Search:the drones

Formed in Taipei in 2013, Scattered Purgatory (破地獄) has occupied a liminal space between drone, ambient, psychedelic folk and ritualistic kosmiche experimentation. Their early work, including ‘Lost Ethnography of the Miscanthus Ocean’ (2014) and ‘God of Silver Grass’ (2016), blended dense instrumental drones, improvisational guitar, and ambient textures rooted in the heat, humidity, and urban pulse of Taiwan. Over the years, the duo-turned-band has drawn on Krautrock, minimalist electronic music, and heavy drone traditions while remaining firmly grounded in Taiwanese geography and culture.

‘Post Purgatory’ emerges after a three-year hiatus following the pandemic, a period the band describes as pivotal to the album’s conception. “The feeling of loss and uncertainty has later become the inspiration of this record, and ‘time’ is the main theme – it can heal or it can destroy,” they explain. Musically and lyrically, the record traverses Taiwanese, traditional Chinese, and English, reflecting the multilingual fabric of Taipei life. While there isn’t a linear storyline, metaphor and poetry imbue the lyrics with reflections on love, loss, and the human experience, interlaced with influences of Hokkien and Mando pop and traces of trip-hop.

Recorded half in their home and half at the studio where they composed their first album, ‘Post Purgatory' integrates precision, clarity, and digital production techniques. Guest contributions—from White Wu’s dynamic drumming to Minyen Hsieh’s tenor saxophone and dotzio’s sci-fi-infused vocals—expand the band’s sonic palette, creating a doom metal record shaped by electronic sensibilities.

‘Post Purgatory’ is a statement of loss and re-empowerment, a bridge between their past and present. Through it, Scattered Purgatory reclaim their distinctive voice, presenting a sound that is at once rooted in Taiwan, informed by global musical traditions, and unflinchingly forward-looking.
credits

With their third album, Inanimate Objects of the 21st Century, Newcastle’s The Pale White prove once again that there’s no slowing them down. Following the success of their introspective sophomore album The Big Sad, brothers Adam (vocals/guitar) and Jack Hope (drums) return louder, sharper, and more defiant than ever. This third full-length is their most expansive yet: a record that blends the anthemic punch of classic rock with the urgency and edge of modern alternative.The title, Inanimate Objects of the 21st Century, is a nudge to the uncomfortable irony of our time – as technology accelerates, humanity feels increasingly frozen in place. Lead singer Adam Hope says: “Technology is moving, but we are not. Human civilization entered the 21st century wide-eyed and naive with mobile phones that would barely fit in our pockets. Fast forward a few decades and we’re so far from where we were that it almost looks like a bad 80’s sci-fi movie. Back then, that film would be watched in packed-out cinemas after an eagerly anticipated release, but now they stand emptier than they once were, attended mainly as a nostalgic experience in the age of Netflix and doomscrolling.

The birth of AI, algorithms, cryptocurrency, drones, holographic concerts, autonomous cars… we’re living in a strange transitional period which is both fascinating and terrifying in equal measure. We humans have now in fact become the inanimate objects - mannequins.After our softer, melancholic second album ‘The Big Sad’, we felt it was only right to move as fast as our world is moving and release our next within the year. ‘Inanimate Objects of the 21st Century’ is the evil twin, the Yin to The Big Sad’s Yang.”

MTY-3.14 “π”, released on March 14, 2026, is the fifth and final chapter of a journey begun fifteen years ago.



This standard edition presents the final form of Polar Inertia across three 12" vinyl records, featuring 11 tracks. Nothing added, nothing removed—only the music, unfolding in full.



Images dissolve, words fall away. What remains are faint echoes, like footprints slowly erased in fresh snow.



This final opus does not close the path. It fades into it. π is not an ending, but a state: the moment where movement continues, even as the world turns silent.



A last step.
A final trace.
Still moving, beneath the cold.



POLAR INERTIA



We are no one because we want to be no one,
And to be no one we have to be everywhere and nowhere- Polar Inertia examines the enigmatic and blurry realms, embracing the art of obscured vision.


Encountering the collective Polar Inertia is much like being absorbed by fog and captivated by its ever-shifting forms and densities, with things being as indistinguishable as in a whiteout.



Formed in 2010 by a group of artists, Polar Inertia transcends visibility, delving into structures that lie beyond the public gaze. Layers upon layers intertwine within the fabric of Polar Inertia, extending beyond their profound electronic compositions and live performances. It manifests as a conceptual universe, where sound, monochrome aesthetics, and elusive narratives converge, much like trying to grasp the intangible fog. The entity that is Polar Inertia is involved in installations, print- and video work and texts created for different contexts and live in different spheres such as Palais de Tokyo in Paris or the Lyon Biennale of Contemporary Art. Still, clubs and festivals are perfect spaces to experience these nebulous soundworlds and immerse in them. Fittingly, some of Polar Inertia’s appearances include the colossal halls of Berghain and Bassiani and at experimental festivals like Mutek Montreal and Atonal Berlin, that like to break with the classic club conventions.



Polar Inertia's sonic landscape unfolds with wafting textures accompanied by resonating beats and drones, reverberating through empty spaces, merging with the vast expanse of nothingness. Their sound exists at the crossroads of ambient, experimental, and deep techno, interwoven with vocal narratives. Since their inaugural release “Indirect Light“ on Dement3d Records in 2011, they remain a stronghold of relevance and captivation in the electronic domain.



Mastered by sixbitdeep, with artistic direction by Diplomatie Studio.

The first resonant space Zosha Warpeha played in was the Emanuel Vigeland Museum in Oslo, Norway. Built as a mausoleum, its walls reach up into a gradual archway, creating an environment where sound expands and reverberates for twelve seconds before decaying into silence. Warpeha was greeted only by dim lights when she entered, and it wasn’t until she had spent several minutes listening that she was able to make out the frescoes that covered every inch of the room: graphic depictions of the cycle of life from conception through death. As the sound of her Hardanger d’amore encountered the walls and these slowly emerging scenes, they obscured its point of origin in both time and space, augmenting its own life cycle. The experience sat in the back of her mind over the next several years as she developed her own patient style of composition and performance, one that comes into full bloom on her new album I grow accustomed to the dark.

When Warpeha was selected as an artist in residence at Brooklyn’s ISSUE Project Room in 2025, she saw it as an opportunity to more intentionally explore how her music might fill a room with ample natural reverb. I grow accustomed to the dark documents two single-take solo performances for Hardanger d’amore and voice at IPR, with both pieces composed in a unique tuning system developed to interact with the space itself. Listeners can trace resonance from the contact of the bow on gut strings into the body of the instrument, its five sympathetic strings offering another layer of refraction, before the sound is thrown about the cavity of the room. The echoes emerge like a photographic double exposure, or wisps of smoke that linger in the air, creating ghostly harmonic convergences that blur the line between what is there and not-there. Sound begins to act like light, a synesthetic alchemy that transforms drones into beams and ornamental trills into flickers.

Both side-long compositions, “filament” and “visual purple,” exemplify a duality that animates Warpeha’s music: an expressive, individualistic style that draws on extensive knowledge of her instrument’s history in folk traditions, and an austere, devotional quality maintained by focus and precision. Though very different in character and structure, both pieces evolve slowly through numerous repetitive phrases, passages of stillness, and bursts of intensity. “filament” opens with a cycle of delicate melodic fragments played and sung around a drone before blossoming into an outpouring of swooping arpeggios, harmonics flying from the strings like sparks off a bonfire. The disorienting pulsation of harmonic beating forms the core of “visual purple,” the close-tone dissonance building to a swarm of open strings ringing boldly throughout the space. After the knotty tones reach their climax, the piece collapses into studied quietude, hushed, but without any drop in intensity.

When Warpeha first visited the Vigeland Museum in 2019, she was in Oslo to deepen her relationship to the Hardanger fiddle through the study of Norwegian traditional music, which is primarily passed down aurally. The experience of learning songs by ear, not only internalizing the tune but also absorbing the techniques and tonalities by listening, was a crucial step in her development as a composer. The years since have seen her sharpen those skills as a prolific member of the New York avant-garde and improvised music communities. Warpeha’s music encourages listeners to join her in this journey, to listen closely with each repeated phrase and through each dramatic shift. Like the frescoes on Vigeland’s walls, with time and intention, the depth of I grow accustomed to the dark comes on like a revelation.

Devotional music most often gets distilled into earthy chants and ancient folklore, it doesn't always ascend to the sky like Julinko’s ‘Naebula’ an album that from the first organ note clearly trades in terrestrial dreams for ethereal visions. A feverish quality permeates the whole record, as if a ritualistic performance was being captured from start to finish, a collection of hallucinatory doom, synthetic neo-folk hymns and ghostly art-rock.

Julinko, stage name for Giulia Parin Zecchin, has long been one of the best kept secrets of the experimental community in North-East Italy, with three records that helped define her unique blend of heavy psychedelia, slowcore and dark ambient. On ‘Naebula’ what really stands out is how powerful and soaring her voice is, a weapon of undeniable force that can transform into a vessel of raw fervour or glide effortlessly as a delicate lament. Her unconventional approach shines through on tracks like ‘Jeanne De Rien’, where a marching pulse acts as a pillar for an extended mantra, almost verging into powwow territory. ‘Peace Of The Unsaid’ uses its arrhythmical structure to create space, a crepuscular night ode that reaches the heights of Sinead O’Connor’s most intimate force-fulness while retaining a sweet composure. Whether it’s glacial murderous shrieks or gospel-esque vitality, songs like ‘Cloudmachine’ or ‘Kiss The Lion’s Tongue’ seem to draw as much from a tradition of European minimalism, the use of drones and repetition, to the tradition of folksongs as hymns, where modal harmonies make way for an apparent stasis. Another key element in Julinko’s songwriting is the seamless blend of her minimalistic approach with these dense textures borrowed from a distant outsider metal heritage, Lynchean noir on steroids or wordless exorcisms with deep undercurrents.

Ten years after their last collaboration, Jacques Duvall and Benjamin Schoos return with Plein Sommeil, a duo album that is at once melancholic, ironic, and tender—a poetic mirror of the fatigue of the modern world.

The legendary lyricist for Lio, Chamfort, and Daho meets the indie pop producer and sonic adventurer of Freaksville, in a generational union as improbable as it is natural.
Between Brussels and Paris, they weave songs about slowness, worn-out love, and resistance through gentleness.

Blending original compositions and delicate covers (The Kinks, Higelin, Daho), the album evokes a sensual and lucid refuge amid the overheating of everyday life.
Recorded with Bertrand Burgalat, The Loved Drones, and lush string arrangements, Plein Sommeil embraces a handcrafted, timeless aesthetic.

Its motto: “Slow business” — a manifesto against the speed and emptiness of contemporary times.

Each song, balancing irony and elegance, celebrates fragility and humanity.

