Cerca:terra form

Forming a wide spectrum of sounds, Comics Trip Records always manage to include a plenty of influences into their releases but with a uniquely future retro slant. Next up to instil this musical identity is VTL One and the third story of Comics Trip Records.

Terrazzo is a new VA label formed by Northern Irish selector Holly Lester (Duality Trax) and prolic label entrepreneur/producer Steffan Todorović (Gestalt Records/Coymix/Hidden Assets/Abdul Raeva). The label’s debut EP journeys through a variety of club sounds with Dylan Forbes, Eric OS, Anderson and underground heavyweight Harrison BDP rolling out 4 cuts of euphoriainducing prog, broken beat-infused tech, heady minimal an contemporary Detroit techno.

Reissue of Elizio De Buzios's "Tamanquiro". Remastered and pressed on 45 RPM!

Sitting a good 90-minute drive away from Rio de Janeiro’s crowded beaches and packed tourist hot-spots, Campo Grande is not a neighbourhood that attracts travellers from around the World. Traditionally it is home to the city’s lower middle-class, whose aspirations of moving up the social ladder were played out in a suburb that has always been solidly working-class.

Campo Grande is home to Elizio De Buzios, a Brazilian musician who started playing music in the late 1970s and early 1980s. De Buzios began as a drummer, before learning to play guitar and starting to compose and sing his own music. When he turned 18, De Buzios joined a local band formed by some of his friends and other like-minded local musicians: Sol da Terra. The band mostly played samba in neighbourhood bars and small venues around Camp Grande, but De Buzios was interested in more than just samba. While he naturally admired great samba composers such as Cartola and Beth Carvalho, his musical pass went far beyond Brazil’s national music. He also loved MPB and bossa-nova and at home he listed to Joäo Bosco, Milton Nascimento, Luis Melodia, Tom Jobim, and many bossa-nova singers.

In 1980 De Buzios was noticed by a local representative of international major label Polygram, who gave him the opportunity to record two songs. He was excited, so started searching for inspiration for the songs he would eventually lay down. He found that inspiration close to home while passing a neighbourhood shop which made and sold clogs. After noticing a display of then fashionable Portuguese clogs outside the store, De Buzios popped inside to talk to the owner. It turned out that he was a tamanqueiro – as clog-makers are traditionally called in his native Portugal – and was as passionate about music as he was about the footwear he made. Thus inspired, De Buzios returned home to work more on the lyrics and music.

The next day, he headed into the studio to record the song, with Vale Ribeiro, who later went on to produce tracks for Marcos Valle, behind the desk. With Ribeiro’s assistance, De Buzios managed to record two songs in one day: ‘Tamanqueiro’ and ‘Sou Um Louco’, a ballad with English lyrics blended into the mostly Portuguese text. From the start, it was clear that ‘Tamanqueiro’ would be the single’s A-side. Incredibly catchy and funky, with some subtle disco elements, the song remained distinctively Brazilian thanks to the use of the cuíca. Listening back all these years on, De Buzios’ lyrics seem almost spontaneous, carry the track forward, and make it almost impossible not to sing along. Its infectiousness and funkiness made it an instant hit with the first few people to hear it.

When it was released, responses to the song were enthusiastic, even if it never became the Brazil-wide smash it should have been. It resonated well in the local clubs and on the radio, but unfortunately the marketing was handled by an inexperienced Polygram employee who failed to adequately promote the track. As a result, the record sank without trace and De Buzios’ dreams of stardom evaporated. Having just started a family, he realized he could not live off the uncertainty of being a musician. Instead, he got a job at city hall as a civil servant, a role he continued until his retirement a few years ago. ‘Tamanqueiro’ and ‘Sou Um Louco’ remain the only two songs he ever recorded.

In the early 2000s, with the rise of diggers’ culture, ‘Tamanqueiro’ slowly surfaced again. It became a sought after, hard to find seven-inch single, finding its way onto the airwaves once more and into the ears of a new generation of listeners. Some started appreciating the song so much that it was referred to as the “best-Jorge-Ben-song-Jorge-Ben-never-recorded”. And they are right: ‘Tamanqueiro’ does have that Jorge Ben-straight-forwardness. It’s a completely honest song that’s almost impossible not to fall in love with. Thanks to this remastered reissue on Rush Hour, De Buzios may now get the props his sole record so richly deserves.

Now for the good news: De Buzios is still singing in local bars and clubs in and around Campo Grande. He is surprised, but also incredibly proud, that the record he had almost forgotten about is appreciated so much by a group of music lovers he didn’t even know existed. But above all, he is happy that more than 40 years after the recording session, the record lives on – not only on this re-release, but also in his weekend sets in the bars of Campo Grande.

*2021 Repress*

Minami Deutsch 1st self-titled album. Minami Deutsch’s debut album is sated with an absolute love of Krautrock and the driving motorik beat.

=Band Description=
Minami Deutsch was formed by Kyotaro Miula (guitar, vocals, synthesizer) in Tokyo in 2014. Their sound is influenced by both their love for Krautrock legends such as Can and Neu!, and the band members being self-professed "repetition freaks" who heavily listen to minimal techno.
The music proceeds straightforwardly with the Motorik beat (Hammer beat), devised by Klaus Dinger (Kraftwerk, Neu!), as its central axis. Humorous, yet bizarre Japanese lyrics are whispered over a hard, cold beat that is maniacally repeated, creating a pleasant ambience of electronic pulses drifting in space. Sharp guitar tones reminiscent of Michael Karoli (Can) occasionally explode into fuzz distortion, on the verge of collapse.

2025 Repress

On his fourth album proper, Now Here No Where, Danish producer Kölsch (aka Rune Reilly Kölsch) is charting new terrain. Fans of his ‘years trilogy’ – 1977, 1983 and 1989, released on Kompakt over the past decade – were privy to a kind of sonic diary, an autobiography, tracking the artist’s early years through three albums of superior, meticulously rendered techno. Calling in collaborators where needed – most notably, the strings of Gregor Schwellenbach – there was still something deeply personal going down, not quite hermetic, but internally focused; the albums proved not only Kölsch’s mastery of his chosen form, but also his capacity to make techno personal, individual, and to trace histories of the self through music. But on Now Here No Where, Kölsch finds his feet firmly planted in the present. Reflecting on his new album, he notes, “It is fascinating to write about memories and feelings that have had years to manifest and develop, but how would I approach current emotions?” It’s a good question: our past coheres through the narratives we build around memories, but the moment we’re in, the newness of the now-ness, is harder to navigate; this story is as yet untold. For Kölsch, this makes Nowhere Now Here “an album about life in the year 2020. A time defined by confusion, misinformation and environmental challenges. It is an emotional interpretation of personal and mental challenges, observations and personal growth.” Kölsch does this with music that effortlessly balances emotional heft with the dancefloor’s brimming desires. It’s a space that Kölsch has navigated for a while now – one of techno’s breakthrough acts, an in-demand DJ across the globe and a prolific and restlessly creative producer, he’s also Kompakt’s biggest-selling act – but Now Here No Where ratchets up the lushness, making for a delirious drift across twelve tracks that are at once perfectly poised and deeply trippy. “Great Escape” is an elegant swoon, an opener that pivots on a sigh and a prayer; then “Shoulder Of Giants” bustles into view, subliminal clatter and an aching violin line giving way to a riff that glows with fluorescence and iridescence. “Remind You” combines an odd ECM jazziness with notes from a twenty-first century torch song; “Sleeper Must Awaken” mines huge buzzing synths and lets them float, in and out of sync, with reduced, ticking beats; “Traumfabrik” (dream factory – there’s a giveaway) is oddly lush, the tones malleable and plastic, morphing across a glitching undertow. There are sad, emotional washes of strings throughout the penultimate “While Waiting For Something To Care About”, while “Romtech User Manual”’s patterns twist and shape in the light. Throughout, Kölsch never keeps his eye off the dancefloor, and you can tell this is his still his home. “The amount of energy and joy I experience every time I perform, has a profound effect on me. It has inspired me so much of late and has become an integral part of my musicality.” “The way we join in expressing our hope for the future every weekend has given me so much,” Kölsch concludes. The club as a temporary autonomous zone, as a space both of freedom and of politics; somehow, that’s all here, Now Here No Where. “Most of all, it is an album about hope.”

