Buscar:tape loops

If there's one specific component that grounds 'Sky Flesh', it's focus. Italian musician and sound designer Marta De Pascalis flexed her technical muscle on 2020's 'Sonus Ruinae', layering various sounds and processes in an attempt to touch the sublime. In contrast, 'Sky Flesh' is a single thought, composed using just one instrument: the Yamaha CS-60. A slimmed-down sibling to the gargantuan CS-80 - the analog synthesizer used by Vangelis to create his iconic 'Blade Runner' score - the CS-60 was released in 1977, a few years before the MIDI protocol was introduced to help standardize production methods. MIDI would change the electronic music landscape completely, offering a level of control that De Pascalis consciously relinquishes, preferring to highlight expressiveness and timbre, elements more readily associated with acoustic instruments. The album arrives as much of the wider experimental scene busies itself with algorithmic composition and AI-assisted modeling; De Pascalis chooses to work instead like an organologist, harnessing the CS-60's mercurial magic to suggest deeper truths about our evolving relationship with machines.

Currently based in Berlin, De Pascalis grew up in Rome, where she was surrounded by atrophied ruins that piqued her interest in decay and memory. Over her last three albums, she used tape loops and advanced synthesizer techniques to create a unique sound world that's guided by her musical philosophy, rather than a specific aesthetic. As she's developed her technique and confidence, her music has become even more idiosyncratic, and at this stage in her career she's stripped her sound down to its core elements, focusing on emotion, narrative and mystery. Using timbres that recall a time when electronic music still waved towards the future

'Of No Fixed Abode' gathers fragmented recordings by the Madrid duo of Pablo Mirón and Juan Vacas, the multi-disciplinary artists behind the collective Real No Real (realnoreal.org) and Ediciones Fontenebro label. Working with field recordings, found materials, instruments such as Violin and Harmonica and by manipulating old radios, turntables and reel to reels the pair have been performing across the world of late taking their collage style process with them. 'Of No Fixed Abode' uses cross-continental sound diaries from the 2019-2022 period and has been central to shows at venues and festivals around Europe and South America.

Contributing to the wider field of post-fluxus 'broken music', the duality of natural sound and decaying, processed tape loops along with gentle instrumentation across the record follows in the footsteps of the Dieter Roth school, Anne Gillis, Leyland Kirby or Henry Krutzen yet is anchored in a charming restraint in which each element seems to fall into place perfectly. Miradasvacas have a long history with presenting experimental music through shows on Madrid's Radio Relativa, concerts and gatherings across the city and self-published mixtapes and sound art, though debut here on 12th Isle with their first proper album. Far-flung gallery sonics at their finest.

Tape

Atollo« is the debut solo album of the Italian percussionist and composer Daniele Di Gregorio, a virtuoso of the marimba and the vibraphone who has worked with a large number of artists, including Donato Dozzy, Giorgio Gaslini, Tony Scott, Randy Becker, Luis Agudo, as well as Mina, Andrea Bocelli, Fabio Concato, Malika Ayane, and many others. He also has a long-standing collaboration with poet and composer Paolo Conte.

His latest work »Atollo« is divided into three very different sound paths. The first and most extended section is entirely played with the marimba, an instrument that is still fairly new and in full evolution. Some pieces have been performed using special gloves and see the over-layering of two marimbas, in order to build polyrhythmic designs and hypnotic sequences. Other marimba pieces have been performed in “solo” versions using soft, medium and hard mallets.

Secondly we encounter the trumpets of the Vienna Symphonic Library, which pieces after dissecting sound by sound build up the compositions with overlapping rhythmic and melodic loops. »Atollo« the piece that gives the title to this album is the closing track and is created with the Petrof Grand Piano, an evocative and hypnotic piece intended to describe the sound of the sea and the movement of its waves.

All the compositions are deliberately descriptive of the title they take, and are a sonic journey into the composer's past and present.

Composed and performed by Daniele Di Gregorio
Produced and mixed by Niccolò Di Gregorio
Mastered by Luca Sammartin
Original artwork and layout by Marco Ciceri

Run-D.M.C.'s Raising Hell remains the turning point at which hip-hop crashed through mainstream barriers and never left. Anchored by the crossover smash "Walk This Way," the 1986 blockbuster still sounds like a revolution unfolding in real time. It has everything – hard-rock riffs, turntable scratching, itchy rhythms, hit singles – not the least of which are the trio's invigorating raps and inseparable chemistry. And now it's the first rap record afforded audiophile treatment, courtesy of Mobile Fidelity.

