Cerca:synth sense

Debuting on Curvature with an impressively deep EP, Reviver delivers a sound that aligns perfectly with the core ethos of the Spatial family - incredible atmospherics and classic breakbeats.

A1 - Call From Space
Opening the EP we are treated to a DJ-friendly intro with thick breaks and crackly backdrops reminiscent of classic sci-fi movies with a slightly oppressive aura. A tapestry of melodies created from intertwining synths and samples follows, as Reviver tells a story of intrigue and redemption through this wonderful medium - a
stunning, rousing melody soon develops and elevates things to otherworldly levels for the latter stages. Quite simply, you've got to hear this.

A2 - Way Of Paradox
Old-school, finely edited breaks open a DJ-friendly intro to Way Of Paradox, a track which quickly builds a darkly suspenseful vibe through synths and pads, rising and swirling across the soundscape with mystique and a sullen vigor, before a mournfully intense earworm melody joins the proceedings. The atmosphere builds and envelops the listener like gathering storm clouds leaving this one etched firmly in the memory.

B1 - Define Or Destroy
Strap in as there is no let up with the intensity - Reviver unleashes Define or Destroy which sees that classic amen break deftly programmed with a variety of filtering and editing techniques on show, while sumptuous operatic female vocals add further depth along with melodic keys. This track rolls and rolls with the best of
them as you appreciate the subtleties of Reviver's varied edits with each listen.

B2 - Journey Alone
Generating an immediate sense of unease straight out of The X Files with delicate pads and synths, Reviver closes the EP in style, serving up a track dripping with atmosphere and intrigue. A wonderfully old-school breakbeat drives proceedings along with sparse kicks and excitable snares, patterns filtered to perfection with swirling micro melodies adding layer upon layer to an already impressive piece. A fitting end to an incredibly intense EP.

The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die return October 17 with Dreams of Being Dust, an album that finds the Connecticut-formed collective plumbing the depths of emotional ruin and emerging with their most scorched, unrelenting work yet. Co-produced by guitarist Chris Teti (Fiddlehead, Anxious) and Greg Thomas (END, Misery Signals), the album exchanges the band"s usual sprawl for something more serrated-folding djent-like heft and post-hardcore volatility into their post-everything DNA. Dreams of Being Dust is the band"s fifth studio album, and follows up their well- received 2021 album, Illusory Walls, which arrived as their "heaviest, proggiest, most audacious release to date" according to Stereogum. Tackling complex social and political themes like religion and capitalism, Pitchfork praised its scathing indictments as "fuming with resentment for the ruthless greed and self-interest fueling societal collapse. If Illusory Walls was their grand reckoning, Dreams Of Being Dust is the aftermath: raw, furious, alive. But even amid the chaos, the band"s core remains intact-a belief in community, resistance, and making sense of the world through sheer volume and vulnerability. TWIABP have always blurred the lines between hope and despair, and here, that duality feels sharper than ever. Now a decade in, the band- David F. Bello (vocals), Chris Teti (guitar/ vocals), Joshua Cyr (bass), Katie Dvorak (synth/vocals), Steven K. Buttery (drums), and Anthony Gesa (guitar/ vocals)-deliver a message that sounds less like a eulogy and more like a rallying cry.

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by."

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

Returning to Die Schachtel with his fourth full-length with the label, the Genoa born, Bologna based, guitarist and electroacoustic composer, Stefano Pilia, delivers “Lacinia”, a new, immersive cycle of compositions, delving deeper into the realm of metaphysical, spiritual, and divine meaning, weaving astounding arrangements of sonority from a palette of synths, strings, brass, organ, various electroacoustic instruments, and percussion. Resting at a refined intersection of the acoustic and electroacoustic, drone, and chamber music - overwhelmingly beautiful, delicate, and bold, - “Lacinia” stands as a high-water mark in Pilia’s already remarkable and forward-looking career.

