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Ten years ago, Anderson .Paak didn't just release an album; he staged a full-scale takeover of the soul and hip-hop landscape. Released on January 15, 2016, Malibu served as the definitive arrival of an artist who had spent years grinding in the underground before a star-making turn on Dr. Dre’s Compton. While his previous work hinted at his potential, Malibu was the moment the world met the "Cheeky Andy" persona in full—a virtuosic drummer, a raspy-voiced crooner, and a sharp-witted rapper all rolled into one. The album is a sprawling, sun-drenched journey through the Southern California coast, blending 1970s funk, church-reared gospel, and gritty boom-bap into something that feels both nostalgic and entirely futuristic. With a heavyweight production lineup including 9th Wonder, Madlib, Kaytranada, and Hi-Tek, the record maintains a warm, analog texture that was a breath of fresh air in an increasingly digital era. It’s an album that breathes, full of intentional imperfections and the kind of "in-the-pocket" groove that can only come from a seasoned live performer. Beyond the infectious, dance-floor-ready energy of tracks like "Am I Wrong" and "Come Down," the album is a deeply autobiographical masterwork. .Paak uses the 65-minute runtime to unpack his life story with startling clarity, touching on his mother’s gambling addiction, his father’s incarceration, and his own brushes with homelessness with a sense of resilience that never feels heavy-handed. He weaves these heavy themes through a lens of triumph, grounded by vintage surfing documentary samples that give the project its cinematic, coastal atmosphere. It’s a celebratory record born out of struggle, anchored by his impeccable technicality on the drums and a guest list—featuring ScHoolboy Q, Rapsody, and The Game—that feels hand-picked to complement his specific brand of West Coast swagger. A decade later, Malibu stands as a modern classic and the blueprint for the soulful revivalism that would eventually lead .Paak to global superstardom and Grammy-winning heights. It remains a testament to the idea that the most profound music often comes from the most personal places, proving ten years on that the best way to move forward is to stay rooted in the groove.

Ten years ago, Anderson .Paak didn't just release an album; he staged a full-scale takeover of the soul and hip-hop landscape. Released on January 15, 2016, Malibu served as the definitive arrival of an artist who had spent years grinding in the underground before a star-making turn on Dr. Dre’s Compton. While his previous work hinted at his potential, Malibu was the moment the world met the "Cheeky Andy" persona in full—a virtuosic drummer, a raspy-voiced crooner, and a sharp-witted rapper all rolled into one. The album is a sprawling, sun-drenched journey through the Southern California coast, blending 1970s funk, church-reared gospel, and gritty boom-bap into something that feels both nostalgic and entirely futuristic. With a heavyweight production lineup including 9th Wonder, Madlib, Kaytranada, and Hi-Tek, the record maintains a warm, analog texture that was a breath of fresh air in an increasingly digital era. It’s an album that breathes, full of intentional imperfections and the kind of "in-the-pocket" groove that can only come from a seasoned live performer. Beyond the infectious, dance-floor-ready energy of tracks like "Am I Wrong" and "Come Down," the album is a deeply autobiographical masterwork. .Paak uses the 65-minute runtime to unpack his life story with startling clarity, touching on his mother’s gambling addiction, his father’s incarceration, and his own brushes with homelessness with a sense of resilience that never feels heavy-handed. He weaves these heavy themes through a lens of triumph, grounded by vintage surfing documentary samples that give the project its cinematic, coastal atmosphere. It’s a celebratory record born out of struggle, anchored by his impeccable technicality on the drums and a guest list—featuring ScHoolboy Q, Rapsody, and The Game—that feels hand-picked to complement his specific brand of West Coast swagger. A decade later, Malibu stands as a modern classic and the blueprint for the soulful revivalism that would eventually lead .Paak to global superstardom and Grammy-winning heights. It remains a testament to the idea that the most profound music often comes from the most personal places, proving ten years on that the best way to move forward is to stay rooted in the groove.

