Search:ten words

The year is 1989 and it's the peak of the Belgium New Beat craze. Not limited to records and clubs, the New Beat lifestyle was marketed to death with all sorts of fashion items, a plethora of accessories, and at least one erotic movie.

Fast forward a few decades. In the middle of nowhere, Switzerland, tucked inside a long-forgotten video store that closed its doors in 1999 and sat untouched for 20 years, we stumbled upon a strange treasure amongst tons of VHS hidden in the adult section. A mysterious VHS labeled "Erotiques New Beat."

What we found was pure 1989 Belgian erotica-low budget, fog-drenched, and neon-soaked. Minimalist sets. Girls in PVC. Flashing lights. Mirrors. Fog machines. Loud colors. It was erotic, sure-but also oddly sweet, almost innocent in its surreal, lo-fi dreaminess.

And then came the soundtrack.

That's what really floored us. A collection of New Beat gems, raw, simple, irresistible. Somehow, it captured the full spectrum of the genre: 100-110 bpm grooves with shades of EBM, sleazy coldwave rhythms, sensual synths, proto-Goa pulses, monk choirs, oriental melodies, and a healthy dose of movie samples. It felt alive. Timeless. Utterly perfect.

We had to know more. We dug, tracked down the source, and in 2020, reissued the soundtrack on vinyl. It sold out fast. Now, five years later, we thought about pressing one final batch. A special edition on picture disc, featuring the original smileys from the VHS.

Banana Stand vinyl. I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone is Wednesday's second fulllength album & first as a full band. The Asheville, NC quintet (guitarist/ vocalist Karly Hartzman, lead guitarist Daniel Gorham, pedal steel guitarist Xandy Chelmis, bassist Margo Schultz & drummer Alan Miller) maximizes the dark dissonance of a three guitar attack to highlight the emotionality of Hartzman's bell-clear vocals & wisps of half-recalled memories & literary references that make up her lyrics. I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone's eight songs meld elements of shoegaze, grunge, indie pop & southern American culture into a uniquely personal style of modern rock music that resonates with power & tenderness. The ever-darkening & deepening of Wednesdays' sound on I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone owes a debt of influence to The Swirlies, Arthur Russell, Red House Painters, Tenniscoats, Ana Roxanne, Acetone, & their continued collaboration with MJ Lenderman (who lends backing vocals to the songs "Billboard" & "November"). I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone was recorded at Hartzman's home with engineering assistance from her roommate Colin Miller. The depth & clarity of the recordings balance the distorted volume of Wednesday's live performances with the intimacy of Hartzman's voice. Her words hold the center of the chaos, unobscured by the power of the band. Hartzman describes her lyrics as "attempts to access old personal memories & do them justice through prose, with inspiration from the writings of Richard Brautigan, Flannery O'Connor, David Berman & Tom Robbins, & movies like Steel Magnolias."

Repress on transparent green vinyl. With Loneliness Road, pianist Jamie Saft, legendary bassist Steve Swallow, and versatile drummer Bobby Previte present a work that is as unexpected as it is captivating_elevated by the haunting voice of none other than Iggy Pop. Far from being just another jazz album, this recording is a bold artistic exploration that fuses contemplative jazz, elements of blues, and the gravelly baritone of a punk icon turned poet. At its core, the album is deeply rooted in modern jazz tradition. Saft's lyrical piano, Swallow's fluid electric bass lines, and Previte's dynamic, nuanced drumming create a soundscape that is intimate and atmospheric. The true surprise, however, comes with Iggy Pop's appearance on three tracks. Here, he doesn't snarl or shout as in his rock persona _ instead, he delivers words with a weathered, introspective tone that feels more spoken than sung. The lyrics touch on loneliness, impermanence, and existential searching _ perfectly in tune with the album's title. Tracks like the eponymous "Loneliness Road" and "Don't Lose Yourself" are steeped in lyrical depth and emotional gravity, drawing the listener into a reflective, late-night world.

This 2-LP set brings together both volumes of Fred Steiner and The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra’s recordings of music from the original Star Trek TV series, featuring score cues from classic episodes like The Trouble With Tribbles, By Any Other Name, The Doomsday Machine, and many more. Pressed on Translucent Clear vinyl, the set comes in a gatefold jacket featuring brand-new art from acclaimed illustrator Malachi Ward.

Classic black 2LP in gatefold! "Her darkest, heaviest and most personal album yet . . . a haunting, doomy exercise in loud-quiet dynamics." Rolling Stone Sleep paralysis plagues singer/songwriter Chelsea Wolfe, and that strange intersection of the conscious and the unconscious has inadvertently manifested itself within her work. Across the span of her first four albums, there is an underlying tension, a distorted and nebulous territory where dark shadows hover along the edges of the sublime and the graceful. But until now, Wolfe's trials and tribulations with the boundaries between dreams and reality have only been a subconscious influence on her work. With her fifth album, Abyss, she deliberately confronts those boundaries and crafts a score to that realm she describes as the "hazy afterlife. an inverted thunderstorm. the dark backward. the abyss of time." Chelsea Wolfe's material has always felt intensely private, from the almost voyeuristic bedroom-production aesthetic of her debut album The Grime and the Glow to the stark themes and atmospheres of 2013's Pain Is Beauty. "Abyss is meant to have the feeling of when you're dreaming, and you briefly wake up, but then fall back asleep into the same dream, diving quickly into your own subconscious," says Wolfe. To conjure this in-between world, Wolfe continued her ongoing collaboration with multi-instrumentalist and co-writer Ben Chisholm and drummer Dylan Fujioka, with Ezra Buchla brought on board to play viola and Mike Sullivan (Russian Circles) enlisted to contribute guitar. The ensemble traveled to Dallas, TX to record with producer John Congleton (Swans, St. Vincent). In the back of her mind burned the words of designer Yohji Yamamoto: "Perfection is ugly. Somewhere in the things humans make, I want to see scars, failure, disorder, distortion." The resulting eleven songs reflect that philosophy as they smoulder with human frailty, intimacy, quiet passion, anxiety, and deep longing. "Sleep and dream issues have followed me my whole life," remarks Wolfe as she revisits notes from the writing and recording sessions. In a way, these issues have become a part of Chelsea Wolfe's identity, for whom the notion of sleep as an escape has been subverted. Abyss captures this dichotomy, this battle between the soothing and the upsetting, and demonstrates why Chelsea Wolfe has become one of the most intriguing songwriters of the decade.

'Mei Semones' sweetly evocative blend of jazz, bossa nova and math-y indie rock is not only a way for her to find solace in her favorite genres, but is an intuitive means of catharsis. "Blending everything that I like together and trying to make something new - that's what feels most natural to me," says the 23-year-old Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter and guitarist. "It's what feels most true to who I am as an artist." Plinking guitar tones and asymmetrical time shnatures exemplify her forays into angular indie rock more now than ever before, especially on her debut Bayonet Records single "Wakare no Kotoba"-its wide-interval arpeggios in odd meters being some of the most technically difficult guitar work Mei has ever implemented in her songwriting. Translated to "parting words" in English, the self-described "anti-love song" serves as a farewell to a toxic friendship, complete with orchestral swells and crashing guitars. Originally from Ann Arbor, Michigan, Semones began playing music at a young age, starting out on piano at age four before moving to electric guitar at age eleven. After playing jazz guitar in high school, she went on to study guitar performance with a jazz focus at Berklee College of Music. College is where she met her current bandmates, including string players Noah Leong and Claudius Agrippa, whose respective viola and violin add softness and multidimensionality to Mei's intricate guitar work. After releasing a slew of singles and an EP in 2022, coinciding with her move to New York City, Mei and her band have since gone on to collaborate with post-bossa balladeer John Roseboro and embark on their first-ever tour with the melodic rock outfit Ravi, Semones chronicles infatuation, devotion, and vulnerability in her songs, complete with sweeping strings, virtuosic guitar-playing and heartfelt lyrics sung in both English and Japanese, that have all become part of her sonic trademark: ornately catchy, genre-fusing compositions serving as the backdrop to tender lyrics touching on the universalities of human emotion.

'Mei Semones' sweetly evocative blend of jazz, bossa nova and math-y indie rock is not only a way for her to find solace in her favorite genres, but is an intuitive means of catharsis. "Blending everything that I like together and trying to make something new - that's what feels most natural to me," says the 23-year-old Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter and guitarist. "It's what feels most true to who I am as an artist." Plinking guitar tones and asymmetrical time shnatures exemplify her forays into angular indie rock more now than ever before, especially on her debut Bayonet Records single "Wakare no Kotoba"-its wide-interval arpeggios in odd meters being some of the most technically difficult guitar work Mei has ever implemented in her songwriting. Translated to "parting words" in English, the self-described "anti-love song" serves as a farewell to a toxic friendship, complete with orchestral swells and crashing guitars. Originally from Ann Arbor, Michigan, Semones began playing music at a young age, starting out on piano at age four before moving to electric guitar at age eleven. After playing jazz guitar in high school, she went on to study guitar performance with a jazz focus at Berklee College of Music. College is where she met her current bandmates, including string players Noah Leong and Claudius Agrippa, whose respective viola and violin add softness and multidimensionality to Mei's intricate guitar work. After releasing a slew of singles and an EP in 2022, coinciding with her move to New York City, Mei and her band have since gone on to collaborate with post-bossa balladeer John Roseboro and embark on their first-ever tour with the melodic rock outfit Ravi, Semones chronicles infatuation, devotion, and vulnerability in her songs, complete with sweeping strings, virtuosic guitar-playing and heartfelt lyrics sung in both English and Japanese, that have all become part of her sonic trademark: ornately catchy, genre-fusing compositions serving as the backdrop to tender lyrics touching on the universalities of human emotion.

