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DJ Support: Eprom, Visages, Gaslamp Killer, Drone and more

Following his last extended body of work ‘Entanglements’, Alix Perez taps into slower tempos for his new mini LP ‘Sabotage’. This record focuses on the 130-140 bpm realm, featuring collaborations with SP:MC, Trim, Cesco & Hijinx. From light to dark, Alix further explores his penchant for that world of music.

Dub Consistency proudly presents its debut release, showcasing the hypnotic sound of 23.4 with a special remix from Berlin-based Argentinian artist Volpe.

On this four-track EP plus two locked grooves, Lille producer 23.4 distills over a decade of studio experience into a fast-paced yet deep Dub Techno journey.
Rolling percussion, weighty low-end and subtle atmospheres recall both the raw soul of Detroit and the spacious echoes of Berlin.

Adding his own signature, Volpe-a talent of Berlin's club circuit and producer for labels such as a.r.t.less and Frenzy-delivers a powerful rework that blends Dub, Deep and Tribal influences for peak-time impact.

Mastered by Conor Dalton, this first Dub Consistency outing is built for vinyl and the dancefloor alike: immersive, heavy, and unmistakably club-oriented.

"deathcrash’s third album, Somersaults, glimmers with an everyday euphoria. The London-based slowcore/ post-rock quartet has always had an affinity for building worlds only to crush them. From their breakout EP, People thought my windows were stars (2021), through two critically acclaimed studio albums, Return (2022) and Less (2023), they have been both the architects and the destroyers, the creationists and the ones manning the flood barrier. But, recorded between Black Box Studio in the Loire Valley and Haggerston’s Holy Mountain, Somersaults is almost joyful.

Its ten tracks are more vocal heavy than any of the band’s catalogue – think Mark Linkous via The Kinks – but lyrically, Somersaults resists revelation. For all its abrasion, phrases appear half-swallowed, broken off at the edge of meaning, consumed by the smaller textures of living. “Thirty, no career, it fucking worries me / And doing the band doesn’t help,” Banks sings in ‘NYC’. But, “This life is the best life,” he finishes in ‘CMC’ on top of the ambient white noise of an office printer, thankful that the band is still there, “still making noise in the doorway.”

Their role as caretakers of Duster, Low and Codeine’s slowcore lineage is all across Somersaults – songs scud to a narcotic crawl, sound monolithic and inwards before spotlighting a crystalline nothing. Cathartic builds are muddied with tenderness, the bass a heavy grounding, the drums an exhausted heartbeat grasping for air. But more so than ever, even the silence feels collaborative – a gesture of communal trust – friends celebrating the room they’ve made for each other’s ghosts, and some of the biggest, brightest songs they’ve made to date."

Aspen Edities is pleased to present Aerial, the third album of the experimental quartet Oker.

Whereas their album debut Husene våre er museer (2018) and its follow-up Susurrus (2021) focused on collective and individual compositions, Aerial features two longform pieces of fully improvised music, sculpted from the recognizable acoustic sound palette that the quartet has developed across a decade of extensive touring. The titles, Aerial, Equinoctial Tide and Crepuscular Rays refer to meteorological and planetary phenomena, and in Oker’s interplay we hear light, wind, clouds, and tidal cycles transpire as shimmering, roaring, rubbing, coalescing and diverging environments of sound. The sonic stoicism and minimalism in their expression is challenged by frictioning micro-chaoses, combining to create calm, winding paths of musical detail and form. Echoing our planet and its meteorological reality, Aerial yields both consistency and perpetual change.

Bringing together some of the most compelling musicians from the Norwegian improvised music scene, Oker operates as an acoustic experimental quartet devoted to the amalgamation of improvised and composed modes of expression. Their music combines fine-tuned tonalities, deconstructed grooves, acoustic noise and other sonic events, taking their rather conventional instrumentation as a point of departure. Textures in gradual change coexisting with responsive and spontaneous gestures create a varied but coherent musical ecosystem which can be airy or dense, dry or blooming. A certain minimalist or stoic approach to sound production is an overarching and recurring element in all of Oker’s music, differentiating their sound from the majority of music in the field of improvised music or free jazz.

2026 Repress


Another Thought was the first collection of Arthur Russell’s music to be released after his death in 1992. Released in 1993 on Point Music it marked the beginning of nearly 30 years of work to let the world hear the enormous archive of unreleased recordings Arthur left behind. Be With revisits this first compilation for a new gatefold double vinyl version and a triple-fold digipak CD reissue.

Both versions of Be With’s 2021 reissue of Another Thought have been mastered by Simon Francis and the vinyl cut by Pete Norman. The original artwork has been restored and tweaked at Be With HQ for the gatefold sleeve and the triple-fold digipak, with the essential help of Janette Beckman. Each version comes with an insert reproducing the liner notes and lyrics from the original CD release.

Together with Calling Out Of Context, Soul Jazz’s World of Arthur Russell, and much of the ongoing work of Audika, Another Thought is absolutely essential for even the most casual Arthur Russell collection. In fact we’d argue it’s essential for any fan of non-obvious pop music. This is the only place where you can hear some of Arthur’s most recognisable tunes and it’s an album that absolutely deserves to be kept in press.


We’ll assume that by now you’re all at least a little familiar with the story of Arthur Russell, the farm boy from Iowa who moved to 1970s New York. Arthur Russell the genuine musical genius who died just 40 years old, leaving behind a wealth of music that dwarfed the few 12"s and LPs that were released during his short life.