Ten years ago, Anderson .Paak didn't just release an album; he staged a full-scale takeover of the soul and hip-hop landscape. Released on January 15, 2016, Malibu served as the definitive arrival of an artist who had spent years grinding in the underground before a star-making turn on Dr. Dre’s Compton. While his previous work hinted at his potential, Malibu was the moment the world met the "Cheeky Andy" persona in full—a virtuosic drummer, a raspy-voiced crooner, and a sharp-witted rapper all rolled into one. The album is a sprawling, sun-drenched journey through the Southern California coast, blending 1970s funk, church-reared gospel, and gritty boom-bap into something that feels both nostalgic and entirely futuristic. With a heavyweight production lineup including 9th Wonder, Madlib, Kaytranada, and Hi-Tek, the record maintains a warm, analog texture that was a breath of fresh air in an increasingly digital era. It’s an album that breathes, full of intentional imperfections and the kind of "in-the-pocket" groove that can only come from a seasoned live performer. Beyond the infectious, dance-floor-ready energy of tracks like "Am I Wrong" and "Come Down," the album is a deeply autobiographical masterwork. .Paak uses the 65-minute runtime to unpack his life story with startling clarity, touching on his mother’s gambling addiction, his father’s incarceration, and his own brushes with homelessness with a sense of resilience that never feels heavy-handed. He weaves these heavy themes through a lens of triumph, grounded by vintage surfing documentary samples that give the project its cinematic, coastal atmosphere. It’s a celebratory record born out of struggle, anchored by his impeccable technicality on the drums and a guest list—featuring ScHoolboy Q, Rapsody, and The Game—that feels hand-picked to complement his specific brand of West Coast swagger. A decade later, Malibu stands as a modern classic and the blueprint for the soulful revivalism that would eventually lead .Paak to global superstardom and Grammy-winning heights. It remains a testament to the idea that the most profound music often comes from the most personal places, proving ten years on that the best way to move forward is to stay rooted in the groove.

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

Somewhere close to Manchester’s ever changing city centre, as the sun fades and peeks through the newest glass facade, you’ll find Shaking Hand. One part in shadow, the other basking in prisms of light as they sketch out their own sonic landscapes in the dusty redbrick mill they call home. One that is just about clinging on from the encroaching developments that surround them.

Against this back-drop where buildings are constantly torn down & built back again, the three piece craft away. Pulling from early post-rock, and 90s US alternative rock, crafting their own brand of Northwest-emo. Assembling something new, yet nostalgic. Looking ahead towards the transforming horizon. Shaking Hand’s music is built on tension and release – quiets that stretch, louds that overwhelm. Repetition that feels both hypnotic and destabilising.

The band’s musical DNA runs through experimental guitar outfits like Women, Slint, Sonic Youth, Pavement, and Ulrika Spacek, balanced with the melodic sensibility of Big Thief and the dynamic intimacy of Yo La Tengo. Their compositions push against structure: sudden jolts of tempo, polyrhythms that almost fall apart, and riffs that unravel into something fragile or ecstatic. Yet, as Ellis notes, there’s an underlying warmth too: “Like walking through an empty city late at night but catching flickers of life in the buildings you pass.”

Early ideas like ‘Night Owl’ and ‘Sundance’ grew out of George’s lockdown “bedroom years,” where new tunings (open E, drop D, and stranger Pavement-inspired set-ups) opened up uncharted textures. Later, in grim rehearsal rooms, the murky epic ‘Cable Ties’ and the hypnotic ‘Mantras’ absorbed the gloom and grit of the band’s surroundings.

The album was recorded with producer David Pye (Wild Beasts, Teenage Fanclub) at Nave Studios in Leeds, housed in a converted church. “The live room was huge and perfect for capturing our sound,” says George. Determined to bottle their onstage energy, the band tracked the foundations live, layering vocals and guitars later. Soviet-era microphones, odd mic placements, and even phone-recorded demos fed into the mix. “You’ve got to watch out for David though,” Freddie laughs. “He made me play four tambourines in one hand, really hurt, man.”

Lyrically, the record drifts between abstraction and lived moments. George’s words often spill out instinctively, words falling into place before their meaning becomes clear. “A lot of the lyrics look like they’re buried in abstraction,” he says, “but when I look back I can see what they were about — whether that’s an emotional response at the time or just an observation of what was happening around me”. There’s contrast at the heart of it all – optimism vs. doubt, the lightness of youth vs. the monotony of work, a city in constant redevelopment vs. the people drifting through it.

The album artwork is taken from unused plans for the 1970s redevelopment of Los Angeles by architect Ray Kappe, entitled ‘People Movers’. Hypothetical buildings for real people, it feels a complement to the band’s own constructions. One thing’s for sure, Shaking Hand’s debut is built to last.

