Search:the drones

“Praying to god whether or not I believe there is one” - PH

Petra Hermanova and Unguarded announce In Death’s Eyes (UGD-009), the debut solo LP under the artist’s own name. This LP features nine tracks utilizing folk and sacred musical technique and instrumentation which drift between song and heavy distorted drones. In a disciplined display of beauty, pain, and astute musicianship, Hermanova brings forth a notable accomplishment of an album. In Death’s Eyes confronts death from start to finish with a rare fervor that leaves one feeling it was utterly necessary for Hermanova to produce - to survive. The transcendent impulse, or the influence of religious music, bears heavily on Hermanova’s compositions in her choir arrangements, but is most apparent in her use of pipe organ, opening the record on Black Glass. Having written organ parts for a significant portion of the record, she sought out the renowned organist Denny Wilke to record with her in the Merseburg Cathedral. Captivated by Wilke's profound skill as a player and knowledge of the Ladegast organ, Hermanova invited him to collaborate on Two Deaths where he delivers an impressive improvisation. While religious music offers spiritual solace from grief, folk speaks to the human and earthly as told by the individual, be they songs of suffering or joy, sin or salvation. To Hermanova, the clean promise of liturgical music is not enough to alleviate the blunt pain of grief. Contrasting the spiritual is the voice of the individual sufferer - the folk musician. For Hermanova, the autoharp embodies this contrast. The autoharp, a familiar sound in Appalachian folk music since its mass production in the late 1800’s, is an affordable instrument designed for the unskilled player. It is the antithesis of the organ which is costly, gargantuan, reserved for skilled players, and quite literally a part of the church. Through In Death’s Eyes the sounds of transcendence blend with the worldly, the tension between them poignantly expressing Hermanova’s struggle for spiritual resolution against the reality of death and loss. Like Hermanova’s lyrics, the artwork, conceptualized by Enes Güç and Evelyn Bencicova, is riddled with symbolism and allusion. We find Hermanova on the cover, digitally rendered. Reclining like an anatomical Venus, her vital organs are exposed, suggesting she is denied a transcendent death and is instead immaculately human. Bearing a sickle, her legs are metallic like armor, both symbols of protection. We see here in this image, as we hear in the nine tracks of IDE, the metaphoric state of someone ravaged by loss, choosing to tear herself open in an attempt to heal. - Reece Cox Petra Hermanova is a musician and visual artist based in Berlin. In 2018, Hermanova began working with the autoharp, which has since become the central pillar of her musical practice. Drawing inspiration from folk, medieval drone, and contemporary textural expressions, as well as Appalachian autoharp music, she creates emotionally driven arrangements accompanied by vocals. In her lyrics, she speaks to the fragility and tenderness of the human condition, religious conceptions of death, and introspective landscapes through narrative and symbolism. Hermanova debuted live at the Berliner Festspiele event The Sun Machine is Coming Down, performed at Trauma Bar und Kino accompanied with her choir, and recently took part in Sorour Darabi’s durational performance From the Throat to the Dawn. Her debut solo album, In Death’s Eyes, is set for release in 2023 on the art platform and label Unguarded. The album, where she wrote for the autoharp, pipe organ, solo voice and choir, features the acclaimed organist Denny Wilke playing the 19th century Ladegast organ of the Merseburg Cathedral. She has toured internationally with previous projects, including extensive sound and visual collaborations with Jon Eirik Boska (Hydropsyche) as well as with her award-winning band Fiordmoss. She was recently announced as a SHAPE+ platform artist.

First time on Vinyl, presented in Gatefold Sleeve on Double LP. Originally released in 2015 and carefully forged between 2011 and 2014, "De Aeris In Sublunaria Influxu" showcases a magically crafted alchemical wedding between these two titans of drone ambient. The 2LP features an exclusive bonus track. Troum navigates through cavernous, subterranean spaces where cyclical sounds reverberate towards impressive crescendos of icy noise, luminous drones and dramatic, guitar-driven ghostly melodies. Their truly unique soundscapes shine in a perfect symbiotic movement with the Swedish dark ambient maestro Peter Andersson. Engulfed in a hauntingly beautiful kaleidoscope of grey-ish melancholia, raison d’être comfortably walks deeply into Troum’s vast territory, delivering his very own trademark of eerie tones, ominous sacral ambience and crystal clear constructions. Airy lush enigmatic atmospheres live together with dark breathing, reverberant transformative drones. Rich and gorgeously layered.
All sounds assembled and recorded by raison d'être (Peter Andersson) and Troum (Stefan Knappe, Martin Gitschel) between 2011-2014. All sounds processed, manipulated and structured by Peter Andersson 2011-2014. K-14 level mastering by Peter Andersson 2014. Artwork by Ritxi Ostáriz.

2LP Vinyl Edition of 300 copies, Gatefold Sleeve, Matt Lamination, Black Paper Innersleeves. 8 Tracks. Running Time 76:28

The Athenian producer Aggelos Baltas alias Anatolian Weapons captures on the album Earth the feeling of an optimistic future that grows on the soil of the sweet bitterness of the present and the past.

Under his pseudonym Anatolian Weapons, Baltas combines polyrhythmic percussion and wailing tones of Greek folk music with a thrilling and open Krautrock attitude. The album Earth takes us on a mystical journey through the northern Greek highlands, backed by Baltas’ unique machine-assisted folk, infused with psychedelic drones and exuding an aura that is neither then nor now, neither there nor here. Instead, it exists in a small pocket of its own cosmos. A crossroads of dimensions. A mystical offering to nature and the divinities.

Baltas has explored and reframed various Greek scenes of yesteryear in the past, such as with his Fantastikoi Hxoi project, which created Krautrock mutations from 60s and 70s pop, but Earth is an even more far-reaching expedition. It is a folk reckoning with ancient Greek musical traditions with a modern upgrade. The album reconstructs a sonic narrative of ancient traditions, enhanced with psychedelic and space-rock elements. In the reverb cycle, one hears a certain agrarian reinterpretation of the world, filled with harvest rituals and celestial incantations.

It is with great pleasure to welcome Anatolian Weapons to the label. During a longer stay in Athens, a friendship developed that led to a variety of musical projects and ideas. One of them is the release of the album Earth.

Having been deck slaying as near their London headquarters as Germany and as far as Canada, goth techno prodigy Lesser Of is steadily approaching double digit release count. With an established residence at queer x trans focused, revolutionary event series Subverted, their efforts have been welcomed to a formidable list of industrial electronic labels and remixed by a tidy sum of high profile scene icons.

Here at Depth.Request our sonars are attuned to emanant potential, and so we conscript Lesser Of to hammer out our fourth acetate offering to date. To this, harsh noise and drone music inspirations are declared, alongside an artistic secret of the trade: lights-off sessions in live room of a recording studio vibrating with the pulse of a bass guitar ran through a freeze pedal were what begot the tracks, and they are well intent on assaulting your headphones with noise. Reeko on the remix - yes, this record fucks.

Prolonged, ominous intro? Nah. Have a face full of Crude Manifestation Of Power instead, as an insatiable, 10-minute long opener braces your ears for a week of ringing with a sonic equivalent of metallic thrashing one could expect from being a sinful, rave-lusting scoundrel. On title-diverting continuation Within My Fragility the words "strength in fragility" are truly alliterated as the pace, abrasiveness and intensity of pummelling are all ramped up fiercely, with linear open hats thrown against them from time to time for good measure. Having reached 140 BPM and concrete mean, Masked proceeds in a well anticipated ra(n)ge: infernal atmosphere, sandy hats and layered tectonic tremors achieved with increasingly undefined low end consisting of a rumble line and rolling kick morphing into abrasive haze. Winding the tempo back a notch, a halftimearranged contemplation Our Descent grows in direct, hyperborean vector: glassy drones and sharp syncopulsation first - atonal reverberations, distorted arpeggios and punchy stabs endwise. Reeko's analog reinvention of Masked convolves the drum structure by borrowing from breakbeat narratives and authorizes the dystopian ambiance to rise and fall on more gradual, panning, confined terms; adding, however, more disorder to the mix with spectrum slicing, high-range chaos.

As you would have learned to expect from Depth.Request, Within My Fragility EP is not an easy listening five-tracker. If by the end of it you find yourself feeling as if you just stepped out of a pounding warehouse at 3AM and you don't know what day it is, you wouldn't have been experiencing this mindspace alone.

Moments of eternity: the first plucks at the strings, a bass note cementing the drift into place a little more than a minute in. The organ drones, iterating unrelivable ancient history, a chiming note of the church. Guitars strings, climbing that stairway to heaven. Gossamer-light when viewed from a distance; up close, the gears grind with a visceral physicality. With BCMC, Cooper Crain and Bill MacKay unite to create Foreign Smokes: provocalogues, equal parts avant-garde noir and fire-and-icy jams to recall bright shades and warm stretches of infinity drawn through the buzzy overdrive of this side of life"s strange and sunny days. Cooper"s organ and synths and Bill"s guitar draw songs from spontaneous statements and elegiac scraps, floating closer, then farther, and closer again to the sounds of the other. Starting with a melody, as set of progressions or even as little as a scale or just a key, gives room for either one of "em to take the lead, depending on where they are or are going at any given time. The reigning motif most often seems to be, to melt and wind around each other"s sound, part of a singular undulation, handed back and forth, a slowly emerging trip up into and through an ideal of exuberance.

