Search:synth sense

Time to welcome another newcomer to Freerange with a brilliant debut that has already been gaining a lot of interest from early spins. Stefano Ritteri should be a familiar name to many, having dropped several well- received releases on key labels such as Pets, Rockets & Ponies and Get Physical as well as his own monthly Rinse France radio show. A producer in the old school sense, he has the ability and desire to flip from deep, emotive and down tempo jams to the most impactful, high energy floor fillers, all with a deft touch and unique and experimental spin. The Italian producer, now relocated to London, has a studio chock full of vintage synths and hardware outboard which keep him inspired and ensure his output sounds fresher and fatter than most, as can be heard on this excellent two-tracker entitled A Different Happiness EP The title track is a spaced out, percussion-heavy jam which takes a minimal approach but wins hearts and minds with an ear-worm of a melody that gets gets you hooked in from the start. Snippets of spoken word add to the intense atmosphere making this one of those sure-fire, perennial tracks which can work in a variety of sets and still guaranteed to make an impact and stand out in the crowd. Flip over for Pocket Melody, another simple yet effective and inventive track which sees Stefano letting loose on his synths and coming up with some warped Zawinul-inspired vibes in the process. The playful melody snakes around in an improvised way whilst the dubby drums and classic analogue machine beats ensure everyone stays locked into it's hypnotic groove. Definitely a producer to watch for us and we're sure Stefano is on track to continue making some amazing music. We hope you love this as much as we do!

Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time is a portal into somatic chiaroscuro, aglow with the embers of imperfect memories and smudged with the plumes of internal echoes, which augment in vast, mercurial dimensions. For his third album on RVNG Intl., the British cellist, composer and producer offers a capsule of personal resonance and remembrance, assembled over the past six years. Throb, shiver, arrow of time traces the familiar metallic anatomy and viscous string modulations of his 2020 release skins n slime, while recentering his inner compulsions following a procession of lauded score writing projects, including the films Aftersun (Charlotte Wells, 2022), The Stranger (Thomas M Wright, 2022) and Occupied City (Steve McQueen, 2023). While working on Aftersun, Wells asked Coates how music could signal that someone is going on a trawl through their memory_a question that has stayed with him ever since and fosters a heartbeat running through the record. Throb, shiver, arrow of time is "all about inaccurate transmissions from our memories, overlaid with emotions from other sources," says Coates. The release is imbued with the ache and glow of recollections mulched together, where the guttural dissonance of misremembering is shrouded by strange orbs of sentiment. At the record's inner core is "Shopping centre curfew," a swift yet cavernous track that emerged five years ago when two real world events, both occurring in South London during the pandemic lockdowns, became fused in a dream: the demolition of Elephant and Castle shopping center, and the discussion of a curfew as a real possibility for all men following a violent crime. A strange simultaneity occurred with this piece of music and Coates built the album out from there, a sense of temporal entropy refracting shimmers of lurking convulsions into lucid sonic topologies. The ten compositions of Throb, shiver, arrow of time find weightless melodies soaring across after-image gradients, magnified and compressed. Misted tones within "Please be normal" and "90" soften drone-soaked shudders of inner acoustics messing up. Vocal invocations appear from long-term collaborators Malibu and chrysanthemum bear, as well as drifting synth radiance from Faten Kanaan. Throb, shiver, arrow of time furthers Coates' reach in collapsing the digital into the analogue and vice versa, allowing serendipity to reorganize the material and push out against the confines of flatness. This sculptural approach to sound is deeply influenced by the intricate installations of artist Sarah Sze, whose permutations of visual matter with its own after-image form kaleidoscopic epitaphs for ephemera and emotion. Coates' thinking about Sze's work and processes flowed together with his own playing and editing techniques, superimposing the textural relief of a live take back into a composition, and allowing the sound to succumb to a dream of itself. As Coates expands, "The cello is a kind of melancholic instrument with a light ethereal spirit. When the sound is flattened into digital processes, with shifted frequencies and time stretching I'm trying to give it even more of those qualities. Sometimes I'm distancing myself from it, so it becomes a piece of discarded debris that has soul in it, a down-sampling. Or other times, it's trying to maximize the present tense in the act of playing, and collapse that vivid color into a burnished, photocopied kind of sound. So the music acts like weather, weathering the listener, or as flames licking at the sides of objects." As the record unfurls, the compositions swell in duration, until the granular glimmers of its finale "Make it happen" persist in almost violent delight. "There's a feeling of not wanting to let this album go, trying to defy the extinguishing sound at the end of the music, trying to push the colors beyond the confines of the structure, to defeat the silence." In the scramble to resist denouement, Coates suspends the arrow of time in its eternal flight, just for a moment, to reveal the solace of the dust settling in the afterglow. Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time will be released on vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on October 18, 2024. On behalf of Oliver and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit The Traditional Music and Song Association of Scotland, an organization fostering opportunities for people of all ages to participate in the traditional music and culture of Scotland.