Black Vinyl LP. The world has changed, we shouldn't try and pretend otherwise. While we were shut away in isolation our routines shifted, social patterns evolved, and our hopes and dreams were twisted into cobwebs we're still trying to wipe from our fingers. Ziúr tentatively approached this on her last album Antifate, an ambitious and complex hybrid pop fever dream that looked back to a Medieval escapist fantasy as the scent of revolution seemed to hum in the air. But when restrictions were eased, she found herself staring down a discombobulated society that had trapped itself in a spiral of microwaved nostalgia and detached, narcotic repetition. Eyeroll then is Ziúr's musical panacea, a tincture to wake us from our creative slumber and prompt external connection and reflection. It's a polyphonous hex that demands human interaction, and Ziúr's hand-picked alliance of collaborators - Elvin Brandhi, Abdullah Miniawy, Iceboy Violet, Juliana Huxtable, Ledef, and James Ginzburg - each provide distinct voices that together herald a bewildering sonic epoch. Ziúr's palette had to evolve to match the scope of the project, but it was pure necessity that informed the album's defining tone. Recording mostly at night, Ziúr was conscious of the noise she was making so developed a unique way to record organic percussion. Using a set of rototoms - low profile tunable drums - she scratched, scraped and gently tapped the skins to build up the undulating and unstable rhythmic backdrop for each track. It's the first sound we hear on the opener 'Eyeroll', rattling like lost marbles against Elvin Brandhi's primal croaks and screams. And when Brandhi's twisted articulations form words, Ziúr matches the energy with chaotic thuds and serrated blasts of saturated electronics. "I roll the shittiest cigarette," she squeals like she's about to start a mosh pit at Paris's GRM Studios. Without pause, Abdullah Miniawy takes over on 'Malikan', building on the promise of material with Simo Cell, Carl Gari and HVAD with corrosive trumpet blasts and charged, politically incendiary Arabic vocals. Inspired by pre-Islamic poetry and the Qu'ranic chanters he heard growing up in Saudi Arabia and Egypt, he spins labyrinthine stories that cross between the worlds, breaking down physical and spiritual borders simultaneously. Miniawy's scope is expanded even further on his second collaboration, 'If The City Burns I Will Not Run'. "If it rains and the city drowns," he utters over gaseous electronics, "I will not run away, but I will be anxious for the heart of one close to me." After a supple vocal turn from Manchester's Iceboy Violet on 'Move On' and a surreal interlude from poet- DJ-artist-theorist Juliana Huxtable on '99 Favor Taste', Brandhi returns with two more hyperactive collaborations: ,'Nontrivial Differential' and 'Cut Cut Quote'. On the former she slices into Ziúr's skeletal jazz eruptions, screaming and crooning interchangeably, fluxing between the rap battle and the cabaret. The latter is completely different meanwhile, with Brandhi settling into her role as front-woman and groaning dizzying improvised passages that sound like grunge crossed with psychedelic no-wave. Brandhi's spiky musical history has prepared her well for this collaboration; she's a prolific producer and has been using her voice spontaneously since debuting with father-daughter improv duo Yeah You in the mid 2020s. She's found an ideal foil in Ziúr, a producer who matches her restless energy and willingness to bend formality, and leaves an indelible mark on Eyeroll. But the album's most tender moments are from Ziúr herself, who winds the album down on 'Hasty Revisionism', growling over collapsible beats and cascading strings, and comes to an unexpected conclusion with country coda 'Lacrymaturity'. Its feverish amalgamation of country music and euphoric, experimental electronics might seem incongruous at first, but in context with the rest of the album is the only possible conclusion. With Eyeroll Ziúr is making a firm statement about togetherness, humanity, and the renewal of hope when all seems lost. By bringing together such a wide but philosophically harmonic team of collaborators, she's conducted a body of work that speaks to the creative fringe in no uncertain terms. Now's the time to throw away what you think you know, and build bridges you didn't think you need. Now's the time for action. She may have spent her entire career avoiding the solipsistic trappings of "queer art", but by assembling a communal statement that questions so many normative assumptions about music, politics, and beyond, Ziúr has chanced upon her queerest album yet. Cringe? Eyeroll.

A1 - Tried So Hard
Intensely atmospheric from the outset, Tried So Hard sees ASC explore a more minimal approach to breakbeats with sparse drums and kicks tentatively held at arm's length by imposing hi hats. Dripping with depth and a dense layer of synthwork enveloping the landscape, this unique track develops continually with a suite of interlocking effects while the vocal yearns "I've tried so hard" - both haunting and thought provoking.

A2 - Parallel Seas
Cheery synths and lively bongos introduce us to Parallel Seas, which quickly becomes a glorious, powerful amen workout providing that perfect blend of atmospheric bliss alongside crunchy, analogue amens programmed with ASC's exquisite attention to detail - crashing triumphantly to an upbeat rhythm, littered with rousing vocal hits, elegant synthwork and nods to yesteryear galore.

AA1 - Alacrity
An energetic, surging breakbeat powers Alacrity as ASC utilises breaks reminiscent of classic driving atmospheric tracks of the past from scene legends including Intense and Artemis. Uniquely constructed with a pulsating, fluid energy, the break pattern utilises relentless kicks, cymbals and a wonderful long snare primed to move the dancefloor as synths wash and a lush vocal whooshes along in ecstasy.

AA2 - Glimmer Of Hope
Jumping straight in with a DJ-friendly beat intro, ASC selects a crisp, definitive selection of old school cuts for Glimmer of Hope, chopped and served with a barrage of sci-fi effects, micro melodies, a bellowing, rumbling bassline and a serene intensity driven by dreamy pads resulting in a perfect patchwork of elements, offering endless layers of detail for your ears to pick through with each listen.

Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

A1 - Symbiotic Link
Kicking off another stellar, varied EP, ASC opens Symbiotic Link with an eerie introduction telling of a tense interaction between orcas in open waters before a thunderous break with immensely sharp venom-fueled snares often used by the likes of Photek back in the day aggressively seizes the attention, jolting and stabbing as the juddering bassline rumbles below - as synthy melodies provide respite in the mix.

A2 - A Single Emotion
Serving up another raucous, nostalgia-driven treat for any breakbeat fan, ASC channels his old-school mastery with a thoroughly absorbing journey through a variety of breaks, edited, chopped and filtered to perfection with dense, earthy basslines lying beneath. Lifted by a soundscape filled with light horn melodies, echoing vocal hits and washes of pads, you'll experience more than a single emotion here.

AA1 - Whirl
Time for a Hot Pants break serenade through swathes of atmospheric synths as Whirl expands ASC's diverse repertoire further still - an earworm melody at the forefront is provided by the bassline on this occasion - simple yet immensely effective. The bass intertwines with the breaks effortlessly while sci-fi effects and samples whoosh and fall with several tonal changes keeping things fresh till the curtains close.

AA2 - Frontier
A rousing cymbal kicks off a curious, deep introduction punctuated by melodic keys and a simmering undertone of suspense. Chunky old school breaks suddenly enter the mix with a continuous, enveloping bassline as the atmosphere builds steadily via micro melodies, noir vocal samples and delicate bells, as ASC closes another Spatial EP in his inimitable, unpredictable engaging style.

Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

For her second full-length as Plume Girl, Sowmya Somanath crafts a space where boundaries of language, feeling, and sound start to dissolve. ‘Unnameable Glory’ ruminates on the limits of expression, and the luminous freedom that emerges when we let go of the need to name. Elaborating on the exploratory songs of her debut, Plume Girl continues to bring together Hindustani classical improvisation, ambient soundscapes, and experimental pop.

Somanath’s voice—from gentle murmur to radiant call—guides the listener through dreamlike arrangements: sunrise guitar arpeggios, humming choirs, heartbeat kickdrums, and synths tremble. Elsewhere field sounds and old family recordings are collaged, a woman’s giggle transposed into a piano melody, a sloshing body of water mirrored by synth bleeps. Plume Girl conjures moments of revelation, drawing from the natural beauty and intuition, that unnameable glory.

Is there a divinity or a wholeness that exists beyond language, belief, or tradition? Unnameable Glory both celebrates and gently challenges the notion: Can we honour the creative richness of culture while also seeing through the divisions it creates? Can we meet the world—and each other—without assumption, without fear, with eyes made new? In these songs, the sacred is found not in grand gestures, but in the anonymous freedom of simply being: the iridescence of oil and water on a street, the smile of a stranger, the hush that settles by a creek.

At the heart of the album is a sense of curiosity and surrender—a willingness to listen without judgment, to let the moment be unnameable, to allow wonder to arise and dissolve. And yet, as Somanath notes, there’s an impulse to capture that’s tough to ignore; a need to replicate and remember. Unnameable Glory dwells in this tension: between holding and letting go, between the urge to define and the beauty of what cannot be contained. There is a quiet, revolutionary joy in simply living and sensing together. Music becomes a meeting place for the whole, the holy, and the unnamable.

