Search:the 3 pieces

In recent years, Midge Ure has spent his time playing live and not has time to fully immerse himself in the studios creating music To that end A Man of Two Worlds is his first album of new material in 12 years. Well worth the wait, the album is a formidable collection of outstanding music, divided into two clear parts.

The first half, World One: Music, consists of eight instrumental pieces, while the second half, World Two: Songs, features eight vocal songs. This concept was partly inspired by the time Midge spent during lockdown listening to instrumental music whilst presenting THE SPACE on Scala Radio. Hearing music that rarely finds a home on mainstream radio, he set about making something without lyrics, where the melodies had to speak for themselves. The eight vocal songs which form the second part of the album, came to Midge as the world reopened. A more divided world, in many ways a much harder and less empathetic one. Sharing an atmosphere with the preceding instrumentals, these songs are incredibly sparse and meditative, and whilst they are subtle, with some songs dealing with the frailty of the human condition, underlying many songs reflect Midge's concerns for the discord infecting world today.

Redux, an ambient-folk album from Portland, Oregon musician, poet, and multimedia artist Dao Strom, is a collection of nine resurrected pieces. Reimagining songs she initially composed as a member of the Austin, Texas alt-country and singer-songwriter scenes of the early 2000s, Strom reworks these lost songs into ambient-folk mini-epics—part grounded and earthly, part ethereal and otherworldly. Drawing on an intimate yet spacious palette of folk, ambient, and experimental textures, woven through with a poetics of vulnerability and quiet emotion, Redux explores song as gently reverberant fields of layered vocals over finger-picked guitars with touches of electronics and sampling. Strom’s musical journey initially began in a roots and acoustic vein, simultaneously with her career as a fiction writer. In the years since, she has moved from Austin, Texas to Juneau, Alaska to Portland, Oregon; her work too has expanded across genres into more experimental formats of poetry, music, and multidisciplinary art. In returning to these earlier songs, Strom reclaims and revives them, exploring her relationships to time, voice, and the continuances of emotion and memory. The word redux means “brought back; revived”; a sense of something restored—earlier renditions of some of the Redux songs were recorded with Austin-based collaborators and producers; some songs were written in that time period but never recorded. Produced, performed, and recorded by Strom alone in her home studio, Redux is a return and reemergence of the artist to her own most personal, intuitive structures and atmospheres of voice, sound, and song. Released on cassette by Antiquated Future Records, and reissued on vinyl in 2026 by Disasters By Choice.

Dao Strom is an artist who works with three “voices”—written, sung, visual—to explore hybridity and contemplate the intersection of personal and collective histories. Her music releases move between “song-poem” cycles and ambient-folk albums. She is the author/composer of several hybrid projects that blend poetry, music, and visual art into unique multimodal experiences, including Tender Revolutions/Yellow Songs, a song-cycle with set of four chapbooks, jointly released by Beacon Sound, Antiquated Future Records, and The 3rd Thing Press (2025), and Instrument/Traveler’s Ode, a poetry-art collection and song-cycle released by Fonograf Editions and Antiquated Future Records (2020). Born in Vietnam and based in Portland, Oregon, Strom began her musical journey in the early 2000s, when she first began infusing into the context of “Americana” folk/roots music her own diasporic Vietnamese experience and stories. Her music has since moved in more experimental directions, resisting easy categorization, yet still maintaining tendrils of folk ethos. She also writes songs about the ineffable nuances of emotion, memory, and connection, as captured on the album, Redux, which gathers songs from across her songwriting years into an ambient-folk setting, self-produced and recorded by Strom, released on cassette in 2022 by Antiquated Future Records, and reissued on vinyl in 2026 by Disasters By Choice. As a multidisciplinary artist, Strom has presented performance and installations at venues such as the Time Based Art Festival (Portland Institute for Contemporary Art) and Moving Poets Novilla in Berlin, Germany, and has received awards from the Creative Capital Foundation, Spark Artist Award, and others. Strom is also a founding member of She Who Has No Master(s), a collective of Vietnamese women writers and artists making polyvocal poetry-art works as a means of reaching across borders.

On Dreams ’24 / ’25, Scottish composer Bill Wells turns his nocturnal imagination into a sequence of delicate musical miniatures. The album brings together 24 short pieces, most of them under two minutes, unfolding in just under half an hour like a quietly drifting dream diary.

The album is split into two parts. On the Dreams 2024 side, Norman Blake lends his voice to Wells’ dream-born melodies. Blake, best known as a founding member of Teenage Fanclub, recorded the songs with Wells in a single afternoon at his home, capturing their fragile immediacy in direct and unadorned performances.

For Dreams 2025, Aby Vulliamy — one of Yorkshire’s best kept musical secrets — takes over vocal duties. In mid 2025, Wells sent her a batch of demos; Vulliamy recorded them at home and sent them back to him. The result is a second chapter that feels more introspective, intimate and gently surreal.

The songs themselves are born directly from dreams. Wells wakes from the dream, records it on his mobile and later shapes it into a brief, lyrical composition. One piece, Mackenzie’s Return, was inspired by a dream in which Elvis Costello marched through the streets of a suburban town complaining that he had run out of song ideas, a detail that perfectly captures the album’s blend of humour, strangeness and quiet melancholy.

Dreams ’24 / ’25 is not a collection of fully formed pop songs, but rather a series of fleeting emotional snapshots: soft voices, simple motifs, and melodies that appear and vanish before they can fully settle. It is an album that rewards close listening, inviting the listener into a private, half-lit space somewhere between memory and imagination.

The album is accompanied by a striking cover artwork by Annabel Wright.

Originally released on Ezekiel Honig's Anticipate label in 2007, Standing on a Hummingbird is the debut album by Canadian sound artist Mark Templeton, now appearing for the first time on vinyl, newly remastered by Giuseppe Ielasi and cut by LUPO. Working at the intersection of post-glitch, electroacoustic ambient, and textural minimalism, Templeton composes through restraint and erosion, building patient and richly tactile pieces primarily from acoustic sources - fingerpicked guitar, plaintive banjo, muted accordion tones - subjected to careful processes of granulation, filtering, and environmental masking. These gestures never overwhelm the source material; instead, they wonderfully destabilize it. Melodies appear briefly, only to dissolve into dense atmospheres of field recordings: distant streets, birds, water, air. Sounds hover, vibrate, and vanish, much like the wing beating latent in the album’s title.

Tracks such as “Pattern For a Pillow” and “Amidst Things Uncontrolled” articulate this approach with particular clarity, setting languid acoustic figures against churning granular backdrops that feel at once sheltering and unstable. Elsewhere, moments of fragile clarity - fluttering guitar lines, reedy accordion tones - briefly break the surface before being absorbed back into the field.