Leya Touch & soFa elsewhere aka Dream Baby Dream combine their left-of-centre musical perspectives on an otherworldly new self-titled album that arrives on Hell Yeah this September and will get a Japanese domestic release on CD. The duo's beguiling mix of occult synths and treated vocals ride dubbed-out mid-tempo rhythms on a retro-futurist record that blends cold wave, cosmic disco, dub and trance.

Dream Baby Dream describes themselves as "two children who refused to grow up" and now they offer a glimpse into their very own fantastic land of dreams. This journey into diverse flavours spontaneously started after a cosy dinner and after just three sessions resulted in the album presented here. Playful yet sometimes gloomy, this music echoes life, both imaginary and real - the highs, the lows, the dark moments and the joy, trance-inducted love zones, daydreams and everything in between. It is a coherent hole but one filled with surprising turns, moments of deja vu and plenty of outsider dance floor delights.

Leya Touch is a rising voice and live act on the Brussels alternative scene. Together with soFa, a veteran DJ and producer who released on many forward-thinking labels worldwide, they provide signature vocals and synths that challenge typical genre categorisations.

Opener 'Love Zone' sets a strangely seductive basic channel vs dreamy pop vibe with wispy cosmic melodies and oodles of echoes as Touch's vocals draw you in. Lose limbed percussive jumbled and sci-fi motifs define 'Badalamenti On Fries', 'Curry Con Sax' has an avant-guard sense of soul and melodic curiousness and 'Diskoteka' is a jittery mix of retro synth sounds and whispered vocal coos that shimmer like stars in the night sky. Elsewhere there's the malfunctioning Kraftwerkian electronics of 'Körperkonsum', goa-filter madness of 'Banana Trance' and the eerie interplanetary dub of 'Carpenter On The Beach' while 'Whale Rider' and 'The Rude Red Lady' bring warped lines and enchanting vocalisations that sound like nothing you have heard before.

This is an exultant album of new musical rituals, tiny soundscapes, dehumanised words and combinations of the past, present and future that never fail to excite and intrigue.

Limited to 300 copies

2024 Repress

Dark Entries is honored to finally present the first ever official vinyl reissue of Space Museum by Solid Space. Solid Space was the British duo of Dan Goldstein (keyboards, vocals) and Matthew 'Maf' Vosburgh (guitar, bass, keyboards, vocals) formed in 1980. Dan and Matthew met at the age of 11 while attending school in north London. In late 1978 at at the age of 14, they formed Exhibit 'A' with Paul Platypus' and Andrew Lunchbox' Bynghall. They recorded two EPs in 1979 and 1980, self-released on Irrelevant Wombat Records and appeared on 'The Thing From The Crypt' compilation. After the dissolution of the group, Mathew started taking his guitar over to Dan's house where he'd play his Casio MT-30 and they would record songs. Eventually a second hand drum machine and Wasp synthesizer were acquired from classified ads in Melody Maker and the Solid Space sound was born. By this time they were just turning 18 and finally found the freedom to make the music they'd had in their heads. Over the course of the next two years the band assembled eleven bedroom recordings that would become one of the most cherished DIY obscurities of its kind. Their debut album 'Space Museum' was released in 1982 on cassette by In Phaze Records. All of the songs were mixed by label boss Pat Bermingham on 8-track tape at The Shed, in Ilford, which was literally a garden shed. The band's music and lyrics were heavily indebted to science fiction, in particular the 1960s television series Doctor Who. 'Space Museum' is an unveiling of atmospheric, minimalist post punk supported by bright melodies. The music combines drum machines and synths with acoustic guitar and toy drums whilst also experimenting with samples between tracks. Lyrics deal with space travel and a general sense of dejection. Representing a bubbling spirit within the underground, they foreshadowed an entire world of independent music which would emerge across the 80's and well into the 90's. For this reissue we've included two bonus tracks from the band's archive, Platform 6' originally released on the B-side of the second single by Exhibit 'A', this song features only Dan and Matthew and is the first Solid Space track ever recorded. Tutti Lo Sanno' is a cover of In Phaze label mates Marine Girls, though the lyrics have been changed to suit the gender of the new singer.Each song has been carefully remastered for vinyl by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley. The record is sleeved in a replica of the cassette artwork featuring the Cybermen and Jamie from the Doctor Who episode "The Wheel in Space". Every copy includes a double sided 11x11 insert with lyrics, notes and never before seen photographs of the band taken by Maf as well as a postcard featuring an original advert for the cassette.

Danny Tenaglia’s new EP on Nervous Records features “Tonight” and “Out From Obscurity” and a remix of his prior Nervous Records release “Move That Body.”

With ”Tonight,” Danny kicks things off with the title track - treating us to both ‘No Beats Intro’ and ‘Beats Intro’ versions. And in doing so - manages to deliver, hands-down, one of the most tantalising and majestically rousing opening gambits we’ve heard in some time.