Since its founding in Milan during the early years of the new millennium, Die Schachtel has occupied a singular place in the landscape of experimental music, issuing a carefully curated body of reissues and archival releases by historically significant figures and projects like Christina Kubisch, Luciano Cilio, Marino Zuccheri, Prima Materia, Claudio Rocchi, Lino Capra Vaccina, Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza, Roland Kayn, and numerous others, balanced against bristling contemporary counterparts by the likes of Jim O'Rourke, Giovanni Di Domenico, Nicola Ratti, Luigi ArchettI, Valerio Tricoli, etc. Running like a spine through the label’s output is a deep dedication to the work of the Italian guitarist and electroacoustic composer Stefano Pilia. Now Die Schachtel returns with “Lacinia”, Pilia’s forth full-length with the label and their first release of 2024. Building on the ground of deeply personal engagement with metaphysical, spiritual, and divine meaning, explored within his previous LP with Die Schachtel, 2022’s “Spiralis Aurea”, “Lacinia” encounters the composer working in close calibration with various ensembles, including the Bologna based Ensemble Concordanze and Comunale di Bologna String Orchestra, weaving synths, strings, brass, organ, various electroacoustic instruments, and percussion into an astounding reconfiguration of immersive, contemporary minimalism that stands among Pilia’s most noteworthy releases to date. Issued by Die Schachtel in two special double vinyl editions and a CD edition, “Lacinia” features artwork by Bruno Stucchi/Dinamomilano, and is an absolute marvel that draws you in and doesn’t let go.

First emerging during the early 2000s, over the past two decades – via solo releases and numerous collations with artists like Oren Ambarchi, Valerio Tricoli, Alessandra Novaga, Z'EV, Andrea Belfi, David Grubbs, and numerous others - the Genoa born, Bologna based, guitarist and electroacoustic composer, Stefano Pilia has presented a singular voice within Italian experimental music, harnessing visceral energy and hands-on immediacy within delicately woven tapestries of sonority, each investigating the sculptural properties of sound and illuminating its relationship to space, memory, and the suspension of time. “Lacinia”, Pilia’s forth solo venture with Die Schachtel, encounters the composer reentering his longstanding practice of collaboration with various ensemble forms, including the Bologna based Ensemble Concordanze, for the albums central piece, “Lacinia Off Axis”, spinning stunning string confirmations by Pietro David Carami and Elena Maury on violin, Alessandro Savio on viola, and Mattia Cipolli on cello.

A new, important cycle of compositions by Pilia, “Lacinia” (meaning "lace" in Latin) builds upon the exploration of the metaphysical, spiritual, and divine dimensions through numbers, geometry, and the creation of tonal forms explored by 2022’s “Spiralis Aurea”, mirroring archetypal, immutable forms at the juncture of the abstract realm of mathematics and architectural structures in the physical world, expands the poetics and compositional ideas featured in its predecessor. Regraded by Pilia as both a series of individual compositions and a single work, “Lacinia” was conceived to “define a circular path (a sort of "rhizomatic lace") where the beginning and end touch, suggesting the concept of time not only as linear but also cyclical and ritualistic—an eternal return, a process of transformation where matter changes, its state changes, but without altering the invisible internal principle of mutation”, embarking upon a a series of “steps, degrees, and energetic quanta in a progression of archetypal whole numbers and transcendent creation.”

The resulting 16 tracks unfold as a series of complex sonic meditations. While deeply resonant with the minimalism of composers like Arvo Pärt, LaMonte Young, Pauline Oliveros, and Eliane Radigue, Pilia digs deep and moves far beyond the predictable tonal relationships and structures of that idiom, echoing the ancient liturgical and devotional music of composers like Gesualdo da Venosa, Monteverdi, and John Dowland, at a refined intersection of the acoustic and electroacoustic, drone, and chamber music.

