VUO14 delivers a journey through spacey deep techno moods, guided by Kirill Matveev. Side A features two tracks seamlessly blended into one continuous flow, inviting you to either focus on each part individually or let the narrative unfold as a whole.
On the flipside, Rasmus Hedlund takes the listener further into the night, raising the tension with a hypnotic dub excursion. Closing the record, Tm Shuffle reshapes the atmosphere into a bass-heavy, reverberated and house-tinged version - best experienced in front of a powerful sound system.
A versatile record for deep techno selectors and sonic explorers alike.
Corps Perdu emerges from Lamin Fofana’s ongoing practice of creating immersive and multisensory sound environments, informed and inspired by the historically rich texts of scholars and poets working in the tradition of Black Studies. The words of W.E.B. Du Bois, Sylvia Wynter, Dionne Brand, Fred Moten, Édouard Glissant, Suzanne Césaire and Aimé Césaire are transmuted and circulated as sound, offered to listeners through radio, live events, albums and installations. Fofana honours his sources with an audible historical awareness, yet his sounds always simultaneously open out into the turbulent uncertainties of the present.
The music we hear on the album Corps Perdu was previewed within a series of collective reading and listening sessions carried out in Paris, Barcelona, Tunis and New York City, where voices from the audience read aloud fragments from a body of texts Fofana had selected. The spontaneous unfolding of close reading and listening, mixed live by Fofana in these collective listening experiences, speaks to the open-ended quality of Corps Perdu. The album, now published, is but one iteration of this ongoing inquiry into the relationship between sound and text.
Corps Perdu presents an introspective journey with no return, and as such is full of omens of all kinds. Across ten tracks Lamin Fofana creates a sibling or companion to the transformation he initiated in his previous album Works in Metal, building a narrative that takes us into Krakatoa prior to its eruption, and lets us listen to Césaire’s ‘flying seed dreaming very loudly’. The album’s track titles and narrative arc hum in and out and alongside Césaire’s poetry, mainly Césaire’s 1950 collection Corps Perdu, in which the ten poems are accompanied by engravings by Picasso merging fragments of bodies and plants—a collaboration that emerged from their first encounter two years earlier, at the Communist-led World Congress of Intellectuals for Peace, in Wroclaw, Poland.
The music on Corps Perdu labours intuitive hand-held melodies through dense processing. There are many rhythms throughout, though these never surrender to the density of the dancefloor grooves we’ve heard Fofana craft on previous albums (think of the ‘Obscure Light’ pair from Works in Metal for example). Instead, Fofana gently releases the clenched hands Césaire’s Corps Perdu begins with: ‘Among me, from myself, to myself, outside any constellation, clenched in my hands only, the rare hiccup of an ultimate raving spasm, keep vibrating word’. The album carries through sound the scattering and liquid fragmentation that shape the desperate metamorphosis of a ‘lost body’.
Sarah de Scisciolo, known as the Brutalist Poet, presents a new project born from her collabora%on with
Alex Neri, long%me member of Planet Funk and a leading figure in the Italian electronic music scene.
Produced by Alex Neri and released on vinyl, the single emerges from the encounter between Sarah’s
poetry and performa%ve dimension and Neri’s electronic research. The project blends spoken word, vocals
and electronic music, transforming words into sound and crea%ng an original dialogue between
performance and club culture.
This collabora%on brings Sarah de Scisciolo’s poe%c language into the world of electronic music and vinyl,
shaping a release conceived for both audiences and professionals within the contemporary music scene.
PRODUCED BY ALEX NERI AND MANNIE FOR TENAX RECORDINGS
With his last three records all landing within a calendar year (2024-25), enigmatic Swedish producer Civilistjävel! (aka Tomas Bodén) is on a hot streak of releases, his singular vision increasingly ambitious and expansive. There are few artists working at this level so consistently right now, reinventing, revising and continually developing their language. Following on from 2025’s radically re-worked ‘Versions’ (of Mayssa Jallad’s ‘Marjaa…’), Bodén returns to break further fresh ground with his new album, ‘Älvgång’. Featuring contributions from Soccer Committee, Carrier and guest (aka Jabu’s Jasmine Butt), ‘Älvgång’ foregrounds a more brittle and insistent rhythm-based sound, whilst comprising his most broad-ranging collection of material to date.
‘Älvgång’ grew out of a series of sketches made from late ‘24 and throughout the whole of ‘25 at Stockholm’s renowned EMS Studios, which gave Boden free rein to its extensive collection of vintage analogue equipment and rare modular synthesizers such as the Serge and Buchla systems. As a loose framework of tracks began to take shape, so did a reflection of sorts, on family and foundations, underpinned or influenced by sounds that drifted into Tomas consciousness around this time - ancient Swedish pastoral music, Georgian lithurgical chants, gongs, chimes. An idea settled into place, a dedication to his Grandfather, as the earlier release Fyra Platser (tr. ‘Four Places’) was to his Grandmother. Älvgång is grounded with the sense of time and place of an old family photograph, with the tracks over each side bearing one of two names that are more or less the same location - Strinne was the old name for a this loose collection of villages. These days it is more commonly known as Bjärtrå. Metaphorically speaking, the river runs through both.