The inaugural release on KMRU's own fledgling OFNOT imprint, 'Dissolution Grip' is an ambitious project that emerged from his studies at Berlin's prestigious UDK. The Kenyan composer and sound artist is best known for his field recording work, and as he traveled across Europe and the wider world for regular live performances, he made a point to snapshot each city. But the more he studied and the more he examined his practice, the more KMRU began to wonder what the purpose of these recordings were, and what bearing they might actually have on his self-expression. Simultaneously, he'd begun to dive more wholeheartedly into the world of synthesis. In a way, synthesis is the most basic form of sound, and KMRU started to wonder not just how he could harness these sounds but how he might be able to more dynamically combine them with field recordings.

Guided by Jasmine Guffond at Berlin's Universität der Künste (better known as UDK), KMRU looked at waveforms - the visual representation of sound itself - and embarked on a process where he would write scores from the shapes, gradually turning the scores into raw synth sounds. Considering the spaces he was inspired by and shuttled through, KMRU decided that instead of using environmental recordings as an aesthetic marker, he would use these captured moments to guide the waveforms. So each sound is birthed from a field recording, but none of those recordings are audible in their original form. For example, on the digital bonus track 'Along A Wall', KMRU recorded in an old shack on his family's compound in Nairobi, where wind was shaking the building to its foundations. Listening to the finished piece, we can hear subtle electronic tones that rub and vibrate against each other, slowly saturating and mimicking the erratic motion of the wind. The original recording has been removed, but the feeling remains.

The album's opening side 'Till Hurricane Bisect' is a 15-minute epic that evolves at its own glacial pace, carefully transforming blustering wind sounds into gasping drones, glassy oscillations and choked distortion. Cosmic and meditative, it's a testament to KMRU's skill as a sound engineer and patience as a composer, combining the gentle world building of his acclaimed Editions Mego album 'Peel' with the rumbling energy of 'Limen', last year's collaboration with Aho Ssan. On the title track, KMRU takes the opportunity to flex his orchestral muscle, conducting a cast of warbling synth tones into a durational symphony. Starting as quietly as a whisper, 'Dissolution Grip' expands at its own pace until it's a dense wall of harmony, powerful but never completely overwhelming. It's music embedded with a rich sense of place that informs us of KMRU's past and present, and signals where his musical philosophy might take us in the future.

a-Musik, the Cologne-based bastion of sonic exploration, unveils a new chapter in their quest for boundary-pushing sounds.

Timekeepers II, a split LP featuring recordings of two duos by Marcus Schmickler with Jaki Liebezeit and with Hayden Chisholm. Side A bears the imprint of Liebezeit's rhythmic flow fusing with Schmickler's digital Shepard Tone interpretation. A studio recording taken before a performance at Moers Festival in 2014. On side B, Schmickler's electronics converge with Chisholm's bagpipe drones. The piece was composed for their show at Art's Birthday at Berghain and a-Musik's 20th anniversary at Gebäude 9.

Tim Berresheim's artwork serves as a visual backdrop. Berresheim mostly works with computer rendered images, which have been created for a solo exhibition at JUBG in Cologne in 2022.

A Crimson Shore is Saåad’s first studio album since Présence/Absente in 2018. In the interim, Toulouse-based composer and producer Romain Barbot has enriched his experience as an artist through multiple collaborations, the composition of soundtracks and commissioned pieces, as well his involvement with the bands FOUDRE! and Sables Noirs.

This new chapter in the artist’s discography reflects this artistic maturity, evoking the project’s finest ambient recordings while revealing a new, unfiltered and decisive personality. Saåad’s use of a more direct musical language (exclusively electronic on this album) is intended to lay bare the inner life of its creator: the tracks are structured in a cycle of loops, vibrations and drones which respond to and confront each other like the torments of existence, torn between the twilight of sombre music reduced to its purest function of catharsis and the dawn of a new, luminous narrative journey.

A Crimson Shore is a raw, all-encompassing album, shot through with the fear of death, of growing old, of accepting it, of grief — past, present, imagined and future — and the search for a transcendental refuge.

After already having taken forward-thinking extreme music to unprecedented heights over the course of their short but propulsive career, Richmond's INTER ARMA are back with another opus of epic proportions. Like the band's previous works, the new album Paradise Gallows is direct and foreboding while maintaining a nuanced, artful perspective. INTER ARMA's signature palette of dissonant high-end and abyssal low-end has been augmented with swathes of thick, impressionistic melody that lend Paradise Gallows a truly biblical sense of scale, both lyrically and in terms of the album's sonic content. Harsh and acoustic passages (including the band's first-ever foray into clean vocals) spar with complex rhythmic structures across nine sweeping tracks over 71 minutes of expansive, progressive heaviness. Dense, funereal, and richly evocative, Paradise Gallows is a vibrant blend of doom, post-metal, sludge, avant-garde, black and death metal, and is a singular and powerful new addition to the band's already monumental discography. Includes Digital Download

DeForrest Brown Jr., the writer and producer behind Speaker Music, describes Techxodus as "abstracting Blackness through information overload". On the album he explores the intersection of tech, Blackness and resistance via music taken from his archived live shows, which are then edited, ordered and reassembled in the studio. The main line of inquiry that feeds into Techxodus is Drexciya, whose myths have informed much recent afrofuturist creativity. DeForrest researches and reimagines the artifacts and stories of Drexciya with new maps, ideas and music, particularly reflecting on the 'Seven Storms', seven albums that came out in quick succession around the death of Drexciya member James Stinson, which seemed to herald Drexciyans in the attack mode. The artwork by Abu Qadim Haqq, who also created artwork for Drexciya, links the work too, with Deforrest re-orienting charts and timelines familiar from Drexciyan mythology, working up clues to all possible environments where Drexciyans could survive, from the depths of the Atlantic, to oceanic islands or even outer space. Like Sun-Ra, another touchstone of Afrofuturist music, it might be that the Drexciyans wanted to leave the planet they hated. With these elements, DeForrest creates a soundtrack for an alternate history, a sort of sci-fi sonic fiction which threads together the sonic warfare and mythos of the Drexciyan records with ideas and references to Ishmael Reed's 'Mumbo Jumbo', which tracks the story of 'Jes Grew', an audio virus, back to the coastal black cities of Alabama and the American South. Musically the album is as intense as its inspirations. DeForrest skilfully hand-plays rhythms which amalgamate trap and jazz drumming, but feel at times like orca-song as they pulse through the thick waves of digital sound. Equally the music evokes the ocean, with deep cold drones, or as if it's floating through time like in 'Holosonic Rebellion' which mixes in recordings of African Warriors. Sometimes there is an energetic turbulence as on 'Jes Grew', where punched-in passages of jazz brass bounce against DeForrest's drums to create a weird disassembled jazz. Towards the end the album begins to feel like a spaceship taking off, the rushes of ascending noise and distortion, distant Southern Gospel Vocals feel like music that's leaving earth. Listen to it without the references or feed your imagination; this is a powerful and immersive original work from one of electronic music's most unique creators.

Faitiche welcomes Andrew Black aka blackbody_radiation. His debut album Ultra Materials gathers six ghostly drones, created with the help of sound masking.

Andrew Black, who hails from one of the UK's post industrial North West Milltowns has a sensitive feeling for space and its acoustics. Having trained as a designer and operated within the realms of architecture and public space, it was only natural to extend his interest to manipulating field recordings.

The six pieces collected on Ultra-Materials provide an insight into Black's highly sensitive minimalism: they stand for a subtly meandering mediation on room acoustics and place, which are manipulated with the help of sound masking, among other things - that is, the addition and superimposition of artificially generated frequencies to mask unwanted sounds.

Sometimes the pieces are reminiscent of warm engine noise, sometimes one thinks of carefully captured natural phenomena. Their strength lies in their elusiveness: free of concrete attributions or musical location, they can unfold their hypnotic pull without revealing anything about their origins. Harmonics at times shimmer, at times warble and at times coexist. It is an attempt to get in touch with our listening abilities.

After another long hiatus, BEAM is excited to present the vinyl debut from rising star and nebulous neurocranker, al dente. Over 4 tracks, ‘Running and Falling Over’ captures the stylistic fluidity we have come to know and love from Naarm/Melbourne. Ever present traces of Dozzy refract through millennium-bug tech-house, summoning atmospheres of deep yet ever playful psychedelia. Opening the A-side on ‘Ripple Effect’, pulsating drones and echoes of organic percussion slither through the undergrowth. ‘Soft Steps’ explores fractal resonance amid expansive, evolving textures. Flipping to the B-side, ‘Unfold’ melds paranoiac psy with a wiggly tek swagger. Slow-burner ‘Blue Trial’ closes out the EP – a proggy roller for the eternal sunrise.