Für Chantal Michelle ist das Komponieren von Musik wie eine Art Choreografie. In surrealen Klangwelten verbinden sich verschiedene Töne miteinander - sie bewegen sich zusammen und entfernen sich dann wieder voneinander - in einem Prozess, der sich ständig im Hörfeld wiederholt. Diese sich ständig verändernde Konstellation zeigt, wie zerbrechlich und veränderlich Wahrnehmung sein kann, ein Thema, das in Michelles Arbeit immer wieder auftaucht. Michelle, die schon früh eine Tanzausbildung absolvierte, bringt eine ausgeprägte räumliche Sensibilität in ihre Arbeit ein: ein intuitives Verständnis dafür, wie Formen koexistieren und sich durch drei Dimensionen bewegen, sowie eine Wertschätzung für die Schönheit, die sich in ungewöhnlichen Gegenüberstellungen von Materialien und Ideen findet. Seit sie 2021 ihre Solokarriere gestartet hat, hat sie internationale Anerkennung für ihre geduldigen, akribischen Aufnahmen bekommen, die oft zusammen mit Installationen, Mehrkanalkompositionen und Klangskulpturen entstehen. Innerhalb dieser subtil verwirrenden Klangarchitekturen können neue Beziehungen entstehen, neue Grenzen gezogen werden, und die Zuhörer werden zu einer Erfahrung von Zeit eingeladen, die sich der Linearität widersetzt. All Things Might Spill, Michelles erstes Album für Shelter Press, ist eine Auseinandersetzung mit anhaltender Spannung und der mysteriösen Erfahrung der Zeitdehnung in den Momenten kurz vor einem Bruch oder Zusammenbruch. Die Musik bewegt sich in einem Raum der Instabilität, und obwohl sie durchgehende Töne und definierte melodische Phrasen verwendet, herrscht eine Atmosphäre der Unentschlossenheit - wie ein Moment der Unruhe, der auf unbestimmte Zeit in der Schwebe bleibt. Ein Großteil des Albums wurde in den Wintermonaten 2024 in Berlin aufgenommen, wobei viele frühe Morgenstunden in einem Raum subtiler Unruhe verbracht wurden. Man sagt, dass Licht in die Dunkelheit eindringt, und diese Übergangszeit, die von Erwartungen geprägt ist, ist in der Musik zu hören. In ,Presence of Border" winden und verflechten sich nebulöse Stimmen, während sie über mehrdeutigen Harmonien schweben, die sich in unendliche Ferne zu erstrecken scheinen. Die beiden kurzen Stücke ,Magnetic Field I" und ,Magnetic Field II" enthalten bearbeitete Aufnahmen einer Tromba Marina, gespielt von der argentinischen Klangkünstlerin Alma Laprida. Die Gegenüberstellung von kratzigen Tönen und hauchzarten Obertönen erzeugt tamburaähnliche Drones, die den Zuhörer in einen schwer fassbaren Mittelpunkt ziehen. Später auf dem Album gibt es in ,Drying of Frozen Soils" modale Klarinettenlinien von Severin Black, die anfangs in dem nebligen, synthetischen Hintergrund fast nicht zu hören sind, bevor sie sich zu einem gespenstischen Kontrapunkt entwickeln. Eine ähnliche Struktur aus Unklarheit und Klarheit prägt den Titeltrack, in dem wortlose Gesänge eine laute Feldaufnahme durchdringen, die auf einer Fähre aufgenommen wurde, die den East River von Brooklyn nach Manhattan überquert. Das ist Musik mit einem weitläufigen Terrain und einer dichten Atmosphäre. Veränderungen sind langsam, aber dramatisch, jede Verschiebung ist sorgfältig geplant, um Gefühle des Staunens und der Vorfreude zu wecken und gleichzeitig eine erhabene Sensibilität dafür zu bewahren, wie einzelne Klänge mit der Bewegung ihrer Umgebung in Beziehung stehen. Michelle verzichtet meisterhaft auf Narrative und komponiert in drei Dimensionen. Wir bleiben mit der Mehrdeutigkeit des Wortes ,might" zurück - der anhaltenden Möglichkeit des energetischen Ansturms des Bruchs, des Ausbrechens, mal am Horizont, mal unmittelbar bevorstehend, irgendwie beides gleichzeitig.

Soft Echoes presents the first physical edition of ‘In a Few Places Along the River’ by Abul Mogard as a limited run of 500 vinyl copies. Originally released digitally in 2022, the album now appears in its intended form, marking the label’s second release.

Three long pieces, composed between 2019 and 2022, emerged from Mogard’s meticulous experimentation with analogue and digital instruments. Slowly evolving harmonic fields of layered drones and spectral textures drift across the record. They are enhanced by reverb from Scotland’s Inchindown oil tanks, which hold the longest reverberation of any man-made structure, giving the music a haunting resonance and a sense of suspended space.

‘Against a White Cloud’ and ‘In True Contemplation’ open the album with their nocturnal tones that gradually intensify into dense, immersive waves of sound. Side B is devoted to the 21-minute elegiacal piece ‘Along the River’, which flows between weight and silence, unfolding with reflective depth and moments of subtle transcendence. As one listener observed, “His music doesn't break the wilful suspension of disbelief: you stay in its trance.”

“Recording for this album began in 2019, when I was still living in London,” Mogard explains. “The first version of ‘Along the River’ was created at my studio near Brick Lane. It started with experimenting around a chord progression inspired by a classical piece I had once been recommended, though, strangely enough, I no longer recall what it was. Early in 2022, I revealed the identity behind Abul Mogard and wanted to mark this new period, so I decided to release it quickly, by myself, as digital-only.”

After returning to Rome, Mogard created the other two pieces, working with new digital instruments alongside his modular synthesiser, and integrated recordings from the London sessions. The music reveals a patient attention to texture and space, defining his usual restraint. Mogard adds, “I was trying to explore very subtle changes in the spectral characteristics of the music using extremely slow, intertwined tones.”

Described by critics as one of Mogard’s most melancholic and absorbing releases, the album maintains an austere beauty and contemplative weight, leaving a lingering impression that lasts far beyond the final note.

The music has extended beyond the album itself, with tracks appearing in films and contemporary artworks. Most notably, Swedish artist Peder Bjurman’s ‘Slow Walker’ audiovisual installation and French filmmaker Fleuryfontaine’s politically charged animated film ‘Soixante-sept millisecondes’.

Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri and cut to vinyl by Lupo, the record emphasises the clarity and depth of Mogard’s frequencies, with each layer precisely balanced. The cover artwork and design are by Marja de Sanctis, who has collaborated with Abul since his first cassette release in 2012.

Siren Selector presents the first voyage of Remy Solar, as the producer takes a break from composing sound system exclusive dubs to expand his horizons with this by-turns lush, textured, menacing and plaintive album.

‘Heavy Terrain’ emerges from the depths of a lifetime inside the dub fraternity: reared on a potent diet of Lee Scratch Perry and Augustus Pablo, The Disciples and Digital Mystikz, it’s an album which stuck its head in a bass bin in an abandoned bingo hall in north London before striking out on a musical road-trip to imbibe sounds and rhythms from further afield.

The album opens with the militant drums and ethereal pads of 'Sound in the East' before being bookended by two mixes of 'Star Trail', where unformed musical space and time cross uncharted distances to coalesce into the beginning of direction and rhythm. The lush deep house chords and drilling synths of 'Lila #3' summon ghostly presences, while in its counterpart 'Lila #7' layers of melody rise and hang like mist before dissipating in percussive heat. 'Dakhla's’ swelling and retreating drones fade into swirls of drums. In the eponymous 'Heavy Terrain', off-beat keyboard chops respond to each other from uncertain depths while electronic horns pulse across miles of open space. 'Empty City 'sees walls of sound coalesce and fragment, falling into bursts of white noise.

Remy Solar explores a deliberately constrained hardware set-up to create the primordial conditions of trance, locking down a rhythmic foundation while semi-improvised excursions form and reform above it. It’s an album that takes the listener on a journey between order and chaos, past and future, all the while underlaid by a counterpoint of cavernous bass lines and echoing percussion, yang and yin, shade and light.

Taupe’s latest album release, waxing | waning delivers jazz experimentalism, ‘skronk’, avant-rock, and electronics, by the Glasgow-based trio, due out via Minority Records. Across its seven tracks, waxing | waning captures Taupe’s approach – bold and boundary pushing – shaped by a fresh shift in the band’s dynamic and compositional approach.

Taupe’s waxing | waning, co-composed and realised by its players in a studio that was once an undertaker’s premises in Glasgow, is an absolutely affirmative album, an act of cultural defiance in desperate times.

Comprising Mike Parr-Burman (guitar, bass guitar, electronics), Jamie Stockbridge (alto and baritone saxophones) and Alex Palmer (drum kit, percussion), Taupe work up a storm of skronk, free jazz and harmolodic frenzy whose closest relations include Zu, Melt Banana and John Zorn. However, waxing | waning is from its opening, stuttering blasts, an exercise in seeking out and claiming new territory, finding unique and novel permutations in which jazz, rock, electronics interbreed at breakneck pace. Here is a group determined to say and do things they don’t get to say and do elsewhere in their musical lives.

‘Lemonade Tycoon’ hits the ground skronking. It’s cubistic jazz, cumulative in its impact, avoiding the white lines of the conventional freeway, bridling, bustling, coming at you from all angles – a three way conversation of astonishing rapidity, fast track, telepathic communication – everyone from James Chance to Albert Ayler coming at you at once, before morphing in to a spidery scrawl of electronics and furious percussion. ‘Anti-Bird-Spike BirdNest’s‘ title somehow sums up the sort of mental images evoked by the music – its sheer creative disobedience, as if being chased in vain, like a delivery rider evading capture by ICE agents -– shapeshifting, assuming different shades, sprouting metal quills and, in its midsection, seeming almost to swallow itself alive, before regurgitating itself in a sublime mess.

‘Interlude (Stride)’ is not exactly ambient, more a horizontal enmeshment of percussion, drones, reverberant noise, electronics, a sonic mulch. ‘allcapsallbold' reminds of early Aksak Maboul, in its playfulness, a haywire series of short phrases, subject to mechanical interference, a complex weave of irregular rhythms, increasingly eloquent sax phraseology and caustic guitars, which land heavier and heavier. ‘Pet Boss' is the new jazz equivalent of a highly evolved, mature conversation among brilliant equals, sharp, empathetic, complementary, rising to a collective, joyful noise. On the title track, electronics descend like a shower of bright particles, intensifying in their luminosity, whitening the skies, as sax and drums kick up a tempestuous, spontaneously sculpted noise that summons the ghosts of the great free jazz players, before a dark calm descends slowly. Finally, ‘Turn Push Kick’, a burgeoning chatterstorm of electronics, before the group kicks in, at angles to one another, led by abrasive guitars, reminiscent of Sunn O))) in their ritualistic concussion, riffing, digging deep amid squealing sax and piledriving percussion.

Der postklassische Komponist, Klangkünstler und Kurator Matthew Patton ist mit seinem zweiten Album als Those Who Walk Away zurück. "Afterlife Requiem" ist eine Elegie für seinen Freund und Kollegen Jóhann Jóhannsson. Drones, Elektroakustik und fast vollständige Stille, extrahiert aus unvollendeten Aufnahmen auf Jóhannssons Festplatten, bilden die Grundlage für zwei Streichquintette - Ghost Orchestra (Reykjavík) und Possible Orchestra (Winnipeg) -, die in einem traurigen, langatmigen Werk verarbeitet und ausgelöscht werden. Patton hat auch wieder mit Andy Rudolph (Guy Maddin) und Paul Corley (Sigur Rós, Ben Frost) an der Koproduktion und dem Sounddesign gearbeitet, um eine brodelnde Körperlichkeit zu schaffen, die brodelnde Tiefen mit eindringlichen Bewegungen gespenstischer Streicher kontrastiert. ,Alles, was ich je geschrieben habe, ist ein Requiem. Alles ist ein Ende. Der Tod ist überall in dieser Musik präsent. In meinen Werken geht es um das Verschwinden - der Gegenwart, der Vergangenheit, von allem. Afterlife Requiem wird im Laufe seiner Dauer immer langsamer, es ist ein einziges großes Ritardando, die Zeit verlangsamt sich nicht nur, sie verschwindet. Ohne dass ich darüber nachgedacht hätte, ereigneten sich zwei miteinander verbundene Tragödien, die während des Schreibens, Aufnehmens und Arbeitens organisch an die Oberfläche kamen: der Tod meiner Mutter und der Tod des Komponisten und Freundes Jóhann Jóhannsson. Wenn ich mit dem Schreiben anfange, denke ich an nichts Bestimmtes, ich schreibe einfach, komponiere, nehme auf und höre zu ... aber irgendwas macht sich immer auf unvorhergesehene Weise bemerkbar oder drängt sich in den Vordergrund. Nach dem medizinisch assistierten Tod meiner Mutter wurde mir beim Ausräumen ihrer Wohnung klar, dass ich auch die physische Manifestation ihrer Welt auslöschte - und dass ich genau dasselbe mit der Musik tat, die ich schrieb und aufnahm. Während dieser Zeit wurde mir auch Jóhanns Tod immer wieder bewusst. Für Afterlife Requiem habe ich kurze, verlassene Fragmente aus Jóhann Jóhannssons Festplatten genommen und diese körperlosen Audio-Geister abwechselnd in meine eigene Musik eingebaut, wobei ich sie unrein gelassen habe - und dabei die Grenze zwischen Schaffen und Zerstören verwischt habe. Nach seinem Tod hatte ich diese Festplatten aus Jóhannssons Berliner Studio zum Anhören bekommen. Diese Musik war aufgegeben worden, in verschiedenen Stadien der Entstehung und Auflösung: ein Verzeichnis zerfallener und toter Erinnerungen, vergessen und jetzt nur noch in einer Reihe ineinandergreifender mechanischer Teile vorhanden, die mit der Zeit selbst versagen und verschwinden werden, wie alles andere auch. Monatelang hörte ich mir diese Überreste von Jóhanns Musik obsessiv an und versuchte, Hinweise auf Jóhann vor seinem Tod zu finden. Oft stellte ich fest, dass er das Aufnahmegerät noch lange nach Ende der aufgenommenen Musik laufen gelassen hatte. Er schien nicht zu bemerken, dass die Musik aufgehört hatte, oder registrierte nicht, dass dies das Ende der Musik war, oder vielleicht war er durch etwas anderes abgelenkt. Aber ich fand diese langen Stillephasen zutiefst emotional und berührend. Die verschwindenden Elegien von Afterlife Requiem sind weniger Musik als vielmehr Überreste von Musik. Auf diese Weise arbeite ich immer auf die Subtraktion von Bedeutung hin. Die Musik ist fern und verschwommen, beschädigt, geisterhaft und gespenstisch und deutet nur wie eine halb vergessene Erinnerung an das, was einmal existierte, eine verdichtete Darstellung von Verfall und Auslöschung. Ich habe dieses neue Stück von Anfang bis Ende mit diesen körperlosen Stillephasen aus Jóhanns eigenem Werk, Raum und Zeit unterlegt. Jetzt für immer verschwunden, bleibt seine aufgezeichnete Stille zurück; eine monumentale Leere, die der Welt verloren gegangen ist. Im gesamten Stück, insbesondere in den Abschnitten ,Memorial Environment", habe ich auch unzählige Geräusche aus der Natur integriert, von vulkanischer Lava über Lastenaufzüge bis hin zum menschlichen Blutfluss, dem Zischen von Turbinen und Selbstmordinjektionen. Der Künstler Robert Smithson sagte vor Jahrzehnten: ,Es ist die Dimension der Abwesenheit, die es noch zu finden gilt." Für mich misst diese Musik auch, wie die Zeit abläuft. Tatsächlich ist die Zeit bereits abgelaufen. Die Ewigkeit hat bereits begonnen." - Matthew Patton (Those Who Walk Away)

Just when you thought Kevin Richard Martin's music couldn’t go any slower, lower or deeper, Sub Zero emerges. A slow-motion excavation of drug-tech, dub, dreamy noise and frozen ambience, the album gradually mutates into hypnotic pulsations and melodic melancholia. It is arguably Martin’s most striking release to date under his given name.