Sourced from the original master tapes and pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, the reissue label's numbered-edition 180g 33RPM SuperVinyl LP elevates Raising Hell to sonic heights on par with its musical and cultural significance. Ranked the 123rd Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, 43rd on Pitchfork's Greatest Albums of the 1980s, one of the Top 100 Albums of All Time by TIME – and included on "Best of" lists by Spin, Paste, XXL, Entertainment Weekly, and basically every other significant media outlet – the triple-platinum effort rocks the house.

Benefitting from the ultra-low noise floor and groove definition of SuperVinyl, Raising Hell unleashes a torrent of massive dynamics and tsunami of frequency-plumbing details underlined by Rick Rubin's taut, crisp, albeit raw and streetwise production. Just as the Queens-based group both defined what hip-hop could represent – and displayed just how big it could get – Rubin's work melded ear-worm hooks, savvy drum loops, metal-leaning guitars, and, of course, Run and D.M.C.'s cross-fire lyrical interplay into watertight frameworks bursting with ideas, tones, samples, and beats. Heard anew on Mobile Fidelity vinyl, Raising Hell is in every regard the aural equivalent of a direct-to-console 1970s classic. And it sounds as fresh as hell.

As for the music, it ranks among the most influential, inventive, and invigorating ever released – rap or otherwise. Vanguard artists such as Ice-T, Eminem, Jay-Z, and Public Enemy's Chuck D – who declared it his all-time favorite and "the first record that made me realize this was an album-oriented genre" – have testified on behalf of its brilliance. And never mind the presence of the Top 5 single "Walk This Way," whose power helped make Aerosmith's Steven Tyler and Joe Perry relevant for the first time in nearly a decade – and literally put Run-D.M.C. in bedrooms ranging from the Bronx to Bartlett to Bad Axe.

Look instead to the rest of the entirely filler-free set, be it the corkscrew turns, slippery wordplay, and "My Sharona"-meets-"Mickey" mixology of the boisterous "It's Tricky," the fat-but-minimized bass grooves and warped turntable wobble of the hysterical "You Be Illin'," chimes-accented inertia and boombox-on- shoulder thunder of the now-iconic "Peter Piper," or voice-as-percussion attack of the funky "Is It Live." With Raising Hell, the answer to the question is always affirmative – a sensation bolstered by the fact the group always had something to say.

The definition of Golden Age Hip-Hop in every way, Run-D.M.C. avoids the negativity and misogyny that later plagued the style, spinning assertive tales about identity (the biographical and culture-changing "My Adidas"), work ethics ("Perfection"), and, most notably, pride (the Harriet Tubman- and Malcom X.-referencing "Proud to Be Black"). Pavement-packed inner cities, tree-lined suburbs, and cornfield-rimmed rural areas would never again be the same. And rocking a rhyme that's right on time would become trickier than ever.

Since the 1970s Mario De Leo works as a musician and visual artist. His mechanical paintings are hybrid works that reveal the cosmic spiritualism hidden in the meanders of electronics. With Riccardo Sinigaglia (Futuro Antico, Correnti Magnetiche, Doubling Riders) De Leo consolidates an artistic and human partnership with Lettera Cosmica, a work unpublished to date, produced and recorded in 1981. In a wacky electronic vision of the succession of time, the tracks trace the four seasons in a fine process of analog loops, prepared tapes of strings and piano, time and pitch shifts, filtering with Synthi Ems and Teac 3340 4-track recorder. On this seemingly cold palette, De Leo deploys his own personal Mediterranean fingerpicking, with vocal timbres peculiar to the music of the South of Italy, but no longer circumscribed to the origins of his Pugliese regionalism, as much as to an expressive range seasoned also with irony and avant-garde.The sound writing harmonizes with the evocative cover, in which emerges a warmest human note of "technological peasant”.

Two visionary maestros, Pierre Bastien and Michel Banabila, unite in their first collaborative album, Baba Soirée. The veterans of electronic music bring their unique expertise to the table, resulting in a captivating fusion of experimental styles. Bastien’s mechanical loops and experimental instrumental setups merge seamlessly with Banabila's sound design and impeccable skills of sampling collages. It's not a dance party, nor is it an avant-garde intervention. It's a soirée: a cultivated evening of sonic alchemy hosted by these two charismatic gentlemen.