Mixed by Declan Vadasz
Mastered by Marco Pellegrino @ AnalogCut
Artwork by Rudi Schmidt
Type by Studio Joel

The album title is an ancient alchemic motto which means "Walk within yourself'' in Latin.
Recorded only and exclusively with electric guitar, the musician explores the threshold of subconscious with heavy drones, fragile soundscapes and haunting melodies, realizing a work between ambient and high-volume drone music. ''Ambula ab intra is an oneiric travel into the depths of the psyche, experiencing the inner path into Self. The outcome is an ethereal work of heavy ambient guitar soundscapes.

Selected Songs 1997-2003 compiles some of the finest moments in the recording history of Hydroplane, the Melbourne-based indie-pop three-piece that operated alongside The Cat’s Miaow through the second half of the nineties. It’s the third release in what feels, now, like a loosely planned series by World Of Echo, documenting the music made by this group of friends in Melbourne sharehouses (The Cat’s Miaow’s Songs ’94-’98, 2022), or in the case of The Shapiros (Gone By Fall, 2023), while traversing the International Pop Underground.

Hydroplane would be familiar to anyone already following these breadcrumb trails – Andrew Withycombe, Bart Cummings and Kerrie Bolton were the group’s core, all members of The Cat’s Miaow. With Cat’s Miaow drummer Cameron Smith itinerant, having moved to London, the trio used this opportunity to expand their music. It’s a subtle, but important shift. If The Cat’s Miaow was about the perfect, minimalist, two-minute pop song, Hydroplane’s music was far more open-ended, embracing the loops and drones, sampled house-y shuffle beats, the burbling of a Roland Jupiter-4 synth, all of which the trio joined, effortlessly, to their endless capacity for moving, elegant melodicism.

They may have only planned to release one seven-inch single, but the sound Hydroplane created was so bewitching, so compelling, that the project’s lifespan ran for around half a decade, and they ended up releasing three albums, including a self-titled debut recently reissued by Efficient Space, and seven singles. There are all kinds of compelling things happening in the music compiled here – the hazy repetition of the gentler side of Krautrock is in here, somewhere, which also suggests Stereolab at their most intimate and disarmed; the gently drifting guitars, gauzy and oneiric, set the songs adrift and floating, each one lost in its own imagined, distracted world. Songs like “The Love You Bring” set indistinct tonal floats across dance rhythms, in a way not quite heard since My Bloody Valentine’s “Instrumental” – but with the added gift of Bolton’s gorgeous voice.

This loose coalition with dance music, and the quiet experimentalism at the heart of Hydroplane, also gestures towards peers like Hood, Acetate Zero and Other People’s Children, and releases on renegade labels like Wurlitzer Jukebox and Enraptured. Like those groups and labels, The Cat’s Miaow were reconciling independent pop music’s past – sweet melody and melancholy, chiming and droning guitars – with the futures promised by DIY electronics and nascent digitalia, the interface of indie and IDM that led to some of the underground’s most blissful, texturally swoonsome music. All that is here, but also, the poise of the melodies is pure Cat’s Miaow, though, with Bolton’s voice sailing, pacifically, over some of the most pared-down, gorgeous music made during their decade.

It was a time, too, when such music could make waves – “We Crossed The Atlantic”, one of their early singles, was picked up by John Peel, who played it repeatedly on his legendary radio show, the song reaching #13 on his 1997 Festive 50. That the song itself was a cover of a tune by 1960s Australian beatnik-pop-poet Pip Proud felt even more perfect – a group of outsiders paying tribute to another outsider, played on the radio one of the few broadcasters brave and human enough to take a chance on this music. But it was a time where everything was up for grabs, and genres were flowing into each other: folk songs went drone; indie re-discovered noise; ambient pop floated, again, out onto the dancefloor. And while they may have been sequestered away in Melbourne, Australia, Hydroplane felt core to that scene, a quietly driving force.

Compiling material from across their brief but mercurial career, this double album perfectly captures the magic and mystery of Hydroplane’s dreamlike, perfect pop songs.

After his acclaimed album for us released recently, Ribe comes again into the mothership with this modular madness EP, proving again his mastery of intelligent techno and sound design.

La penumbra is the first track, as the title suggests, darkness and shadows come immediately to mind when listening to it. A solitary bass drum joined by several drones and ambiences interleaving and mutating over the arrangement.

El Metodo follows, electric and sharp, with repetitive modular bleeps floating over a bass heavy groove. The only additional elements are percussive and come into the track progressively until the hypnotic climax.

Flipping the record, Las Raices introduce distortion and roughness on the equation, relying on a powerful groove soon accompanied by high pitched drones and electric synthetic washes.

Last Tune is Bajo el Olivo, liquid and elastic, with resonant bubbles going asymmetrically on top of the rhythm with occasional percussive details going on the back. A sci-fi sequence appears in the middle of the track adding additional sound hypnosis.

No doubt that Ribe has his own trademark sound and we are really proud of having him onboard.

Lee Gamble’s UIQ label unveils a second album from Filipina-Australian artist Corin Ileto, deploying a brace of swarming alien chorales and rapturous digital rave noise to explore the idea of sound as a sentient being. Bold and operatic, cinematic and cybernetic.

Named after the iconic choral work by 20th Century avant-garde legend György Ligeti (as immortalised by Stanley Kubrick in 2001), ‘Lux Aeterna' explores the idea of micropolyphony, a term Ligeti described as a complex polyphony "in which harmonies do not change suddenly, but merge into one another." Like Ligeti, Corin isn't primarily concerned with melody or rhythm, but timbre: the colour and quality of sound itself.

Taking its time to unfurl, the album opens with ‘lumen naturae’, winding tonal clouds that eventually latch onto a misshapen hoover sound that curves into the abyss. Corin shows her hand more formally on 'sunta', balancing layered cybernetic drones against ratcheting metallic rhythms and unstable textures. When the track cuts to almost-silence, it reminds us of Akira Rabelais' ghosted 'Spellewauerynsherde' (itself an impressionistic granulation of vocal recordings), before being disrupted by a dynamic kick that shares DNA with club music.

But despite her occasional flirtations with the club, Ileto doesn't appear to have any interest in making functional dance music. Instead, she emphasises momentum and texture. Like a celestial opera, ecstatic trance is reimagined within the context of sacred liturgy – merging hyper-real soundscapes with Gregorian chant and medieval instrumentation. Chrome-plated clangs and growling subs highlight the album’s sci-fi leanings, tapping into a sort of retro-futurism that balances a hi-tech mindset with a feeling of deep vulnerability and alienation.

Galcher Lustwerk has put together a collection of 10 ambient cuts here that he wrote to score a film by Josh Kline, a fine artist whose solo exhibition "Project for a New American Century" recently opened at the Whitey Museum of American Art in New York. It is a dystopic science fiction movie that details what happens after the climate crisis really takes hold. The music is an esoteric mix of free jazz, drones and bleeped-out ambient that is alive with busy, fizzing frequencies. It's a dense, textural brew that collides synth and sax sounds into a new sort of tribute to Ridley Scott's Blade Runner score.

Brilliantly remastered (picture) LP/CD with new stunning artwork!
Lo-Fi India Abuse was recorded in 1998, some tracks are “pure” Muslimgauze and some are re-mixs of tracks from Systemwide’s “Sirius” CD (see also Systemwide meets Muslimgauze “at the City of the Dead” 12″). Nearly all of the tracks have hand percussion in varying tempos and intensities and at least 1/2 make use of electronic noise surges. The sound is very crisp and clean, extremely well produced, recorded and nicely varied throughout the length of the disc. Some track by track comments: “Antalya” is obviously from the same sessions as “Fakir Sind” seeing as it shares the same hand percussion sound, whistles, vocal wailing, cut-ups and delays. “Valencia Flames” sounds like a Systemwide remix. A dub bass line, hi-hat and background vocal of some sort are all obliterated by numerous delays, starts, stops and re-starts with an unpredictable nature in these cut-up tracks. “Al Souk Dub” injects background voices, market sounds and drones into the cut-up mix of slow hand percussion playing. “Catacomb Dub” and the final two tracks make use of twinkling synth waves, presumably a Systemwide sound source. “Dust of Saqqara” has a heavy pulsating electronic sound wave over an old beat box rhythm. “Android Cleaver” is brutal (as is “Nommos’ Afterburn”) hand percussion, jabs of noise and an oft repeated, unintelligible vocal sample. Yes, Lo-Fi India Abuse is yet another great Muslimgauze release, grab it!
All tracks recorded by Muslimgauze 1998
Some tracks are re-mixes from Systemwide’s “Sirius” album
Re-mastered by Višeslav Laboš
Sleeve by Oleg Galay
Originally released in 1999 via BSI Records (BSI 1999-3).