Keys To The World, Richard Ashcroft's third solo album, landed in January 2006 and quickly crept like a mile-a-minute vine to number two, whereto it clung for some time. Produced by long-time collaborator Chris Potter, it marks the former Verve frontman's last solo full-length for ten years, before its later supersession by 2016's These People. The LP leans heavy on orchestration, its string arrangements by Julian Kershaw performed by the London Met Orchestra, and electric viola parts from Bruce White sallying over its songwritten entirety. Sonically, Ashcroft dialled down the bombasticity of earlier outings for an analgesic, string-swept sound, dividing the lauds: praised by some for its melodic clarity maturer songwriting, others found it all too safe, though that didn't stop it going Platinum in the UK.

Smut is the project of lyricist Tay Roebuck, guitarists Andie Min and Sam Ruschman, drummer Aidan O’Connor, and bassist John Steiner. Roebuck, Ruschman and Min started the band a decade ago in Cincinnati, Ohio. Since then, they’ve played alongside Bully, Wavves, and Nothing. After years in the Cincinnati DIY scene, they made their Bayonet Records full-length debut, How the Light Felt. The record was a revelation. Pitchfork called it “a rigorous, decade-spanning study,” and a “well-oiled spin on late-’80s guitar pop.” Under the Radar called it “pop perfection,” that “blends subtle hooks with wistful lyrics.” It was a record that explored grief through the lens of melancholic dreampop, using drum machines and layered, intricate melodies.
Tomorrow Comes Crashing, Smut's first record with O'Connor and Steiner, sees the band re-energized and trained on the limitless potential that comes with making music with people you love. Galvanized with a new lineup, Smut focused on creating a record that possessed the same towering intensity as the records that first got them into music: Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, Relationship of Command. The outcome is ten of their most intense, bombastic, and focused songs to date.
Catharsis bursts through the seams throughout Tomorrow Comes Crashing. “Syd Sweeney, ”inspired by the actress, is the record's centerpiece. It's about how profoundly strange it can be to be a woman, to be misunderstood by people who don’t even know you. The song is driven by chugging guitars and big, rolling drums. In other words: stadium rock about perception. Paramore meets Dookie. “She connects to the youth and the girls in the water/All she amounts to is someone’s daughter,” sings Roebuck in one particularly poetic moment. The song comes to a thrashing metal-inspired breakdown. It’s ecstatic.
To make the record, Smut recorded “as live as they could,” alongside Aron Kobayashi-Ritch(Momma) in a studio in Red Hook, Brooklyn, over the course of ten days. “We have so much energy right now,” says Roebuck. Right before they went off to New York, Roebuck and Min got married, with the rest of the band by their side. The recording was a true labor of love — driving from Chicago with all their equipment, returning from 12 hour studio days to sleep on friends' couches and floors, Roebuck completely blowing her voice by the end. Smut has always been DIY. Because they love it. Because they have to do it–there’s no other option. Tomorrow Comes Crashing is the culmination of that DIY spirit: making a record that completely encompasses the intensity, moodiness, and emotion of their journey so far.

2025 Repress
Growing up on the north Atlantic island of Iceland bestows one with an unusual and often intense relationship with light and colour: Summers come with endless days, Winters with scant sunlight yet increased sightings of the Aurora Borealis; the mysterious and awe-inspiring glow across the sky. Channelling these energies, Exos
comes to Tresor with his Green Light EP, a five-track collection of the sort of spectrally rich techno synonymous with the Northman’s 27-year career.
Across the EP, the five tracks fizz and pulsate driving ever forward, making the release’s title a three-way play on words referencing the continuous travelling of photons, the verdant warping of the Northern Lights, and the universal colour for Go, for forward propulsion. Smart wordplay can also be found in titles like Grátt Silfur, a term in Íslenska (literally “grey sliver”) which signifies a tension between two parties, further extending the colour metaphor and dark/light dichotomy found elsewhere.
The digital release comes with three extra tracks that continue the dynamic energy, pushed along by the same shifting, mutating force where the music often feels like voices calling out from the darkness or the shimmer of light as the sun rises across the horizon.
Green Light EP continues this year’s blazing return from an artist who, similar to his output, is never stagnant: ever changing form yet ever moving forward.

When Alanis Morissette took direct aim at an ex who wronged her on the eviscerating “You Oughta Know” in 1995, everything about the Top 10 song communicated it wasn’t the usual narrative about love gone south. Or the typical wounded singer wallowing in self pity. Morissette, and both the lead single from and her entire American major-label debut — the profoundly personal Jagged Little Pill — represented a sea change. They kickstarted a movement, one whose impact continues to echo throughout the mainstream nearly three decades later.

Ranked the 69th Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, included on the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s list of 200 Definitive Albums, and featured in several books about essential albums, Jagged Little Pill remains more than a blockbuster that has sold more than 17 million copies in the U.S. and 33 million units worldwide. It’s a statement, an attitude, a soundtrack for anyone seeking inspiration, an outlet, or permission to be themselves.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set of Jagged Little Pill presents the landmark effort in audiophile-grade sound for the first time. A key part of the record’s appeal and accessibility — Glen Ballard’s smooth production, touches that help Morissette’s exposed-nerve fare seem more accessible and melodic — comes through on this special 30th anniversary edition with an openness, presence, and dynamic explosiveness that make the vocalist’s songs that much more real and visceral.

The singer’s distinctive mezzo-soprano deliveries — the octave-rippling highs, dark-hued lows, dramatic crescendos, belted choruses, wispy reflections, occasional yodels — resonate with full-range ardor and depth. As crucial as anything on the record, Morissette’s confessional words take center stage like never before. Ditto the instrumentation and atmospherics that form the magnetic backgrounds of the songs. Key in on the contributions from Red Hot Chili Peppers Dave Navarro and Flea on “You Oughta Know” to Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers' co-founder Benmont Tench’s organ playing on six tracks.

The deluxe packaging of Mobile Fidelity’s Jagged Little Pill UD1S set underscores the work’s distinguished status. Housed in a slipcase, the LPs come in special foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Benefitting from an ultra-low noise floor, superior groove definition, and dead-quiet surfaces, this UD1S reissue is for listeners who prize sound quality and desire to engage themselves in everything involved with the album, including the now-iconic cover art that juxtaposes two portraits of the then-21-year-old singer-songwriter and features typewriter font.

That script — which suggests a raw, blood-on-the-floor document created without modern aids like spell check or language correction — hints at the heightened level of unvarnished intimacy, honesty, and catharsis Morissette offers throughout Jagged Little Pill. Named after a phrase uttered on the astute “You Learn,” the album explores the frank emotions, inherent contradictions, and wishful desires people feel everyday but are often too afraid to express. Morissette displays no such fear or shyness.

Akin to a woman reading from a diary, Morissette leaves nothing to the imagination as she skewers hypocrisy during the poignant “Forgiven,” seeks recompense on the vengeful “You Oughta Know,” and spills her guts on the soul-purging “All I Really Want.” For all the anger and bile ascribed to the singer and record, Jagged Little Pill is incredibly healthy and upbeat. Morissette uses the catchy pop-rock frameworks and moody ambience to suss out situations, to learn, to give hope. There’s the clever yearning of “Hand in My Pocket”; wry contrarianism of “Ironic”; kind-heartedness of “Hand over Feet”; the live-and-let-live spirit of “You Learn” – all positive and amiable.

Throughout Jagged Little Pill, the ever-approachable Morissette connects with listeners who recognize themselves in her — and has an intelligent conversation with anyone who wants to participate. It seemed almost everyone did. In addition to the mammoth sales that make the effort the 17th-best-selling album in American history, Jagged Little Pill collected four Grammy Awards, two American Music Awards, three Billboard Music Awards, and eight Juno Awards. In 2018, the record became the basis for a musical that netted 15 Tony nominations on Broadway.

Ironic? Anything but. Jagged Little Pill transcends generations, gender, and trends. As Morissette sings on the opening “All I Really Want,”, the album represents “deliverance” — “a place to find common ground.”

A decade has passed since Infinity Night graced Bordello A Parigi with his wonderful Winter and Summer EPs. After too long a wait, the French producer returns with the aptly titled Le Temps Qui Passe. Six slices of select synthesizer music make up the 12”, tracks lovingly crafted with Frederic Bergamaschi’s trademark analogue warmth. A melancholic melody meanders through brightness in “Tu Ne Me Réponds Pas”, dulcet words hidden under the machine gauze of a vocoder. Skittish percussion gives way to the refrain of “It’s Full of Stars”. Hazy keys appear as an arpeggiator rumbles below a shimmering sky. “Les Souvenirs De Valerie” picks up where its predecessor left off. Astral notes are beamed into the heavens, echoing into the while crisp cymbals tether the piece. Infinity Night has always sought that point of balance in his music, a bittersweetness he accentuates and explores. This is true in the darker shades of “Nymphomania”. Beats are bolstered, key stabs piercing the tenderness of analogue trills. The title track is a rich patchwork. A burbling undercurrent supports forays into diverse tangents with lyrics surfacing through key shifts and sliding scales. Marching to militaristic rhythms, “I Comme Icare” is the curtain call. The stringent drums are broken by sailing synthlines, vocals masked in a familiar mesh to close. Le Temps Qui Passe, well worth the wait.

VERY LIMITED 2025 REPRESS ON BEAM OF LIGHT VINYL .

