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,Paradessence", das dritte Album von Visible Cloaks, ist ein Werk der Entstehung und Illusion. Die vierzehn Songs des Albums verschieben, heben und schimmern vor einem schwach leuchtenden Hintergrund der Nacht, einem höhlenartigen Raum, der durch spärliche hyperreale Darstellungen der natürlichen Welt geformt wird. Die Arrangements sind gleichzeitig grandios und zerbrechlich, sowohl eine Umkehrung als auch eine Kulmination dessen, was zuvor kam, und so abenteuerlich wie alles, was sie bisher produziert haben. Seit ihrer Umwandlung von Cloaks zu Visible Cloaks im Jahr 2014 haben Spencer Doran und Ryan Carlile eine komplexe Matrix gegensätzlicher Konzepte entworfen: organisch und künstlich, zufällig und bewusst, authentisch und repliziert. Der Albumtitel, der aus dem satirischen Portmanteau des Autors Alex Shakar aus ,paradox" und ,essence" stammt, spiegelt diese Spannungen direkt wider: Die Paradessence von Konsumgütern ist der ,schismatische Kern", der ihre Attraktivität ausmacht (in Shakars Beispiel ist Kaffee begehrt, weil er gleichzeitig entspannend und anregend wirkt). Der Balanceakt von Paradessence verleiht diesen Spannungen eine größere Dringlichkeit, da das Leben im 21. Jahrhundert durch eben diese Spannungen neu geordnet wird. Stille ist ein wichtiger Charakter in Paradessence, der nicht nur in der Gestaltung des Klangs zu spüren ist, sondern auch in dem Druck, den er auf alles und alles, was entsteht, ausübt. Die Gruppe ließ sich vom Konzept des ,positiven Raums" des Architekturtheoretikers Christopher Alexander beeinflussen, einer Idee, dass der Form der Leere um ein Objekt herum die gleiche Aufmerksamkeit geschenkt werden kann wie der Konstruktion des Objekts selbst. Wir hören, wie Klänge ihre eigene Stille in sich tragen, zwischen Existenz und Nicht-Existenz oszillieren und wie Mikroorganismen Lebenszyklen durchlaufen. Die Instrumente, die Paradessence untermauern, haben etwas Kollektives an sich. Sie bewegen sich wie eine Herde, so wie wenn der Wind über ein Feld voller Blätter weht und die Luft in der Abwesenheit von Bewegung sichtbar wird; mehrere Arten leben in derselben Melodie zusammen, treten hervor, ziehen sich zurück und verwandeln sich im Laufe von mehreren Minuten. ,Anstatt Stücke zu schaffen, die horizontal als Umgebungen funktionieren", sagt Doran, ,wollten wir sie als lebendes Material konzipieren, das sich im Raum verändert und ständig im Fluss ist." Die Songformen entfernen sich von der Atmosphäre und tendieren zur reinen Abstraktion. Utopismus schwebt am Rande; eine Beziehung zu imaginären Zukünften, die weder naiv, zynisch noch nostalgisch ist. Die Welt, die Visible Cloaks im Laufe der Zeit aufgebaut haben, wird oft von Mitwirkenden physisch umgesetzt, von denen eine vertraute Besetzung für Paradessence zurückkehrt. Motion Graphics (Joe Williams) ist auf ,synthetic woodwinds" zu hören und hat das Album mitgemischt, wobei er ihm mit seinem charakteristischen Glanz Kontur verliehen hat. Die miteinander verbundenen Stücke ,Shapes" und ,Thinking" wurden zusammen mit den Innovatoren der Umweltmusik Yoshio Ojima und Satsuki Shibano entwickelt, die auch mit dem Duo an der generationsübergreifenden FRKWYS-Kollaboration serenitatem gearbeitet haben. Das letztere Stück enthält einen von Ojima verfassten gesprochenen Text, der von Shibano auf Japanisch und von der Komponistin und langjährigen Freundin Félicia Atkinson auf Französisch gelesen wird. Das Componium Ensemble, Dorans Projekt für ,unbestimmte Kammermusik" mit selbstspielenden Software-Instrumenten, bildet die Grundlage für ,System" in einem Moment von Pessoa-scher Heteronymie. Auf dem Album ist auch Ioana Selaru zu hören, eine rumänische Komponistin und Violinistin, die ,Intarsia" mit ihrer Stimme und ihrem Streicherspiel bereichert. Doran beschreibt ihre Zusammenarbeit als ,eine Übung in illusorischer Präsenz", die sie gemeinsam aus ,der Idee entwickelt haben, ihr reales Instrumentenspiel virtuellen Instrumenten gegenüberzustellen, um die Grenzen zwischen synthetischen Streichinstrumenten und denen, die in der Realität existieren, zu verwischen". Selarus energiegeladene Darbietung in ,Intarsia" ist ein deutlicher Beweis für den dramatischen Kern von Paradessence: ein dringliches skulpturales Unterfangen, ein Instrument und eine menschliche Stimme, moduliert von einem Meer synthetischen Wachstums. Doran beschreibt, wie für ihn ,dieses Verschieben zwischen dem Realen und dem Virtuellen etwas ganz anderes einfängt, etwas Seltsames und Unbeschreibliches, das ein fester Bestandteil des Lebens in der digitalen Moderne ist, sowohl online als auch im realen Leben". Es ist elektronische Musik, die nicht nur durch ihre wechselnden Formen eine abstrakte Darstellung unserer aktuellen Traumrealität heraufbeschwört, sondern auch imaginäre Räume schafft, die emotional nuanciert sind und zu Momenten der Anmut führen.

,Paradessence", das dritte Album von Visible Cloaks, ist ein Werk der Entstehung und Illusion. Die vierzehn Songs des Albums verschieben, heben und schimmern vor einem schwach leuchtenden Hintergrund der Nacht, einem höhlenartigen Raum, der durch spärliche hyperreale Darstellungen der natürlichen Welt geformt wird. Die Arrangements sind gleichzeitig grandios und zerbrechlich, sowohl eine Umkehrung als auch eine Kulmination dessen, was zuvor kam, und so abenteuerlich wie alles, was sie bisher produziert haben. Seit ihrer Umwandlung von Cloaks zu Visible Cloaks im Jahr 2014 haben Spencer Doran und Ryan Carlile eine komplexe Matrix gegensätzlicher Konzepte entworfen: organisch und künstlich, zufällig und bewusst, authentisch und repliziert. Der Albumtitel, der aus dem satirischen Portmanteau des Autors Alex Shakar aus ,paradox" und ,essence" stammt, spiegelt diese Spannungen direkt wider: Die Paradessence von Konsumgütern ist der ,schismatische Kern", der ihre Attraktivität ausmacht (in Shakars Beispiel ist Kaffee begehrt, weil er gleichzeitig entspannend und anregend wirkt). Der Balanceakt von Paradessence verleiht diesen Spannungen eine größere Dringlichkeit, da das Leben im 21. Jahrhundert durch eben diese Spannungen neu geordnet wird. Stille ist ein wichtiger Charakter in Paradessence, der nicht nur in der Gestaltung des Klangs zu spüren ist, sondern auch in dem Druck, den er auf alles und alles, was entsteht, ausübt. Die Gruppe ließ sich vom Konzept des ,positiven Raums" des Architekturtheoretikers Christopher Alexander beeinflussen, einer Idee, dass der Form der Leere um ein Objekt herum die gleiche Aufmerksamkeit geschenkt werden kann wie der Konstruktion des Objekts selbst. Wir hören, wie Klänge ihre eigene Stille in sich tragen, zwischen Existenz und Nicht-Existenz oszillieren und wie Mikroorganismen Lebenszyklen durchlaufen. Die Instrumente, die Paradessence untermauern, haben etwas Kollektives an sich. Sie bewegen sich wie eine Herde, so wie wenn der Wind über ein Feld voller Blätter weht und die Luft in der Abwesenheit von Bewegung sichtbar wird; mehrere Arten leben in derselben Melodie zusammen, treten hervor, ziehen sich zurück und verwandeln sich im Laufe von mehreren Minuten. ,Anstatt Stücke zu schaffen, die horizontal als Umgebungen funktionieren", sagt Doran, ,wollten wir sie als lebendes Material konzipieren, das sich im Raum verändert und ständig im Fluss ist." Die Songformen entfernen sich von der Atmosphäre und tendieren zur reinen Abstraktion. Utopismus schwebt am Rande; eine Beziehung zu imaginären Zukünften, die weder naiv, zynisch noch nostalgisch ist. Die Welt, die Visible Cloaks im Laufe der Zeit aufgebaut haben, wird oft von Mitwirkenden physisch umgesetzt, von denen eine vertraute Besetzung für Paradessence zurückkehrt. Motion Graphics (Joe Williams) ist auf ,synthetic woodwinds" zu hören und hat das Album mitgemischt, wobei er ihm mit seinem charakteristischen Glanz Kontur verliehen hat. Die miteinander verbundenen Stücke ,Shapes" und ,Thinking" wurden zusammen mit den Innovatoren der Umweltmusik Yoshio Ojima und Satsuki Shibano entwickelt, die auch mit dem Duo an der generationsübergreifenden FRKWYS-Kollaboration serenitatem gearbeitet haben. Das letztere Stück enthält einen von Ojima verfassten gesprochenen Text, der von Shibano auf Japanisch und von der Komponistin und langjährigen Freundin Félicia Atkinson auf Französisch gelesen wird. Das Componium Ensemble, Dorans Projekt für ,unbestimmte Kammermusik" mit selbstspielenden Software-Instrumenten, bildet die Grundlage für ,System" in einem Moment von Pessoa-scher Heteronymie. Auf dem Album ist auch Ioana Selaru zu hören, eine rumänische Komponistin und Violinistin, die ,Intarsia" mit ihrer Stimme und ihrem Streicherspiel bereichert. Doran beschreibt ihre Zusammenarbeit als ,eine Übung in illusorischer Präsenz", die sie gemeinsam aus ,der Idee entwickelt haben, ihr reales Instrumentenspiel virtuellen Instrumenten gegenüberzustellen, um die Grenzen zwischen synthetischen Streichinstrumenten und denen, die in der Realität existieren, zu verwischen". Selarus energiegeladene Darbietung in ,Intarsia" ist ein deutlicher Beweis für den dramatischen Kern von Paradessence: ein dringliches skulpturales Unterfangen, ein Instrument und eine menschliche Stimme, moduliert von einem Meer synthetischen Wachstums. Doran beschreibt, wie für ihn ,dieses Verschieben zwischen dem Realen und dem Virtuellen etwas ganz anderes einfängt, etwas Seltsames und Unbeschreibliches, das ein fester Bestandteil des Lebens in der digitalen Moderne ist, sowohl online als auch im realen Leben". Es ist elektronische Musik, die nicht nur durch ihre wechselnden Formen eine abstrakte Darstellung unserer aktuellen Traumrealität heraufbeschwört, sondern auch imaginäre Räume schafft, die emotional nuanciert sind und zu Momenten der Anmut führen.