Heard today, the record offers a clarion, almost spartan strain of textural ambient music: intricate yet unforced, shaped by human touch rather than automated excess. Its refusal of spectacle feels especially vital in a landscape saturated with maximalist digitalia - a reminder that electronic music’s most enduring gestures often occur where sound is allowed to tremble and hold itself just long enough to be felt before disappearing once again. (Alex Cobb, 2026)

Northern Electronics presents NE112, a collaborative work by Anthony Linell and Evigt Mörker, entitled ’Ett anständigt liv’.
Marking the first alignment between the two artists, the record unfolds as a study in continuity, pressure, and sustained focus. Across four pieces, a steady and tensile sonic language develops, immersive in its repetition and controlled in its ascent. Subtle psychedelic inflections — recalling early trance states — surface within a darker, more restrained framework. The result is neither nostalgic nor decorative, but reduced, deliberate, and directed forward.
All tracks written and produced by AL & KL in Sofia, Sweden, during the winter of 2024 Mixed and mastered by Giuseppe Tillieci at EnissLab, Rome

"Wired" ist ein harter Neustart für Basement. Es markiert das erste Album der britischen Band seit acht Jahren, eine Wiedervereinigung mit ihrem ursprünglichen Label Run For Cover Records und eine Rückkehr zu jener ungebändigten Leidenschaft und kreativen Intuition, die schon immer ihr bestes Material ausgezeichnet hat. Seit ihrer Gründung im Jahr 2009 besteht Basement aus denselben fünf Freunden - Sänger Andrew Fisher, den Gitarristen Alex Henery und Ronan Crix, Bassist Duncan Stewart und Schlagzeuger James Fisher - und derselben alchemischen Verbundenheit. Das Einzige, was sich in den letzten Jahren verändert hat, ist ihr erneuertes Gefühl von Zielstrebigkeit. Und das macht ihr neues Album deutlich hörbar. "Wired" ist das dynamischste, mutigste und inspirierteste Werk, das Basement je geschaffen haben, und bewahrt zugleich die zeitlosen Grundlagen ihres einzigartigen Sounds: grollende Gitarren, mitreißende Refrains und eindringliche emotionale Sprache. Basement sind zurück und laufen auf allen Zylindern, aber sie haben kein Interesse daran, alte Erfolge zu wiederholen. Die gesamte Band war entschlossen, dass "Wired" ihr bisher klarstes künstlerisches Statement werden musste. Der Titelsong ist das drängendste Stück ihrer Karriere - ein sicherer Live-Favorit, getragen von stechenden Gitarren, einem wuchtigen Schlagzeug und einem himmelhohen Hook, bei dem Fishers Stimme in Bestform ist. "Broken By Design" zeigt den gegenteiligen Charakter: düster, zart, bassgeführt, aber dennoch typisch Basement in seiner sofortigen Eingängigkeit und stimmungsvollen Atmosphäre. Nichts auf Wired klingt stagnierend, kein Teil wirkt unausgereift. Die Band ließ sich von einer Vielzahl abenteuerlustiger Vorbilder inspirieren (R.E.M., Interpol, Smashing Pumpkins, um nur einige zu nennen), ohne jemals wie eine dieser Bands zu klingen - und auch nicht wie eine Kopie ihrer selbst. Der Albumtitel fasst all das in einem einzigen Wort zusammen. Die texturalen Konnotationen von "Wired" - metallisch, scharf, zackig - spiegeln die stählernen Klangwelten des Albums wider. Auf konzeptioneller Ebene spricht der Titel für die unerschütterliche Zähigkeit der Band: eine analoge Band, die in einer immer digitaleren Welt erfolgreich bleibt, ohne sich auf nostalgische Bequemlichkeit zu verlassen. Fünf Freunde, die mehrere Trennungen und Neuanfänge überstanden haben und dabei als Menschen und musikalische Einheit gewachsen sind. Basement müssen ihr Schicksal akzeptieren: Sie sind einfach dafür gemacht.

"Wired" ist ein harter Neustart für Basement. Es markiert das erste Album der britischen Band seit acht Jahren, eine Wiedervereinigung mit ihrem ursprünglichen Label Run For Cover Records und eine Rückkehr zu jener ungebändigten Leidenschaft und kreativen Intuition, die schon immer ihr bestes Material ausgezeichnet hat. Seit ihrer Gründung im Jahr 2009 besteht Basement aus denselben fünf Freunden - Sänger Andrew Fisher, den Gitarristen Alex Henery und Ronan Crix, Bassist Duncan Stewart und Schlagzeuger James Fisher - und derselben alchemischen Verbundenheit. Das Einzige, was sich in den letzten Jahren verändert hat, ist ihr erneuertes Gefühl von Zielstrebigkeit. Und das macht ihr neues Album deutlich hörbar. "Wired" ist das dynamischste, mutigste und inspirierteste Werk, das Basement je geschaffen haben, und bewahrt zugleich die zeitlosen Grundlagen ihres einzigartigen Sounds: grollende Gitarren, mitreißende Refrains und eindringliche emotionale Sprache. Basement sind zurück und laufen auf allen Zylindern, aber sie haben kein Interesse daran, alte Erfolge zu wiederholen. Die gesamte Band war entschlossen, dass "Wired" ihr bisher klarstes künstlerisches Statement werden musste. Der Titelsong ist das drängendste Stück ihrer Karriere - ein sicherer Live-Favorit, getragen von stechenden Gitarren, einem wuchtigen Schlagzeug und einem himmelhohen Hook, bei dem Fishers Stimme in Bestform ist. "Broken By Design" zeigt den gegenteiligen Charakter: düster, zart, bassgeführt, aber dennoch typisch Basement in seiner sofortigen Eingängigkeit und stimmungsvollen Atmosphäre. Nichts auf Wired klingt stagnierend, kein Teil wirkt unausgereift. Die Band ließ sich von einer Vielzahl abenteuerlustiger Vorbilder inspirieren (R.E.M., Interpol, Smashing Pumpkins, um nur einige zu nennen), ohne jemals wie eine dieser Bands zu klingen - und auch nicht wie eine Kopie ihrer selbst. Der Albumtitel fasst all das in einem einzigen Wort zusammen. Die texturalen Konnotationen von "Wired" - metallisch, scharf, zackig - spiegeln die stählernen Klangwelten des Albums wider. Auf konzeptioneller Ebene spricht der Titel für die unerschütterliche Zähigkeit der Band: eine analoge Band, die in einer immer digitaleren Welt erfolgreich bleibt, ohne sich auf nostalgische Bequemlichkeit zu verlassen. Fünf Freunde, die mehrere Trennungen und Neuanfänge überstanden haben und dabei als Menschen und musikalische Einheit gewachsen sind. Basement müssen ihr Schicksal akzeptieren: Sie sind einfach dafür gemacht.

Trajectories collide in a wormhole as Tokyo-based Igaxx and Amsterdam-based Gropina converge on a crepuscular four-track 12-inch and digital release for Paesaggi Records. Igaxx drifts through near-beatless, spiralling psychedelia: “The Perception” is a slow-burn ascent, suspended in a state of perpetual anticipation, forever circling a climax that never arrives. “Someday in Time” settles into a steady pulse that glides outward, dissolving into the distance as if lost in quiet contemplation.

On the flip, Gropina reshapes the two pieces through his own sonic lens, like stepping through the looking glass. “The Perception (Version)” brings a supernatural, Kraut-inspired vibe, opening with a deceptive 2:35 intro before unfolding into Mother Sky-esque drums, primitive flutes, and reversed guitars. “Some Day In Time (Version)” is a dubby reinterpretation driven by a ’70s Ace Tone drum machine, a funky bassline, dub-soaked guitars, noir alto saxophone, and subtle details swirling through the mix.

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.”