Everything changed for The Beths when they released their debut album, Future Me Hates Me, in 2018. The indie rock band had long been nurtured within Auckland, New Zealand’s tight-knit music scene, working full-time during the day and playing music with friends after hours. Full of uptempo pop rock songs with bright, indelible hooks, the LP garnered them critical acclaim from outlets like Pitchfork and Rolling Stone, and they set out for their first string of shows overseas. They quit their jobs, said goodbye to their home town, and devoted themselves entirely to performing across North America and Europe. They found themselves playing to crowds of devoted fans and opening for acts like Pixies and Death Cab for Cutie. Almost instantly, The Beths turned from a passion project into a full-time career in music.

Songwriter and lead vocalist Elizabeth Stokes worked on what would become The Beths’ second LP, Jump Rope Gazers, in between these intense periods of touring. Like the group’s earlier music, the album tackles themes of anxiety and self-doubt with effervescent power pop choruses and rousing backup vocals, zeroing in on the communality and catharsis that can come from sharing stressful situations with some of your best friends. Stokes’s writing on Jump Rope Gazers grapples with the uneasy proposition of leaving everything and everyone you know behind on another continent, chasing your dreams while struggling to stay close with loved ones back home.

"If you're at a certain age, all your friends scatter to the four winds,” Stokes says. “We did the same thing. When you're home, you miss everybody, and when you're away, you miss everybody. We were just missing people all the time.”

With songs like the rambunctious “Dying To Believe” and the tender, shoegazey “Out of Sight,” The Beths reckon with the distance that life necessarily drives between people over time. People who love each other inevitably fail each other. “I’m sorry for the way that I can’t hold conversations/They’re such a fragile thing to try to support the weight of,” Stokes sings on “Dying to Believe.” The best way to repair that failure, in The Beths’ view, is with abundant and unconditional love, no matter how far it has to travel. On “Out of Sight,” she pledges devotion to a dearly missed friend: “If your world collapses/I’ll be down in the rubble/I’d build you another,” she sings.

“It was a rough year in general, and I found myself saying the words, 'wish you were here, wish I was there,’ over and over again,” she says of the time period in which the album was written. Touring far from home, The Beths committed themselves to taking care of each other as they were trying at the same time to take care of friends living thousands of miles away. They encouraged each other to communicate whenever things got hard, and to pay forward acts of kindness whenever they could. That care and attention shines through on Jump Rope Gazers, where the quartet sounds more locked in than ever. Their most emotive and heartfelt work to date, Jump Rope Gazers stares down all the hard parts of living in communion with other people, even at a distance, while celebrating the ferocious joy that makes it all worth it -- a sentiment we need now more than ever.

Rhiza Semar returns with Scarlet Cloak, the second instalment from Dutch-Indonesian producer and label founder Hitam. Emerging from the depths of sonic experimentation, Scarlet Cloak continues Rhiza Semar's mission - blending club-oriented tracks with a left-field approach. With three tracks from Hitam and a remix by Nawaz, the EP offers a subtle nod to early 00's mental tribe, reimagining it with a sleek, contemporary, edge. Pulsing tentatively, Scarlet Cloak opens with delicate drum patterns, paving the way for gritty, heady sonic immersion. Meticulously crafted, faint and distant synths emerge on the horizon, orchestrating an ambience that conjures quiet anticipation - a peaceful wonder drifting through the shadows. Blissfully snaking into the next production, Nawaz remixes the track with a razor-sharp switch in tempo, locking the mental trip. Setting the pace for deep introspection, fast and obscure aquatic layers ripple, submerging the listener into dark, murky textures. Flashes of club lights dissolve into a distorted memory, intangible yet electrifying as Future Kill seizes the mind. Pangs of liquid acid spread through an aphotic tunnel of sound, while percussive elements pump the heart, mirroring the adrenaline rush before stepping into a cavernous rave. In Your Head spins forward, stripped-back minimal layers congregate, spiraling the EP toward a hard climax. Rough-cut textures and skittish vocals lay on a soft bed of snares, creating psychedelic dissonance. The atmosphere thickens and breaks with permeating, rolling kick drums, drawing this 10-minute odyssey to a close. Lose yourself in a sonic labyrinth as Hitam masterfully crafts Scarlet Cloak - a volatile minefield seeping with rude, mental, teeth-gritting energy. credits Words by Charlotte Hingley

[a] A1 竹内まりや*– Brighten Up Your Day!; Arranged By – 山下達郎*; Programmed By [Computer Programming], Drum Programming, Electric Guitar, Acoustic Guitar, Keyboards; Percussion, Backing Vocals – 山下達郎*; Programmed By [Synthesizer] – 橋本茂昭*; Words By, Music By – 竹内まりや*
[b] A2 竹内まりや*– 小さな願い (2024 New Remix); Arranged By – 山下達郎*; Backing Vocals – ハルナ; Drums – 島村英二*; Electric Bass – 伊藤広規*; Piano, Organ – 難波弘之*; Programmed By [Synthesizer] – 橋本茂昭*; Words By, Music By – 竹内まりや*
[c] A3 竹内まりや*– ベイビー・マイン (日本語Ver); Acoustic Guitar – 佐橋佳幸*; Music By – Frank Churchill; Percussion, Backing Vocals – 山下達郎*; Programmed By [Computer] –; Anders Dannvik; Words By – Ned Washington; Words By [訳詞] – 竹内まりや*, 古垣内麻衣
[d] A4 竹内まりや*– 君の居場所 (Have A Good Time Here); Arranged By – 山下達郎*; Bass Trombone – 山城純子*; Concertmaster [Strings] – 今野均*; Piano, Marimba, Soloist – 難波弘之*; Programmed By [Computer Programming], Drum Programming, Electric Guitar, Keyboards, Percussion, Backing Vocals – 山下達郎*; Programmed By [Synthesizer] – 橋本茂昭*; Trombone – 鍵和田道男*, 高橋朋史; Trumpet – 具志堅創*, 二井田ひとみ*; Voice – ピカチュウ*, コダック; Words By, Music By – 竹内まりや*
[e] B1 竹内まりや*– Smiling Days (2024 New Remix); Programmed By [Computer Programming], Drum Programming, Electric Guitar, Acoustic Guitar, Keyboards, Ukulele,; Percussion, Backing Vocals – 山下達郎*; Programmed By [Synthesizer] – 橋本茂昭*; Soprano Saxophone – 宮里陽太*; Words By, Music By – 竹内まりや*
[f] B2 竹内まりや* Duet With 杏里*– Watching Over You; Alto Saxophone – 宮里陽太*; Backing Vocals – Ena*, 三谷泰弘*, ハルナ; Concertmaster [Strings] – 加藤Joe*; Electric Guitar – 山下達郎*; Electric Guitar, Keyboards, Programmed By – 林哲司*; Music By, Arranged By – 林哲司*; Programmed By [Synthesizer] – 橋本茂昭*; Words By – 竹内まりや*
[g] B3 竹内まりや*– 遠いまぼろし; Arranged By – 杉真理*, 小泉信彦*; Backing Vocals – 竹内まりや*, 杉真理*; Cello – 平山織絵*; Classical Guitar [Gut Guitar], Backing Vocals – 渡辺格*; Keyboards, Programmed By – 小泉信彦*; Music By – 杉真理*; Percussion, Backing Vocals – 高橋結子*; Violin – 阿部美緒*; Words By – 竹内まりや*
[h] B4 竹内まりや*– Subject:さようなら; Arranged By – 鈴木俊介*; Backing Vocals – 松浦亜弥*; Electric Sitar, Acoustic Guitar, Programmed By [Computer Programming] – 鈴木俊介*; Words By, Music By – 竹内まりや*
[i] C1 竹内まりや*– 夢の果てまで; Arranged By – 増田武史*; Backing Vocals – 竹内まりや*, 早見沙織*, 山下達郎*; Concertmaster [Strings] – 室屋光一郎*; Programmed By [Compuer Programming], Electric Bass, Electric Guitar, Soloist – 増田武史*; Programmed By [Synthesizer] – 橋本茂昭*; Words By, Music By – 竹内まりや*
[j] C2 竹内まりや*– Tokyo Woman; Arranged By – Box (16); Drums – 島村英二*; Electric Bass, Handclaps, Backing Vocals – 小室和幸*; Electric Guitar, Handclaps – 田上正和*;N Handclaps – 竹内まりや*; Handclaps, Backing Vocals – 松尾清憲*, 杉真理*; Piano, Organ [Hammond] – 小泉信彦*; Tambourine – 飯尾芳史*; Words By, Music By – Box (16)
[k] C3 竹内まりや*– 旅のつづき (2024 New Remix); Arranged By – 牧戸太郎*; Backing Vocals – 竹内まりや*; Concertmaster [Strings] – 室屋光一郎*; Electric Bass – 伊藤広規*; Electric; Guitar, Backing Vocals – 山下達郎*; Programmed By [Synthesizer] – 橋本茂昭*; Tenor Saxophone – 鈴木圭*; Trombone – 半田信英*; Trumpet – 二井田ひとみ*; Words By, Music By – 竹内まりや*
[l] C4 竹内まりや*– Coffee & Chocolate; Arranged By – 山下達郎*; Programmed By [Computer Programming], Drum Programming, Acoustic Guitar, Keyboards, Percussion,; Backing Vocals – 山下達郎*; Programmed By [Synthesizer] – 橋本茂昭*; Words By, Music By – 竹内まりや*
[m] C5 竹内まりや*– Days of Love; Music By, Arranged By – 山下達郎*; Programmed By [Computer Programming], Drum Programming, Electric Guitar, Acoustic Guitar, Ukulele, Percussion – 山下達郎*; Programmed By [Synthesizer] – 橋本茂昭*; Words By – 竹内まりや*
[n] D1 竹内まりや*– 歌を贈ろう; Arranged By – 山下達郎*; Backing Vocals – 生田絵梨花*; Programmed By [Computer Programming], Drum Programming, Electric Guitar, Acoustic; Guitar, Keyboards, Percussion, Backing Vocals – 山下達郎*; Programmed By [Synthesizer] – 橋本茂昭*; Words By, Music By – 竹内まりや*
[o] D2 竹内まりや*– 今を生きよう (Seize The Day) (2024 New Remix); Arranged By – 山下達郎*; Backing Vocals – Ena*, 三谷泰弘*, ハルナ; Drums – 島村英二*; Electric Bass – 伊藤広規*; Piano, Organ [Hammond] – 中西康晴*; Programmed By [Computer Programming], Electric Guitar, Acoustic Guitar, Keyboards, Percussion, Backing Vocals – 山下達郎*
[p] Programmed By [Synthesizer] – 橋本茂昭*; Words By, Music By – 竹内まりや*

