Dag “Hell” Hofer (vocals), Hampus Klang (guitar), Gustav Hector (bass), Gustav Hjortsjö (drums) and latest addition Freddie Johansson (guitar) are now back with a new album: ‘Kickstarter’ is scheduled for release on Steamhammer/SPV on 09 January 2026 and is set to prove that Bullet are determined to continue their almost 25-year career with the very kickstart referenced to by the album title. This of course also includes Bullet’s iconic tour bus, whose engine exploded after one of their most recent shows, forcing the musicians to embark on their return journey without their rolling accommodation. Naturally, this was the end neither of Bullet nor their battered vehicle – to the contrary: The group’s classic heavy metal spirit and their unwavering DIY mindset have proved stronger than ever. Having repaired the ageing bus with unwavering determination, oil-smeared hands and sweaty brows. Bullet are now ready to hit the road again, with ‘Kickstarter’ and the three lead singles/videos ‘Kickstarter’ (17 October 2025), ‘Keep Rolling’ (21 November 2025) and ‘Chained By Metal’ (19 December 2025) on board.

Spandau20, an imprint named after the Western Berlin district and focused on artists from the area, delivers techno in all diverse forms - from warehouse and electronic peak time beats to breaks and IDM, balancing the old and new school sounds flawlessly. With a focus on vinyl releases, for the collectors, Spandau20 has lately also focused on its label nights, with showcases at Fabric, Bassiani and many others. The label's 10th release features 10 tracks that epitomise the musical diversity of Spandau20 and the progressive musical mindset of its roster, calling on the label favourites and Spandau natives to deliver brand new and exciting music. This special release even features one track that all artists have worked on together: 'Come Closer', a swarming, slithering beginning featured as the VA's opener. Its barely coherent female vocal echoing amidst a cacophony of demon-like effects. The chilling ambience captured at the offset transcends into the first full length track by Elli Acula, 'Floating Eyes', a cur characterised by an authoritative, pounding bass featuring calculated percussive rolls and metallic overtones to make for a face-scrunching opener to this devilish collection of works. FJAAK follow for the first of twin cameo appearances, partnering up with fellow live supremo and hardware aficionado KiNK. On 'Overbridge' the trio deliver a cavernous, rolling number driven by a deep thrumming bass in addition to a razor-edged lead synth, and pulsating technopattern. Dajusch is known for incorporating his years of classical study in with his immersive musical style - and with his VA effort the Berlin native neatly showcases this. Easing the energy slightly, 'Move' escalates from its warm, melodic intro into rumbling goliath of a beat comprising a looping, slew of gassy harmonics. The momentum of the release shifts considerably with the introduction of acutely versatile producer, DJ and sound artist Claus. The artist from Spandau leans his track 'Bloomscroll' towards sparse, dubby sonics in which he intricately ties together to form churning, burgeoning soundscape. FJAAK jolt proceedings back into the techno groove with their signature blend of arresting sub-bass and reverberating rhythms, which come thick, fast and heavy on 'Jackfruit'. The abstract wonder of Anna Z's broken-beat like stylings is fully explored on 'Icy Liq'. It's outlandish and amorphous in its execution, causing a clattering percussive chaos that's choicely pieced together by the modular-extraordinaire. Nikk stealthy moves into breaks territory with his track 'Down In The Shadows', packing a trap-like snare with an acid-flecked melody and dawn-breaking, dream-like textures. The penultimate track on the VA is 'Tufted'. J.Manuel expertly employs a chorus of robot-like sonics that course through a short-circuiting low-end to produce a pacy, inescapable journey via a whirling, merciless beat. He is joined by the legendary producer Tobi Neumann for their menacingly ambient number titled 'Fennec.' In parts a nod to UK dubstep, the duo concocts a fierce admixture of styles bolstering tribal-like components with industrialised overtones and methodically crafted drum-fills.