Fascinatingly structured as a whole to include a number of motif returns, across which we encounter works like “Lacinia Off Axis” appearing in slightly different rendering, states, or evolutions three times, and compositions like “Eve” appearing twice in subtly different forms and arrangements - first for four oscillators, guitar and voice and then for string orchestra - as well “Maris Stella”, which similarly makes two appearances, first for horn trio, organ and percussion, and then for string orchestra, with “Lacinia” Pilia delves further into the world of chamber music than ever before, creating a deeply inward, mediative body of work the totality of which, guided by its rich string arrangements of arching, sorrowful tone, feels almost like a mass for some unproclaimed loss; simultaneously locked in the nuances of a moment, while managing to suspend time.

Perhaps most remarkable is Pilia's ability to create a remarkable sense of sonic cohesion while using such a varied number of ensembles and instrumentation. From the sprawling string arrangements delivered by Comunale di Bologna String Orchestra, under the direction of Paolo Mancini, and Ensemble Concordanze, and a flute trio (Cadux / Plectere) brilliantly played by Manuel Zurria, to pieces for sax, organ and percussion, violin duo and percussion, organ and percussion, Pilia manages to create a sense of singular, encompassing world that flows forward like a shifting stream.

Overwhelmingly beautiful, delicate, and bold, “Lacinia” is unquestionably a high-water mark in Stefano Pilia’s already remarkable, forward-looking career. Nothing short of a marvel of contemporary Minimalism that, through its shifting arrangements of harmonics, tonality, and texture draws flickering images of ancient forms of music into the present day, “Lacinia” is Issued by Die Schachtel in two special editions on double vinyl and a CD edition, featuring artwork by Bruno Stucchi/Dinamomilano. This is an immersive all-consuming listen that can’t be missed.

★Japanese obi-strip
★First time reissued on vinyl

Turning Into Small, the second album by shoegaze band All Natural Lemon & Lime Flavors from New Jersey, originally released in 1998 on local label Gern Blandsten,
is now being reissued on both CD and vinyl.

Formed in the mid-90s, All Natural Lemon & Lime Flavors were deeply influenced by UK shoegaze and alternative rock—most notably My Bloody Valentine—while
pursuing a uniquely experimental sound within the US emo and indie scenes. Their innovative spirit reached full bloom on Turning Into Small, which remains their
final album to date.

One of the standout tracks is the nearly eight-minute-long “Your Imagination,” a spacious sonic landscape that draws listeners into deep immersion.
It has become a signature song for the band, heralding a new wave of shoegaze that emerged in the late '90s and beyond. Even more noteworthy, however, are
tracks like “Puzzled Into Pieces” and “In Between And After,” which showcase the band's layered, synth-driven electronic textures, dynamic collage-like structures,
and occasionally buoyant melodies. These elements come together to create a strange and otherworldly sense of weightlessness—something rarely found even
within the shoegaze genre.

While resonating with the likes of My Bloody Valentine, Stereolab, and The Flaming Lips, the band's mutant-like blend of styles also draws parallels with acts like
Swirlies, Serena-Maneesh, and contemporary shoegaze innovators such as They Are Gutting a Body of Water.

This is a groundbreaking album in US shoegaze—one that still feels fresh and vital thanks to its timeless experimental spirit and originality. Now is the perfect time
to (re)discover it.

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by." Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time will be released Friday, October 10th in vinyl, Japanese import CD (via Plancha), and digital editions.

With his first EP on Token, Phara conjures up four tracks detailing dancefloor impact with robust personality. In 'Second Skin', the Belgian artist is eager for resolution, keeping tension high with the bold analog sound he's known for. Coming eye to eye with the label's sound, Phara pays homage to Token while fiercely defending years of artistic direction - layering the label's astral ambiance with his unstoppable movement.