Originally released digitally on Bandcamp only in the depths of winter 2022, amid the final year of the COVID-19 pandemic and Russia’s initial invasion of Ukraine, this desolate epic went on to become KRM's best-selling digital album on the platform. With persistent demand for a vinyl pressing and a full DSP release from fans, Martin thought the time was right for Sub Zero to finally surface in its full glory: remastered and paired with fresh new artwork.


Unnervingly, the album is as beautiful as it is solemn, as glacial as it is relentless, and as subtle as it is terrifying. A trip into a sonic abyss, with a tour of a philosophical void, it’s to my ears, KRM’s most seductive work yet, and also his most emotionally resonant. Martin expertly balances tear-jerking motifs with heavier than hell rhythmic weight. With its melodic fog, eternal drones and eerie atmospherics, the peripheral throb of distant kick drums, the heartbeat punctuation of cavernous subs and the snowstorm blizzard of fuzz absolutely envelopes the mind, whilst crushing the soul.


In terms of lineage, Sub Zero might recall a more paranoid Porter Ricks, a dystopian GAS, or a brutally dubbed-out Pan Sonic. Most fitting, however, is its kinship with the deepest dub terrain Martin previously explored on In Blue, The Bug’s acclaimed 2020 collaboration with Dis Fig for Hyperdub, where he obsessively probed subaqueous pulses and low-end modulations.


Sub Zero is possibly the most minimal, desolate, and deviant dub record yet released on Martin’s PRESSURE label. It marks the point at which dub disappears into its own effects trails. Dub music capturing frozen moments in time. Dub as an addictive painkiller, that sounds both sacred and ocean deep.

Impatience is thrilled to present Leaving Memory, the latest album-length work by Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova. Leaving Memory is a searing distillation of the duo’s ouevre - it’s eleven prismatic electronic seances combining for a mind warping wormhole with it’s own internal (il)llogic, where pop, ambient, and industrial music convene beneath a rugged HD of digital processing and brain fog. Equally rosy with nostalgia as it is ominously forward looking, Leaving Memory defies easy categorization and makes for an astounding, confounding listen.

By turns violently abrasive and disarmingly touching, Piper and Lena deploy sounds that fracture and disintegrate, burn up and explode, synthetic supernovas that give the record an unmistakable, inimitable texture. Song structures often abide by their own blueprint - heading in one direction before making an abrupt dive elsewhere. Bursts of vibrant colour lurk below layers of grayscale noise. Unidentifiable voices deliver secret messages from the murk. When rhythm’s emerge they ground the tracks to some unknown terrain and invigorate.

Lame Line veers towards the sweeter end of their spectrum, a hazy plaintive repetition increasingly lashed with friction, before Exit erupts with clanging rhythm and shards of distortion. Diagnosis is an almost sweet alt-pop song, Lena’s vocals yearning beneath a dubby shuffle, while Keeper Of The Void’s possessed incantations open up to a ripping, fried climax. Beryl Grey releases the pressure gauge, a gently lilting drift arpeggiating as the sun sets, and Lost Cars sweats through claustrophobic drones and bird song before the clouds part on a serene scene. Leaving Memory closes with Shin, offering a genuinely sweet resolution and a gentle landing back down to earth of either footsteps or fireworks, swelling synthesized horns and woodwinds, a kiss on the cheek for making it out the other side.

On Leaving Memory, Piper Spray & Lena Tsibizova share their uniquely discordant take on freaky music for unsettled minds, an intensely energized set that offers a deeply evocative, unimaginable otherworld for adventurous ears.

Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova have been producing music together since 2020. Leaving Memory is the first to be presented in the LP format. Piper has previously released music via Orange Milk, Hausu Mountain and Gost Zvuk, as well as his own Singapore Sling Tapes label. Lena works predominantly as a photographer, and together Piper and Lena have released music via radio.syg.ma and Kartaskvazhin. Both make music as part of Air Krew, who have released music on the Echotourist and Motion Ward labels. They’re both currently based nowhere.

Leaving Memory was written, produced and mixed by Piper Spray and Lena Tsibizova, and mastered by Sergey Podluzhniy. Cover photo by Lena Tsibizova, design and layout by Justin Sloane.

Siavash Amini is a composer from Tehran, Iran. He Has worked with labels like Room40, Hallow Ground, Opal Tapes and Umor Rex for the better half of the past ten years. He has performed at festivals like CTM & MUTEK and many other well known international events. Apart from it Siavash is a co-founder of the “SET experimental art events” and “SETfest” in Tehran, Iran. His work ranges from fragile ambient pieces and brittle IDM (incorporating his distinctive style of atmospheric guitar playing) to noisy drones and bleak modern classical pieces. His compositions have been inspired by films such as Andrei Tarkovsky's The Mirror as well as novels by Dostoyesvky and poems by T.S. Eliot.

Saffronkeira is the Sardinian sound researcher Eugenio Caria being active in the electronic music scene since almost two decades. His most recent work - a cooperation with the Italian jazz trumpet legend Paolo Fresu - earned a lot of praise from the international music press for the pure timelessness of the album.

"Upon hearing a small snippet of sound an image is conjured, not a memory but not unfamiliar. A shell of a memory, thousand events superimposed on each other. While trying to extract points of a narrative to ease the discomfort of this recollection, I try to separate and unfold the image and with it the points of the spectrum which make up the sound, a shell of a narrative. Here is an album based upon an almost entirely imagined/ synthesized happening upon hearing a snippet of sound. It sounded like of a whole story that never happened but yet I felt myself amongst it’s participants, a sound triggering a false memory. Each sound in Eugenio’s collection of sounds and ideas guided me a to a point in the narrative and it’s construction. He had handed me a portals of some kind to a few scenes of the whole narrative. This is the soundtrack for that false memory from all the perspectives I can think of."

Un-easy listening from »anti-singer« and improviser Sofia Jernberg, a celebration of the voice in its rawest, most malleable form. Jernberg was born in Ethiopia and grew up in Vietnam and Sweden, so one can only imagine these diverse languages opened up a wealth of phonetic possibilities before she entered academia to study jazz and composition. If you dive into her catalogue you’ll clock her startling range – working as a jazz soprano and as an improviser, collaborating with everyone from Stefan Schneider to Mats Gustafsson, as well as appearances on the stage and screen, most notably in Matthew Barney, Erna Ómarsdóttir, and Valdimar Jóhannsson’s »Union of the North«.

On »Voice«, Jernberg provides a ground-level entry point to her work, meticulously running through a litany of unconventional techniques (non-verbal vocalisation, split tones, toneless singing, and distortion) without any effects, just pure batshit sonics designed to show off the voice’s scope as an experimental instrument. On »Mouth Synthesizer« she purses her lips to make ratcheting pops like some analog oscillator, hoarsely mimicking the sort of blustery, Merzbow-coded distortions you might get if you patched a RAT pedal into a broken guitar amp. It isn’t an act of caricature, it’s Jernberg’s way of demonstrating that expensive modular rigs aren’t an essential tool for experimental music, before throwing a side-eye to the field recording industrial complex on »Birds«, transforming her vocal chords into a nightmare aviary. But it’s Jernberg’s startling »multiphonic« experiments that hit hardest. The album opens on »Multiphonic I«, and it’s difficult to tell that you’re listening to a human voice at first – you could just as well be on Colin Stetson’s overblown sax airstreams. Jernberg creates a captivating spiral of crooked, phased tones and hoarse, guttural croaks that she develops over three movements. On »Multiphonic II«, her voice is turned into a storm of pained shrieks, and on the third and final segment, it almost resembles Arve Henriksen or Jon Hassell’s muted brass curlicues. Each track pulls a different musical muscle, whether it’s »One Pitch« with its unsettling yodel-like quivering drones or »Gurgle«, sounding like a close mic-ed recording of a small pot gently simmering.

Explicit isolation is the third album by the international collective E/I, led by composer and percussionist Szymon Pimpon Gąsiorek. The group’s seven core members came together while studying at Copenhagen’s Rhythmic Music Conservatory and the Royal Danish Academy of Music. For this latest release, they are joined by Slovenian musicians Samo Kutin (hurdy-gurdy) and Kaja Draksler (organ), alongside Danish tuba player Rasmus Svale.

The three compositions distill sound down to its essential elements, drifting freely through space. The material is minimal, moving in the geological rhythm of endless cycles of tension and release, formation and dissolution, density and lightness. Pimpon acts here more as a guide than a creator with a master plan. He is a navigator, leading us to the most crucial moments where sonic emissions merge into vibrating drones, building to an inevitable leap—an explosion after which the particles rearrange themselves once again. It feels like futuristic temple music infused with intergalactic spiritual jazz, the extensions of drone music, and acoustic ambient textures, all highlighted by the jolly grin of the navigator.

“I wrote the scores and asked each of the musicians to record their parts individually. What’s interesting for me about doing it this way is that it removes the element of immediate interaction and introduces a factor of randomness. I then edited and mixed it myself, also adding my own parts. Previously, it was strictly acoustic music, and the recordings were ‘live,’ meaning they were captured in one room at the same time, with no subsequent edits.” Pimpon has also incorporated electronics, which make the album even more airy and organically complement the sounds of the hurdy-gurdy and organ, recorded in Trboje, the small Slovenian village.

Editions Mego welcomes KMRU back to the fold. Kin is Kenyan born, Berlin based, sonic wizard Joseph Kamaru’s second release on Editions Mego, following on from the classic 2020 release Peel. Since the release and subsequent praise for Peel, the artist has been a staple on the electronic scene performing on numerous stages and festivals worldwide in tandem with a flood of media recognition. Kin could be construed as the second child following Peel. The project came out of initial discussions with Peter Rehberg about what a Peel sequel would sound like. Kamaru is quick to clarify that Kin is not that record; “I'll know when that record will come and when I'll make it. It's already happening... or maybe it lives within both of these Mego records”.

It is this deft ambiguity and vague tiptoeing around the concrete that encapsulates the ambiguous sound world of Kamaru’s vision.

Kin was started early 2021 in Nairobi with Kamaru exploring his noisier palette of sounds encompassing distortions reminiscent of the sounds he would muster from in his youth when playing guitar. He paused making this record for a year as soon as Peter died, then slowly returned to it through 2022 resulting in the immense new work we have here.

The charms within Kin lay as Easter eggs revealing the true identity behind the colourful sonics only after multiple deep listens. With Trees Where We Can See sets the tone by way of a warm swaying melody inviting the listener in for further investigation. In 2022 KMRU and Mego stalwart Fennesz toured the USA together resulting in a strong friendship and also, the second track here, Blurred. A neat Mego/Editions Mego loop as such. Blurred arranges twangy guitar strums alongside glistening glaciers of shimmering drones. They Are Here represents a darker hue as melancholic clouds of shadowy noir tap directly into the listener's nerve stream. Maybe takes a detour into a bristling euphoric electronic storm whilst We Are screeches in a pattern formation not unlike a highly abstracted Aphex Twin forcing its way out of a hard drive. By Absence concludes proceedings, operating as both exit music and a portal to further sonic investigation with acoustic bellowing residing amongst a kaleidoscopic backdrop.