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

The sibling duo behind the music on Graceful Degradation — organ and drums, nothing more, nothing less — carve out a sound that feels unmistakably organic in a world drifting steadily toward the synthetic. Their interplay is entirely live, subtle in its details yet dynamic in its momentum, built on the kind of instinctive communication only brothers can share.
The music is fully instrumental, unfolding in a borderland where dreamy retro pop dissolves into the hazy textures of shoegaze and the unruly pulse of noisy, electronic leaning jazz. It’s a sonic world that feels both familiar and elusive, nostalgic yet inherently restless. Melodies shimmer and blur, rhythms swell and contract, and the space between the notes becomes as expressive as the notes themselves.
What emerges is a sound that resists easy categorization: warm but unpredictable, intimate yet expansive, grounded in the physicality of two musicians performing in real time. The organ breathes like a living organism, shifting from soft focus ambience to swirling, saturated harmonics, while the drums move with a fluid, human elasticity — sometimes whisper quiet, sometimes erupting with raw, kinetic force.
In this in between terrain, the duo has always found its identity and its freedom. Their music doesn’t chase perfection; it chases presence. It embraces imperfection, celebrates spontaneity, and insists on staying alive in a landscape where so much is becoming weightless and automated.
This is instrumental music with a pulse: subtle, dynamic, and unmistakably human.

The new album by L.Y.R., their third commercial release, begins with the idea that the furthest points of light - stars - can only be seen in the dark. It’s a kind of contradiction that finds musical expression in these new tracks, the band always navigating towards sightings of hopefulness and constancy in an increasingly bewildering and storm-battered world.

The term dark sky reservation has its origins in environmentalism, and several tracks on the album deal with the messed-up weather of our contemporary planet, both meteorological and psychological, from descriptions of an earth deluged by thunderstorms to the soggy back-gardens of suburbia, a climate crisis brought on by rampant urbanism. In that context, dark sky reservations are those regions of the landscape where light pollution is discouraged and even outlawed, to allow scientists and casual stargazers to peer into the cosmos and see the glory of the constellations, patterns of light that have entranced and mystified us for hundreds of thousands of years.

It’s from those designated zones that human beings get a sense of their place in the universe, and experience the wonder of the here and now against a context of eternity and infinity. An alternative to the hectic craziness of everyday life, so often virtual and synthetic, the dark sky reservation is a place of refuge and dreaming, and like L.Y.R.’s music, such spaces are earmarked for contemplation and thoughtfulness.

L.Y.R. is author and current British poet laureate Simon Armitage, singer-songwriter Richard Walters and multi-instrumentalist & producer Patrick Pearson.

Transmitting from deep in the Finnish underground, Nazar sends out a signal of mysterious, synthetic auras and shadowy, skittering sequences. From smoky outsider techno to rainy-day electro abstraction, the label’s emphasis is on expression and intrigue as each release reaches across the energetic spectrum of moody machine music.

The first release on Nazar presents a cast of protagonists from the Helsinki scene who share precisely the kind of nocturnal tendencies the label is seeking out. Seasoned duo General Electrix open up the A side with ‘Redshifter’, a silken web of 606-powered electro and warmly haunted synth work that nods to the early years of Autechre. Making an early step out into the public domain, Asyx follows up swiftly with the exquisitely detailed machine funk of ‘kVelorum ‘, where a vivid tapestry of noise, squelch and bleep techno gets smartly woven between airy pad tones and a rock-solid rhythm section.

On the B side, Helsinki mainstay Kaiunta brings a dramatic flourish to mid tempo creeper ‘Phantasm’, matching a densely packed rumble of live drums with sweeps of nervy atmospherics and a murky inversion of the classic gated trance lead. 53X rounds out the Nazar mission towards broad BPMs and fresh ideas with a crunchy swerve towards sample-heavy downtempo laced with a generous dose of psychedelics and angular noise.

NAZAR001 is the kind of record that yields surprises and slots into unexpected moments depending on when and where the needle drops, providing versatile moments for adventurous selectors and continuing the fine tradition of outsider electro and techno from Finland.

To decay is also to transform. Rusting metal is the visible traces of passing time, as the oxidation process accumulates dampness in our atmosphere and imprints it as unpredictable patterns onto hard iron and steel. Working in construction for a year now, Kensho Nakamura sees rust all the time, clambering up ageing chunks of material. Normally discarded as waste, Nakamura began discerning beauty in the phenomenon, organically spiralling around and consuming some of the very hardest of manufacturing stuffs into unique new forms.

‘Electric Rust’ continues the conceptual electronic composition mode of Nakamura’s previous works with a series of fractured musical dioramas. These scurrying notes, sparse hums, and quivering bleeps explore the topics of rust and the accumulation of time. The music ticks like a clock, drips like a tap, and manifests unknowable inorganic shapes. Recognisable musical snippets of bells, pianos, or murmured voices are buried inside counterintuitive synthetic rhythms and tension.

On ‘wet air’ piano notes tinkle and pipes gargle, digital detritus tap dances and arpeggios stumble. On ‘unique faces’, idle marimbas and malfunctioning animalistic squeaks flounder. This is music from the promethean space between being forgotten and being conceived. ‘Electric Rust’ is a topography of a world of rust, where corroding structures evolve into new — and beautiful — patterns of life.

A1 | Carlos Native – Be Yourself
Andalusian producer Carlos Native unfolds an almost cinematic sensibility: a slow, introspective piece where a hypnotic bassline and wide, horizontal backgrounds build an inner journey rather than a track aimed at immediate impact.

A2 | Slit Observers – Synthmek
The Galician duo present a hard, high-energy work. Industrial-driven drums demand movement, while an aggressive, sharp arpeggiated bass defines a sonic identity with no concessions.

A3 | Negocius Man – 8N8
The Madrid-based veteran constructs 8N8 with modular precision: each sound falls into place with an almost architectural logic. The result is a synthetic, measured and structured piece shaped by years of experience.