Although Arthur had been working on an album for Rough Trade during his last years, with the label no-longer operating it was Point Music (Philip Glass and Michael Riesman’s label set up together with Philips) who stepped in to help Arthur’s partner Tom Lee start working out exactly what Arthur had left behind.

Tom suggested that Arthur’s friend Mikel Rouse was the right person to make the first catalogue. Working in Tom and Arthur’s apartment he had only two weeks to go through what turned out to be around 800 tapes.

As Tom explained “at the end of each day he would generally wait for me to come home and I would, to the best of my knowledge, name and identify pieces in question from that day’s work. As he worked Mikel compiled about a dozen cassettes that he thought would present the most finished sounding songs for Don/Point to use. As Don listened he would then suggest and ask me and thus we collaborated on the choices.”

Don is Don Christensen, Another Thought’s producer. With a final selection of songs from recordings made between 1982 and 1990, including sessions with some of Arthur’s regular collaborators Peter Zummo, Steven Hall, Mustafa Ahmed, Elodie Lauten, Julius Eastman, Jennifer Warnes and Joyce Bowden, it was then Don’s job to turn these into a finished album.

Another Thought is a little different from the compilations of Arthur’s music that came out since. In our conversations with Steve Knutson (who founded Audika Records and who manages Arthur’s estate together with Tom), he explained that “more than any project released by Arthur during his lifetime or posthumously by Audika, ‘Another Thought’ is the most worked over. The material was significantly edited and rearranged from the original source tapes”.

If the aim was to release a comprehensive exploration of every facet of Arthur’s music, from the most avant-garde of his avant-garde compositions through to the most disco-not-disco of his disco-not-disco tunes then the project was a spectacular failure. But as a coherent album of non-obvious pop music Another Thought is wonderful.

Starting with the sparse voice-and-cello of the title track, A Little Lost adds some guitar along with the sneaking suspicion that we’re listening to something nowhere near as simple as it first sounds. By the time we get to This Is How We Walk On The Moon - it could be the moment you notice the congas, or the percussion that’s been building behind them, or maybe it’s that blast of trumpet and trombone - we realise we’ve gone from splashing around to being completely submerged in the musical world of Arthur Russell.

From here the album heads off on its journey around the sounds of the left-field contemporary classical music of the time, re-directed towards pop ears, with minor detours through the swirling woozy disco of the half-remembered night before on In The Light Of The Miracle and My Tiger, My Timing. Whether it’s just Arthur, his cello and some bleeps on Just A Blip, or whether he has some vocal help as he does on the bounding Keeping Up, this is difficult music made so, so easy. And through it all is Arthur’s voice and cello. Sometimes drowned in distortion and sometimes clear as a bell, but always there somewhere.

A Sudden Chill finally returns us to the calmer waters we started in and this last track closes the album with a melancholy that’s not surprising given how soon after Arthur’s death the album was put together.

Whilst Another Thought holds together with the consistency of a proper album, there’s still no getting away from the fact that this was put together from audio recorded in different ways, in different places, with different people at different times. Those with keen ears will hear traces of tape hiss, the occasional blown-out note and some digital fuzz, all fingerprints of those original recordings as well as of the 1990s digital equipment that was used to piece Another Thought together.

Add to this Arthur’s obvious pleasure in making music from the sort of sounds that can make microphones, speakers and ears uncomfortable, it’s no surprise that Another Thought isn’t glossy and pristine. Don Christensen’s productions have been careful to not scrub up those original recordings so much that they lose their original vibe, understandable given that Arthur wasn’t around as a guide. We’ve applied a similarly light touch with the mastering for these Be With versions, just working to make sure they sound like they should on both the vinyl and the CD.

Despite the Discogs rumours, Another Thought was never originally released as an LP. So when it came to the sleeve for this Be With vinyl version we took the original CD artwork as a starting point to come up with something that looks like it could have been in the record racks back in 1993.

We have to thank Janette Beckman for helping us reproduce her iconic photograph of Arthur in his newspaper boat hat. One of many photographs she took of Arthur, Janette shot this in her New York studio back in 1986 for a short article in the January ’87 issue of The Face Magazine. Those with eagle-eyes will notice we’ve used an ever-so-slightly different shot from the one that appeared in The Face and then again on the original cover of Another Thought. The original has long since been lost so we’ve worked with what is left in Janette’s archives. And we also have to thank Tom Lee for giving us permission to reproduce his liner notes from the original CD booklet, together with Arthur’s lyrics.