Civilistjävel! conjures so many adjectives and descriptors, ‘glacial’ and ‘ambient’ frequently among them - but while not altogether untrue, such terms belie the tension and drama so often present in Tomas’ music. Listening to ‘Älvgång’ is not a passive experience. The eight tracks here feel like a patchwork of memories that bathe in the same ethereal, otherworldly glow of Tarkovsky’s polaroids’.
The machine pulses that dominate this landscape are reigned in and tempered by a human hand; lithe, untethered coils, breathing in and out. ‘Strinne Ett’ sets out with purpose, sensing awe and wonder through the murk, but as the final tone unfurls like a question mark, another chapter begins, unfolding/building like a Tarjei Vesaas novel. These lyrical, abstract miniatures combine to reveal a wider context, fragile humanity standing alone against nature.
Guest appearances on Civilistjävel! records have become a regular occurrence (including recent collaborations with Mayssa Jallad, Laila Sakini, Cucina Povera, Thomas Bush, Eldon + Withdrawn), but are used sparingly and with increasing precision. On ‘Strinne Tre’ Mariska Baars’ (Soccer Committee) voice feels like a balm, a clearing. But as her simple, three-word incantation drifts further into fog, the meaning changes, and her words seem to curdle. Carrier’s beats widen the parameters on ‘Strinne Fyra’, a skittering promise that builds tension then refuses to release it; all false starts, Photek gongs, and trinkling modulars. Jabu’s Jasmine Butt pulls all the threads together for the final track, Thomas Tallis’ ghost walking over offset machine impulses, that work against their own symmetry.
Side two begins inquisitively, scanning bleached, alien surroundings, its sparse pads recalling Aphex Twin’s ‘Selected Ambient works Vol 2’. 'Bjärtrå Två’ picks up the baton from ' Strinne Fyra’ with a ruptured Simmons SDS200 analogue drum synth set free from its shackles, the rhythm eventually slotting into the spaces that were hiding in plain sight. What follows seems like an epiphany; ‘Bjärtrå Tre’ is achingly beautiful, a euphoric, winding ascent that leads to devotional plainsong. ‘Bjärtrå Fyra‘s final unheralded shift feels both tragic and haunting.
Seven years after the haunting resonance of Voids, electronic pioneer Martyn returns to the album format with Music For Existing. Arriving on 15 May 2026, the record is more than a collection of tracks; it is a profound exploration of what it means to remain devoted to a craft in an era of relentless noise.
The album’s announcement is heralded by the lead single "Heavy Sound." The track serves as the perfect bridge between Martyn’s past and present - a masterclass in tension and release that previews the album’s dialogue between the producer, the musicians, and the audience. We live inside a culture that has prioritised and monetised restlessness. The modern apparatus runs on the continuous production of "next," driven by algorithms that value novelty over depth.
Music For Existing serves as a love letter to the communal act of making music - something that is both healing and inherently defiant. For Martyn, a musician often finds solace in musical conversation with others; in the moment we press record, we simply exist together. This record is an invitation to build human infrastructure around what we love, leaning into the fluid nature of community and seeing exactly where the music takes us when we choose to listen.
The album is a sprawling, "off-the-grid" tapestry that echoes Martyn’s profound appreciation for jazz - free, instinctive, and bursting in every sonic direction. This collection features an expansive cast of collaborators, including Duval Timothy, Dan Only, Lucinda Chua, and Mark Cisneros. The record is further elevated by the contributions of jazz talents Mischa Porte and Cees Bruinsma, alongside the evocative words of writer and poet Musa Okwonga.
While the acoustic textures and improvisational spirit of this record may feel like a departure, they represent a homecoming. Jazz has always been ingrained in Martyn’s work; even in his most stripped-back club tracks, the DNA of swing, syncopation, and free-form structure was always present, if not always visible.
Music For Existing marks the beginning of an exciting journey that will continue from the studio to the stage, celebrating the radical act of existing in the moment.
Music From Memory presents ‘Mutualkind’, by Asa Tone, the collaborative project of Melati ESP, Tristan Arp and Kaazi. Written between Indonesia, Mexico City, Berlin and New York, the record unfolds through a process of continual exchange, where distance itself becomes part of the group’s music formation.
At the centre of the album is the idea of a shared language, formed across differences in geography, experience and musical approach. One such process explores Tristan’s electronic hand percussion triggering fragments of Melati’s voice in real time, while a library of spoken words and phonemes are reshaped through chance-based rhythmic processes. Voice becomes percussion, rhythm becomes melody, and the lines between individual contributions begin to dissolve.
Some pieces, including ‘Water Talk’ and ‘Second Language’, were recorded live in a single take, while others were assembled gradually through remote exchange. During the final sessions in Indonesia, Balinese percussionist Putu Septa contributed kendang to two tracks, bringing the instrument into dialogue with modular synthesis, FM textures, electronic drums, MIDI wind instruments and Melati’s shifting vocal forms.
Sounds are slowed, stuttered and reorganised, reflecting a world shaped by illusory borders, vanishing landscapes and glitching ecosystems. Yet the album remains rooted in the act of tending to something shared: a musical field built through listening, improvisation and repeated moments of reunion.
