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After a series of successful outings alongside sidekicks Ofofo and Zongamin, studio wizard MYTRON turns in his debut solo full-length for Multi Culti World Records. With contributions on Invisible Inc, Calypso, Bongo Joe, Kalahari Oyster Cult, LYO, Codek Records and Earthly Measures, Mytron has carved out a name for himself in a carefully-curated left-field quadrant of the indie-dance galaxy. Tuning his oscillators to myriad sounds — from dub and disco to krautrock — the London-based producer perhaps most notably channels the pristine compositional style of Kraftwerk. While most apparent in the use of vocoder, there’s a consistent efficiency of arrangement that recalls the man-machine in effervescent, idealistic fashion. Mytron manages to keep it simple, funky and musical — whimsical tunes that bop along with analog grit, wilderness, and wonk. There’s a warmth and wit that shine through every synth line, an understated confidence that speaks of years spent tangled in wires and waveforms, with an inclusive sonic eclecticism that flattens hierarchies between genres, geographies, and generations. Each influence is invited to the table, treated not as pastiche but invited to dine and dance in a space where kosmische dub disco and Afro rhythms can coexist without borders. The sleeve design echoes this philosophy: video-feedback patterns hinting at our modern screens, both portals and filters — coloured, distorted intermediaries through which we perceive the world. In the trippiest sense, the record is both reflection and refraction — a sonic mirror held up to an interconnected, glitchy reality. Tailored equally for DJ use and home-listening head trip, the album is meticulous, mischievous and merry.

BanBanTonTon review:

On Mytron’s debut long-player for Multi Culti groovy 21st Century leftfield house gear collides with Daniele Baldelli and Beppe Loda’s hugely influential `80s afro / cosmic. The 9 tracks are chunky, chugging and full of funky, funny noises. Old school B-lines mixing with eccentric electronics. Spinning, spiralling sounds.

Sugar is an electro-pop, vocoder confection, cut from the same sonic cloth as cult classics like Codek’s Tam Tam. Created from tough trap drums, splashing effects and a mutant Giorgio Moroder bass arpeggio. The title track, Propellor, pits Kraftwerk-esque hardware harmonised vocals against a bongo loop and a whistling hook. Playground has simian shrieks surround tumbling tom-toms. Highway Maintenance adds kosmische synths to a dance of woodblocks and buzzing bottom end. Keep On Dubbing is an organ-led, clip clopping percussive canter.

Tracks such as Speaker Can Talk, shot through with disco lasers blasts and recalling Curt Cress’ Dschung Tek, also lift the tempo up, but the bulk of the music here is a mid-tempo, techno drum circle. Squelchy sequences gurgling in and out of programmed percussion. On Quasar, spiky acid edges in and slowly takes over.

Key references that come to mind are Baldelli’s own turn-of-the-2000s Cosmic Sound Project productions, and Wolf Müller’s scene shaking sides on Themes For Great Cites, from around a decade later.

Allowing yourself to find meaning or beauty in the mundane is an act of generosity, Whether it’s seeing a smiling face in an electrical outlet socket, or discerning cosmic design amidst the forest floor detritus, it comes from a place of kindness to yourself and senses – and openness to hidden spirit of the world. These tracks came together during a period of intense personal change for adaa, rooted in a fruitful reflection on the connections between spirit and body, “feeling my flesh so I can feel and understand my spirit,” as adaa puts it. The sense of a crossover and clash of multiple connected realities – on-screens, on-line, on-earth, off-world, after-life – unites adaa’s multifaceted productions.

Ostensibly an assemblage of found sounds. scribbled thoughts and poems from diaries, and musial snippets, the album's scattered production reflects adaa’s own many mirror worlds. Field recording sit behind most tracks, alongside VST synths, guitars, and a variety of voices, from adaa’s own mangled vox to EVP samples taken from YouTube (recorded sounds believed to be spirits or paranormal activity), all processed to varying degrees.

While the music was mostly produced either in adaa’s studio in Providence, Rhode Island, or in bed, the field recordings bring the outside world in. The result of walks in the woods, hum of roads and highways, hiss of beaches, warmth of walks with friends and past lovers “around the East Coast”. It sits behind tracks like ‘sight’ where a lilting piano lin bobs atop a pond of rustling and distant whistles. Is that birdsong? Or ghosts? Saccharine hyperpop arpeggiation crossfades sharply into noise guitar squall. Angelic demon voices yawn into a hefty crescendo. Pure drones duet with gales of undefinable field sounds.

“Sometimes I feel like a seed in frosted soil,” says adaa. “If i choose to be optimistic.”