B1 | Allumynd – Chestcollider
Making their debut on the electro scene, Allumynd delivers an original and daring track. An otherworldly snare and a woven vocal structure turn this piece into a clear example of new-generation electro: atmospheric and bold.

B2 | Komatssu – Non Servian
The Asturian producer, under his Komatssu alias, opts for continuous evolution without a kick drum as support. The track works like an organism that grows and transforms as it progresses, generating a hypnotic and mature effect.

B3 | Irrational Language feat. Lucky – We Are Comming Back
Irrational Language dives into braindance with meticulous technical production: drums filled with micro-artifacts, luminous synthesizers, and Lucky’s vocals processed and spatialized to reinforce a narrative of rebirth and emerging from darkness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The inimitable Richard Youngs returns to Black Truffle with this third full-length for the label, Hidden. Like CXXI and Modern Sorrow, Hidden unfolds across two side-long pieces at once eminently listenable and possessed of the ‘bloody-minded’ dedication to ‘having an idea and sticking with it’ that Youngs himself has identified as one of the key qualities of his work.

At the core of both pieces are rapid, randomised arpeggios generated with a Moog Grandmother, hypnotic patterns that wouldn’t be out of place on a Berlin School classic. Alongside these arpeggios, across the seventeen minutes of the first side-long piece Youngs builds an airy structure of shakers, synthetic handclaps and a brief, repeated sample, impossible to identify but sounding like a glitched foghorn. Over the top we hear his unmistakable voice, repeating single syllables—Ha, Ho—with a slow delay, something like a lonely one-man-band take on Anthony Moore’s Pieces from the Cloudland Ballroom or a more musical elaboration of the hypnotically overlapping delayed phonemes of Anton Bruhin’s Rotomotor. Like much of Youngs' work, the arrangement of sounds is sparse, each layer punctuated by spaces that allow others to shine through, in a way that seems to have more to do with dub or early hip-hop than high-brow models of musical reductionism.

On the flipside, the arpeggios return, now accompanied by ringing, filtered guitar chords and long flute tones. The use of a similar ground layer across the two pieces with strikingly different overdubs calls up Youngs' first solo record, the classic Advent, reminding us of how consistent ‘theme and variations’ is as an approach in his enormous body of work. Joined by handclaps and a chiming sound, the piece almost feels like it is about to achieve dance-floor lift-off at times, only for the percussion to disappear and leave the listener once again floating among the guitar and flute, now joined by occasional cut-off vocal snippets, like a radio turned quickly on and off. The suspension of these disparate elements over the steady foundation of the Moog arpeggios might remind some listeners of the free-form studio explorations of Moebius & Plank and Holger Czukay or even give a nod to Youngs’ formative encounter with Cabaret Voltaire.

Like some of Youngs’ much-loved work with Simon Wickham-Smith, Hidden approaches relatively familiar sounds and instruments from skewed angles, delighting in loose structures of interaction that border on gleeful incoherence while remaining outwardly beautiful. Coming up to almost four decades of persistent activity, like little else in contemporary music Youngs’ work beams with the simple joys of exploration and experiment.



Slip is Paul Abbott’s response to his 3 day residency at OTO in 2023. It’s a continued exploration of the acoustic-digital hybrid drum setup Abbott has been developing for some time, which involves drum kit and synthetic sounds combined closely—through an entanglement of limbs and cables—in an intimate but strange relationship with each other.

Paul Abbott hasn’t had any formal musical training, but has a long history of making music, having collaborated for years with Seymour Wright, Pat Thomas, Michael Speers, Cara Tolmie, Anne Gillis and many others. Eventually, led by a profound suspicion of what is fixed or limited, Abbott began finding other ways to organise sound - or what he calls ‘material’:

“I wanted a way to 'persuade' or guide the possibility of something happening - my activity or the events of an algorithmic composition - for example, but without certainty or formalism. It felt to me, during playing, that certain ideas had a particular sort of shape, but more than the form of a line. I began to write alongside (before/after) playing the drums, and ‘characters’ began to enter the scene as a more wobbly, and therefore appropriate option to notation. Working with these characters allowed me to simultaneously approach body, imagination, language and music: without dividing things up or separating these aspects from each other. It allowed me to leave things messy and entangled, whilst trying to deal with form and specificity: wanting to have some things feel or respond differently to other things at other times.”

In approaching his residency, Abbott developed a fixed cast of characters - crystal, lleaf, reiy.F, reiy.C, strike, nee, qosel, sphu and aahn. They each communicate using different kinds of movement and drum kit/s, and Abbott choreographed them as ‘dances’ based on different feelings, or outlines of behaviours suggestive of ways of moving (body, drums, sounds). He then arranged these characters into ‘compositions’: one for each performance day, with each composition featuring multi-layered activity - options for behaviours, ways to move around the rooms, play drums, develop synthetic sounds, change the lights or re-distribute the sound in the space.

After the performances, Abbott took home 9 hours of recordings split into up to 28 multitrack channels for each day, and re-organised his cast once more into a performance for 2LP, CD and digital. It’s an enormous amount of work - but Abbott is activated by the process. For him, the pleasure of unstable edges, possibilities, slippages, is the vital attraction. Like all living organisms, Abbott’s characters have malleability and responsivity. They stimulate a bundle of possible behaviours, a tendency to act a certain way, a temperament, a boundary of respective limits or affordances.

It’s an affective way of working, inclusive of Roscoe Mitchell, Sun Ra, Nathaniel Mackey and Milford Graves. In ‘Pulseology’(2022), Milford Graves reminds us, ‘Breath varies, so cardiac rhythm never has that (metronomic) tempo. It’s always changing. All the alignments of the heart are determined based on the needs of the cells, specifically tissues and organs. The heart knows if it needs to speed up.’ In Slip, to slip, in a heartbeat, is to descend not into the grid of the even metre accorded to the heartbeat, but into a play of mutability and modality. To change is the condition of the heart.

Cornel Wilczek (Talk To Me, Bring Her Back) crafts an incredible score for this body horror future classic from director Michael Shanks, blending the organic and synthetic, merging them to create something new, mesmerising, calm, eerie yet beautiful and oddly melodic. Disembodied voices flow in and out of soundscapes made up of traditional acoustic instruments, strings, and synthesisers. At first listen, the score seems very minimalist, but with repeated listening, it reveals these amazing earworms that stick in your mind. It’s a truly lovely, otherworldly listen, ideal for late nights and headphones.

Wrong Filament embodies Robert Piotrowicz's creation of fictional traditional music - not studied but invented, a utopian and oniric construct that becomes tangible in sound. These imagined traditions act as communal forces of music-making, resisting dominant structures of power.

The album unfolds in six dense compositions built on rhythm, repetition and minimal melodic gestures that draw on archetypal patterns of Eastern European traditions. Entirely synthetic yet strikingly instrumental in character, they develop as autonomous sound events, expanding into multi-part forms that evoke the physicality of ensemble performance - as if played by an imagined community of musicians.

Rather than reconstruction, Piotrowicz invents forged dances - a pre-techno of sorts, where complex meters and dense textures point to a parallel history of collective sound beyond industrial uniformity. They imagine a utopian and fictional genealogy of collective sound: one where industrial modernity yields to more unstable, communal energies.

This is celebratory music with invocatory charge: calls to dance, echoes of ceremony, microtonal melodies shaped by emotional weight, and traces of Eastern ornamentation stretched through synthetic means. Wrong Filament sacralises performance through sound alone, spinning a world where spectres of collective experience vibrate against the limits of rupture and resistance.

These pieces confront the traces of violence inscribed in body and memory, yet also affirm freedom, emancipation and integration. They manifest celebration, identity and resistance while opening a path toward liberation and shared needs that exceed social, private and intimate categories.

Editions Mego presents Bosko, landing exactly 30 years after the initial General Magic flights into the fantastic; the legendary first Mego release, a collaboration with Pita whereby all sounds were harnessed from the buzzing, drinking, humming sounds of fridges MEGO 001 General Magic & Pita and a 12” with Elin called Die Mondlandung (The Moon Landing) MEGO 002 which embarked on a minimal techno template so austere and strange it was one of the historic progenitors of austere and wonky rhythms alongside Sakho and other European explorers.