‘Mutualkind’ seeks to blur boundaries without erasing the identities that meet across them, providing a space in which voice and instrument, self and other, separation and togetherness can briefly exist at once.
MFM086 will be released on vinyl and digitally via Music From Memory on October 22nd 2026.
Tokyo-based producer aus debuts on Squama with his new album Mere Meer.
Grounded in the question of how a specific environment can emerge through voice and memory, rather than through recording of an objective reality, the album stands in the tradition of modern Japanese Ambient and Kankyo Ongaku.
aus is the solo project of composer, producer, and curator Yasuhiko Fukuzono. His music is characterized by a precise combination of cinematic strings, acoustic instrumentation, and concrete sound design derived from everyday life.
In recent years, he released music on EM Records, WRWTFWW and his own flau imprint. As a remixer, he put his touch on tracks by Matthew Herbert, Tenniscoats and Craig Armstrong, among others.
His sonic research also extends beyond traditional formats into spatial sound installations and site-specific works, collaborating with experimental figures like Ulla, Li Yilei, and Hinako Omori for institutions such as the Tokyo National Museum.
Much of the album consists of sketches made with synthesizer and voice. Sampled from social media clips, field recordings or a heavily processed version of Fukuzono's own vocals, the voice became a central element of the record. "I have long been interested in the relationship between words and melody.", aus says. In his former work as a speech therapist, he witnessed patients with severe dementia or aphasia, who all of a sudden could recall lyrics when they were sung with familiar melodies. An experience that left a deep impression on him.
During the Covid years, when hearing voices of friends and family sometimes was the only way to feel connected to the outside world, aus began reflecting on the connection between voice and environment. "Every voice represents an encounter with a person, but it's also an encounter with a place."
Unable to travel as freely as before, that limitation became part of his method: rather than just recording actual field material capturing the real world, he would write and perform melodies that simulate a sense of place - an imagined room, an imagined street.
"My interest lies not in the dichotomy between artificial and environmental sounds, but in how they collectively shape a single perceptual field."
By observing and mapping our world, aus creates his own and his new record is a prime example of that process.
Das zweite Album der "Colors"-Trilogie! Der aufstrebende Metal(core)- und Alternative-Künstler hält seine über 2 Millionen TikTok-Follower in Atem. Arankai stammt aus Wisconsin (USA) und trat erstmals 2022 mit einer Reihe von Independent-Veröffentlichungen in Erscheinung. Durch die Kombination von Elementen aus Metal, Alternative Rock und emotionalem Storytelling baute er sich dank seines rohen Sounds und seiner markanten Präsenz in den sozialen Medien schnell eine treue Fangemeinde auf. Nach der "The Portrait Tour" im Mai und Juni 2026 - seiner ersten Headliner-Tournee, die mehrere ausverkaufte Shows in den USA umfasste - wird Arankai ausgewählte Headliner-Konzerte in Europa spielen (darunter einen Auftritt beim Reeperbahn Festival). Anschließend nimmt er diesen Schwung mit ins Frühjahr 2027, wenn er gemeinsam mit Melrose Avenue als Support-Act durch Europa tourt. Arankai in his own words: ""The Shape of Blue", like its predecessor "A Portrait of Red," covers a range of human experiences: rebellion, pride, sacrifice, to name a few that stick out. I tend to draw from personal experiences, but with this particular record I found myself writing songs that reflected specific situations involving other people; sometimes I wasn't even a part of those situations, it was just a powerful moment I found inspiring. I really wanted this record to be something special. I did a lot of things I haven't done before, wrote songs in styles that were new to me; I really wanted to give people a new, exciting experience. I believe "The Shape of Blue", as an album, is a strong, emotive piece. And I hope people enjoy it as much as I loved making it."
On her first Harmony Index album, multi-instrumentalist and producer Nico Leibman spotlights the feelings that are most difficult to express, bringing out the friction between her dreamy hooks and harsher sonics. Written almost like a DJ set, the album shifts intentionally between piano-led trip-hop, lounge, dream pop, 2-step and breakbeat house, not languishing in nostalgia but defining a language that's rooted in desire, surrender and forward motion.
Until now, Leibman has been best known as a touring musician, working alongside artists like Jessica Pratt and Ana Roxanne, while slowly putting together new solo material in-between frequent tours. The album was written in bursts over the course of five long years and provided Leibman with a much-needed outlet - a chance for her to lock into her personal musical preoccupations, like Janet Jackson's 'The Velvet Rope', Everything but the Girl's 'Walking Wounded' and Prefab Sprout's 'Jordan: The Comeback'.
It's this era of pop - when nascent technology collided at force with skillful, soulful songwriting - that provides the album's backbone, fleshed out by Leibman's potent meditations on a spectrum of experiences in Los Angeles. And as the record was evolving, Leibman let long night drives crack her creative world open. Embracing the city's notoriously cinematic romantic side, she used the car as a "little chamber of limerence," in her own words, enabling her fantasies and acting as a test system for each song. "If it wasn't hitting in the car," she says. "It wasn't going to be on the record, period."