"Chuck Roth’s music wanders. The New York-based guitarist’s inquisitive style builds from rippling patterns that center the physicality of his instrument, roaming wherever they take him. watergh0st songs, his Palilalia debut, collects songs from the past half-decade, presenting an intimate snapshot of his music that draws from an eclectic background in classical guitar, electronic music, and improvisation." "The mark of watergh0st songs is its exploratory nature. Roth began his musical journey as a classical guitarist studying the canon works for the instrument, but he was never interested in playing fast or flashy. Instead, he wanted to roam down musical paths and see where they led him. He eventually became more interested in electronic music, where he found inspiration in subtractive properties and patterning. The music of watergh0st songs translates that electronic music to the guitar: many of the songs began as synth tones and later branched out through the physicality of his instrument." "When writing music, Roth wants melodies to feel comfortable in the body, focused less on setting a structure and more on letting music unfold how it happens in any given moment. His songs are fluid and his melodies are clear, plucked with careful attention but never too deterministically. His is the music of a traveler, floating around the strings of the guitar. It is about embracing the banal, or the everyday moments that shape a life." "Though Roth’s music often feels quite direct, there is a dreaminess that lives inside of it. His lyrics don’t feel too hot or cold, instead they have a wistfulness and melancholy of what it feels like to live through every passing day. His exploratory style bolsters these lyrics, giving the music its sense of ennui, as does his focus on texture. Each track takes on a different structure: 'Bunny Hop' unfolds like a squirrel jumping from branch to branch of a tree, while 'Private Boy' has a slower approach, growing from delayed harmonics that almost sound like bowed strings. His textures range from metallic and bristling to soft and feathery, evolving with gentleness. It is about ending up somewhere different than where it started, and watching the notes that fall in-between." The embrace of the routine colors Roth’s music. In it, there is a sense of presence, of admiring the smallest details and moments. Roth loves to take walks and look around, observing the beauty of his surroundings. Similarly, watergh0st songs feels like moving through the world at the pace of a comfortable trot and soaking in every sound as it emerges. It is a quiet evolution—but one that stays."—Vanessa Ague

From the opening notes – arriving as if in mid-air – to its final, cheerful burblings, Sean Mac Erlaine and Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh’s Old Segotia is an album about friendship: both musical and human, the product of two distinctive musicians visiting each other’s worlds with a sense of veneration, and a sense of joyful wonder.
Here, Mac Erlaine (This is How We Fly, Quiet Music Ensemble) and Ó Raghallaigh (The Gloaming, This is How We Fly) meet on common ground developed over 20 years of playing together, with Mac Erlaine’s musical language rooted in jazz and sonic experimentation, and Ó Raghallaigh emerging from an Irish traditional music that he has shaped and reshaped in a deeply personal way.
In this place, Mac Erlaine and Ó Raghallaigh’s music is profoundly integrated and emotionally textured: at times bursting with explosive energy, at times almost sighing into life, but always searching. Here are the touching unison duets of ‘Cantandor’, the lyrical wanderings of ‘Swallow Dive’, or the flirtations with finding a groove in ‘Reverse Burst’.
The palette of instruments speaks to the album’s feeling of abundance, with Mac Erlaine performing on clarinets, chalumeau d’amore, three different flutes, car hooter, percussion, live electronics, Wurlitzer, synthesiser, vocals and alto saxophone; and with Ó Raghallaigh bringing his signature hardanger d’amore sound plus a turn on the flute and live electronics, too.
With the title echoing a well-worn Dublinese expression for “friend”, Old Segotia plays out with ‘Oiche Crua Sna Sleibhte’ (A Hard Night in the Mountains), with ornithologist Seán Ronayne’s field recordings of birdsong rising out of the musicians’ playful explorations, offering a taste of life echoing music, echoing life.

From the heart of Tamanrasset in South Algeria, Imarhan transcend Tuareg tradition, weaving hypnotic synths into desert blues. The result is a timeless work—deeply respectful of their roots, yet alive with a stirring sense of modernity.

ESSAM is the band’s fourth album, recorded with the same core lineup, but marks a significant shift in their sound and approach. Musically, it marks a departure from the rocky, bluesy, psychedelic Tuareg guitar-driven sound influenced by Tinariwen’s heritage — moving toward something more open, modern, and exploratory.
For the first time, their long-time sound engineer Maxime Kosinetz stepped in as producer. He travelled to Tamanrasset with Emile Papandreou (of the French duo UTO), a multi-instrumentalist who introduced electronic elements by sampling live instruments and reprocessing them in real time with a modular synthesizer — subtly reshaping the band's sonic identity.
The album was recorded mostly live, in one big room at Aboogi Studio — the band’s own rehearsal and recording space in Tamanrasset. The studio, a converted concert hall, has become a kind of cultural hub for the local youth. Friends dropped by during the sessions to contribute handclaps, vocals, and just be part of the energy. It’s a space where people gather, hang out, play dominoes, smoke chicha — a rare communal spot in a city that doesn’t offer many for young people, somewhat like a youth and community center.
This context — the creative shift, the live recording process, the atmosphere around Aboogi — might be interesting threads to explore in the conversation.