Long and intermittent running duo of Discrepant head honcho Gonçalo F Cardoso and Angela Valid's Alex Jones, with sometime collaborator Phil Laney aka Kenny Hosepipe joining in somewhere along the way, Hair & Treasure crossover from Sucata Tapes to Discrepant wax via 'Disc Rot'. Described by the duo, in their cryptic and scatological fashion, as "a fetid spread from the buttery catacombs of Hair & Treasure", one can only speculate on the mindset, if not for the scenario, for these file swap recording sessions. As if decaying throughout this back & forth process, the synthscapes, field recordings, voices from who knows where? and subliminal pulses assembled in these 11 pieces all coalesce into this out-there murk where invocations of "a" real are mangled into unhinged, squinting eyes moments of near- consciousness.

Compared to previous Hair & Treasure ventures like 'Two Fucking Tapes' or 'Forked Piss Blues', 'Disc Rot' forgoes side-long tapestries by focusing on shorter and clearer transmissions from the netherworld. Still, the feeling of pieces of discarded hardware and sound hubris lying around and turned music of the duo remains unscathed, filtered through a newfound precision. After the opening feverish threat of 'Warm Night', the suspended synth pads and working machinery of 'Byzantine Turd Skirt' actually comes as a relief, pulling away (a bit) of the dread to resurface with the Texas Chainsaw Massacre OST ambience of 'Amateur Depravity' and 2004-ish Midwest noise stylings of 'Busy Hubby's Flight to Gstaad' and 'Tit Ale'. 'Roads Gonad Today' and 'Just Jerkers' are not that far removed from a lower fidelity take on Black Dice circa 'Creature Comforts', while -'Professional Babies' goes back a couple of years to their collabs with Wolf Eyes, bust mostly, all of this sounds like nothing but Hair & Treasure themselves. If you know, you know.

Over the years, Tommy Cossack and his trusty band of Degenerators have developed and dishevelled into one of London’s most chaotic nights out. With mindsets occupied by disobedience and destruction, Tommy Cossack & The Degenerators play frantically insubordinate punk music textured with searing synth elements and deranged vocal delivery. Described as “mental breakdown music for the terminally online” their freaky, neurotic style is anxiety-fuelling in all the best ways. Originally a solo-project of Tommy Cossack and then debuting as a full band in 2021, the six-piece tastefully layer the raucous elements found in Australian freak-punk over rock ’n’ roll tendencies.

Repress!

Compilation of 80s Turkish-Swiss band Café Türk, featuring selected works from their discography as well as previously unreleased recordings!

Café Türk's unrestrained sonic palette explores new wave, psych, disco and reggae with influences from Anatolia and Azerbaijan.2xLP includes a 4-page booklet with extensive liner notes and photos.

Café Türk are an inimitable Turkish-Swiss band formed in the 1980s, whose genre-bending sonic palette draws from Anatolia, the Caucasus and Western Europe. The group’s frantic trajectory connects Switzerland and the Turkish city of Kars with a background story as rich and unexpected as their sound. After three decades since they disbanded, Zel Zele Records have collaborated with Turkish crate-digger Grup Ses to give the music of Café Türk a new lease of life. This eponym compilation features original album tracks, singles and previously unreleased takes that trace the outline of the group’s history. From the rolling disco of the group’s debut recording “Haydi Yallah”; to the previously unreleased kosmiche of “Yıldızlar”, “Ali Baba From Istanbul”s Azeri grooves and German language vocals, to the psyched-out interpretation of Causaccian folk tune “Şamil”, Café Türk showcases the endless stream of ideas the band had during their time together between 1983 and 1989. Tracks come with an unrestrained spirit, weaving in the crackling energy of new wave, rock, disco and reggae with influences from Turkey and Azerbaijan.