Pierre Bastien is a composer and multi-instrumentalist with a background in French literature. He has spent decades crafting an idiosyncratic world of experimental sound with his self-built mechanical orchestra Mecanium. It was most notably showcased in audiovisual releases on Aphex Twin's Rephlex label. Bastien's creations are a mesmerizing combination of traditional instruments (he has a vast collection) and mechanical automatons. The violin in the track Rotomotor, for example, is physically played by one of his machines. In Baba Soirée, Bastien also plays a prepared cornet (Slow Dance, Banbas Aura), infusing the recordings with a breathy, dreamy dimension.

Michel Banabila, a sound artist, composer and producer, possesses an eclectic musical repertoire that defies genres. His seamless blend of minimal electronica, tribal ambient, and neo- classical influences has earned him a prominent place in the world of experimental music, and an impressive discography (Knekelhuis, Bureau B, Séance Center, a.o.). Banabila serves as the creative sampling editor for Baba Soirée, expertly weaving together the recordings to craft an evocative sonic tapestry.

The two share a curiosity for traditional instruments from various cultures. The instruments used in the recordings are shown in the cover artwork. A mutual admiration for each other's work paved the way for this fruitful artistic partnership of the Rotterdam-based artists: Collaborating on a single as a fundraiser for Yemen in 2022 set the stage for the creation of Baba Soirée.

For Pierre Bastien, Dada, Fluxus and International Situationism have played a significant role in shaping his artistic vision. The title Baba Soirée is an homage to Kurt Schwitters and Theo van Doesburg's "Kleine Dada Soirée" collaboration which took place exactly a century ago. There's an unmistakable stoicism and an anarchic not-giving-a-f*** attitude in these recordings by Bastien & Banabila, which resonates in the light of this Dada reference.

The central theme of Steady is perseverance. Each track is based on a personal story or a fleeting encounter with people these past few years, from close friends to total strangers, either at home or on night shift commutes. People navigating their own hardships, almost giving up but always struggling through. More broadly, it’s about multiplicity, and contradiction. These central figures displaying hope and determination within a city of development and neglect, uniformity and chaos - an unfiltered representation of a city with all its jagged edges, darkness, and shards of light. It's broken and disheveled, but never not beautiful, just like the people in it. Musically, Steady continues where Bleach (debut album) left off - a sonic language of glitch, decaying tape and analogue distortion through which hints of RnB and soulful ballads bleed through. With a greater emphasis on beats, albeit lopsided on pitch-shifted tape loops, Steady feels more self-assured, more confident, more recognisable. At the same time, it's never stable or predictable - choruses break down early, harmonies bend into beating microtones, tracks emerge before others have finished. The symphonic scope of Bleach is still retained in Steady though. This is music of motivic development, of micro and macro form, of meticulous refining. The work of two classically trained composers, the album's chaos is heavily considered and carefully shaped. Hours of improvisation sessions have since been painstakingly refined into ten distilled tracks, owing to Steady's three year gestation.

David Eugene Edwards has always been larger than life. His music with innovative heavy droning folk band Wovenhand, and before that the haunting revivification of high lonesome sound antique Americana of 16 Horsepower breathed a near apocalyptic sense of urgency and power into musical archetypes long abandoned in the latter-20th Century. On his first-ever solo album under his own name, Hyacinth, David Eugene Edwards delivers a sound uniquely his own, with a vulnerability and introspection unheard from him before. Stripping back the heavy rock of his recent work with Wovenhand, Hyacinth puts the man's voice, and sparing instrumentation into the main focus. There's a somber beauty and world-weary tone throughout these songs. The album could've been considered a slight return to the more melodic sounds of 16 Horsepower's Secret South (2000) and the first, self-titled Wovenhand album (2002). But there's more going on here: a rhythmic, pulsating undercurrent reminiscent of the tape loops and rudimentary rhythms of 80s Industrial post-punk as well as 808 Drill Style beats. The overall effect is often as if we're hearing the clock ticking away our own mortality. "Hyacinth was a sort of vision," Edwards says. "A dream. I sought out of my old wooden banjo and nylon string guitar a hidden path. Secrets they had kept from me within themselves all these years and created a new Mythos to myself of philosophical and spiritual ideas or concepts." Once he'd harnessed the music within, he enlisted multi-instrumentalist and producer Ben Chisholm (The Armed, Chelsea Wolfe, Converge) to help him realize the album's recording and mix. "Overall, the album is a weaving of narratives ancient and modern, of humankind's search for understanding of this world we find ourselves in and of each other. In all its simplicity and complexity," Edwards continues. "Hyacinth is a reference to the Greek myth of Apollo. And, the word meaning a precious stone and blue larkspur flower of purple and pall."