And when ‘Tonight’ finally bursts its aural banks, circa 1 minute 30 seconds - with the most seamless of transitions, we suddenly find ourselves surfing a decadent wave of hazy Rhodes, staccato bass and mesmeric vocal work - ebbing and flowing right up to it’s opulent and wonderfully soporific conclusion.

Next up we have DT’s re-rub of George Vidal’s ‘Out From Obscurity’; a veritable pressure-cooker of a track, that spins and weaves a sense of poise, tension and drama which escalates stealthily throughout. A stripped-back, rolling synth-driven’, made-to-measure for the 2024 club floor.

Finally - closing this souped-up invigorator of a release - we have ANTRANIG’s remix of Danny and Cevin Fisher’s ‘Move That Body’… a fully tribalized, menagerie-wrapped groove; which wears the sweat, the writhe and all that heat - very much on it’s visceral, live-and-direct sleeve.“

On their third full-length album, 'The Signal', the Compact Disk Dummies keep a few interesting balls in the air. They play with the opinions and expectations of the outside world, while also confronting their own desires and doubts. This is aptly depicted on the cover with a table, a bell, two brothers and an impatient crowd: who is waiting for whom? The album is as diverse as its cover is surprising. In a mix of styles and influences ranging from retro house to funk, Lennert and Janus Coorevits demonstrate their versatility. Following their scintillating performances at Rock Werchter and Pukkelpop, and the success of the radio hits 'There's No Sex Without You' and 'fomo', 'The Signal' marks the start of a new era for the Dummies.

Lennert notes, "Pfff, I would think about everything indefinitely. And I'm not the only one, I notice. Stuck in a kind of limbo, a state of uncertainty, surrounded by signals, but still feeling a certain fear of following the signal."

On 'The Signal', 'fomo' dissects human desire, reaching for the unattainable. 'Where We Go (Calypso)' is like the shipwreck no one wants. And in the title track, the female lead character finds herself in a toxic relationship, the signs of which are obvious, at least to the outside world. While the content of 'The Signal' revolves around doubt, contemplation and acting or not acting, the musical interpretation is in direct opposition to that. The Compact Disk Dummies do not doubt; they hold their heads up and their chests out. With certainty, they mix everything that excites them musically into the blender, without grinding the identity of the Dummies themselves; actually enriching it instead. The retro house of 'Solàr' (a song about Louis the Fourteenth? Why not) flows into the rampant funk of 'Ballet Dancer' before expanding into 'Underwater'. In every track, you sense the long road the Coorevits brothers have travelled since their breakthrough - and their then angular electro-punk. This third album is Lennert and Janus' most sophisticated work in the expanding universe of the Compact Disk Dummies.

In addition to being a mix of styles, 'The Signal' is also a mix of collaborations. There is the French touch of mixer Michael Declerck and mastering engineer Alex Gopher. There is the Dutch input of Wieger Hoogendorp (Goldband) and Jens Van Der Meij (Froukje). Beautiful string sections are provided by Wietse Meys and Reinhard Vanbergen, bass licks by Boris Van Overschee and backing vocals by Isolde Lasoen and Judith Okon, among others. Producer Jasper Maekelberg always kept an eye on things. And again, for the third album in a row, after 'Mess With Us' (2013) and 'Neon Fever Dream' (2020), artist Athos Burez also provided the artwork for 'The Signal'.

But however international the music sounds, however great the contributions from other top artists, 'The Signal' remains largely the work of the Dummies, with Lennert as vocalist, lyricist and multi-instrumentalist, and Janus as engineer, producer and all-around tech wizard. The album was not made in New York, Tokyo or Berlin, but in Desselgem. Studio 87, the Coorevits family's garage converted into a studio, remains Ali Baba's cave for the Compact Disk Dummies. In their studio crammed with synths, percussion and guitars, Lennert and Janus could not ignore the signal: time to smash it!

A1 - Deep Sea
Hefty jungle breaks shudder and thud as Aural Imbalance chartsa path through the depths with a shimmering backdrop of glorious synths and padwork that dance gleefully around asymphony of gentle rhythms. An over-arching earworm melody develops and rises above the mix, intersecting with the break pattern which gradually adds to its own character and texture with muffled breaks beneath, all combining to create this superb EP opener.

A2 - Echoes In Time
Flexing his breakbeat skillset in style, Aural Imbalance cuts andchops fine analogue jungle breaks effortlessly as Echoes In Time showcases his ever evolving production talents on Spatial.Wisps of airy pads are floated in the mix that slowly rise around the listener, somber in tone with delicate keys, bells and micro-melodies that build the atmosphere with a wondrous clarity feware capable of achieving.