Vintage recording equipment has long been a bit of a fetish, but to sound pioneers Voka Gentle, even the most magical machines are a means to an end. The band, made up of twins Ellie and Imogen Mason, along with Imogen’s husband, William J Stokes, are a family band in the truest sense. Whilst they started as a folk trio, their new album Domestic Bliss is an album of throat-grabbing, avant-garde indie rock songs studded with eccentric choices: a synth with its keys jammed, playing a tune of its own making; field recordings – Morris dancers, motorbikes – captured on binaural headphones.

Domestic Bliss is concerned with power: the abuse of it, being on the cusp of it, and what it really means. The album is
teaming with imaginary people in picaresque scenes that reveal the band’s rich cultural storehouse. The songs draw on history, literature, everyday life and pop culture references (specifically Jude Law’s 1995 Vogue cover), with tracks like Cheddar Man reflecting on climate change and prehistory and Creon I tracing the unease of authority through the lens of Greek mythology.

Recorded in the orchestral studios of City University, the album folds intimacy into scale, from phone-recorded vocals and samples of breath to heavy, tribal electronics in grand acoustic spaces. The result is by far their most refined record yet, where the band treat the recording studio like an instrument.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John Twells, 2025

Una interpretación de Soinuarenbidea II debería partir de esta premisa: todo es posible, nada es aleatorio, y en sí mismo es un imposible de aleatoriedades. El escenario planteado explora la idea de realidad aumentada desde una percepción sonora, ambiental y colectiva. La obra transita hacia adelante y hacia atrás recreando experiencias extintas de porvenir incierto, tratando de facilitar un fin pacificador. Cada pieza sonora se crea, se despliega, se repliega y se destruye, en una torsión permanente de toda la realidad que hace posible cada fragmento musical, cada identidad acústica, cada espacio sonoro. Lo onírico, la ficción, y el viaje están continuamente presentes, y es en el transitar de cada fragmento donde se produce el diálogo de la exposición musical. Los elementos de esta ficción se recrean continuamente, en un continuum donde se entrelazan y se van contorsionando a medida que crecen o decrecen con cada fragmento de síntesis concreta. Los temas explícitamente musicales son el magma que conduce a dar voluptuosidad al disco, siendo la piel un contexto o límite que en sí mismo fluctúa indefinidamente en texturas y configuraciones posibles. Y la urdimbre del silencio es la síntesis que está continuamente presente y que trata de cohesionar los fragmentos en continua colisión expresiva. Las grabaciones de campo proporcionan el material sonoro concreto, y como un fractal sonoro cada una de ellas ofrece diferentes grados de interpretación que a su vez conduce a nuevos fragmentos y nuevas creaciones. Así que se puede pensar que esta es una síntesis de una posible realidad, pero interpretable en infinidad de maneras. Un movimiento y una estaticidad implícitas que generan estructuras y dinámicas acústicas. Lo que se escucha no es real, pero en sí mismo forma parte de la realidad, creando un escenario expectante. Lo cinematográfico, plástico y teatral, danzante y dinámico cobra importancia en este juego, porque se trata de contar una historia, una experiencia recreada desde los puntos de vista del arte visual. Es a su vez hilo conductor y entretenimiento, discurso político y puro divertimento. Es desde este espacio de convivencia artística que tiene sentido la totalidad y justifica el formato sonoro planteado. La contradicción de la obra es patente en el formato, y es a su vez el planteamiento de una accidentalidad en el devenir vital. Contenedor de Ruido recoge todas estas contradicciones y las manifiesta en la obra Soinuarenbidea II. Es una historia sonora, es un cuento acústico. Es un fragmento de vitalidad en imágenes audibles. Es una invitación a la reflexión, a la crítica, al disfrute, a la meditación, a la celebración. Y sobre todo es esperanzadora apreciación de la realidad como algo maleable que confeccionamos colectivamente, que requiere de una paciente observación y la participación colectiva global, en un mundo finito pleno de diversidades y del que ignoramos prácticamente todo, al que deberíamos volver con respeto y devoción.