Auf seinem vierten Album “Now Here No Where” betritt der dänische Produzent Kölsch (alias Rune Reilly Kölsch) neues Terrain. Seine Trilogie mit den Jahreszahlen 1977, 1983 und 1989, die in den letzten zehn Jahren bei Kompakt erschienen war, hatte seine Fans durch eine Art akustisches Tagebuch, eine Autobiografie geführt, die die frühen Jahre des Künstlers über die Länge von drei großartig produzierten Techno-Alben nachgezeichnet hatte. Wo es nötig war, wurden Kollaborateure hinzugezogen - allen voran für die Streicher, arrangiert von Gregor Schwellenbach -, dennoch zeichnete die Musik immer auch etwas zutiefst Persönliches aus, etwas nicht Hermetisches, auf eine bestimmte Art immer auch nach Innen fokussiert. Die Alben bewiesen nicht nur, wie sehr Kölsch die von ihm gewählte äußere Form beherrscht, sondern auch seine Fähigkeit, Techno zu etwas Persönlichem und Individuellem zu machen und der eigene Geschichte durch Musik näher zu kommen.

Auf “Now Here No Where” steht Kölsch nun mit beiden Beinen fest auf dem Boden der Gegenwart. Mit Blick auf sein neues Album stellt er fest: "Es ist faszinierend, über Erinnerungen und Gefühle zu schreiben, die Zeit hatten, sich zu manifestieren und zu entwickeln, aber wie nähere ich mich meinen aktuellen Emotionen?”. Eine gute Frage: Unsere Vergangenheit wird im Innersten zusammengehalten durch Geschichten, die aus Erinnerungen entstehen, aber der Moment, in dem wir uns befinden, die Neuheit des Neuen, ist schwieriger zu beschreiben; die Geschichte ist noch nicht erzählt. Für Kölsch ist “No Here Now Where” daher "ein Album über das Leben im Jahr 2020. Eine Zeit, die von Verwirrung, Desinformation und ökologischen Herausforderungen geprägt ist. Es geht dabei um die emotionale Interpretation von persönlichen und mentalen Herausforderungen, von Beobachtungen und der eigenen, individuellen Weiterentwicklung".

Kölsch tut dies mit Musik, die mühelos kleine Gefühlsausbrüche mit den großen Sehnsüchten der Tanzfläche in Einklang bringt. Es ist dieser Zwischenraum, in dem sich Kölsch schon seit einiger Zeit bewegt, als weltweit gefragter und gefeierter Live Act, DJ und so unermüdlicher wie kreativer Produzent (nicht umsonst ist Kölsch der “biggest-selling-artist” bei Kompakt), doch “Now Here No Where” treibt all das noch weiter auf die Spitze: ein enormer Sog entsteht, der uns über zwölf Tracks hinweg gefangen hält wie ein perfekt ausbalancierter Trip. Der Opener "Great Escape" ist pure Eleganz, ein Track, der irgendwo zwischen Seufzer und Gebet hin und her schwankt; dann drängt "Shoulder Of Giants" ins Blickfeld, ein unterschwelliges Geklapper, eine wehende Geige, schließlich ein schillernder Riff, der in der Dunkelheit zu leuchten und zu glühen scheint.

"Remind You" kombiniert seltsamen ECM-Jazz mit einem sentimentalen Liebeslied des 21. Jahrhunderts; "Sleeper Must Awaken" schürft im Bergwerk riesiger Synthesizer, mal im Takt, mal aus dem Takt ticken die minimalen Beats; "Traumfabrik" ist ungewöhnlich “lush”, die einzelnen Töne, geschmeidig und modelliert, zerfließen in einem glitzernden Abgrund. Das vorletzte Stück "While Waiting For Something To Care About" wird von traurigen, emotionalen Strings untermalt, während sich die Strukturen von "Romtech User Manual" im Licht drehen und immer wieder neu formieren. Die ganze Zeit über behält Kölsch die Tanzfläche im Auge, und man merkt ihm an, dass sie immer noch sein Zuhause ist: "Die Menge an Energie und Freude, die ich bei jedem Auftritt erlebe, hat eine tiefe Wirkung auf mich. Sie hat mich gerade in letzter Zeit stark inspiriert und ist zu einem integralen Bestandteil meiner Musik geworden.”

"Die Art und Weise, wie wir an jedem Wochenende gemeinsam unsere Hoffnung auf eine bessere Zukunft zum Ausdruck bringen, hat mir viel gegeben", so Kölsch abschließend. Die Vision des Clubs als eine temporäre autonome Zone, als ein Raum von großer Freiheit aber auch von politischen Ideen, das ist irgendwie alles hier drin, Now Here No Where. "Es ist vor allem ein Album über Hoffnung."

Calendar Crowd was the duo of Alan Heaton and Terence tiernan who met in their hometown of Widnes, Cheshire as schoolboys and played together in various bands in the '70s. In the '80s they formed a 6-piece band called Room For Humans 0and recorded one single'Telephone Telephone / Girlfriend'. When the band split and Alan and Terence continued as Calendar Crowd in a more experimental direction. Their influences were wide reaching: Kraftwerk, Neu, Cabaret Voltaire, Eno, PIL, and Joy Division.In 1982 they released their debut single 'Perfect Hideaway/Perfect Hideaway Dub' on 7'. Guitarist David Knowles joined them as they toured the UK and recorded and released their follow up EP 'Listen in to the Heart' in 1985. A reviewer at the time called Calendar Crowd 'A Moody Merseyside trio with strong atmospheric tunes and haunting lyrics.' For this reissue we've compiled both singles on one EP featuring all four songs. Perfect Hideway is a evocative and dreamy, the music escorts you on a tour of icy landscapes, with Terrance's deep, rich vocals guiding the way accented by bright brass stabs. Meanwhile the Dub has stripped back the vocals, added delayed samples and heavy pounding drums. On the B-side 'Listen in to the Heart' and 'Questions Answers' are darker electronic rhythm tracks with layers of ethereal keyboards and guitar melodies. All songs have been remastered by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley. The record is housed in an exact replica of the original Perfect Hideaway jacket featuring black and white October 1982 calendar with the tile hand written in red pen. Each copy includes a double-sided 8x11' insert with lyrics, notes and photos.

Roughly two years after the release of their initial statement of intent, debut single “Toutpartout PT2” with its hypnotic ripples, Andi Haberl and Florian Zimmer aka Bella Wakame have successfully channeled the magic of a 2024 live recording (captured at Berlin’s Donau115 & Silent Green) into their first proper studio offering. You can hear inspirations ranging from Bitchin Bajas, Jeremiah Chiu to Groupshow (Jelinek, Leichtmann, Pekler), the hypnotic, intricate battle between form and freedom (the fun of momentary formlessness) continues to unfold over the course of 10 new tracks, featuring album guest Indra Dunis (Peaking Lights). Their first single "Shades of Nambei" was very much inspired by the wonderful band Spirit Fest and their song "Nambei".

You can either shorten the reins, or you can loosen them – and give things more slack. With Bella Wakame, it’s definitely the latter. Constantly challenging each other, they’re tapping a whole new energy. Tons of different energies.

Based on the impulsive, propulsive interplay between drums/sensory percussion (Andi Haberl) and modular synthesizer (Florian Zimmer), the frenzied, free-form results take listeners into completely new dimensions – sonic worlds that don’t really sound anything like their other musical outlets (The Notwist, SUN, Saroos, Driftmachine etc.).

Whereas most bands tend to notoriously overthink names/monikers, these guys obviously only care about the ecstatic push-and-pull that occurs once their instruments meet and overlap: it’s wildly explosive textures with a booming heart. Moving restlessly between motorik club, electro-acoustic jazz experiments, ambient excursions, and fast-paced instrumental anthems that seem to explode at the seams, one can immediately tell how much they enjoy the newfound freedom, the turbulent encounters born on the spur of the moment.

It’s all about a quick-paced exchange of friendly blows, a chasing of tails into ever-new musical terrains. Relying on just enough form for that wildness to blossom within, their just-in-time dashes continually unfold, refold, return, grow bigger – and leave you startled.

Following a strong debut, the Uruguayan label EviternoRecords returns with its second release, Teknovela, bringing together Molen and Nico Lampariello, two of the most talented poducers from the new generation of Uruguay’s electronic scene. Across four carefully crafted cuts, the EP expands the label’s vision through music that is equally instinctive and deliberate. Built around hypnotic movement, subtle tension and refined groove, Teknovela unfolds with patience, inviting listeners into an evolving journey where every detail serves the dancefloor without sacrificing depth or personality. The A-side finds Nico Lampariello exploring darker and more introspective terrain, weaving resonant basslines, shifting atmospheres and understated melodic touches into compositions that gradually reveal their emotional weight.