'Second Skin' sets Phara's intentions clear. The titletrack rolls forward like heavy machinery with what seems like shifting vocals breathing life into the stereo image. This first cut is a gold standard of peaktime production, creating a sense of purpose at the core of urgency. Claps and rides boom and whip around the track that lumbers on with chord stabs to add soul to flare. 'The Ring', however, takes the listener into another direction. Heavily centered on the drum sequence with a sharp slap-back delay, Phara plays with resonance, sparking psychosis amongst movement. Playful in the short term, 'The Ring' proves to be an ultra-hypnotic track reserved for a set's high intensity stretches on an already surrendered dancefloor. Taking this energy and pulling it in, 'Neon' comes to establish a bit more intimacy at first. Here, the producer diffuses his elements into themselves and, in turn, creates a thick ambiance that drives the record forward in space and dissonance. 'Neon' is inquisitive and almost spiritual in its effect, playing with the line between a unified dancefloor and an introspective journey. The conclusion to the EP is 'Blood', a return to dryer production - at least in the beginning. Ambient, almost psychedelic synth work sucks in the listener over unwavering energy to create a closing track worthy of its name. Rolling through to the end, 'Blood' delivers the final blow to an insatiable record on Token by Phara.

Berlin-Hamburg duo Session Victim return to the ever-reliable Delusions Of Grandeur imprint with Chapter Two of their Sidequests trilogy, marking yet another high point in their almost twenty year journey through heartfelt, sample-rich music. Overflowing with analog warmth, sundrenched textures and irresistible grooves, the release also features a stellar remix from label cofounder and deep house pioneer Jimpster who kicks off the EP. Here he takes Behind The Glass into spaced out house-not-house territory. With crisp drum programming, trademark Rhodes, and subtle pads that build over time, his version delivers that late-night sophistication he's known for—steering the downtempo original in a clubbier direction without losing its blissed-out essence. Up next we have a brand new collaborative effort with long time friend, label mate and fellow sample nerd Nebraska. Make It Happen is a dusty, slo-mo house groove featuring delicate keys, euphoric strings and that unmistakable sense of journey. It’s just the kind of low-slung epic house they do best—intimate yet club-ready, nostalgic but never retro. Flipping over, Too Soft To Be Loud, another collaboration with Viken Arman, follows with a jazzy, almost samba-esque rhythm and swirling atmospherics. Loose percussion, catchy guitar riffs and Rhodes stabs collide with off-kilter dub FX and soft vocal snippets giving the track a laid-back, live-band feel that harks back to their See You When You Get There era. Hubcap Candy dives deep into funk territory. Nebraska’s on point boogie bassline drives the track forward as crunchy drums and layers of synths create a dreamlike haze. It’s loopy, moody, and finds Session Victim at their very best. Closing out the EP we have the original of Behind The Glass, a headsy, beatdown piece that slowly unfolds over an unconventional brass-like bassline and delicate guitar textures, paying homage to the golden age of Trip Hop haziness and it’s pioneer turntable spirit. Blending crate-digging sensibilities with forward-thinking production, this latest release solidifies Session Victim’s reputation as genre-blurring tastemakers, and their chemistry with Delusions Of Grandeur remains as strong as ever

First time reissue of this French cold-wave / minimal-synth treasure.



November 1981 – In the heart of autumn, we set off in two cars along the Nationale 1 (!) to reach Choisy-le-Roi, where a 16-track studio was waiting for us—a place where, over the course of a weekend, we would finally be able to carve our own grooves into vinyl. We were quite nervous, as Guerre Froide had already been around for a year and a half. Our elders in Kas Product had already released two EPs—one with four tracks, the other with three—in 1980, even though they’d started only a few months before us. Admittedly, there wasn’t really a sense of urgency—some of us came from the punk movement, where the prevailing mood was still very much No Future, even if we’d long since stopped believing in it... And yet others had truly lost everything, like those from the generation before us. The reasons, ironically, were often the same: heroin and/or love—hard drugs, in both cases.

Speaking of which, I had a terrible stomach ache—due to nerves or some form of tension—which forced us to make a pit stop in the Oise region so I could rush to the toilet of a local café. That same stomach discomfort would hit me again once we arrived at the studio—whose name, incidentally, I’ve since forgotten...

We had gotten there thanks to the generous initiative of a friend, Sylvain S., known as “Perlin” (what a phonetic coincidence!?), who had specifically created the Stechak Products label to produce our record. Stechak because it was consistent with his earlier association called Tchernoziom, and Products as a plural tribute to the trailblazers from Nancy.