The initial return of the playful and mystical Austrian outfit General Magic came with the 20th year anniversary vinyl reissue of their classic debut Frantz eMEGO 010. A record so audacious and playful it still baffles as much as it entertains. At some point whilst working on this reissue GM’s Ramon Bauer and Andi Pieper were spurred on to rummage around with ideas and tools once more and after more than two decades of inactivity sonic sorcery was conjured once again. Live shows in honour of Peter Rehberg were performed in Vienna and London. Softbop, a limited risograph collaboration with Tina Frank came with the first new recordings as a digital download came out discreetly online. The first full length album following Rechenkönig in 2000 MEGO 032 “Nein Aber Ja” released in 2023 on Finlay Shakespeare’s GOTO Records on CD and cassette. An ongoing series of mix tapes online further highlights their interests encapsulating a new found angle on electronic mayhem. All of these elements retain the wildly eclectic and ecstatic glow that only they can harness and hand out to an unprepared world.

Now, we have General Magic’s second official full length comeback recording, Bosko. The new album is initially notable prior to the needle hitting the wax or the cursor identifying a track due to the artwork. Made by long term collaborator Tina Frank, this is Frank’s first analogue artwork, with a painting of a happy/nervous machine thing hovering in a landscape of no discernible identity. It’s quasi science fiction hovering amongst the potential for fun. Suited to the music? Natürlich.

Bosko sees Bauer and Pieper update and reframe their original investigations with a fresh supply of head scratching, heart racing tunes that hit the inexplicable with a wild mesh of drums, pianos, synthetic voices and all manner of immaterial sonic play. Startling sonics shock the ears on Club Duchamp which sounds like a conversation between synthetic adult ants in an environment still in development. Elfer features vocals supplied by a female-ish voice who, whilst grappling melody, has trouble executing a firm identity. Noorenhalt catapults along a mainframe of syncopation so unwieldy it feels like the voice, which is utterly alien, provides the only comfort. Seite 5 inhabits a fuzzy zone where a synthetic Horn of Jericho type ambience competes with rhythms never quite sure of who they are. Rise of the Ombré raises the spectral dread. Is this Science Fact? Absolutely nothing within Bosko is predictable.

The amount of change in the miasma of existence and the things we touch in order to make things has shifted so exponentially we are at the point where minds are starting to glaze over. All of this makes the return of the always original, always surprising, always fresh and exciting General Magic totally in tune with the artificial intelligent apocalyptic age we currently inhabit. The tools may have changed but the wonderfully warped gaze of Bosko offers a fresh new vision of perplexing funk and robotic punk.

Indonesian duo Kuntari make music that's so distinctive, they had to devise their own genre: primal-core. On Mutu Beton, multiinstrumentalist Tesla Manaf and percussionist Rio Abror dialog with both history and their tropical surroundings in Bandung, West Java's mountainous capital. Using the cornet and hulusi, a free reed instrument made from a bottle gourd and bamboo pipes, Manaf echoes the bellows of local elephants, orangutans and rhinos, grazing Abror's ancestral Indonesian rhythms with potent overdriven riffs and evocative microtonal chimes.

It's music that's profoundly atmospheric and simultaneously raw, recorded live to fully encapsulate the dynamic and deeply human interaction between the two seasoned players. There are elements of sludge metal, noise and post-hardcore, references to traditional folk music and jazz, and gestures towards sound art, 20th century minimalism and dark ambient, but what Kuntari do is completely idiosyncratic -- it's hardly surprising it needed a similarly unique categorization.

Manaf started Kuntari as a solo project, debuting in 2020 with Black Shirt Attracts More Feather and animating his nimble instrumental improvisations with bold electronic processes and booming synthetic drums. And by the time he recorded 2022's acclaimed Last Boy Picked, his approach had evolved significantly; prioritizing organic sounds, he played prepared cornet and piano, bringing in additional percussionists to help devise a ritualistic rhythm section. Abror was one of those performers, and ended up sticking around, playing on 2023's furious LARYNX/STRIDULA, the stylistic precursor for Mutu Beton. At this stage, the duo have racked up a litany of accolades and collaborated with a spectrum of like-minded artists, from noise deity Keiji Haino to fellow Indonesian free-thinker Rully Shabara, who's best known for his work with Senyawa and avant-garde supergroup Osmium. Mutu Beton plays like a lap of honor, showcasing their most kinetic and most feral recordings to date. Kuntari surpass their own high standards, folding history and geography in on itself and suggesting a trailblazing Indonesian cultural movement that's not restricted by highbrow Western conventions. It's not just automation and technology that drives progression, it's interaction and observation. And there's nothing more primal, or revolutionary, than that.

LP comes with 24 page 8.5x11 full color booklet. In the blurred and memorial hallways of bygone time, to remember is to wander between the rooms of our own experiences, to appear and disappear, like a play of overlapping shadows. In music set drifting through the architecture of his own memories, Moses Brown weaves a story that oscillates between the past and the present, like a mason turning over stones to reconstruct his childhood home in this beautiful and disquieting soundtrack to growing up. On Stone Upon Stone, Moses' first solo LP attributed to his given name after several releases under the brilliant and despondent "Peace de Resistance" moniker, he moves sidelong into the realm of soundtracks with this score to the construction of his childhood home in a story spanning 1993-2023. Laid out in lush and provocative minimalist instrumentals, the album unfolds a story about the planning, partial construction, and dissolution of a home in constant state of becoming through the lens of its only child, coming of age under flux. Influenced by the approach of friends and collaborators Straw Man Army's OST to Charles Darwin's Voyage of the Beagle, Stone Upon Stone was originally intended as a soundtrack to a novel of the same name by Wieslaw Mysliwski, an epic set in Poland about a family's construction of a mausoleum. Struck by the story's parallels with his own family's project, he got the idea to complete the work as a personal narrative. Created from layers of different mellotron voices then separated, re-amplified, and recorded as if they were a sitting chamber orchestra, the music eerily blurs the line between human and synthetic, giving way to something akin to a memory with it's blurriness of fact and fiction. In the same spirit of association, this record is certainly influenced by other minimalists working within the confines of "soundtrack", like Philip Glass' North Star and the film work of Michael Nyman. But Brown's soundtrack works within its own peculiar depth of field, living in the listener's imagination, thriving in its own sense of loneliness, aspiration, and confusion that only childhood can evoke. Listeners will feel the entropy of aging in Stone Upon Stone, like a memoir in cascading tones, that sets it apart from so much else in DIY music, and rewards with repeated listens. For Fans of Philip Glass, Kali Malone, Julius Eastman, Mica Levi, Roedelius.

New pressing for this album, in translucent highlighter yellow. Inspired by minimal pop and the pioneers of electronic music, LES MANIÈRES DE TABLE, Annie-Claude Deschênes’ first solo album, is as danceable and melodic as it is disquieting and dystopian, proposing to set the table differently by deconstructing the social codes of politeness imposed on us. Conceived during the lockdown to overcome the surrounding inactivity, the songs that make up LES MANIÈRES DE TABLE were not intended to be released. It was by familiarizing herself with new technologies (drum machines, sequencers) that the conceptual and aesthetic ideas that define the album began to develop organically. Through producing beats composed from samples of utensils, table etiquette became a source of inspiration, a form of conformity that she enjoyed deconstructing. At the same time, a fascination for surveillance cameras and other futuristic-looking, but already obsolete technologies became part of her visual universe. Her experiments gradually evolved into a full-fledged project reminiscent of the works of the pioneers of electronic music. The album is inspired by Steve Reich’s minimalism, Kraftwerk’s synthetic textures, Herbie Hancock’s stylistic diversity and experimental cinema’s non-traditional approach to narration.

In recent years, Blackploid has come to be one of Central Processing Unit's signature artists. The German producer has averaged more than a record a year for the Sheffield imprint since he first landed on CPU in 2021. This prolific run continues withCosmic Drama, Blackploid's second LP for the label. The album takes the baton from its predecessorEnter Universein style, delivering twelve tracks of top-quality machine-funk that draw down from electro's classic artists while also imbuing proceedings with a playfulness that very much gives things a signature Blackploid-ish flavour.

Cosmic Dramasets its stall out from the off. The opening run of 'Alien', 'World Construction' and 'Virtual State' all deliver piston-snapping beats which anchor pleasing melanges of B-movie synth lines. Alongside this, Blackploid adds little flourishes which add buoyancy to each joint - a syncopated bassline reminiscent of I-f's late-90s classic 'Space Invaders Are Smoking Grass', crackling robo-voiced commands, skittering synth chords which wash across the mix and so on. It's the work of someone completely at ease with their craft, comfortable enough to take risks without upsetting the apple cart of their sound's core appeal.