In 2006, "Undiscovered" introduced the UK to one of its most distinctive new voices. Powered by the breakout single "You Give Me Something", the album debuted at No.1 in the UK Albums Chart, and went on to become 5x Platinum in the UK, and achieved Platinum and Gold certifications across Europe, Australia and beyond. Blending soul, acoustic pop and classic British songwriting, "Undiscovered" delivered a string of enduring tracks including "Wonderful World" and "The Pieces Don"t Fit Anymore", establishing James Morrison from the outset and laying the foundation for a successful international career. To celebrate its 20th anniversary, the album returns in new formats for collectors. The vinyl has been cut by John Webber at AIR Studios to showcase the warmth and depth of the original recordings, and a deluxe CD edition features 4 bonus tracks, available exclusively on CD. A landmark British debut of the 2000s, "Undiscovered" remains a defining release of its era.

With multiple bass players (at one point eight of them) and an array of rubber masks that give both children and adults sleepless nights, somehow, against all the odds, Evil Blizzard are set to release their fifth studio album of nightmare inducing noise and visuals. Titled, the new album sees Evil Blizzard pushing the boundaries further afield from their early sound of 'multiple bass psych', seeing elements of dub, krautrock and goth to provide a much more Post Punk vibe than previous work. Reference points were 'Metal Box', 'Ritual De Lo Habitual', Can and Discharge (whose singer JJ joins the band on the track 'Wake The Dead In Bedlam') as well as the omnipresent Hawkwind, Stooges and Sabbath vibes. By far the band's most stylistically varied and challenging album and yet their most cohesive body of work since their critically acclaimed second album 'Everybody Come To Church'. As well as their trademark 'multi bass onslaught', this album sees sequencing, sampling and even the use of string instruments made from bone.

Recorded between September and November 2025 at Rock Hard Studios, Blackpool, improvised sessions were edited down into more 'song' structures, then reworked into the final pieces. "Recording this was the hardest work we've done," claims Filthydirty. "Previously, we'd just turn up, turn up louder, press record and sieve through the debris and call it 'an album'. On this album we only had two, maybe three tracks that were finished when we went in, and the rest were worked out in reverse; ploughing through improvisations and jams and seeing what actually had any bones or gristle to work with. “Consequently, we had the time and focus to reappraise what we'd done in the past, highlight what we'd done right and realise where perhaps self-indulgence or lack of focus were overlooked instead of time or budget restraints, he continues. “The result is an album that reflects all our record collections. Lyrically it's been impossible to not absorb the chaos and anger transmitting on every news channel recently, and while we'd never write specifically about a certain issue or matter, the shitshow that is the 2020's definitely made its mark or our thinking.

With Diving Inward, the first release under the alias Dziad, Aleksander Filipiak melds the frigid indifference of synthesised textures with exploratory re-imaginations of his first instrument as an industrial buzz saw of unpredictable metallic fluctuations. The sonic landscape is a tribute to a multiplicity of (once) cutting edge, experimental techniques from the golden age of electroacoustic composition, combined with the composer’s enduring love for organic and unpredictable textures, transportive folk motifs and hypnotic pads.

Recorded in the winter 2022, this amalgam of the tangible and imaginary, shudders and re-lives a sombre season of isolation and loneliness. The pieces stand as an ode to the optimistic acts of play and creativity; an antidote to a reality which, at times, feels tolerable at its best. With this release, Filipiak encapsulates emotions that are overdue to be left behind. Shelve them for another day.

VERY LIMITED BLACK VINYL WITH DOUBLE-SIDED INSERT (NON-RETURNABLE)

California composer Phil Geraldi’s vinyl debut both refines and refracts his signature muse of interstitial Americana across 11
melted glass mosaics of processed guitar, decayed radio glow, and Harmonia synth horizons: Rural Deceased Undiscovered. He
describes his vision for the pieces as “multilinear,” rearranging classic radio songbook elements like hooks, choruses, and
emotional cues into unfamiliar topographies of “alien country.”

Shards of acoustic guitar and pedal steel flicker in long shadows of amplifier hum and airwave static, like the scrambled
broadcast of some heartland station along a desert highway. It’s music both rustic and placeless, warped by weather and
technology, shimmering like northern lights over the badlands.

Call it soulful dream pop, proto-trip hop or downtempo jazz - "Tender Rain" is the follow-up LP to the successful "This Is" album and continues to deliver Ghia's unmistakable sonic magic. On this release, the band shares a selection of previously unreleased vocal songs alongside instrumental pieces, all carried by their trademark chilled and almost meditative atmosphere. Most of the recordings date from the early 1990s, while early demo versions of "New Love" and "Teardrops in Your Eyes" may reach back as far as the late 1980s.

The album opens with the title track "Tender Rain," where smooth vocal jazz harmonies merge effortlessly with soulful pop elements. The track originally appeared only on CD in 1993 on the small Mikado label run by renowned German guitarist Ulli Bögershausen. The band recalls that the piece was first pre-recorded using MIDI equipment and a Tascam 16-track recorder before being completed in the studio with drums by legendary drummer Mickie Stickdorn (Carsten Bohn's Bandstand, Cyklus, Elephant, Lake), percussion by Corinna Ludzuweit, and the final touch-Lisa Ohm's remarkable vocals.

At the time, Mikado was also looking for instrumental material for radio and synchronization use. They selected the track "Tropfstein" for a sampler CD and requested more pieces. In response, "und recken ihre schlanken Glieder" (roughly translated as "and stretching their slender limbs") was composed especially for the project, as Frank Simon remembers. Both tracks appeared on the now rare Mikado sampler CD under the alias z. Zt., short for "zur Zeit" ("at present" or "these days").

Several further pieces in a similar vein were created during this period, including the previously unissued "Auf unserm grünen Sofa," "Reise bei Nacht," and "Was ich Dir noch sagen wollte." These tracks are beautifully crafted downtempo pieces featuring smooth, jazzy piano lines combined with touches of ambient and New Age aesthetics. "Auf unserm grünen Sofa" stands out in particular and will likely resonate with all downtempo enthusiasts. Lutz Boberg recalls that many of these recordings were captured during a single afternoon in the studio, fueled by spontaneous ideas and creative momentum.

On tracks such as "Teardrops in Your Eyes," "New Love," and the haunting Dark Spirits Mix of Ghia's song "What's Your Voodoo?", singer Lisa Ohm delivers soulful pop performances with her clear and captivating voice. "Change Your Sex," the third track previously featured on the Mikado sampler, leans more toward late-1980s funk and was aimed at radio and DJs at the time. Its subject matter was relatively daring for the period, telling the story of someone contemplating a change of sex "to get rid of the troubles."

Together with "This Is" and "Curacao Blue", "Tender Rain" forms another essential chapter in the rediscovery of the band's work. More than thirty years after their creation, these recordings still sound strikingly fresh, reflecting a unique style that in many ways anticipated the rise of trip-hop in the early to mid-1990s.

LA-based producer Real Bad Man and Detroit rapper Boldy James return with their third collaborative album, Conversational Pieces, out now via Real Bad Man Records. The project features the singles “Come Back Around” featuring DC polymath dreamcastmoe, and “It Factor” featuring El-P. Their creative chemistry has never been clearer: this new album sees the duo pushing into fresh sonic territory through an expanded production palette that Real Bad Man continues to evolve and experiment with.

Recorded immediately after their 2022 album Killing Nothing and revisited in 2023 following Boldy’s serious car accident, Conversational Pieces is a deliberate, reflective body of work. It captures two distinct periods in the artists’ lives—documenting their growth as musicians, fathers, and long-time collaborators. The album’s artwork, along with the accompanying single art, draws inspiration from Rorschach inkblot tests—abstract visuals that invite interpretation and spark conversation, mirroring the album’s introspective nature.