Guerre Froide originally consisted of four members: Fabrice Fruchart on guitar-synth (Korg MS-20), Patrick Mallet on bass, and Gilbert Deffais, known as “Bébert”, on Korg drum machine. At the time, I was already singing in a rock/post-punk band called Stress, and that’s how Guerre Froide picked up the bad habit of rehearsing in the same basement in Amiens as Stress. Within a month or two, we had half a dozen songs. We then had the opportunity to record a 4-track demo with a friend from Radio France Picardie, and to perform in October at a festival held at the Amiens municipal circus. Then came the now-legendary concert on November 11 at B.J.’s Club. After that, we self-produced and released 50 completely DIY copies of a cassette titled Cicatrice. A few concerts later—after Jean-Michel Bailleux had joined us on bass and Patrick had switched to guitar, which felt more natural to him—and with more concrete plans starting to take shape, we had to find a new rehearsal space and start renting a room.

Then came the moment when Fabrice told us he was leaving to go study in Lille... After the June 19, 1981 concert, which was naturally dubbed “Farewell to 2F,” Marie-José, Bébert’s wife, offered to take over on synth.

That’s when Perlin, who was a close friend of the Deffais couple and a great fan of our music, offered to fully finance the production of a 4-track 12-inch EP—covering the studio time, mastering, pressing, and artwork. What up-and-coming band would have turned that down? An improvised contract was signed with each member of Guerre Froide. The first step was choosing which four songs we would record. Berlin 81 was an obvious pick, having already become the group’s flagship track. We wanted to avoid reusing songs from Cicatrice, so the focus shifted to new material—some written before, some after Fabrice’s departure. Ersatz, for example, was his composition, but Mauve and Peine Perdue, which were also selected, were both written by Patrick.

The magic of A Vision of Panorama returns with the new album Serene Architect — a meditative yet rhythmic journey through luminous musical structures. This is a record about space: physical, internal, emotional.

Known for his soft Balearic touch, coastal synths, and an almost telepathic sense of groove, A Vision of Panorama offers something more here — a designed world where every sound functions as a piece of sonic architecture.

The album features tracks previously released on the legendary Café del Mar — On Avance, Baby Konyawa, Rumbabuena, Golden Sand, Neon Whispers - now reimagined in exclusive versions created specifically for vinyl. These new interpretations sound deeper and more expansive, subtly reinforcing the album’s architectural concept: to renew the familiar without destroying its essence. Architecture of calm, harmony in motion - Serene Architect designs sound for open skies and slow dances beneath the sun.

First released on August 18, 2023, "Outline of Nature" started as an experiment in building a modular synthesizer system and ended up as a voltage controlled outpouring of love for the natural world. Sylvan-born and pastoral-powered, sap-blooded and lightning-charged, this album grew out of the damp florescent corners of the woods, each note and sound, a fractal extension of their seedling sounds. It was nurtured into being at The Twilight Research Centre, a studio facility situated on the border of Somerset and Dorset. During Covid lockdown 1.0, I spent the outdoor hours we were permitted, wandering through the centre's surroundings, in the green lanes, woodlands and corridors of the wilds with their wary and flickering inhabitants, beneath the distant eyes of the soaring buzzards and the hulking red kites. I didn't expect it, but it was in the quiet, ferociously vibrant dens of nature, that I found a deeply profound connection with the natural world. It once again made sense to feel as much a part of the woods as the trees were; I felt like a natural entity in its habitat again, not something I'd properly felt since running wild through the gullies, dells and fells of the Midlands as a child. And I became afflicted with a powerful urge to build strange electronic sound systems that were organic, chaotic, fractal and in some way reflective of the awesome natural systems that surround us and surround the centre. I plugged in the modular, and went searching for signs of life. Adding to this, just before the lockdowns, I stumbled across a three volume nature encyclopedia in a local charity shop, called "Outline of Nature in the British Isles" by Sir John Hammerton. The sub-heading reads "A Comprehensive Photo-Survey of the Varied Life of Field and Hedgerow, Moor and Mountain, River, Pond and Sea", and it's a stunning collection of grainy photographs, beautiful illustrations and wondrously poetic writing, some of which inspired track titles and of course, the album title. I also rekindled my love of Ladybird nature books such as the "What to Look for in Spring/Summer/Autumn/Winter" series, "Birds and How They Live" and "Butterflies, Moths and Other Insects", rebuilding a small collection I had as a child and discovering numerous volumes new to me. Between the two literary sources, I had a rich well of imagery, writing and pastoral nostalgia to draw from; and coupled with the extended sessions of blissing out in my own heavily ecstatic awe descended on me in the sheer grandness of the wilderness, I set about enticing out of the woods an album of phosphorescent electrical music, abundant with comparatively microscopic, but persistent and wild life-forces.