Soinuarenbidea II-ren interpretazio batek premisa honetatik abiatu beharko luke: dena da posible, ezer ez da ausazkoa, eta, berez, ausazkotasun ezinezko bat da. Planteatutako agertokiak errealitate areagotuaren ideia aztertzen du, soinu-, ingurumen- eta talde-pertzepzio batetik abiatuta. Lanak aurrera eta atzera egiten du, etorkizun zalantzagarriko esperientzia desagertuak birsortuz eta helburu baketsua lortzen saiatuz. Soinu-pieza bakoitza sortu, hedatu, tolestu eta suntsitu egiten da, musika-zati bakoitza, identitate akustiko bakoitza eta soinu-espazio bakoitza ahalbidetzen dituen errealitate osoaren etengabeko bihurdura batean. Onirikoa, fikzioa eta bidaia etengabe daude presente, eta pasarte bakoitzaren joan-etorrian gertatzen da musika-erakusketaren elkarrizketa. Fikzio honen elementuak etengabe birsortzen dira, continuum batean, non sintesi zati zehatz bakoitzarekin hazi edo txikitu ahala elkar lotzen eta bihurritzen diren. Esplizituki musikalak diren gaiak diskoari atsegintasuna ematera eramaten duen magma dira, azala testuingurua edo muga izanik, testura eta konfigurazio posibleetan mugarik gabe aldatzen dena. Eta isiltasunaren irazkia etengabe presente dagoen sintesia da, zatiak etengabeko adierazpen-talkan kohesionatzen saiatzen dena. Landa-grabazioek soinu-material zehatza ematen dute, eta soinu-fraktal batek bezala, horietako bakoitzak interpretazio-maila desberdinak eskaintzen ditu, eta horrek, aldi berean, zati eta sorkuntza berrietara eramaten du. Beraz, pentsa daiteke errealitate posible baten sintesia dela, baina hamaika modutan interpreta daitekeena. Egitura eta dinamika akustikoak sortzen dituzten mugimendu eta estatikotasun inplizitu bat. Entzuten dena ez da erreala, baina, berez, errealitatearen parte da, eta agertoki espektakularra sortzen du. Zinematografikoak, plastikoak eta antzerkikoak, dantzariak eta dinamikoak garrantzia hartzen dute joko honetan, ikusizko artearen ikuspegitik birsortutako istorio bat, esperientzia bat, kontatzea baita helburua. Aldi berean, hari gidaria eta entretenimendua da, diskurtso politikoa eta dibertimendu hutsa. Elkarbizitzarako espazio artistiko honetatik osotasunak zentzua du eta planteatutako soinu-formatua justifikatzen du. Obraren kontraesana nabarmena da formatuan, eta, aldi berean, bizi-bilakaeran istripu-tasa bat planteatzea da. Zarata-edukiontziak kontraesan horiek guztiak jasotzen ditu eta Soinuarenbidea II obran adierazten ditu. Soinu istorio bat da, ipuin akustiko bat. Bizitasun zati bat da, irudi entzungarrietan. Hausnarketarako, kritikarako, gozamenerako, meditaziorako eta ospakizunerako gonbidapena da. Eta, batez ere, itxaropentsua da errealitatea modu kolektiboan egiten dugun gauza xaflakor gisa hautematea, behaketa pazientea eta partaidetza kolektibo globala eskatzen dituena, dibertsitatez betetako mundu mugatu batean, ia guztia kontuan hartzen ez duguna, eta errespetuz eta debozioz itzuli beharko genukeena.

An interpretation of Soinuarenbidea II should start from this premise: everything is possible, nothing is random, and in itself is an impossible randomness. The proposed scenario explores the idea of ​​augmented reality from a sonic, environmental, and collective perception. The work moves back and forth, recreating extinct experiences of an uncertain future, seeking to facilitate a peaceful end. Each sound piece is created, unfolds, retreats, and is destroyed, in a permanent twisting of all reality that makes each musical fragment, each acoustic identity, each sonic space possible. The dreamlike, the fictional, and the journey are continually present, and it is in the transit of each fragment that the dialogue of the musical exposition takes place. The elements of this fiction are continually recreated, in a continuum where they intertwine and contort as they grow or diminish with each fragment of concrete synthesis. The explicitly musical themes are the magma that leads to the work's voluptuousness, the skin being a context or boundary that in itself fluctuates indefinitely in possible textures and configurations. And the warp of silence is the synthesis that is continually present and seeks to unite the fragments in a continuous expressive collision. The field recordings provide the concrete sound material, and like a sonic fractal, each one offers different degrees of interpretation that in turn lead to new fragments and new creations. So one can think of this as a synthesis of a possible reality, but interpretable in an infinite number of ways. An implicit movement and staticity that generate acoustic structures and dynamics. What is heard is not real, but in itself is part of reality, creating an expectant scenario. The cinematic, plastic and theatrical, dance and dynamic aspects take on importance in this game, because it is about telling a story, an experience recreated from the perspective of visual art. It is at once a common thread and entertainment, political discourse and pure entertainment. It is from this space of artistic coexistence that the whole makes sense and justifies the proposed sound format. The contradiction of the work is evident in its format, and it is, in turn, the presentation of an accidentality in the course of life. Noise Container gathers all these contradictions and manifests them in the work Soinuarenbidea II. It is a sound story, an acoustic tale. It is a fragment of vitality in audible images. It is an invitation to reflection, to critique, to enjoyment, to meditation, to celebration. And above all, it is a hopeful appreciation of reality as something malleable that we collectively craft, requiring patient observation and global collective participation, in a finite world full of diversity and of which we know practically nothing, to which we should return with respect and devotion.