At The B-side Molen delivers two tracks driven by fluid rhythms, intricate spooky melodies and mysterious textures with a constant sense of forward motion. Rather than contrasting one another, both artists meet at the same destination from different directions. Together, the four tracks form a cohesive statement that captures the spirit of contemporary underground house and techno: immersive and built to leave a lasting impression.

Formed in Bahia in the late "60s, Novos Baianos became one of the most iconic groups in Brazilian music. Mixing samba, rock, choro, psychedelia, capoeira rhythms, and communal living, they embodied a new countercultural movement that reshaped MPB. Their albums, especially Acabou Chorare and Novos Baianos F.C., are now considered pillars of modern Brazilian music, inspiring generations of artists in Brazil and worldwide. Originally released in 1973, Novos Baianos F.C. captures the band"s communal lifestyle and fearless experimentation. After the success of Acabou Chorare, the group expanded their sound into a vibrant mix of samba, choro, folk, psychedelia, and electric street-soul. With the unmistakable chemistry of Baby Consuelo, Pepeu Gomes, Moraes Moreira, Paulinho Boca de Cantor,and Dadi, the album radiateswarmth and spontaneity. Recorded in the Baianos" legendary "football club" house, it stands as a joyful snapshot of Brazilian cultural freedom in the early "70s.

Secret South zeigt die Band auf ihrem dunkelsten, weitläufigsten Terrain: eine fiebrige Mischung aus Gothic Americana, Folk, Country-Anklängen und okkult schimmernder Schwermut. Bandoneon, Banjo, Hurdy-Gurdy und entrückter Gesang formen einen Sound, der fernab jeder Moderne wirkt und dennoch zeitlos bleibt - archaisch, intensiv und voller Sogkraft. Während die Stücke zwischen asketischer Kargheit und opulenter Weite pendeln, entfaltet sich die volle emotionale Wucht eines Albums, das bis heute Kultstatus besitzt.

Keith Freund’s music occupies a space where careful musicianship and homebrewed experimentation meet and shake hands. On “Window Left Open,” spacious melodies drift through dense fields of electronic activity: saxophone lines rise above buzzing circuitry, percussion flickers at the edges of the frame, and clustered glitch textures dart through the music like insects in tall summer grass. Every sound feels vividly animated, a charged part of the same mercurial ecosystem.

Freund’s talent lies in balancing warmth and unpredictability with remarkable ease. Patient motifs recall the exploratory spirit of early folktronica, while bit-reduced textures, degraded loops, and idiosyncratic synthesis techniques continually reshape the terrain beneath them. Rather than treating acoustic and electronic elements as opposing forces, Freund allows them to intermingle until distinctions dissolve, creating compositions that reward close listening while retaining immediate warmth. This record finds Freund working with a fully formed vocabulary that is truly his own, transforming glitch, melody, improvisation, and atmosphere into songs that are both fundamentally curious and disarmingly engaging.

Originally released in June 2009, The Ecstatic stands as a defining artistic statement from Mos Def (now known as yasiin bey) — a richly textured return to form that reaffirmed his status as one of hip-hop’s most adventurous and intellectually engaged voices. Arriving a decade after his celebrated debut Black on Both Sides, the album was widely regarded as his strongest work in years, earning near-universal praise for its lyrical breadth, eclectic production, and thematic ambition.

Musically, The Ecstatic weaves a global sonic tapestry shaped by an array of forward-thinking producers including Madlib, J Dilla, Oh No, Preservation, Mr. Flash, Chad Hugo (of The Neptunes), and Georgia Anne Muldrow. The resulting soundscape is both rooted in hip-hop tradition and unbound by genre, integrating elements of jazz, soul, Middle-Eastern inflection, and experimental sample work. Tracks like “Supermagic” and “Twilite Speedball” establish a vibrant, restless energy that mirrors the album’s expansive creative scope.

Lyrically, yasiin bey traverses personal, political, and philosophical terrain with characteristic incisiveness, confronting social inequality, Western imperialism, and questions of cultural identity with poetic urgency. Embracing risk and complexity rather than nostalgia, The Ecstatic remains a mature, deeply felt body of work whose ambition, depth, and enduring resonance have solidified its place as a standout entry in Mos Def’s catalog and in modern hip-hop history.

Edena Gardens unleash their most expansive work to date. Quintessence is structured in 4 parts as a Magnum Opus—the ancient alchemical process of transformation. But this is not a work of high fantasy. It is a seismic meditation. A study of deep time, weighted matter, and the crushing gravity of change. Quintessence is massive. 79+ minutes of tethered magnitude, carved into six sprawling tracks. The trio pushes further down into the void, discovering new dimensions. Each piece allow the form to stretch. To break its own boundaries. Shifting terrains and unpredictable geometry. The core remains unhurried: A slow, relentless, unabridged crawl. This sort of alchemy demands patience, allowing every sonic mutation to breathe, shift, and solidify in a new atmosphere.

Recorded by Jonas Munk (Causa Sui), the sound is rooted in a natural, anchored production, as if the band is right in front of you: Causa Sui drummer Jakob Skøtt drives the pulse and adds ghostly, sparse treatment to the mix. Nicklas Sørensen (Papir) weaves angular guitar geometry over the deep sediment of Martin Rude’s bass and baritone strings. Martin also supplies the original artwork, spreading across 4 panels (one for each vinyl side), coloured by Jakob Skøtt: A work in its own right. The final work is a massive, physical expanse: Their Quintessence.

‘THE GREATEST ROCKSTEADY ALBUM OF THE MILLENNIUM’ NARC - MAY 2022
4/5 REVIEW IN MOJO: “ONE OF THE MOST THRILLING ROCKSTEADY ALBUMS TO HAVE BEEN MADE SINCE THE GENRE EMERGED IN THE LATE 60's”

8/10 REVIEW IN UNCUT + TRACK ON COVERMOUNT: “A STUDIO-ONE INDEBTED, VINTAGE-SOUNDING STUNNER.”

The Frightnrs escort Daptone into the world of long-playing reggae with both the sweetest and the roughest record of the decade. This record will long be treasured by lovers of reggae, lovers of soul and lovers of love...

Crafted under the meticulous eye of black-belt reggae mastermind/producer Victor Axelrod (AKA Ticklah), Nothing More to Say is a rocksteady masterpiece the likes of which has not reared it’s head since the golden era of Studio One. However, you’ll find no imitation here - none of the faux-jamaican cliches of lesser reggae bands. Like all things Daptone, this record is above all soulful and honest.

With the exception of two soul covers (both from the Daptone catalog: Bob & Gene’s "Gotta Find a Way” and Saun and Starr’s “Gonna Make Time”,) the record is populated by original compositions of the highest order.

They are simply great songs, and though their treatment here is masterful, each one of them has the melodic and lyrical substance to hold it’s own in any genre. “Till Then” invokes the coquettish hyper-rhymes of top-form Smokey Robinson, while “Hey Brother” sounds like it fell off the desk of Gamble and Huff, and “Purple” defies any comparison at all.

From the first cracking snares of “All My Tears” through the final pulsing echoes of “Dispute,” the murderous rhythms of Rich Terrana (drums,) and brothers Preet and Chuck Patel (bass and piano, respectively) can be heard chunking mercilessly towards oblivion as Dan Klein pours his endearing poetry over the top like some
otherworldy falsetto potion.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

Channeling his trademark style of driving techno and robotic rhythms, Phase Fatale makes his Dekmantel UFO series debut, upping the ante with his forward cutting production methods. His first solo release in 2 years, the Berlin-based DJ, Producer and Label owner hotwires his signature wall of sound with precise, hypnotic magnetism and dystopian textures.

A key protagonist in Techno’s lexicon as a regular in the booth at ∄ in Kyiv and with residencies at queer collective Merge in New York, alongside institutions Berghain and Khidi. The New York native’s unflinching mutualism of past and present comes forward in his introspective production style of textural waves and melancholic narrative, welded together by true techno formation. A deep referential lens cutting through layers of whirling cybernetics form his sonic coil, surrendering the listener into dissociative euphoria.