[r] D4 竹内まりや*– 今日の想い (2024 New Remix); Acoustic Guitar – 佐橋佳幸*; Arranged By – 牧戸太郎*; Concertmaster [Strings] – 今野均*; Electric Guitar – 山下達郎*; Flute – 高桑英世*; Oboe – 庄司さとし*; Programmed By [Computer Programming], Drum Programming – 牧戸太郎*; Programmed By [Synthesizer] – 橋本茂昭*; Words By, Music By – 竹内まりや*
[s] D5 竹内まりや*– May Each Day; Arranged By – 服部隆之*; Arranged By [Chorus] – Jennifer Lucy Cook; Backing Vocals – Jennifer Lucy Cook; Clarinet – 高子由佳*; Classical Guitar [Gut Guitar] – 石成正人*; Concertmaster [Strings] – 室屋光一郎*; Drums – 山木秀夫*; Electric Bass – 高水健司*; Flute – 下払桐子*, 森川道代*; Harp – 朝川朋之*; Liner Notes [日本語訳] – 丸山京子*; Oboe – 最上峰行*; Piano – 野力奏一*; Words By, Music By – George Wyle, Morton J. Green*

Divine Dances. In plural form.
The fourth album from DjeuhDjoah & Lieutenant Nicholson couldn't have a more explicit title.


Masters of emotions and feelings, the duo has always known how to express melancholy and nostalgia with precision. Yet this time, all their efforts have concentrated on a single goal: taking listeners by the hand—no, by the ear, obviously!—to bring everyone back to the dance floor and explore a variety of atmospheres together.


And naturally, a variety of styles. Funk, ndombolo, electro, hip hop or zouk, each new vibration discovered carries away the previous one to form a dancefloor where all eventually come together.
Divinely light.


The body, surrendered to this call to dance in all its forms, has been so caught up in the whirlwind of groove that the mind has fallen in behind it to continue as one. Words explode into syllables that metamorphose into notes, then perfectly align with those from the score.


One second. A bit of attention. Caught by an irrepressible groove, then comes the moment to slalom through melodies to discover, at the turn of a rhyme, a new meaning. Approached head-on, certain overly serious themes would empty the room and bring the atmosphere down to lead levels. The diagonal approach, humor, and apparent nonchalance of the two men are the best weapons at their disposal. Their Trojan horse to put substance into their form(s). To evoke transidentity, consent, economic malaise as well as the spiritual, or to tell little stories of frustrated loves, seemingly insoluble but which will end well.


Anthony Hilaire for Creole words, Sarah Solo for hip-swiveling soukous, Patrick Bebey for pygmy flute notes, and Grégoire Mahé to bring electricity to DjeuhDjoah & Lieutenant Nicholson's songs; styles blend in a musicality worked into its smallest interstices.


Gathered on this dance floor illuminated with 80s disco brilliance, you observe brassy notes slithering under the electronic veneer, synthesizer keys splashed by furious hip movements. To raise your eyes to connect with the spiritual is to watch the sky become constellated with crystalline Fender Rhodes notes, destined to fall like rain on the heavy bass of afrobeat groove.
Smiles attached to faces, no one should think they can get through the ten tracks of Divine Dances while remaining seated : he's doomed to fail.


OUT MAY 2025 DELUXE WHITE VINYL 180 G /CD / DIGITAL

A cult album by Belgian songwriter and producer Benjamin Schoos, aka Miam Monster Miam, Soleil Noir (2005) celebrates its 20th anniversary with an exclusive vinyl reissue.A haunting album at the crossroads of British folk, cinematic blues, and introspective French chanson. Evoking Nick Drake, Leonard Cohen, Léo Ferré, and Ry Cooder, it unfolds a melancholic poetry elevated by the words of filmmaker Olivier Smolders and lush orchestrations, featuring the Liège Philharmonic Orchestra and the intricate fingerpicking guitar work of Jacques Stotzem.A nocturnal and spellbinding record, where narrative tension and raw emotion intertwine.

3volution in the recent past, Divide is like a bridge between old generations and new ones. Its sounds range from Sci-Fi techno to 90's techno, characterized by minimal sequences, heavy drum patterns, and an accurate sound design.
Third and last chapter for the VA vinyl trilogy on R3volution Records called

This edition includes exclusive tracks by the following artists:

- UVALL, from Tbilisi, Georgia. Born there and at the age of 23, he is no longer at the beginning of his musical journey and the refinement of his taste and style. Always on the cutting edge, he has been impressing with productions and releases on labels such as Semantica, WSNWG with Rohad, Float Records, Hayes, MALoR, and many many more. Already well known in our roster thanks to a previous collaboration for a remix, the talented young music producer delivers deep, muscular rhythms in his portfolio and translates this energy into a raw, dancefloor oriented session.

- Operator, there is no need to spend many words to describe one of the most talented and innovative British artists on the scene for a long time, recently appearing on

- Divide co-owner of EvodMusic and South Berlin Studio, with recent appearances on all the top labels on the planet (WarmUp, Semantica, MindTrip, Tremsix, Hayes, to name a few), and several collaborations and remixes for

- PTTRNRCRRNT aka Dave Brody from Antwerpen - Belgium. Characterized by efficiently percussion tunnelling through juggled textures, PTTRNRCRRNT's technical know-how and conceptual intentions can be masked by the efficiency and singularity of his music. Taking techno's tendency to constantly reinvent itself as a priority and researches between experimentalism and futurism. He is one of the artists with the most collaborations within our roster (some of his remixes are memorable), he alternates his productions on our label with frequent appearances on highly referenced labels in the scene, such as Soma, Materia and Devotion among others.

10 years ago, the Southern Rock Americana album 'Catawba River Fox' was released independently and in a small edition, with 9 songs written by Pablo van de Poel and recorded analogue in 9 days, with the collaboration of, in addition to his DeWolff mates Robin Piso and Luka van de Also pool Mischa Porte, Joep Bollinger and Stefan Wolfs. It was the first time that Pablo recorded and mixed an album himself, and in his own words “you could hear that”. To mark the 10th anniversary of this album, we are now releasing a remastered version.

WOW. Daniel O'Sullivan's transcendent new album, Eros, is one of the greatest things we've ever heard. A simply stunning song cycle of hypnotic, experimental contemporary chamber music composed for a 14-piece ensemble. Combining minimalism, complex syncopation, detailed acoustic textures, weird intervals and samurai precision, this record will elegantly blow your mind. When Daniel first sent us this, he pitched it as “Liquid Swords meets Michael Nyman”. Trust us, he wasn't wrong. A "unique hybrid orchestral music", it presents a confluence of Daniel's longstanding fixations; indeed, there's elements of Nyman, Antonio Carlos Jobim, Magma, Aaron Copland and RZA. But this is wholly O'Sullivan's. Originally commissioned for the Sonoton Music Library in Munich, Eros now receives a deluxe vinyl release courtesy of Be With Records, bringing this meticulously crafted work to a wider audience. Limited to just 500 copies for the world, these are gonna fly.

An English composer and multi-instrumentalist, Daniel O'Sullivan’s career has been marked by versatility and innovation. In addition to his work with Sonoton, he has composed extensively for the legendary KPM music library, contributing to its storied legacy of production music. As a deep virtuoso and collaborator, O'Sullivan has also played in a number of influential projects, including Ulver, Sunn O))), This Is Not This Heat, Grumbling Fur and Miracle (with Steve Moore), leaving an indelible mark on the contemporary experimental music landscape.

O’Sullivan’s first foray into classically informed chamber music, Eros is a culmination of his long-standing fixations and expansive musical influences. The album features arrangements that are as detailed as they are emotionally resonant, showcasing his unparalleled ear for intervals and mastery of counterpoint. The music brims with complex rhythmic syncopation and a sensitivity to texture and space, resulting in a soundscape that is both intoxicating and dauntingly precise.

Recorded June 2023 and February 2024, in Brussels, London and Carmarthenshire, Wales, Eros features members of Echo Collective (Neil Leiter and Margaret Hermant), Thighpaulsandra (from seminal post-industrial band Coil), and jazz pioneer Oren Marshall. Daniel's sonic weapons of choice, in his own inimitable words, were "Big Bad Drum, Pee Anne Oh, Low End Brass, Willowy Winds & Samurai Strings." You get the picture. As a cyclical suite, this is a record that really needs to be heard in its entitreity, from start to finish, to truly appreciate the genius at work here.