AA1 - Sense of Space
A DJ-friendly intro opens with a plinky melody and hi hats asserene pads slowly usher in rumbling, weighty amen breaks, edited to perfection as is fast becoming trademark for Aural Imbalance's breakwork on the label. As the soundscape develops, a softly, hopeful xylophone melody innocently shuffles around subtle keys and synths to cap off a tale of two vibes effortlessly moulded into another sublime atmospheric collage.

AA2 - Regolith
Closing the EP with a stunning analogue break-laden workout, Regolith sees Aural Imbalance delve deeper still into the oldschool brand new vibes of Spatial with a beat pattern that immediately makes an impression. Scattered and flecked across the mix, the edits juggle restless snares and hats with a dense kickdrum and subtle 808 bass, while a tranquil blend of ambient atmospherics circle inquisitively above.
Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

John Davis is a sound artist and filmmaker based in the Bay Area. Active since the mid-aughts, he has published recordings on labels such as Root Strata and Digitalis, as well as on his own Bimodal Press imprint. “Landlines” sees a return to the SOD catalog for Davis, following a full-length release in 2013, and may be seen as somewhat of a spiritual successor to that album. In all of Davis’ work, there is a specific pastoral sensibility that feels firmly rooted in the forests and coasts of Northern California, moving with the delicate and erratic cadence of dust motes rendered visible in bright sunlight. Opening track “Verichrome” articulates the soundscape wonderfully, stitching together Music Mouse-esque formant synthesis and meditative vocal sampling with an exquisite minimalist suite for prepared piano. Of these recordings, Davis himself writes, “In a general sense the conceit here is nostalgia, a desire to reflect on the importance of connection – to ourselves and to the world around us. The title is, of course, a euphemism for the telephone, but I am also considering landscape, horizons, and infrastructure, as well as the invisible lines that connect us, the threads that bind us, and the communities that form us.”

Four years after their Discrepant debut - 'OOOO' -, Lisbon-based travellers Jibóia return to the fold with another offering of globetrotting psychedelia with 'Salar'. With the core trio of Óscar Silva, Ricardo Martins and Mestre André augmented by a stellar parade of collaborators on various roles, 'Salar' further expands on the transglobal visions by now pretty trademarked by the band. Intersped among shorter vignettes for drums, saxophone and bass, each of the more fully fleshed tracks casts a guest to elevate Jibóia's music to uncharted realms - both in a mystical and geographical sense.

Opener 'Selar' summons the cello of songstress Joana Guerra for a skewed dialogue with Silva's guitar, propelled by Martins' drums and percussion and André's electronic textures into 4 minutes and 20 seconds that feel epic - if there was any psychedelic numerological symbolism needed. On 'Solar', Silva's non-western plucking rides on for Yaw Tembe's trumpet to veer in a multitude in directions, while the mysterious 'Sitar' conjures the voice of moroccan musician Ayoub El Ayadi for a contemplative nighttime prayer. Elsewhere, guitarist Rui Carvalho aka Filho da Mãe injects dissonant guitar lines unto 'Sarar's pummelling dance and Pedro Augusto's electronics hover below the shapeshifting dynamics of 'Sonar', among mesmerising keyboard lines. 'Salir' featuring Daiyen Jone enchanted flute brings the album to a close at its most reflective, all crepuscular synth lines and reverbed handclaps.

Carla Boregas is a Brazilian musician, composer and sound artist. By merging synthetic and acoustic instrumentation and techniques, Boregas builds up sonic scenarios driven by an invisible force, where the sensation of presence and discovery lies between density and delicacy. Her work spans composition, improvisation, performance, sound installation and radio art, and aims to transport the listener to different subjective perspectives of time and space, to invoke memories and to reflect about the nature-human relationship.

Carla Boregas writes: "Using a Tascam Portastudio 4-track cassette recorder, I invited three musicians to improvise alone with the sound recording of the sea that I did in Massaguaçu, the place where I used to live in Brasil. The recorder that I used had a defect in one of its tracks, therefore I could only invite two musicians – Vinicius Cajado (double bass) and Réka Csiszér (cello), plus the sea in another track. While listening to the tracks together, I felt a deep sense of absence ("ausência" in Portuguese). Perhaps due to their sonorous answers surrounded by the tape hiss? Because that's one of the symbolic meanings of the ocean? Maybe "saudades do mar, de estar ao seu outro lado"? Who knows – listening can be something very mysterious. Afterwards I played with and interweaved them all: the sonorous sea, Vinicius Cajado, Réka Csiszér and the absence - "Absência Tape" is the final result." – Carla Boregas, Berlin, 8 August 2024.

A1 - Desire
Opening the EP in quietly epic fashion, Desire begins with a delightful beat pattern with adistinctive cymbal hit set over warm bass tones and whale song samples. A smooth, thoughtful bass melody is introduced which joyfully intersects with gorgeous piano keys while swirling strings and atmospheric vibes layer and recede like tides of the ocean, creating a truly unique journey of a track that will linger anywhere it may be heard.