Paisajes sonoros, diseño sonoro, drones y música grabada, realizada y arreglada para Contenedor de Ruido por David Aranaz. Coro: Basandere Ahotsak. Producido y mezclado por David Aranaz. Mástering: Estanis Elorza. Fotografía: David Aranaz. Texto: David Aranaz. Traducción: Saioa Aranaz Oreja. Trabajo y Diseño artístico: Cristina Martinez. Edición: Contenedor de Ruido Producciones y Sarbide Music. Distribución: Contenedor de Ruido.

Contenedor de Ruido agradece el apoyo en la realización de Soinuarenbidea II al coro Basandere Ahotsak y en especial a Eva Orbara Goicoa.

Soinuarenbidea II está dedicado al pueblo palestino.

Paisajes y objetos Sonoros, samplers y otras músicas transformadas para Soinuarenbidea II
Burlada: Paseos sonoros matinales por Merindad de Sangüesa, Calle Mayor, Capuchinas, Parque Uranga y varias iglesias y plazas. Pasajes del cotidiano: basura de papel, cristal y plástico.
Pamplona: Cementerio de San José. CEIP Sanduzelai /// Quinto Real: Fábrica de Armas, Puerto de Urkiaga y alrededores. Suite del silencio, bosques en movimiento /// Fábrica de armas de Orbaiceta: regatas, biosques, paseo sonoro hasta regata /// Belate: Puerto de Belate y alrededores. Vacas en pradera junto a las turberas /// Bardenas Reales: Suite de guitarra y Suite del silencio, estepa desértica /// Austria: Tranvías de Graz y Viena. Muchedumbre del metro de Viena.
Voces cinematográficas de: Matanza en Texas, Robocop, Espíritu Sagrado, Solo los Amantes Sobreviven, Voces de Gaza, Yojimbo, Terciopelo Azul, Los 7 Magníficos.
La pista A2 está dedicada a la memoria de David Lynch.
La pista B4 está dedicada a Eva Orbara Goicoa.
Pista A4: Contiene interpretaciones de piano de Three Piano Pieces Op.11 de Arnold Schoenberg.
Pista A5: Es una interpretación expandida con síntesis FM del Concerto Op. 24 - Etwas lebhaft - de Anton Webern.
Pista A7: Contiene la canción Besarkatu ninduzun (Letra de Josune López y música de Josu Elberdin) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak en la iglesia de Burutain bajo la tormenta.
Pista B2: Contiene la canción Recuerdos de la Alhambra (Fernando Tárrega) en interpretación torsionada de David Aranaz Sarasa.
Pista B14: Contiene la canción Agur María (Letra y Música de Estíbaliz Robles “Estitxu” y arreglo exclusivo de Alfonso Ortiz para Basandere Ahotsak) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak.

Equipamiento para Soinuarenbidea II.
Micros de condensador SE7, configuración XY y ORTF; Micros de cinta ORTIZ LUTHIER configuración XY y Blumlein; Grabadoras MARANTZ y ZOOM; Sintetizadores y samplers Elektron MONOMACHINE SPS-1, MACHINEDRUM SFX6 y MODEL:SAMPLES. Dave Smith MOPHO. Torso Electronics S-4. Sintetizador Modular 333 DIY; Guitarra clásica ALHAMBRA 6P; Esculturas Sonoras tipo Baschet, cristal y metales; Mesa Soundcraft FX16ii; Interface de Audio RME Babyface Pro FS; DAW Logic Pro; Procesamiento de modelado analógico con Acústica Audio, Waves, Softube, Brainworx, Sonible, Analog Obsesion, Tokio Dawn. Metering de Logic y RME DigiCheck . Amplificación Hafler PRO2400. Monitorización BW DM602 S3. Mezcla digital; Mastering híbrido.

Two years after their debut on Berlin-based Mannequin Records, Parisian duo Leroy Se Meurt returns with their second full-length album, Hier Pour Toujours. Far from any sense of nostalgia, this record offers no illusion of hope—history repeats itself, the future looks bleak, and their brand of electronic punk is the perfect soundtrack to it all.Drum machines dictate the pace while synths saturate the space, looping sequences grind relentlessly, and vocals lead this machine orchestra straight into the heart of the chaos. Drawing from their roots, Leroy Se Meurt pushes their fierce electronics further than ever—experimenting with bold slogans, spoken passages, and powerful sing-along choruses.The album opens with Pas Ma Croix, a commanding anthem built for the stage. It flows into Du Plafond à La Terre, driven by a monstrous electro beat and bassline, flirting with emotional vulnerability in its chorus before exploding into a synth solo. Alevlere Karşı once again taps into the duo’s EBM-meets-Turkish vocals signature style, hitting the mark with dancefloor precision.The title track, Hier Pour Toujours, closes side A with a more intimate, drumless moment—solemn but no less intense.That brief calm is shattered by Déviance, marking the return of guitars and an eruptive chorus brimming with raw energy. From there, the album launches into the furious Révolte Ardente, with its syncopated rhythm and vocals drenched in distortion, and continues with Pro Déclin, a stripped-down rhythmic skeleton carrying anti-growth mantras straight to the point. In a world clouded by confusion, the most direct messages often land the hardest.For a change of scenery, Fütürsüz dives into John Carpenter-esque territory—no drums, eerie night-streaked synths, and, for the first time in the band’s history, nearly clean vocals.Closing the record, Encore crawls at a BPM so slow it’s nearly in reverse. But what it lacks in speed, it makes up for in weight—a crushing incantation capable of toppling sound systems.With Hier Pour Toujours, Leroy Se Meurt isn’t offering optimism, but rather persistence. Nothing is settled yet—and perhaps, just perhaps—there’s still light at the end of the tunnel.