Kin is a trip that rewards close repeated listens as all the colours and textures, nuance and narratives unveil themselves. This isn’t a record to be glossed over, magic rewards concentration.

Kin is a record to be Played slow and LOUD.

For Pita.

All tracks written, produced, mixed by Joseph Kamaru
Blurred co-written & produced with Christian Fennesz
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu at Schwebung Mastering
Photography: Joseph Kamaru
Layout & Design: Nik Void
Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle, Berlin

Inspired by witnessing the broken tension and renewed possibilities of a laptop breaking down at a gig – not to mention the void left behind by the sudden end of a relationship – Pentu’s latest release is a jump-cut menagerie of musical moments. Sewn together into ‘And I Saw My Devil And I Saw My Deep Blue Sea’, these fifteen tracks continue the London-based producer’s active departure from the soundscapes and song structures that dominated their previous writing style. These disparate pieces slice themselves off into sudden silence, or veer into unpredictable sidebars, hopping from hyperactive instrumentals to beautifully deconstructed YouTube samples. Described by Pentu as “emotionally intuitive to write”, this is music by and for the endlessly scrolling modern mind – “navigating the world alongside the splintered, interruptive emotional hyper realities of social media.”

The sudden silences, drones, and interruptions are perhaps less surprising than the guitar-based textures of metal & shoegaze woven into several vital passages by Pentu. The result is a collage that encapsulates the erratic feeling, not only of a relationship’s end, but simply of navigating online mediascapes.”I found myself realising that my phone, the constant interrupter of nothingness and silence, was both a cause of depression (reliving memories, dating apps) and a relief from it (creating new friendships, distractions, also dating apps)”, says Pentu.

Pentu’s attempt to overcome content overload by actively curbing his setup of laptop-guitar--synth does little to reduce the scope of this album’s sonic palette. YouTube vlog samples (from videos with next-to-no views) are an attempt to recontextualise and dramatise material that “would have otherwise been throwaway moments lost in the internet”, adding staccato moments of reality to Pentu’s beautiful and jarring album-length paean to overstimulation.

Allowing yourself to find meaning or beauty in the mundane is an act of generosity, Whether it’s seeing a smiling face in an electrical outlet socket, or discerning cosmic design amidst the forest floor detritus, it comes from a place of kindness to yourself and senses – and openness to hidden spirit of the world. These tracks came together during a period of intense personal change for adaa, rooted in a fruitful reflection on the connections between spirit and body, “feeling my flesh so I can feel and understand my spirit,” as adaa puts it. The sense of a crossover and clash of multiple connected realities – on-screens, on-line, on-earth, off-world, after-life – unites adaa’s multifaceted productions.

Ostensibly an assemblage of found sounds. scribbled thoughts and poems from diaries, and musial snippets, the album's scattered production reflects adaa’s own many mirror worlds. Field recording sit behind most tracks, alongside VST synths, guitars, and a variety of voices, from adaa’s own mangled vox to EVP samples taken from YouTube (recorded sounds believed to be spirits or paranormal activity), all processed to varying degrees.

While the music was mostly produced either in adaa’s studio in Providence, Rhode Island, or in bed, the field recordings bring the outside world in. The result of walks in the woods, hum of roads and highways, hiss of beaches, warmth of walks with friends and past lovers “around the East Coast”. It sits behind tracks like ‘sight’ where a lilting piano lin bobs atop a pond of rustling and distant whistles. Is that birdsong? Or ghosts? Saccharine hyperpop arpeggiation crossfades sharply into noise guitar squall. Angelic demon voices yawn into a hefty crescendo. Pure drones duet with gales of undefinable field sounds.

“Sometimes I feel like a seed in frosted soil,” says adaa. “If i choose to be optimistic.”

Across an extensive suite of enchanting miniatures, Matthias Kremsreiter and Christian Schoppik present the hypnagogic vision of Taghelle Nacht. Recording under their respective Roudi Vagou and Läuten der Seele aliases, Kremsreiter and Schoppik combine their distinct but equally accomplished instrumental practices into a new collaboration that weaves swooning samples amongst instrumental passages. They lead us through 16 vignettes that revel in the cognitive dissonance and seductive magic of moonlight at midnight.

Both artists have past form within the folds of contemporary experimental electronic music in Germany. Kremsreiter's work as alibikonkret has manifested on DIY tape releases created with a methodical, technically-minded approach. Debuting his Roudi Vagou pseudonym on Taghelle Nacht, he pivots to a more playful, instinctively felt method that allows the compositions to flow with a natural cadence. Schoppik has been a key figure in the celebrated dark-ambient-folk scene, not least as part of the group Brannten Schnüre. His work as Läuten der Seele includes the acclaimed 'water trilogy' of LPs between 2022 and 2024, with a greater emphasis on instrumental, atmospheric production, and a last, stunning collaborative album with Nový Sv?t's Jota Solo.

On Taghelle Nacht the precise ingredients of each piece soften at the edges as tape loops and swathes of reverb seal the joints between spellbinding melodic refrains. Opening track and lead single 'Gleisende Lichter' sets the tone with ghostly murmurs, spine-tingling string refrains and splashes of cymbal that cut through the gloom with stark clarity. A lilting romanticism stirs at the heart of the orchestral samples that populate the likes of "Grenzu?berschreitung" - old-world beauty sometimes buried in dust, elsewhere rendered with startling clarity. 'So Süß' lets buzzing, sustained drones and dissonant sweeps of extended technique glide in and out of each other. Granular processing subtly breaks apart the mellow swell on 'Komischer Anruf', and forlorn sax calls out into heavy-hearted space on 'Glaskopf Mit Watte'. At every turn a new scene is painted, distinct from the last and yet all bound up in the pervasive, pale blue light cast over the sleeping landscape Kremsreiter and Schoppik have sculpted.

Snatches of song drift by like dreamlike fragments, and achingly tender flourishes fleetingly appear and retreat - ideas and expressions momentarily caught in the light before retreating into the shadows once more. This is the evocative world of Taghelle Nacht - an unsettling depiction of the surreal blend of memories and imagination that merge into each other once the sun goes down.

'Flowers', the new EP from Elizabeth Davis, finds itself at the cross-section of many factors. In part, it’s the result of Davis’ obsession with a seminal folk song. But it also coincides with her rediscovery of the voice and language as an instrument. It was recorded during an autumn residency at Sternhagen Gut, the cultural refuge run by Gudrun Gut and Thomas Fehlmann, located deep in the Uckermark countryside halfway between Berlin and the Baltic coast.

The six tracks on 'Flowers' all take Pete Seeger’s ‘60s protest-folk song 'Where Have All The Flowers Gone' as their starting point. However, they veer off in different directions, from vocal loops and deconstructed lyrics, to instrumental drones and glitchy, manipulated rhythm tracks. Like many musicians, Davis has learnt composition by a process of disassembly, analyzing musical works piece by piece, and 'Flowers' began as one such forensic exercise. “But sometimes,” says Davis, “a source is so loaded up on meaning that the studies and experiments can become worthwhile and meaningful works in their own right.” 'Flowers' began to take on a life of its own, raising renewed questions about age-old themes such as war, authorship, translation and historical structures.

Davis is no stranger to cover versions. From studying violin to playing in free jazz and punk bands, interpreting other artists’ works has long been a key part of her musical approach. And since her radio show 'Deep Puddle' recently drew to a close after seven years, her experiments with narration and sound collage have found their way into her musical work once again. For 'Flowers', she cut up the source material (with a nod to Gysin and Burroughs), and reassembled the lyrics, the musical notes, and recordings by different performers, to create uncanny new forms.

But perhaps the biggest influence on 'Flowers' was conversations about music, art and pop subcultures with Gut. These dialogues helped Davis find a balance between far-out sound design experiments and catchy melodies, combining a certain avant-garde element and modern day songcraft. And it’s this sense of conversation, this revisiting of topics and renewal of ideas, that will keep us coming back to 'Flowers' long into the future.

Logical Absurd is very proud to present the 20th Anniversary of the album "She And Me Fall Together In Free Death" by Nurse With Wound. "She and Me Fall Together in Free Death" is probably the most approachable, largely "musical" album that NWW has released since Rock N' Roll Station. It's also one of his strangest concepts, a marriage of trance inducing Krautrock grooves with a traditional jazz standard and some jarringly atonal musique concrete. Side A is the 20- minute title track: a slow-motion jam reminiscent of of one of Can's sidelong tracks on Tago Mago or the more avant-garde grooves of Tony Conrad and Faust's Outside the Dream Syndicate.

The propulsive Jaki Liebezeit drumbeat is the foundation for a long jam session with what sounds like a dijderidoo and layers of guitar feedback. It's a massive, heavy sound, the kind that Julian Cope would devote a whole chapter to in his "Kratrocksampler". Side B is one long piece with three distinct movements. Beginning with those familiar, World Serpent-trademark windchimes, the listener is quickly ushered into Staple- ton's singing debut (!) in a rendition of the oft-covered traditional jazz ballad "Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair" This was a favorite of the recently deceased Nina Simone, and also of the avant-jazz screamer Patty Waters. Nurse With Wound's version is backed by cello drones, repetitive guitar strums and tambourine, sounding very much like The Velvet Un- derground's "Venus in Furs".

It's such a treat to hear Steven Stapleton's multitracked vocals cover this classic song, and this eerie version rates as one of my favorites. This song and the title track prove to the naysayers that Nurse With Wound is equally adept at rock n' roll songcraft as he is at demented sound collages. The creepy jazz cover seques into "Chicken Con- cret (For Missy E)", a truly warped tape-edit job that juxtaposes chicken squawks and sythesized birdcalls with random bleeps, speaker hiccups and gongs.

LP, Opaque Pink Vinyl, w/ download card

Mexico City’s Sunset Images emerge with their most daring and immersive work to date, Oscilador, arriving January 23 on Dedstrange. Known for pushing the boundaries of noise rock and psychedelic experimentation, the band plunges deeper into their raw, unrelenting sound—crafting an album that thrives in chaos, distortion, and hypnotic repetition.
Oscilador captures Sunset Images at a new creative peak: jagged guitars dissolve into swirling feedback, fractured rhythms pulse like machinery on the brink, and vocals echo through layers of reverb as if channeled from another dimension. The record balances intensity and atmosphere, offering both catharsis and transcendence. It’s a sonic free fall that feels at once destructive and redemptive—like watching a city crumble only to find strange beauty in the ruins.
The album title reflects the band’s fascination with constant motion and instability, the oscillations of sound and life itself. Across the record, Sunset Images embrace the extremes: minimal passages expand into walls of noise, meditative drones are shattered by bursts of primal energy, and every song teeters on the edge of collapse. This restless spirit makes Oscilador not just a collection of songs, but a visceral experience—one that mirrors the tension and electricity of Mexico City’s underground scene.
Joining forces with Dedstrange, Sunset Images step onto a global stage while staying true to their uncompromising vision. For fans of A Place To Bury Strangers, Sonic Youth, or My Bloody Valentine, Oscilador delivers the thrill of pure immersion—music that doesn’t just demand to be heard, but to be felt in the chest, the bones, and the subconscious.
With Oscilador, Sunset Images invite listeners to lose themselves in noise, distortion, and dissonance—and to find clarity within the chaos.

Active for 40 years, Nurse with wound is one of the projects of Steven Stapleton, materialized in a very wide range of hysterical noise over sound collages and cut ups, abstract music, soothing drones and surreal sound paintings, and more rhythmical and mechanical pieces, always inspired by Dadaism and Futurism, Krautrock, jazz improvisation, surrealism, never losing his main goal, that is having fun and enjoying himself.He has had many collaborators, a recurrent one in the 80s and 90’s being Current 93’s David Tibet, another noticeable one still at work with him is Andrew Liles.The main line of this unpredictable sound builder is hectic and uncompromised, his point of view is that everything is possible and applies it to himself. As a youngster he wanted to be an artist so decided he was one . He is not a musician, and says he has no interest in becoming one. Surprisingly, (or not!), the love of his life is building sculptures out of recycled and reclaimed materials, building things with anything, even junk. And sounds, we are a witness to it.With these very strange juxtapositions of styles and manners, female rap music and 50s and 60s lounge music having a special top priority in Steven’s tastes, and a creativity that has no bounds no taboos, with a taste of novelty every time, Nurse with wound will no doubt continue to surprise people listening to his works, and himself, as he wants to keep it fresh every time, mostly for him.