Preston duo White Flowers announce new album, Dreams For Somebody Else - due for release 1st May 2026 via The state51 Conspiracy.
White Flowers, the long-running collaboration between Joey Cobb and Katie Drew, exists within what they call “the realm” – a shared creative space, wherein time, rather than being a restrictive force, is fluid and boundless, and music exists as an endless conversation with their past and present selves. Adopting what the band describe as a “sketchbook” approach to writing, White Flowers is the product of a decade’s worth of recordings - snippets nestled away on hard drives, only to truly make sense years later.
On Dreams For Somebody Else, the band expand upon the dark-hued dream pop of their debut, channeling the catharsis of dance music via repetitive structures and “sad, euphoric sounds”. Working alongside LCD Soundsystem and Hot Chip’s Al Doyle on production, the album maps out a mosaic of soaring choruses that swirl around imposing arrays of synths, guitars, and percussion.
Through this new lens, the band explore themes of isolation, dissociation and identity - drawing inspiration from Annie Ernaux’s The Years. “Whilst recording the songs for ‘Dreams For Somebody Else’, we really connected with the concept of Annie Ernaux’s book, ‘The Years’ - a ‘collective autobiography’ pieced together from mismatched fragments from her past, conjuring the effect that she’s merely an observer of her own life. This concept merges into the White Flowers world, where time, rather than being restrictive, is fluid and boundless, with our music existing as an endless conversation with versions of ourselves at different stages of our lives.”
“The album has that same feeling of disassociating from your own life, because you’re just blending into everyone else”, the band explains. “There’s a sadness there, because it’s as if you’re looking back on things that happened to you, and they feel like they don’t belong to you anymore”. It’s the dull ache of nostalgia intertwined with a sense of wonder at what could lie ahead - the hopeful optimism and endless loss that defines the human experience. “It’s this idea of identity not being a fixed thing, but something that’s always changing. It’s a fluid thing, similar to time. Things aren’t really fixed, but rather in a constant state of change. It’s important to remember that we’re all going through that.”

HLZ delivers his debut album for Metalheadz with 'All My Life', a project shaped by patience, experience and a deep rooted connection to the label's sound. The album began with the title track, first played during Goldie's residency at XOYO before eventually making its way to the label, and it was from that moment that the idea of a full-length record started to take shape. Around the same time HLZ moved back to Italy, embracing a slower pace of life that gave him the space and focus to bring the project together. Rather than following a fixed concept, 'All My Life' grew naturally in the studio. HLZ approached the process with what he calls a sense of humble confidence, trusting his instincts while staying grounded in the culture that shaped him. The aim was simple: to make music that could last beyond the short cycles that often define modern releases. Across the album, HLZ moves between soulful depth with a classic Metalheadz twang, into moments that push beyond his usual territory. From the title track's unmistakable Headz spirit to more exploratory pieces like 'Roadblock' and the introspective 'Solitary', 'All My Life' captures an artist fully settled in his voice. More than anything, the album reflects HLZ's deep connection to the music and the sound that has influenced him from the very beginning.

Another Country is the fifth full-length album by Cindy, the San Francisco-based group built around the songwriting of Karina Gill. Recorded, like all of its predecessors, in their hometown and with a consistent line-up held over from their previous record (the Swan Lake EP from 2024), it is replete with the poetry of private vistas, eavesdropped dramas and confusing winds. These are classic Cindy concerns, and yet, as always, contain new mystery and charm to somehow feel like quiet revelations each time. Another Country is both opaque in its intentions and specific in its presentation, and as such presents the kind of truth that keeps the listener on the search for answers just out of reach.
"The title of this record, Another Country, refers to the James Baldwin novel of that name. The book has a kind of drama that makes sense to me. When I look around, the obvious explanations are not enough. The miasma of feelings and ideas that is supposed to account for it all, doesn't. Baldwin washes past that to longings that begin to explain. Cindy songs come out of the x-rays my particular brain makes out of what I see and experience. What you hear on this record is the result of collaboration with the members of Cindy that transforms that shadowy thing into full color, fully fleshed. Each of them, in music, is sure-footed and unblinking, and making this record together felt like, yes, yes, you see what I mean."
Cindy is Karina, Staizsh, Will & Oli. Another Country will be released on 1st May 2026 via Tough Love.

Calibre announces his new album 'Tricklemore Sea', set for release on vinyl and digital on 1st May via Signature Recordings.