Blackploid's idiosyncratic approach to synth work is something which distinguishesCosmic Dramafrom the pack. Electro has long been a genre which prides itself on innovation on the keys, but few producers are willing to push their sonics as far as Blackploid does - take the seasick churn of pads and processors on 'Multiverse', for instance, or the way John Carpenter-esque single-note lines dovetail with gurgling synthetic pulses and eerie, spacious chords on 'The Lab', a highlight ofCosmic Drama's midsection.

Cosmic Dramaskips along at club tempo throughout - every one of these joints will get bodies moving in dark rooms across the galaxy. However, even when tracks maintain their single-minded pursuit of machine-funk perfection, they never forget to deliver on the hooks. Blackploid has lead lines (and counter-melodies) to burn here, and each track knots them together in ever-more intriguing ways as they plough onwards. Drexciyan heads will be thrilled by the sci-fi delights of 'Species', for instance, while Blackploid brings melodies as cold as they are catchy on the aptly-named 'Polar Dunes'. By the timeCosmic Dramahits upon the vroom-vrooming bassline line of closer 'Contact', you're fully enthralled to the album's combination of broken-beat heft and synthetic melodiousness.

Central Processing Unit mainstay Blackploid comes through with another delightful dozen of electro heaters for the Sheffield label.

RIYL:Drexciya, I-f, Cygnus, AFX

Reissue of in-demand Italo title, with accompanying edits by Hysteric. "For the much-requested 12'' reissue of Roaring Mosquitoes, Best Record followed the hint by a die-hard German researcher and esteemed DJ of 'hidden musical treasures' Frinda Di Lanco. Further enriching this reissue - masterfully remastered by Dom Scuteri - with two of his splendid edits is the Australian DJ-producer George Hysteric, one of the world's leading authorities and a leading figure in Italo Disco. The juxtaposition of the two songs performed with grit and physicality by Agostina Casalino and her cousin Antonietta Casalino (aka Roaring Mosquitoes) highlights two aesthetically and rhythmically similar approaches, albeit with different roots and inspirations. "You Aren't With Me" has the merit of not wanting to reinvent the genre, but exploits the familiarity of pop-dance forms, obtaining an immediate catchiness. The piece stands out for its linearity while reworking melodic mechanisms typical of the 80s new wave: short instrumental intro, well-defined verse-chorus, obsessive repetition of melodic hooks that make it an immediate and "dragging" song on the dance floor. The arrangement focuses on a solid electronic drum groove, sinuous basslines, clean guitar riffs, "cutting" keyboards and the use of the chorus typical of the Italo Disco of those years. Some passages recall the melodic line and rhythmic progression of "Tonight... Crazy Night", an intriguing song that the Canadian artist Dorine Hollier created in 1984 at the Titania Studios in Rome with Pierluigi Giombini. Even with "Ah Ah Ah Ah" which features a vibrant and cheerful sound there's a playful use of citation for some idea that Diego Pepe took from a Micky & Joyce track. It evokes the "space disco" spirit of Jean-Pierre Massiera and the influence of the French scene of 1979: polyphonic synthetic strings, echo effects on electronic hi-hats and a vaguely futuristic atmosphere, but with an even more captivating sound revitalized with more scratchy modern touches and compressed basslines. A mix of vintage and contemporary that enhance its charm."

Monde UFO follow the celebrated ‘7171’ album with a trip to the mysterious ‘Flamingo Tower’. In the shadows of the Los Angeles bustling music scene, the enigmatic collective led by visionary Ray Monde create a trance-like fusion of psychedelia and avant jazz, mantra-like evocations, brash moody ambience and passages reminiscent of long-lost library music.

Magnifying Monde UFO’s idea of musical chaos, their early sonic escapades into off-kilter exotica is now elevated with sweeping atmospheric waves of sound inspired by an eclectic brew of Arto Lindsey, Khan Jamal’s ‘Drum Dance To The Motherland’, Keith Hudson, Milford Graves, Marion Brown, Don Cherry and Lennie Tristano.

Cast deep into number theory with occasional quasi-religious touchstones, ‘Flamingo Tower’ bustles with background sounds overlaid with intimate melodies conjuring plenty of suitably strange illusions; a synthetic orchestra plays baroque pop, a guitar is set to auto destruct and Ray Monde’s hushed vocals carry a bracing narrative. It’s an evocative album, one for the heavy music nerds, sprinkled with ear candy and proliferated by mysterious numbers which litter the song titles.

“Monde UFO wander through a humid mist of exotic samba shuffles, shamanic whispers, and reverberating laser beam synthesizers.” New Commute

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

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

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

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

E-bony joins the INDUSTRIAS MEKANIKAS family to present DIGITAL DAWN, an album that defines his identity as an artist. Twelve tracks in which electro and techno intertwine to create a unique and personal sound. A sonic manifesto composed of twelve tracks that explore the darkest textures and the most hypnotic rhythms of underground electronic.

In this work, E-bony is not alone. The talent of Noamm is woven into four of the tracks, adding an additional layer of complexity and experimentation. The collaboration between both artists creates a unique synergy, elevating the DIGITAL DAWN proposal to a new level.

DIGITAL DAWN is released in 2×12″ format, a format that is still preferred by DJs and lovers of high-quality sound, guaranteeing a quality and sound pressure that will explode on the dance floor.

Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 is the first ever archival release from Repetition Repetition, the “two-man electric minimalist band” consisting of Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton hailing from Los Angeles in the mid 1980’s. Repetition Repetition’s unique blend of cosmic art-rock minimalism / maximalism was self-released across a series of cassettes produced in micro editions, and while garnering the attention and participation of luminaries such as Harold Budd, remained under the radar during the band’s existence. Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 collects select material from across the duo’s catalog.

It was over a plate of Mexican breakfast food when Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton first told Harold Budd of Repetition Repetition and the worlds they intended to explore by respective way of synthesizers and guitars --- a rendezvous instigated by the former’s fan mail to the legendary composer. If the upstarts entered this restaurant from a one-way street of admiration, they would leave with not only Budd’s interest but, sometime later, a blessing in the wake of many hours shared by the three in Garcia’s Los Angeles home recording studio: “This is going to be difficult, but God help them, I think they’re great,” noted Budd in a USC lecture in 1985. Now several degrees removed from prior rock music aspirations, the real game was afoot.

Between 1984 and 1988, Repetition Repetition operated within something akin to the underground of the experimental underground, although even that designation perhaps overstates the case. The duo’s sparse output consisted of three cassettes self-released on Garcia’s Third Stone Music label: Repetition Repetition (1985), Lakeland (1987), and The Machinist (1987). Their songs would also be included during this period on Trance Port Tapes’ vital scene-scanning compilations assembled by A Produce. Live performances occurred with similar infrequency, but Garcia and Caton counted converts in quality over quantity, numbering among them the aforementioned Budd, a Chambers Brother, and, judging by a memorably drop-jawed reaction following a rare Repetition Repetition gig, Jackson Browne.

Likewise, critical support materialized in the form of KCRW deejays Brent Wilcox and Dean Suzuki, whose steady airplay positioned Repetition Repetition’s music amidst fearless company like Jon Hassell, Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Richard Horowitz. Yet, to hear fellow Trance Port featured players like Tom Recchion and Bruce Licher of Savage Republic tell it, Garcia and Caton moved as ghosts --- a notion more vexingly endorsed by the silence of record companies that failed to come knocking --- and therein lies an overarching truth to the work itself.

Journey to the heart of Repetition Repetition and one discovers a collective ear impossibly attuned to the hypnotic possibilities of stylistic convergence, the resulting music possessed of seamless multimodalities which beckon to a glimmering plane of the disembodied. Where Caton sought his artistic fixes at an intersection of popular genres, Garcia zoned in on the sonically spare, drawing from the same wellspring as the Enos and Rileys of his personal avant-garde pantheon, and in their coming together the two tapped into a deeper cosmic source. Synthetic walls of keyboard sound in forever states of reprise met waves of shimmering --- and at times even punishing --- guitar in reply, their soundscapes hovering convincingly between, as suggested in fittingly dualistic fashion in a press kit assembled by Garcia, such disparate sensations as bird flight in one song and oil drilling in the next.

But don’t call it a push-pull dynamic, as this was a creative partnership founded upon fluidity and organicism by way of, naturally, repetition. In contrast to, say, the Bressonian ideal of repetitive motion as a great stripping away, the concept in the hands of Garcia and Caton equated to ascendancy via continuous unfolding, a maximal route to minimalism. To be sure, their recording philosophy morphed over the course of the act’s short history, and what started as a process defined by consistent in-person interplay developed into a more isolated method formulated by Garcia, who eventually took to his own one-man bedroom-studio sessions in order to fully chart any and all potential ostinato-loaded paths which he could travel down, the Tascam-captured resonances subsequently provided to Caton as blueprints from which to take flight himself, adding layer upon layer of steel to the proceedings.