David Eugene Edwards has always been larger than life. His music with innovative heavy droning folk band Wovenhand, and before that the haunting revivification of high lonesome sound antique Americana of 16 Horsepower breathed a near apocalyptic sense of urgency and power into musical archetypes long abandoned in the latter-20th Century. On his first-ever solo album under his own name, Hyacinth, David Eugene Edwards delivers a sound uniquely his own, with a vulnerability and introspection unheard from him before. Stripping back the heavy rock of his recent work with Wovenhand, Hyacinth puts the man's voice, and sparing instrumentation into the main focus. There's a somber beauty and world-weary tone throughout these songs. The album could've been considered a slight return to the more melodic sounds of 16 Horsepower's Secret South (2000) and the first, self-titled Wovenhand album (2002). But there's more going on here: a rhythmic, pulsating undercurrent reminiscent of the tape loops and rudimentary rhythms of 80s Industrial post-punk as well as 808 Drill Style beats. The overall effect is often as if we're hearing the clock ticking away our own mortality. "Hyacinth was a sort of vision," Edwards says. "A dream. I sought out of my old wooden banjo and nylon string guitar a hidden path. Secrets they had kept from me within themselves all these years and created a new Mythos to myself of philosophical and spiritual ideas or concepts." Once he'd harnessed the music within, he enlisted multi-instrumentalist and producer Ben Chisholm (The Armed, Chelsea Wolfe, Converge) to help him realize the album's recording and mix. "Overall, the album is a weaving of narratives ancient and modern, of humankind's search for understanding of this world we find ourselves in and of each other. In all its simplicity and complexity," Edwards continues. "Hyacinth is a reference to the Greek myth of Apollo. And, the word meaning a precious stone and blue larkspur flower of purple and pall."