Underpinned by a focus on bass heavy techno, the 4-track EP circulates an ebb and flow of surrealist, atmospherics and whirring futuristic frequencies. Hypnosis inducing polyrhythmic analog sequences, flesh-out the EP’s core whilst the track progression traverses over a terrain of experimental cuts, driving beats, and oscillating sonic shrapnel. A culmination of influences spanning techno born out of Birmingham and Detroit alike form an architecture of stripped back electronics alongside soulful melodies, as well as references to acid house, post-punk and shoegaze. The title track ‘Off Desire’ a nod to longtime friend and collaborator the late Silent Servant, evokes a dream like crescendo between David Lynch and the sci-fi body tech of David Cronenberg, electric stabbing beats are offset by wistful guitar riffs and the digital rain of ethereal distorted vocals as if echoes from the void.

and the second chapter in an ongoing improvisational document recorded inside one of Santa Cruz de Tenerife’s abandoned oil tanks.

Gaf & The Love Supreme Arkestra work outside conventional studio frameworks. Their music emerges from extended improvisation sessions that unfold sporadically, sometimes over several days. Built around drums, guitar, bass, modular synthesis and samplers, and expanded with vibraphone and winds (flutes, saxophone, Herreño whistle), the group continues to move between jazz, psychedelic rock and free-form experimental composition.

While Ganzfeld drew from the misty northern coast of Isla Baja, Retiro Espiritual turns toward Taganana, one of Tenerife’s most remote regions. Its isolation, Atlantic exposure and volcanic terrain inform the record’s pace and focus. The title reflects this shift: a space for retreat, collective creation and suspended time.

Sonically, Retiro Espiritual leans warmer and more reflective. Flutes drift over slow grooves, extended jams unfold patiently, and traces of 70s spiritual jazz surface throughout. The experimental core remains, now shaped by repetition, space and a calmer, sunlit atmosphere.

Another autonomous transmission from a band committed to ritual, territory and long-form collective improvisation at the edge of the Atlantic.
—
Recorded live in 2020 in Tenerife Canary Islands
Produced by Mladen Kurajica
Mixed by Jorge Lozano
Master by Daniel García
Artwork Felipe González Cabezas

Es gibt Kooperationen, die sich wie ein Kunstgriff anfühlen, und dann gibt es solche, die sich anfühlen wie die Wärme der Sommersonne an einem Sonntag. ,Helado Tropical", das gemeinsame Debütalbum von Helado Negro und Reyna Tropical, setzt diese ungezwungene, sonnenverwöhnte Zärtlichkeit klanglich um. Es begann weniger mit einem Plan als vielmehr mit einer Begegnung: Zwei Künstler, die sich mit ähnlichen Fragen rund um Sprache, Identität und Musik beschäftigten, landeten schließlich im selben Raum. Was folgte, war weniger ein traditioneller Schreibprozess als vielmehr eine gemeinsame Entfaltung - ein instinktiver, intensiver Austausch, der sich über Geografien, Zeitzonen und Seinszustände erstreckte. Das Duo traf sich erstmals im Juni 2024 in North Carolina, zusammengebracht durch einen gemeinsamen Freund und eine lockere Einladung, Zeit im Studio zu verbringen. Was eine kurze Session hätte sein können, entwickelte sich zu etwas, das eher einem dreitägigen Übernachtungsbesuch glich - zu gleichen Teilen Gespräch, Neugier und kreatives Wagnis. Reyna Tropical, die an enge Kooperationen gewöhnt war, betrat neues kreatives Terrain, während Helado Negro eine ähnliche Neugier und Fluidität mitbrachte. Was dabei entstand, war unmittelbar: Anstatt sich langsam an die Zusammenarbeit heranzutasten, wurden die beiden von ihr vorangetrieben - sie schufen Songs in Echtzeit und reagierten auf die Instinkte des anderen, ohne diese übermäßig zu erklären. Es gab keine starre Rollenverteilung. Der eine brachte eine Idee ein, der andere antwortete darauf. Eine Melodie suggerierte einen Rhythmus; ein Rhythmus formte einen Text neu. Auf ,Helado Tropical" ist eine spürbare Abwesenheit von Zwängen zu bemerken: nicht nur musikalisch, sondern auch konzeptionell. Beide Künstler teilen einen langjährigen Widerstand gegen die Erwartungen, die oft an lateinamerikanische Musik gestellt werden: wie sie klingen sollte, wie sie sich anfühlen sollte, welche Geschichten sie erzählen sollte. Wie auch in ihrer Solokarriere schaffen diese beiden Künstler in diesem Projekt Raum für etwas Fließenderes und Persönlicheres.

[k] C3 | DJ Hooligan– Sueno Futuro (Wake Up And Dream) [pink Clouds Mix]

A definitive archival release documenting the formative years of one of Detroit techno’s most influential acts. Spanning nearly a decade of visionary production, The Collective 1989–1998 Deluxe Edition captures Octave One at their most raw, soulful, experimental, and uncompromising.

Curated from the groundbreaking early period of the Burden brothers’ output, this deluxe collection traces the evolution of Octave One’s unmistakable sound from deep underground machine funk and futuristic rhythm science to emotionally charged Detroit techno classics that continue to shape dance floors worldwide.

This special collector’s edition has been fully remastered and expanded for 430West Records, featuring restored audio, deluxe packaging, and essential selections from a pivotal era in independent electronic music history.

More than a retrospective, The Collective 1989–1998 stands as a document of Detroit innovation: fearless, mechanical, human, and timeless.

Essential for collectors, DJs, and anyone serious about the foundations of techno.

Originally self-released in 2023, Stella Kola, the debut album from Beverly Ketch (Jow Jow, Weeping Bong Band) and Robert Thomas (Sunburned Hand of the Man, Dalthom), now returns in a renewed edition—bringing wider attention to a record that already felt like a quietly essential artifact from the moment it first appeared.

Given the pair’s respective roots—and the presence of collaborators drawn from across the Northeast experimental underground—one might expect “a brutal blast of acid swirl.” Instead, what emerges is something far more unexpected. The album is “steeped, not in noise and dissonance, but in the fragrant, captivating folk of Linda Perhacs, Judee Sill, Karen Dalton, and Bridget St John.”

From the opening moments, especially on “Rosa,” the record reveals its core sensibility: “a ballad that digs deep into the psychedelic-folk tradition until it takes root in a freshly sporous permaculture.” What follows is a set of songs that feel both carefully assembled and organically grown—delicate structures held together by a wide circle of contributing musicians, including Wednesday Knudsen (flute), P.G. Six (harp, guitars, keys), Gary War (synth), Jen Gellineau (viola, violin), Willie Lane, L. Gray, and others.

Rather than functioning as studio additions, these collaborators form a genuine collective presence. “The family affair feeds into the album’s charms,” and the feeling is unmistakably communal. Like many of the ‘60s folk records it echoes, Stella Kola carries “the feeling of community and camaraderie” at its core, shaping a warmth that runs through the entire release.

The album’s emotional palette leans toward a quiet, persistent melancholy: “the best records from that era also carried with them an inherent sadness and Stella Kola’s songs wash over the listener with a beautiful woe.” Its sound edges into the terrain of Fairport Convention and Pentangle, with references to “Beggar’s, Kings, Dark Damsels, and Tarot,” yet never settles into revivalism. Instead, Ketch and Thomas extend the tradition outward, refracting it through their own distinctly American, underground language.

As one early description of the album notes, “the masterful restraint of ‘Rosa’ and the rest of Stella Kola’s shimmering debut evokes Anne Briggs, C.O.B., Pentangle and similar ancestors that knew the best way to honor traditions was to widen the heritage even further.”

Even among a prolific and unpredictable network of underground musicians, Stella Kola stands apart. “It’s early in the year, but it’s hard to see an album, especially a debut, capturing the heart as hard as this one.” With its return in reissue form, the album reasserts itself not just as a hidden gem, but as an essential document of contemporary folk experimentation—an intimate, collective work that continues to unfold with time.