If the practice and execution changed, however, the evidence certainly didn’t rest in the results: The seamlessness remained, and, despite the brevity of their time together, so has Repetition Repetition. With this finely calibrated collection of songs in Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987, Freedom To Spend sees to it that the private worlds of Garcia and Caton can now be visited by all rather than just the count-‘em-on-both-hands lucky few whose musical endeavors or collector vocations carried them into this once-distant dimension.

Repetition Repetition’s Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 will be released on Freedom To Spend in vinyl and digital editions on May 30, 2025. The collection includes extensive liner notes from Bill Perrine, and wil be offered alongside Over & Over, a supplemental collection of music available exclusively as a mail order cassette from Freedom To Spend and RVNG Intl.

2023, past and future merge into one. Stripped of temporal markers, today's artists unabashedly draw from the past while boldly gazing into the future. Amid revivals and

innovations, trends and undercurrents, the game is intricate, the nuances abundant. Orphia's music is no exception. Behind the synthesizers, the Genevan weaves a musical tapestry on a tightrope. Cold wave, synth-pop, post-punk, eurodance, Indochine, Depeche Mode, Boards of Canada, Eurythmics... it all blends in a grand synthetic ritual where the festivities happily don't stop at the first light of dawn. Charging forward, swiftly, strongly, into an uncertain future, no questions asked but with a quick glance in the rearview mirror, just to be sure.

"L'Aventure des Gens Modernes" resides in this retro-futuristic melancholy, between nostalgia and a thirst for tomorrow. Without ever falling into foolish nostalgia or soulless revival, the EP reflects an absolute urgency. Urgency to produce, first and foremost, as studio work has become a true raison d'être for Orphia. Urgency to also shout out a certain rage against a world devoid of hope, and this on stage where the artist performs alone, synths in hand and sharp beats for the dancefloor. In an era where the past enables facing the future, the 5 tracks of "L'Aventure des Gens Modernes" breathe a breath of fresh air into a scene in ruins. Cyberpunk or punk in general, Orphia wants to go fast and take everything in its path.

The annual Bonkers Music compilation returns, delivering another round of high-energy bangers. This year, the release explores a slightly evolved musical style while staying true to its signature sound. Celebrating its sixth edition, “Year VI” will be available on 12” vinyl, accompanied by a few exciting surprises.

A1. Neskeh’s “106 Cabrel” revolves around a melodic yet hypnotically repetitive lead sequence, crafted to evoke a trance-like state on the dance floor and radiate positive energy. The foundation of big, punchy kicks and a robust bassline gives it a quintessential club vibe.

A percussive break in the middle shifts the mood entirely, paying homage to Goa rhythms and shamanic rituals, immersing listeners in a more primal atmosphere. The drop reignites the momentum, enhanced by the warm tones of the beloved Minilogue, adding an almost epic dimension to the journey.

A2. Berlin’s Mike Sacchetti and Madrid’s David Meyer unite on “Agria Pachanga,” a dance energy piece that pulses with percussive drive and a subtle touch of Latin identity.

Acid-inspired arrangements swirl around classic drum machine sounds. The syncopated rhythms and pumping basslines push the track towards an agitated club atmosphere, building this song into a bold declaration of fiesta.

A3. Two friends from Guadalajara, Mexico, Leonor & Ludviq, now living in different European cities, (Barcelona & Lyon) join forces to bring you Capybara Trance, This electrifying track combines dark, driving energy with intricately sequenced melodies, a hard-hitting chugging bassline, and the unique touch of capybara-inspired sounds. Anchored by a commanding kick drum that sets an unrelenting tempo.

B1. “Nebula” is a deep, atmospheric journey through cosmic sounds and pulsating rhythms. The track blends hypnotic melodies with dark synthetic textures, evoking a sense of drifting through endless galaxies. With a strong groove and intricate arrangements, it delivers energy that fits perfectly in both morning sets and more conceptual playlists. The collaboration between Radial Gaze, Ducati Flux, and Persona RS captures the spirit of exploration, creating a versatile track that can be the highlight of any set

B2. Intruso hailing from Bogota, now based in Barcelona brings “Somos Acido” this track draws inspiration from the early 2000’s House and Trance, capturing the nostalgia and emotional resonance of his first experiences with electronic music as a child. A driving Acid bassline injects dynamic energy, making it perfectly suited for the dance floor.

B3. Argentinian born, Australia based producer Poulper teams up with Mexican maestro Hugo Vallejo to kick off this intergalactic adventure. This track weaves together acid-laced elements and an infectious rhythm, layered with haunting post-dark vocals that narrate the fiery, cosmic tale of love burning in the vast expanse of space. A bold and immersive journey into the unknown, perfect for this stellar compilation.

Sharpening his modernist, hybridised club sound with the restless energy he’s made his name on, Breaka returns with Aeoui. Nodding to the vowel-only vocal samples he scatters throughout his tracks, this much-anticipated second album reaffirms Charlie Baker’s reputation as a many-sided bass music innovator.

Since 2019, Breaka has been primarily shaping his own destiny by self-releasing most of his music, and it’s afforded him the space to evolve his sound on his own terms. In the wake of his 2022 debut LP We Move, the consistently prolific producer had been looking for a fitting window to channel his work into a second full-length. The opportunity arose when he struck on a fit of jet-lagged inspiration in late 2023 and laid down two of the new album’s key tunes, ‘squashy track’ and ‘yolo bass rewind’. Jutting out at a distinct angle from his other work, Breaka knew he’d found the anchor point around which to build out the next phase of his sonic evolution.

This productive period also aligned with a new studio space to work in, leading to the album’s striking double-dose opening of ‘Aeoui’ and ‘Are We There’. With the flavour of his new album established, Breaka was able to comb back through his reams of existing ideas and find the remaining pieces that fit the emerging puzzle. There are enduring influences which bind together the Breaka sound — footwork, techno and dancehall continue to guide the infectious floor-ready pressure of the record, but he worked free of stylistic concerns to find a vibe that remained true to his independent spirit.

It’s clear the Breaka DNA reaches beyond purist club music — his roots as a jazz drummer from an early age guide the expressive flair in his beat programming, while he took a more direct influence from a mind-blowing Sons Of Kemet gig in 2022 to make psychedelic centre-piece ‘Roundhouse’. Elsewhere ‘Cascara’ pays tribute to the Afro-Cuban rhythm of the same name, which he fused with amapiano’s lithe log drums and shakers, Brazilian percussion and edgy sound design to create a maverick soundsystem wrecker.

The collision of organic and synthetic, crisp forms and chaotic energy are captured perfectly in the cover artwork created with Jordan Core. It’s a savvy sum-up of where Breaka is at right now, continually building out with clear intentions while embracing the unpredictable energy of lived experiences and the ideas that get sparked along the way. That’s why Aeoui sounds like no one else out there but Breaka.

Teatro Del Metapresente is the debut album by La Nuit Je Mens, a duo hailing from the Parisian suburbs and southern Italy. Now based in Rome, the two artists have crafted a striking sound that merges their DIY ethos with raw, unfiltered energy.

Driven by synthetic, minimalist rhythms created on a fleet of analog machines, the seven tracks pay homage to the sound of the '80s – yet entirely forward-looking and embracing the dancefloor modernity.

Blending genres such as EBM, synth-pop and minimal-cold-wave, paired with French vocals, the album delves into themes of underground activities, the slow decay of the club scene and the depths of emotional yearning.

Released on the Berlin-Basel-based label Reach Another System, Teatro Del Metapresente follows the previously released 7” and reinforces the duo's own sound and unique identity.

For the first release of AKIHI DRIVE on Bright Sounds, wepresent an immersive journey through complex soundscapesthat seamlessly blend intricate rhythms and abstract melodies.This debut is a bold exploration of experimental electronictextures, evoking deep atmospheres that challenge conventionallistening.

Expect a fresh yet familiar sound with roots in the most iconicmovements of IDM, where organic beats meet synthetic beauty,inviting listeners into a space of introspective discovery andsonic experimentation. Perfect for those seeking music thattranscends traditional genres, AKIHI DRIVE's release is set toresonate with both seasoned electronic enthusiasts and curiousnewcomers alike.