Woods are in bloom again, inviting you to disappear into a new spectrum of colors and sounds and dreams on Perennial. Formed in Brooklyn in 2004, Woods have matured into a true independent institution, above and below the root, reliably emerging every few years with new music that grows towards the latest sky. Operating the Woodsist label since 2006 and curating the beloved homespun Woodsist Festival for the musical universe they’ve built, Perennial is the sound of a band on the edge of their 20th anniversary and still finding bold new ways to sound like (and challenge) themselves. Perennial grew from a bed of guitar/keyboard/drum loops by Woods head-in-chief Jeremy Earl, a form of winter night meditation that evolved into an unexplored mode of collaborative songwriting. With Earl’s starting points, he and bandmates Jarvis Taveniere and John Andrews convened, first at Earl’s house in New York, then at Panoramic House studio in Stinson Beach, California, site of sessions for 2020’s Strange To Explain. With a view of the sparkling Pacific and tape rolling, they began to build, jamming over the loops, switching instruments, and developing a few dozen building blocks. The album’s resulting 11 songs, 4 of them instrumental, are in the classic Woods mode--shimmering, familiar, fractionally unsettling--but with the half-invisible infinity boxes of Earl’s loops burbling beneath each like a mysterious underground source. From source to seed to bloom, each loop unfolds into something unpredictable, from the jeweled pop of the aching “Little Black Flowers” to the ecstatic starlit freak-beat of “Another Side.” They are blossomings both far-out and comforting, like the Mellotronic cloud-hopping of “Between the Past,” or sometimes just plain comforting, like the widescreen snowglobe fantasia of the instrumental “White Winter Melody,” touched by Connor Gallaher’s pedal steel. Woods have long used the studio as a place of songwriting, naming 2007’s At Rear House after their shared dwelling and recording space. But Perennial also carries with it an even longer view of Woods. Emerging from the process alongside the music was Earl’s reflection that “perennial plants and flowers are nature’s loops,” an idea rolling under the album’s lyrics like the loops themselves. It certainly applies to the band, too, who have quietly tended to a long, committed project of being a band in the weird-ass 21st century, both individually and communally. Though separated by coasts, the communal sprit carries through Earl, Taveniere, and Andrews’ collaboration, a living embodiment of the freedoms rediscovered every time a new collectively created piece of music emerges. For nearly two decades, Woods have survived subgenres, anchored in the fertile soil below hashtags like lo-fi and freak-folk and psychedelic and indie, and built a shared history that’s something to marvel at. As the flagship band for Woodsist, they’ve accumulated a striking extended family of collaborators (and Woods alum) that have made the label one of the most dependable imprints in the kaleidoscopic low-key underground. It’s a glow that’s transferred whole to the blissed-out Woodsist Fests held in Accord, New York in recent years, which have folded in a wide range of diverse sounds, from the the jazz cosmoverse of the Sun Ra Arkestra and adventurous legends Yo La Tengo, to a hard-to-even-count family tree of contemporaries, like Kevin Morby (who served a few tours of duty as Woods bassist) and Kurt Vile (who released his 2009 debut on Woodsist), a living community in sound. Perennial carries all of this, shaped by decades, but made in the moment, and here right now. The smell of the flowers doesn’t remain, but sometimes the flowers do. Jesse Jarnow Recorded and mixed by Jarvis Taveniere at Panoramic House in Stinson Beach, CA with additional recording at The Ship in Los Angeles, CA and Cottekill Bird Sanctuary in Stone Ridge, NY. Produced by Jarvis Taveniere and Jeremy Earl. Mastered by Timothy Stollenwerk at Stereophonic Mastering in Portland, OR. Jeremy Earl - vocals, guitars, drums, percussion, sk-5, mellotron, vibraphone, autoharp, loops Jarvis Taveniere - guitar, bass, upright bass, hammond, vocals John Andrews - piano, organs, mellotron, drums, vocals Connor Gallaher - Pedal Steel Kyle Forester - sax, wurlitzer

Woods are in bloom again, inviting you to disappear into a new spectrum of colors and sounds and dreams on Perennial. Formed in Brooklyn in 2004, Woods have matured into a true independent institution, above and below the root, reliably emerging every few years with new music that grows towards the latest sky. Operating the Woodsist label since 2006 and curating the beloved homespun Woodsist Festival for the musical universe they’ve built, Perennial is the sound of a band on the edge of their 20th anniversary and still finding bold new ways to sound like (and challenge) themselves. Perennial grew from a bed of guitar/keyboard/drum loops by Woods head-in-chief Jeremy Earl, a form of winter night meditation that evolved into an unexplored mode of collaborative songwriting. With Earl’s starting points, he and bandmates Jarvis Taveniere and John Andrews convened, first at Earl’s house in New York, then at Panoramic House studio in Stinson Beach, California, site of sessions for 2020’s Strange To Explain. With a view of the sparkling Pacific and tape rolling, they began to build, jamming over the loops, switching instruments, and developing a few dozen building blocks. The album’s resulting 11 songs, 4 of them instrumental, are in the classic Woods mode--shimmering, familiar, fractionally unsettling--but with the half-invisible infinity boxes of Earl’s loops burbling beneath each like a mysterious underground source. From source to seed to bloom, each loop unfolds into something unpredictable, from the jeweled pop of the aching “Little Black Flowers” to the ecstatic starlit freak-beat of “Another Side.” They are blossomings both far-out and comforting, like the Mellotronic cloud-hopping of “Between the Past,” or sometimes just plain comforting, like the widescreen snowglobe fantasia of the instrumental “White Winter Melody,” touched by Connor Gallaher’s pedal steel. Woods have long used the studio as a place of songwriting, naming 2007’s At Rear House after their shared dwelling and recording space. But Perennial also carries with it an even longer view of Woods. Emerging from the process alongside the music was Earl’s reflection that “perennial plants and flowers are nature’s loops,” an idea rolling under the album’s lyrics like the loops themselves. It certainly applies to the band, too, who have quietly tended to a long, committed project of being a band in the weird-ass 21st century, both individually and communally. Though separated by coasts, the communal sprit carries through Earl, Taveniere, and Andrews’ collaboration, a living embodiment of the freedoms rediscovered every time a new collectively created piece of music emerges. For nearly two decades, Woods have survived subgenres, anchored in the fertile soil below hashtags like lo-fi and freak-folk and psychedelic and indie, and built a shared history that’s something to marvel at. As the flagship band for Woodsist, they’ve accumulated a striking extended family of collaborators (and Woods alum) that have made the label one of the most dependable imprints in the kaleidoscopic low-key underground. It’s a glow that’s transferred whole to the blissed-out Woodsist Fests held in Accord, New York in recent years, which have folded in a wide range of diverse sounds, from the the jazz cosmoverse of the Sun Ra Arkestra and adventurous legends Yo La Tengo, to a hard-to-even-count family tree of contemporaries, like Kevin Morby (who served a few tours of duty as Woods bassist) and Kurt Vile (who released his 2009 debut on Woodsist), a living community in sound. Perennial carries all of this, shaped by decades, but made in the moment, and here right now. The smell of the flowers doesn’t remain, but sometimes the flowers do. Jesse Jarnow Recorded and mixed by Jarvis Taveniere at Panoramic House in Stinson Beach, CA with additional recording at The Ship in Los Angeles, CA and Cottekill Bird Sanctuary in Stone Ridge, NY. Produced by Jarvis Taveniere and Jeremy Earl. Mastered by Timothy Stollenwerk at Stereophonic Mastering in Portland, OR. Jeremy Earl - vocals, guitars, drums, percussion, sk-5, mellotron, vibraphone, autoharp, loops Jarvis Taveniere - guitar, bass, upright bass, hammond, vocals John Andrews - piano, organs, mellotron, drums, vocals Connor Gallaher - Pedal Steel Kyle Forester - sax, wurlitzer