A deeply personal and exploratory body of work, the album moves through ambient, shoegaze, electronic, blues and folk, all subtly shaped by the low-end sensibility that has defined his music for decades. It resists easy categorisation, reflecting an ongoing interest in blending bass culture with forms that sit outside it. Following the release of 'They Want You' at the end of 2025, this new project marks a clear shift in tone. Where that record leans into intensity and forward momentum, 'Tricklemore Sea' turns inward, occupying a more introspective space. Featuring entirely his own vocals and production, it carries a more exposed and vulnerable quality.

The album has taken shape gradually, drawing from material written in the years after 'Planet Hearth'. Rather than forming around a fixed concept, it emerges as a collection of pieces connected by tone and instinct. Tracks move between simplicity and abstraction, with piano-led compositions sitting alongside field recordings, improvisations and bass-driven works. Ideas often begin quickly, then evolve over long periods of revisiting and reworking. His voice takes on a more central role throughout, bringing a heightened sense of vulnerability. Lyrics and delivery are often left open, allowing space for interpretation. His process remains fluid and instinctive, with ideas written quickly, revisited over time and combined across different periods.

Moments such as 'Little Blend' carry a quiet melancholia balanced with hope, while 'Free One' reflects on the pressures of contemporary life. The title track considers the scale of human existence within a wider universe, framing individual lives as small but meaningful within something larger. Elsewhere, 'Deflower' and 'Pigeon Luncheon' draw from recordings made in Berlin at the end of lockdown, capturing a sense of movement and return. Older material, including 'Living In Your Head' and 'Hyndsight', is recontextualised and sits naturally alongside newer work. Threads from his wider catalogue remain present. 'Able Son Dub' nods to longstanding reggae influences, while 'Bit Broken Stream' appears here in a downtempo form alongside its drum and bass counterpart from 'They Want You'. Tracks like 'United Pull' and 'Mizzle Mine' lean further into abstraction, using minimal language and space to suggest mood rather than define it.

Over more than 30 years, Calibre has built a catalogue that moves across drum and bass, ambient, dub, techno, house, jazz, soul, blues and folk. His work is marked by restraint, quiet melancholy and a singular approach that continues to evolve. Complete authorship remains central, with all vocals, lyrics and production on both 'They Want You' and 'Tricklemore Sea' created solely by him. This breadth extends into his DJ sets, where he draws heavily from his own catalogue, often performing entirely self-produced material across a wide range of tempos and styles. His ability to move between contexts has seen him play at Boomtown, Houghton and Atonal Berlin, delivering distinct sets while maintaining a clear identity.

With 'Tricklemore Sea', that identity leans toward stillness, introspection and emotional depth. It is a record that prioritises feeling over definition, holding space for ambiguity while remaining grounded in a strong sense of authorship. Each release carries an element of exposure, a moment of vulnerability in letting the work go. At its core, the album seeks to capture something fleeting but recognisable, a sense of beauty that sits just beyond language.

He describes it simply: "The river inside of me flowing into the sea."

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

Collecting Orders For 2025 Repress

Backing it up can mean so many things. According to the urban dictionary, it means to carry on drinking the next day in spite of a rather large one the night before. According to Apple, it means to take your I-phone and attach it to an I-pad or Apple Mac - and copy the information to the cloud. Or the device. But in music.....what we mean is basically this....."Damn......that was a big hit......how the hell are they going to emulate that success on the next one."And it's hard for so many reasons. Was it luck Timing That one in a million sample With all the pressure, soon the artist can start second guessing themselves........and that's when backing it up becomes a real problem.But not for our boy PURPLE DISCO MACHINE. If BODY FUNK, his last outing on CLUB SWEAT, wasn't one of THE biggest songs of last year, from Ibiza to Miami and back again.....played by every single DJ under the sun, from BLACK MADONNA to JAMIE JONES to your mama......then I'm not sitting at my lap top writing this shpeel....which I'm very sure I am. AND I'm going to back myself (see what I did there) - and say that DISHED (MALE STRIPPER) is the best way to back up a hit ever. With another hit. Doesn't sound the same....doesn't worry about what the last one did...just does what it does.....which to be honest - is GO OFF!!!! It builds and builds and builds and......In the same way that BODY FUNK masterly made the sum of 2 disco songs bigger than their parts had ever been, this time PDM takes some Italo Disco from MAN TO MAN MEET MAN PARRISH's MALE STRIPPER and mashes it with the aptly named ELLIS D's DISHAPELLA to create a 12/10. Back it up PDM - you are a legend!!!!

Gap Mangione's monumentally influential Diana In The Autumn Wind. AKA BEWITH200LP. And, without question, Be With's White Whale.

They said it could never be done. And with good reason.