This fascination in pulling different worlds together goes right back to the formative days of Metin Demiral, founder of Café Türk. Metin grew up in Kars, a provincial town in the Northeastern part of Turkey. Kars was once known for its multicultural communities; where you could hear locals speaking a range of languages, from Turkish to Azeri, Russian and Kurdish. In 1983 Café Türk won a contest set for Turkish groups based in Europe, organised by the label Türküola, home to Turkish stars like Cem Karaca, Selda Bağcan and Barış Manço. The resultant recording sessions gave birth to his new band and debut LP, Pizza Funghi. But Metin turned down Türküola’s offer to put the record out and instead self-pressed 1000 copies on his own Sound Concept label - driving as far as Berlin to sell them face-to-face to record shops. The record was picked up by a member of the German city of Nuremburg’s Cultural Department and soon Café Türk were invited to play for the local workers’ unions, many of whom represented immigrants from Turkey. These events only grew in popularity, the group ultimately spending five years touring similar shows in Europe, alongside more conventional tours and festivals. Metin had hoped to bring his new record to audiences in Turkey again, however, he found it impossible to get any of his songs played on state-sponsored radio, something he attributed to the infamously strict supervisory board of TRT, Turkey’s state-funded broadcaster. TRT tended to not accept songs that blended both western and traditional Turkish music in order to avoid “degenerating” Turkish folk music. Cafe Türk tried to fight this conservative mindset, but progressively resigned themselves to the political restrictions of the time

Michael Mayer albums don’t come round too often, which is one of many reasons why his fourth collection, The Floor Is Lava, is a genuine event. It’s been eight years since his last one, the collaborative & released on !K7; its predecessors, Mantasy (2012) and Touch (2004), took their sweet time, too. It’s no real surprise, given the many hats Mayer wears – globetrotting DJ, revered remixer, inveterate collaborator, and boss of both Kompakt and Imara – that his solo productions are relatively sparing. But this also speaks to their quality: Mayer’s name on a record sleeve is a sign of quality, of music that’s both looking to the future and calling back to the past, that balances the imperatives of the dancefloor and the loungeroom, that’s as exploratory as it is functional.

On The Floor Is Lava, Mayer seems to be taking the temperature of both the music that surrounds him (past and present), and the ides of the industry he works within. There’s that iconic album title, for a start. “The album’s mindset,” he says, reflecting on those four words together. For Mayer, it’s partly a critique of the way the industry boxes in both producer and listener, focuses them on genre, on market, on the next new thing: “Being a free minded spirit that transcends genres has become an uphill battle.” A battle worth fighting, though, and with The Floor Is Lava, the result is an album that’s varied, quixotic, idiosyncratic, charming, and deeply, addictively listenable.

Throughout, Mayer finds thrills in exploration and juxtaposition, allowing unexpected things to blossom and giving them their life, their platform, throwing the listener exciting curveballs: “It’s a DJ album by a DJ that’s easily bored.” Either easily bored, or endlessly curious, The Floor Is Lava is rich with ideas. It opens with “The Problem”, which looks back to look forward, embracing the rickety way early house productions threw samples together with gleeful abandon. Mayer mentions Pal Joey, and the scene around Rockers Hi-Fi and their Different Drummer imprint, as reference points, and you can hear that freewheeling spirit throughout.

It’s followed by “Vagus”, a slinky, sensual minimal house number that Mayer describes as his “musical catnip”. The flow of these two opening cuts defines the dynamic of The Floor Is Lava, defining the dialectical drive at its core: thesis and antithesis leads to synthesis, but with a welcome prickliness that means you’re always excited, always engaged. It’s also productive in the way it derives energy from rubbing genres and sounds against each other, in unexpected ways, for maximum musical frisson. There’s psychedelic techno on “Feuerstuhl”, more minimal techno with “Ardor” (Mayer mentions ‘Immer 1’ era 90s minimal as inspiration), slippery, Shepard-tone breakbeat through “Sycophant”, a lovely, lush vocal turn on the poppy “The Solution”.

The album closes with the melancholy “Süßer Schlaf”, where Mayer sets a poem by Goethe to one of his most haunted, moving pieces of music yet, in abstract tribute to a lost friend. It’s one of the most affecting moments on The Floor Is Lava. There’s also an update on 2020’s wild Brainwave Technology EP, with the surrealist glitter-stomp of “Brainwave 2.0” (check out those handclaps!),where Mayer’s thinking about the socio-political precipice of the now: “I’m reading with great interest about this whole complex of how humanity is about to cross so many lines and the implications that the resulting financial and educational inequality will bring.”