Crazed Behaviour's second vinyl release features Volruptus, the Alien Boogie Commander, with his electrifying EP Overload. This intense, alien-infused electro journey delves into the chaos of extraterrestrial encounters and technological overload. With pulsating rhythms and otherworldly synths, Overload transports listeners to a distant, uncharted galaxy where alien forces and scientific anomalies collide. Each track pulses with the frenetic energy of a world consumed by alien invasions and cosmic chaos, blending futuristic electro with a sense of impending alien discovery. Get ready for a high-energy ride into the unknown.

HES049 sees Pangaea expand his sonic palette with two striking tracks that bridge underground club dynamics and bold pop instincts. Manía features rising Spanish artist Jazz Alonso, whose lyrics - "Si preguntan na na na / Yo me tapo la boca" - evoke a sense of playful secrecy, turning whispered rumours and private obsessions into a rhythmic chant. "Cosa mía, pequeña manía" becomes both confession and provocation, layered over a beat that coils with tension and groove.

On the flip, Neuromance pushes the tempo to 155 BPM, blending the high-speed energy of happy hardcore with the synthetic melancholy of '80s synth pop. Snapping synth stabs and gated drums drive a precise, mechanical rhythm, while vintage textures drift through a low end rooted in UK club culture. Together, the two tracks showcase Pangaea at his most dynamic, bold, and refined.

Signals Aligned stands as a sonic testament to the intersection of science, spirituality, and the vast unknown. Inspired by pioneering theories on the nature of anomalous phenomena, viewing them not as extraterrestrial but as a complex, multidimensional enigma.

There’s a consistent theme of “discovery through distortion.” Truth is often obscured by layers of misinformation, disinformation, and misperception. The music plays with the concept of clarity and distortion, revealing hidden textures beneath shifting layers of sound.

The sound palette is vast and ethereal, incorporating elements of noise, shimmering synths, and organic textures. There’s a sense of both wonder and unease that mirrors theories on the strange and unexplainable.

Flags Are Walls is the latest release from an enigmatic electronic duo based in Barcelona. "Universal Comfort"

The album explores the boundaries of contemporary electronic music, blending synthetic and organic sounds, layering analogue and digital sources, where abstract and concrete elements shift in and out of focus.

Boundaries are not only physical-shaping how we experience time and space-but also emotional, framing the sense of place we attach to them. The tracks play with these flimsy, and uncertain intersections, exploring expression and perception through evolving, haunting and diffused sonic landscapes.

After the success of the first volume, “Nihon No Wave 2” continues to unearth the hidden history of Japan’s underground electronic scene from the ’80s. This second installment digs even deeper into the archives, showcasing more rare tracks from obscure artists who operated on the fringes of Japan’s independent music world.

Like its predecessor, “Nihon No Wave 2” captures the raw energy and experimental spirit of the "Nippon-wave" era—where lo-fi synths, minimal rhythms, and post-punk aesthetics converged into a uniquely Japanese take on global sounds. Many of these recordings, originally released on cassette compilations or small-run vinyl with no international reach, have remained virtually unknown outside Japan.