A jaw-dropping statement of intent, the minimalist "Golden Verses" sets the tone with its complex cue which has your neck snapping right when it feels like it needs to. Listen and you'll understand. A syncopated tangle of sharp strings, crunchy bass, drums percussion and bright piano and mallets vie for position with French horn and woodwind melody in the most compelling and unexpected ways. Quite simply, it's one of the finest album openers I've ever heard. It's followed by the atmospheric rippling minimalism of "Lyre Lyre", a gorgeous gem with shimmering chimes, bright melody, human percussion and syncopated pizzicato strings. It kinda comes on like a less-abstract Boards Of Canada, bursting with typical wonderment. The piano and string-drenched "Dolorous Stroke" effortlessly builds its warm, pastoral orchestration with flowing piano arpeggio, steadfast drums, expressive string quartet, rich low brass, woodwind and lyrical flute. Just sublime.

The insistent frenetic propulsion of "Plain Paper" is utterly beguiling, featuring a determined string motif, urgent drums and percussion, driving low brass and breathless, energetic flute. The haunting, interweaving string arpeggios that propel "Grapes Draped" presents a claustrophobic minimalism for chaos and darkness, with growling low woodwind and brass, spiky harpsichord, skittering flutes and tight drums. Up next, "Xanix Annum" is a stately minimalist waltz with expressive lyrical string quartet and delicate woodwind, anchored by drums and percussion. "Painting Rose" is a bouncy stop-start track with angular syncopated strings and a piano pulse underneath bright harpsichord and flutes. "Rotunda Garden" presents ethereal textural minimalism for landscapes and reflection with flowing string arpeggios, warm, low woodwind drones, floating choir and cymbal swells. Closing out this extraordinary side of music, the glowing, flowing minimalism of "Flowry Orb" features urgent organ, piano and woodwind arpeggios, half-time drums with shimmering cymbals, a soaring, beautiful violin solo and hypnotic vocal chant.

Side 2 opens with "Theia Mania" a determinedly off-kilter, angular track featuring low wind, brass and drum stomp in dialogue with lively string trio, woodwind and solo horn. The light, airy minimalism of "Painting Percy" is built around an interplay of rhythmic motifs for piano, low brass, bassoon, fluttering flutes, urgent strings, drums and percussion whilst "For Archetypes" is a delicate, gently syncopated chamber cue for nostalgia, nature, reflection and moments of calm, with steady piano motif, intimate woodwind and French horn, and warm, graceful strings. The urgent Ars Memoriae is a propulsive march for progress, processes and industry, underpinned by driving tuba, with determined strings, resolute drums, and vivid, expressive flute, clarinet and French horn.

The syncopated energetic minimalism of "Mirrored Seven" presents layers of melodic and cyclical piano, drums, low brass, harp, flute and strings. "Pure Ornament" follows, a slowly evolving chamber cue with flowing clarinet, string and harp arpeggio, plodding tuba and percussion, fluttering flute and graceful, lyrical solos. Stunning! Up next, "Brave Boy" moves from its tender, warm, lullaby-like intro with lyrical flute, clarinet and strings before opening into a playful backend driven by a bouncy tuba riff and syncopated piano, woodwind, string trio, and drums and percussion. Rounding out this astonishing piece, "Waxen Waned" is a warm, pastoral chamber cue with light lyrical woodwind, tender French horn and subtly pulsing string trio.

The album's title is a reference to Plato’s conception of Eros, which is more than romantic or physical desire. It is a dynamic and creative force that drives individuals to seek perfection whether in art, relationships, philosophy or the pursuit of truth. Wholly appropriate, here, we think. When asked what his influences were in making this astounding record, he answered thusly: "Non-musical: Householding, Pythagoras, Goethe, Grail romances, Hermeticism, Doctrine of Signatures (Parcelsus, Bohme, Pliny), Eric Rohmer, John Stezaker, Yasujiro Ozu. Musical: Duke Ellington (late suites), Smile-era Brian, early RZA, Wagner (Parsifal Overture), Magma, Mancini, Axelrod, YMO, Hildegard, Nyman, Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Jobim (Stone Flower), Alessandro Alessandroni, Tavener, Moondog, Orthodox Music, Secular Music." That's some pretty deep shit. Makes you want to dive in, no?

Mastering for this vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis, and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at Abbey Road Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry. Truly, Eros is a work of extraordinary depth and sophistication. It invites listeners to immerse themselves in its intricate layers, to lose themselves in its hypnotic rhythms, and to marvel at the precision of its execution. With this release, O’Sullivan reaffirms his position as one of the most inventive and uncompromising voices in contemporary music. Do. Not. Sleep.

Album "My Life - Preisner's Music is a live recording from a concert held in November 2024 in Bielsko-Bia?a, marking the occasion of Zbigniew Preisner receiving Honorary Citizenship of his hometown, Bielsko-Bia?a.
This year, on May 20th, Zbigniew Preisner will celebrate his 70th birthday, and the album is a his gift he made to himself.

The album includes 17 iconic themes composed by Zbigniew Preisner among others from Three Colours, Decalogue, The Secret garden, The double life of Veronique, Damage, When a man loves a woman, Eminent Domain, Aberdeen, Mouvements du desir, Lost and Love, but also Lacrimosa from Requiem for my Friend in the interpretation of Dominik Wania.

Few words from Zbigniew Preisner:
"For years, I've been thinking about reducing my orchestral themes to a single instrument. As a composer, I pay special attention to melody-each of my compositions always has melodic themes.
Ten years ago, I met Dominik Wania, now a jazz star and a brilliant pianist who records albums for ECM. I knew he was the perfect person to bring my idea to life.
The concert you are about to listen to is the result of our collaboration, which has given me great satisfaction. Dominik Wania's interpretation went beyond my wildest expectations. I hope you will enjoy the album."

Reviews of the album:

"When I teach the films of Krzysztof Kieslowski at Columbia University, I always mention that Zbigniew Preisner is one of the world's greatest film composers. He has many fans among my students. And now there is a new album, a haunting distillation of his movie scores into solo piano performances. It demonstrates how he is the master composer of the tritone, trill and tremolo. Listening to his compositions in their own terms - separate from the cinema screen - foregrounds his distinctive and often plaintive melodies.
Because orchestration, lyrics and narrative function are absent, the listener can focus on the richness of the "standalone" music, beautifully performed by Dominik Wania. For example, the memorable score from Kieslowski's "Double Life of Veronique" now feels more ominous than lyrical. From "Mouvements du desir," the tinkling piano sounds grow into cascading notes that envelop the listener. Whether classical (as in "When a Man Loves a Woman" and "The Waltz from The Funeral") or jazz ("The Secret Garden"), the music reigns when there is no movie screen to distract us. This is equally true of the minor-key gems like "Dekalog" and the briskly upbeat "Transient from Twilight" (which invokes for me the joy of Jon Baptiste's compositions).
In addition to Preisner's scores, the mournful "Lacrimosa" is stripped down from a public performance - which included a choir - to a more personal evocation of grief via solo piano. Finally, listening to "Lost and Love" suggests that if Frederic Chopin and Keith Jarrett had an heir together, it would be Zbigniew Preisner".
Annette Insdorf, Film Professor Columbia University

1000 copies pressed on Black vinyl & DL card. First time on vinyl for 10 years .The poems of iconic 19th century American writer Emily Dickinson crafted into the esoteric sounds of Josephine Foster. Originally released in 2009, this highly collectable record is now back on vinyl for the first time in over a decade.

Classic RootsReggae is the definitive influence on the music of Vibronics .. so it has been a true labour of love to bring together the powerful voice of Jospeh Lalibela, the intricate playing of the Mafia & Fluxy Band and the deep production skills of Vibronics to make this homage to classic Jamaican Roots Dub Reggae music.
The LP is a fine body of work with full production featuring live bass, drums, horns, guitars & flutes as well as up to the minute studio trickery to produce an album that is rooted in reggae history but sounds relevant right now.
5 vocals and 5 dubs - this album is original showcase style !
Vibronics is one of the most established names in UK Dub/Reggae music achieving millions of views on YouTube, millions of Spotify streams and many tens of thousands of vinyl record sales. Collaborators include Michael prophet, Macka B, Iration Steppas, Soom T, Aba-Shanti and more.
Joseph Lalibela is a Birmingham born UK vocalist who found fame through his work with OBF & King Earthquake
Mafia & Fluxy are the UK’s leading Reggae riddim section and recording artists working with Eek-A-Mouse, Jah Shaka, Luciano and the cream of worldwide Reggae artists.

Zuul supplies pressure control’s debut release, Routine Machine.

Following releases on Exarde and White Scar, the Laik label-head’s signature sound takes a menacing turn. In a departure from his usual output he delivers a grizzly 5 tracker filled with EBM, New Beat and Wave affined floor-fillers; all fraught with tension, straight out of the Kirkstall strip.

Fitting for peak-time, warm-ups and rub-downs, the EP is filled with snarling, left-of-centre bombs. All reminiscent of the golden-era sound forged in Frankfurt and Ghent circa 88-91, with new-school stylings for the modern day working disk-jockey.

Constructed exclusively for dark and discerning dance floors.

You can run, but you can’t hide.