That’s The Floor Is Lava: then and now, brainwaves and nerve structures, problems and solutions, genres on fire; the real, the unreal, and the surreal. An album for the easily bored and the endlessly curious. Mayer has the last word, telling us all you need to know about the album’s spirit: “Burning for the cause, being zealous, being addicted to the heat of the night, the exuberant powers of music.”

Michael Mayer veröffentlicht nicht oft Alben, was einer von vielen Gründen ist, warum ‘The Floor Is Lava’ ein echtes Ereignis ist. Es sind acht Jahre vergangen seit seinem letzten Werk, dem Kollaborationsalbum &, das auf !K7 erschien; seine Vorgänger, Mantasy (2012) und Touch (2004), ließen ebenfalls auf sich warten. Es überrascht nicht wirklich, da Mayer viele Rollen gleichzeitig erfüllt – weltreisender DJ, vielbeschäftigter Remixer, unermüdlicher Kollaborateur und Chef von sowohl Kompakt als auch Imara – weshalb seine Solo-Produktionen eher sparsam ausfallen. Doch das spricht auch für deren Qualität: Ein Album mit Mayers Namen auf dem Cover steht für Qualität, für Musik, die sowohl in die Zukunft blickt als auch auf die Vergangenheit verweist, die das Gleichgewicht zwischen den Anforderungen des Dancefloors und des Wohnzimmers hält, die genauso erforschend wie funktional ist.

Auf The Floor Is Lava scheint Mayer sowohl die Musik um ihn herum (vergangen und gegenwärtig) als auch die Strömungen der Branche, in der er arbeitet, zu reflektieren. Da wäre zunächst der ikonische Albumtitel. „Die Grundhaltung des Albums“, sagt er, drückt sich in diesen vier Worte aus. Für Mayer ist es teilweise eine Kritik daran, wie die Industrie sowohl Produzenten als auch Hörer in Schubladen steckt, sie auf Genres, auf den Markt und auf das nächste große Ding fokussiert: „Ein freier Geist zu sein, der Genres überschreitet, ist zu einem steinigen Weg geworden.“ Ein Kampf, der sich jedoch lohnt, und mit The Floor Is Lava ist das Ergebnis ein Album, das vielfältig, eigenwillig, charmant und tiefsinnig, aber auch süchtig machend ist.

Im gesamten Album findet Mayer Freude an der Erforschung und Gegenüberstellung von Stilen, lässt unerwartete Dinge erblühen und gibt ihnen Raum, überrascht den Hörer mit spannenden Wendungen: „Es ist ein DJ-Album von einem DJ, der sich schnell langweilt.“ Entweder langweilt er sich schnell oder er ist unendlich neugierig – The Floor Is Lava ist reich an Ideen. Es beginnt mit „The Problem“, das in die Vergangenheit blickt, um nach vorne zu schauen, und die wilde Art, wie frühe House-Produktionen Samples mit fröhlicher Unbekümmertheit zusammenwarfen, aufgreift. Mayer nennt Pal Joey und die Szene um Rockers Hi-Fi und ihr Label Different Drummer als Referenzpunkte, und dieser freie Geist zieht sich durch das gesamte Album.

Es folgt „Vagus“, eine sinnliche Minimal-House-Nummer, die Mayer als seine „musikalische Katzenminze“ beschreibt. Der Fluss dieser beiden Eröffnungstracks definiert die Dynamik von The Floor Is Lava und den dialektischen Antrieb im Kern: These und Antithese führen zu einer Synthese, jedoch mit einer willkommenen Schärfe, die dafür sorgt, dass man immer aufgeregt und engagiert bleibt. Zudem gewinnt das Album Energie, indem es Genres und Klänge auf unerwartete Weise aneinanderreibt, um maximalen musikalischen Nervenkitzel zu erzeugen. Es gibt psychedelischen Techno in „Feuerstuhl“, mehr Minimal Techno mit „Ardor“ (Mayer erwähnt ‘Immer’ Ära Minimal als Bezugspunkt), gleitenden Shepard-Ton-Breakbeat in „Sycophant“ und einen lieblichen, üppigen Vocal-Auftritt im poppigen „The Solution“.