Synthpop, minimal wave, post-punk, goth, new romantic - fans and critics alike have dug deeply into their vintage thesauruses to describe the beguiling work of Nation of Language. And if you can't precisely define the band, that's the point. Frontman Ian Richard Devaney has become prodigious in expanding what synthesizer-driven music can evoke, such that his output is as much an extrasensory journey as it is an all-too-human destination. With that experience in mind, he wrote the band's fourth album - the spectral, spacious Dance Called Memory - in the most humble of ways: chipping away at melancholia by sitting around and strumming his guitar. Nation of Language's first two albums, Introduction, Presence (2020), and A Way Forward (2021), came as pandemic godsends: gorgeous, relatable soundtracks to our collective doldrums. But it was their last LP, Strange Disciple (2023), that catapulted the group from cultural standouts to critical darlings, with the album being named Rough Trade's Album of the Year. With that release, Pitchfork wrote that the band "are learning what it means to get bigger and better." This is Devaney's calling: soulfully translating individual despair into a comforting, collective mourning. The single "Now That You're Gone," which radiates and reverberates with a devastating wistfulness, was inspired by witnessing his godfather's tragic death from ALS, and his parents' role as caretakers for this ailing friend. At its heart, the song is a reflection of how friends can be there for each other, and also highlights a theme throughout the record: the pain and lost promise of friendships that fall apart. On Dance Called Memory, the band once again collaborated with friend and Strange Disciple producer Nick Millhiser (LCD Soundsystem, Holy Ghost!). "What's so great about Nick is his ability to make us feel like we don't need to do what might be expected of us," says synth player Aidan Noell, who, along with bassist Alex MacKay, rounds out the Nation of Language lineup. They imbued Dance Called Memory with a shifted palette - sampling chopped-up drum breaks on "I'm Not Ready for the Change" for a touch of Loveless-era My Bloody Valentine or smashing all of the percussion of "In Another Life" through a synthesizer to cast a shade of early-2000s electronic music. Ultimately, the hope was to weave raw vulnerability and humanity into a synth-heavy album. "There is a dichotomy between the Kraftwerk school of thought and the Brian Eno school of thought, each of which I've been drawn to at different points. I've read about how Kraftwerk wanted to remove all the humanity from their music, but Eno often spoke about wanting to make synthesized music that felt distinctly human," Devaney says. "As much as Kraftwerk is a sonically foundational influence, with this record I leaned much more towards the Eno school of thought. In this era quickly being defined by the rise of AI supplanting human creators I'm focusing more on the human condition, and I need the underlying music to support that_ Instead of hopelessness, I want to leave the listener with a feeling of us really seeing one another, that our individual struggles can actually unite us in empathy."

Rick James Blends Brazen Attitude, Fearless Sexuality, and Shrewd Charisma on Street Songs:

Punk-Funk Album Aims for the Hips and Head, Includes the Timeless Hit “Super Freak”
Sourced from the Original Master Tapes and Strictly Limited to 4,000 Numbered Copies:

Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Presents 1981 Smash in Audiophile Sound for the First Time
1/4” / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe


“Punk funk” was a relatively unknown concept before 1981. But once Street Songs took the charts by storm that year, the world soon knew about what became Rick James’ signature style. And how. True to its name, Street Songs blends outspoken sexuality, brazen attitude, and edgy commentary amid contagious R&B-fueled arrangements that simultaneously aim for the hips, head, and various nether regions. And it’s never sounded better.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents James’ platinum-certified effort in audiophile quality for the first time. Playing with crisp dynamics, lively textures, airy headroom, and revealing clarity, this collectible edition of the record that stayed at the No. 1 spot on the R&B Album Charts for 20 weeks invites you to get closer to music that beckons you to turn your space into a private dance floor.

Then again, you’ll likely be so taken by how the taut bass lines, snappy rhythms, and four-on-the-floor beats — all rendered in stunning detail and with full-bodied architecture — come across with such accuracy and presence, you might stay pinned to your seat. On this pressing, the soundstaging, imaging, and lit-fuse energy of Street Songs reach new heights. Everything from the rubbery feel of the guitar lines to the depth of James’ temperature-raising vocals to the scale of the horn charts emerges as if James and his ace session crew set up in your room.

The Buffalo native and his ensemble waste no time getting their message across. On the album-opening “Give It to Me Baby,” James and company lay down a mix of sleek funk and pulsing disco that practically activates the bright lights of a discotheque and stimulates the libido of anyone within earshot. Having reached No. 1 on the Billboard Hot Soul charts, the song is pure sex — and just one of the carnal delights on a record that embraces the subject as fearlessly as James does his identity.

Of course, the most famous of James’ erotic excursions — the timeless “Super Freak” — hit No. 1 on Hot Dance Club Play charts, No. 16 on the Hot 100, and, later, No. 153 on Rolling Stone’s list of the Top 500 Songs of All Time. Bolstered by a quavering keyboard theme and electro riffs, the much-sampled track worms itself inside your muscles with smile-inducing subject matter, gliding vocals, nimble movements, a hot tenor-saxophone solo, and backing vocals by the Temptations.

The iconic Motown group isn’t the only celebrated guest artist on the Grammy-nominated Street Songs. James’ then-labelmate, Stevie Wonder, lends harmonica to the frank sociopolitical narrative on “Mr. Policeman,” a protest tune that also manages to stroll ’n’ strut via simmering organ, staggering brass accents, and James’ gritty vocal performance. In addition to contributing backing vocals on several cuts, Teena Marie turns in one of the album’s signature moments on “Fire and Desire,” a romantic old-school duet with James that impresses with smoothness, sensitivity, and smokiness.

High-profile colleagues aside, James remains the undisputed star, a figure whose leather-and-latex attire, braided hair, and natural swagger made him misunderstood by some in the mainstream and embraced by everyone in the know as a true original. As a testament to his magnetism and skills, his charisma and rawness seemingly seep through every note, whether on the balladic sweep of the risqué “Make Love to Me” or strident, poke-and-prod persuasion of the moonwalking “Call Me Up.”

On the closing “Below the Funk (Pass the J),” an uptempo autobiographical tale that addresses the visionary musician’s second-favorite love, the singer acknowledges his upbringing and inseparable connection with his roots — an homage to where he began and a toast to where he’s gone.

Rick James, keepin’ it real on Street Songs, still as real as it gets.