We've spent the past 12 years trying to license this legendary 1968 recording from Gap and, after much work, it's finally here. Remarkably, this is the first ever vinyl reissue of Gap Mangione's Diana In The Autumn Wind, produced with the full and extensive participation of Gap. An exceedingly rare album, it's been coveted by funk, soul, jazz and hip-hop sample fiends for decades.

It's unarguably *the* most sought after album for J Dilla / Madlib sample collectors. It has also been brilliantly sampled by A Tribe Called Quest, Large Professor, Ghostface Killah, Kendrick Lamar and Talib Kweli.

But this record is so much more than a sample-spotters curio. It's solid gold throughout. Bursting with killer funky-jazz grooves and tracks adorned with warm electric piano, the release is notable for featuring some extremely significant players at the very outset of their careers; Tony Levin, at 21, whose superb playing on both acoustic and electric bass was the harmonic mainstay of the trio and Steve Gadd, at 23, one of the greatest drummers of his generation.

With acceptable copies of this holy grail changing hands for $400, to call this reissue "much-needed" underplays just how vital it is. Gap's story is told in his words alongside rare photos across a sumptuously designed 2-page insert and, to augment this deluxe edition further, its all wrapped up in a beautiful, no-expense-spared luxury tip-on sleeve, as per the original hens-teeth release. And, while we're talking packaging, just take a look at that cover - a work of art in and of itself.

The tracks are short but complex, with that extraordinary rhythm section backing the beautiful piano, organ and electric piano work of Gap. It's like the best ever library funk breaks record you never heard - but all your favourite golden age rap producers were all over it, long ago. It's a stunning blend of the vibrant, driving music of the Gap Mangione Trio coupled with the sensitive composition and superb orchestration of Gap's legendary brother, Chuck Mangione, who helmed an amalgam of seemingly disparate elements – rock, big band jazz, solo improvisation and "classical" music - into a spectacularly cohesive whole that has aged wonderfully well. As Gap himself notes in the liners, "with this group I was able to explore and add new and exciting elements from rock, Brazilian and then-current pop music."

Opener "Boy With Toys" triumphantly swaggers out the gate, all big band horns, flutes and dextrous organ work. The synthesis of everything going on is nothing short of stunning. When one wise YouTube commentator called this tune "old school superhero music", Gap agreed. Rap luminaries did, too, amongst them Talib Kweli, who rapped over DJ Scratch's chopped up intro for "Shock Body" on his Quality album back in 2002.

You've barely recovered from that incredibly affecting opener when you get hit over the head with the exquisite title-track. And now you see how two of the greatest beats of all time emerged from one single track produced nearly 50 years earlier. Unforgettably utilised by Dilla for Slum Village's heartbreakingly good "Fall In Love" and then Madlib for his "Official" beat for Dilla to rap over, on the Jaylib record. Regardless of the records it went on to spawn, this is just a staggering tune in its own right. Be beguiled by the flutes and the flutter tonguing, the counter-melody from the trombones, the soprano sax solo. All of it. Simply beautiful.

The questing organ and horn workout "Long Hair Soulful" deserves a lot more attention, overshadowed somewhat by the opening two monsters but no less fantastic. It swings, it grooves and Gadd and Levin truly cook. Up next, Gap's wonderfully percussive, mellifluously piano-heavy cover of "Yesterday" by some fellas called The Beatles. It's a subtly arresting gem. "The XIth Commandment" is damn fine, with thick, gorgeous electric piano and snappy drum work underpinning chaotic soundtracky horns. To close out the side, "St. Thomas" showcases the "fourth" member of the Gap Mangione Trio, conga drummer Dhui Mandingo. Having performed with the Trio since 1965, Dhui‘s African-based and jazz-latin-influenced style amazed listeners and its way to hear why.

Opening the B-Side, standard "You're Nobody Till Somebody Loves You" breezes along in the late-night jazz club fashion before things get super deep with the outstanding and - up to now - un-sampled "Pond With Swans". It's simply heavenly, and how its moody, melancholic intro has yet to be pilfered is anybody's guess. It oscillates between gentle, sombre movements and bombastic grooves, equally hypnotic and joyous. The rendition of "You Are My Sunshine" is yet another showcase for Gap's virtuoso playing and Gadd's mastery of the pocket. Indeed Gadd's drumming on "Free Again" is nothing short of neck-SNAPPING! Ghostface took it for not one but two "Iron's Theme" tracks across his seminal Supreme Clientele. It's got that Galt MacDermot "Coffee Cold" feel. Suuuuuper cool. The frantic "Dream On Little Dreamer" hurtles along and must've surely had the whole room absolutely swinging from the chandeliers back in Rochester in the late 60s. The album closes with the magnificent Graduate Medley, featuring memorable renditions of "Scarborough Fair", "The Sounds of Silence" and "Mrs. Robinson". The warm electric piano lines of the former were sampled by The Ummah (Dilla again!) for Tribe's "Pad & Pen" from their reappraised final album, The Love Movement, as well as by Large Professor on his much-loved "The LP (For My People)".