A2 - Voidscaping
Instantly setting the scene with crisp, striking breaks, Voidscaping is an atmospheric treatfor the senses with serene throwback pads reminiscent of the halcyon days of Good Looking. Bringing the piece up to date for the Spatial era is the typically intricate blending of reflection and intrigue ASC conjures with his sampling and reverb work, effortlessly thickening the soundscape with memories old and new.

AA1 - Let Go
Opening with the vibrant sounds of twilight nature and metallic bongos, ASC sparinglydeploys a glorious choral vocal before the breaks take off with an energetic pattern drivenby constant, playful hi hats. As the track develops, questions are asked of the listener bythe curious atmosphere, gradually unraveling with strings, synths and trademark vocalusage, offering a new perspective with each listen.

AA2 - Meltdown
A darkly, anxious undertone floods the mix as Meltdown grips the listener from the first barwith skillfully sequenced minimal breaks, hi hats that whoosh in and out like evening crickets you can't quite track, and intense ambient padwork. A longing female vocal occasionally yearns over the various melodies which enter at will, discreetly developing the mood with purpose, unfurling a stream of aural consciousness from this incredible producer.
Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

Born and raised in Sicily but now based in Berlin, SLV is known for his innovative approach to techno and its various shades. He has released on revered labels like Soma and received support from key industry players who respect his ability to blend old-school vibes with modern production techniques. Away from the club, he also produces music for film soundtracks, adding a sense of cinematic edge to his techno cuts and is a master of both analog and digital technologies - a true audio engineer who crafts unique, compelling sounds. Having previously featured on the labels Federation of Rytm III compilation, he returns to SHDWs Mutual Rytm imprint with his Night Echoes EP to open up October.

Graustufen opens with punch drum programming and scintillating percussion that dances atop the groove as booming bass brings serious weight down low. The superb Grand Cayman is another potent techno weapon, this time with icy synth atmospheres and eerie moods pervading the tightly programmed drums and bass to deliver an unstoppable force. Voids brings urgent funk with its hunched-over, closely stacked kicks and suspensory pads, which never let up and keep you locked in the moment, while Elastik Pho echoes a classic Detroit sound with its soul-drenched beats and serene, uplifting, beautiful hi-tek style. Last but not least, That Night shows SLVs extraordinary range as it brings some soulful vocal loops and optimistic chords over thunderous drums, which are sure to power dance floors through to euphoria. The EP includes two digital bonus cuts: Basic Uno, which is a raw, percussive and heads-down banger, and Persistence Of Memory, which is stripped-back, glitchy and dubby techno for strobe-lit warehouses.

Maelstrom returns to Central Processing Unit for the fourth time, and it's the one born Joan-Mael Péneau's lengthiest drop on the Sheffield label yet. The French artist has been a mainstay in the European electro game since the 2000s, and Malestrom brings that experience to bear on new LP The FM Tapes. He goes about this album with the assurance of a seasoned pro, combining his mastery of electro production techniques with a trademark guile to craft an expertly-paced eleven-track affair.

The first section of The FM Tapes sets out the album's stall with style and aplomb - listeners are in store for a rich feast of off-kilter machine-funk which will feature no shortage of intriguing detours. On opener 'Ondes Courtes' the mix throbs with all manner of strange electronic gristle: a distorted bass hum rattles the monitors; wisps of distortion float across the mix; eerily pretty keys wax and wane before giving way to a radar pulse.

'Ondes Courtes' is an ominous slouch of a scene-setter, and it lines things up perfectly for following cut 'Alt50ser' to lock in. This track's churning, gurgling mid-tempo rattle brings to mind the wacky insistence of Modeselektor. Maelstrom repeats the slow-fast one-two again directly afterwards - 'La Vie Sociale Des', a strange nugget that sounds like an early Eski instrumental stripped for parts and blasted into the cosmos, is an ideal prelude to the twitchy space-funk of 'My Digitone'.

Maelstrom's staying power in the electro world comes, in no small part, from his ability to apply his delightfully idiosyncratic choices to some of the genre's staple production tropes. On The FM Tapes, he marks himself out once more as a pleasingly unorthodox talent by taking tracks in unexpected directions to produce surprising - and often rather moving - results.

There are multiple cuts here which channel the more cerebral end of Richard D. James' AFX/Analord output: 'My Digitone' may be a quicksilver techno-electro number, but there's still something cinematic about the synth treatment here which softens the edges; 'Suede's minor-key oscillations bring other CPU veterans like Cygnus and Bochum Welt into view; 'Res 06', one of two Fasme collaborations on the record, is full of pathos even as the beat programming bangs and whirrs throughout.