Mit dem Original Soundtrack zu Star Trek: Insurrection erscheint eines der letzten großen Werke des legendären Filmkomponisten Jerry Goldsmith in einer hochwertigen, limitierten Vinyl-Ausgabe. Die Musik kombiniert klassische orchestrale Star-Trek-Themen mit neuen, emotionalen und abenteuerlichen Klangwelten, die die Atmosphäre des neunten Star-Trek-Kinofilms eindrucksvoll widerspiegeln.

Diese LP richtet sich nicht nur an eingefleischte Star-TrekFans, sondern auch an Liebhaber hochwertiger Filmmusik und Vinyl-Sammler. Die warmen, detailreichen Klangfarben des Orchesters kommen auf Vinyl besonders zur Geltung und machen diese Veröffentlichung zu einem echten Highlight jeder Soundtrack-Sammlung.

Loaded with tension and anchored by bold textural and stylistic contrasts, Sam Slater’s third solo full-length finds the British sound artist, composer, and engineer grappling with his creative contradictions head-on.

Having spent a life time in bands and producing records, Sam transitioned somewhat by accident through his work with Johan Johansson into working as a composer on high profile projects such as his collaboration with Hildur Guðnadóttir on the Grammy Award-winning Joker and Chernobyl, and with Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Mstyslav Chernov on the soundtrack to the lauded 2000 Meters to Andriivka. Having a vast set of interests and influences is an asset when helping realise a directors vision for a soundtrack, but one's own musical voice can end up being constrained. In Lunng, Slater has gone back to his wildly divergent range of influences and rather than shy away from the extremes, he's used them to create a singular vision.

Take the opening track “Heatsick”: Slater imagines an extravagant fusion of 2000s drone metal and vintage British brass, welding ear-splitting overdriven drones and blown-out choral vocals to stirring trombone swells from veteran player Hilary Jeffery. On paper, it’s hard to imagine—but Slater’s intentionality conducts these polarizing elements into a surreal blur of sonic extremes, with the guitars’ relative harshness softened by Jeffery’s eerily nostalgic colliery echoes.

His last solo album, I do not wish to be known as a Vandal (Bedroom Community, 2022), showcased this breadth by assembling a team of collaborators including Sam Dunscombe and Yair Elazar Glotman. On this record he’s linking up with acclaimed multi-instrumentalist Maria W. Horn, idiosyncratic sax virtuoso Bendik Giske, versatile percussionist Adam Betts, and the aforementioned Jeffery, Slater ushers these players toward a lattice of calculated confutations.

Working to explore the tension between the divergent practices of his collaborators—Lunng was meant to be challenging. On “Praya”, Giske’s familiar overblown horn phrases are almost vaporized, vanishing among Slater’s weightless synths and Horn’s chillingly hoarse vocals. There are traces of Horn’s Funeral Folk project, but Slater shifts the emphasis, letting her voice brush past the other elements like a hallucination.

Slater’s use of extremes isn’t just in the micro; dynamics drive the album’s overall flow. “Praya” sets the stage for the record’s heaviest, most prickly moment: “Passengers”. Here, Horn’s voice cracks, rasps, and gurgles over serrated synths and Betts’ ritualistic drums. Slater turns an industrial symphony into a folk opera—dark, dramatic, and strangely beautiful—etched with Giske’s fluttering phrases.

But the mood soon shifts. Slater careens toward chaos, unleashing double-time rhythms and piercing textures familiar to anyone with a soft spot for classic black metal. These grotesque incongruities are deliberate; Slater surveys years of musical conflict and leans in, using dissent as fuel to build kinetic energy.

The weight of sentimentality bears down on “Black Metal Rewind (Night Drive Astra, 2006)”, melting teenage memories into hypnagogic ambience—shoegaze dreams whirled with angelic choral delusions. On “Death by Nostalgia, 1688”, he ventures further into polarizing territory, distorting AutoTuned voices with cryptic strings and medieval tonalities, unsettling any stable sense of past or present.

In this record Slater focuses on pure energy, color, and mood. Lunng distills years of listening into a bracing brew—boiling each sound down to its essence, then serving it with unflinching intent.

John Twells, 2025

First-ever vinyl edition of Magic Castles' 2014 cult album The Lore Of Mysticore. A hypnotic blend of shimmering psych pop, hazy drones, and kaleidoscopic guitar textures, this record captures the Minneapolis band at the height of their creative powers. Originally released in 2014, The Lore Of Mysticore stands as one of the most compelling documents of the contemporary psychedelic underground. Minneapolis-based Magic Castles craft a hypnotic and immersive sound that blends shimmering psych-pop, hazy drones, and kaleidoscopic guitar textures into expansive, sun-drenched songs. This first-ever vinyl edition brings the band's beloved debut album to wax for the very first time, offering fans a chance to experience its swirling, cinematic beauty in a format that truly does it justice. Essential listening for fans of The Brian Jonestown Massacre, The Asteroid #4 and Spacemen 3

Una interpretación de Soinuarenbidea II debería partir de esta premisa: todo es posible, nada es aleatorio, y en sí mismo es un imposible de aleatoriedades. El escenario planteado explora la idea de realidad aumentada desde una percepción sonora, ambiental y colectiva. La obra transita hacia adelante y hacia atrás recreando experiencias extintas de porvenir incierto, tratando de facilitar un fin pacificador. Cada pieza sonora se crea, se despliega, se repliega y se destruye, en una torsión permanente de toda la realidad que hace posible cada fragmento musical, cada identidad acústica, cada espacio sonoro. Lo onírico, la ficción, y el viaje están continuamente presentes, y es en el transitar de cada fragmento donde se produce el diálogo de la exposición musical. Los elementos de esta ficción se recrean continuamente, en un continuum donde se entrelazan y se van contorsionando a medida que crecen o decrecen con cada fragmento de síntesis concreta. Los temas explícitamente musicales son el magma que conduce a dar voluptuosidad al disco, siendo la piel un contexto o límite que en sí mismo fluctúa indefinidamente en texturas y configuraciones posibles. Y la urdimbre del silencio es la síntesis que está continuamente presente y que trata de cohesionar los fragmentos en continua colisión expresiva. Las grabaciones de campo proporcionan el material sonoro concreto, y como un fractal sonoro cada una de ellas ofrece diferentes grados de interpretación que a su vez conduce a nuevos fragmentos y nuevas creaciones. Así que se puede pensar que esta es una síntesis de una posible realidad, pero interpretable en infinidad de maneras. Un movimiento y una estaticidad implícitas que generan estructuras y dinámicas acústicas. Lo que se escucha no es real, pero en sí mismo forma parte de la realidad, creando un escenario expectante. Lo cinematográfico, plástico y teatral, danzante y dinámico cobra importancia en este juego, porque se trata de contar una historia, una experiencia recreada desde los puntos de vista del arte visual. Es a su vez hilo conductor y entretenimiento, discurso político y puro divertimento. Es desde este espacio de convivencia artística que tiene sentido la totalidad y justifica el formato sonoro planteado. La contradicción de la obra es patente en el formato, y es a su vez el planteamiento de una accidentalidad en el devenir vital. Contenedor de Ruido recoge todas estas contradicciones y las manifiesta en la obra Soinuarenbidea II. Es una historia sonora, es un cuento acústico. Es un fragmento de vitalidad en imágenes audibles. Es una invitación a la reflexión, a la crítica, al disfrute, a la meditación, a la celebración. Y sobre todo es esperanzadora apreciación de la realidad como algo maleable que confeccionamos colectivamente, que requiere de una paciente observación y la participación colectiva global, en un mundo finito pleno de diversidades y del que ignoramos prácticamente todo, al que deberíamos volver con respeto y devoción.

Soinuarenbidea II-ren interpretazio batek premisa honetatik abiatu beharko luke: dena da posible, ezer ez da ausazkoa, eta, berez, ausazkotasun ezinezko bat da. Planteatutako agertokiak errealitate areagotuaren ideia aztertzen du, soinu-, ingurumen- eta talde-pertzepzio batetik abiatuta. Lanak aurrera eta atzera egiten du, etorkizun zalantzagarriko esperientzia desagertuak birsortuz eta helburu baketsua lortzen saiatuz. Soinu-pieza bakoitza sortu, hedatu, tolestu eta suntsitu egiten da, musika-zati bakoitza, identitate akustiko bakoitza eta soinu-espazio bakoitza ahalbidetzen dituen errealitate osoaren etengabeko bihurdura batean. Onirikoa, fikzioa eta bidaia etengabe daude presente, eta pasarte bakoitzaren joan-etorrian gertatzen da musika-erakusketaren elkarrizketa. Fikzio honen elementuak etengabe birsortzen dira, continuum batean, non sintesi zati zehatz bakoitzarekin hazi edo txikitu ahala elkar lotzen eta bihurritzen diren. Esplizituki musikalak diren gaiak diskoari atsegintasuna ematera eramaten duen magma dira, azala testuingurua edo muga izanik, testura eta konfigurazio posibleetan mugarik gabe aldatzen dena. Eta isiltasunaren irazkia etengabe presente dagoen sintesia da, zatiak etengabeko adierazpen-talkan kohesionatzen saiatzen dena. Landa-grabazioek soinu-material zehatza ematen dute, eta soinu-fraktal batek bezala, horietako bakoitzak interpretazio-maila desberdinak eskaintzen ditu, eta horrek, aldi berean, zati eta sorkuntza berrietara eramaten du. Beraz, pentsa daiteke errealitate posible baten sintesia dela, baina hamaika modutan interpreta daitekeena. Egitura eta dinamika akustikoak sortzen dituzten mugimendu eta estatikotasun inplizitu bat. Entzuten dena ez da erreala, baina, berez, errealitatearen parte da, eta agertoki espektakularra sortzen du. Zinematografikoak, plastikoak eta antzerkikoak, dantzariak eta dinamikoak garrantzia hartzen dute joko honetan, ikusizko artearen ikuspegitik birsortutako istorio bat, esperientzia bat, kontatzea baita helburua. Aldi berean, hari gidaria eta entretenimendua da, diskurtso politikoa eta dibertimendu hutsa. Elkarbizitzarako espazio artistiko honetatik osotasunak zentzua du eta planteatutako soinu-formatua justifikatzen du. Obraren kontraesana nabarmena da formatuan, eta, aldi berean, bizi-bilakaeran istripu-tasa bat planteatzea da. Zarata-edukiontziak kontraesan horiek guztiak jasotzen ditu eta Soinuarenbidea II obran adierazten ditu. Soinu istorio bat da, ipuin akustiko bat. Bizitasun zati bat da, irudi entzungarrietan. Hausnarketarako, kritikarako, gozamenerako, meditaziorako eta ospakizunerako gonbidapena da. Eta, batez ere, itxaropentsua da errealitatea modu kolektiboan egiten dugun gauza xaflakor gisa hautematea, behaketa pazientea eta partaidetza kolektibo globala eskatzen dituena, dibertsitatez betetako mundu mugatu batean, ia guztia kontuan hartzen ez duguna, eta errespetuz eta debozioz itzuli beharko genukeena.

An interpretation of Soinuarenbidea II should start from this premise: everything is possible, nothing is random, and in itself is an impossible randomness. The proposed scenario explores the idea of ​​augmented reality from a sonic, environmental, and collective perception. The work moves back and forth, recreating extinct experiences of an uncertain future, seeking to facilitate a peaceful end. Each sound piece is created, unfolds, retreats, and is destroyed, in a permanent twisting of all reality that makes each musical fragment, each acoustic identity, each sonic space possible. The dreamlike, the fictional, and the journey are continually present, and it is in the transit of each fragment that the dialogue of the musical exposition takes place. The elements of this fiction are continually recreated, in a continuum where they intertwine and contort as they grow or diminish with each fragment of concrete synthesis. The explicitly musical themes are the magma that leads to the work's voluptuousness, the skin being a context or boundary that in itself fluctuates indefinitely in possible textures and configurations. And the warp of silence is the synthesis that is continually present and seeks to unite the fragments in a continuous expressive collision. The field recordings provide the concrete sound material, and like a sonic fractal, each one offers different degrees of interpretation that in turn lead to new fragments and new creations. So one can think of this as a synthesis of a possible reality, but interpretable in an infinite number of ways. An implicit movement and staticity that generate acoustic structures and dynamics. What is heard is not real, but in itself is part of reality, creating an expectant scenario. The cinematic, plastic and theatrical, dance and dynamic aspects take on importance in this game, because it is about telling a story, an experience recreated from the perspective of visual art. It is at once a common thread and entertainment, political discourse and pure entertainment. It is from this space of artistic coexistence that the whole makes sense and justifies the proposed sound format. The contradiction of the work is evident in its format, and it is, in turn, the presentation of an accidentality in the course of life. Noise Container gathers all these contradictions and manifests them in the work Soinuarenbidea II. It is a sound story, an acoustic tale. It is a fragment of vitality in audible images. It is an invitation to reflection, to critique, to enjoyment, to meditation, to celebration. And above all, it is a hopeful appreciation of reality as something malleable that we collectively craft, requiring patient observation and global collective participation, in a finite world full of diversity and of which we know practically nothing, to which we should return with respect and devotion.