Under the watchful eye - and extremely attentive ears - of Gap Mangione himself, the audio for Diana In The Autumn Wind has been carefully remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, with a few much needed tweaks here and there, according to the artist's wishes. At the prestigious Abbey Road Studios, Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at the always stellar Record Industry in Holland. The artwork restoration has taken place here at Be With HQ and has that drop-dead gorgeous cover artwork popping like new. Buy on sight!

Increasingly essential US artist Ben Hixon drops sublime deep house EP on Kai Alce's faultless NDATL Muzik. The six classy tracks will appeal to those who appreciate the subtleties of the classic Midwestern sound.

Ben is a Texas-born, but Brooklyn-based artist who has become a firm favourite of true deep house heads in the last year or so. He has put out several EPs on Dolfin, all of which find a perfect sweet spot between immersive atmospheres and late-night drive. Dusty analogue textures and frayed edges define his drums, while the subtle details are intelligent and add effortless emotion. He is a perfect fit for NDATL Muzik, the Atlanta label that has long been a flagbearer for well-crafted house grooves like these.

'Taping' kicks off with heavy kicks that swing under gentle chords that are perfect for after dark. There's a persuasive bump in the beats that will get early evening dancers primed and ready for more. Next up we have 'Y Do U Get So Nervous' - a mastery of sampling with nagging vocal hooks, cascading piano keys and wet finger clicks all adding soul to another low-key but all-consuming groove. 'Area Code 336 Phone Rings' is a higgledy-piggledy tapestry of toms and stuttering kicks with vocal fragments to match - the thrill is the looseness of it all. The smouldering and meandering 'December Blackout' is for gazing off it into the distance at the busy yet muted jazz keys that twinkle like faraway stars. 'It's Like A Vision' picks up the pace with more closely stacked kicks but still oodles of cuddly warmth and smudged synth work, before '0823' ends with a decidedly heavy feel - spare, lump drums unfurl beneath forlorn synths that feel utterly bruised and heartbroken.

Ben Hixon's deft artistry makes these quiet, texture tunes irresistibly danceable yet emotionally profound.

There comes a point in every bands life when originality stops being a virtue and honesty takes the wheel. On their 11th long-playing record: Forgeries (72-84)-(16)- return to the impulse that first dragged them into loud rooms and bad ideas: the urge to steal what we love and make it semi-unrecognizable through devotion. We have partnered with Heavy Psych Sounds Records to release a collection of covers that function less as homage and more as a possession to be given away. The artworkrendered by the ever-amazing Maraldcompletes the ritualiconicunsettlingand unafraid. Weve always believed that a great cover is not mimicry but revelation. Its finding a song that's already lived inside you since youth and letting it crawl outbruised and changed. From the early 90s onward-(16)- have treated covers as translations rather than as replicasacts of tribute and emulationfiltered through distortionfatigueand lived experience. These are songs that taught us how to standhow to falland how to keep going. In our collective headthis album exists because these songs demanded it. Because they screamed copy meand we listened. In the endForgeries (72-84) stands as both a thank you note and a thefta reminder that all music worth a damn is borrowedbrokenand passed on between friends. The selections on Forgeries 72-84 span eras and attitudesunified not by genre but by necessity. Each track is a document of obsessionof influence absorbed and re-expressed without permission.