The Invisible Road: Original Recordings, 1985–1990 compiles an unheard, previously unreleased body of recordings by Sussan Deyhim and Richard Horowitz, dissidents from diametric backgrounds who met during the heady days of Downtown New York in the 1980s. This collection reveals the creative and life partners’ radical shared vision of avant-garde pop in all of its boundary pushing freedom, combining Deyhim’s singular approach to vocalization, Horowitz’s invention of new musical languages, and touchstones of traditional music from around the world, creating a new music that ultimately retains a voice entirely its own. Despite their difference in backgrounds and respective journeys, at the time of their meeting in the early 1980s in New York City, Sussan Deyhim and Richard Horowitz were both products of the search for freedom and understanding (and resultant awakenings) that swept the globe and helped culturally define the late 1960s and 70s. Deyhim, born and raised in Tehran, spent her teens dancing with Iran’s Pars National Ballet company, performing weekly on Iranian national television, and travelling her home country studying with master folk musicians and dancers, before relocating to Belgium and joining Maurice Béjart’s prestigious Béjart Ballet of the 20th Century. Horowitz, born and raised in Buffalo, New York, had spent much of the decade before abroad, first departing for Paris under the shadows of the Vietnam War, where he studied piano, Eastern philosophy, and became entrenched the city’s free jazz scene, playing with the likes of Steve Lacy, Anthony Braxton, and Alan Silva, before embarking south to Morocco where his friendship with Paul Bowles helped cultivate a deep passion for the country’s musical traditions and a shift in his musical practice.



The pair met by chance sometime in 1981 at Noise New York, a small studio on West 34th Street founded by the musician and recording engineer, Frank Eaton, as a utopian creative laboratory that beckoned artists and bands like Arthur Russell, Christian Marclay, Liquid Liquid and Butthole Surfers into its orbit. Both artists had recently relocated to the city, Horowitz having recently released his debut album, Oblique Sequences (Solo Nai Improvisations), on the legendary Paris based imprint Shandar, and fallen in with members of New York avant-garde like La Monte Young, Jon Hassell, David Byrne, and Brian Eno, and Deyhim having begun to more actively incorporate singing into her practice, notably recording a vocal score for choreography she was doing at La MaMa Experimental Theatre.



Initially bonding over a cassette tape of field recordings made by Paul Bowles that had been given to mutual friend and writer Brian Cullman (seeking answers for Ornette Coleman’s question “what is the sound of sound”), their earliest collaboration was documented on Horowitz’s 1981 album, Eros In Arabia, with Deyhim contributing vocals to the track “Queen Of Saba.” Over the coming years, their deep connection would routinely gravitate them into the studio, culminating in the body of recordings that would appear on their 1986 album for Crammed Discs, Desert Equations: Azax Attra. Unknown to nearly all but the artists, laying in wait over the decades on numerous multi-track and stereo reels, DAT tapes, and reference cassettes, were a vast array of recordings made by Deyhim and Horowitz bookending Desert Equations. The 13 pieces represented on The Invisible Road: Original Recordings, 1985–1990 were recorded largely between Noise New York and Daylight Studio in Brussels, during a period that Deyhim describes the partnership between herself and Horowitz’s as seeking a music “free of any specific cultural reference, with a personal musical signature,” blossoming into a body of sonority that embraced the energy of contemporary boundary pushing pop and the avant garde, filtered through their mutual love and study of various musical traditions from across the globe and deep engagement with the ideas and tactics of experimental music.



Undeniably rooted in Horowitz’s study of the North Africa ney and the music of the Berber and Gnawa cultures during his time in Morocco, Deyhim’s deep engagement with the folk traditions of Iran, and the couple’s immersion in the interconnected Downtown underground music scenes, each piece on The Invisible Road offers its own vision creative and cultural hybridity. Deyhim sings in both English and Farsi, as well as a composite tongue that she developed by drawing upon numerous indigenous vocal techniques from around the world, intuitively responding to Horowitz’s simultaneous sound syntax forming and combining a wide range synthetic and acoustic instrumentation, and experimental tape techniques, within a visionary series of free-standing expressions.

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" Via Negativa (in the doorway light). Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo's enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering - these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age. The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band's fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music's polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals." From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don't see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" Via Negativa (in the doorway light). Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo's enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering - these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age. The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band's fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music's polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals." From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don't see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" 'Via Negativa (in the doorway light)'. Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo’s enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering – these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age.

The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band’s fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music’s polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals."

From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don’t see directly."

The eighth and latest slate of refined retro-futuristic synth-pop by Liz Wendelbo and Sean McBride aka Xeno & Oaklander is named after and inspired by "the study of what not to do, a negative image of a positive, the other side, the other:" 'Via Negativa (in the doorway light)'. Recorded in the fall of 2023 at their modernist Connecticut home fashioned into a two-story synthesizer laboratory and mixing studio, the album is uniquely visionary in spirit yet precision in execution, a contrast central to the duo’s enduring chemistry. Embryonic piano sketches were translated to nuanced modular systems, which McBride weighted with "harmonic padding," tuned percussion, and a spectral transfer device capable of "rendering spasms of rhythmic overtonal filigree." Despite the technological complexity of their craft, emotively the songs require no deciphering – these are technicolor widescreen anthems of the cybernetic age.

The eponymous opening track sets the pace, soaring sleekly over glittering synths and call-and-response vocals about arias, shattered light, and faces in stereo. From there the record expands and contracts, cycling through a gallery of moods and masks, animated by the band’s fascination with drama, "the idea of personae," and theatrical characters. Track by track, a murky, tragic backstory reveals itself: forlorn figures navigating a treacherous mercury mine, alternately poisoned by fumes or buried in collapsing caverns. The tension between Teutonic, utopian synthetic pop and lyrical narratives of ghosts in silos, ruined mills, and the traumas of mineral excavation creates a compelling friction, alternately futurist and obsolete, elevated and subterranean. Wendelbo describes the music’s polarities perfectly: "The heavy machinic din of extraction in contrast with the enchantment of the mined precious gems and metals."

From bilingual odes to bloodstones ("O Vermillion") to cosmic chrome dance floor classics ("Lost & There" "The present tense can never feel real / So many pasts conspire in the burning sun") to strutting EBM sensualities ("Actor's Foil"), Xeno & Oaklander re-prove themselves masters of the axis of technology and poetry, snaking cables and synesthesia, mining melodies and myths across 15 years of focused artistry. Theirs is a muse still gilded and gleaming, burnished red and silver, attuned to "the unobservable, the unfamiliar, that which you don’t see directly."

Water ripples all around, and echoing sounds stretch out into a shady sub aquatic habitat. Its dark corners slowly burst into view as cresting noises reveal fresh caverns teeming with liquid life. This is Sueños acuáticos, the latest sonic exploration from Lamina, a musical project by French artist, Clarice Calvo-Pinsolle. Built from years of carefully gathered field recordings, the album constructs immersive, detailed soundscapes where watery environments, caves, and forests intertwine with digital manipulations.

Rooted in the myth of the ‘Lamina’, a creature from Basque folklore, the project blends this oral tradition with technology to build a geological myth. The Lamina’s world—a nocturnal ecosystem of water and stone—serves as the foundation for the album’s sound design. Lamina reshapes these natural recordings into something new: stretching, pitching, and layering them to build intricate sound environments that feel simultaneously organic and synthetic. “I transform these sounds much like I would sculpt in ceramics,” explains Calvo-Pinsolle, “by adding, removing material, and imagining landscapes.

Drawing from hydrofeminist and posthuman ideas, particularly those in Astrida Neimanis’ Bodies of Water, the album treats sound like water—shifting, flowing, connecting, and buoying life. Tracks flow into one another without clear boundaries, much like the natural currents they represent. The result is a continuous listening experience, inviting deep focus on texture above melody.

Lamina is exploring the potential of the field recording as a compositional tool. Natural sounds, like trickling water or wind through trees, are processed out of recognition—or cliché. A sense of weightless immersion takes hold as Lamins’a music unfolds, and listeners float freely and choose their own adventure in the Lamina’s home. Less a set of songs than its own evolving environment, Sueños acuáticos (‘Aquatic Dreams’ in English) is a meticulously constructed work in which we can freely float.

Slow paced drums with offbeats softly phased with the guitar, misty takeoffs from the synthesizer: a hazy idyll is starting off on the road to the rocket festival (bun bang fai). Answering each other on the responsive mode of the lam soeng, Sothipong engages in a flirt but Oulay Vanh is not ready to trifle with just anybody.