The album introduced a lush, complex dream world that the singer, composer, and producer created and inhabited largely on her own. She produced all the songs, and wrote and performed everything on the self-released collection outside of a re-imagined cover of Pink Floyd’s “Green is the Colour” and 2 other tracks (“The Time,” “Give It Back To You”), which started as instrumentals written by Survive’s Kyle Dixon (who composed the Stranger Things soundtrack with his bandmate Michael Stein), to which Ainsworth wrote melodies and added lyrics. Ainsworth, who’s relocated to Los Angeles from Toronto since 2017’s Darling of the Afterglow, explains that the collection revealed itself to her “as a play taking place in Mother Nature’s vanishing home,” aka Phantom Forest, and that she’s singing from 3 perspectives: herself, Mother Nature, and Greek Chorus. For instance, of the album’s opener, “Diamonds Cutting Diamonds,” she explains: “The Greek Chorus sets the scene, narrating and offering direction on how to enter Phantom Forest. It’s my hope that the listener will imagine the narration to be directed to them as well, as they begin the journey of the album.” You’ll get a sense of this from the collection’s edenic cover art and the playful, pastoral video for the album’s first single, “Can You Find Her Place.” Its inspiration came from Ainsworth’s love for Italian Renaissance painter Botticelli’s 15-century masterpiece “Primavera,” an allegorical representation of the burgeoning fertility of the earth in spring. She notes: “The video features the Greek gods of the painting in a choreographed Baroque style dance.” Keeping with the personal feel of the collection, her sister Abby Ainsworth directed the clip. In line with the classical and historical depths of Phantom Forest, Ainsworth, who holds a Masters Degree in film scoring composition from NYU and studied composition as an undergrad at McGill, notes that although the album might be considered pop, she approached it as an orchestrator. “Even if I’m dealing purely with synths,” she says, “The songs are like a score, each one an evolving journey. I love to use strings so I’ve included my string arrangements on ‘Tell Me I Exist’ and ‘Can You Find Her Place.’ I recorded live musicians on drums, bass, and guitar on ‘Edge of the Throne,’ ‘The Time,’ and ‘Floating Dream,’ and wove those live elements into my programmed elements.” Phantom Forest is a beautiful, vast collection that mixes the historical and the hands on, with hooks about the apocalypse and people obsessively using face-recognition software to see what paintings their face match with, in search of some kind of connection. It’s a journey that holds up to close listening (and lyric reading) and to dance floors, but that can also exist on a purely emotional plane. In all cases, it asks that you listen, and take some kind of action.

Blaney describes A Room With A Door That Closes as “a love letter to her blue,” an emotional state that she defines as “a kinetic, intense, and dark energy that needs to be expressed as soon as it is felt.” The eleven songs on the album span radioactive kiss offs, sorrowful meditations on yearning, and gossamer reveries about self image.

The music has a fittingly tumultuous, intricate sound: 1960s soul samples melt into warm drum n bass percussion, blips of glitch ping pong against grating synth, and Blaney’s vocals range from searing punk exclamations to gentle, exploratory croons. It’s the sound of a singer peering deeply within herself and presenting the world with everything she finds, unadulterated, in real time. Blaney produced the new project along with a tight team of three producers: Emerson Fossett, Harlan Steed (Show Me The Body), and Alex Farrar (MJ Lenderman, Wednesday, Squirrel Flower, Snail Mail).

Blaney had just started playing guitar and producing around the time she began writing the songs that would become the album. Being new to both producing and guitar playing opened up a sense of exploration and freedom for her. She felt emboldened to employ more adventurous riffs and unconventional song arrangements when she was writing. A Room With A Door That Closes is a collection of songs that rigorously pursue honesty, that present feelings as they arise without rushing to categorise them or explain them away. In the process of understanding her rage or discomfort, Blaney often lands on a sense of pride and assurance, but that’s never the ultimate goal. She eschews the easy comfort of neat resolution for the excitement of ongoing discovery. The album is an exercise in unfiltered self-expression, and a celebration of life at its messiest.