Das Album schließt mit dem melancholischen „Süßer Schlaf“, in dem Mayer ein Gedicht von Goethe vertont und eine seiner bisher eindringlichsten und bewegendsten musikalischen Kompositionen schafft, als abstrakten Tribut an eine verschiedene Freundin. Es ist einer der ergreifendsten Momente auf The Floor Is Lava. Ebenfalls gibt es ein Update der wilden Brainwave Technology-EP von 2020, mit dem surrealistischen Glitzer-Stampfer „Brainwave 2.0“ (hör dir diese Handclaps an!), in dem Mayer über den sozio-politischen Abgrund der Gegenwart nachdenkt: „Ich lese mit großem Interesse über diesen ganzen Komplex, wie die Menschheit dabei ist, so viele Grenzen zu überschreiten und welche Auswirkungen die daraus resultierende finanzielle und bildungstechnische Ungleichheit haben wird.“

Das ist The Floor Is Lava: Damals und heute, Gehirnwellen und Nervengeflechte, Probleme und Lösungen, brennende Genres; das Reale, das Unreale und das Surreale. Ein Album für die schnell Gelangweilten und die unendlich Neugierigen. Mayer hat das letzte Wort und sagt uns alles, was wir über den Geist des Albums wissen müssen: „Brennen für die Sache, leidenschaftlich sein, süchtig nach der Hitze der Nacht, den überschwänglichen Kräften der Musik.“

Opaque Mango Colored Vinyl. RIYL: Black Milk, Kendrick Lamar, Kamasi Washington, Mos Def, Blood Orange, Milo, Pharcyde, Blackalicious, Anderson Paak. Richmond, Virginia-based artist McKinley Dixon has always used his music as a tool for healing, exploring, and unpacking the Black experience in order to create stories for others like him. For My Mama And Anyone Who Look Like Her, Dixon's debut album on Spacebomb, is the culmination of a journey where heartbreak and introspection challenged him to adapt new ways of communicating physically and mentally, as well as across time and space. The language accessibility aspect of this project draws right back to communication and connecting," Dixon explains. "I think about the messaging, and how this can be a way for another Black person, someone who looks like me, to listen to this and process the past. Everything I've learned about communication for this album culminates with this bigger question about time. Is time linear when you're still healing and processing? Westerners look at time travel as something to conquer or control - it's a colonizer mindset. That's ignoring how time travel can be done through stories and non-verbal communication, and doesn't acknowledge how close indigenous people are to the land and the connections groups have because they've existed somewhere for so long. Storytelling is time travel, it's taking the listener to that place. Quick time travel. Magic." Never relying solely on beats, Dixon taps into a hybrid of jazz and rap, pulling in an array of piercing strings, soulful horns, percussion, and angelic vocalists throughout the album-plus features by Micah James, Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon, Pink Siifu, and more. Jazz instrumentals add a level of uncertainty, with the sounds and shifts evoking a lot of emotion and vulnerability. It's an energy he describes as "Pre-Kendrick Lamar To Pimp A Butterfly," the era when rap adopted more live instrumentation. The best way to sum up this album is: I was sad, I was mad, and now I'm alive," Dixon explains. "These things I talk about on the record have had harmful and brilliant effects on my timeline, and have forced me to be cognizant of the fact that living is complex. Rap has allowed me the language to communicate, and be someone who can communicate with people from all over. Knowing how far I've come, I think people will find trust in the message I'm sending."