Adrian Borland and Graham Bailey might be better known as members of legendary post-punk group The Sound, but the two were childhood friends and had been playing together even earlier in The Outsiders, and continued their deep musical rapport as a duo, creating these intense and engaging songs as Second Layer at the same time as their higher profile band output. Following our release of Courts Or Wars, combining their early material, we are proud to reissue their only full length album, World Of Rubber.

Fueled by experimentation in both song construction and recording techniques, the duo leave you enveloped in what The Quietus described as, “a monochrome worldview morbidly obsessed with the dehumanizing effect of war, nuclear weapon annihilation, and the fracturing and negation of the self within an increasingly distorted and technologically mediated society.” Indeed, the goal had been to make each album a concept album, with this to be titled: Second Layer’s World Of Rubber. Alas, this was to be the first and last of those efforts. New detailed liner notes from Graham Bailey shed considerable light on the creation of this cold classic and its immediate aftermath.

Bailey’s inventive construction and deconstruction of various electronics, effects boxes and tape loops form the propulsive base for these songs. Borland’s guitar playing is jagged and unleashed. Above it all is an undeniable sense of melody and Adrian’s distinctive vocals. Soon, they would wonder where Second Layer ended and The Sound began, but World Of Rubber would stand as a document of this fertile period. It would also be a lasting testament to their desire to push the boundaries of their creativity. Dark and brooding the result is what Bandcamp described as “brutally bleak, blank-eyed post-punk that remains chillingly compelling.”