This sense of motion is evident almost immediately on 'Recognize', when Leibman's breathy words are carried into the night by choppy, uptempo breaks and resonant pads. So even when she simply coos over chugging guitars and bass on the first half of 'Enough', the drop into a low-slung breakbeat is implied. "Another digression, a break in this tension," she sings. "Was I foolish to believe that this was never your intention?" Leibman's tales of disillusionment are imbued with power, buoyed by her pitch-perfect production, with additional help from co-producer Cesar Maria.
On 'Don't Pretend', she sings softly and soulfully over decelerated Timbaland-inspired beats and a dubwise bassline, aided by additional production from Purelink. And 'If' marks the point where she lets go, infusing her euphoria with melancholy as her voice soars alongside the album's most infectious piano riff. Fittingly, the album concludes with 'Trust', a song about surrendering to the possibilities of love that works as a potent metaphor for the album's evolution. Over the course of five years, Leibman learned to let people in, finally trusting the process. "It's also a fantasy of what it would feel like to finally be in love again," she laughs, accepting that it's still just a fantasy. But it's this hope in unfulfilled longing that gives the album its unique character, defining a bold, unguarded voice in LA's experimental pop landscape.
Deluxe LP features 140g virgin vinyl; heavy-duty board jacket, artwork by Art Rosenbaum + DL. RIYL: Bob Dylan, John Prine, Townes Van Zandt, Ry Cooder, Michael Chapman, Michael Hurley, The Youngbloods & Bonnie “Prince” Billy. Jake Xerxes Fussell’s 4th album finds the acclaimed folksong interpreter, guitarist, and singer navigating fresh sonic and compositional landscapes on the most conceptually focused, breathtakingly rendered, and enigmatically poignant record of his wondrous catalog. Produced by James Elkington and featuring formidable players both familiar (Casey Toll, Libby Rodenbough) and new (Joe Westerlund, Bonnie “Prince” Billy), it includes Jake’s first original compositions; atmospheric arrangements with pedal steel, horns, and strings. One of the most striking and strangely moving moments on Jake Xerxes Fussell’s gorgeous Good and Green Again an album, his fourth and most recent, replete with such dazzling moments arrives at its very end, with the brief words to the final song “Washington.” “General Washington/Noblest of men/His house, his horse, his cherry tree, and him,” Fussell sings, after a hushed introductory passage in which his trademark percussively fingerpicked Telecaster converses lacily with James Elkington’s parlor piano. That’s the entire lyrical content of the song, which proceeds to float away on orchestral clouds of French horn, trumpet, and strings, until it simply stops, suddenly evaporating, vanishing with no fade or trace, no resolution to its sorrowful minor-key chord progression, just silence and stillness and stark presidential absence. It feels like the end of a film, or the cold departure of a ghost, and is unlike anything else Jake has recorded. In all his work Jake humanizes his material with his own profound curatorial and interpretive gifts, unmooring stories and melodies from their specific eras and origins and setting them adrift in our own waterways. The robust burr of his voice, which periodically melts and catches at a particularly tender turn of phrase, and the swung rhythmic undertow of exquisite, seemingly effortless guitar-playing here he plays more acoustic than ever before pull new valences of meaning from ostensibly antique songs and subjects. On Good and Green Again, Jake not only ventures beyond his established mastery of songcatching and songmaking into songwriting, but likewise navigates fresh sonic and compositional landscapes, going green with lusher, more atmospheric and ambitious arrangements. The result is the most conceptually focused, breathtakingly rendered, and enigmatically poignant record of his wondrous catalog. It’s also his most deliberately premeditated album, representing his fruitful return to a producer partnership after two self-produced projects, What in the Natural World (2017) and Out of Sight (2019) (William Tyler produced his friend’s self-titled 2015 debut.) This time James Elkington produced and played a panoply of instruments, bringing to Jake’s arcane song choices his own peerless sense of harmony and orchestration, balance and dramatic tension. The pair enlisted a group of formidable players including regular bandmembers Casey Toll (Mt. Moriah, Nathan Bowles) on upright bass, Libby Rodenbough (Mipso) on strings, and Nathan Golub on pedal steel. They were joined by welcome newcomers Joe Westerlund (Megafaun, Califone) on drums, Joseph Decosimo on fiddle, Anna Jacobson on brass, and veteran collaborator and avowed Fussell fan Bonnie “Prince” Billy, who contributes additional vocals. Album opener “Love Farewell” (featuring some beautiful singing by Bonnie “Prince” Billy), an elliptical tale of the folly of war, set to the world’s most heartbreaking goodbye march for a lover left behind. “Carriebelle” and “Breast of Glass” each similarly concerns, in its own way, romantic love and leavings. All three songs highlight Jacobson’s diaphanous, understated brass parts, tying them together in a true lover’s knot. “Rolling Mills Are Burning Down,” with its distant keening strings and capacious sense of space, observes and mourns the loss of work and community in the wake of elemental disaster. Nine-minute tour de force “The Golden Willow Tree,” the sole explicitly narrative song herein, is a hypnotic, minimalist rendering of a tragic maritime ballad about scuttling an enemy ship in exchange for wealth and glory and a captain’s inevitable betrayal. “Fussell is creating his own legacy within the long lineage of traditional folk musicians and storytellers that have come before him.” The New York Times // “So elegant … It’s relaxing in the way that pondering a Zen koan is relaxing, and sweet in the way that the wounded, honey-voiced blues of Mississippi John Hurt are sweet.” Pitchfork // “Music that resides at the seams of Appalachia and the cosmos.”