2024 Repress

All in that stark contrast between ethereal spaciousness and steely, martial rhythms out the industrial spectrum, 'Far Field' takes us on a voyage across the board, from breaks-heavy machine stunts to washed-out tapestries, via EBM-laced detours and junglistic maneuvers. Investigating the nexus zone between dance functionality and limitless escapology, it extrapolates both artists' blends to further immersive, hypnotic effect. Taking over the A side, .VRIL gets the ball rolling with 'Lost Together', which sets the tone on a low-slung, nostalgia-drenched note; combining the syncopated swagger of downtempo techno with ambient-oid stasis and static-filled opacity. Like watching an all-metal sun sinking past the blazing skyline. Revving up the engines, 'Fnord' feat. RAeYN conjures up a way more muscular arsenal of big-room-ready wares, from aggro snare salvos to anthemic synth kinetics, through that replicant-hunting kinda vibe. One to have the Saturn rings go hula hoop, with all woofers and brains in the vicinity melting in XTC. Shutting the A side off, 'We Believe' returns to a lighter, more vaporous mindset but sure implements that signature heavy swing of .VRIL, flush with textured kicks and FX-soaked arps. True monster prog swell. Flip it over and there's HVL dishing out a textbook example of his vortical electronic furls with the title-track, 'Far Field' - an oneiric drift that slowly rises from its heavy-lidded slumber, ascending towards bleepin' n bloopin' experimental effervescence as bars fly by. A number bound to hack your body and mind into two distinct facets, and while one dances its way frantically across the ever buzzing space/time continuum, the other shall reach a state of healing calm and transcending ubiquity. Smoothly shuttling us off to the upper layers of the ionosphere, 'Lancet Mxi' clenches it on a trippy note, taxiing us midway zero-G UK bass territories and eerie ambient abstraction. HVL's total, widescreen vision at its most unhindered, all set at expanding your mind to yet uncharted horizons of sound and closing the gap between two distant, estranged galaxies. A fractured headspace to both dance and dream to. *Dressed in a fine piece of artwork courtesy of Daniel M. Diaz, 'RYCL021' comes pressed on 180g audiophile black vinyl for optimal playing and listening experience.

Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water, the self-titled debut from the duo of trumpeter Will Evans and guitarist, synthesist, producer and multi-instrumentalist Theo Trump, arrives like a vault revelation. It feels like a decades-old yet newly unearthed masterwork of gorgeous ambient improvisation, the sort of thing scholars live to research and shepherd into deluxe reissue.

The patient, crystalline chords that swell and resonate like a series of confessions; the textured brass murmurs that suggest a ’60s or ’70s Fire Music master at their most poignant. Provocative found-sound experiments threading arcane religious recordings through dystopian soundscapes. Ear-shattering free-noise tumult. Where and when did this music come from? Who are these voices?

As it turns out, Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water springs from an engrossing human story, though it isn’t necessarily the one you’d expect. This work of stunning maturity is in fact an entrance by two little-known explorers in their early 20s, who grew up together in Virginia, in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It documents one of those perfect, sparkling moments in post-adolescence when big decisions and responsibilities are right around the corner, but for a spell, two young artists are able to create among the comforts and nostalgia of their shared past.

It also represents a reunion of sorts, as Evans and Trump connected as toddlers, became inseparable as boys, then pursued independent lives and creative paths as young adults. “Theo is my oldest friend,” Evans says, “and I feel like that’s what this band is — us meeting right in the middle of our interests.”

Now, having conjured this magic, they’ve detached once again: Evans, whose other works include the indie/avant-jazz unit Angelica X, is currently based in New York City. Trump recently moved to England, where he’d participated in his family’s theatre company, to go to school and further his solo ambient project. “This album didn’t start out as something super ambitious,” Evans explains. “It was more just an excuse to spend time together again and make music.”

***

In conversation, Evans and Trump are a delight, especially for cynics who might think that Gen-Z is only capable of doomscrolling. They come across as kindly young intellectuals who grew up using the internet as it was intended, for exposure to ideas and art across genres and generations. Trump points to indie-folk and the oracular post-rock of late Talk Talk, Bark Psychosis and Gastr del Sol. Pressed for his guitar heroes, he cites Bill Orcutt, Mary Halvorson and Marc Ribot, and mentions his devotion to alt-country. Heyday electro-industrial stuff like Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails also meant a lot to him.

