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Originally released in a limited white-label edition, in two different silk-screened sleeves of 108 copies each, The Stars On Their Horsies, containing just one track, is now reissued as a standard black vinyl LP. Textually based around two NightMares David Tibet had, of which he recorded accounts of as soon as he woke from them, The Stars On Their Horsies may be seen as a SideShowPeek, or perhaps a GasStationCarnival, and a slide into October's new C93 album, The Light Is Leaving Us All. In a full-colour sleeve with artwork by David. Side 1 The Stars On Their Horsies Side 2 The Stars On Their Horsies

Paul DeMarinis is a key figure in the history of electronic music since the 1970s. Collaborator with the likes of Robert Ashley, David Behrman, and David Tudor, DeMarinis is a pioneer in the development of gallery sound installation and digital music technologies. Black Truffle is thrilled to announce the release of a double-LP collection, selected in collaboration with the artist, focussing on DeMarinis's exploration of synthesized voice and the digital analysis and manipulation of speech sounds. Drawing together tracks dispersed on compilations along with a number of pieces previously unheard in any form, Songs Without Throats offers a revelatory look into DeMarinis's alternately accessible and uncompromising production between 1978 and 1995. Opening with a mesmerizing piece from 1978 pairing the voice and tamboura playing of Anne Klingensmith with strings of letters spat out by a Speak n' Spell to the accompaniment of the randomised melodic patterns of DeMarinis's homebuilt electronic instrument 'The Pygmy Gamelan', the record then dispenses with the live human voice in favour of its recorded and synthetic doubles. We follow DeMarinis's restless probing of the possibilities of new technologies, from the hacked Speak n' Spell (which gives us the austere 'Et Tu, Klaatu' 1979, another duet with Klingensmith, this time on bowed psaltery, in which the toy's synthetic voice is stretched into an alien song) through to the use of digital audio samples manipulated with home computer technology in the early 1990s (including a remarkable dream-like collage piece that weaves a rare recording of Stalin's voice and bird-like electronic twittering derived from its formant-glides into a rich tapestry of samples reflective of the dictator's musical life). In between we get a rich sampling of DeMarinis's signature work with speech melodies - usually unnoticed melodic inflections that lie within speech patterns - which he analyses and translates into synthesized musical accompaniment. These pieces draw on a wide variety of textual and vocal sources, which range from the hilarious to the menacing ('Cincinatti (1830-1850)' sets a detailed description of butchering techniques, for example) and an equally broad range of musical conceptions, combining elements as seemingly unlikely as Beethoven's Opus 31 pianos sonatas and the sounds of 80s synth pop. The results are an extraordinary combination of the alien and the familiar. As DeMarinis himself characterises his work with vocal synthesis, this is 'a kind of signal that simultaneously carried and obscured meaning and ideation, even as it created a sound world totally alien in esthetic'. Presented in a deluxe gatefold sleeve with archival images and liner notes by Paul DeMarinis. Design by Stephen O'Malley. Mastered and cut by Rashad Becker at D&M, Berlin

The anonymous underground figure of Phoboz is associated with one colour - black. Not only is his online presence a mystery, with alternative stage names such as Doghead, Phaseliner, and Parseq. He is also connected to the well-respected Motorlab label, whose releases from the outset have been devoid of portraiture, biographic information, or textual support. Black covers, a few silver symbols of factory hardware, and nothing more.

Nonetheless, one Russian venue online has referred to Phoboz's earlier work as 'digital music for sentient people.' There's a vague connection between darkness, industry, and Russian feelings of late. Actuality is black.

These same emphases define the newest release by Phoboz on Resonance Records, entitled 'Flow' and overseen by Moscow's techno kingpin Nikita Zabelin. Forty minutes of resonant, insistent beats, straight from the gut of some abandoned factory. A heavy, even thunderous tradition fades to black, leaving the echo of prior decades to repeat itself, over and over. Even the titles of this release speak of something lost in the dark: 'Forgotten Planet' or 'Shifted Bias.' One tradition has evanesced; a future equivalent remains vague.

Phoboz gives voice to that shift from erstwhile desire to present-day drive, from industrial progress to post-industrial flow. The sounds of a forgotten culture.