Twenty Years Ago, Jan Jelinek's Debut Album Personal Rockwas Released By Source Records. Under The Pseudonym Gramm, It Brings Togethereight Tracks That Have Not Been Available On Vinyl Since Their Original Release.faitiche Is Very Glad To Announce The Re-release Of The Album: Personal Rockwill Appear As A Double Lp Featuring The Original Cover Artwork. What People Wrote About Personal Rock Two Decades Ago: "situated Somewhere Between Jelinek's Much Loved Loop-findingjazz Records, Farben, Move D's Conjoint Project And Atom Heart's Most Immersivework For Rather Interesting, It's A Late Night Album Full Of Subtle Productiontricks And Melodic House Structures That Belong To The Pre-millennial Idmheyday, But Which Transcend Its Overly-masculine Templates." (boomkat) "a Serene Little Masterpiece" (de:bug) "though Many Producers Have Pushed Forward Theclicks-and-cuts Style Of Experimental Ambience Developed By Germanexperimentalists Oval (among Others), Few Have Been Able To Matchtheir Knack For Making Abstract Cuts Into Pieces Of Undeniable Beauty. Janjelinek's First Lp As Gramm Is One Of The Precious Few, And It'sobvious From The Opener." (allmusic) "organized In Organic Structures And Minimal Movements, Thetracks Get Into Utopian States And Super-desirable Moods, Offering Superiorcontentedness And Dependable Taste Of The Kind Seldom Sustained For A Wholealbum. (...) Subway-escalator-soul." (spex)

Deaf Center travel through quiet pathways and grand boulevards in their fourth studio album “Through Time”.

Since their last full-length LP, “Low Distance” (2019), the duo has gradually shifted towards a more long-form electroacoustic sound which perhaps makes for their most immersive listening experience so far. Otto A Totland’s piano travels in less frequent rhythms than before, yet is felt even more as a relief in the quieter moments that contrast with Erik K Skodvin’s deep atmospheric worlds. There’s a searching quality within the record which feels like slow movements on the way towards something meaningful, capturing a sense of both peace and awe.

The latter part of the album takes a different turn: fluctuating electronic rhythms over deep strings create an ecstatic yet haunting duality. It is the first time a guest musician appears on a Deaf Center record: British composer and musician Simon Goff joins with violin and viola in the finale, “Further”, a hypnotising piece submerged in layers of strings and drones.

The subject of time is an ambitious one, yet Deaf Center manage to balance the humble with the grand in great warmth as seconds become minutes, hours become days and time seemingly freezes as a still-life moment.

Schatterau’s third album, »Wir gingen durch leere Stunden« (We went through empty hours), sees the German duo blossoms with beauty and sophistication through a broad creative language.

This opus, presented in the form of vivid auditory tableaux vivants, explores the topography of memory as a landscape in constant motion – full of loops, feedbacks, and mirage-like distortions. Sounds climbing like vines over old walls, concealing details only to reveal new ones. Some pieces feel like fragments of a dream whose origin has vanished, others like displaced echoes of a day long gone.

Memories create paths that only become visible in retrospect – detours that somehow always lead back to oneself. Each track draws the listener into a different recollection, as if opening an old door. Inside, time behaves strangely: it jumps, stretches, and repeats.

»Wir gingen durch leere Stunden« ultimately presents Schatterau at their most experimental, complex and measured extremes, channelling ambiguous human emotional resonance ranging from melancholy to pure ecstasy.

Rave At Your Fictional Borders is not beyond borders. The band simply denies any notion thereof. Driven by a sense of community, it defines human existence as one bio-organism with planet Earth. Now comprising members Dave De Rose, Marius Mathiszik, and Salim Akki, this incarnation of Rave At Your Fictional Borders first released the 'Entanglement' and 'Utopia' tracks in March 2025. Analogue Nomadism is the project's first album release. Recorded in Morocco and then co-produced and mixed by Dan Nicholls, it is an album of dizzying, trance-inducing scope. Rave music stripped of all external signifiers. Repetition, noise, krautrock, avant-garde sensibilities. This is a search for a groove that both connects and interlocks. The soul of improvisation and exploration runs through all seven pieces on Analogue Nomadism. Genres are referenced and transcended. The open-ended is perpetually embraced.

It is neither night nor day, but there is a half-light all the time. What used to be disconcerting is now not alien anymore. The sky boasts a faint light. Certain shapes are laid out, but get changed through communal ritual. Analogue Nomadism is the music of a feeling of community. It builds and breaks down. It is accepting of the psychedelic standards of the groove. Transportative and vertiginous. Endless.

Brisk is the debut album by Polish-Hungarian flutist Juli Deák (*2000), based in Budapest. Comprised of seven solo flute pieces, the album offers a concentrated snapshot of Deák’s musical world—one shaped by classical training, experimentation, improvisation, and folk influences.

The project began taking shape in 2021, as Deák moved away from the polished ideals of classical performance toward a more personal and exploratory approach. Early fragments only revealed their meaning in front of an audience, whose responses encouraged her to continue developing the material. With over 15 years of musical experience, Deák combines technical precision with a willingness to embrace vulnerability and chance.

Breathing lies at the heart of Brisk. More than a functional necessity, it becomes an expressive and structural force. Through close listening, breath feels tactile and intimate, placing the performer almost within reach. Techniques such as circular breathing, overblowing, harmonics, singing while playing, and wind tones allow the flute to unfold into multiple voices, while percussive key clicks provide a steady rhythmic pulse.

Deák foregrounds sounds often excluded from classical music—breathy tones, unstable pitches, squeaks, and audible inhalations—treating them as essential expressive tools. This focus reflects her long-term exploration of the flute’s physical and expressive limits and connects directly to her ongoing solo practice, The Breathing Project, of which Brisk is a distilled release.

Active across classical, contemporary, jazz, and experimental scenes, Deák has collaborated with ensembles including Konstmusik-systrar and the VENI ensemble, and performed at festivals such as Norbergfestival and Ung Nordisk Musik.

Across its seven pieces, Brisk balances immediacy and rigor, inviting focused listening while remaining open and bodily. It documents a musician in motion, attentive to sound as sensation, gesture, and breath, and committed to honesty

Death Is Not The End collaborate with Uzbek label Maqom Soul to deliver an LP counterpart to last year's mixtape of the same title, compiling specially picked & fully licensed individual belters from the ex-soviet studios of Central Asian republics between 1978 and 1989 - incl. Uzbek, Tajik, Kurdish & Uyghur artists pulling traditional folk motifs together with pop & rock and psych elements.

"These recordings do not form a smooth or coherent history. They feel more like a sequence of discoveries made at different moments and in different circumstances. Songs and instrumental pieces that once lived inside specific contexts radio broadcasts, philharmonic programs, touring routes now sit side by side, revealing hidden connections as well as clear fractures between them.

Nasiba Abdullaeva appears here as a voice from the end of an era. Trained within a conservatory system, she worked inside the format of the Soviet pop song while filling it with melodic logic that did not come from Moscow or Leningrad. Her voice is soft and sustained, shaped by Eastern melisma, and it never functions as decoration. Even in tightly structured songs there is a sense of resistance, an effort to preserve a musical language rooted in Uzbek tradition rather than fully adapted to an all Union standard.