“From Birmingham and centred around the extraordinary songwriting talent of James and Patrick Roberts – initially as The Sea Urchins and since 1993 as Delta – they’ve only just got round to releasing their debut album, Slippin’ Out. It is a work of some beauty”. 9/10 NME ALBUM OF THE MONTH, 2000

“It’s classicist for sure, shot through with the influence of The Beatles, Byrds and Buffalo Springfield. In James’ downright beautiful closing ballad ‘I Want You’ one can also discern the school of ambitious English balladry that peaked in about 1968: The Casuals, Love Affair, Barry Ryan. The impression of accomplished old-schoolery is only furthered by the dizzying string arrangements penned by Louis Clark Jnr, son and namesake of the one-time orchestral chief of Electric Light Orchestra” – Mojo lead review, 2000


Having ended the 90s with the spirited ‘Laughing Mostly’ compilation of singles and demos (Guardian Album Of The Week) Delta finally released their debut studio album of twelve songs in the summer of 2000 on the Dishy Recordings label. Accepting that this might be their sole studio album the band threw everything at these recordings allowing it to exist in its own sphere, unbothered by their contemporary generation and disregarding the idea of even releasing a single.

Recorded at DEP International there was a notable difference to the scruffier, looser charm of their 1990s recordings, a tighter focus developed by having the experienced Lenny Franchi mixing the LP with them. Lenny had been working with a number of Island artists including My Bloody Valentine and Tricky so knew his way around a desk. There was also the question of budget (a few months passed between recording and mixing whilst funds were raised) so every day counted. Ultimately though you can hear the joy in the recordings, even amongst the melancholy and angst. As James recently recalled in an interview in Shindig! Magazine: “It was such a big deal for us. It’s one of my fondest memories doing that record. Everyone was happy. If there’s anything that I’d stand by, I think it would be that”

Louis Clark Jr joined the band towards the end of the ‘90s and brought a classically-trained element to the recordings particularly with his string arrangements. For ‘Cuckoo’, ‘I Want You’ and the prophetic ‘We Come Back’ Louis brought in eight players from the Birmingham Conservatoire; the baroque style is partly why the record often receives comparisons to Love’s ‘Forever Changes’.

On release ‘Slippin’ Out’ was a big favourite with writers at the NME, Mojo and The Guardian again and before long the band were signed to Mercury/Universal for their second studio album ‘Hard Light’, a far more expensive and expansive love affair. It was a temporary palatial home where things quietly fell apart again, but that’s another chapter.

“If long-term memory is nothing more than selective editing and only pop’s most weighty visceral works are built to last then it’s quite possible that in 50 years the Britpop era will be best recollected for the two bands it ostracised. Earlier this year we met Shack and thought their story of mercurial brilliance indicated the biggest music biz oversight of the 90s. We were wrong because we hadn’t met Delta yet. This is richer and more engrossing than anything by Shack” 

Mia Zapata was the greatest rock singer of her time. She may have likely been the greatest blues singer in punk rock history, the woman who married the 78 and the '78. Tragedy did not make this true. Mia Zapata made this true, and the ferocious, spring-loaded shrapnel frame that was built around her by Andy Kessler (guitar: metronomic and furious), Matt Dresdner (bass: fluid, punching, beat-addicted and melodic), and Steve Moriarty (drums: martial and explosive) - who, with Mia, combined to form The Gits - made it true. The Gits were formed at Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio in mid-1986, grabbing and swapping pieces of art, thrash, noise, punk rock, classic rock, and all the sorts of magical silly and bookish jingle bells that an old-school liberal arts education handed you; for the next few years they worked on turning it all into something tough, sensitive, both brutal and kind. Andy, Matt, Mia, and Steve moved to Seattle in middish 1989, landing in a house on Capitol Hill where they (and fellow travelers) wood-shedded and rehearsed for the next few years. The Gits put out three EPs in 1990 and '91 before signing with C/Z Records and releasing their first full-length album, Frenching the Bully. Seattle quickly claimed the quartet as their own and embraced the Gits blend of ferocious fangs and soft heart, the slug/slap of the guitars, and the gorgeous, soft underbelly of the poetic emotions. These qualities not only fit in with the doe-eyed/sharp-clawed grunge ethos but earned the Gits the respect of their peers, including Nirvana, who tapped them to open a major local show in 1990. Then other stuff happened, and their frantic, confessional barbed-heart snowball began rolling up hill very, very fast; the Gits "quickly" (hah! After half a decade learning to implode and explode hearts and stomping their boots on manifold beer-softened, Marlboro-weeded wood stages!) inspired rapture, awe, and the levitation that happened when peak emotion meets peak grindage in front of amps spitting out something that sounded like the mad marriage of Bolan swagger and Dischord tension_ all fronted by a genuinely incomparable woman who held her heart in her mouth and shared it, in all its celebration and fear, without hesitation. The Gits were an angry, inflamed slinky fully in tune with and tuned by the Bessie Patti Smith of her time, truly the only singer who could summon Joplin, Poly Styrene, Sam Cooke, Iggy Pop and Ian MacKaye all in the same goddamn song. In 1993, less than four weeks after accepting an offer from Atlantic Records, Mia died. I leave it at that, because this is not about death; it's about an extraordinary life. I do not say, "You should have been there," I say, "We are lucky so many of us were, and I am so glad we have this extraordinary evidence of the power and gifts of Mia and the Gits that you now can hold in your hands." And I note that Frenching the Bully, this extraordinary testament to the soul, shock, fury and feeling of the Gits, has been long out of print on vinyl and CD, and this new edition - remastered by legendary Seattle engineer Jack Endino - joyfully rectifies that. -Tim Sommer