In an era defined by futility, isolation, and precarity, it can be difficult to envision a utopia. But on Skeleten’s thrilling, immersive debut album, Under Utopia, the Sydney musician dares to imagine new ways of being that are not characterized by doom or despair. Across eleven tracks of free-flowing, transcendent, and often euphoric electronic music, Skeleten praises the power of comradery and community; while dreaming of a future that is joyously boundless. 



Skeleten, real name Russell Fitzgibbon, has always been fascinated by the ideas of utopias. He’s thought a lot about how the concept has shifted and morphed throughout history, and how the goal post for a utopia is always moving further and further away. “We're more familiar with the idea of a dystopia in the modern world - that's more close to our consciousness. I think on this album I wanted to explore the importance of imaging and embodying a new world.”

Written before and during the pandemic, the album was born out of a desire to connect with others and to shake the mantle of introspection that had been placed on his previous works. From the opening notes of the otherworldly album opener “Generator”, it's clear that this record prioritises immediate pleasures without forgoing intimacy. The lyrics are also more explicit, reaching outward with inviting choruses and mantra-like melodies. “I think the album came out of the experience of feeling this great desire to reconnect and dreaming of the power of community,” says the musician.

This is especially present in lead single ‘Sharing The Fire’, a song that crackles with optimism. A sprawling dance track with pulsating synths and Fitzgibbon’s gentle, warm vocals, the song is about futures that are full of brightness and bliss. As the artist repeats in the song’s chorus: “for all that you know, summer could be around the corner.” The song is about an “almost frustrated desire to connect with more people and feel that sense of community through shared goals.” The accompanying video clip, shot on 35mm, is similarly invested in ideas of companionship and gathering. Shot in a clinical, drab office space, friends and revelers fill the space with warmth and energy.

Elsewhere, this invocation of paradise is infused in the stripped-back, singular title track “Under Utopia”. The song was significant to Fitzgibbon, as it allowed him to gather all his thoughts and ideas about his new music under one message. “It’s something I wrote when I had this collection of songs and wanted to give it a single voice, which was about seeing the world entirely new, full of hope and beauty, and all of us underneath pushing it upwards.” 

An antidote for gloom presented in Under Utopia is the transformative power of love. There’s “Heart Full Of Tenderness”, a woozy, languorous love song, awash with cloudy vocals and glistening synths; the truncated beats and hypnotic pleading of “Territory Day” and “Right Here It’s Only Love” which explores the icier and ambient side of R’n’B.


Another hallmark that characterizes Under Utopia is Fitzgibbon’s airy and spacious mix, which gives his songs room to sprawl out and simmer; as well as allowing his calming baritone to come to the fore. This is notable in the contemplative, synth-laden “Colour Room”, the funk-tinged “Walking On Your Name,” the previously released “No Drones in the Afterlife,” and the beloved early single “Mirrored,” which speaks of finding yourself through a connection to those around you.

Fitzgibbon has been enmeshed in the Sydney music scene for years. Skeleten emerged out of a need to experiment and make music without worrying about the outcome. “It was just me making music that felt right, and very much focusing on this kind of meditative aspect of exploring without any goal,” says Fitzgibbon. But as the project has evolved, the artist has gained clarity on what he hopes his music will achieve: bringing people together, and creating an atmosphere of elation. Or as Fitzgibbon puts it on Under Utopia’s hallucinatory album closer “We’re gonna get everything we need in the world.”

»Blank Vault / White Stains« is the new solo album by Franz Joseph Kaputt (DRNTTCKS, Otomatik Muziek, Hager/Kaputt). Under his S.U.V. alias, he presents nine highly personal, improvised synthesizer miniatures, accompanied by heavily delayed drum machines and enveloped in clouds of feedback. The music unveils a background rooted in years of noise exercises and ventures into the territories of dark, psychedelic folk, while showcasing a fondness for delicate synthesizer sounds and repetitive song structures. Layers of sound and rhythms collide and arrange themselves to create an idiosyncratic ambient/kraut music that explores the borders of when intimacy becomes toxic. It also delves into how relationships involving kink strategies can be used in a way that don‘t render one powerless or hurt, but ultimately leading to empowerment.

Side A is kind of an utopian dark room, filled with peculiar beats, drones, and dreamy synth arpeggios. Pleasure and joy are subversive acts that challenge and upend stereotypical role models. The pieces revolve around the mutual and consensual exploration of individual boundaries and the transformative states that emerge within these encounters – a unique entity, a »Body Of The Mind« if you will, is formed between individuals. Side B then represents the counterpart. Acid synths, distortion cascades and looped pianos evoke the regression from this playful and subversive approach on to sheer brutality and perverse destruction.

It has been some five years since US ambient maestro zake dropped the first volume of his Orchestral Tape Studies. We're glad to finally have the second instalment in the series available because there has rarely been music as cathartic and soothing as this on our shelves. It's made from drones, field recordings and richly layered movements of fragmented orchestral loops.

It is heavily inspired by the sound of the greatest minimalist symphonic composers and orchestras of the last 100 years and comes in several different colours.

This version is a transparent rose vinyl LP and download code.

One of Japan’s most riveting artists follows that KAKUHAN mindmelt from last year (our number 5 album, 2022) with an engrossing suite of wild field recordings and polymetric percussion featuring a whole raft of additional players weaving drums, wind and brass instruments, cello and electronics into a bewildering Acousmatic matrix. Highly recommended listening if you’re into Marginal Consort, Beatrice Dillon, Will Guthrie, Mark Fell, François Bayle.

Having made his mark on these pages over the last few years with appearances as part of Japan’s cult entities Goat and YPY, Koshiro Hino’s turn last year as KAKUHAN took things to a whole other level with an album that felt like some alchemical mix of elements borrowed from Autechre, Photek, Arthur Russell and Mica Levi - a complete stylistic futureshock that worked as well in the club as it did fuelling extended flights of the imagination.

For 2023, Hino takes us into a completely different headspace, assembling a cast of 11 players - the mighty Joe Talia and KAKUHAN’s other half Yuki Nakagawa among them - for a suite of untamed field recordings, clanging percussion, brass and synthesis that are about as far removed from the diaristic ambient de jour as you could possibly imagine. Instead, the ensemble conjure vibrant sound ecologies teeming with detail, mirroring the natural world and communal traditions to form shapeshifting, organismic soundworlds.

‘Geist II’ was written for 20 speakers, referencing François Bayle’s acousmatic music and David Tudor’s electro-acoustic environments. It paints a richly detailed scene of a nocturnal rainforest, replete with avian hoots and a skin-crawling patina of insectoid chatter that moves around the soundfield, stealthily growing in density with a more “musical” presence of super low end drone and drums converging form the peripheries to a ritualistic climax. In the second part, focus shifts to remarkably pure percussion-like tropical rain, invaded by swarms of scuttling and winged invertebrates that give way to a water music-like polymetric slosh, resolving to ringing tones and more mellifluous gestures that hark back to GRM’s most poetic, romantic urges.

It's a deeply psychedelic experience that harmonises tiny electronic fluctuations with bird calls and scraped, resonant drones that phase in-and-out of the mix. It's sound you can practically chew, and another crucial despatch from the contemporary Japanese avant-garde.

Blue Lake is the musical moniker of American born, Copenhagen based multidisciplinary artist and musician Jason Dungan, who signs to the Tonal Union imprint for the release of his new longform album ‘Sun Arcs’. It follows 2022’s release ‘Stikling’, earning a nomination for ‘Album of the Year’ at the Danish Music Awards plus warm praise from The Hum blog and musicians and DJs alike including Jack Rollo (Time is Away/NTS) and Carla dal Forno. A self taught player, Dungan began freely experimenting with self-built multi-string instruments, preferring to build his own hybrid 48-string zither and working in the realms of left-field ambient music, off kilter folk and improvised acoustic minimalism.

The starting point of ‘Sun Arcs’ saw Jason travel for a week alone to Andersabo, a cabin set in the idyllic Swedish woods just outside of Unnaryd, known also as the music project, festival and residency space which has been run by Dungan since 2016, hosting artists like Sofie Birch, Johan Carøe and Ellen Arkbro. Whilst writing 1-2 pieces per day, a conscious decision was made to leave behind everyday distractions and shut out the outside world to instead focus on the natural passage of time as Dungan recalls: “My only sense of time came from these daily walks out in the woods with my dog, and an awareness of the sun’s path as it moved across the sky each day.”