The annual Bonkers Music compilation is back with another dose of high-energy bangers. For its seventh anniversary, the series takes a fresh step forward, exploring a slightly evolved musical direction while keeping the distinctive sound that defines it. “Year VII” lands on 12” vinyl.
A1 David Meyer & Ludviq – Mandanga 2.0 (Feat Nick Hanzo)
The collaboration between Ludviq and David Meyer strikes a compelling balance between tension and movement. Drawing from underground electronic influences, Mandanga 2.0 evolves through hypnotic layers, acid-driven momentum, and a powerful groove, resulting in a distinctive cut that feels both immersive and uncompromising. Mandanga 2.0 is a dark, hypnotic electronic track built around squelching acid sequences, deep rolling grooves, and haunting vocal elements from Nick Hanzo. Atmospheric textures and a relentless rhythmic drive create a tense, immersive journey through shadowy soundscapes, blending raw energy with a refined sense of space.
A2 Neskeh – Liquid Sky
A raw trip built entirely around samples from Liquid Sky, Neskeh’s one of all-time favorite films. Crunchy saturated highs, basement-shaking low end, heroin-soaked wonky vocals, and freaky alien leads drifting through the mix. A warped tribute to an iconic soundtrack. Welcome to the space trippy club
A3 Your Reference – Afterparty
Julia Konor aka “Your Reference” one of the hidden gems of Barcelona’s underground scene, lands for the first time on the label with “Afterparty”
”Afterparty” draws inspiration from abandoned industrial spaces, empty warehouses, and nights where the only thing that mattered was the music. No rules, no expectations. Just raw energy, dusty air, concrete, and people completely immersed in the moment. The track is a personal postcard from that world.
B1 Lebollet & Mar Bravo – Aleta
“Aleta” is one of those Colombian words that somehow made its way into our shared language. We use it for raw, intense, dark tracks. Hard to translate. Makes sense when you feel it.
B2 Funboys – Skin In The Game
“Against the persistent ebb and flow of a breaking heart’s pulse, echoes of half-faded memories tease your attention… On the edge of forgetting, you can almost remember. And then it hits you – the coalescence of feeling into colour and form, warm in its familiarity, powerful in its simplicity. Uncanny, because it was right there all along. Don’t hold your breath… Listen!”
B3 Milla Campollo – Brote Psicodélico
“Brote Psicodélico” emerges from a hypnotic intersection of acid rhythms, psychedelic textures and raw downtempo energy. The track slowly unfolds through repetition and movement, creating a constantly evolving state between tension and release. Dark, trippy and physical, it is built around a groove that pulls you deeper with every layer. Distorted elements and acidic patterns weave in and out of the rhythm, giving the track an organic yet alien character. A journey designed for listening, less about following a linear narrative and more about entering a state of mind, where the boundaries between rhythm, body and psychedelia begin to blur.
Veerus & Mattia Saviolo bring their A-game for the brilliant ‘Move Your Body’. The Italian compatriots aren’t new faces to Drumcode. Veerus has earned his stripes via five fantastic EP over an eight-year period, highlighted by ‘Hypnosis’, ‘System’ and ‘Cycle’. Meanwhile Mattia Saviolo is a recent debutant dropping the excellent ‘Parallel Dimension’ on A-Sides Vol.10. When Veerus suggested a collaboration to Mattia, he didn’t mince his words. “Yes, but it has to be a bomb!” Over two days the pair locked in to build an outstanding peak-time production from the ground up. “We started completely from scratch, with no ideas prepared in advance and no project exchanges before meeting. In just two days the track was finished and everything happened very naturally. We both brought our own vision into the process without stepping on each other’s toes, which made the collaboration feel effortless from start to finish,” Veerus shares. ‘Move Your Body’ has a distinct charismatic appeal not commonly found in techno tracks, highlighted by a stomping riff throughout and tension-filled break, before it turns into a pumping cut in the final stanza. A straight-up belter! Accompanying it is a captivating solo track from Mattia, ‘Mindframe’. An absolute gem, file under futuristic techno that sounds like no other.
Faitiche presents the debut solo album by cellist, sound artist, and composer Topu Lyo: “quiet scenes from tokyo” brings together sixteen miniatures for solo cello and tape echo that oscillate between abstracts drones and rhythmic pizzicato sketches – all recorded at Topu’s Tokyo apartment. The constant traffic noise from a nearby highway has become an accompanying soundtrack for his compositions and can be heard on the recordings. Topu’s playing is marked by a distinctive idiom oriented more towards abstract electronic studio effects than classical technique.
The artist spoke to Jan Jelinek about his work:
JJ: A solo cello album may seem like an odd fit for a label that has to date released only music that is electronic in the broadest sense. But I think “quiet scenes from tokyo” complements the Faitiche repertoire exceptionally well. Its sixteen miniatures showcase the cello in all its complexity: the bowed passages sometimes recall a tape feedback drone; the pizzicato playing conjures up the percussion recordings of Moondog; and the abstract textures might be mistaken for the product of a granular sampler rather than rapid finger work on the cello. I’m constantly surprised by just how rich and varied this album is – without ever losing the charm of its sketch-like quality. Could you say a few words about the making of your album – first of all, from a rather technical perspective: what production tools did you use, and why?