ORKA is a duo comprising Francine Perry from London and Jens L. Thomsen from the Faroe Islands. They crossed paths in the vibrant club scene of London, an immersive world that had a profound impact on their creative journey. ORKA's music draws inspiration from the Hardcore Continuum and UK sound system culture, blending it with elements of minimal techno, progressive electro, and ambient music, resulting in a diverse range of stylistic influences. Now ORKA emerges with their long-awaited new album. Once again, they greet us with their distinct blend of earthy tones and a bold, adventurous spirit, taking us to a realm bursting with neon-lit hues, pulsating club beats, and an abundance of sensory stimulation. Aptly named "All At Once," the album title provides a clue to the auditory and sensory experience that awaits the listener in this immersive record. ORKA has continuously evolved as a project over many years and iterations, embracing fluidity and a relentless quest for fresh sonic amalgamations. Their journey has been marked by a gradual refinement, stripping away layers to reach the core essentials. This transformative process has unfolded over the years, reaching from their site-specific, cowshed sampling and band-based expedition in "Livandi oyða" (2007) to the bold, innovative exploration of minimalist techno in "Vað" (2016). However, their latest release, "All At Once," signifies yet another remarkable leap forward in their artistic evolution. The seeds of this artistic progression were already planted in previous releases like the <13 EP (2017) and the hard-hitting techno single "Juno" (2018). However, it is with the arrival of the album "All At Once" that ORKA's vision fully blossoms, unveiling a vivid and expansive sonic landscape. This latest offering presents a glorious and vibrant tapestry, showcasing a maximalist approach to techno that pulsates with energy coupled with their signature meticulous attention to sound design, reflecting a deep awareness and intentionality in their creative process. If this album was to be thought of as a place, it would be a shimmering, futuristic, buzzing kind of city with vibrating night-time drizzle from above and endless glowing lights in the distance. Several of the tracks are built around cut-up vocal samples that are divided from their semiotic meanings and reconfigured as loops, and thus mined for their timbral and percussive qualities. Recurring collaborators South London duo LV (Hyperdub, Keysound, Brownswood) are featured on a handful of these tracks, mixing in their complex cocktail of grime and bliss. The result is a sort of queer erotic dance-floor mysticism, and the closest to a full-blown dance record that ORKA have ever made. There must be a club in that shimmering futurist city of the night.. and it is a collective, inclusive and alluring place. There is no need to fear any dancefloor exhaustion by listening to this album though, as there are also moments of floating cyber beauty and pure enveloping warmth to be found among its tracks. As always, following the artistic journey of ORKA is a joyous experience, filled with unexpected twists and turns that keep us captivated.

This unusual trio album combines electronic musician and tape loop specialist BlankFor.ms with MacArthur fellow pianist Jason Moran & the wizardry of drummer Marcus Gilmore. The electronics interact with the piano and drums in real time, by spontaneously recording loops grabbed on the fly and re-infusing the sonic planes with various effects, resulting in sounds and energies rarely heard before.

- Panda Bear, Voice of the Seven Woods, Mammane Sanni Abdoulaye. File under: Jazz / Electronic. Titi Bakorta almost didn't make it. Born in and raised in Kinshasa, the Congolese multi-instrumentalist was on his way to Uganda when he fell off the boat as it traversed the mighty Congo River. Unable to swim, Bakorta was saved by a friend who dragged him to the closest city Kisangani, where he was unexpectedly acquainted with local singer Dancer Papalas. Soon they were performing in bands together, traveling across the continents and settling in Tanzania, South Sudan and Dubai - they even appeared in front of General Defao, the beloved Congolese vocalist who fronted legendary soukous bands Grand Zaiko Wawa, Choc Stars and Big Stars. Now based in Kampala, Bakorta offers his own unique take on Congolese pop and folk sounds, weaving traditional elements through a psychedelic lattice of guitar loops, mangled voices and eccentric beatbox rhythms on his debut full-length. He bends woodblock snaps on 'Kop' into stuttered blurs, wailing emotionally over twanging riffs and bizarre, theatrical xylophone twinkles. It's still pop music on some level, but curved around Bakorta's unwieldy personal narrative - there's a sense that everything could unravel at any time but it all hangs together, strengthened by Bakorta's confident, contemporary production smarts. 'Elles Vais' is more airy, with celestial soukous vocals that float above tight, electronic drums. Tangled guitar echoes overlap each other like dense, weaved tapestries, contrasting perfectly with Bakorta's urgent, driving pulse. Occasionally, he transcends completely, like on 'Molende' where his chants and phrases neatly flutter between praise music and contemporary R&B. "Hustling, hustling, hustling, everyday I'm hustling," an angelic voice coos over phased electric guitar plucks and looped, AutoTuned chorals. It makes perfect sense that Bakorta should team up with Metal Preyers' Jesse Hackett on the album's final track, the aptly-titled 'Titis Haunted House'. The two artists share a similar obsession with moonlit, carnivalesque soundscapes, and Hackett's eerie synths provide a suitably eccentric foundation for Bakorta's ghostly wails and fuzzy guitar sounds.