The album’s immersive world unfolds with the opener ‘Dallas’, an ode to his home state and a musical synthesis of these two disparate spaces (Texas and Denmark), the touchstones of Dungan’s life. A folk-esque single acoustic builds to a flowing arrangement of clarinets, organ and cello drones coupled with percussion. ‘Green-Yellow Field’ chimes in as the first of two solo oriented zither recordings twinned with the dreamlike title track ‘Sun Arcs’, both densely rich as cascading and overlapping harmonic tones resound. ‘Bloom’ emerges with a krautrock psyche before an eruption of cello drones, slide guitar and free-ranging zither playing, ushering in the anticipation of spring. With half of the recordings conceived in Andersabo, Jason returned to Copenhagen to form the album's centre piece ‘Rain Cycle’ which features a tempered Roland drum machine alongside shifting zither improvisations. ‘Writing’ explores the shimmering harp-like qualities of sweeping playing figurations with Dungan mapping out adjusted tuning “zones” on the zither for unconventional but creatively liberating effects. ‘Fur’ captures the feeling of openness and the momentum of time, seeing Dungan perform waves of solo clarinet, often in one takes and embellished with textural drones, a zither solo, and layers of guitar. ‘Wavelength’ the album's closer is fondly inspired by the film works of Michael Snow and Don Cherry’s seminal live album ‘Blue Lake’ (1974), as it builds out from a drone-generated zither chord and features an alto recorder solo. Dungan found a deep connection to Cherry’s stripped back performance ethos, focusing on the core beauty of minimal instrumentation creating a genre-less meeting between folk and jazz. A dialogue is formed between the solo and the bandlike performances, interlinked in a geographical duality with all finding a sense of commonplace as musical sketches of visited landscapes. The bountiful instrumentation ebbs and flows as further layers emerge with Dungan constructing his material much like an artist would, recording and reviewing, adding and subtracting.

Musically it portrays a form of double life led by an American-identifying person living in Scandinavia, and a new found presence in Denmark, seeking out underdeveloped marshlands and barren stretches of beach adrift from other rhythms and distractions. Highlighting their individual and potent importance Dungan concludes: “Both places feel like “me”, I think on some level the music is always some kind of self-portrait.” ‘Sun Arcs’ depicts the intricate balance of nature’s cycles and the paths outlined by the seasons, from a winter dormancy to a warm sun drenched scene. The album scales new glorying heights and further defines Dungan’s musical narrative, inhabiting a unique space in left-field, improvised and experimental music, borning his most accomplished compositions to date. A singular and visionary expression, drawing on an array of instruments and sound worlds with a renewed sense of joy and discovery.

The album's rich tapestry was mixed by Jeff Zeigler (Laraaji, Mary Lattimore, Kurt Vile /Steve Gunn) and mastered by Stephan Mathieu (Kali Malone, KMRU, Félicia Atkinson).

Byard Lancaster was a composer/multi-instrumentalist born in Philadelphia in 1942. He started playing alto saxophone at an early age and later took up flute and bass clarinet. While attending Berklee College of Music, Lancaster and pianist Dave Burrell organized late-night jam sessions with fellow students and touring musicians. In 1965, he moved to New York and quickly became part of the city's burgeoning scene – playing with jazz luminaries such as Archie Shepp, Sunny Murray, Bill Dixon and Marzette Watts.

It's Not Up To Us, Lancaster's 1968 debut as a leader, was originally released on Vortex, a subsidiary of Atlantic responsible for first albums by Chick Corea, Keith Jarrett and Sonny Sharrock. Featuring guitarist Sharrock (another Berklee alum), It's Not Up To Us is true fire music – fusing elements of free jazz, soul/R&B and traditional folk song.

On the opening title track, Lancaster's luminous flute draws the listener in, while bassist Jerome Hunter grounds the tune with a simple descending theme over Keno Speller and Eric Gravatt's syncopated rhythms. "John's Children," a reference to the group's status as post-Coltrane players, showcases the modal strumming of Sharrock's steady drones as Lancaster cries into the void. After repeated listens, Lancaster's original compositions become visceral aural memories ingrained in the ear, while the standards ("Misty" and "Over The Rainbow") sound the most avant-garde pieces on the album.

This first-time vinyl reissue is recommended for fans of Albert Ayler, Don Cherry and Pharoah Sanders.

Hannah Peel's viel beachteter Score zur sky orignal Science-Fiction-Serie 'The Midwich Cuckoos'. Nominiert für den Music Producers Guild Award in der Kategorie "Original Score Recording Of The Year".

Die sky orignal Serie 'The Midwich Cuckoos' basiert auf dem Science-Fiction-Roman von John Wyndham aus dem Jahr 1957 und erzählt die Geschichte eines englischen Dorfes, in dem die Frauen auf mysteriöse Weise schwanger werden.
Einzigartig und aufwändig produziert, harmoniert Hannah Peel's Klanglandschaft nahezu perfekt mit dem Sounddesign der sky-Adaption.
Mit analogen Synthesizern, Tonbandmanipulationen, Drones, Holzbläsern und Melodien, die den Gesang des Kuckucks widerschallen, schafft Peel einen Score, der ein perfektes Gleichgewicht herstellt zwischen den organischen Instrumenten und Melodien und der zunehmend düsteren elektronischen "Invasion".

Für ihren Score wurde Hannah Peel für den Music Producers Guild Award in der Kategorie "Original Score Recording Of The Year" nominiert.

- Ltd. Col. LP: (Transparent Yellow Vinyl)

BABY BLUE VINYL

"Workin' all day, trying to forget about the old me." Like most of us, Martin Frawley is busy trying to work himself out. He lives alongside the long shadow of his late dad, musician and songwriter Maurice Frawley, a cultural icon of the Australian underground and collaborator of Paul Kelly, Tex Perkins and Mick Thomas. Most of Martin's 20s were spent writing and playing songs in locally beloved Melbourne band Twerps - a collection of pals who were on the forefront of the city's jangle pop renaissance. A few albums, US tours and band rotations under its belt, Twerps split up in 2018 and Martin turned his compass towards a solo project. His first album, Undone at 31 (2019), was a bit of a reckoning; a wild ride through the wreckage of both a band and longterm romantic break up. His new album The Wannabe is a personal, cheeky and, at times, self-depreiciating collection of songs unpacking the reality of finding his way as an adult without his dad around, and ultimately falling back in love with life, music and someone new. Martin and his band - friends Dan Luscombe (The Drones), Steph Hughes (Boomgates, Dick Diver), Nik Imfeld (Tyrannaman) and Dan Kelly - had heaps of fun recording The Wannabe in Melbourne. The title track is a particularly spicy take on an entertainment industry that seems to give more shits about marketing than music. The album is a bit of an emotional tour, from anger and derision, through to comedy, through to deep and honest love. It's positive with a lot of sadness. Not unlike Martin himself. As well as the guitar, Martin had some fun playing the piano on this record. The technical term is `multiinstrumentalist' but Martin's more of a musical explorer of sorts. No one is exactly sure how these things work - if Martin was born into music or if it was born into him, but it doesn't really matter. Music is what he loves. It's what he does. It's not about the industry or about success - not anymore. It's about the freedom of creating songs on his own terms, and trying to let go of the feeling he has something to prove: to his dad, to his critics, and to himself. And while he's not sure he'll ever fully shake that feeling, he's at least relaxing and having a bit of fun doing it. Like his dad, Martin has a reputation as a `musician's musician'. He hosts a pretty sporadic podcast Dive For Your Memory, where he has fast and loose chats with musicians while doing a deep dive into their musical inspirations and canon. He and his fiancé Lauren also make wine under the label El'More Wines, named after the farm and small town where his dad grew up. It's all come a bit full circle, really.

Black Duck captures a band already deeply in tune with one another. The three-piece super-group consists of Douglas McCombs, Charles Rumback, and Bill MacKay each has a distinct musical voice that is instantly recognizable, yet blends seamlessly with one another-their time performing together, playing to the moment and reading each other and the spaces they"re in formed a fluency between the trio which allows them to follow each other down winding paths and short tangents alike. McCombs is a founding member of Tortoise, Pullman, and Brokeback and the long-standing bassist for Eleventh Dream Day, an artist whose contribution to the music world can not be overstated. MacKay began releasing records in the early 2000s. He has released several acclaimed solo albums with Drag City as well as a duo album each with Nathan Bowles (Banjo, Black Twig Pickers), and Katinka Kleijn (Cello, Chicago Symphony Orchestra (CSO)), and two beloved records with Ryley Walker. Rumback burst onto the fertile Chicago improvised music scene in the early 2000"s. His fluid technique and expressive playing garnered him much attention. In addition to his solo releases, Rumback has recorded with Ryley Walker, jazz greats such as Jim Baker, James Singleton, and Greg Ward. Black Duck"s debut is a testament to that fluency, an expedition led by three veterans into alluring worlds bathed in myriad splendors. Black Duck is a gallery of sonic tapestries, unbound by any genre constraints. Black Duck redefines what two guitarists and a drummer can do, pieces move from breezy shuffles to stormy blues rumbles to gorgeous textural drones. Playing entirely improvised live sets for years helped develop the trio"s acute senses for one another, knowing precisely how to listen to the others and bolster whatever direction they move in. In the short time the trio have played together, they have performed at Big Ears Festival and alongside acts like Yo La Tengo.