Sundays is the debut full length from Oakland-based Tanukichan, aka multi-instrumentalist Hannah van Loon. At surface level, the album sounds just how the title describes: hazy, dreamy, reflective, just like a lazy Sunday afternoon. Upon second and third listens, the dreamy music unveils a deeper world: an ever present sense of longing, an endless state of summer and a period of instability that plagues us all at one point or another in our lives.
Raised in San Francisco, van Loon started out making classical, bluegrass and jazz music as well as playing in numerous bands in the area before deciding to make something more personal. What started with a few unfocused demos, with van Loon playing all the instruments herself in her house, became a studio experience and viable collection of music after her friend Anthony Ferraro of Astronauts, Etc. introduced her to Company Records founder Chaz Bear (Toro Y Moi, Les Sins). After collaborating on her 2016 EP Radiolove, van Loon and Bear set out to make a much more sonically cohesive release, with both the producer and artist playing all the instruments on the record. The result is a slice of dream pop that could only come from the combination of the laid back atmosphere of California and the nostalgic and often difficult memories that are generally associated with coming of age.
To van Loon, the tracks of Sundays are a form of contemplation and approaching life’s issues from a different and less complicated perspective. “Sometimes for me, it feels easier to write songs about things than to talk. A lot of things in life are layered and paradoxical, but with songs it always seems simpler.”
Opening track “Lazy Love” sets the stage, sonically and lyrically, for the rest of the album, combining vulnerable lyrics with gorgeous, fuzzy tones. Above pummeling synths and guitar tones, van Loon sings “you know I'd do anything/don't you know I try my best/if I could wake up when the sun is rising” showing the album’s constant theme of balancing always wanting to be the best person you can be, while also feeling a low level joy at letting life play out as it wants to. “Natural” is a track that feels perfect for a road trip, a track that hums away with a driving beat, culminating in the sheer excitement of finally having a night alone with someone you’ve loved for a while, among many highs and lows: “a window too bright/it's natural sunlight/grey fades to white lie/kiss you tonight/it's natural delight/help me feel right.” The tracks collectively address a deep rooted sense of yearning for someone, something new, while also feeling content with your life; a realization that maybe the places you’ve always belonged aren’t where you should be anymore, that suddenly you might be looking for something completely different.
“I settled on the name Sundays as the title of the record because it encapsulated how the record felt to me,“ van Loon says. “I was thinking about the laziness, and dreamy clarity that you can feel after a late night, waking up having to face the world with a new perspective.” Sundays encapsulates this feeling, a nostalgic way of looking at the world, waking up feeling like a slightly different person than before, looking back on life, not sure if you can tackle what’s next, but doing your best, day in and day out

Recorded during lockdown and previously only available as a CDr self-released in an edition of 99 in 2022, 'The Sympathy Portal' collects four tracks (one of which is divided into three parts) that make full use of Edward Ka-Spel’s command of melodies, cosmic churn, subtle field recordings, percolated vocals, hypno-rhythms, tempered noise, broken clocks, atmospheric keyboards, uncoiling springs and carefully hewn dynamics. Coupled to often despairing or melancholic lyrics, the album ultimately forms a fantastic addition to a body of work from this hardworking artist usually found at home fronting The Legendary Pink Dots and apparently barely able to rest when not engaged in commitments to them. Here is what he says himself about 'The Sympathy Portal': “'The Sympathy Portal' was created as 2020 drifted into 2021 with the world in the grip of a pandemic. He studied charts on TV, horrified by statistics, temporarily free from a lockdown but well aware that we'd be back in our cubicles soon enough. It was hard to be positive in such an environment and this album reflects much of the fear and tension of the time. But the last song, 'Angel Trail ( Slight Return)', was intended to offer some genuine hope, having been revived for the release after first appearing in a different form on The Legendary Pink Dots' '9 Lives to Wonder' back in 1994.” The album pays testament to a troubled and troubling time that now, a mere few years on, strangely appears like the grand entrance to a series of heavily dark periods we are still desperate to crawl from. It could be argued that the angel trail Edward so eloquently refers to is something that needs to be found more than ever and that, thankfully, his music helps to illuminate this despites its mostly distressed overtones.
Away from the confines of a now hard-to-find and long sold out CDr, Lumberton Trading Company brings this album back as a vinyl release that’s limited to 300 and is scheduled to appear in February 2026.

Roberto y su Nuevo Montuno recorded their first album, “El Nuevo Montuno Llegó” (1970), when Roberto Berríos was just 22 years old. This was also the debut release on Haddock’s own Uniart label. Berríos remembers that they did the recording in two sessions, splitting it up into four tracks per visit. The engineer was the famed Pedro “Pedrito” Henríquez, who recorded El Gran Combo, Roberto Roena and many others. The band had a mix of tasty, powerful originals, from Tony Cintrón’s title track that announced the band had arrived, ‘El Nuevo Montuno Llegó,’ to Quique Dávila’s mournful ‘Triste Arrabal.’ Then there was the hit Santería themed tune, ‘Llamé a Changó,’ which was a song that Quique Dávila brought to the band, but had been originally composed by Carlos Pinto, though Quique was given the credit. Dávila also composed ‘Me Queda Un Guaguancó,’ which is Roberto’s favorite song on the record (as well as a fan favorite), with Papo sounding like his friend Héctor Lavoe, and Quique Dávila’s proud manifesto declaring that Puerto Rico now had its own son montuno, ‘Oye Tu Son, Borinquen,’ featuring the pianist’s tasty but brief solo. The cover versions came from the group’s earliest period when most of their repertoire consisted of renditions of beloved but lesser known tunes, and include Louie Ramírez’s ‘Balancéate’ (a favorite of Roberto’s from Ray Barretto’s songbook), Bobby Valentín’s ‘Monina y Ramón’ (recorded during his stint with Willie Rosario), and a bolero indelibly sung by Cheo Feliciano when he was with the Joe Cuba Sextet, ‘Dichoso,’ written by Joe Cuba’s talented pianist, Nick Jiménez. Some of the arranging was done by Cintrón and some by Dávila, though Quique had some help from his old friend from El Combo Moderno, Freddie Miranda, who at that time was with Roberto Roena’s Apollo Sound. Roberto says that the arrangements of the cover tunes were made specifically to be different and more contemporary sounding than the originals. “El Nuevo Montuno Llegó” has become a legendary salsa dura classic from Puerto Rico and we are thrilled to present this first legitimately licensed and remastered vinyl reissue. It includes detailed liner notes that reveal the untold story of the band and their debut album, and rare photos.