As a stylistic variation of a popular Lao musical genre, the lam soeng was the source of several themes among which the “bang fai” - which is part of the Lao conciliatory festivities preceding the rainy season - remains one of the most renowned.

However, the producer and composer of these songs, Sothy, created an unusual arrangement: the instrumental introduction separates from the sang canon, the synthetic mix is stripped down of the traditional organology - everything here becomes unsettling for a listener familiar with the genre.

Everything comes with a reason: the record was edited in 1981 under the title Sothy Productions yet produced in France by the Parisian label Oxygène (famously known for its unforgettable first French punk compilation 125 grammes de 33 1/3 tours). Chansons Laotiennes still remains hard to classify.

And then who’s Sothy? Along with the unverifiable identity of the seemingly Laotian singers, skepticism gains ground concerning the man behind the pseudonym. Is he an escaped musician from one of the first Cambodian rock bands of the 1960s? A surviving producer from the 1980s Paris? Or a composer in transit in one of the many places of the Laotian diaspora? Sothy eludes any researches and disappears behind his numerous homonyms.

The second track is just as enigmatic: a beat box, a lightly reverberated voice as well as a guitar solo and a small synthesizer break, “Tuei” or “Tawai” offering (as the writing on the record suggests) makes way to dancing step and a truly joyful melody. Twisted and lively steps on a romantic background tune turn this second track into a genuine paslop - a program recommended by therapists to relieve muscular pains due to seated positions: you will unlock your pelvis with some synchronized Laotian choreographies.

For their first edits, Akuphone called on a young Parisian producer. Shelter, aka Alan Briand, mingles his own mixes and electro productions with a large variety of influences and styles: krautrock, disco, traditional music, psychedelic, synth pop, ambient, bossa nova, Japanese funk. He produces both original compositions and remix.

Going solo while still keeping intact his devotion to RS Produções, Nuno appears as a true heartbreaker. Silky, space soul, why not even risk the patented future r&b? But this music exists and manifests itself apart from the established production centres, the golden arches of hype edifices and synthetic promotion regurgitated by a thousand cloned fingers. "Sai Do Coração" is a very brave, romantic improbability, shying away from DJ bravado and dancefloor top speed. Through these grooves comes a pure distillation of love, an alchemical sublimatio resulting in the much sought-after "higher substance", a bright globe issuing rays of affection all around.

With love we most likely also buy into a degree of suffering, and though this is not at all the ID of the album, Nuno explicitly connects the two sentiments in "N'Dengue", a cathartic cold cut one grows to cherish intensely by the time it is over. It's a key moment, grief pours out, liberation achieved in the dance - "I will love, I will suffer, I will shout, I will dance". Flip to the other side for "Confusão No Ghetto", another gritty expression, a richly percussive, slow tempo observation of things gone wrong. All the rest in the album feels simple, direct and yet sophisticated like photosynthesis. Like the soil, through which geological becomes biological. Nuno whips up a variety of textures and flavours into the invisible form of Music, romantic fiction into action.

DJ Support: Gilles Peterson, Sean Johnston, Jaye Ward, Max Essa and Francois K

Limited to 300 copies

Having been long-time admirers of one another from afar, Hell Yeah and Michele Mininni finally come together for Pop Archetypes. It is a multifaceted debut album that collides broken beats, worldly rhythms, jazz, eastern melodies, live drums and much more into one thrilling 15-track opus that arrives on May 31st.

Italian artist Mininni has always had a leftfield take on electronic music and imbued it with rhythms, melodies and instruments from around the globe. He has released it on cult labels like R&S, Optimo Trax, Internasjonal and Curle Recordings but has saved his magnificent debut album for Hell Yeah. It is much more than a collection of sounds he has already explored and instead finds him heading off into all new territory without losing his signature sense of inventive and beguiling rhythm and melody. It is a multicultural journey that takes in heterogeneous styles and diverse influences but distills them all into one cohesive album with its own unique storyline.

Says Mininni of the record, 'I wanted each track to be like pieces of a unique, multifaceted picture, like walking through train cars or progressing through the levels of a video game, all filtered through my own vision and concentrated into 36 minutes. I wanted a pop album rooted in the extraordinary richness of popular music and projected into the future, a continuum where pieces communicate with each other and are received by the ears in symbiotic balance.'

Despite that concept, the album is a spontaneous listen full of surprises, left turns and original ideas that all hold together in thrilling fashion. It kicks off with the tumbling jazz drums and swirling synths of 'Spinning Around Cotton Candy', takes in mellifluous melodic layers and broken beats on 'Golden Room' and 'Slipped Air' casts you adrift amongst gorgeous piano keys and refracted vocals on the suspensory 'Vertigo'. There are jungle interludes with Eastern string melodies like 'Bangkok Tempo', lavish fusions of organic and synthetic sounds on 'Kundalini' and more charming Far Eastern rhythms on 'Muting Cat'. 'Congoflash' brings electrifying cosmic rays to busy hand drum patterns, 'The Magic Of Synesthesia' combines dark amen breaks and bright and uplifting flutes while 'Carousel Of Tears' douses you in watery melodies and celestial pads that awaken the soul.

Pop Archetypes is an adventurous work packed with meticulous and infinite details but all with an overarching narrative that makes it far more than the sum of its parts.

Jonas Landwehr & Felix Fleer, the minds behind R-Imprint, are back with their youngest brainchild ‘Serial Sound’. They are starting the new label off with an expertly crafted five track EP ranging from emotive 4 to the floor anthems, over ideosyncratically spaced out IDM experimentation, to cutting edge UK-infused club weapons. ‘Secrets’ is opening the A-Side with a raw vocal performance by LAINE, fused with an infectious groove, building up to a euphoric climax of layered poly-synths, sample flipping and abstract textures. ‘Blinded’ is carrying this vibe over into a more toolish format while maintaining an intricate narrative arch. ’Water Seven’ rounds off the A-Side with a more dreamy excursion into ambient territory. ‘Windows’ opens the B-Side with a catchy theme of pulsing modulated chords supported by subtle, micro- percussive textures. Aeon is closing off the record with an aggressive, synthetic rhythm, featuring syncopated vocal slices, contrasted with enthralling pad sounds. With this release the duo has opened up their sound into a more mature & eclectic direction, while staying true to their signature brand of contemplative harmonies and detailed textural layering.

The latest in a prolific string of solo and collaborative releases by James Rushford, Turzets collects a pair of new works primarily created and recorded last year while the Australian composer-performer was in residence at La Becque, an art center on Lake Geneva in Switzerland. The side-length piece "Fallaway Whisk" explores hesitation in its many forms_reticence of speech, sonic restraint_using live, abstracted translations of text from English to German against a lush and swelling soundscape. On the flip side, "Quire" is a work in ten movements influenced by the composer's study of late medieval repertoire on portative organ, weaving the instrument's woodsy interlocking melodies with angelic Yamaha CS-80 synth sweeps and stuttering glitches. The combined effort is somewhat a departure for Rushford, working in traces of Klaus Schulze, concrete poetry, and ars subtilior into a precise and ever-unfolding tapestry. Rushford's work draws from a wide range of collagist and improvisatory musical languages, staking out an idiosyncratic stylistic space that has been variously described as "electro-acoustic experimentation with a beating heart" (Boomkat) and "haunted Jacobean ASMR" (The Wire). Investigating the creases, cracks, and folds in traditions ranging from early music to New Age, Rushford's work subtly exaggerates seemingly liminal aspects such as atmosphere and the bodily presence of the performer until these take on a weight equal to musical elements such as pitch, rhythm, and timbre. In recent years, Rushford's solo work has been guided by his theorization of sonic images, particularly the shadow, which has inspired pieces as diverse as an hour-long companion to Federico Mompou's 1959-67 piano cycle Música Callada (2016) and a sumptuous translation of the play of light across flat surfaces into synthetic sound (The Lake from the Louvers, Shelter Press, 2021). His long-standing performance practice for piano, portative organ, synthesizers, and electroacoustic devices, is constantly infused with a delicacy of touch and a harmonic sensibility in which unorthodox tunings coexist with influences from fin de siècle Impressionism, the twentieth century avant-garde, and popular musical structures. He has worked with a vast range artists including Klaus Lang, Annea Lockwood, David Behrman, Tashi Wada, Haroon Mirza, Dennis Cooper, Ora Clementi, crys cole, Oren Ambarchi, Kassel Jaeger, Will Guthrie, and Graham Lambkin. He has performed as Golden Fur (with Sam Dunscombe and Judith Hamann) and Food Court (with Joe Talia and Francis Plagne).