Detroit producer, Shawescape Renegade, comes to Tresor Records with Exoframe, a five-track EP of pure techno and electro, including a remix by Arpanet.
As with so many forerunners and peers in the Detroit techno world, Shawescape Renegade, is a deep thinking and a world-building story teller and Exoframe uses the traditional sci-fi narrative to explore recent thought Shaw has had on the potential hidden costs of technological
evolution: what happens when overspecialisation leads to a dead end; when inflexibility means a return to the old forms becomes difficult.
The EP opens with 78 Light Years From Earth, an effects-laden slab of electro that pulls the percussion into other dimensions. Mechanus 9 brings a techno edge before Terraformers Warning unleashes a bass-driven beast.
A fast-paced remodel of Terraformer’s Warning from Gerald Donald’s Arpanet project follows, before the EP is closed out with another bassline-forward track, Ignition One, an updated version of the Shawescape cut that soundtracked the section of the Black To Techno
documentary focussed on the Detroit’s Jit dance scene. The strong symbiosis between Jit and Techno is a foundational part of Detroit’s culture and a community tie and suggests that while technology may lead to stagnation, the cultural muscle memory offers a path back to
authenticity.
In a thoughtful nod to the praxis of the DJ, the vinyl versions of A1 & B1 are five BPM slower than the digital, moving the music to between 128BPM and 151BPM on a standard Technics turntable and opening it up for play in a greater range of club environs.
It’s this deep respect for the artistry and traditions of Detroit’s longstanding music and dance scenes that mark Shawescape Renegade out as one of the true inheritors of the city’s heritage.

Das neue Projekt von Joe Lovano trägt den programmatischen Namen Paramount Quartet – und tatsächlich
versteht der Saxofonist diese Formation als künstlerischen Meilenstein. „Mit diesem Quartett sind wir an
einem einzigartigen Ort angekommen“, erklärt Lovano. „Es ist etwas ganz Besonderes, etwas Neues. Und
diese ‚cats‘, sie spielen mit einem globalen Bewusstsein.“ Zu diesen „cats“ zählen der Gitarrist Julian Lage,
der Bassist Asante Santi Debriano sowie der Schlagzeuger Will Calhoun, der auch durch seine Arbeit mit
der Rockband Living Colour bekannt wurde. Gemeinsam schlagen sie ein neues, abenteuerliches Kapitel
in Lovanos weit gespanntem Œuvre auf. Anlässlich der Tournee, die der Aufnahme vorausging, würdigte
die Financial Times das Konzert in London mit den Worten: „Lovanos jüngstes Projekt, das Paramount
Quartet, fügt einem modernistischen Kern Anklänge von Americana hinzu und erkundet dieses Terrain mit
Freiheit, Fokus und Feuer.“ Die klangliche Palette des Albums ist ebenso facettenreich wie die beteiligten
Musiker unterschiedlicher Generationen: kraftvoll und extrovertiert in manchen Momenten, intim und
zart in anderen. Neben Eigenkompositionen Lovanos finden sich eindrucksvolle Interpretationen von „Lady
Day“ – einer Hommage von Wayne Shorter an Billie Holiday – sowie von „First Song“ des Bassisten Charlie
Haden. Aufgenommen wurde das Album im Februar 2025 in Südfrankreich, produziert von Manfred Eicher.

London experimental spoken word and electronics duo BAG land on Phantom Limb with mesmerising new album This House is a Body, marrying visceral poetry with exploratory production to achieve beguiling, occasionally screwy and occasionally dreamy sonics.

“This album functions as a floor plan, a house in itself, collecting and containing the ecosystems of multiple rooms,” write BAG - Canadian artist and poet Jody DeSchutter and London producer Daniel Allison. “The roles we play can be defined by the room we are in; and it can be near impossible to tell what room we are in without looking from outside. This album maps out a number of rooms which hold such relations, memories, or experiences and builds them all into a single house, a single body.” Formed from Allison’s headspinning, depth-mining production for synthesis, field recording, and acoustic instrumentation, and DeSchutter’s lysergic and prophetic spoken word, the palette of This House is a Body can turn on a dime from claustrophobia and dread to hyperreal dream sequence, illuminated in sunstreamed glory in places and dripping with basement effluvia in others. Throughout, words, meaning, and imagery all dissolve into an architecture of alternately familiar and unknowable sound.

In Sheep’s Clothing announces the long-awaited vinyl pressing of Marc Leclair’s beloved 2005 album Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes. The album will also be available on streaming for the first time via Community Music Group.

For years after Marc Leclair released Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes, he heard from listeners who had lived with the record in an unusually intimate way. Many described how the music became part of the emotional landscape of the months leading to birth. “I never expected that,” Leclair says. “Many women told me they listened to the record throughout their pregnancies. They said it made a real difference, that it helped them. It became more than just a record.”

First issued on CD in the early 2000s, Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes (Music for Three Pregnant Women) now returns in a new edition from In Sheep’s Clothing Hi-Fi, appearing on vinyl for the first time as a double LP. The record is being pressed in Detroit at Archer Record Pressing, the historic plant behind deep-groove classics by Juan Atkins, Kevin Saunderson, Underground Resistance, UR’s Jeff Mills, and J Dilla.

Listeners who know the Montreal-based Leclair through his better-known work as Akufen might be surprised by the tone here. During the same years he was shaping the intricate micro-sampling tracks that made Akufen a cult figure on labels including Perlon, Force Inc. and Trapez, Leclair was quietly developing this far more personal project. The meticulous craftsmanship remained the same, though the focus shifted from the hyper-detailed cut-up rhythms of his dance records toward something slower and more atmospheric. “I always compare my work to a jeweler,” Leclair says. “It’s really very precise. I’m a bit of a detail freak. I can spend hours or days on just one phrase in one song. Everything has to be perfectly put together.”

The project began almost accidentally. A few members of Leclair’s circle became pregnant nearly simultaneously, including one who had long believed she couldn’t conceive. The first track he recorded for the project wasn’t meant to advance a larger concept, he says. “It was meant to highlight the fact that three of my closest friends became pregnant at exactly the same time.”

Leclair was already a father with a three-year-old daughter, so the emotional terrain of early parenthood was familiar. Gradually the idea expanded. “I began thinking, why not make a whole album that celebrates this and also follows the entire pregnancy, the nine months,” he says. The music developed piece by piece, including a track originally commissioned by the Berlin experimental duo Rechenzentrum that would later become the album’s opening movement.

Nearly seven years passed between the first composition and the finished album, and the music mirrors the strange arithmetic of pregnancy itself. What begins as a single idea multiplies outward, sounds layering and branching until the album feels less like a sequence of compositions than a living process unfolding in time. “I work very slowly,” Leclair says. “Everything has to be something I’m completely behind. I never want to rush anything. I want things to come naturally.” Across its 72 minutes, the album blossoms with the patience of a long meditation on time, growth and emergence.

When Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes first appeared via Mutek, it circulated quietly but steadily. Critics who discovered it later recognized its unusual scope. In a 2006 Pitchfork review, Mark Richardson gave the record an 8.1, calling “150e Jour” “an unfailingly gorgeous and tightly sequenced quilt of guitar and piano samples reminiscent of Tangerine Dream,” and describing “85e Jour” as infused with “viscous pop ambient drift, the gauzy synth pads ebbing and flowing with rhythm.” Boomkat described the album as “a majestic opus from a producer that's always promised so much — here delving into a panoramic construction of almost visibly radiant music that works so beautifully through each and every second of its 72 minute lifespan.”

The new In Sheep’s Clothing Hi-Fi edition finally presents the record in the format Leclair long imagined. “I always thought that record deserved a vinyl edition,” he says. Spread across two LPs, the music now has room to unfold at its natural pace. More than twenty years after it first appeared, Musique pour 3 femmes enceintes remains what it was from the start: a carefully shaped meditation on transformation and the quiet miracle of life beginning.

On his fourth solo album, and debut work for Nick Klein's Psychic Liberation imprint, Henrik Munkeby Nørstebø presents »Faint Light Blackens«, a negotiation between the atomized instrumentation of the solo trombone is pushed towards a full range wall of sound over the concise sprawl of seven distinct acts on two sides of a vinyl record.

The seven acts that make up the album were developed specifically for recording within Emanuel Vigeland’s »Tomba Emmanuelle«. The fresco within the mausoleum anchors themes of existential weight, ripe with weighted imagery of love, birth, and death. The solemn space is a cavernous acoustic terrain wherein reverberant reverie makes it almost impossible to speak aloud, let alone sing through horn and electronics. This chamber's expanse is baked into the compositional directions employed on »Faint Light Blackens«.