The ensemble Sintez, later renamed Navo, represents a different path. Beginning as a student rock group, the band was gradually absorbed into the official VIA system with all its limitations and compromises. Yet it was precisely within those boundaries that Sintez and Navo developed a recognizable sound. Electric guitars and jazz rock harmonies do not overpower the folk material but remain in tension with it. Their recordings feel like negotiations between what the musicians wanted to play and what they were allowed to perform.

The Tajik ensemble Gulshan reflects an institutional approach carried to a high professional level. Formed under television and radio structures, the group treated folk material almost as a written score. Carefully constructed arrangements, close attention to orchestration, and restrained use of pop techniques define their sound. There is less spontaneity here, but a strong sense of discipline and structure, where national melody becomes part of a carefully controlled sonic framework.

Koma Wetan occupies a very different space. Formed in the 1970s, this Kurdish rock group approached poetry and folklore as tools of cultural assertion. Their psychedelic rock never feels like a stylistic borrowing. Instead it functions as a contemporary vessel for language and themes that might otherwise have remained unheard. Even today these recordings sound fragile and stubborn at the same time.

The Uyghur ensemble Yashlik, closely connected to a musical drama theatre, operated somewhere between stage performance and popular music. Their songs are built on folk melodies but shaped for wide audiences. What emerges is a constant attempt to preserve the recognizability of Uyghur musical identity without freezing it in a folkloric frame. Yashlik's music exists in a state of balance between representation and development.

Digging Central Asia does not attempt to establish hierarchies or offer a single wayof listening. Names and dates matter less than the sound itself. Tape noise, abrupt transitions, and unexpected timbres remain part of the material rather than flaws to be corrected. This music existed at the crossroads of multiple routes geographic, cultural, and ideological. Heard today in a new context, it no longer feels peripheral. Instead it stands as a reminder that the history of popular music is far more fragmented, layered, and polyphonic than it is usually allowed to be."

On "Enduring Sonance," saxophonist and flutist Steve Wilson reflects on a lifetime of lyrical, deeply felt songs drawn from jazz, pop, and film—brought to life by an all-star ensemble featuring Renee Rosnes, Joe Locke, Jay Anderson, and Kendrick Scott. *** Certain songs have a way of lingering in the imagination—resonating long after we’ve last heard them, sometimes for a lifetime. On his breathtaking new album "Enduring Sonance," veteran saxophonist and flutist Steve Wilson celebrates the music that has left the deepest imprint on his musical life. “Some of the tunes on this record have stayed with me for, in some cases, over 50 years from the time that I first heard them,” Wilson says. “I wanted to put some music out there that people can connect with, no matter what kind of music they like.” Originally conceived as a ballads project, Enduring Sonance evolved into something broader and more personal. Rather than focusing on tempo or style, Wilson gravitated toward a sense of lyricism—music whose emotional clarity and melodic resonance endure across genres, decades, and listening habits.

To realize this vision, Wilson assembled a deeply intuitive ensemble featuring pianist and arranger Renee Rosnes, vibraphonist Joe Locke, bassist Jay Anderson, and drummer Kendrick Scott, with special guest Kevin Newton (French horn, Imani Winds) appearing on two tracks. Each musician brings a rare sensitivity to melody, texture, and space, allowing the material to unfold with warmth, restraint, and quiet authority. The repertoire draws from a wide musical landscape, including works by close collaborators and modern jazz masters Billy Childs and George Cables, alongside enduring songs by Michel Legrand, Quincy Jones, Milton Nascimento, Gino Vannelli, Bill Lee, and Eliane Elias. These are not standards in the traditional sense, but deeply personal selections—songs that have accompanied Wilson through different chapters of his life. The album opens with Childs’ “Quiet Girl,” its subtle rhythmic motion enhanced by Newton’s luminous French horn, and travels through cinematic ballads, soulful grooves, and reflective lyricism. The title Enduring Sonance speaks both to the lasting resonance of these songs and to Wilson’s enduring musical relationships—most notably with Rosnes, whom he has known for nearly four decades and whose sensitive arrangements help unify the album’s diverse repertoire. “These songs are the soundtrack of my life,” Wilson says. “I’d love it if listeners came away from this album with the same kind of enduring sound and feeling.”

Buster Williams is a man with a strong sense of purpose and a very clear sense of his musical direction. He is also a musician of prodigious gifts - which is implicit in the fact that his years of professional bass playing have included work with Miles Davis, Dexter Gordon, Sonny Rollins, Art Blakey, Sarah Vaughan, Nancy Wilson, Betty Carter, Freddie Hubbard, Herbie Hancock, Chet Baker, Woody Shaw and McCoy Tyner. He is unquestionably one of the giants of the double bass, and his status is a product not only of his natural aptitude, but also of his natural attitude - because Buster Williams is a man who believes in setting himself the highest creative goals. Williams composed five of the seven pieces and wrote all the arrangements. To bring the music to life he had the services of some most distinguished associates. It would be redundant to recite the credentials of Herbie Hancock , Wayne Shorter and Al Foster. This is a most refreshing and exhilarating album to which Buster Williams has brought a high level of creativity and total integrity.

The North Carolina trio Setting brings together their substantial collective skills as musicians and their collaborative mindset to bear in their inventive and rich improvisations. Known for work in Mind Over Mirrors, Califone, Black Twig Pickers, Pelt, Peeesseye, Sylvan Esso, and Jake Xerxes Fussell, multi- instrumentalists Jaime Fennelly, Nathan Bowles and Joe Westerlund subvert expectations while creating a sense of wonderment. Their intricate interplay of synthesizers, cassette loops, banjo, keyboards, electronics, zithers, and a litany of percussive instruments form a tactile amalgam of celestial transcendence and terrestrial rhythm, a loamy pulse fluidly guiding every minute fluctuation in feel. Setting"s self-titled album is a definitive statement of their improvisational acumen meeting compositional rigor, a robust wellspring of hypnagogic grooves and mosaiced textures. The eponymous album from Setting is the product of three intuitive players and deep listeners, artists who use those skills to create transformative music. The trio shirk any broader categorizations, as their unique dynamic pieces are alight with arrangements urgent and smoldering, patient and emotive.

The North Carolina trio Setting brings together their substantial collective skills as musicians and their collaborative mindset to bear in their inventive and rich improvisations. Known for work in Mind Over Mirrors, Califone, Black Twig Pickers, Pelt, Peeesseye, Sylvan Esso, and Jake Xerxes Fussell, multi- instrumentalists Jaime Fennelly, Nathan Bowles and Joe Westerlund subvert expectations while creating a sense of wonderment. Their intricate interplay of synthesizers, cassette loops, banjo, keyboards, electronics, zithers, and a litany of percussive instruments form a tactile amalgam of celestial transcendence and terrestrial rhythm, a loamy pulse fluidly guiding every minute fluctuation in feel. Setting"s self-titled album is a definitive statement of their improvisational acumen meeting compositional rigor, a robust wellspring of hypnagogic grooves and mosaiced textures. The eponymous album from Setting is the product of three intuitive players and deep listeners, artists who use those skills to create transformative music. The trio shirk any broader categorizations, as their unique dynamic pieces are alight with arrangements urgent and smoldering, patient and emotive.