There comes a point in every bands life when originality stops being a virtue and honesty takes the wheel. On their 11th long-playing record: Forgeries (72-84)-(16)- return to the impulse that first dragged them into loud rooms and bad ideas: the urge to steal what we love and make it semi-unrecognizable through devotion. We have partnered with Heavy Psych Sounds Records to release a collection of covers that function less as homage and more as a possession to be given away. The artworkrendered by the ever-amazing Maraldcompletes the ritualiconicunsettlingand unafraid. Weve always believed that a great cover is not mimicry but revelation. Its finding a song that's already lived inside you since youth and letting it crawl outbruised and changed. From the early 90s onward-(16)- have treated covers as translations rather than as replicasacts of tribute and emulationfiltered through distortionfatigueand lived experience. These are songs that taught us how to standhow to falland how to keep going. In our collective headthis album exists because these songs demanded it. Because they screamed copy meand we listened. In the endForgeries (72-84) stands as both a thank you note and a thefta reminder that all music worth a damn is borrowedbrokenand passed on between friends. The selections on Forgeries 72-84 span eras and attitudesunified not by genre but by necessity. Each track is a document of obsessionof influence absorbed and re-expressed without permission.

“Tako” means “octopus”, “kite”, and even “bunion” in Japanese. Bald men or men with shaven heads, as well as red-faced, staggering drunks, are also referred to as “tako”. It’s a word that appears in a lot of slang and sayings. Taco is also the name of an 80s music and performance collective whose performances were like nothing before or since. The Japanese band Taco, formed at the beginning of the 80s, is a loose group/collective of varying members that belongs to the post-punk alternative music movement. The network of members were all friends and acquaintances of Harumi Yamazaki, ex-member of Gaseneta and Taco’s central member.

Taco can be described as a band of guerrillas who, over the years, continued to connect, collect, interrupt, and scatter while sending out into the world music and sounds that can best be described as transient. Taco also performed without Harumi, and so it is as though the band is an anonymous group of mercenaries. Taco’s first album was released in 1983 and had a huge impact on Japan’s underground music scene as an anomalous and collaborative album involving various participating artists (the stars of Japan’s underground music scene!) and Harumi, who provided the lyrics. Although each track represents a reverberating conglomeration of sounds created by this transient local network, common to all the tracks are Harumi’s expressive lyrics. This has the effect of transforming all the tracks into a single powerful force which, in turn, spawns an “incident” which spreads like a giant ripple. However, because of another incident in which the records were recalled due to the scandal caused by some of the lyrics, only a limited number of people actually own a copy of the album. Taco’s second album (a 12” EP), released in 1984, features a live recording of a performance that was held at the end of 1982. Taco is a band of indeterminate members which only ever played one-off performances, but this is an album that reveals a unit whose performance was unusually musically coherent. This is an album which effectively conveys the power of Taco’s astounding and legendary live performances, as well as Harumi’s inflammatory, sensational, and masochistic presence on stage. Her mutterings and screams, which practically ignore the detached beat, confront the audience like an overwhelming groundswell.

The following is a description of Taco by one of its members following one of its live performances: “Taco’s like a project where the indeterminate participants fan each other’s heightened emotions of wanting to wreak personal revenge and retribution. It’s an ecosystem of tangible and intangible mouldy slime which accumulates in order for emotions to be acted out, both indoors in the studio, or outdoors on stage. That’s why the avenger can often end up being the victim.”

Nameless, March 1985

Returning to Peak Oil for a second expedition, veteran Russian producer Kirill Vasin, aka Hoavi, explores an untrodden path on 'architectonics', drawing from his lifelong appreciation of Indonesian gamelan musics to mastermind a rhythmelodic hybrid sound that's sinuous, subtle and remarkably dubby. Over the last three and a half years, Vasin has used the music's methodologies and rhythmic forms to evolve his existing processes and signatures and transform his musical philosophy. To start the exercise, he knew he needed percussion, so used his phone and a contact microphone to pick up nearby sounds, drumming on various tables, railings, empty glasses and other objects to create a library of textured, tonally complex percussive sounds. But the work wasn't done yet - in fact, it was just the beginning of a long process of trial and error: Vasin created two full versions of the album before 'architectonics' was finished.

There are still echoes of the chrome-plated sci-fi atmospheres and complex, stuttering beatscapes that underpinned 2021's 'Invariant', but 'architectonics' asks very different questions, prompting fresher, more innovative responses. Leaning on his bank of organic percussive sounds, Vasin is able to concoct a tactile aura that he fills with eerie fluctuating repetitions that shift subtly, sometimes imperceptibly. The cavernous reverb and booming bass that supported his last few albums is still present, now employed as scaffolding for different architectures: skittering sequences and ornamented overlapping phrases that owe as much to Steve Reich's hallowed minimalist compositions as they do to Indonesian traditional forms. Lulling, almost hypnotic tessellations appear like fractals on the polished surfaces, morphing from jazz to techno and dub while retaining gamelan's haunting xenharmonic resonances and Vasin's concept becomes crystal clear. 'architectonics' isn't an attempt to make a gamelan album, it's Vasin's way of developing his own artistic process by looking far beyond the traditional boundaries of electronic music.