Experientially, the record was produced in a long form performance gesture, with no overdubs. While edited to fit the record format, no additional post production coloring took place. Here Nørstebø shines as an instrumentalist, wherein the symbiosis of the site specific architecture and his sound sources are synced. At once musing and brooding, the gamut of emotive sonic landscapes is at play for a fully dynamic listening experience. The territory in Nørstebø’s vocabulary through interplay with the mausoleum is not vaulted , unlike Vigeland’s urn’ed ashes. On »Faint Light Blackens«, the spirit takes bound beyond the cavern and reanimates the listeners stereo alters for a holistic listening experience of perfectly challenging electroacoustic endeavors.

Henrik Munkeby Nørstebø – acoustic & amplified trombone, monotron, feedback, sound files.
Recorded by Espen Reinertsen October 10. and 11. 2023 in Tomba Emmanuelle, Oslo Norway.
Cover Photos and mix by Henrik Munkeby Nørstebø
Mastered by Helge Sten (Deathprod) at Audio Virus Lab

Norwegian entity Misotheist returns with its fourth full-length album De Pinte, released via Terratur Possessions. Expanding beyond the trio-format of previous works, the record unfolds across four compositions spanning just over forty minutes, culminating in a monumental twenty-plus-minute title track.

With Coalescence, The Third Room brings together artists from distinct yet interconnected techno lineages, united by a shared understanding of the music as both physical and introspective. Rather than staging contrasts, the EP focuses on convergence, where propulsion, atmosphere and restraint fold into a coherent whole. Rene Wise & Ignez open the release with Anjos, pairing Wise's tactile, percussive pressure with Ignez's expansive, oceanic pads. The result sits at the intersection of functional drive and elevated, almost devotional space, reflecting a new generation's approach to techno as both tool and inner landscape. Norbak's remix draws the track further inward, deepening its hypnotic pull and extending its energy into a more meditative, slow-burning form. On the B-side, Claudio PRC & Luigi Tozzi present Onirica, a deeply restrained and immersive composition rooted in atmosphere, spatial detail and subtle psychedelia. Unfolding with patience, it rewards attentive listening and long-form dancefloor contexts. Markus Suckut closes the EP by reducing Onirica to its bare essentials, applying his signature economy and precision to heighten tension and focus. Coalescence reflects The Third Room's vision of techno as a shared terrain, where different voices and generations meet, align and quietly reinforce one another.

Cathartic avant-rock, literate DIY folk & experimental composition exploring displacement, love, climate change, belonging & the places we call home - RIYL Jim O’Rourke, Richard Youngs, This Heat, Richard Dawson, Flying Nun. ‘Real Home’ is the new album by the Manchester-born, London-based artist Kiran Leonard. His sixth album proper (not including innumerable tour-only CD-Rs and short-run cassettes), since his precocious debut in 2013, ‘Real Home’ finds Leonard invigorated by inspiration and experience, making passionate, literate, and mercurial music that explores displacement, love, memory, climate change, connections to home and more. Encompassing songs recorded after moving to South London, ‘Real Home’ reflects on ideas of belonging and domesticity through folkloric, stream-of-consciousness songwriting. Across nine tracks, Leonard traces lived impressions of the household and the city, expressing sentiments of dislocation, alienation and stasis, but contentment too. Infusing the avant-rock effervescence, terraced dynamics and visionary lyricism of his music with what he defines as a greater sense of openness, Leonard is as versatile, fervent and imaginative as ever on ‘Real Home’, yet his music is somehow more intimate, affecting, and acutely expressive. Shaped by dual considerations of simplicity and formalism, ‘Real Home’ is by turns beautiful, allusive, and ruminative, an album on which Leonard considers what his songs have resembled in the past and what they mean now. In recent years, Leonard has crafted eloquent chamber music inspired by the likes of James Joyce and Clarice Lispector (‘Derevaun Seraun’), responded to contemporary politics and communication breakdown in the digital age (‘Western Culture’), and compiled solo works and ensemble recordings for a longform ode to Jonas Mekas and to one of Leonard’s enduring themes; home (‘Trespass On Foot’). On ‘Real Home’, Leonard reiterates this abiding thematic focus yet ascends to new, different heights, in music of cathartic delicacy and dissonance where all the myriad dimensions of his work to date seem to crystallize. There are sinuous songs about struggle and defying the pace of city life through drift and diversion (‘Pass Between Houses’), stirring songs of intense feeling and crescendo, described as a form of speculative detective fiction (‘Theatre for Change’). There are touching solo piano ballads (the title track), symbolic contentions with carbon capture and climate change (‘Utopia of Bog’), modes of experimental minimalism (‘Void Attentive’), and other profuse feats of compositional range, embroidered with wild tendrils of narrative and lyrical depth. A record to pore over, and get lost in. Exemplifying the vast aesthetic scope of Leonard’s music, lead single ‘My Love, Let’s Take The Stage Tonight’ is inspired by country lodestar Hank Williams, Russian poetry and a late period love poem by William Carlos Williams. Yet for Leonard, the song signals a sense of accessible materiality, and is the product of a more linear approach to writing songs: “My imitation of the great Hank Williams, in spirit if not in substance…This is one of the best efforts on Real Home at a song-as-object. Looking at it now I realise I was trying to write a song that made itself known as a song to the listener, and I wonder whether that’s crucial if you want a song to transcend its context. And that this is either accomplished through a total openness – by being inviting, by laying the tricks of the song out plain to see, as Williams and his many ghostwriters did so well – or by adopting a knowing aloofness, positioning oneself against the listener but letting it be known that that’s what it’s doing. In this song I try both, but mostly the former: as in, I wanted to write a song where every line follows on from the next.” Imbuing the endlessly elaborate and inventive qualities of his music with a newfound streak of candid, clear-cut melodicism, Leonard has reached a special place in his artistry, on a record that feels familial, and expresses closeness. Assembled with affiliates including Lauren Auder, Otto Willberg, Jasper Llewellyn (caroline), Tom Hardwick-Allan (Shovel Dance Collective), Magda McLean (caroline, The Umlauts), Alex Mckenzie (caroline, Shovel Dance Collective), Isabelle Thorn (Dear Laika) & more, the recording process had a significant influence on the subject matter of ‘Real Home’, in sessions defined by close-knit camaraderie and artistic eccentricity: “The theme of the home obviously recurs throughout the record; the album was mostly recorded in domestic spaces with friends, and the name of the album is Real Home. I like the qualifier ‘real’, like you’re getting past the cloak of the word and towards the thing-itself…also nearly all the percussion in this record was recorded on items from my dad’s shed (jam jars, sandpaper, blocks of wood, etc). Real home record!” ‘Real Home’, like anything by Kiran Leonard, is a record of dazzling multiplicity. Yet it’s a companionable prospect with a central premise; a collection of songs where listeners old and new can find a home. An album led by a scene; of Leonard standing at the threshold, ready to welcome you inside. “Exceptional songs that linger” - The Guardian // “An autodidact of amazing talent & energy” – Pitchfork // “A ridiculous amount of talent…confrontational, celebratory, provocative or perverse – he manages all of these emotions & more” - The Quietus /

Onna Last Live 1983 includes the final performance by the original line-up of Onna, the psych-rock project of revered Japanese manga artist, Keizo Miyanishi. Onna’s legend has largely rested, until now, on one self-released and self-titled seven-inch from 1983. Reissued by Holy Mountain in 2009, its rediscovery, along with several archival live and studio sets that leaked out across the 2000s, signalled to a wider audience the power of Miyanishi’s strikingly hypnotic songwriting. With Onna Last Live 1983, though, we hear the group’s perfect line-up performing at its peak.

While Miyanishi was the core member and conceptualist of Onna, the other members of the group would also go on to make significant contributions to the Japanese underground. Guitarist Michio Kurihara would eventually be known for his membership of YBO2, Ghost and White Heaven, and collaborations with the likes of Boris and Damon & Naomi. Drummer Ken Matsutani formed Marble Sheep & The Run-Down Sun’s Children and The Mickey Guitar Band, while also running the Captain Trip label. Joined by the late bass player Yasui Yutaka, to whom the album is dedicated, this quartet only performed live in 1983; the live set here was recorded at Silver Elephant.

It’s a different line-up to the Onna duo that’s documented on their single. After Miyanishi and fellow manga artist Mafuyu Hiroki recorded that material, Miyanishi decided he wanted to start playing gigs; Hiroki left, and Kurihara, Matsutani and Yutaka joined soon after. This line-up allowed Miyanishi to significantly expand Onna’s powers, leading to a sound that Kurihara once described to Ptolemaic Terrascope magazine as “repetitive and heavy, yet quite orthodox.”