Credits:
All music by Ollie Burgess
Pressing and distribution by by One Eye Witness
Design by Al Robertson
Mastering by Marco Pellegrino
Words by Josh Bayat

* includes download

One of clubland’s most unmistakable and loved duos, Steffi & Virginia present a new album of upfront house music, Patterns of Vibration.

Eight gracefully-driven songs stretch out from the hazy fog of the dancefloor to the sun-drenched future decades of house, offering a glimpse into the rich heritage and distinct forward momentum of the two artists.

With their first productions dating back to 2010 the pair continue on a long-lasting journey together as creators and partners. Their debut, Reasons, was quickly followed by the seminal Yours on Ostgut Ton - the blueprint for their trademark sound, embedding gorgeous vocal hooks within luxuriant, weighty club tracks.

In their own words, “a celebration of joyful moments,” Patterns of Vibration was put together over a three month period of intensive work and play. The pair immersed themselves in the daily ritual of putting down ideas at their Candy Mountain studio in the Portuguese countryside. At the same time Steffi’s 50th birthday celebrations fueled their creative fires, reconnecting with old friends and tapping into a deep love for those ecstatic moments of freedom and unity, soundtracked by house music.

In no time a huge folder of ideas amassed and they set about selecting the purest, stand-out signals with the motto, “let the positivity shine through!” It’s been a process that has gifted the two artists with energy and perspective as they continue on their unique path.

With the spirit of the fierce night streaming through on every track, this album marks a bright new chapter in the duo’s story - channeling that special potion of emotional vibrations found when music, dance, friends and lovers meet.

Thanks to countless hours behind the decks at their Berghain / Panorama Bar residencies and global touring, the album glistens with an ageless urgency and a straight-to-club core. That driving, early morning pulse is mirrored by a deft skill for conjuring arresting electronic hymns; transmitting their passion and collective years together on the road, in clubs, in the studio, and at home.

From the moody tribalism of lead single Nightflight, to the chord-led heaven of Stab Stealer, or the tracky 7 In The Morning, Steffi & Virginia’s partnership is alive with the essential throb of a movement that continues to blossom as it enters its 4th decade.

Virginia’s jubilant vocal hooks are front and centre on every track, enriched with Steffi’s precision analogue bump. Punchy and direct kick drums carry jacking snares and interwoven synth stabs. Perfectly placed basslines massage the low-end, leaving plenty of space for Virginia’s vivescent vocals.

A homogenous sonic code is woven throughout, as Virginia’s voice provides not only the soaring leading lines but also the “ornaments and tentacles” of each track, with percussive details and micro-elements melting into the grooves of every cut.

Steffi & Virginia’s house music is the stuff of folklore. Patterns of Vibration weaves a narrative through a record crate full of emotions, a forever-chorus calling out through the night, till the earthy glow of the new dawn.

The Ibex Band, with Giovanni Rico and Selam Woldemariam at the creative helm, provided the musical backbone for legends like Aster Aweke, Girma Beyene, Tilahun Gessesse, Mulatu Astatke, and Mahmoud Ahmed, including the iconic album Ere Mela Mela, shaping modern Ethiopian music as we know it today. This 1976 album (Ge’ez Year 1968) played a pivotal role in that legacy and has now resurfaced to set the record straight.

There’s a tendency to talk about the seventies as a golden age of Ethiopian music. There are good reasons for that, and just as good reasons against it. However, the notion of a golden past privileges the role of Western explorers and suggests that the pinnacle of Ethiopia’s musical culture is something only a foreigner can appreciate and unearth. It downplays the complexities of Ethiopia’s culture and history, creating an artificial divide between then and now. And it underestimates the constantly evolving sound that has followed.

The legendary musical outfit The Ibex Band, later metamorphosed into The Roha Band, has played a central role in defining the sound of many of the greatest stars on the music scene of Ethiopia from the mid-seventies onwards–but their golden output has never really waned. The story of the origins of the band that provided the musical backbone for greats such as Aster Aweke, Girma Beyene, Tilahun Gessesse, backing the solo career of group member Mahmoud Ahmed as well as backing Mulatu Astatke and many others has yet to be properly told.

Two misconceptions plague the image of Ethiopian music, one is that the music is pure because it is, by some notion, unexploited, the other is that it is all traditional. To begin with, a combination of political changes between the late sixties and the mid-nineties created an environment where only the most dedicated and skilled musicians struggled on and pursued a musical career against fierce odds. The whole Ibex Band, with Giovanni Rico and Selam “Selamino” Seyoum Woldermarian at the creative helm, are arguably the origo of the vibrant scene in the mid-seventies, and the said pair are foremost responsible for not only navigating the band through troubled times, but also modernizing the 6/8 chickchicka rhythm to a contemporary form. Giovanni laid the rhythmic foundation with heavy looped basslines that reinvented traditional melodies as dance music, and with Selamino’s innovative guitar work they influenced scores of musicians from Abegaz Kibrework Shiota to Henock Temesgen. Even Giovanni’s Fender bass and Selamino’s Gibson guitar inspired younger musicians in their choice of instruments. Not only in choice of instruments but also in sound–even as the digital revolution hit Ethiopian music, a lot of popular music still took its cue from the masters from Ibex and Roha.

Ibex emerged out of the ashes of the sixties group the Soul Echos band, adding Giovanni and Selamino to their ranks and taking their cues from a slew of influences, such as Motown and The Beatles, fused with traditional music. A tighter-knit unit than most bands at the time – Ibex has remained six to seven members throughout their whole career, compared to many bands that were as large as fifteen or sixteen men strong when Ibex set out. Their playing has been viciously focused, economical yet heavy. Just a year before the recording sessions of the album in your hands, Giovanni and Selamino made a contribution to the popular musical lexicon of Ethiopia that was simply defining the popular sound: their arrangement and recording of bandmate Mahmoud Ahmed’s solo effort and real commercial breakthrough tune and eponymous album, Ere Mela Mela, from 1975.

Selamino has never limited himself to being an adroit lead guitarist, but has always been a scholar of history, and as such he has probably contributed as much to modern Ethiopian music with his guitar playing and compositions as with a deepened understanding of modern or contemporary – Zemenawi – Ethiopian music. Selamino’s contributions serve as a metaphor for those of the whole band, at one and the same time creating and defining a new, danceable and updated sound anchored in Giovanni’s bass, whilst also elevating the broader scene through their support for others on the scene and on top of that, increasing the understanding of the music.

There is an understandable desire to romanticize the musical heyday Ibex and Roha were at the forefront of, because so much of the output is sorrowfully hard to come by. Ibex creativity was nothing short of ridiculously fierce compared to many of their Western contemporaries. Based on their sheer recorded output alone they could have usurped the title “hardest working in show business” from James Brown, recording more than 250 albums or 2500 songs in the seventies and eighties. Some only surface as cassettes today, others were never given full LP release, and some are simply impossible to find today. In the light of that, it’s nothing short of a miracle that the recording Stereo Instrumental Music from 1976 (Ge’ez Year 1968) has resurfaced. Unearthed in perfect condition on a chrome cassette, this is musical history comes alive–to set the future straight. Stereo Instrumental Music was recorded in collaboration with Karl-Gustav Lundgren, a Swedish national working for the Radio Voice of the Gospel. It took two sessions at the Ras Hotel ballroom in Addis Ababa. The Ibex Band was the first band in Ethiopia to employ a four-track recorder for their recording (the first available in the country, lent by Karl-Gustav). Later the same week, Giovanni and Selamino realized that, lengthwise, the recorded material fell short of what they wished for, so they recorded four more tracks in one more session on a single-track recorder. The Ras Hotel and Ghion Hotel, where the Ibex Band held musical residencies were to Ethiopia in general and Addis Ababa in particular what Motown was to the USA and Detroit a few years earlier – a hotbed of musical creativity and showmanship.

The most astonishing thing about Ethiopian music of the last half century is how tradition and modernity are intertwined. Because of this feature, it’s kind of hard to tell when there ever was or when we are in a “golden age”. So much of music from the past has been criminally neglected, but because of the hardships in the past, it would be an oversimplification to say that said past was a golden age. Probably, the golden age is what we are approaching, because for the first time both the past and future are accessible, and the monumental contributions from before can lay a firm foundation for a thriving music scene today. The Ibex Band stands firmly in the past, present and the future. That, if anything, is golden.

The detailed history of Stereo Instrumental Music is in many ways unique. To begin with, it couldn’t have been recorded earlier (there were no four-track recorders available) and it really couldn’t have been recorded afterwards either, at least not in the years directly following, because of the toll the musical scene took from the unfavorable political climate that followed when the nascent Derg regime and rival groups tried to assert themselves, the musical equipment lent from The Voice of Gospel Radio simply disappeared from Ethiopia when the radio station folded in 1977. Karl-Gustav Lundgren,
the Swedish foreign national who assisted during the recording, worked with the Ethiopian Evangelical Church Mekane Yesus at the time, recalls how they only had about fifteen minutes to get the microphones in place for the recording as to not alert neither the management at Ras Hotel nor the authorities and most importantly, to complete the recording before the curfew came into effect at midnight. In leaping to the opportunity to use previously unavailable equipment to push their sound forward and improvising to meet the logistical challenges, the Ibex Band displayed the very avant-gardism and adaptability that explains their longevity as a band through the years. The recording of Stereo Instrumental Music is from a given time in history, but it sounds as beyond time.
Much of the energy that burst out of the scene that Stereo Instrumental Music came out of dissipated or got sidetracked during the societal changes Ethiopia went through in the 1970s and 80s. Whilst leaders might have professed to be revolutionary, the work ethic of the Ibex Band can truly be described as that. They never called it quits, but adapted, toured extensively abroad in Africa, Europe, and the Middle East, and found ways to work even in the face of the curfew that curtailed a lot of musical life. They even played major arenas in the nineteen eighties, despite said curfew and restrictions. The whole extent of their legacy has never been told, but their music speaks louder than words, so therefore… tune in to the Ibex Band’s Stereo Instrumental Music.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

A sprawling patchwork of the artist’s dreams and fears, Parannoul’s third album After the Magic explores the enigmatic solo artist’s life in the wake of his second album’s overnight success.