Paisajes sonoros, diseño sonoro, drones y música grabada, realizada y arreglada para Contenedor de Ruido por David Aranaz. Coro: Basandere Ahotsak. Producido y mezclado por David Aranaz. Mástering: Estanis Elorza. Fotografía: David Aranaz. Texto: David Aranaz. Traducción: Saioa Aranaz Oreja. Trabajo y Diseño artístico: Cristina Martinez. Edición: Contenedor de Ruido Producciones y Sarbide Music. Distribución: Contenedor de Ruido.

Contenedor de Ruido agradece el apoyo en la realización de Soinuarenbidea II al coro Basandere Ahotsak y en especial a Eva Orbara Goicoa.

Soinuarenbidea II está dedicado al pueblo palestino.

Paisajes y objetos Sonoros, samplers y otras músicas transformadas para Soinuarenbidea II
Burlada: Paseos sonoros matinales por Merindad de Sangüesa, Calle Mayor, Capuchinas, Parque Uranga y varias iglesias y plazas. Pasajes del cotidiano: basura de papel, cristal y plástico.
Pamplona: Cementerio de San José. CEIP Sanduzelai /// Quinto Real: Fábrica de Armas, Puerto de Urkiaga y alrededores. Suite del silencio, bosques en movimiento /// Fábrica de armas de Orbaiceta: regatas, biosques, paseo sonoro hasta regata /// Belate: Puerto de Belate y alrededores. Vacas en pradera junto a las turberas /// Bardenas Reales: Suite de guitarra y Suite del silencio, estepa desértica /// Austria: Tranvías de Graz y Viena. Muchedumbre del metro de Viena.
Voces cinematográficas de: Matanza en Texas, Robocop, Espíritu Sagrado, Solo los Amantes Sobreviven, Voces de Gaza, Yojimbo, Terciopelo Azul, Los 7 Magníficos.
La pista A2 está dedicada a la memoria de David Lynch.
La pista B4 está dedicada a Eva Orbara Goicoa.
Pista A4: Contiene interpretaciones de piano de Three Piano Pieces Op.11 de Arnold Schoenberg.
Pista A5: Es una interpretación expandida con síntesis FM del Concerto Op. 24 - Etwas lebhaft - de Anton Webern.
Pista A7: Contiene la canción Besarkatu ninduzun (Letra de Josune López y música de Josu Elberdin) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak en la iglesia de Burutain bajo la tormenta.
Pista B2: Contiene la canción Recuerdos de la Alhambra (Fernando Tárrega) en interpretación torsionada de David Aranaz Sarasa.
Pista B14: Contiene la canción Agur María (Letra y Música de Estíbaliz Robles “Estitxu” y arreglo exclusivo de Alfonso Ortiz para Basandere Ahotsak) en interpretación de Basandere Ahotsak.

Equipamiento para Soinuarenbidea II.
Micros de condensador SE7, configuración XY y ORTF; Micros de cinta ORTIZ LUTHIER configuración XY y Blumlein; Grabadoras MARANTZ y ZOOM; Sintetizadores y samplers Elektron MONOMACHINE SPS-1, MACHINEDRUM SFX6 y MODEL:SAMPLES. Dave Smith MOPHO. Torso Electronics S-4. Sintetizador Modular 333 DIY; Guitarra clásica ALHAMBRA 6P; Esculturas Sonoras tipo Baschet, cristal y metales; Mesa Soundcraft FX16ii; Interface de Audio RME Babyface Pro FS; DAW Logic Pro; Procesamiento de modelado analógico con Acústica Audio, Waves, Softube, Brainworx, Sonible, Analog Obsesion, Tokio Dawn. Metering de Logic y RME DigiCheck . Amplificación Hafler PRO2400. Monitorización BW DM602 S3. Mezcla digital; Mastering híbrido.

A chopped-and-screwed love letter to the sounds of rebajada – half-speed cumbia, pioneered by Sonido Dueñez in the 1990s, and born from an overheated turntable motor that didn’t make the crowd stop dancing. With Debit’s treatment, rebajada becomes an ethereal, at times intense ambient tapestry that’s also a history lesson.

Spend any amount of time pacing the streets of Monterrey, the bustling city in the north of Mexico where Delia Beatriz, aka Debit, grew up, and you’ll be sure to catch traces of cumbia echoing from Bluetooth speakers, DIY soundsystems, or car stereos. An Afro-Latin dance form and »practica cultural« originating in Colombia in the early 19th century, cumbia evolved rapidly in the early 1900s, as a localised sound played on drums and flutes quickly modernised to integrate European instrumentation like the accordion. When it reached Mexico in the 1940s, the sound shifted again, fusing with mariachi styles and integrating further vallenato folk elements. Eventually, cumbia spread across the entirety of Latin America, splintering into a spectrum of different musical styles such as chicha in Peru, and cumbia villera in Argentina. And over in Monterrey, cumbia inadvertently found its own idiosyncratic groove.

From the 1950s to the 1970s, waves of immigrants from across Mexico and Latin America headed to Monterrey to find work, making a home in Colonia Independencia. Colombian cumbia records, shipped in from Mexico City, Houston, and Miami, became the soundtrack of the neighbourhood, relaying familiar stories to a rural working class adjusting to their new industrial reality. The sound struck a chord with locals, and huge street parties hosted by ramshackle soundsystems known as sonideros unified the diverse community. So when cumbia rebajada materialised serendipitously in the 1990s, it emphasised and highlighted the memory distortions at the heart of the immigrant experience. Local record collector, selector, and sonidero Gabriel Dueñez had been playing cumbia for hours one night when disaster struck: his turntable’s motor overheated and slowed down, turning the music into a warped groan, with half-speed voices echoing over wobbly accordion drones and splashy drums. But the crowd kept dancing, and Sonido Dueñez realised he’d struck gold – cumbia rebajada was born.

Over the next few years, he dubbed a popular series of mixtapes, hawking them at the flea market on the dried-up Santa Catarina riverbed beneath El Puente del Papa, the bridge that links downtown Monterrey with Independencia. These woozy archives became the stuff of legend, poetically but subconsciously shadowing DJ Screw’s series of epochal cassettes that appeared over the border in Houston. Beatriz uses Sonido Dueñez’s first two tapes as the starting point for »Desaceleradas«, entering into a dialogue with time, culture, and geography as she recalls the sonic ecosystem that surrounded her decades ago, long before she emigrated to the USA. If 2022’s acclaimed »The Long Count« was an attempt to recover concealed pre-Columbian history in the face of colonisation, »Desaceleradas« jumps forward, figuring out how memory and shared celebration can resist a more contemporary form of cultural erasure. As AI systems scrape, blend, and decontextualise culture around us, leaving vapid slop, »Desaceleradas« proposes a slower, more careful, and ultimately more human kind of engagement. It’s an archive with a pulse.

“There's a clarity here that feels hard-won. Honing ideas first explored with his Organic Music series, Tiago Sousa unlocks the final puzzle pieces on Sustained Tones Vol 1. This music is enchanted, the way each layer moves in conjunction with the others: complex structures that feel less constructed than discovered, like stumbling upon ancient mechanisms still whirring beneath the earth. "Readily Reliance" opens as an effervescent sea, waves gilded in neon creating an enveloping sense of eternal motion. Bright organ timbres throw silhouettes and cast Sousa as the deft puppeteer keeping everything moving with an effortless precision. These evolving shapes suspend listeners somewhere between the physical and the cosmic, held in place by nothing but intention and sound.

Drones build rippling foundations in other places, using slower tempos to construct immersive, off-kilter sound worlds where minimalism becomes emotive, almost poignant. The fluctuating tones have a gossamer sheen, creating this interesting sonic dichotomy: a solid surface with fragile rotations beneath. It's music that commands attention; it is so much more than simply aural furniture. Sousa writes these beautiful sequences that are all interconnected, intricate sonic architecture that pulls us further into some kind of unknowable ether.

On the piano pieces, "Smooth Flow Into It" and "Swirling Mist and Thin Dust," Sousa shines sunlight through all the cracks. Washes of melody are effervescent, clouds clearing to reveal the day has not gone. Not yet. Positioned in the middle of Sustained Tones Vol 1, these pieces ground the album in something transcendent yet still earthen: moments of breath inside all that cosmic drift. Darkness finds its way through on "Restlessness," where Sousa smears sinuous electronics into a ghostly sonic mesh that seeps through the skin. It feels like a slow inhale, time suspended long enough to take note of where we are and how we feel before moving forward. Expressive, almost sparkling synth arrangements return to send us back into reality on closer "Becoming a Landscape." Its title hints at larger concepts at play throughout this album, where lines between our physical beings and the wider environment are blurred. The tones that echo throughout these six pieces mirror the echoes inside our bodies, from heartbeats and voices to something quieter, something much smaller and more elemental. By immersing us inside these mesmerising, beautiful soundscapes, Sousa immerses us within ourselves.’’

Brad Rose, 2025

Full of joy, they ran to meet him.
Then threw one of the shirts over each of them,
and when the shirts touched their bodies they were transformed into swans,
and flew away over the woods.
The record is comprised of a series of improvised recordings made over the course of an evening in Autumn ’23, captured at the Jabu home studio, south Bristol while Teresa was staying in town for a show. Everything was recorded into the desk in a single take and left as it was, no editing or overdubs, instruments were swapped around and effects units left buzzing ground hum scattered over the floor.
Teresa and Guest (Jasmine of Jabu) provided the vocals, taking words from anything at hand - poetry books, an old copy of the Whole Earth Catalog - their voices winding together, echoing out each other’s melodies. This approach is mirrored by the instrumentals, anchored by something at times - a bassline, one of Birthmark’s synth drones or a fizzing chord but always on the edge of collapsing in on itself or floating away. The tracks become more soporific as the record goes on (and as the night got later), ending on a refrain of ‘say you think its true’ as the instrumental finally dissolves the pedals get dialled up to 11 and Birthmark’s drones turn into distant lasers in a last swan song of feedback.
Recorded Sep 2023 in Bristol, BS3, by:
Teresa Winter (vocals, fx)
Guest (vocals, guitar, fx)
Birthmark (synth, fx)
A.Childs (samples, bass, guitar)

"Ensomheden Vi Deler" ("The Loneliness We Share") is the result of a dialogue between the collages and the music of øjeRum, initiated by IIKKI, between December 2024 and July 2025.

øjeRum is Copenhagen based musician and collage artist Paw Grabowski.

With his collages, the distinctive feature of øjeRum's works is their ability to combine different historical and artistic periods, such as ancient sculpture, medieval frescoes, classical painting and photography, and to make them interact with one another. øjeRum is also renowned for his work as a musician, where he stands out for his surreal, mysterious and poetic universe. His music and art are closely linked. These two sides of the artist's work are constantly intertwined.

In his øjeRum guise, he plucks and strums his treated acoustic instruments, sounding at times like church bells, at times like angelic harp, at time like drones, and suspends the listener in the magic of his melodies. With a deep back-catalogue of releases since 2014 - spanning labels such as eilean rec., Room40, Line, Opal Tapes and many more - he continues exploring his minimal, textural and deeply personal style of ambient music.

The collage and music project "Ensomheden Vi Deler" ("The Loneliness We Share") is an exploration of loneliness, closeness and distance. A meditation on the fragile architectures and hidden shapes of human connection. This is his second release on IIKKI.

Fine Art Book, Ltd. to 500 copies:
Hand numbered & hand stamped / first edition and only edition (no re-print) / hardcover book (15 cm x 21 cm) on Wibalin Natural Cotton White / 80 pages, 35 collages printed on Freelife Vellum 120g/m2 / Swiss Binding / Coloured edges with neon green pantone / Neon Green pantone on front and back cover (logo, slot and circle) / Sticker on front cover.