Evans is equally intrepid, though his background has a greater jazz focus. Ambrose Akinmusire, among today’s most thoughtfully commanding trumpeters, is a favorite. As for the soulful murmur he offers throughout Forgetting You, Pharoah Sanders’ wistful and lyrical contributions to Floating Points’ work is a touchstone.

The two grew up down the street from each other in the northern Piedmont town of Batesville, Virginia. Their families were friends, holidays were celebrated together and they became the most loyal of pals. As children they had a pretend band.

Then life unfolded, they attended different schools and their paths diverged. Evans discovered John Coltrane and became a jazz obsessive, as Trump found punk and hardcore and later began making ambient music. As a dedicated jazz trumpeter, Evans studied formally and widely; Trump was an autodidact, teaching himself guitar and absorbing synthesis and production techniques. The late teens and very early 20s brought moves away from home and back to home, as well as plenty of listening and learning. The Covid pandemic meant an opportunity to reconnect on long walks. Through it all, together and apart, they remained reverent of each other.

By early 2023, they found themselves living again among the Blue Ridge Mountains. In the evening, after giving trumpet lessons in Charlottesville, Evans would make the eerily beautiful trek “over the mountain” to Trump’s home in Staunton, Virginia. They’d talk and eat and begin to improvise, deep into the night. Evans played trumpet and sometimes drums. (Given the wee-hours recording schedule, the neighbors didn’t appreciate the latter.) Trump plugged a rickety, junk-store Telecaster-style guitar into a cheap solid-state amp and explored open tunings; he also layered on lap steel, electric bass, synths and electronics.

They locked in and relished each other’s gifts. In Trump, those include patience and intentionality and sonic decision-making; for Evans, a distinctive trumpet sound that both musicians think of as a singer’s voice. “Will’s playing is so thoughtful and well placed,” Trump says. “My goal from a producer’s mindset is that the trumpet will occupy the space that vocals would take.”

Often, they got lost in the best way. “The thing I look for most when I’m playing is that feeling of disappearing into what you’re doing,” Evans says. “Usually when that happens, the music is good.”

By the same token, they didn’t pursue free improvisation as an ethic, or as a pure process. Their goal was something closer to spontaneous composition. “We were trying to make good songs,” Evans says simply. Later, Trump did brilliant post-production work, expanding a modest setup into an enthralling soundworld. Under his judicious editorship, music that was wholly improvised sounds at times like a carefully composed new-music commission.

The results speak for themselves. “A Happy Death” summons up a swath of American desolation through the viewfinder of Wim Wenders. “Flesh of Lost Summers” and “Partings” are highlights from an essential ECM LP that never was. “A Collapse of Horses” infuses those seminal post-rock influences with the plod of doom metal or slowcore. The album’s final track, “The Mountains Are a Dream That Calls to Me,” was in fact the first thing the duo recorded, as an evocation of those twilit drives across the Blue Ridge Mountains. “Looking back at what we chose to name the songs,” Evans says, “and some of the sounds and how they make me feel, there is an air of impermanence and loss to this album.”

“I’m excited for everything that’s to come,” he adds, “but I recently thought, ‘Damn — that’s not going to happen again.’ It was a privilege for us to have that time together.”

Our 6th vinyl only installment features four very familiar faces from the ever growing House Cookin' family.

On the A-side we have 2 young producers with an oldschool mindset when it comes to producing House tracks. Analog warmth and deep grooves that ride along some swinging percussion.
DJ Merci kicking it off with a bouncing bassline and nice deep chords. Followed by Bruno Bar, he continues the vibe with a pleasant vocal twist of the words "House Music".

On the B-Side we are joined by two fellow Belgian producers. Pat Lezizmo, providing his well known smooth vibe.
And Reagan Mian, finishing the VA with a punch!