Gute Neuigkeiten für Good Riddance-Fans! Nach sehr limitierter Verfügbarkeit der Erstauflage (schwarzes Vinyl) gibt es noch eine Nachpressung. Die zweitauflage kommt als Apple Red Vinyl. Die aus Santa Cruz, Kalifornien, stammende Band ist eine feste Größe in der Punkszene und bekannt dafür, die Lücke zwischen rasantem Skate-Punk und der rohen Intensität des Hardcore zu schließen. Sie werden für ihre ,intellektuelle Aggression" gefeiert, einen einzigartigen Sound, der rasante Drum-Geschwindigkeiten und scharfe Gitarrenriffs mit überraschend eingängigen Melodien verbindet. Für neue Hörer repräsentiert die Band den Goldstandard des Genres und beweist, dass Punk unglaublich schnell und aggressiv sein kann, während er gleichzeitig musikalisch ausgefeilt und technisch präzise bleibt. Über ihre klangliche Strahlkraft hinaus dient die Band als wichtige Einführung in die aktivistischen Wurzeln des Punkrocks. Unter der Leitung von Sänger Russ Rankin tauchen ihre Texte tief in Themen wie soziale Gerechtigkeit, Tierrechte und politische Kritik ein und bieten eine viel tiefgründigere Perspektive als typischer Alternative Rock. Durch die Auseinandersetzung mit klassischen Alben wie "A Comprehensive Guide to Moderne Rebellion" können Fans genau hören, wie Punk als kraftvolle Stimme für Marginalisierte und als engagierte Plattform für die Infragestellung des Status quo dient. Die Relevanz der Band ist nach wie vor ungebrochen, seit 2015 ungebrochen zurück, das letzte Album kam 2019, 2024 veröffentlichten sie "No More System to Believe In", eine melodische Punk-Hymne, die moderne Desillusionierung in einen kraftvollen Aufruf zum Handeln kanalisiert. Nach einem strapaziösen Tourplan für 2025, bei dem sie neben ausverkauften Clubkonzerten in Europa und Nordamerika auch auf großen Festivals wie dem Hellfest und der Warped Tour Orlando auftraten, zeigen sie keine Anzeichen einer Verlangsamung. Im Jahr 2026 wird Good Riddance diese globale Dynamik mit umfangreichen Auftritten auf Festivals in der EU und insbesondere in Deutschland fortsetzen. Aufgenommen mit Bill Stevenson (Descendents) im The Blasting Room.

Faitiche welcomes a new artist: Christina Kubisch belongs to the first generation of sound artists. Her practice ranges from performances, concerts, to works with video and visual art, but she is best known for her sound installations and electro-acoustic compositions.

TUNING brings together three pieces by Christina Kubisch from different periods of her oeuvre. What they have in common is the way they transform sound phenomena originally considered “non-music” into compositions.

Jan Jelinek: Gaming in Silence (2024) is the most recent work on this compilation. It’s a collage of electromagnetic waves, voice, and abstract sound textures. How did this combination come about?

Christina Kubisch: Gaming was commissioned as a fixed-media composition for the Sound Dome at ZKM Karlsruhe. Since Resonances: The Electromagnetic Bodies Project (2005), I’ve been making recordings in the old and new server rooms at the ZKM and in their permanent collection of historical computer games. Computer games like Asteroids (Atari, 1979) and Poly-Play (VEB Polytechnik, 1986) have specially generated analogue electromagnetic waves that interest me in particular on account of their density, rhythms and textures. I originally studied painting and to me the work of composition often feels like painting an abstract picture. I alter my source material as little as possible, layering and overlapping until a distinctive sound space emerges. In recent pieces, I sometimes combine magnetic waves with field recordings or live instruments. In Gaming it’s my recording of a Chinese song about silence.

JJ: Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004) is a recording from your Electrical Walks series. Here we should give a brief explanation of one of your best known works: participants in an Electrical Walk move through public spaces wearing prepared headphones that allow them to receive electromagnetic waves from their surroundings – for example from security gates, ATMs or neon signs. They discover a situation that normally is inaudible to the human ear and they can actively shape it by choreographing their movements. I really admire this piece, not least because there’s no clear dividing line between participants and artist. What exactly do we hear in Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004)?

CK: With this early work, I wanted to understand what is heard by people participating in an Electrical Walk in the same place but moving in different ways. The Spanish composer Miguel Alvarez-Fernàndez and I set off from opposite ends of a major shopping street in Madrid, met briefly in the middle, and then continued to the end. We both recorded our walks and I then layered them over one another. You might call it a work of electromagnetic conceptualism.

JJ: Diapason (2009 version) is an installation that plays a composition based on sounds from fifteen tuning forks. This setting is audible in the recording: there’s no dramatic arc, no beginning or end – instead, it recalls a piece of aleatoric music focussing on the decay phase. How did you come to make this work and could you tell us something about your compositional method?

CK: Diapason is part of a series of three pieces that deal with “non-instruments” or instruments that no longer exist: electrical mine bells used to send signals to the workers underground; a historical glass harmonica originally used for medicinal purposes; and tuning forks that were used by doctors to test people’s hearing. All of these methods are no longer in use. The sound of the tuning forks, audible only if held close to the ear, was recorded at the electronic studio at Berlin’s Technical University in such a way that even their decay remained audible. The frequencies range between 64 and 2048 Hertz and they can be adjusted at micro-intervals using small movable weights. The sequence and the duration of the pauses are dictated by chance and were not defined in advance. The 2009 version was created for an installation in the historic Holy Cross Church (Korskirken) in Bergen. Visitors could enter and leave the space at any time, deciding for themselves where and for how long they wished to listen to the sounds played back over an array of small loudspeakers placed on the floor of the apse.

Credits:

Gaming in Silence: commission of the ZKM/Hertzlab, Karlsruhe 2023
elektronic sound processing: Tom Thiel
sound engineering and mixing: Eckehard Güther

Diapason: produced at Elektronisches Studio of TU Berlin
rearrangement: Eckehard Güther

Christina Kubisch, published by Edition Christina Kubisch / Random Musick Publishing

image front: Transitionen 2021 by C. Kubisch, sonagrams of electronic waves (courtesy: Galerie Mazzoli Berlin)
image back: Diapason Tuning Fork, property of Folkmar Hein, Photo: Archiv Christina Kubisch

design by Tim Tetzner
mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi
Thanks to Miguel Álvarez-Fernández, Folkmar Hein, Dominik Kautz and Mario Mazzoli

»Vents d’aether« is the first collaborative album by sound artist Jérôme Bouve and composer-performer Delphine Dora. The six pieces are based on live improvisations on organ and harmonium. They were recorded in different churches on the Cotentin peninsula in France’s Normandy region and later enriched with additional field recordings by SA~RA. This adds an extra layer to compositions which were created both in and out of the moment and which quite literally resonate with the histories of the instruments and the buildings that were so integral to their emergence. »Vents d’aether« is to be understood as a dialogue between sound and space that takes place across time and place.

Bouve carried the idea of working with the organs and harmoniums that can be found in the churches and chapels in the Val de Saire in the Northeast of Cotentin around with him for years. When he got to know Dora, he found the perfect musical partner with whom to finally make a record »about the wind, the wood, the stones of the Val de Saire.« In September 2024, the duo embarked on a short but fruitful journey during which they stopped by at several different churches. They recorded hours-long improvised sessions dedicated to »capturing the moment, letting space and time shape gestures and sound, seizing fleeting epiphanies in their greatest simplicity,« as Dora notes in the album’s linernotes.