Rikk Agnew's All by Myself is one of those records that feels like a secret you're lucky to stumble upon -- a raw, weird, totally personal snapshot of a restless artist at a pivotal moment. Originally released in 1982 on Frontier Records, the album stands apart from most of what was coming out of Southern California at the time, even though it was born right in the middle of the exploding hardcore punk scene. By 1982, Rikk Agnew was already a big deal underground. As the guitarist for Adolescents, he helped shape the sound of Orange County hardcore with sharp riffs, surf-inflected melodies, and a sense of urgency that became hugely influential. He also played in bands like D.I. and later Christian Death, moving fluidly between hardcore punk, post-punk, and darker, more experimental territory. Agnew wasn't just a fast, aggressive guitarist -- he was a songwriter with range, curiosity, and a strong DIY instinct. All by Myself lives up to its title in the most literal way. Agnew recorded the album largely on his own, playing all the instruments and handling vocals himself. Instead of delivering another straight-up hardcore record, he went inward. The result is a lo-fi, home-recorded collection of songs that blend punk energy with new wave, post-punk, psychedelic touches, and even moments of pop sensitivity. It's rough around the edges, but that's exactly the point -- the album feels intimate, unfiltered, and honest. In the early '80s, Southern California punk was loud, fast, and often confrontational. Bands were pushing against the mainstream and even against each other, racing toward more extreme sounds. While All by Myself shares that DIY spirit, it doesn't fully play by hardcore rules. The tempos shift, the moods wander, and the songs feel more like personal experiments than scene anthems. That made the record a bit of an outlier at the time -- but also what gives it lasting appeal. Frontier Records was the perfect home for a release like this. The label was known for supporting artists who didn't quite fit into neat categories, and All by Myself captured that ethos perfectly. Today, All by Myself is often seen as a cult classic. For fans of early punk, post-punk, or anyone interested in the roots of DIY recording culture, this album is essential listening

Making a welcome return nine years on from his last outing on Dekmantel, Makam offers up a generous helping of wayward grooves that take his curious spirit even further into unmarked territory. With a strong dub sensibility grounding his rich tapestry of percussion and instrumentation, Guy Blanken follows his own path to arrive at an album that embodies house music as a launchpad for experimentation.

Blanken says himself he was determined to approach his first Makam productions in years from a place of total freedom — "It's not a single direction, but rather a landscape of sounds, moments, and textures. TARP feels like a new beginning, a free project that just had to happen naturally." The steady pulse of the club remains a guiding principle boldly manifested on heads down roller 'Static Shade', but even in the lilting organic loops and tumbling percussion of 'Forgive' there is a funkiness that's beholden to continuous movement.

At times the direct thump of 4/4 disco juts out as a call to dance, not least on 'Flying Birds' and 'La Tuna', but elsewhere the rhythms are more slippery. 'Dub In Loen' plots a delicate path through dub techno and 'Lummel Spirit' casts off into pattering Balearic bliss. The pervasive dub mood of the record comes to the fore on expertly crafted stepper 'Diagonal Rain' and crooked album opener 'Clear Skies'. 'Jackie B' lands as a love letter to quintessential deep house, and yet still there's a left-of-centre charm that gives the track a personality that is pure Makam.

Exuding warmth and imagination at every turn, TARP is the perfect example of how to make a groove-oriented album a rich home listening experience. There are ample moments primed for the spectacle of the dancefloor, but the mellow hue and broad sweep of approaches make Makam's welcome return utterly compelling from end to end.

World Of Echo announces the reissue of two remastered albums by Japanese guitarist and songwriter Naoki Zushi, 1988’s Paradise, and 2005’s III. Two classics of Japanese psychedelia, both Paradise and III were originally released on Org Records, the imprint of Shinji Shibayama of acid-folk group Nagisa Ni Te, with whom Zushi has guested on second guitar for decades. Both intimate and expansive, rich with revelatory songwriting and blasted, sky-scouring guitar, these reissues return these albums to print for the first time since the 2000s. It’s the first time III has been officially released on vinyl, with an extra, previously unreleased track, “Under The June Moonlight.”

Recorded in Kyoto’s Townhouse Studios in mid 1987 and released in limited-to-500 vinyl pressing in 1988, Paradise emerged from a scene in Kansai, Japan that was embracing the idiosyncracies of 1970s singer-songwriters, the soaring solos of early seventies psychedelia, and the DIY impulse of 1980s post-punk. While Zushi’s musical history stretched back to the early eighties – he was a founding member of Jojo Hiroshige’s noise outfit Hijokaidan – he found his feet with groups like Hallelujahs, whose dream-pop collection Niku O Kuraite Chikai Wo Tateyo was recently reissued by Black Editions, and Idiot O’Clock.