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Dan Piu wrote this album during the "dark, dystopian times" of the last year. The record's themes take in nature, human life, sci-fi, cyborgs and plenty in between with opener 'Tru Confession' being a robust house track stacked with throwback breaks, futuristic synths and old school vocals. There is a real warmth and soul to the machine sounds of 'Un-X-Plored Exodus' while a certain sense of 90s New York house colours 'Upgrade System M59'. 'System Of Ethics' shows off a fine mastery of synth craft that brims with emotion and 'Asteroid Blues' is like a lost Kerri Chandler cut. Essential.

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

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

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

Brad Rose, 2025

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

KEG announce new EP Girders set for release September 2nd on Alcopop! Records/BMG. The band also share the frenzied and whip-smart new single Kids. The band, who have been hotly tipped across the board for 2022, will also play their debut UK headline tour plus festivals which include Green Man, End Of The Road, Latitude and more. Kids strides into the deep lineage of British art-punk songwriting that is both self-referencing and outward-facing - while being consistently innovative. Few singles manage to take aim at both the restaurant chain Itsu and the comedian Michael McIntyre, but KEG somehow pull it off.

Following a widely successful debut single release Heyshaw in the summer of 2021, KEG saw major support from publications such as NME, DIY, Dork, So Young, Clash etc. Leading into their debut EP Assembly, released October 2021, KEG toured with contemporaries such as Squid and Talk Show.

KEG are a seven piece. Albert (vocals), Joel (bass) & Will (synth) grew up together around the seaside Yorkshire town of Bridlington; and like many artists growing up in removed quarters of the country, they shared a yearning to leave. Spreading to different parts of the country after leaving school, they found their bandmates in their respective cities and found one another once again on the southern shores of Brighton.
Frank (guitar), whose background resides mostly in hip-hop, afforded a unique pulse with a guitar sound which is manic, discordant but firm. Jules (guitar) whose songwriting sensibilities come from a love of cadence and craft of beautiful soul ballads, imbued the band with his structured sense of composition. Both Charlie (trombone & shell) and Johnny (drums) come from classically trained Jazz backgrounds.
The announcement will receive digital marketing support and will launch with new tour dates announced (below) with pre-order for presale access available.

Next up on Fluid Electronics, Irish producer Derek Carr joins up the fold with his “Harvest Time EP”, featuring Dutch techno staple Deniro on remix duty. Carr’s style, stretching from low-slung techno to squelchy electro, via breaks and chiselled IDM, teleports us to a zero-G headspace where shape and substance merge into an effervescing and highly stimulating maelstrom of sound. The very idea of self-reflexive dance music.

Fusing sino-flavoured harmonics with a straight out hi-tech edge, the lead single “Harvest Time” is the perfect balance between body and soul music, as it elegantly bridges the gap between that sense of weightless vaporousness and a more tactile punch. Pace itself feels relative. In the hands of Deniro, the track hatches into an eerily haunting piece of cinematic electronics, stressing further on the contrasting batucada-esque rhythms and slo-scudding synth tapestry.

The Italo-indebted “Dust Yourself Down” takes Moroder on a ride by the seashore, all arps and heavily processed keys blazing. Dipped in acid, “Rhea” pulls out a cascade of pretty aggro snares, prismatic bleeps, bloops, and a healthy dose of post-trancey waves crashing against a glassy sound design.

House of Harm are proud to announce the forthcoming release of their new album Playground, out December 1st, 2023. The new record builds and expands upon the three-piece’s enthralling shadow-pop sound, a mix of midnight atmospherics, 90s era jangle pop, and contagious synth drenched hooks that further elevate the transcendent vocals of lead singer Michael Rocheford. Rounded out by Cooper Leardi (guitar / synths) and Tyler Kershaw (guitar / synth), House of Harm have amassed an impressive following as something of a best kept secret among their growing fanbase, leading to sold out shows on both coasts by the power of word of mouth alone.