While there's a deep emotional undercurrent to The FM Tapes, though, Maelstrom's commitment to bringing the thrills surfaces time and again. If 'Res 06' had Maelstrom and Fasme getting wistful, the album's other Fasme link-up 'Trempo' is one of the hardest club joints here, a piece of old-school Detroit energy replete with some great cascading drum production. Indeed, 'Trempo' comes in the middle of a run towards the album's end where Maelstrom takes the handbrake off - there's a wild-eyed sense of fun to 'The Operator' and 'Upside Down DX7' which has one thinking of the zany cut-and-thrust of KiNK's best work.

Maelstrom's latest drop for Sheffield's Central Processing Unit label is an album of leftfield electro numbers that bring both pounding beats and poignant production.

RIYL: KiNK, Modeselektor, Cygnus, Bochum Welt, AFX

MICHELLE’s first project of buoyant R&B tracks was an ode to New York City, the city where all 6 members of the band grew up. But amid the success of that project, 2018’s HEATWAVE, and 2022’s AFTER DINNER WE TALK DREAMS, they left home and broadened their perspective. The band travelled across the U.S. and Europe opening for Gus Dapperton, Arlo Parks, and Mitski, headlining their own shows, and playing festivals.

While writing their new album, Songs About You Specifically, MICHELLE decided to rent out a house in Ojai, California. Surrounded by lizards, the smell of ripe cactus fruit, and endless expanses of sand, they experienced a sense of solitude and closeness they hadn’t before. It shifted the tone of their work. While their earlier music channelled the churning restlessness of the city, these news songs meander and expand into starry shoegaze reveries, slick funk riffs, and lilting 80s synth pop.

Their newfound closeness also helped them write more vulnerable music. On Songs About You Specifically, the band members express their complicated desires, voice their regrets, and own up to their moments of selfishness. By slowing down, cutting out any distractions, and fostering a sense of communal closeness that necessitated honesty, MICHELLE ended up with a collection of songs that feel like the truth.

Black Vinyl. In Rumi's poem A Great Wagon he writes of a place of total acceptance. "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there," It is a boundless, liminal space where we can release the judgments we make and carry of ourselves, and the comparisons to others. When we think of this field, there is a sense of tranquility that only comes when we are undisturbed by the shadow self and see existence as neither bright nor dim, white nor black. But as lead singer Greg Bertens explains, arriving there is a whole different story. "This is a poem I've returned to over the years, and I love the idea of this place, but getting there is life's journey." Bertens adds "I think the longing for and elusiveness of this field is a recurring theme in our music." Field is enveloped by themes of regret, disconnection and frustration but with the space to understand that these feelings are a natural part of the struggle between reconciling the inner and outer self. The Los Angeles/San Francisco-based group have been indie shoegaze stalwarts since their formation in 2001. After two decades and a handful of line-up changes, their extensive discography presents a dynamically textural, lush psychedelic rock that has featured guest appearances by members of Pavement, My Bloody Valentine, and Snow Patrol, among others. 2021's LP We Weren't Here (Sonic Ritual) was hailed for its dense instrumental blanket, where unrelenting hi-hats and heavy kicks exist alongside dreamy drone guitar. This propulsive nature permeates Field, as members Bertens, Noël Brydebell (vocals), Nyles Lannon (guitar), Jason Ruck (synths), Justin LaBo (bass), and Adam Wade (drums) produce a kaleidoscopic sonic landscape. Patient, sprawling instrumentation builds a foundation in which Bertens' themes of endurance, perseverance and clarity can bloom with a considered poise. As a lyricist who writes in response to the instrumental arrangements, rather than a focus on a specific theme or person, Field is a testament to Film School's ability to create in the moment, and to showcase the magic that stems from when we are truly present. With over two decades in the industry, Field cements Film School as a distinct, dominant force in the shoegaze scene. Soaked in an emotionally open, imaginative atmosphere, the album is both singular and expansive, and leaves the door open for a constantly evolving interpretation. Film School have never confined themselves to the rigidity of specifics, and it's on Field that they urge us to look beyond the binary of certainty, and to take a second look.

Mamman Sani"s electronic organ music, first recorded in 1978, made him a national hero in Niger, led to him writing the Niger"s new national anthem, and has long been cherished by aficionados for its unique blend of traditional Nigerien melodies and synth experimentation. Mamman"s music embodies a sense of intimacy, echoing the presence of a solo artist in the room with the listener.