Both originating from Basel Switzerland, experimental dance outlets Amenthia Recordings and A Walking Contradiction combine forces and present their first collaborative release. Both known for their dare-to-do-different approach and proudly presenting sounds that come from their inner circle of friends they compiled the Flash Crash / Hack Crash EP with exactly this mindset.

From Agonis' heavy stepper to Konduku's whirlpool of low frequencies on the Amenthia side with Lemont continuing on this same low-end tripped-out tip to the slo-mo swamp sounds from Varuna representing A Walking Contradiction in typical fashion.

The wild greaser with an ever-broken heart, Cong Josie, is back! His
eagerly anticipated sophomore album; Moto Zone, pulls up throbbing,
revving, sweating and grinding hotter than bitumen on a summer day
It is a non- stop EBM'in', synth- punkin', rock 'n' rollin' and doo- woppin' sizzler, in
much the same vein as his 2021 debut Cong!. With this release however, Cong
pushes his own M.O. even deeper. The throbs get bolder, the NRG goes harder,
slow sleaze hip-grinding enters and the dream washes return to envelope all that
hear them like a siren's call. On Moto Zone, Cong conjures the age of rock 'n' roll,
a world of motorcycle gangs and hot rods, leather, chains, backcombing and hair
pomade, with an Aussie twist on greaser 'cool'. Confessional lyrics tell tales of
addiction and mental illness tracing the scars of a troubled past. Cong says the
"Moto Zone" reflects his daily life and mindset. A life of ADHD, burning the
midnight oil, living on black coffee, obsessively creating and revving through
every day. Ultimately Cong is reaching for bliss, feeling connection and a new
world in these songs. Exhilarating? Anxious? Hedonistic? Dangerous? Beautiful?
A lust for life? The record is all of the above.

The wild greaser with an ever-broken heart, Cong Josie, is back! His eagerly anticipated sophomore album; Moto Zone, pulls up throbbing, revving, sweating and grinding hotter than bitumen on a summer day. It is a non-stop EBM’in’, synth-punkin’, rock ’n’ rollin’ and doo-woppin’ sizzler, in much the same vein as his 2021 debut Cong!. With this release however, Cong pushes his own M.O. even deeper. The throbs get bolder, the NRG goes harder, slow sleaze hip-grinding enters and the dream washes return to envelope all that hear them like a siren’s call. On Moto Zone, Cong conjures the age of rock ’n’ roll, a world of motorcycle gangs and hot rods, leather, chains, backcombing and hair pomade, with an Aussie twist on greaser ‘cool’. Confessional lyrics tell tales of addiction and mental illness tracing the scars of a troubled past. Cong says the “Moto Zone” reflects his daily life and mindset. A life of ADHD, burning the midnight oil, living on black coffee, obsessively creating and revving through every day. Ultimately Cong is reaching for bliss, feeling connection and a new world in these songs. Exhilarating? Anxious? Hedonistic? Dangerous? Beautiful? A lust for life? The record is all of the above.

"We had a conversation recently where we realized that we’ve been a band for almost 10 years. When we started Wild Rivers way back when, we had never played a real concert before. When we made our first record it was our first time stepping into a real studio. We barely even knew each other when we started this band. Since then we’ve played a thousand shows, recorded over 30 songs, and become a family.

When we set out to record ‘Never Better’, we felt like we were at a new stage of the band. By that point, we’d put in the hours and all began to feel totally self assured in what we were about to do. We wanted to bring everything we’ve learned over the years and all that we’ve been through as a group to the project. We chose to trust our guts and move quickly and confidently in every decision, second guessing ourselves as little as possible. In having this mindset, we were able to completely let loose and go deeper into the process, finding new ways of recording live, swapping instruments, and turning these songs on their heads. We couldn’t have made this record a few years ago.

We approached this record with the mindset, ‘this is who we are’. We aren’t pretending to be something we’re not, or trying to sound like anyone else. We wanted it to feel easy. We wanted the stories to be real. We wanted to show our true selves as best we could. We’re proud of who we’ve become as people and as a team. We truly feel like we’re having the most fun with music that we’ve ever had, and in the most exciting stage of our lives. We’re never better."