The band members have been drawn to music for as long as any of them can remember, and the drive to be around like-minded artists and make their own noise drew them all to Boston after high school. There they all quickly enmeshed themselves, playing in other bands before meeting each other. Ever since, House of Harm have been quietly making a name for themselves among music fans with darker pop persuasions via a steady stream of releases in single, ep and album form.

That attention to detail and workmanlike approach at the expense of chasing instant gratification seems to be paying dividends after years of steady effort. The journey of their new album Playground saw House of Harm stay true to that ethos. The band painstakingly narrowed the record down to an efficient 10 tracks that they felt made the most sense, both standing on their own as well as fitting into an LP that built a cohesive world for the listener to get lost in. The album’s name also reflects the experimentation and happy accidents that came about during the writing and recording process.

On “The Face of Grace” they set out to explore different dynamics by writing a song entirely without drums, but couldn’t help themselves from putting emphasis on the song’s 6/8 waltz time signature. “Two Kinds” is another first for House Of Harm in that it’s predominantly driven by acoustic guitar. That aforementioned vulnerability shows up in other areas of the songwriting process as well with “Two Kinds”, one of their most revealing songs to date from a lyrical standpoint, written from a place of reflection and weakness and tackling feelings uneasy to be put on display for public consumption.

Taken as a whole, the end result is an album representing a collection of the band’s most raw and expressive songs yet.

Alvorada is Montanha’s first long play: an ambient-leaning work, nocturnal in mood yet touched by electricity, tracing a journey from waking activity into dream logic. Recorded mostly in the late hours of the evening with windows open to the city, letting its air and sounds influence the music, it sometimes reached the early moments of sunrise. The title, meaning “dawn,” reflects both the liminal hours of its making and the band’s own renewal. These tracks are closer to drawings than songs: narratives written between instruments, moments of tension and release, fragments of memory and dream. The tracklist follows this nocturnal voyage with the patience of Eno, the disquiet of Uematsu, and the madness of Miles Davis’ Decoy, oscillating between streets and sleep, routine and reverie.

Montanha was formed in 2010 by André Azevedo, Nuno Oliveira, João Sarnadas, and Tito Silva, bonding over architecture school all-nighters on videogame soundtracks (Age of Empires, Super Mario). They began as a psychedelic rock combo and in 2013 released their self-titled EP which introduced a raw, improvised energy. But the album that was meant to follow was abandoned as the band entered hiatus. The four members turned their creative drive towards co-founding Favela Discos, where experimentation with media and form reshaped their ideas of music, and developed their taste, their way of playing, and a more personal sound that was more open and disconnected from a defined genre.

By 2017, Montanha had returned to the studio with new experience, no longer a rock band in the traditional sense but a project devoted to improvisation and electronic soundscapes. An ever gentrifying city forced them to abandon acoustic drums, and they embraced electronic beats instead, and became mobile; one guitar dissolved into full synths, leaving the other to converse with bass. Improvisation remained their compass. In improvisation there are no mistakes, only missed opportunities. Montanha found their opportunity in the routine of the studio to break routines of pop and experimental. The result is a body of nearly fifty hours of recordings, sculpted into an album.

Alvorada is not only Montanha’s first LP but also the dawn of their new phase. Improvised yet carefully sculpted, the record expands the territory of the song into nonlinear narratives, letting the language of night, dream, and city seep into its form.

Astropolis Records — the label born from the legendary electronic French festival — celebrates a decade of electronic devotion with a generous and deeply emotional anniversary compilation - a bit late, but never short on flair.

This double vinyl gathers the many faces of the Astropolis galaxy: in-house artists, long-time companions of the festival, and rising voices from a perpetually vibrant French scene. Across 18 artists, listeners are invited on a sonic journey where rave legacy, electronic dreamscapes, and collective fervor intertwine — true to the DNA of a festival that’s never known boundaries.



The record opens with grace and wonder courtesy of Rone, whose electronic touch channels both the intimate and the infinite. Between electronica and downtempo, The Dolphin Ambassador bathes in luminous melancholy, offering a moment of calm before the storm. In the same contemplative vein, we’re proud to unveil one of the first productions from Célélé alongside Théo Muller: Drum and Drift, a subtle blend of dubby vibrations and sunlit textures.


Astropolis has always thrived on happy collisions — and this compilation is proof of it. The unlikely meeting between Mézigue and Swooh sends house spiraling into a g-tech vortex on Broken Roll To Venice, a playful burst of groove, hybrid energy, and cheeky mischief. The same spirit of alchemy fuels Belaria & Madben, whose Into The Void burns bright as a 90s rave-meets-EBM anthem wrapped in hypnotic trance. Zaatar & Trunkline bring raw intensity to Come Into The Light, a sweaty, visceral banger at the crossroads of techno, dark disco, and EBM.