Expanding on the shoegaze-shaded emo that made Parannoul’s To See the Next Part of the Dream so beloved by lo-fi and indie rock fans alike, After the Magic sees the anonymous auteur striving to write a follow-up as worthy of acclaim as the last.

Across the album’s ten songs, Parannoul plunges yet deeper into his diverse pool of influences, coming back to the surface with a record that captures and extends the magic of its predecessor. Unexpected flashes of orchestral ambient and glitched-out electronica meld seamlessly with Parannoul’s signature passages of noisy, distortion-laden shoegaze, offering a real time glimpse into the maturation of one of indie rock’s most exciting artists.

In the artist’s own words, “This album is not what you expected, but what I always wanted.”

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

compiled by tsunaki kadowaki
artwork by yoshirotten
mastering by kuniyuki takahashi

Tsunaki Kadowaki, a staff member at Kyoto’s record store Meditations, the supervisor of "New Age Music Disc Guide", and the founder of Sad Disco, curates the fourth installment of "Midnight in Tokyo" themed around Ambient Kayō.

The Midnight in Tokyo series by Studio Mule focuses on Japanese music, serving as a soundtrack for Tokyo nights—whether for home listening, club play, or as a driving BGM, transcending location and space. After a six-year hiatus, the fourth volume takes "Ambient Kayō" as its new perspective, compiling genre-defying tracks released between 1977 and 1999 to explore the intersection of Japanese ambient and pop music.

For this long-awaited fourth installment, selections were made regardless of record label status (major or independent), era, format (vinyl or CD), original release price, or prior reissues. Instead, the focus was on music that deeply moves the listener, is open-minded and evocative, brims with inspiration and spiritual insight, and embodies the "utagokoro" (singing heart) of Japanese artists.

Opening the compilation is "Umi e Kinasai" by Yōsui Inoue, a legendary Japanese singer-songwriter whose works have recently gained renewed interest as hidden gems of Walearic and ambient pop

Composed and arranged by Katsu Hoshi—who is also known for his arrangements on Inoue’s masterpiece Ice World—the track features renowned players such as Masayoshi Takanaka, Hiroki Inui, and Shigeru Inoue. The song embodies a yearning for Balearic horizons, tinged with youthful vibrancy and sentimentality.

Next, "Oritatamu Umi", compiled from Keiko Nosaka, a 20-string koto player, and George Murasaki, a pioneer of Okinawan rock, is an instrumental track from their album "Niraikanai Requiem 1945". As the title suggests, it carries themes of requiem and remembrance, conveying poetic lyricism even without words. Blending Ryukyuan/Okinawan harmonies and indigenous elements, it unfolds as an intimate and nostalgic piece of progressive rock.

Also featured is "Natsu no Kowareru Koro" by Higurashi, a folk-rock band led by Seiichi Takeda, formerly a guitarist of The Remainders of The Clover, the predecessor of RC Succession. Like the opening track "Umi e Kinasai", this song was also produced by Katsu Hoshi. It stands as a folk/new music piece that takes a step into an "otherworldly" realm, recommended for fans of Twin Cosmos and Masumi Hara.

From the enigmatic Blue, the only work left by the mysterious composer S.R. Kinoshita, comes "Mangrove", a hidden treasure of Japan's ambient/new age scene from the CD era. With an oriental and enigmatic atmosphere, the track evokes a mystical world of deep, uncharted jungles, unfolding as an otherworldly New Age Kayō.

"Yaponesia Sakura", selected from Rehabilual’s sole album New Child, is a masterpiece of Japanese new age music. Produced by Swami Dhyan Akamo, a disciple of Indian meditation teacher Osho and a renowned balafon player, the track features Michio Ogawa (Chakra) and Atsuo Fujimoto (Colored Music). Their collective artistry creates an exquisite spiritual ambient pop sound.

"Asa no Hitoshizuku", the opening folk song from Sachiko Kanenobu’s album Sachiko, is also included. Known for her legendary folk album Misora, produced by Haruomi Hosono, Kanenobu’s fourth album after resuming her career was inspired by her experiences living in San Francisco and revolves around the theme of "love." This track carries the same intimate poetic world as Misora, imbued with a pure, crystalline innocence.

From the synth-pop band E.S. Island, known for the Haruomi Hosono-produced *Teku Teku Mami", comes "Yume Fūrin ", selected from their long-lost new age classic Nanpū from Hachijo. Created while the band’s core duo was living in Hachijō Island, the album aimed to sonically capture "the high and happy vibrations of everyday island life." This track offers a dynamic, tribal-infused New Age Kayō experience.

Dubbed "the world's first Min’yō House Mix" "Esashi Oiwake (Maeuta) " comes from Kanazawa Akiko HOUSE MIX Ⅰ, a collaboration between Japanese house music pioneer Soichi Terada and Akiko Kanazawa, a renowned min’yō singer. Through the prism of club music, Hokkaido's Esashi Oiwake, one of Japan’s most iconic folk songs, is transformed into a futuristic ambient pop piece with intricate sound design.

The compilation also includes "Sweet Ong Choh", a track from Voice From Asia, a group active between 1989 and 1992 featuring vocal artist Shizuru Ohtaka. Taken from their imaginative minimal work Voice From Asia, released under Aoyama Spiral’s music label Newsic, the song presents a tranquil, tribal-minimal soundscape enriched by ethnic instruments.

Hailed by Haruomi Hosono as having “a shaman residing in her voice,” singer-songwriter Nami Hōdatsu also appears in the selection. Known for her collaborations with Henry Kawahara, her debut album featured "Asa-Hikari-Ame-Yume", a track that now stands as a precursor to modern vocaloid/synthesized vocal music—a hidden gem of post-choir aesthetics that deserves rediscovery.

Likewise, "Tennessee Waltz", from Naomi Akimoto’s album One Night Stand, supported by members of Mariah, serves as another early prototype of vocaloid/synthesized vocal music. The track weaves fragmented vocal samples, pastoral yet sweetly minimal synth sounds, and mechanical beats into a strikingly unconventional piece in the history of Japanese music.

Closing the compilation is "Heaven Electric", a track from Nav Katze’s album Gentle & Elegance, which featured remixes by Autechre, Seefeel, and Sun Electric. Merging elements of IDM, ambient techno, and chillout, the song embodies an optimism reminiscent of space music while seamlessly blending a mystical Japanese aesthetic—an ambient pop masterpiece.

---

The album presents 12 exquisite pop tracks infused with an ambient feeling, resonating deeply with the evolving landscape of the mid-2020s—a time of post-hyperpop and Y2K revival.

Tsunaki Kadowaki (Compiler)

Born in 1993 in Yonago, Tottori, Tsunaki Kadowaki is a staff member and buyer at Kyoto’s Meditations record store. He is the editor of New Age Music Disc Guide (DU BOOKS) and a contributor to Music Magazine, Record Collectors' Magazine, ele-king, and more. Kadowaki has written liner notes for multiple Japanese releases (Brian Eno, Masahiro Sugaya etc.) and runs the Sad Disco music label under Disk Union. He also curates Spotify’s official New Age Music playlist and performed as a DJ at YCAM’s Audio Base Camp #3 in 2024.

Limited vinyl release for aya's 2021 Hyperdub-debut album, a one-time pressing on Ecomix random colour-mix recycled vinyl. Originally released in 2021 as a book and digital album, im hole is now presented on ecomix splatter-effect vinyl. A welcome reminder ahead of new aya music in 2025. On im hole, aya distilled the incisive sonic experimentation of her early run of releases, the tongue-in-cheek giggles of her DJ sets and edits, and the identity-fluxing lyricism of her live shows. The album was immediately championed from all corners, 'Best New Music' in Pitchfork to DJ Mary Anne Hobbs Album of the Year, followed by incredible live shows which drew new listeners further into the net. Contorting language, dialect, gender and sexuality between intermittently controlled bursts of rhythm, noise and aural goop, aya sculpted a set of autobiographical vignettes that challenge established norms, question supposed truths, and affirm a spectrum of interlocking experiences. But while it's wide open and personal, im hole also challenges queer art's tendency to veer towards repetitive solipsism. Even the title itself references the unwieldy mix of self-actualization and sexualization that bogs down cultural perceptions of the trans experience. It's neither one thing nor t'other, just as much a sly nod to dissociative afterparty sloppiness as it is any self-congratulatory pinkwashed grandstanding. The music follows suit, fragmenting familiar sounds, twinned with familiar words, assembled in unfamiliar ways, full of sharp humour, even in the middle of despair. Stories are muddled with phonetics just as dubstep is macrodosed with microtonal drone.










j B4. If [redacted] Thinks He's Having This As A Remix He Can Frankly Do One