As Wreckless Eric he needs little introduction - he wrote and recorded the classic Whole Wide World and had a hit with it back in 1977. Since then it"s been a hit for countless other artists including The Monkees, Cage The Elephant and Billie Joe Armstrong of Green Day. Eric"s version featured in the 2022 Expedia / Superbowl / Ewan MacGregor travel ad, and the Cage The Elephant version is the new theme tune for the podcast Smartless. This new album, Leisureland, marks a return to his more ramshackle world of recording - guitars and temperamentally unpredictable analogue keyboards, beat-boxes and loops in conjunction with a real drummer, Sam Shepherd, who he met in a local coffee shop in Catskill, New York. He was delighted to find that Sam lived around the corner and could easily drop by to put drums on newly recorded tracks. The recording methodology may have been Contemporary American but the subject matter is almost entirely British. It also contains more instrumentals than any of his previous albums.

As Wreckless Eric he needs little introduction - he wrote and recorded the classic Whole Wide World and had a hit with it back in 1977. Since then it"s been a hit for countless other artists including The Monkees, Cage The Elephant and Billie Joe Armstrong of Green Day. Eric"s version featured in the 2022 Expedia / Superbowl / Ewan MacGregor travel ad, and the Cage The Elephant version is the new theme tune for the podcast Smartless. This new album, Leisureland, marks a return to his more ramshackle world of recording - guitars and temperamentally unpredictable analogue keyboards, beat-boxes and loops in conjunction with a real drummer, Sam Shepherd, who he met in a local coffee shop in Catskill, New York. He was delighted to find that Sam lived around the corner and could easily drop by to put drums on newly recorded tracks. The recording methodology may have been Contemporary American but the subject matter is almost entirely British. It also contains more instrumentals than any of his previous albums.

Dutch multi-instrumentalist Felbm returns with the conceptual album "cycli infini" : a 38-minute composition of metamorphosing tape loops, musical patterns and instrumental sketches. Further exploring the concept is the vinyl release which features the track spread over both sides and cut to the end of each locked groove - creating an essentially never-ending piece that challenges the idea of the traditional listening process. The idea came to fruition by way of a lifelong interest and growing awareness of the cyclical nature of the world around him - be it through observing nature, or the mathematical and mind-bending works of Dutch artist MC Escher, or minimalist composers such as Erik Satie, Laraaji and Melaine Dalibert.

"The openness of Laraaji"s and Satie"s music have also been an influence to create a certain softness and feeling of comfort, as I like this piece to be a place you want to revisit", says Felbm, real name Eelco Topper. While Topper"s previous releases on Soundway Records comprised series of short, individual sketches, on cycli infini the tapestry is sewn seamlessly together using a step-like progression through the circle of fifths, which as the name suggests, brings the listener back to the musical key and soundscape at which they started. Should the full track be on repeat, it begins anew without being noticed. The piece began life with a layer of drone loops using tapes and delay pedals, over which acoustic instruments such as flute, saxophone and bass trumpet would playfully but gently interpret a melody - toying with jazz, ambient, fourth world and percussive sounds. As the music evolves through the key progression, organic elements such as birdsong and wind chimes ground the piece in nature. Says Topper: "the never-ending metamorphosis of matter has always fascinated me, the idea that nothing ever really disappears and everything has already been here... just in different shapes."

Produced alongside Aaron Dessner (The National, Sharon Van Etten, Taylor Swift), Collections From The Whiteout heralds the first time Ben has opened the door to production outside of he and his bands closer confines.

The foreboding darkness that coated Ben’s second record I Forget Where We Were and thinly veiled its follow up Noonday Dream, isn’t so evident on Collections.. These are songs written from headlines scanned, or news stories scrolled past. Ben has taken those snippets and let his curiosity take control, creating an aural scrapbook that reverberates with tape loops and guitar FXs.

There are sounds akin to Brian Eno, Durutti Column and Steve Reich in there, but also Neil Young and Townes Van Zandt. It’s a million miles away from Ben’s multi-platinum selling debut, but a path plotted from Ben’s then to his now isn’t so far removed.



The door was also left open to some new players too. Yussef Dayes, one of the UK’s most innovative young drummer/producer’ especially in the field of jazz features, as does Kate Stables from This Is The Kit, James Krivchenia from Big Thief, Kyle Keegan from Hiss Golden Messenger, and the aforementioned Aaron Dessner lent his hand too where needed. Long-term guitarist to Ben’s band, Mickey Smith, remains a reassuring presence. Rob Moose, a long-standing arranger of strings for Bon Iver and a collaborator to Laura Marling, Blake Mills, and Phoebe Bridgers is also present, peppering the mix.