French techno pillars Scan X & Electric Rescue deliver a masterclass in elegant machine soul on Lost In Time. When Manu Le Malin teams up with Kmyle, the result is as sharp as it is cinematic: Little Big Man pulses with dramatic tension, balancing raw emotion and restrained fury. Elsewhere, Oniris & Benjamin Rippert reconnect with the melodic techno spirit of the label’s early days on Sonate, guided by a craftsman’s sense of harmony.
For the machine lovers, Legowelt & Cuften resurrect the spirit of early electroclash on Liar, a carnal fusion of analog synths and DIY attitude. And for the diehard dancefloor devotees, KiNK finally releases a cult track from his live sets: Give Me, a breakbeat-meets-vintage-house stormer tailor-made for those late-night sweats.

This anniversary compilation reaffirms the label’s openness to new generations and hybrid sounds, while paying tribute to the techno roots that shaped its foundation. Like the festival itself, it embodies sincerity and collective energy — a small manifesto linking generations, aesthetics, and territories, celebrating roots without nostalgia and the future without bending to trends.

Hot on the heels of Luv (LuvLuv) comes a sublime new Drum Chums from midland's madlads Wrekin Havoc.
Over the years we've shared great tunes, fun times and A-grade dance floor debauchery with these permanent party people (our first encounter almost exactly like that Spiderman pointing meme) so it made more sense than we usually do to invite them aboard the V*nga bus for some Balearic-Disco edit excellence.

Things kick off with the sexy throb of 'Shine A Light', a stonewashed funk workout complete with Paisley guitars, Troutman bass grunts and some big time blue-eyed soul vocals. It's a bit like an extended and unheard collaboration between George Michael and Tears For Fears recorded immediately after a particularly heavy night at Future. Unsurprising perhaps that this one's been getting a whole lot of love from DJ Harvey.

'Mars Bar Party' grabs you by the hips from the first bar of its swaying Mediterranean house rhythm, then tugs at every single one of your heartstrings with melancholic pads and a silken vocal croon. Fuuuuuuckin' hell! Sorry, was totally bewitched by the primal power of piano house magic - it's like John Rocca was in the room for a second. Armed with an awesome arrangement and clocking in at ten massive minutes, this may be the ultimate Balearic house journey.

If all this wasn't enough to have you stocking up on 5-HTP and sinus rinse, those crafty cats close the set out with the shimmering disco euphoria of 'Leccy Meet Her'. The bottom end pulses endlessly, Cowley synths trill and a crystal clear Vox soar above, sending us far off into mirrorball orbit. If this isn't a hit at Horse Meat, we'll neck a bottle of poppers and never eat a tomato again.

Each and every track Wrekin Havoc touch is a pearler, but we're particularly chuffed with ourselves for snapping this top trio up.

100% Drum Fun Guaranteed. .

Recordings from the Åland Islands, the duo debut by synthesist Jeremiah Chiu and violist Marta Sofia Honer, is a truly unique series of pieces that marry acoustic and electronic sounds with field recordings, all captured on a trip to the titular Baltic archipelago.
By the time Åland Islands was released in 2022, Honer had already been working with Makaya McCraven and Daniel Villarreal, but this project brought her to the front as a lead artist. And Åland Islands was the label's first collaboration of any kind with Chiu, who has since released the solo outing In Electric Time and the genre-breaking debut of his co-led supergroup SML, in addition to a trio album with Honer and the late Ariel Kalma (2024's The Closest Thing to Silence).

Recordings from the Åland Islands is far more than its context within the world of IARC, however, and it’s certainly more than its context as a travel document. Here Chiu and Honer have created a new world out of an old one with work that sees them in dialogue with their own source material. Like early masterpieces by Franco Battiato or Alvin Lucier, Åland Islands repeatedly presents the listener with a palpable sense of place, only to pluck them up and drop them into an entirely new one.
“...so tranquil and beautiful...” – Jayson Greene, Pitchfork

T.O.Y.'s new album, The Prophet, is passion, history, a vintage museum, and full of great songs that are waiting to be heard. T.O.Y. is a German synthpop and futurepop band founded in 2001 by Volker Lutz. Highlights include collaborations with Alphaville's singer Marian Gold ("Turn On!") and FAITHLESS drummer Andy Treacey ("Silent Soldiers"), blending T.O.Y.'s atmospheric sound with iconic voices from the electronic music scene. "The Prophet is something truly special. During the Corona pandemic, wrapped in isolation, we all needed consistency, a sense of comfort, and security. I found that feeling through sounds--the sounds I have known my whole life: the music of the 80s. Courageously and full of ideas, one song after another emerged. Motivated by the wonderful collaboration and friendship with Alphaville frontman Marian Gold, who kept encouraging me with words about how good this record was, the pandemic passed, and so did one year after another. Through my friendship with Faithless drummer Andy Treacey, I got in touch with Jonathan White, also a member of the Faithless family. A true genius on bass in live performances, he became part of the album as well." - Volker Lutz