TL: My production tools were very sparse. Just a solo cello and my Roland 301 Space Echo, which I only used at the end, running everything through it during mixing, tape only. After years of working with electronics, pedals, and synthesizers, moving to Tokyo pushed me toward minimizing my setup. But my aesthetics shifted too, toward simplicity. I wanted to strip everything back to just the acoustic cello and see how far I could push it — replicating some of my favorite electronic effects through extended technique: slow portamento, LFOs, filters, detune, noise. I’d also been listening to a cassette of ocean sounds for years. When I moved to Tokyo I was horrified to find myself living directly across from a freeway. Eventually the freeway started sounding almost identical to the ocean — and that ended up playing a prominent part in the recording.
JJ: That’s super interesting: mimicking electronic production as a compositional idea for the cello! You say the sound of the freeway is crucial to the album: I, too, tend to interpret steady traffic noise as a positive soundscape – do we hear the freeway on the album? I can also hear other field recordings, for example on “a street car with announcements”. Can you say a bit about how these field recordings influence your playing?
TL: Yes, you can hear the freeway on the album! The freeway is most prominent in “old trees in lonely spring”, “yuyake koyake”, and “the moon” (you can clearly hear individual cars). When I first began recording I had my balcony door shut tightly, but after a while I began leaning into the highway sound and slowly opening the door little by little to control the amount of noise. “streetcar with announcements” was a moment I was recording and a car passed by making announcements in the background. I loved how it sounded! Same thing with “yuyake koyake”, and later I realized that every day at 5pm the same song plays to mark sunset, telling children it’s time to go home. Having this bedrock of sound puts less pressure on me to put music on top or to play more notes.
JJ: It’s astonishing how much this differs from what I’d imagined: I’d been picturing peaceful landscape recordings, but had never thought of a freeway. Which goes to show how open to interpretation traffic noises are. So the room by the freeway had a major influence on the album – how are you going to perform it live?
TL: The contrast between the freeway and the beautiful landscape in my head couldn’t have been starker. I too was imagining a beautiful landscape in which to create the album, but somehow it still worked out. I've been going back and forth a lot on live shows and I think the most honest way is to have it the most stripped down. I was thinking of using traffic samples etc., but I think the duet really comes from the background sounds from every unique venue/environment. So as it stands, I’ll just be doing acoustic solo cello.
A quiet intensity permeates Chantal Michelle’s music, like a veiled flame. Even at its most spare and delicate, an undulating tension unsettles the ear through wavering microtonal interference and uncanny spatial juxtaposition. She takes seriously the mandate of the composer to foster new relationships between various types of sounds, bringing together disparate field recordings, instrumental stems, and the sounds of circuitry in unheard configurations. Resolution is elusive, in its place a sense of oblong cyclicality and prickly uncertainty. When the veil is pulled back, we find more depth, more complexity, and more mystery.
Unit of Heart, Michelle’s second album of 2026, presents two interrelated pieces that highlight diverging compositional modes. Here she brings in two key collaborators: Patrick Shiroishi, who contributes flutes and saxophones throughout, and poet Funto Omojola, whose words and voice bookend the title composition. Both compositions unfold gradually, but where the album’s a-side “Sudden Oceans” presents a minimal tonal palette focused entirely on the subtle grain of wind instruments, “Unit of Heart” proceeds linearly, moving through passages of synthesizer, environmental recordings, and full-cheeked wails of saxophone. Both encourage a state of focused listening as the scope of the music deepens and widens.
“Sudden Oceans” allows the listener to hover in rippling currents of air, breath overlapping breath in a shimmering patchwork. All flutes and saxophones on the piece are played by Shiroishi, which are molded by Michelle into a pattern that resembles the flow of tidal waters, surging and receding moment to moment as the tonal density increases. Expansive and recursive, it reflects both the restorative awe and eerie disquiet of encountering the sublime. The first and last sounds we hear are the gentle rush of unmediated breath as Shiroishi connects and disconnects from his flute.
Michelle’s skill at presenting the familiar as preternatural comes to the fore on “Unit of Heart, ” one of her most ambitious works. Omojola’s voice begins with a melody that could be a lullaby, but as it’s bounced around the stereo field it takes on a haunted quality. Their poem, reprinted on the LP’s inner sleeve, hints at a similar type of transformation: “I mean this is where our mouth turns saliva into spears only a throat can recognize. ” Pads of downy synthesizer billow and are subsumed by a discordant ringing. The climactic section features atonal electronics and field recordings, first of water and then the evening call of insects, processed in such a way to transform them into pulsating bursts of noise. What we think we know about the world, what is elemental, can change with even the slightest adjustment of the lens.