Île Flottante is Mr. Beatnick´s 5th album, following 2023’s Joy In Variation (including the notorious cover of Love on a Real Train) and his well-received off-beat collaboration with London-based avant-garde agitator Richard Greenan – Coasty – this is his first contribution to the International Feel trademark. Probably best known for some big deep house revivalist tunes circa 2013 on the now dormant Don’t Be Afraid record label, Beatnick now converts that aural quality and dimensionality into the Balearic system.
Île Flottante takes its name from the tastiest French pudding of Mr. Beatnick’s childhood holidays. The name, also a jeux de mots - floating island - hinting at the album’s inspirations and sense of identity, as a danceable soundtrack to a fictional island. Explored with high intensity and over a yearlong process, the sounds of the well-worn, but never failing Balearic universes were a mind expanding influence. Think of genre staples like Software, Manuel Goettsching, Mark Barrott, Len Leise, Don Carlos, Gaussian Curve, Joan Bibiloni or Yasuaki Shimuzu.
„I spent a year listening to a lot of synthesized island music, and marveling at the many twinkling wonders of the Balearic musical universe. Struck by a sense of belonging that had often eluded me on my musical journey thus far, as the weirdo at the back of the club who had orbited many scenes for 20 years, but never felt like I fitted in, I found music that made me feel like I had come home. The songs that came out of this process are presented in the order that they were written - an open book of ocean hymns, honest and spoken from the heart.“
Île Flottante tries its very hardest to avoid being any one thing in particular. At one point, it is a gentle beach walk accompanied by polyrhythmic drum plod and flourishes of Guzheng. At another, the infamous James Yancey septuplet swing is repurposed against a marimba melody that wouldn’t be out of place in one of Link’s forest adventures.
Elsewhere, there are the bellows of distant whales, touches of Italian dream house and a splash of vintage madchester, all working to create a space that feels both familiar and loaded with well worn tropes, but with its own quirky sense of personality, facets which are often attributed to Mr. Beatnick’s holistic b-boy approach. This is his understanding of a Balearic (b-boy) stance. Just with a float instead of a freeze.

Permanent Parts is the second album released by visual artist Katharina Grosse (synthesizer) and musician Stefan Schneider (synthesizer; So Sner, To Rococo Rot). Grosse and Schneider were joined at Galerie Max Hetzler on 29 April 2023, performing as part of the Spectrum without Traces exhibition, by three artists who all generally work within improvised music – Carina Khorkhordina (trumpet), Tintin Patrone (trombone and electronics), and Billy Roisz (noise generator, piezo and mini cymbal). Permanent Parts is an extraordinary set of recordings that inhabits multiple zones at once: within its thirty-five minutes, we can hear the interactions of non-idiomatic collective music making, and the electronic glimmers of electro-acoustics, while, at the same time, the music remains untethered to genre.

This capacity to work within liminal zones makes perfect sense when thinking about both Grosse’s and Schneider’s prior work, whether the energetic diffusions and spatial explorations of Grosse’s artistic practice, or the slippery texturology of Schneider’s recent work with electronics. Khorkhordina, Patrone and Roisz all find their own ways into this dynamic, too, and Permanent Parts feels like an equal exchange of presence and contribution; there are no hierarchies here. This might explain the music’s curious sense of development, where several elements are allowed to exist alongside each other, not in direct contact but in a mode that’s somewhere between carefree layering and unconscious juxtaposition. The musicians are listening, but not just with their ears – their skin, their bodies are hearing, too.

When talking about Permanent Parts, Schneider is careful to place it within contexts that are specific, to some degree, but which allow for difference to blossom. “Although it was recorded live, it somehow was not meant to be a documentation of a live event in the first place. The five piece line up that appears on the record had met for the first time only a few hours before the concert took place.” While it might take a leap of faith for all parties to walk together, and so willingly, into a place of such freedom, of such risk, there is clear sympathy here between the musicians, and a shared appreciation of the immediacies of the situation.

It also throws some of our preconceptions about this music out of the window. “The record does not feel like a document of a performance as the music was not pre-composed and there was no reference,” Schneider continues. “Perhaps it was not even an improvisation?” For Grosse, her musical relationship with Schneider similarly shakes free from expectation: “My sound does not exist without Stefan’s. It is neither written down nor is it improvised. It is instantaneous.” When thinking about the five-piece exploration on Permanent Parts and asked to expand on what each musician brings to the table, she continues, “We all love the thrill of an unknown encounter and we seem to have a need for building connections through the thicket of our voices.”

There’s a curious phrase on the back cover of the album, before the artists are listed: “Wir sind eine Batterie / We are a battery.” This sums up the spirit of Permanent Parts. Schneider recalls that Grosse said this phrase to the musicians at the start of the performance. Grosse explains further, “The figure of the battery referred to our placement in the space building out a small circle facing one another from where the sound could spill into the impressive volume of the gallery.” The battery as an arrangement of similar devices; but I also think of charge, and the conversion of chemical energy, and of fortification. It’s a poetic metaphor that sums up much of the febrile pleasure of the music contained on these Permanent Parts.