Paradise appeared two years after that Hallelujahs album and share much the same membership – Zushi’s backing band on several of the songs includes Shibayama on drums and Ken-Ichi Takayama (aka Idiot) on electric guitar, though just as often, Zushi plays all the instruments himself. The coordinates here are wide-reaching – you can hear the volume and intensity of Neil Young & Crazy Horse (on “Hallelujah: Left Side” and “Paradise: Midday”), the slow-motion magic of Galaxie 500, the idiosyncratic spirit of The Only Ones, all mixed up with tender guitar miniatures and stumbling garage-psych-pop moves.

Seven years later, after the transitional album Phenomenal Luciferin, Zushi released III. Perhaps his masterpiece, it’s already been bootlegged on vinyl, but this reissue is the real deal. The album was recorded at Studio Nemu over seven years, and sees Zushi backed by Shibayama (bass) and Masako Takeda (drums), his erstwhile bandmates in Nagisa Ni Te. By this stage, Zushi had started to really stretch out, and many of the songs on III swoon languorously, taking their sweet time to say what they need to say. It’s rich with lovely, melancholy songs, in a similar realm to bandmates Nagisa Ni Te, of course, but you can also hear traces of everything from Syd Barrett’s The Madcap Laughs, through seventies private press loner folk, to the slow-burn meanderings of the likes of early Low or Damon & Naomi.

When interviewed by Shibayama in the mid-nineties, Zushi said of Paradise, “it was a sort of collection of songs that had meant something to me up to that point… it was my paradise. I wanted to create paradise.” That’s something Zushi achieves on both of these albums – visionary Japanese psychedelia, en route to paradise. - Jon Dale

There’s an alternate reality where everyone makes a living wage and the cleanest buses you’ve ever seen arrive every other minute. Where the most intense songs are about confessing your love to a crush at the apple orchard, and where gentle feelings and chaotic energy are inseparable best friends. This is the timeline where Cootie Catcher is right at home. This Toronto based four-piece exudes both vulnerability and unbridled excitement, creating a sound that hypercharges the open-hearted tenderness of twee pop with spiraling synths and giddy electronics. New album Something We All Got is the clearest and most vibrant reading of Cootie Catcher’s vision yet, with songs of sweetness, nervousness, and expectancy that beam out unguarded.
After releasing music made primarily in basement recording environments, Something We All Got is the band’s first flirtation with studio recording. The edges are still sharp, however, with some parts assembled from time-honored lo-fi methods and fun, personally-sourced samples seeping into the production. The sound is explosive and upbeat, with euphoric guitars, bubbly synth lines, speedy drums both played and programmed, and all other manner of sound constantly colliding. Cootie Catcher has three songwriters, Sophia Chavez, Anita Fowl, and Nolan Jakupovski, all of whom have distinctive voices but still manage to overlap in their writing on shared concerns like navigating the lines of romantic and platonic relationships, their city’s social scenes, and struggles in both the microcosmic experience of playing in a band and the zoomed-out challenges of living through late-stage capitalism.
Joy still touches every surface of Something We All Got. “Quarter Note Rock” bounces around the room in a fit of jangling guitar chords, scratched samples, and interplay between breakbeat loops and somersaulting live drums. It’s a blast of positivity even with lyrics about how disappointing it can be to meet your heroes. A smiling electro pop instrumental supports lyrics about having to step painfully away from an almost realized love on “Gingham Dress,” a song that subverts themes of domesticity as a backdrop for the dashed wilt of hopeless devotion.
Cootie Catcher rolls down hills and jumps through flaming hoops throughout Something We All Got without ever dumbing down the visceral emotions that drive these songs. There’s a palpable tension between the band’s exhilarating sonics and the raw, often uneasy sentiments expressed, but it’s an integral part of what makes them unique. Rather than hide behind the kind of calculated vagueness that plagues so much of the indie rock landscape in the time of cursed algorithms, Cootie Catcher runs full-speed toward every confusion and excitement, fearlessly direct and embracing the reality they’re in.

I started writing the songs for V at the beginning of 2023, and the demos were finished by the end of that year. While creating this material, I kept returning to one thought: everything we take for granted - everything that feels stable and permanent - is, in reality, incredibly fragile. Nothing lasts forever, and the sense of things slipping away can hit much sooner than we expect. I tried to translate those feelings into sound. At that time, a lot of difficult things were happening in my life, things I didn't know how to cope with. Music became a form of therapy - a way to process emotions I couldn't express in any other way. In early 2024, we began working through the songs together as a full band. After finalizing the arrangements, we spent the rest of the year recording them. The process stretched over many months, split into several sessions across different studios. I didn't want to rush anything. I wanted, as always, to refine every detail the best we possibly could. Soon you'll be able to hear the result for yourselves. For me, this album is something deeply personal. It's an act of opening up to anyone who chooses to listen - a glimpse into things I can't fully describe with words, into what I felt and who I became during that period. I'm incredibly happy that together with my friends from the band, we've created another record. What comes next_ time will tell.