The songs here are simple yet deeply effective in their repetitive power, generally revolving around two or three simply strummed chords for guitar. Bass and drums repeatedly lock into mantra-like grooves as Kurihara’s guitar scales the walls, with Miyanishi’s consumptive moans and sighs sent torquing through FX. The cumulative effect of the seven songs here is very heavy indeed; if the prologue “Always…” drifts beautifully through five minutes of placid, beseeching melancholy, the epilogue, “Never Seen A Light Like This”, spirals out into sixteen minutes of glazed-over psych-rock, completely monomaniacal and thrilling in its slow-motion tumult.

Throughout, you can hear Miyanishi and co. reaching for something ineffable, something beyond and between the notes. It’s a phenomenal performance; it’s also no surprise that the group disintegrated after this show, given its intensity. Matsutani and Yutaka left after the Silver Elephant show, with Miyanishi and Kurihara continuing through the first half of 1984 firstly as a duo, and then a trio with new drummer Yoshiki Ueonyama. Kurihara left soon after. But Onna Last Live 1983 is proof plenty of the powers of the original Onna quartet, sending their Rallizes/Velvets dream-mantras off into darkened, stormy skies.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

Bristol's Tara Clerkin Trio return to World of Echo and the EP format for a five song collection of quixotic, emotional redolence. But do not mistake their absence for inertia. If their musical output has been a little sparse during those in-between years, limited to a few solo ventures and an astonishing ten minute long piece as a trio, their time has otherwise been richly spent: continuous writing and recording, extensive live performances across Europe and Japan, a cultivation of local and more far-flung artistic connections (musical and otherwise), and a monthly NTS show that, through the voice of others, speaks most obviously to their own unorthodox interests. It's the conflux of that winding activity that leads indirectly to On The Turning Ground, 26 minutes of probing, thoughtful composition that draws from no one specific source. Their inspirations might be centreless, but the trio still possess a very obvious anchor in the form of their hometown. Bristol stands as a city of multitudes, heterogenous and vibrant in such a way as to allow it to renew and remake time and again. Tara Clerkin Trio drink from that same well, duly reflecting a rich musical heritage built on fwd-facing electronic subcultures and experimental urges.

As such, On The Turning Ground finds them subject to their own subtle internal evolution, the pervasive sense that you've caught them mid-bloom, on their way to becoming but never anything but themselves. The two instrumental pieces that bookend the EP stand as a perfect case in point, displaying an increasing mastery of compositional space. Pensive and restrained, 'Brigstow' and 'Once Around' both emanate an interstitial quality that's not so much after- as in-between-hours, miniature dub-folk symphonies held together by the kind of tacit understanding that remains the preserve of only the closest of family units. If those two tracks are shaped by a sense of shifting temporality, then the three vocal-led pieces that comprise the record's core feel like a gentle ossifying of aesthetic into something approaching their own unique form of avant-pop. 'Pop' is, of course, a broadly subjective concept, but there's no avoiding the overt sparkling melodicism of songs like 'Marble Walls' and 'The Turning Ground', undeniable re-directions of that late 90s impulse to bend pop sensibilities into off-centre terrain, to render the familiar new again. This is what Tara Clerkin Trio do, gently pulling the ground from under your feet, turning you to face something you'd not quite seen before. To view the world as they do: sideways, sometimes, all of the time.

Geoglyph is the new duo project by Alohn and Khey Mysterio, a convergence of two deeply singular practices into a single subterranean signal. Their debut album arrives as the eighth reference on Organic Signs, not as a collection of tracks but as a carved artifact: six inscriptions pressed into vinyl, mapping a sonic territory where time, rhythm and texture are no longer linear, but layered like geological memory.

Through Geoglyph, Alohn and Khey Mysterio convey a message from below, or beyond. A pulse engraved from forgotten times in the basement of reality, reactivated by abyssal basses, vibrating layers and fractured textures. Exhumed from the subterranean strata where psychedelic dub, mineral techno and fractal dubstep fuse into raw energy, their music becomes a point of contact: every beat, every silence, every oscillation acting as a coordinate toward another perception. What unfolds is not simply sound design, but an invocation, rhythms as sigils, timbre as gnosis, signals that seem to arrive already charged with intention.

Across the album, Alohn’s guitar notes fall like cascades through the mix, dissolving at times into controlled feedback and crystallizing into melodic fragments that hover between tension and release. These organic gestures are interwoven with Khey Mysterio’s dense low-end architectures and rhythmic frameworks, creating a constantly shifting terrain: from weightless transmissions and ritualistic voices to moments of overwhelming propulsion where the music suddenly breaks open with tectonic force. The record moves fluidly between meditative suspension and explosive motion, never settling into a single state for long.

A strong undercurrent of what has come to be known as “druidstep” runs through the album, a term coined within the 95 Open Tabs universe to describe a form of dubstep untethered from genre convention, rooted instead in bass as ritual, in groove as invocation. Here it meets dub-techno pulse, psychedelic echoes and high-velocity 4×4 pressure, drawing subtle influence from underground bass cultures without ever becoming referential. The result is a body of work that feels both ancient and forward-leaning, cyclical rather than linear: a living geoglyph that reveals different meanings depending on how (and where) it is read.

As the final movement accelerates into its closing phase, the album releases its energy outward, with frequencies stretched toward their limits, leaving behind the trace of a completed ceremony. In this sense, Geoglyph’s debut stands as a defining moment within the Organic Signs continuum: a record that unfolds rather than explains, offering an experience to be entered, absorbed, and carried. With this release, the label continues to explore new sonic spaces, evolving and expanding while giving deeper meaning to its own essence. A message from beneath the surface, waiting for those willing to tune in.

Más de este género

“Tectonic” is a concise portrait of SIMON BERZ’s geological sound explorations across continents over the last 15 years: drums, electronics, and a set of electronically manipulated basalt stones from Iceland.

SIMON BERZ is a transdisciplinary drummer, sound artist, and music educator based in Switzerland and Berlin. Working at the intersection of improvised music, sound art, and performance, and deliberately crossing boundaries between disciplines, his aesthetics are shaped by a sustained engagement with natural materials, particularly stone, and their sonic transformation through electronic manipulation. Beyond his performance work, BERZ founded BADABUM as an art label and a music school.

For the last 30 years, BERZ has been performing in Japan, China, Russia, the USA, Cuba, Iceland, Turkey, and across Europe. He has collaborated with artists including BILL LASWELL,BABY SOMMER, DAMO SUZUKI (CAN), JAMES TURRELL, JIMI TENOR, JOHN SINGLAIR, JOJO MAYER (NERVE), KONDO TOSHINORI, KIDD JORDAN, LAUREN NEWTON, LEE “SCRATCH“ PERRY, MAURO PAWLOWSKI (dEUS), NILS PETTER MOLVÆR, NIKI GLASPIE, NORBERT MÖSLANG, PAUL LOWENS, PFADFINDEREI, ROB MAZUREK, SKÚLI SVERRISSON, and he was the live drummer for APPARAT. As BERZ understands artistic practice as energy emerging from nature and through dialogue with people, his recorded output is intentionally selective, with one highlight being “Beats versus Breath” with KONDO and LASWELL (2023). Alongside a regular drumkit and electronics, he has developed his own instruments such as the “Lithophon” in which resonating stones are turned into amplified sound through water drops, and “Tectonic”, a set of Icelandic basalt stones shaped through electronic manipulation. These self- built instruments form the material basis for his performances, installations, and sound recordings.

“Tectonic” is also the title of BERZ’s latest work: a summary of his geological sound explorations across continents. From Iceland to Indonesia and Bali, from New Orleans to China, in caves and at shores, BERZ carried his millions-of-years-old basalt stones as both instrument and collaborator. On Java, he met Baron, a builder of stone gamelan instruments. At the Pacitan Tabuhan Cave (Indonesia) he performed with MISBACH BILOK and WUKIR SURYADI (SENYAWA) who work with corals as instruments. BERZ brought these encounters and “field recordings” to the Stöðvarfjörður studio in Iceland, where he recorded with his “Tectonic” set-up, drums, and electronics. The music was later mixed in Berlin by DIRK DRESSELHAUS (SCHNEIDER TM). The resulting album moves from club-driven tracks to ambient passages, from gamelan-inspired textures to HipHop-like beat patterns. It resists easy categorization while staying direct and physical in its impact.