She took the lead behind the instruments, however Bouve assisted her on drawbars for the last two pieces on »Vents d’aether,« thus adding an even more unusual touch to the recordings. They formed the basis for an album that Dora calls »the testimony of a sensory quest, a collection of memories suspended in time.« Indeed, starting with the epic 20-minute-long titular piece up until the ringing of church bells near the end of the closing piece »Montfarville V,« this overwhelming yet intimate record blurs the boundaries between different times and spaces altogether.

A new duo and record label based in Madrid lands on the underground techno scene, led by Mike Gómez and José Castillo, the latter known for his aliases Milford and UHF, and also the owner of the electro label Gladio Operations.

Diorama is born with the intention of recovering the soul and essence lost in electronic music, which for some time has become practically homogeneous and predictable. With a timeless, fresh, and warm sound, Diorama produce rhythms close to dub and Detroit techno, mainly influenced by Juan Atkins, UR, and Basic Channel, among others.

This EP, titled Pacific Trak, begins with a nod to the old Scottish school, where they revive a forgotten track by British producer Anthony Scott, adding its imposing main chord to a true sea of melodic textures, bathed in exquisite acid. Spanish techno master Tadeo gives us his vision of Pacific Trak, exploring dub territories that remind us of past pieces released under the incomparable Maurizio label.

The B-side opens with Soul Memories, a manifesto of resistance that vibrates with detuned harmonies and raw bass lines, recalling the origins of Detroit’s primitive sound. The package closes with Polymorphic, a progression of relentless aquatic chords, set among careful and precise minimalist rhythms that oscillate between high-dynamics tech and dub.

»Music for Shared Rooms« is B. Fleischmann’s eleventh solo album and his first since 2018. It is also not an album, or at least not in the conventional sense of the word. These 16 instrumental pieces provide a kaleidoscopic glimpse of a forward-thinking musician at home in many different musical worlds, including experimental and abstract music, pop and more classically-minded compositional forms. These pieces were culled from an archive of roughly 600 compositions for theatre pieces and films written throughout the past twelve years. The Österreichischer Filmpreis-awarded composer, however, aimed for more than simply documenting his extensive work in and with different media. To do so, he edited and re-mixed the individual recordings for this release, taking them out of their contexts and reworking them for an audience who can experience them in a different setting. »Music for Shared Rooms« makes it possible for its listeners to engage with the sounds and to fill the spaces they open up with their own imagination.

Roughly speaking, music for theatre or film can serve two functions: it either takes the lead, or underscores what is happening on stage or screen. The marvelous thing about these pieces is that they manage to do both. Fleischmann’s work as a prolific producer has always drawn on contrasts, at times combining pop sentiment with rigid experimentation, the seemingly naive with the intricate and complex. This approach also marks the tracks collected here: bringing together acoustic elements and electronic sounds, at times working with conventional structures but always de- and re-contextualising them, Fleischmann constructs a vivid dramaturgy out of discrete singular compositions, letting them interact across the record.

Take, for example, the opener »Träumerei« and the following »Brenne«: after the soothing acoustic sounds of the former, the latter quickly picks up speed with hard-hitting drum machine rhythms. It’s a stark contrast sonically and stylistically, however both tracks are tied together by a certain harmonic sensibility. This sort of dramaturgical interconnectedness of varied musical materials is the thread that runs through »Music for Shared Rooms«. A droney piece for string instruments like »Sehnsucht« is followed by a trip-hop beat, before »Schock« lives up to its title with skittering beats and piercing high frequencies. The differences between the pieces may be striking, but the progression from one to the other is subtle. It goes on like this through different moods and tempos. There’s soothing-yet-eerie piano pieces like the »Für Elise«-inspired »Der Lärmkrieg«, gentle house grooves, joyful synthesizer excursions and, finally, »Die Erde ist mir fremd geworden«, a collage of abstract textures and concrete sounds.

All these pieces create distinct situations through the juxtaposition of diverse musical elements, but are also bound together by a single vision. Writing music for theatre pieces or film requires a composer and his pieces to engage with people and their movements in space, which is exactly what Fleischmann offers on this record. He breaks down the fourth wall and invites his listeners into his world, a wide-ranging musical panorama. »Music for Shared Rooms« is indeed not an album in the conventional sense of the word, but more like a photo album in which each page opens up a new space to get lost in; recreates different scenes in which you can immerse yourself. These are shared rooms indeed.

Mannequin Records presents a special release that bridges two generations of electronic body music: DAF’s iconic track “El Que” reimagined by French techno and EBM pioneer Terence Fixmer.

A lifelong admirer of DAF, Fixmer has been playing El Que in his DJ sets for years, considering it one of the band’s most enduring and powerful pieces. His connection to the track and to DAF’s groundbreaking legacy is the core inspiration behind these two new remixes, created with both reverence and bold creative vision.

On the “El Que (Terence Fixmer Leather Remix)”, Fixmer remains close to the original’s raw, muscular pulse while injecting a sharp, modern club sensibility. The remix builds on DAF’s unmistakable rhythmics but adds a contemporary momentum that feels like a natural extension of the band’s DNA. “It was like imagining what I would do if I were a member of DAF today,” Fixmer says.

The second version, “El Que (Terence Fixmer Drive Remix)”, ventures deeper into Fixmer’s own territory: darker, hypnotic, and peak-time focused. Tension and release are crafted with surgical precision, taking the original’s spirit into a harder-edged, suspense-driven sound world. It’s a version built for late-night floors without ever losing the soul of El Que.

Fixmer explains:
“I’ve been playing DAF’s El Que in many of my DJ sets for years. It’s a track I deeply loved from the first listen. I’m super proud to have remixed DAF — one of my cult bands and a major influence on my sound and electronic universe. For the "Leather Remix", I wanted to stay close to the original while bringing modernity and club momentum. For the "Drive Remix", I pushed the track toward darker, peak-time and hypnotic techno, keeping the soul of the original intact. I wanted to make versions that make you think: ‘I know this track… but wait — what is this version? I want it!’ When I tested them, that’s exactly what happened.”

DAF remains one of the most influential bands in electronic music history. These new remixes by Terence Fixmer reinforce the timeless power of El Que while offering two striking, club-ready perspectives for a new generation of listeners.

First time reissue of JP free jazz rarity, pre-Seikatsu Kōjyō Iinkai group.

The single album self-released by the quartet Shūdan Sokai in 1977 is one of the most vital documents of mid-seventies Japanese free jazz, documenting Tokyo’s free scene at the precise moment when it began to shift to a handful of tiny venues on the western fringes of the city. In Free Jazz in Japan, Teruto Soejima identifies the extant venue Aketa no Mise in Nishi-Ogikubo as the pioneer of this decamping from the centre: a cramped basement beneath a rice shop, seating just 20 people. Musician-run, operated on a shoestring, these spaces offered a vital site for community, creativity, and a small measure of financial independence — “even though it was in a basement, in spirit it was a loft.”

Among the most active of the new venues was Alone in Hachiōji, nearly an hour from Shinjuku, in a district shaped by universities, lower rents, and a thriving counterculture. Originally opened in 1973 as a jazu kissa, Alone was unusually spacious and equipped with a stage, grand piano, and drum kit. Around 1974, Junji Mori and Yasuhiro Sakakibara began working there, booking free jazz players on weekends and establishing the venue as a crucial hub. Mori recalls early appearances by figures including Kazutoki Umezu, Toshinori Kondo, and others who would define the scene.