Magenta Vinyl, limited to 450 copies. I started writing the songs for V at the beginning of 2023, and the demos were finished by the end of that year. While creating this material, I kept returning to one thought: everything we take for granted - everything that feels stable and permanent - is, in reality, incredibly fragile. Nothing lasts forever, and the sense of things slipping away can hit much sooner than we expect. I tried to translate those feelings into sound. At that time, a lot of difficult things were happening in my life, things I didn't know how to cope with. Music became a form of therapy - a way to process emotions I couldn't express in any other way. In early 2024, we began working through the songs together as a full band. After finalizing the arrangements, we spent the rest of the year recording them. The process stretched over many months, split into several sessions across different studios. I didn't want to rush anything. I wanted, as always, to refine every detail the best we possibly could. Soon you'll be able to hear the result for yourselves. For me, this album is something deeply personal. It's an act of opening up to anyone who chooses to listen - a glimpse into things I can't fully describe with words, into what I felt and who I became during that period. I'm incredibly happy that together with my friends from the band, we've created another record. What comes next_ time will tell.

Uw energieboost in plaatvorm: zo klinkt de nieuwe Admiral Freebee. Geboren uit een oerdrive om samen met zijn vrienden slash helden muziek te maken en de studio in te duiken. Openingstrack Seeking A Friend zet meteen de toon: drums zwellen aan, een snedige riff valt in en Tom Van Laere giet er een rauw ‘Armageddooon’ over uit. De wereld staat in brand en Admiral Freebee is er niet blind voor, maar het spelplezier staat voorop. Uptempo, groovy, dansbaar zelfs, met synths en welgemikte opzwepende HEY’s: negen songs lang spatten good times uit de muziek, van eerste single Q&A With Myself over knallers als Future Fathers Of Utopia en The Hunger. Zoals we van Admiral Freebee gewend zijn, is er ook ruimte voor humor en een introspectieve blik. Maar vergis je niet, een schoothondje is hij niet (No One’s Puppy). In slottrack Dog That Never Dies gaat de voet van het gaspedaal en legt het enige ingetogen nummer het album neer, als een synthese van alle thema’s die aan bod komen. En we mogen gerust zijn: met Admiral Freebee gaat het goed, en zowel hij als zijn muziek lopen over van het plezier. Even alle zorgen vergeten en genieten van pure fun.

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Your energy boost in record form: that’s how the new Admiral Freebee album sounds. Born from a primal desire to make music with his friends aka heroes and dive into the studio. Opening track Seeking A Friend sets the tone: drums swell, a sharp riff takes centre stage and Van Laere lets out a raw ‘Armageddooon’. The world is on fire and Admiral Freebee does not turn a blind eye, but first we have some fun. Uptempo, groovy, danceable even, with funky synths and a bunch of infectious HEYs: for nine songs good times are all over the place, from first single Q&A With Myself to bangers like Future Fathers Of Utopia and The Hunger. As always with Admiral Freebee, there’s also room for humor and he doesn’t shy away from introspection either. And make no mistake: Tom Van Laere is no lapdog (No One’s Puppy). Closing track Dog That Never Dies is the only intimate song on the album and sounds like a synthesis of all the album’s themes. And rest assured: Admiral Freebee is doing fine, and both him and his music are bursting with joy. So leave your worries behind for a moment and have some raw fun.

Picture by Ed Templeton/ Courtesy Tim Van Laere Gallery

Artwork by Jelle Jespers

Admiral Freebee is Tom Van Laere – Tim Coene, Senne Guns en Laurens Billiet. Recorded in summer 2025.

San Francisco–born singer-songwriter Ben Kweller returns with Cover The Mirrors, his seventh studio album — and perhaps his most personal work to date. Known in the late ’90s as a member of post-grunge outfit Radish, who were signed to Mercury Records and even counted Nils Lofgren among their fans, Kweller has since carved out a long and prolific solo career rooted in melodic indie rock and unfiltered emotion. Cover The Mirrors is a deeply poignant record, written in honour of what would have been Kweller’s late son Dorian Zev’s 19th birthday. It also marks Kweller’s first release since Dorian’s tragic passing in 2023 — an event that reshaped both his life and his music. Far from retreating into silence, Kweller channels his grief into a collection of songs that explore loss, love, and renewal with raw honesty. “This is the most personal, emotionally raw project I've ever worked on,” he reflects, and every track bears that truth. The album features an impressive roster of collaborators from across the indie landscape: Waxahatchee joins on “Dollar Store,” a sparse and arresting song built on two vocals and a guitar that eventually erupts into a distorted, soaring finale; MJ Lenderman lends his touch to “Oh Dorian,” a tender tribute steeped in warmth and melancholy; Jason Schwartzman resurrects his mid-aughts project Coconut Records for the haunting “Depression”; and psych-rock icons The Flaming Lips appear on the shimmering, otherworldly “Killer Bee.” Musically, Kweller’s craft is as sharp and sincere as ever — intimate yet expansive, stripped-down yet powerful. Cover The Mirrors captures an artist walking through grief with purpose, turning heartbreak into something both fragile and transcendent. It’s the sound of Ben Kweller looking loss directly in the eye — and finding beauty, courage, and connection reflected back. - “One of the great American songwriters” – Jack Antonoff TRACKLIST: A1. Going Insane A2. Dollar Store (feat. Waxahatchee) A3. Trapped A4. Park Harvey Fire Drill A5. Depression (feat. Coconut Records) A6. Don't Cave B1. Optimystic B2. Brakes B3. Killer Bee (feat. The Flaming Lips) B4. Letter To Agony B5. Save Yourself B6. Oh Dorian (feat. MJ Lenderman) Clear Vinyl LP