– Jon Dale, Melbourne

German Powerhouse Labels Public Possession and Running Back Team up to bring you a nostalgic tribute to 80s Disco-Synth-Pop and Balkan Self-Pity. In a blend of cultural nostalgia and contemporary resonance, be-friended artists Krystal Klear and La Raf are set to release their first collaborative record titled "Boli Boli" (It hurts, it hurts) this autumn. The record is a steamy homage to the 80s disco-synth-pop. La Raf’s vocals equipped with Krystal Klear’s sound remind us of the bittersweet memories of the bygone yet still beloved music-era from former Yugoslavia.
The song came to life during a spontaneous creative outburst when Krystal and Raf reunited in a studio in London last year. Singer La Raf, a Croatian native based in Berlin, channeled the raw emotions of a not so recent break-up regret into the lyrics of "Boli Boli."
Infused with Balkan self-pity, the song delivers a very personal experience of pain and regret, not as mere sorrow but as a confident, joyful indulgence in one's own grief. This emotional depth finds a perfect counterpart in Krystal Klear’s talent for crafting melodies
that evoke both happiness and melancholia. Together, they have created a track that is as introspective as it is danceable, offering its listeners a glimpse into a world where sadness is embraced with a sense of pride and joy, capturing the cultural tapestry of the Balkan region.

Aesthetically, Ed Schrader’s Music Beat hates to tread water. At the same time, the Baltimore-based two-piece of vocalist Ed Schrader and bassist Devlin Rice won’t force their songs to fit a preconceived style. “The next album’s always gotta be different from the last one. We’re different people from record to record. So, writing authentically to ourselves will always bring our work to a place that we haven’t been to yet,” Rice said. Schrader added, “We’re terrified of turning into AC/DC. We never want to be married to one scene or time or sound. We want to be the Boba Fett of bands! Constantly altering the way in which we make records has been pretty key in that process.”
For Orchestra Hits, the band’s latest, that alteration was welcoming longtime musical comrade Dylan Going into the fold as a co-writer and co-producer. A songwriter in his own right, a guitar sideman for ESMB on their last two tours, and a collaborator with Rice in the noise riffage band Mandate, Going had both a unique vision and an intimate familiarity with the ESMB vibe.
“Dylan came to every show we’ve ever played in New York—no matter how weird it was,” Schrader said. “He’d be standing there ready to move an amp or feed us barbecued cactus after the gig and toss on some Golden Girls so we could decompress. It felt like family as soon as we began working, but I honestly had no idea how damn good he was at tossing out these hooks.”
According to Schrader, the songs “just poured out of us” over the course of a highly caffeinated three-day weekend in a tiny room in Devlin’s house while his cat, Sandy Goose, screamed continually. “It was like three kids hiding from the world to get into some lovely mischief,” they said. The lack of external pressure in the process gives Orchestra Hits an almost paradoxical vibe. For all of the album’s layers, that mix live and sequenced instruments, it never loses the raw energy of a small handful of friends in the same room plugging in, cranking up, and playing until they pass out.
Lyrically, the album finds Schrader, now 45, meditating on experiences in their youth to make sense of the present moment. “We are not into the garden,” Schrader wails on the relentless “Roman Candle,” a song about the sad debacle of Woodstock ’99, and a direct response to Joni Mitchell’s “Woodstock,” a utopian ode to hippie idealism. A 19-year-old Schrader, having snuck into Woodstock ’99 through a hole in the fence, was there the night members of the crowd used candles intended for a vigil for victims of the Columbine High School massacre to set fires all over the grounds. Even before the fires, Schrader remembered feeling disconnected from the music, the nostalgic cash grab, and the meatheads in the crowd. After watching a press tower collapse, they boarded a random shuttle bus and were dropped off near a Denny’s. “It was a far cry from the Garden of Eden,” Schrader said. “That experience defined what I didn’t want to be a part of, and yet America is more like Woodstock ’99 than ever.”
With percolating synthesizer arpeggios, and climbing bass grooves, “IDKS” is the album’s dance-floor slapper. “’IDKS’ is a funny one,” Schrader said. “We already had a pretty satisfying suite of songs when Dylan was packing up to head back to New York, but he missed the train because of a freak snowstorm. Realizing he’d be stuck in town another day, he says to me, ‘Here’s this other weird thing I have.’ It was ‘IDKS.’ The hooks were so good I felt like Homer Simpson at a free donut convention. I just dove right in, and we cranked that baby out in like 20 minutes.”
Lyrically, “IDKS” is a letter from the true self to public-facing self. “It’s an angry song,” Schrader said. “Because the public-facing self is always looking for an easy escape, but it forces the true self into a cage. I honestly thought my lyrics were corny and was about to change them, but Dylan was digging it just the way it was. So that’s what you hear.”
With the soaring “Daylight Commander,” the band went against all of their musty-basement-bred instincts. “I went full High School Musical with the vocals,” Schrader said. “At first it felt almost embarrassing, but I remember reading somewhere that Bowie recommended always floating a little bit above your comfort zone, and that’s what we did here.” The song is part exercise in absurdity and part pop Trojan horse. “If ever we had a ‘Shiny Happy People’ moment, I guess this is it,” Schrader said.