In early 1976, Umezu and pianist Yoriyuki Harada — recently returned from New York’s loft jazz environment, where they had played with musicians such as David Murray and William Parker — formed Shūdan Sokai with Mori and drummer Takashi Kikuchi. The name, meaning “mass evacuation,” pointed to their self-chosen exile in Hachiōji. With Alone as their home base, the quartet developed a music characterized by an infectious sense of enjoyment and a willingness to integrate free jazz with elements of song structure. Harada switched between piano and bass; the group experimented with rap-like vocal pieces, jabbering nursery rhymes over bass rhythms.

They returned to Alone on December 24 to record Sono zen’ya (Eve), releasing it on their own Des Chonboo Records, partially funded by advertisements from local businesses printed on the rear cover. The closing “Ballad for Seshiru,” dedicated to Harada’s newborn son, unfolds over a delicate piano melody that moves into emphatic chords as intertwining alto lines rise and spiral.

Alone closed in September 1977, and Shūdan Sokai soon dissolved, later morphing into the expanded Seikatsu Kōjyō Iinkai Orchestra. What remains is a recording rooted in a specific place and moment: a fiercely independent scene sustained by small rooms, close listening, and collective commitment.

Like its cover, Nicolas Remondino's Hìeratico plays in the rich shades of crepuscular spaces. A night-tuned, percussion led album where prepared drums are accompanied by flickers of spoken word, acoustic instruments and muted electronics,

The title translates to 'hieratic', for Remondino a "black and gold" term laden with dualities and complex connotations. A sense of teetering between sparkling light and richly coloured darkness imbues the music, the compositions simulating a sense of heightened acuity as they convey us through a spooky elemental soundworld. The opening title track begins with a metallic shimmer, a drum skin activated in a way that sounds like it's being smelted. A cushioned rhythm enters, a smothered timbre akin to hearing something lurking around the garden. On "litho non-danse", percussion cracks like branches and dried foliage under foot.

Remondino recorded initial outlines for the pieces at Giuseppe Ielasi's studio in Milan, before fleshing out these ideas with his own additional instrumentation and contributions from a globe-spanning network of collaborators. On "blue hymne", chiming percussion equal parts jubilant and sinister heralds spoken word from Limpe Fuchs. "Tombal" opens with Massimo Silverio whispering in the Carnic dialect, a minority language from the Carnic Alps. Around, Marco Baldini, Pierre Bastien and Remondino construct a somber soundscape that cranks and sighs in the crevices.

Hìeratico is an album of hybrids. Diverse voices, accents and dialects deliver its lyrics, the instrumentation underpinning it crosses idioms. The drumkit at its core is modified to amplify its resonant tones and harmonics. Inspired by natural substances and phenomena: stone, wood, wind, earth, metal, grass, rain, clouds and bark, Remondino explores how percussion could evoke their materiality, treating drums as lucid textural instruments as much as rhythmic timekeepers. It gives the album a finely shaded depth and clarity as it conjures the vibrancies that reside in darkened corners. Hìeratico dwells in a sensation that crosses borders, the speckles of light in the oblique night sky. Listening is an aural equivalent to stepping into a pitch black forest and waiting for your eyes to adjust, a lightless void turning into a spectacular tableau of shadows and glows. Daryl Worthington

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

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

With Variations for Light Waves, Swedish composer Linnéa Talp deepens the focus and intensity that shaped her 2022 debut Arch of Motion. Once again, the breath and hum of the pipe organ form the album’s core, but here she pushes further into deep listening and sonic nuance. Across seven pieces, she lingers on the instrument’s most resonant points, allowing its character to reveal itself slowly and patiently.
Talp’s path to this work has unfolded with similar steadiness. After first emerging with her project Deerest, she shifted toward improvisation and minimal composition, guided by an increasing sensitivity to sound and perception. Careful listening is now central to her practice, informing both her methods and her musical language.
The album was recorded over four years on pipe organs across Sweden, including a small funeral-chapel instrument in Lötsjökapellet—an environment Talp describes as an exceptional space for listening. Several pieces feature Christer Bothén (contrabass clarinet) and Mats Äleklint (trombone), whose playing blends seamlessly into her aerated organ tones. The improvisation “Air On Both Sides,” recorded in 2022 with Bothén, became the project’s starting point, an immersive bath in glowing harmonics. At times she interweaves Buchla recordings, setting electronic breath against acoustic resonance.
Talp’s fascination with quietness and delicacy is balanced by an interest in sonic brittleness. The closing title track gradually dismantles a downward chord progression, drifting into gentle collapse, while the brief opener pushes the organ’s pipes into gasping strain. These moments create a music open to chance, instability, and transformation.
Threads running through the album include an interest in chords, subtle improvisation, light, and memories of coastal landscapes. Talp also connects the work to the “thick white fog” surrounding her daughter’s birth. The result is music that envelopes like mist yet continually reveals new shapes—a world o

The album presents a distinctive artistic statement built around song, texture and collective exploration. Opening tracks such as 'Fair Weather' and 'The Big Flood' draw on the oblique lyricism of Henry Cow and the surreal songcraft of Robert Wyatt, with Beraha's voice at the centre of a sound world shaped by analogue radio collage and drifting, delayed saxophone lines. Punk-inflected rhythms emerge on 'Modern Times', while the reflective 'Into the Woods' blends lyrical song with collective improvisation, highlighting the ensemble's dynamic range. Across the album, tightly composed material sits alongside free improvisation, cinematic writing and storytelling. Tracks including 'February' and 'I the King' explore contemporary jazz, humour and surreal narrative, while groove- led pieces such as 'Dorian Gray's Bathroom Cabinet' and Morricone- inspired 'Same Time Next Week' showcase rhythmic drive and playfulness. The album closes with 'Strangers on a Train', where scripted text gives way to improvised spoken dialogue over a relentless pulse, uniting the record's themes of collaboration, narrative and spontaneity. Reflecting on the recording process, Kevin Figes describes Wallpaper Music III as "a joy to make", marking a return to Rockfield Studios and a collaborative experience with musicians whose sensitivity, imagination and improvisational skill shaped the music at every stage

Green Sleeve 2026 Repress

The earliest musical memories of young Prince Istari are of his mother beautifying the home with her piano playing. She would repeatedly play the tranquil pieces of Erik Satie. Skipping school and sitting in the sun, young Prince would listen to these catchy, calm compositions.

In the first week of 2024, the older Prince Istari rediscovered himself and found a box containing his mother's old sheet music. He transferred them to his computer and began spinning dub versions from them. It became a tapestry. As his mother used to say: "To weave a net, one must first spin." The form of the pieces dictated the direction each would take. The heavy dub transforms here into a light weightiness until it dissolves into a pure piano piece accompanied by a synthesizer. However, the last piece is much older, from the time when Prince was still known as Istari Lasterfahrer. The ending includes a distorted recording of Huberta, Prince's mother, playing a Gnossienne by Satie. At the end, she turns the sheet music, and the record can be turned back to the beginning.

In the essence of its material, this record rejects the Loudness War. The originality of the compositions guided the dub within their tracks, thereby imparting to each a form descriptive of its essence.