****COVER WITH AUGMENTED REALITY**** Argentinian producer Translate synthesises states of consciousness and perceptions into his semantics of sound, creating a distinct language of mental techno through hypnotic repetition, precision and deeply immersive atmospheres. His presence in this realm extends through his label Relativity, whose latest EP brings together tracks by Mike Parker and Oscar Mulero, while his own productions have appeared on Svreca’s Semantica Records. For his DIG release, Translate shifts into a broader spectrum, revealing a side of his production that has remained unexplored until now. DIG Curated captures this moment of a new sonic expansion between his signature hypnotic journeys and a stripped-down techno sound. Expansive opens the record with Translate’s distinct mental techno, pushed into an added psychedelic dimension. With a vast and trippy sound, the track steadily fills the space, inviting the dancers to go inward and simultaneously reach out into a collective morphic field. With Discursive, the coordinates shift, introducing a very stripped-down techno side of Translate’s production and a palette rarely heard from him before. Reduced to its essential elements, the track cuts directly through the floor with a functional groove, whilst retaining the tension embedded in his sonic DNA. On the B side, Fuse accelerates with fast-moving pads, mechanical drums and swerving loops that gradually lock the body into trance. Quirky textures spiral throughout, with robotic glitches sounding like organic beings. Coefficients closes the record by pulling the listener into rich bass and expanding loops over a cold melody that guides the final journey into a cosmic unfold. Hypnotic sci-fi vocals emerge from an interplanetary future, traversing space in search of earthly traces. The record ends suspended somewhere between the transmission and unknown, like a sonic threshold. Words by Lora Mateeva Animation/Artwork - Marcin Pospiech Master - Nihad Tule Graphist - Ferdinand Prat
Carlos Benedetti, a Colombian house producer and live performer from Cali, has steadily become one of the standout names in today’s underground dance scene. Following multiple vinyl releases on the acclaimed German label Disco Disco, Benedetti’s productions have earned widespread praise and support from respected figures including deep house icon Cinthie.
Specialists, selectors and collectors alike have described his records with comments such as:
“fabulous 12-inch”
“This is the most wild dance record to come out this year so far”
“Cannot formulate the words to capture how this one sounds and makes me feel”
“Listen close and behold.”
With this latest EP for SUPREME STRIKER, Benedetti once again delivers a collection that feels destined to become a future underground classic.
The record opens with Nostalgia Blues, a soulful and deeply textured piece channeling the spirit of Larry Levan’s legendary dancefloor energy, somewhere between disco’s emotional golden age and modern club functionality.
On Bellavista, Benedetti dives deeper into high-energy territory, layering powerful black grooves, hypnotic rhythmic tension and rich percussive movement into something both vibrant and timeless.
Pyramid follows with soaring arpeggios and delicate melodic flourishes, recalling the euphoric sophistication of Todd Terje at his most inspired, while maintaining Benedetti’s raw dancefloor sensibility.
Closing track How High The Moon nods toward Patrick Cowley’s pioneering synth work, injecting the EP with cosmic disco pressure, futuristic funk textures and a strange late-night sensuality.
More than a simple collection of tracks, the EP unfolds as a fully coherent journey through house, disco, Italo and high-energy mutations, balancing emotional depth, machine-driven grooves and timeless dancefloor instinct with remarkable naturality.
22, A Million is a record of dualities. First released in 2016, Bon Iver's third album found Justin Vernon reckoning with pain and love, suffering and redemption, omens and happenstance. Such ambiguity is the core of how Justin composes words: there are always two ways to see something. Inside a fragmented language of symbols and numbers is a sonic distillation of past years of turbulence and how to recover. Across ten songs, 22, A Million shattered expectations of what a Bon Iver record could be. Through different groups of friends—close, passing, new, old—he began to assemble proto-melodies, vague textures and specific moods from hundreds of hours of recorded improvisations. Songs like “22 (OVER S--N),” “33 ‘GOD’,” “715 - CRΣΣKS” and “8 (circle)” traded familiar structures for fractured electronics, pitch-shifted vocals and dense layers of sound. What initially felt like a radical departure has since become one of the most influential and enduring works in Bon Iver’s catalog. 2026 marks the ten-year anniversary of 22, A Million. To celebrate,
Bon Iver and Jagjaguwar will release a deluxe anniversary edition pressed on Frosted Silver vinyl, featuring new alternative artwork with soft-touch finish and spot UV gloss detailing. The package will include the original 28-page lyric booklet, represented here in 3x silver inks, with an additional 12-page full-color inlay booklet documenting the album’s creative process through previously unseen artwork and an essay penned by Eric Timothy Carlson. The Brooklyn-based artist’s visual work has shaped the Bon Iver world since 22, A Million and his visual language has become inseparable from the album itself. A custom 12-panel ‘inverted cross’ CD edition will also be available.
Half a century after its original release, legendary Lebanese musician and singer Marcel Khalife—renowned oud player and global icon of both music and activism—returns with a new recording. On this album, he reinterprets four of the five tracks from his debut, Promises of the Storm. A bold defiance of time and history.
Why revisit the same album, 50 years later? The reasons are many, but one stands above the rest: history itself seems to be repeating. The narrative unfolds once more in the same dire circumstances as half a century ago, as if time has folded in on itself, returning everything to its starting point. The urgency, the necessity—it all remains, pressing and inescapable. We must begin again.