180g double LPs, 45 RPM. Hot off the back of this year's critically-acclaimed new album 'New York City', Brooklyn punk institution The Men are back already with a Fuzz Club Session album due out digitally and on limited double LP vinyl June 23rd. Recorded live to tape at Brooklyn's Serious Business Studio by Travis Harrison, the live session sees the Men storm through three tracks from 'New York City', one from 'Devil Music', a cover of English punk band Blitz and nine-brand new tracks that have never seen the light of the day until now, ranging from blistering noise-rock and cathartic rock'n'roll to lo-fi country-rock and hypnotising drones. This is the 20th release in the Fuzz Club Session series from London-based label Fuzz Club, which has previously hosted the likes of A Place To Bury Strangers, Night Beats, Holy Wave, The Entrance Band and more.

Mike Parker lands his third chapter in The Devil's Curators series on Spazio Disponibile. Impressively warping time and tempo's with five iconic cuts of his deep mind trips.

From down tempo acid riffs to shuffling dnb, hysteric drones and his trademark metal kick drums, it's another package showing true style isn't bound to one genre.

An extraordinary exploration of pure vocal power and sensual expression, The Zen Kiss is a highly personal vision of a woman working on the boundaries of convention.
credits
released May 3, 1994

Produced by Steve Coe. Mixed at Real World Studios, Wiltshire, England, November 1993. Mixing engineer Stuart Bruce. Assistant mixing engineer James Cadsky. Recorded at the Coachhouse, Clifton, Bristol. Recorded by Andy Allen and Rik Dowding in the two weeks around the Neptune/ Uranus conjuction of October 1993.

Mastered by Ian Cooper at Metropolis, London.

All drones played or sung by Steve Coe and Sheila Chandra.
All songs written and arranged by Steve Coe and Sheila Chandra except ‘En Mireal del Penal’ by Arroyo/Benito.

Art Direction by Michael Coulson, Real World. Designed by Tony Stiles, Real World. Design Consultation Assorted Images. Series identity Garry Mouat. Photography by Sheila Rock.

Interview by Martha Ladly and Tatiana Spencer.

The next chapter of the Natural Information Society is here. Since Time Is Gravity, credited to Natural Information Society Community Ensemble with Ari Brown, presents a newly expanded manifestation of acclaimed composer & multi-instrumentalist Joshua Abrams nearly 15 year, 7 albums &-counting flagship ensemble. Joining the core NIS of Abrams (guimbri & bass), Lisa Alvarado (harmonium) Mikel Patrick Avery (drums) & Jason Stein (bass clarinet) are Hamid Drake (percussion), Josh Berman & Ben Lamar Gay (cornets), Nick Mazzarella & Mai Sugimoto (alto saxophones & flute), Kara Bershad (harp) & Chicago living legend of the tenor saxophone Ari Brown. Recorded live to tape at Electrical Audio & The Graham Foundation, cover painting Vibratory Cartography: Nepantla, by Lisa Alvarado. 2xLP on Eremite USA, 2xLP & CD on Aguirre/Eremite Europe. Out 14-04.

Since first developing Natural Information Society in 2010, Joshua Abrams has been gradually expanding the group’s conceptual underpinnings, its musical references & the sheer number of the group’s members. Its music is, in a sense, an expansive form of minimalism, based in repeated & overlaid rhythmic patterns, ostinatos & modality. Its roots, its scale & its meaning become clearer in time. If time is gravity, it also allows us to carry more. Having begun as fundamentally a rhythm section with Abrams’ guimbri at its core, the version here can stretch to a tentet, including six horns.

Abrams has been expanding his minimalism gradually, but he has long understood a key to minimalism’s potential: the breadth of its roots in the late 1950s & early 1960s, ranging from the dissatisfaction of young European-stream composers with the limitations of serialism to the simultaneous dissatisfaction of jazz musicians with the dense harmonic vocabulary of bop & hard bop. The former began exploring rhythmic complexity & narrow tonal palates in place of harmonic abstraction (Steve Reich’s Drumming, Philip Glass’ Music with Changing Parts; perhaps above all Terry Riley’s In C & his late ‘60s all-night organ & loop concerts); the later reduced dense chord changes to scales (signally with Miles Davis' Kind of Blue, but rapidly expanding with John Coltrane’s vast project). In the 1950s the LP record opened the world with documentation of Asian & African musics, key influences on both minimalists & jazz musicians. If John Coltrane’s soprano saxophone suggested the keening shehnai of Bismillah Khan, the instrument was rapidly taken up by two key minimalists, LaMonte Young & Riley, similarly appreciative of its flexible intonation, the same thing that kept it out of big bands.

If the guimbri, the North African hide-covered lute that Abrams plays with NIS, involves a rich tradition of hypnotic healing music associated with the Gnawa people, Abrams’ music also touches on other musics as well — other depths, memories & healings, different drones, rhythms & modes. As the group expands on Since Time Is Gravity, he has made certain jazz traditions in the same stream more explicit as well. If there is a mystical & elastic quality involved in the experience of time, both in direction & duration, you will catch it here. The parts for the choir of winds expand on the roles of Abrams’ guimbri, Mikel Patrick Avery & Hamid Drake’s percussion & Lisa Alvarado’s harmonium: at times, the winds are almost looping in the tentet version, each hitting a repeating note in turn, at once drone & distinct inflection on temporal sequence. The brilliance of the work resides in Abrams’ compositions, the NIS’ intuitive execution & in Ari Brown’s singular embodiment of the great tenor saxophone tradition, including the oracular genius of Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis, & Yusef Lateef. The three pieces by the expanded NIS featuring Brown —the opening “Moontide Chorus” & “Is” & the ultimate “Gravity”— have an immediate impact, & togther might be considered a kind of concerto for tenor saxophone. Here Brown presses almost indistinguishably from composed melody to improvised speech, getting so close to language that he might have a text. Everything here is a sign. Note the tap of the Rhythm Ace that links “Moontide Chorus” to “Is”, the attentive heart always present, even when signed by a machine. There’s a link here to the methodologies & meanings of dub music & the linear & vertical collage of beats, textures & tongues: treated with reverence, a sample of a beat-box can be as soulful, as hypnotic, as a mbira or a tamboura. If those pieces with Brown are heard as a suspended concerto, the three embrace & enfold the other works, like the sepals of a flower. That placement will also touch on the mysteries of our perception of time.

Particularly in “Is”, but elsewhere as well, a phenomenon of transcendence arises in which time appears to be tripartite, at once moving backwards & forwards & standing still. This is an act of technical brilliance certainly, but also an illumination of music’s ability to represent temporal consciousness through polymetrics. This particular listener has only heard it before in a few places, including the horn shouts & bowed basses of Coltrane’s Africa, in moments of Charles Mingus’ The Black Saint & the Sinner Lady, in certain pieces where tapes were literally running backwards, & earlier still in Dizzy Gillespie’s Cubana Be, Cubana Bop, in which the composer George Russell & conguero Chano Pozo found a music that spoke at once in the voices of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring & the vestigial rites, rhythms & songs of the Yoruba language & Santeria religion of inland Cuba.

In Joshua Abrams’ compositions & the realization of them by the NIS, in the time of one’s close listening & memory thereof, distinctions between the “natural” & the “social”, the “quotidian” & the “transcendent” are erased, suspended or perhaps irrelevant. Consider two of the ensemble pieces, one named for nature, the other social science. In “Murmuration” the repeated wind figures of flute & alto saxophone combine with the interlocking patterns of harp, guimbri & frame drum (tar) to create a perfect moving stillness, not an imitation but a witness to the miracle of the starlings’ astonishing collective art, a surfeit of beauty that might be the ultimate defense tactic.

“Stigmergy” takes its name & concept from the Occupy movement’s Heather Marsh, who proposes a social system based on a cooperative rather than competitive models, one in which ideas are freely contributed & developed as ideas rather than an individual’s property. In its form, Abrams’ “Stigmergy” is the closes thing to traditional jazz, a series of accompanied solos by each of the wind players. However, the composed accompaniment is a radically collectivist notion: a repeated rhythmic figure, call it ostinato or riff, in which the different winds each play only a note or two of the figure, a concept both more collectivist & individualistic in its conception than any typical unison figure. It suggests another of the underlying recognitions that propel the Natural Information Society, the group as social organism, the teleology of hypnotic anarchy, all parts in place, functioning systematically, evolving & expressing itself, its nature & society, as a transformative organism.