Für Chantal Michelle ist das Komponieren von Musik wie eine Art Choreografie. In surrealen Klangwelten verbinden sich verschiedene Töne miteinander - sie bewegen sich zusammen und entfernen sich dann wieder voneinander - in einem Prozess, der sich ständig im Hörfeld wiederholt. Diese sich ständig verändernde Konstellation zeigt, wie zerbrechlich und veränderlich Wahrnehmung sein kann, ein Thema, das in Michelles Arbeit immer wieder auftaucht. Michelle, die schon früh eine Tanzausbildung absolvierte, bringt eine ausgeprägte räumliche Sensibilität in ihre Arbeit ein: ein intuitives Verständnis dafür, wie Formen koexistieren und sich durch drei Dimensionen bewegen, sowie eine Wertschätzung für die Schönheit, die sich in ungewöhnlichen Gegenüberstellungen von Materialien und Ideen findet. Seit sie 2021 ihre Solokarriere gestartet hat, hat sie internationale Anerkennung für ihre geduldigen, akribischen Aufnahmen bekommen, die oft zusammen mit Installationen, Mehrkanalkompositionen und Klangskulpturen entstehen. Innerhalb dieser subtil verwirrenden Klangarchitekturen können neue Beziehungen entstehen, neue Grenzen gezogen werden, und die Zuhörer werden zu einer Erfahrung von Zeit eingeladen, die sich der Linearität widersetzt. All Things Might Spill, Michelles erstes Album für Shelter Press, ist eine Auseinandersetzung mit anhaltender Spannung und der mysteriösen Erfahrung der Zeitdehnung in den Momenten kurz vor einem Bruch oder Zusammenbruch. Die Musik bewegt sich in einem Raum der Instabilität, und obwohl sie durchgehende Töne und definierte melodische Phrasen verwendet, herrscht eine Atmosphäre der Unentschlossenheit - wie ein Moment der Unruhe, der auf unbestimmte Zeit in der Schwebe bleibt. Ein Großteil des Albums wurde in den Wintermonaten 2024 in Berlin aufgenommen, wobei viele frühe Morgenstunden in einem Raum subtiler Unruhe verbracht wurden. Man sagt, dass Licht in die Dunkelheit eindringt, und diese Übergangszeit, die von Erwartungen geprägt ist, ist in der Musik zu hören. In ,Presence of Border" winden und verflechten sich nebulöse Stimmen, während sie über mehrdeutigen Harmonien schweben, die sich in unendliche Ferne zu erstrecken scheinen. Die beiden kurzen Stücke ,Magnetic Field I" und ,Magnetic Field II" enthalten bearbeitete Aufnahmen einer Tromba Marina, gespielt von der argentinischen Klangkünstlerin Alma Laprida. Die Gegenüberstellung von kratzigen Tönen und hauchzarten Obertönen erzeugt tamburaähnliche Drones, die den Zuhörer in einen schwer fassbaren Mittelpunkt ziehen. Später auf dem Album gibt es in ,Drying of Frozen Soils" modale Klarinettenlinien von Severin Black, die anfangs in dem nebligen, synthetischen Hintergrund fast nicht zu hören sind, bevor sie sich zu einem gespenstischen Kontrapunkt entwickeln. Eine ähnliche Struktur aus Unklarheit und Klarheit prägt den Titeltrack, in dem wortlose Gesänge eine laute Feldaufnahme durchdringen, die auf einer Fähre aufgenommen wurde, die den East River von Brooklyn nach Manhattan überquert. Das ist Musik mit einem weitläufigen Terrain und einer dichten Atmosphäre. Veränderungen sind langsam, aber dramatisch, jede Verschiebung ist sorgfältig geplant, um Gefühle des Staunens und der Vorfreude zu wecken und gleichzeitig eine erhabene Sensibilität dafür zu bewahren, wie einzelne Klänge mit der Bewegung ihrer Umgebung in Beziehung stehen. Michelle verzichtet meisterhaft auf Narrative und komponiert in drei Dimensionen. Wir bleiben mit der Mehrdeutigkeit des Wortes ,might" zurück - der anhaltenden Möglichkeit des energetischen Ansturms des Bruchs, des Ausbrechens, mal am Horizont, mal unmittelbar bevorstehend, irgendwie beides gleichzeitig.

Siren Selector presents the first voyage of Remy Solar, as the producer takes a break from composing sound system exclusive dubs to expand his horizons with this by-turns lush, textured, menacing and plaintive album.

‘Heavy Terrain’ emerges from the depths of a lifetime inside the dub fraternity: reared on a potent diet of Lee Scratch Perry and Augustus Pablo, The Disciples and Digital Mystikz, it’s an album which stuck its head in a bass bin in an abandoned bingo hall in north London before striking out on a musical road-trip to imbibe sounds and rhythms from further afield.

The album opens with the militant drums and ethereal pads of 'Sound in the East' before being bookended by two mixes of 'Star Trail', where unformed musical space and time cross uncharted distances to coalesce into the beginning of direction and rhythm. The lush deep house chords and drilling synths of 'Lila #3' summon ghostly presences, while in its counterpart 'Lila #7' layers of melody rise and hang like mist before dissipating in percussive heat. 'Dakhla's’ swelling and retreating drones fade into swirls of drums. In the eponymous 'Heavy Terrain', off-beat keyboard chops respond to each other from uncertain depths while electronic horns pulse across miles of open space. 'Empty City 'sees walls of sound coalesce and fragment, falling into bursts of white noise.

Remy Solar explores a deliberately constrained hardware set-up to create the primordial conditions of trance, locking down a rhythmic foundation while semi-improvised excursions form and reform above it. It’s an album that takes the listener on a journey between order and chaos, past and future, all the while underlaid by a counterpoint of cavernous bass lines and echoing percussion, yang and yin, shade and light.

Impatience is thrilled to present Leaving Memory, the latest album-length work by Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova. Leaving Memory is a searing distillation of the duo’s ouevre - it’s eleven prismatic electronic seances combining for a mind warping wormhole with it’s own internal (il)llogic, where pop, ambient, and industrial music convene beneath a rugged HD of digital processing and brain fog. Equally rosy with nostalgia as it is ominously forward looking, Leaving Memory defies easy categorization and makes for an astounding, confounding listen.

By turns violently abrasive and disarmingly touching, Piper and Lena deploy sounds that fracture and disintegrate, burn up and explode, synthetic supernovas that give the record an unmistakable, inimitable texture. Song structures often abide by their own blueprint - heading in one direction before making an abrupt dive elsewhere. Bursts of vibrant colour lurk below layers of grayscale noise. Unidentifiable voices deliver secret messages from the murk. When rhythm’s emerge they ground the tracks to some unknown terrain and invigorate.

Lame Line veers towards the sweeter end of their spectrum, a hazy plaintive repetition increasingly lashed with friction, before Exit erupts with clanging rhythm and shards of distortion. Diagnosis is an almost sweet alt-pop song, Lena’s vocals yearning beneath a dubby shuffle, while Keeper Of The Void’s possessed incantations open up to a ripping, fried climax. Beryl Grey releases the pressure gauge, a gently lilting drift arpeggiating as the sun sets, and Lost Cars sweats through claustrophobic drones and bird song before the clouds part on a serene scene. Leaving Memory closes with Shin, offering a genuinely sweet resolution and a gentle landing back down to earth of either footsteps or fireworks, swelling synthesized horns and woodwinds, a kiss on the cheek for making it out the other side.

On Leaving Memory, Piper Spray & Lena Tsibizova share their uniquely discordant take on freaky music for unsettled minds, an intensely energized set that offers a deeply evocative, unimaginable otherworld for adventurous ears.

Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova have been producing music together since 2020. Leaving Memory is the first to be presented in the LP format. Piper has previously released music via Orange Milk, Hausu Mountain and Gost Zvuk, as well as his own Singapore Sling Tapes label. Lena works predominantly as a photographer, and together Piper and Lena have released music via radio.syg.ma and Kartaskvazhin. Both make music as part of Air Krew, who have released music on the Echotourist and Motion Ward labels. They’re both currently based nowhere.

Leaving Memory was written, produced and mixed by Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova, and mastered by Sergey Podluzhniy. Cover photo by Lena Tsibizova, design and layout by Justin Sloane.