Oliver Koletzki Releases Twelfth Studio Album 12

The beautifully crafted twelve-track opus is out now via Stil vor Talent.
Berlin-based artist, DJ, producer and Stil vor Talent co-founder Oliver Koletzki today releases his twelfth studio album, “12” — a deeply considered, emotionally rich long-player that marks the next chapter in a career spanning more than two decades at the forefront of electronic music. The album is out now on Stil vor Talent in digital formats and as a 2x12” gatefold vinyl.

Serving as both a milestone and a manifesto, “12” distils Koletzki’s evolving sound into its most refined form yet. Across twelve tracks, the album explores atmosphere, restraint and emotional clarity, balancing slow-burning club energy with introspective storytelling. It’s a record shaped by experience, patience and an unwavering attention to detail; qualities that have long defined Koletzki’s output as both an artist and a label curator.

The journey begins with album opener “Petrichor”, a quietly powerful introduction built around wistful organ chords that gradually unfold into a warm, hypnotic groove. Acting as the album’s emotional threshold, the track sets the tone for what follows: music that rewards immersion, thrives on nuance and unfolds with deliberate pace. From there, 12 moves seamlessly between introspective moments and more direct dance floor statements, always guided by Koletzki’s unmistakable melodic sensibility.

Singles released in the lead-up to the album offered carefully sequenced glimpses into its breadth. December’s “Trip With Me”, a collaboration with Frida Darko, brought playful energy and sharp modern club dynamics, while January’s “I Don’t Need Your Love” delivered a confident, emotionally charged statement rooted in Koletzki’s introspective yet club-ready DNA. February’s “Petrichor” revealed the album’s cinematic depth, followed by “Schnapsidee” in March — a track that leans into groove, character and subtle eccentricity.

Elsewhere on the album, tracks like “Logic”, “It’s All Gone” and “Tick Tick” showcase Koletzki’s ability to create tension and release through finely balanced arrangements, while “La Hora de Mosquitos” and “Calle Sur” hint at the global influences that continue to shape his sound. The closing stretch — from “About the Fox and a Tiger” through “What Remains” to “Voice or Noise” (with Frida Darko) — brings the album to a reflective, yet characteristically playful conclusion.

As a whole, “12” feels purposeful and cohesive, guided by a clear narrative arc rather than fleeting trends. It reflects the maturity of an artist with nothing left to prove, yet still driven by curiosity and a desire to evolve. Much like Koletzki’s previous albums, “12” stands as a self-contained world, inviting listeners to step inside and stay.

Released on Stil vor Talent, the album also reinforces the label’s ethos of artistic freedom, quality and long-term vision. Now over 20 years strong, the imprint continues to shape contemporary electronic music while remaining deeply rooted in underground culture: a balance Koletzki himself has embodied throughout his career.

4/5 Mojo review: ‘Sparse, hypnotic big-room techno that builds from the bass drum up

Double LP is released on 140gm black vinyl in a transparent gloss foil sleeve, artwork and design by Ian Anderson for Designers Republic. Circuitry Electronic launches with a release that stands as a statement of intent - an artist with few true peers within English electronic music, with an album that jumps out of the speakers and slaps you around the chops. G-Man is Gez Varley - one half of Sheffield pioneers LFO, and thirty years into his solo career, with his first vinyl album release since Avanti on Force Inc way back in 2002. Speaking to DJ magazine in 2014 Gez recalled his early days working with Mark Bell as LFO: “We were influenced by groups like 808 State. Unique 3, Nightmares On Wax and also stuff like Kraftwerk, Detroit techno and early electro. So when we first hooked up and made tunes together we just wanted to rock the dancefloor at our local club The Warehouse”.

Their eponymous track ‘LFO’ – a classic of the bleep and bass techno movement – was one of the first releases on the Warp label, gate- crashing the UK’s Top 20 whilst annoying Simon Mayo along the way. Having worked with the likes of Richie Hawtin, Karl Bartos, Laurent Garnier, Art of Noise, Radiohead, YMO and Alan Wilder, in addition to the LFO output, you'd expect Gez to know his way around a techno dancefloor rhythm and drum pattern, and this is an inventive funk-filled journey that never veers too far into experimental territory yet avoids the cliches and generic tropes that too often lose the listener when techno manifests in album form.