US ambient powerhouse and Past Inside the Present label head Zake is one of the most prolific producers in the game. He puts out new music more often than most of us put out wheelie bins. That doesn't stop him from revising what has come before, as he does here. Wash Away was made with Lucy Gooch and Black Brunswicker back in 2020 and now gets a series of subtle edits before being dropped on heavyweight wax. It is a mirage of vocal whispers, soft drones, and mindless (in a good way) musical daydreaming marbled with acoustic strings and backed with signature tape hiss. Yet another crucial work from Zake and co.

A meditative, folk-inflected score rooted in improvisation, ‘Dragon’s return’ echoes the soul of A film long buried behind the Iron Curtain



With Dragon’s Return, Australian composer and multi-instrumentalist Oren Ambarchi and Norwegian guitarist Fredrik Rasten present a new, meditative score to Eduard Grecner’s eponymous 1967 Slovak cult film — a stark, black-and-white parable.



The album captures a unique live performance recorded at the Videodroom Festival during Film Fest Ghent in October 2024, where this new score premiered alongside the film in collaboration with the Slovak Film Institute. What began as a fleeting, improvisational encounter between music and image has since taken on a life of its own — an evocative sound world that retains its power even in the absence of visuals.



The album will be available on vinyl and all digital platforms from September 12 via VIERNULVIER Records. The vinyl edition includes an obi strip, a booklet with film stills, and extensive liner notes on the film.



The label is known for shedding new light on forgotten films through reimagined soundtracks — claire rousay’s acclaimed The Bloody Lady being the most recent example.


“Folklore meets avant-garde in an ancient drama - a ballad about love, hate and finding a way out of loneliness” - Rastislav Steranka (Slovak Film Institute)



Ambarchi and Rasten do not accompany the images so much as speak through them. Their interplay — on guitars, flutes, percussion, and voice — unfolds slowly, without a fixed destination, culminating in subtle, entrancing drones. With few breaks or ruptures, this trippy, folk-inflected continuous composition invites surrender.



Rasten’s 12-string guitar and delicate use of voice create layered textures that shimmer and shift. Ambarchi, known for his electro-acoustic work, here explores a radically softer mode — strumming, bowing and coaxing tones from his instrument as though it were a string section unto itself. He blows into shells, adding breath and texture to the sonic palette, touching on something elemental.


Together, they evoke a sound world that feels both ritualistic and strangely familiar — as if echoing from a forgotten ceremony or dreamed into being after hearing an old folk tale. Rooted in improvisation, the music speaks in tones both intimate and expansive, shaped live in dialogue with the film and with each other, with only minimal overdubs added afterward.

American ambient powerhouse zake is back with a meditation on stillness, memory and the quiet power of seasonal change. Rooted in the Midwestern winter that inspires much of his work, his latest album Cantus for Winter in Six Parts unfolds in slow-moving analogue drones, soft hiss and faint environmental textures that are both intimate and expansive and true to his signature style. Each piece drifts gently into the next, evoking cracked wood, falling snow, distant strings and the eerie calm of frozen landscapes. By the time the 19-minute finale arrives, you are lost in a world of solitude and reflecting deeply on many things that will ultimately leave you feeling restored.

Written in the Scottish Highlands, recorded on the West Coast in Largs and pressed on vinyl in East Lothian. Rapture Party was mixed and mastered by Jason Shaw and Fuzz Face Studios and is released by Last Night From Glasgow. ; The Joshua Hotel are an indie- pop trio from Inverness led by producer Joshua Mackenzie with Louis Slorach on guitar/ drones and Joshua Gilbert on drums/ percussion. Single Easy Feeling is released on Friday 21 March.

Gong Gong Gong aus Peking und Mong Tong aus Taipeh sind gleichgesinnte Duos, die für ihre cineastischen und rohen Klänge bekannt sind und transglobale Melodien mit unwiderstehlichen Grooves verbinden. Auf Mongkok Duel haben sich die Bands zusammengetan, um einen imaginären Soundtrack für einen verlorenen Kung-Fu-Film zu kreieren. Es handelt sich zweifellos um die musikalische Untermalung einer übernatürlichen Geschichte über Ehre, Intrigen und (natürlich) Rache. ,Mongkok Duel" knüpft an die langjährige Rhythm 'n' Drone-Kollaborationsreihe von Gong Gong Gong an und präsentiert die unverwechselbare Ästhetik beider Gruppen, indem es eine gemeinsame Sprache aus zyklischen Motorik-Rhythmen, sich entwickelnden Drones, texturierten Soundeffekten, knurrenden Gitarren und growlenden Bass-Hooks aufbaut. Geschrieben und live aufgenommen in den legendären Proberäumen der President Piano Co. in Mongkok, Hongkong, spielten die Bands auf den Instrumenten und Verstärkern des Studios, die noch aus der Gründungszeit der President Piano Co. im Jahr 1978 stammen. Die Aufnahmetechnik des Studios ist ein einzigartiges System, das vom Eigentümer Lee King Yat entworfen und eingerichtet wurde und dem Album seinen unverwechselbaren Vintage-Sound verleiht, ohne dabei an beeindruckender Klarheit einzubüßen.

Kevin Sery is the ambient guitarist behind From Overseas and now returns with a brilliant follow-up and stylistic evolution of his 2020 debut, Home. This one was inspired by fatherhood and the artist's studies in environmental philosophy, which is why the eight luminous soundscapes feel both intimate and immense. Layers of shimmering guitar, airy drones and organic resonance add up to a sonic meditation on awe that cannot help but have a profound effect. From the cascading beauty of 'Appalaches' to the radiant calm of 'Infinite,' this is ambient music that is too emotional and cinematic to be simply left playing in the background. It's a contemplative heavyweight that demands and rewards your full attention.

Dieses spezielle Vinyl-Boxset enthält den kompletten Original-Soundtrack des Spiels sowie die DLC-Musik für Stir of Dawn und Wounds of Eventide. Der 4LP-Schuber in limitierter Auflage ist mit einem maßgeschneiderten Coverartwork von Diego Minguez sowie bedruckten Innenhüllen mit Artwork von Jesús Campos „Nerkin“ verziert.

Blasphemous präsentiert eine alptraumhafte Variante des mystischen Katholizismus und der gotischen Architektur der Heimatstadt von The Game Kitchen, Sevilla. Das angesehene Metroidvania-Spiel ist voll von verdrehter religiöser Ikonografie und esoterischer Symbolik. Die eindringliche Musik des Komponisten Carlos Viola ist untrennbar mit der einzigartigen Atmosphäre des Spiels verbunden. Er übersetzt Themen wie Leid, Schuld und Einsamkeit in eine tief emotionale Musik, die von der Tragödie zur Transzendenz drängt.

Der Soundtrack beschwört ein spezifisches Gefühl von Ort und Zeit herauf und schöpft aus den Traditionen der spanischen Folkgitarre, mittelalterlichen Chorälen und orchestralen Verzierungen, um eine Art okkulte Kammermusik zu schaffen. Geschmeidige Streicher und schwebender Gesang kreuzen Wellen kolossaler Drones, bevor sie wieder im Morast versinken. Hypnagogische Passagen pulsieren mit übernatürlicher Kraft, während klagende, beunruhigende Klavierstücke für Momente des Alleinseins inmitten des Gemetzels sorgen. Violas prächtige Kompositionen werden durch Beiträge der Instrumentalisten Sergio Carmona (Bass) und Manuel Soto "Noly" (Gitarre) sowie durch die mitreißenden Gesangseinlagen von Nadia Torres und Dolores Berg unterstützt.

Wie das Spiel selbst ist auch die Musik von Blasphemous beunruhigend und von Leid durchdrungen, aber dennoch seltsam schön und fesselnd. Schnappen Sie sich Ihr Schwert und Ihren Rosenkranz, bevor Sie eintauchen - Sie werden beides gebrauchen können.

Leviathan Whispers is an album of longings, laments, deliriums and drones, savage and sublime. Within are breaths, hums and bone songs for shadows and fl ames to dance to. Tim Hill is an inspirational fi gure within the UK arts, jazz, noise and improv world. A shapeshifting maverick exploring Britain's diverse musical traditions, from rough music to industrial folk, free jazz to dub, post-punk to avant-rock, incorporating ambient electronics, hymns and noise. Having worked with pioneering arts company Welfare State International, Tim’s performed inside Stonehenge, on the back of trucks at Notting Hill Carnival, leading giants through the streets of London, Dublin and Galway, at Olympic Torch events, celebratory feasts and leading humanist funerals. Tim is also festival director for The Sound of the Streets, a charity promoting outdoor music and musical director of the Wye Valley River Festival where he helps street bands across the country including The Big Noise in Taunton and Horns of Plenty in Oxford.

Leviathan Whispers is a spectral, contemplative selection of Tim's recorded work, including material created for art installations, outdoor projects, solo performances and personal meditations. Inspired by landscape and the eternal pull of Blake's Albion, baritone, alto and soprano saxophones are mixed with tape loops, old synths, recycled live recordings, woodwinds and reeds. Other sounds are processed by Colin Potter (Nurse With Wound) and drone artist Jonathan Coleclough. The album artwork and accompanying videos feature sound sculptures by Michael Fairfax (Royal Society of Sculptors) alongside unsettling visuals by fi lm-maker and junk-alchemist David Young. "an amazing player - there's a weight to his music with a wonderfully dark edge" Corey Mwamba / BBC Radio 3 Fans of Colin Stetson, John Surman, Anna Von Hausswolff , William Basinski and La Monte Young will fi nd much to savour on this new 12" LP. LAUNCH PARTY: we're holding a special launch event with a live performance and talk by Tim Hill on Saturday, 15th November inside a beautiful Victorian chapel beneath Royal Berks Hospital, Reading.

DarkSonicTales is a project by Rolf Gisler and his eponymous album his first for Hallow Ground. Having been granted an artist residency by the label in a 300 year-old farm house in the Swiss countryside in autumn 2019, the Lucerne-based musician and sound artist explored the peculiar sonic environment of the building and its surroundings through the use of field recordings, modular synthesizers, guitar, bass, kalimbas, a singing saw as well as self-built instruments. "DarkSonicTales" starts with kalimba sounds and field recordings, setting the stage for "Sonic Darkness"- a self-referential spoken word piece whose sinister jazz-like sound calls to mind Bohren & der Club of Gore. The following "Spring Feelings" contrasts insect sounds with harsh noise elements, elegiac drones and a throbbing rhythm. It's not quite what you'd expect from a piece with such a title, but the stories that Gisler tells throughout the record are more concerned with uncovering the hidden histories underneath what meets the eyes than (re-)creating idylls. The nine minute-long "I Still Believe" further underlines that by bringing together glistening synthesizer notes with industrial-like drones and field recordings that give it a palpable effect before Gisler unexpectedly changes course and quite literally bursts into song. Towards the end of "DarkSonicTales," the music becomes notably more minimalistic. Gisler experiments with the dynamics of modular drones on "Kind of Restless," juxtaposing birdsong and ominous electronic noises on "Best Buddies" before a mid-tempo beat emerges, making the record close on a decidedly hopeful note. These dark sonic tales, they have a happy ending. "DarkSonicTales" is an organic album in more than one sense of the word. Reacting to and reflecting the world around him as well as expressing his inner one, Gisler gives the sounds at the core of his multifaceted compositions space and lets them breathe. Working along stark contrasts and with surprising twists, he also shines a light on the atmospheric and emotional ambiguity of the world he encountered during his solitary artist residency-unearthing the hidden layers underneath what is perceivable.

As trans-Atlantic alchemists pulling from a shared dialectic that somehow encompassed both postmodern deconstructionist tendencies and a delightfully subversive sense of poptimism, it’s easy to see how David Cunningham and Peter Gordon immediately hit it off upon initially meeting each other back in the late-1970s at the height of their youthful transgressions. Having initially worked together on the second Flying Lizards’ LP fourth wall, with its ingenious fusion of dismantled rhythms and rearranged melodies juxtaposed against the slyly sultry singing of Snatch’s Patti Palladin— with Gordon adding a few sprinkles of mischievous sax in the mix— it’s no wonder the collaboration would lead to further musical adventures.

Which leads us directly to the genesis of The Yellow Box. Embarking on a collaborative exercise in the structural repurposing of music as untethered puzzle pieces in need of rearrangement with no predetermined outcomes, the duo gave birth to a project that would see them move through both time and recording studios across Europe, taking nearly two years from 1981-1983 to complete. Enlisting the great Anton Fier on drums from The Feelies/Lounge Lizards nexus and John Greaves on bass from Henry Cow/Soft Heap lore to round out their dueling creative counterparts, the album would be something of a lost treasure until its eventual release on Cunningham’s Piano imprint in 1996.