George Lewis has described music as “a space for reflection on the human condition”. This suggests that, rather than a “distraction”, at least some music might serve as a distraction from distraction. It’s a focus, a clarity, a awareness, an external invitation to interiority, as if music itself is a model for form & contemplation, an organism contemplating for us or as us. If that is a possibility, & I am sure I have heard such musics, than this music is among them. How many of our rhythms, melodies & harmonies (cultural, historical, biological, psychic) might such music carry, translate & transform in the particulate ecstasy of our own murmuration? (Stuart Broomer, April 2022)

Kusōzu : Nine Death Stages is the second album by the Tokyo trio Archeus, which consists of Keiko Higuchi (voice, percussion, trombone, shamisen), Shizuo Uchida (bass strings), and TOMO (hurdy gurdy, voice). It follows their debut, self-titled and self-released CD and cassette from 2021 and is further proof – if any were needed – that these musicians, who’ve known each other for some time, but only started playing together relatively recently, share a telepathic communication, improvising together, fully in the moment, and as one. Where their debut album featured four extended improvisations, Kusōzu is an object lesson in economy and clarity – nine tracks, thirty-three minutes, everything that needs be said and nothing more.

All three musicians are incredibly active in the Japanese underground. Higuchi currently plays with Sachiko in Albedo Fantastica, adding Uchida for Albedo Gravitas; Uchida and Higuchi team up with Masami Kawaguchi (guitar) in vDBG. She’s also recorded with improvisers such as Naoto Yamagishi, Yasumune Morishige, and Shin-Ichiro Kanda. Uchida is also a member of MAI MAO, Kito-Mizukumi Rouber, Hasegawa-Shizuo, UH, and TERROR SHIT, and he’s recently recorded with improvising guitarist Takashi Masubuchi; TOMO has previously been a member of Tetragrammaton and Pouring High Water, and has recently performed live with Mick of Kousokuya, Mitsuru Tabata, Keiji Haino, and Daisuke Takaoka.

While Higuchi and Uchida have been making music together for some time now, they appear careful not to impose their previously articulated lexicon to bear on Archeus. There are trace elements of their playerly voices still present – the stretchy, plastic scrabbling on bass strings from Uchida; Higuchi’s murmurations of tone, and sudden plunges back down to earth, vertiginous and woozy – but there are other things going on here, particularly with TOMO joining in the action. His hurdy gurdy is a wild card in a group of wild cards, here cranking out burred, purring drones, there fidgeting through floods of notes, cranked up really high, ducking and weaving between Higuchi and Uchida as the three pursue the eternal now that is core to the best improvised music.

Archeus seem to work alchemically, transmuting their base matter into gold. Named after the Buddhist art practice of kusōzu, the graphic painting of nine stages of a decaying corpse in the open air, “to demonstrate the effects of impermanence,” as scholar Gail Chin once wrote.

Kusōzu : Nine Death Stages is Archeus at their most rigorously attentive to each other’s playing, and by the end, the music is itself thinking and feeling.

Timo Kaukolampi, frontman for Finnish electronic rock group K-X-P and tireless sonic wanderer, is releasing his second solo album, this time on Optimo Music. Exquisitely rendered, shadowy, curiously claustrophobic and even occasionally paranoid, Inside The Sphere is an album wholly deserving of its name.

A sense of paranoia is one of the threads through this glittering, winking electronic maze. Kaukolampi says “I came up with this metaphysical concept of the “sphere”. When you are manipulated you are ‘Inside The Sphere’. It’s like this dome of ‘undue influence’ that you don’t know exists around you. It’s a bit like the inside of a cult.”

Indeed, it’s amazing the effects achieved with a few sparse electronic textures, the odd smattering of studio trickery, and two or three well-placed synthesizer parts. Though the result might sound ostensibly simplistic, Inside The Sphere is an album of reduction rather than addition. The rhythmic and textural scaffolding is based around what’s not there, rather than what is. Take ‘VCS3’. At first listen, it seems forged from a few synth lines and a simple percussion part – so far, so simple. But listen closer, enter the sphere, look behind the mask – notice the slightly detuned drones, the chattering percussive textures, that distant swell of bass, the way the central fugue shifts and mutates somehow statically, like a barber’s pole.

Might we be listening to an album within an album, a more complex song cycle hiding within the folds of an ambient electronic album? This ties in with another of Kaukolampi’s thematic frameworks – that of the mask. He references Oscar Wilde’s quotation that “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”

Inside The Sphere is not a one-note album. For every moment where a clammy ambient space enters, a buttery analogue bassline is there to fill it. This clash seems to be the album’s engine room, its power supply.

Timo references devotional and choir music as an influence on this album. The paranoia and foreboding is tempered by these headier aspects. Kaukolampi mentions “empty and hollow spaces” in relation to several of the songs. Perhaps this is the very space behind the mask, where outward disguise merges with inner reality. Perhaps inside the sphere is not always such a bad place to be.

"As long as you come to my garden", the sixth release in the cherished Die Schachtel’s series “Decay Music” as well as the debut of the duo Damāvand (Gianluca Ceccarini and Alessandro CIccarelli) on the prestigious Italian label, is a tribute to the Armenian troubadour Sayat Nova, through his lyrics and freely inspired by the cult movie about his life The Color of the Pomegranates (Nřan guynə, 1968, USSR) directed by Sergei Parajanov. The feature film tells the life of the poet, who lived in the 17th Century, from childhood in the royal court, to retirement until his death in the monastery of Haghpat, through a series of episodes, static like paintings that do not tell but show, evoke, they suggest through metaphors, analogies, surrealist flair, dreamlike landscapes, liturgical pauses.

The six tracks are inspired by the dreamlike imagery contained in the movie, weaving sound textures ranging from ambient to noise, to references to the musical tradition of the Middle East.

Gianluca Ceccarini and Alessandro Ciccarelli alternate, without fixed roles, with analog synths, drones, amplified common objects, generative music, audio samples from the film and acoustic instruments such as the tar - a stringed instrument of Persian origin, the trombone and the cornet. In addition, two of the songs on the album contain Sayat Nova’s poems recited in Persian by Nahid Rezashateri.

The sound materials are revealed gradually like episodes, evoking the visual suggestions staged by Parajanov in the movie. As long as you come to my garden is intended as an imaginative journey to distant spaces and indefinite archaic times.

DAMĀVAND is a musical project by Gianluca Ceccarini (electronics, electroacoustic objects, tar) and Alessandro Ciccarelli (electronics, electroacoustic objects, trombone, cornet)

Gianluca Ceccarini, guitarist, electroacoustic experimenter, luthier specialized in the restoration and construction of plucked musical instruments for early music. In 2021 his first album Starving Night was released for the netlabel Laverna and in 2022 the Sarab Label published a CD version. He also works in photographic research, video-art, graphics and independent publishing with the Sarab collective.

Alessandro Ciccarelli is an author who ranges between different languages: photography, video, sound. He is involved in several collective research projects in the musical and theatrical fields. His solo records are released under the nom de plume Elnath Project. The latest work, after six years of silence, from Italian berlin-based composer, performer and publisher (Black Letter Press) Claudio Rocchetti, and a welcomed return on the Die Schachtel imprint after the brilliant Another Piece of teenage wildlife (2008), Labirinto verticale (Vertical Maze) takes its origin from the four years long collaboration of Rocchetti with the Parma-based Fondazione Lenz, a contemporary theatre research collective/organization.

***BACK IN PRINT ON RED VINYL!!! Lice-All, from 1992, previously known as self-titled, and also previously known as something else we’re all not gonna talk about, thank you very much. This was the Melvins last release before signing their Atlantic deal, and features the introduction of new bass player Joe Preston (previously of Earth, currently of Thrones). It’s one long, slow, loud blob of drones, moans and fuzztones. The opening endless power chord shimmer influenced Sleep, Sunn O))), and countless other sludge metal drone freaks for years to come.

Tim Brown and Donna McKean's legendary lost album "Evolver" is lost no
more! Out for the first time on vinyl, sparklingly remastered with bonus
session tracks, this Twentieth Anniversary edition of a psychedelic
masterpiece fills a crucial hole in the Lunchbox oeuvre
Recorded in the couple's 1990s Oakland basement between stays in Berlin, tour
dates in London, and dreamy sojourns up the rugged Mendocino coastline,
"Evolver" fuses jangle and jungle, ambient and dub into a striking pop statement.
Marrying refined songcraft to the serendipitous magic hidden in half-broken reelto- reel tape decks and vintage synthesizers, the LP plants its pop flag on the
terrain of magic and mystery. Dreamy jangle pop gems emerge seamlessly out of
a sea of loops, drones, and dubbed- out horn fanfares, cascades of tape echo
feedback and whispers from outer space providing a trance-inducing backdrop to
the pop sensibility for which Lunchbox is well- known. Hook- filled and hypnotic,
"Evolver" is a sublime slice of post-pop psychedelia that you won't want to miss.

‘Where is Agartha? What is the specific region in which it lies? Along what road, through what civilizations, must one walk in order to reach it?.’ Saint-Yves d’Alveydre in 1886

Agartha, the debut full-length album by Japanese producer Wata Igarashi, is a mysterious, divine thing. Named for the mythical secret kingdom, understood as a complex maze of underground tunnels, perhaps designed by Martians who colonised the Earth tens of thousands of years ago, it’s a similarly mystical, perhaps even cosmic trip – but this time, exploring an inner, deeply personal cosmos. Beautifully detailed and bustling with rich incident, it takes Igarashi’s music to new places, which still retaining his unique sonic imprimatur; in this respect, it’s perfectly at home with Kompakt, a label that’s always encouraged artists to make the visionary music they need to create, to take risks and make sideways steps into uncharted territory.