In 1976, a young Marcel Khalife found himself exiled in Paris, fleeing the Lebanese Civil War and his family’s Christian village, where his progressive, left-wing ideas had placed him under a kind of house arrest. He was one of the few to openly and unwaveringly champion the Palestinian cause. The situation quickly became untenable, especially since, just a month before the war began in March 1975, Khalife—fresh out of the conservatory—had given his first public concert to great acclaim. Then, everything collapsed. What does one do when trapped at home? Read books, play the oud, and turn those readings into songs. In his family’s de facto prison, Khalife began setting the poetry of the great Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish to music. These songs, born of confinement, he carried with him into exile, driving to Paris where a producer offered him the chance to record an album. Naturally, the tracks were the ones he had been improvising at home from Darwish’s poems. The album’s title, Promises of the Storm, echoed the war that was just beginning. Khalife recalls that the album became a hit after a concert at the Fête de l’Huma, where 500 copies were sold in a single day. “Everything started there, and it never stopped,” he remembers. He would meet Mahmoud Darwish shortly after, at a dinner organized by mutual friends. From that moment, a deep friendship blossomed between the two men.
With Darwish’s words and Khalife’s music, the songs of Promises of the Storm are imbued with a powerful evocative force—melancholy, tenderness, and poetic resistance in the face of violence. The album catapulted Khalife to international stardom, leading to endless tours and recordings, yet he never abandoned his commitments.
Now, 50 years later, Promises of the Storm returns in a fresh recording, because history is repeating itself. After the Israeli bombings in Lebanon at the end of 2024, Khalife, who was on tour, found himself stranded in Paris. He remembered a recurring request from his son, musician Bachar Mar-Khalife, who had often urged him to re-record his now-classic debut album. One morning, oud in hand, Marcel knocked on his son’s door and said, “Shall we? I’m ready to record.”
These new versions are stripped down, raw, and intimate—just the solitary strings of the oud. Khalife sings as never before, his voice no longer marked by the fragility of youth but imbued with something deeper, freer, unshackled. It soars high yet resonates low, always clear, as if to escape sadness, to evoke love and violence, desire and exile. In just four songs, Khalife encapsulates a lifetime, and a philosophy of life. Rita tells of a love of Darwish’s, with the haunting line (translated from Arabic): “Between Rita’s eyes and mine, a rifle.” Oummi invokes the figure of the mother as a metaphor for the lost land. Promises of the Storm is a meditation on revolution, the hope for change, the melancholy of defeat, and the power of thought. Passport captures, through poetry, the feeling of being stateless—a citizen of everywhere and nowhere.
Time has only strengthened these texts and this music. History never repeats itself without a valid, indispensable reason for the present. That reason is fully contained in Marcel Khalife’s new interpretations, which have never sounded so clear, so right, so essential.
SIDE B presents the first installment of a new series aimed at eroding classic structures within club music from inside the playing field. 'The Unshaped Series' pushes depth into the label's mission statement, isolating tone and texture, and confronting its listeners by raising not only the experimental undertones of the music it has been showcasing. This new take provides an opportunity for these spaces to be described and for new emotions to glow between the same walls in turn.
For 'The Unshaped Series' first volume, SIDE B emphasizes its name by challenging ten techno producers to detach themselves from their habitual arrangements. If the rhythm that we hold so dear is taken out of the equation, what is left? This question is answered by the bleeding edge of the international scene and pressed on wax to offer a unique product in concept and quality. Techno has spearheaded sonic research and its artistic application since its beginnings, so to honor this tradition, SIDE B compiles these pieces to boil down the true essence of club music into what it truly is : sculpting time and space.
Sweep returns with its second release, bringing together Jigit co-head O.Bee and Unreleased boss Cem G. ‘Makes Me Feel’ is the first music to see the light from a long-standing friendship and collaboration shaped between their two homes, New York and Istanbul, and comes backed with a stirring remix from Giegling’s Edward.
O.Bee and Cem G bring forward a sound rooted in Istanbul’s music culture, developed through ReSolute’s warehouse parties on the outskirts of Brooklyn and refined at Berlin’s Club der Visionaere. It’s music that feels equally at home in all three settings. Dyed Soundorom’s Sweep is built around underground sounds with depth and groove — much like his own DJ sets — and this second release sits naturally within that world.
On side A, the original mix of ‘Makes Me Feel’ rolls out with a sturdy groove from the start. O.Bee and Cem G build the energy carefully, peppering the ethereal atmosphere with a repeated vocal clip as the tension grows. A variety of percussive layers and pads add depth, keeping you locked in. Halfway through, the vocal goes into full flow — scattered words bounce around like a jumbled poem, evolving into a call and response of dissipating voices on top of the rolling bass, fully hypnotizing. Underground music par excellence.
The flip features a rework from one of Giegling’s central figures, Edward, who adds a tougher edge to the original. Still operating in the deeper end of the spectrum, the remix plucks out the ‘Make me feel’ part of the vocal and uses it throughout. Dark, brooding and enchanting, Edward’s reinterpretation progressively adds more layers, increasing the dynamism while bringing further nuance to the atmosphere. A real treat for Edward fans…
If you caught Dyed Soundorom playing anywhere, you surely would have heard these cuts in the mix. Perfect dancefloor groovers… Now they’ve finally arrived on Sweep — c'est l'heure de la fête!