An eloquent producer and DJ, Igarashi has been releasing techno for eleven years now, appearing on such imprints as The Bunker NY, Delsin, Midgar, and Time To Express; he has also self-released his productions via his WIP net label. Throughout, Igarashi has consistently explored his unique approach to techno and electronic music, one that’s eloquent and poised, even when it shifts into more psychedelic terrain; he’s a master at balancing the sensual and the functional, and he has an unerring ear for the right texture, the right tone, at the right time. He brings all of this into Agartha, his most thorough-going expression of self to date.

For Agartha, Igarashi had a strong concept he wanted to explore. Visualising specific scenes from an imaginary film based on the titular secret kingdom, he created soundtracks for those scenes, spending time during the pandemic in his studio, working away carefully at the ten tracks here. Given his background in creating music for television and advertisements, Igarashi is well-placed to explore the marriage of the sonic and the visual in such intimate ways, but freed from commercial concerns, he let his imagination run riot. He also drew on a rich palette of musical influences – techno is in there, of course, but you can also hear the smoky, improvised jazz of the likes of Miles Davis (to whom the album’s title is an indirect nod), and the minimalism and systems music of Steve Reich.

The latter is particularly pronounced on the gorgeous, beatless drift of “Floating Against Time”, where an arpeggiated sequence lingers, lovingly, around your ears for nine blissful minutes, coasting across swooning drones and waves of ambient noise. “Ceremony Of The Dead”, originally composed as part of a Sony 360 Reality Audio spatial sound concert, is a deep pass into systems composition, with various patterns overlaid and interlocking, before a wordless vocal rises from the depths, a gorgeous counterpoint to the swarming textures that gather across the track. On the other hand, tracks like “Burning” and “Subterranean Life” nudge toward Fourth World territory, painting deluxe dreamscapes of uncertain provenance; the title cut is an abstract drift-world, Igarashi painting an alien tableau dotted by shape-shifting creatures.

Agartha’s conceptual framework means that everything on the album sits perfectly together; listening to it in one sitting is a dizzying, lush experience. Its imaginings of inner landscapes recall, in some respects, the nautical, aqueous mythologies of the Drexciyan universe, though from different perspectives. But the result is Igarashi’s own creation, a deluxe, enchanting trip through the visionary Agartha of this unique producer’s cinematic mind’s-eye.

Wo liegt Agartha? In welcher spezifischen Region liegt es? Auf welchem Weg, durch welche Zivilisationen muss man gehen, um dorthin zu gelangen?'

Saint-Yves d'Alveydre im Jahr 1886

Agartha, das Debütalbum des japanischen Produzenten Wata Igarashi, ist ein geheimnisvolles, göttliches Ding. Benannt nach dem mythischen, geheimen Königreich, das als ein komplexes Labyrinth unterirdischer Tunnel verstanden wird, die vielleicht von Marsmenschen angelegt wurden, die vor Zehntausenden von Jahren die Erde kolonisierten, ist es eine ähnlich mystische, vielleicht sogar kosmische Reise - aber dieses Mal erforscht es einen inneren, zutiefst persönlichen Kosmos. Wunderschön detailliert und voller reichhaltiger Begebenheiten, führt es Igarashis Musik an neue Orte, die dennoch seine einzigartige klangliche Handschrift bewahren. In dieser Hinsicht hat es bei Kompakt ein perfektes Zuhause gefunden - einem Label, das Künstler immer ermutigt hat, jene visionäre Musik zu machen, Risiken einzugehen und seitwärts Schritte in unbekanntes Terrain zu tun.

Der eloquente Produzent und DJ Igarashi veröffentlicht seit elf Jahren Techno auf Labels wie The Bunker NY, Delsin, Figure und Time To Express; außerdem hat er einige Produktionen über sein Label WIP net selbst veröffentlicht. Dabei hat Igarashi stets seinen einzigartigen Ansatz für Techno und elektronische Musik verfolgt, der kontrolliert und ausgeglichen ist, selbst wenn er sich in psychedelisches Terrain begibt; er ist ein Meister der Balance zwischen dem Sinnlichen und dem Funktionalen und hat ein untrügliches Gespür für die richtige Textur, den richtigen Ton zur richtigen Zeit. All das bringt er in Agartha ein, dem bisher umfangreichsten Ausdruck seiner selbst.

Für Agartha hatte Igarashi ein starkes Konzept, das er erforschen wollte. Er stellte sich bestimmte Szenen eines imaginären Films vor, der auf dem titelgebenden geheimen Königreich basiert, und schuf Soundtracks für diese Szenen. Während der Pandemie verbrachte er Zeit in seinem Studio und arbeitete sorgfältig an den zehn Tracks. Mit seinem Hintergrund als Komponist von Fernseh- und Werbemusik ist Igarashi prädestiniert dafür, die Verbindung von Klang und Bild auf solch intime Weise zu erforschen, aber frei von kommerziellem Dünkel ließ er seiner Fantasie freien Lauf. Er schöpfte auch aus einer reichen Palette musikalischer Einflüsse - Techno ist natürlich dabei, aber man hört auch den rauchigen, improvisierten Jazz von Miles Davis (an den der Titel des Albums eine indirekte Anspielung ist) und den Minimalismus und die Systemmusik von Steve Reich.

Letzteres ist besonders ausgeprägt in dem wunderschönen, beatlosen "Floating Against Time", wo eine arpeggierte Sequenz neun Minuten lang liebevoll um die Ohren fliegt und über schwelende Drones und Wellen von Umgebungsgeräuschen gleitet. "Ceremony Of The Dead", ursprünglich als Teil eines Sony 360 Reality Audio-Raumklangkonzerts komponiert, ist ein tiefes Eintauchen in eine Systemkomposition, bei der sich verschiedene Muster überlagern und ineinander greifen, bevor sich ein wortloser Gesang aus der Tiefe erhebt, ein wunderschöner Kontrapunkt zu den wimmelnden Texturen, die sich über den Track legen. Andererseits bewegen sich Tracks wie "Burning" und "Subterranean Life" in Richtung der Vierten Welt und malen luxuriöse Traumlandschaften ungewisser Herkunft; der Titeltrack ist eine abstrakte Scheinwelt, in der Igarashi ein außerirdisches Tableau malt, das von formwandelnden Kreaturen übersät ist.

Der konzeptionelle Rahmen von Agartha ermöglicht, dass alles auf dem Album perfekt zusammenpasst; es in einem Zug durchzuhören ist eine schwindelerregende, opulente Erfahrung. Wata's Vorstellungen von inneren Landschaften erinnern in gewisser Hinsicht an die nautischen, wässrigen Mythologien des drexciyanischen Universums, wenn auch aus einer anderen Perspektiven betrachtet. Aber das Ergebnis ist Igarashis ureigene Schöpfung, ein luxuriöser, bezaubernder Trip durch das visionäre Agartha dieses einzigartigen Produzenten mit seinem cineastischen Blick.

After the success of their first full length album Midnight Ensemble, it's now time for a massive remixpack divided in 2 EP's; Part 1 followed by Part 2 (which will be follow soon after this).

The Dynamic duo asked some of their close friends, label residents and inspirators to rework all of the tracks taken from the original album.

On Part 1 you will find remixes from DJ Nobu, Rrose, Jeroen Search on the 12" added by 2 Digital Bonus tracks bij Pyramidal Decode and Hitam.

Expect a diverse range of techno cuts and ambient drones as you are used to
from Dynamic Reflection.

Power, Pain, Privilege is Specimens fourth album & most personal work to date, it follows up on his collaboration album ‘Intersections’ with Peter Broderick, Benoît Pioulard, Midori Hirano & Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch.

Power, Pain, Privilege is a commissioned piece by London’s Southbank Centre and is an abstract sonic exploration of biracial identity, in its historicity as well as through the lens of Ives’ own personal experience of being British-Jamaican. The album is a departure from his largely ambient work and explores haunted and twisted dancehall rhythms, industrial drones, and spoken word pieces that track a course through painful incidents of imposter syndrome, shame, privilege & racism.

The album opens with a computerised robotic voice reading excerpts of the 1930s Fletcher Report: “an Investigation into the Colour Problem in Liverpool and other ports” a report which heavily stigmatises children and mixed heritage families of African and European origin. It could be deemed the official outset in defining Liverpool's ‘half castes’ as a problem and blight to the “British way of life”. Ives’ states “this track sets the tone to the album, the cold analytical and dehumanising approach to reports like this, whilst over 80 years old set the standard for viewing biracial families and to have used a Human voice to recite these pieces of text would have been to give it too much life”

The album is accompanied by a film directed by the photographer & director Lucie Rox which was live scored at The Southbank Centre in London and in Paris at 3537.