Cinematic in scope, and filled with drifting drones, beautiful counter-melodies, eery minimalism, Kraftwerkian synthesizers, looped voices, skronky interludes, and other shifting undercurrents of sound, it was an album that utilized both a diverse array of expressive languages, as well as early sampling techniques and prepared instruments, well before most people were thinking in such expansive, integrated terms at the dawn of the 80’s. But such is life at the vanguard of new music. And one of the reasons that it likely sat on the shelf for so long before finally being released well over a decade later. Like a sparser, less groove-oriented version of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, or a more radical take on the experimental work of Can’s Holger Czukay, The Yellow Box stands at the crossroads of time and technology, fusing multiple strands of musical thought and compositional techniques into a disjointed whole that somehow still comes off as a conceptually complete record.

Now, here it is again, over 40 years later, with perhaps even more historical resonance than it had before, remade and remodeled just waiting to be rediscovered again.

Soft Centre is the new album by Iko Chérie, the solo project of French-born, London-based multiinstrumentalist Marie Merlet. She blends dub-inflected textures, pop tinged vocals, reverbdrenched guitars, Casio drones, and warm experimental noises - creating her own intimate, fragile sound. Self-produced and largely performed by Merlet, the album grew from an introspective process, with many sketches recorded in transit between tours. The result is a deeply personal work, balancing light and dark in a Lynchian dream-pop haze. Songs such as We Smoke That Peace Pipe and Bilbao shimmer between vulnerability and resilience, while the single Ghosted Ghosters of the Holy G captures the immediacy of a one-take dub bass. Some pieces retain the quality of improvised snapshots (Intelligent Women, Half a Metaphor) while others reveal her meticulous production process and songwriting craft (Tears in the Sea, Luciférine). Merlet defines Soft Centre as alive in radical tenderness, unguarded, open, and vivid. Influenced by Clarice Lispector"s prose, Diane di Prima"s poetry and Rachel Carson"s environmentalist writing, as well as Marie"s fascination with a vintage Roland Space Echo, the album is an invitation to connection that she describes as "... hopefully a meditation into healing." A versatile musician trained in classical piano, jazz, and electroacoustic composition, Merlet has long moved between different worlds of sound. She has worked with Laetitia Sadier in Monade, performs with Gina Birch (The Raincoats), Malphino, Yama Warashi, and several other groups. She recently appeared as guest singer on the latest Stereolab album. Her debut solo LP, Dreaming On (Elefant Records, 2015), revealed her singular melodic instincts; with Soft Centre she ventures further inward, shaping her own distinctive voice in experimental pop.

Unfolding ist Jessica Moss' meditativstes und klagendstes Soloalbum und vielleicht das erste in der jahrzehntelangen Diskografie der Violinistin und Komponistin aus Montreal, das man zu Recht als Ambient bezeichnen kann. Die ehemalige Mitglied von Silver Mt Zion und Black Ox Orkestar schöpft aus Postklassik, Drone, Minimalismus, Industrial/Metal, Power Electronics, Klezmer und anderen Folk-Traditionen. Es handelt sich hierbei nicht um abstrakte Ambient-Musik; vielschichtige Violinenmelodien, elektroakustische Bearbeitungen, intermittierende Stimmen und Percussion von Tony Buck, dem Schlagzeuger von The Necks, bringen zutiefst emotionale, genreübergreifende Kompositionen hervor, die von einem Geist der Suche und Beschwörung geleitet sind und sich in einer vorherrschenden Atmosphäre von Beschwörung und trauernder Zurückhaltung entfalten. Die Untrennbarkeit von Persönlichem und Politischem hat sich für Moss in den letzten zwei Jahren immer stärker herauskristallisiert. Als Kernmitglied der Montrealer Sektion von Musicians For Palestine hat sie mehrere Benefizkonzerte mitorganisiert und gespielt und im Frühjahr 2024 das Soloalbum For UNRWA veröffentlicht (das über 800 Unterstützer fand und Tausende von Dollar einbrachte). Später im selben Jahr zerbrach ihre langjährige Fernbeziehung aufgrund politischer Differenzen. In enger Zusammenarbeit mit dem Produzenten Radwan Ghazi Moumneh (Jerusalem In My Heart) entstanden ,Unfolding" in den letzten zwölf Monaten, dem zweiten Jahr des Völkermords in Palästina, als direkte Reaktion auf unser kollektives Miterleben, unsere kollektive Trauer, als Portal zur kollektiven Trauer, als Suchscheinwerfer durch unsere inneren Wettersysteme, auf der Suche nach einander in der Dunkelheit. Moss bewegte sich bereits in Richtung einer erhöhten Fragilität und einem tiefen Zuhören, ihre Musik wurde zunehmend langatmig und zeremoniell. Trotz der stark gesunkenen finanziellen Rentabilität von Tourneen wurde ihre Hingabe, Raum zu schaffen, Verflechtungen herzustellen und eine Verbindung zu einem intimen Live-Publikum aufzubauen, zu ihrem kreativen Leitstern, ihre Solo-Praxis wurde durch ihr Engagement und die Kommunikation in diesen Räumen geprägt. Die jüngsten politischen und persönlichen Umwälzungen haben diese ritualisierten, reparativen musikalischen Prozesse nur noch verstärkt. Die beiden langen Stücke auf der ersten Seite von Unfolding verkörpern diese Sensibilität. ,Washing Machine" verwebt Schichten von Streicherdrones und Filigranarbeit, sanft verzerrt durch Verzerrerpedale und Verstärkung, wobei unentzifferbare, ausgeblasene Sprechstimmen den Mix zeitweise als fragmentarische Palimpseste verhüllter Rezitationen und unbeschreiblicher Gefühle umhüllen. Der Ursprung des Stücks liegt in einer Telefonaufnahme einer europäischen Waschmaschine, die Moss aufnahm, als sie neben ihr saß, mit gebrochenem Herzen auf dem Badezimmerboden, und Trost fand, indem sie eine Melodie zu den mechanischen Obertönen der Waschmaschine summte, die ihren Zyklus durchlief. Das Herzstück des Albums, ,One, Now", beginnt als zarte Anrufung mit Basspuls, Glockenspiel und Glocken, gezupften Saiten und traurigen Lead-Violinenlinien, die von jüdischen und arabischen Modi beeinflusst sind. Umgebungsgeräusche, Feldaufnahmen und wortlose Gesänge werden hinzugefügt, während sich Violinenmelodien überlagern und zu einer hypnotisierenden Drone-Landschaft verschmelzen: eine halb improvisierte, lebendige Komposition, die durch Tony Bucks pinselstrichartiges Schlagzeugspiel und Moumnehs ,Schrei in die Leere" am Ende noch weiter belebt wird. Die zweite Seite ist ein vierteiliges Werk mit dem Titel ,no one / no where / no one is free / until all are free", das sich durch Umgebungsgeräusche, elegische postklassische Streicher und verzerrte harmonische Drones zu einem Höhepunkt aus liturgischer Orgel, rituellen Glocken und schimmernden elektronischen Spuren entwickelt, der die Bühne bereitet für den letzten Song des Albums: die erschütternde Chor-Komposition ,until all are free", eine weltliche Hymne, die aus Jessicas mehrspurigen Gesangsaufnahmen besteht (die sie aber gerne mit anderen im Konzert singen würde). Unfolding ist ,einem freien Palästina in unserer Lebenszeit" gewidmet. Danke fürs Zuhören.

Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok’s »Uncontrollable Thoughts« on Morr Music is the duo’s debut joint release. The Netherlands-based Georgian composer and the German sound artist from Berlin first met in 2019 in the context of a workshop programme that took place in Tbilisi, and later worked with Eto Gelashvili, Hayk Karoyi, and Lillevan on the massive »Glacier Music II« music and book project, released in 2021. This led them to engage in a less conceptually driven form of musicking and real-time composition that corresponds with their respective environments. They draw on traditions such as minimal music or late 1990s and early 2000s electronica to integrate subtle beats with elegiac organ drones, playful melodies with lush textures. The first document of an ever-shifting intergenerational dialogue, »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is a product of mutual listening outside time.

Though Chkheidze and Lippok had access to professional studios, they chose to rent a simple rehearsal space, equipped with only the bare essentials—bass and guitar amps as well as a small PA—to maintain immediacy in their working process. The music they made together corresponded to and drew on the respective possibilities and shortcomings of this studio, much like their collaboration in general is characterised by the care with which they approach each other's talents and ideas. While both had loosely defined roles—Chkheidze was responsible for the free-flowing beat programming and the evocative distortion came courtesy of Lippok, for example—they individually contributed in different ways to their joint process, which is as free of hierarchies as it is limitless. Hence, the duo’s focus on spontaneity and out-of-the-moment emergence makes them organically move beyond tried and tested conventions, resulting in music that seems to suspend time altogether.

When the first chimes on »Bird Song« announce a piece that sets rattling kickdrums against a backdrop of layered drones and rhizomatically entangled melodic elements, it becomes clear why »Uncontrollable Thoughts« carries this title: The album follows the constant detours of the subconscious of its makers, letting them explore moments of ecstasy such as on »Rainbow,« melancholy with »Field,« and the interplay of suspense and release through the ten-minute-long title track. But the different pieces also tie into one aother in various ways. The dirge-like organ drones on which »Rainbow Road« ends reappear in the beginning of »Uncontrollable Thoughts,« much like Chkheidze’s gentle yet emphatic piano chords on »Field« seem to provide the starting point from which the artist develops the striking motifs of the final piece »Opening«, whose title itself suggests that the record as a whole can and should be enjoyed as a loop. All this creates a unique, idiosyncratic temporal logic.

While there is much that sets Chkheidze and Lippok apart as solo artists, the major shared leitmotif in their respective bodies of work is the sonic engagement with space. »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is hence best understood as an extension of this practice; as an album that maps the geographies of their minds in motion, tracing musical movements as they melt into each other.

Downwards present Alexander Tucker in metamorphosis from psych folk to techgnostic bard, aided by notable guests – Justin K Broadrick, Regis, Phew, Karl D’Silva, JJOWDY, and Elvin Brandhi – in a quest for disordered convention and new thrills. One up to Tucker’s outings for Alter and The Tapeworm, and spiritual successor to his »Nonexistant« trio on Downwards, »Clear Vortex Chamber« is an enigmatic take on the brownfield edgelands where the eldritch intersects electronic heck. Decades of work spread between hardcore punk, psych rock, folk, and drone — including work with Stephen O’Malley (Ginnungap) and Neil Campbell (Astral Social Club, ESP Kinetic) — feed forward into this album’s unsteady machine rhythms and cranky junkyard atonalities, where Tucker panel-beats aspects of his previous sound with a newfound industrial thrust and cyber-punky lust that suits him dead well.

A crafty example of how to mutate without losing sight of yourself, the album’s eight parts feel like a cyborg patching itself into modernity. On opener »Udug« Tucker’s signature falsetto peals from a A Scanner Darkly-style scramble suit of stereo-strobing electronics, setting a melodramatic, neo-gothic tension that riddles the album thru the knotted, fractured industrial dancehall bullishness of »Mallets« with Yeah You’s feral gob Elvin Brandhi, via a pair of standout »Fedbck« parts with Tucker’s personal idol, Justin K Broadrick (Godflesh, Jesu, and the rest), featuring the Brum deity’s claw-handed riffs and howl on the first, and smeared with Karl D’Silva’s brass in its noctilucent second part.

Regis also proves a staunch foil for the album’s most robust, club-ready cut »Zona«, hammered out from buzzing metallic drums and monotone bass drones, and pitting his severed vox against Tucker’s own androgynous harmonies to recall aspects of The Ephemeron Loop via British Murder Boys, whilst scene legend, Can and Ryuichi Sakamoto spar Phew (aka Aunt Sally) ideally tempers the flow in a relatively soothing »Sansu«, sharing more cyber-romantic, recombinant sentiments with the channelling of Robert Wyatt gone Funk Bruxaria on »Folded«.

The Sator Arepo, or Sator Square, is an ancient word puzzle comprising five palindromes that's etched on various historical sites throughout the Western world. Its origins are unknown, but the square has long been thought to hold magical properties, used as a charm against illness and evil, to cure insanity or to determine whether someone was guilty of witchcraft. Self-styled "punk ethnomusicologist", acoustician and musician Julien Hairon uses this mystical symbol as the starting point for his debut Judgitzu album in an attempt to reconnect with his Celtic heritage, exploring how its hallowed messages might harmonize with contemporary Tanzanian dance music.Hairon has been traveling across the world for over a decade, collecting field recordings from countries such as Indonesia, Australia, Cambodia, China and Bangladesh, and presenting them on his Les Cartes Postales Sonores label, re-issuing any curious cassettes and CDs he came across on the PetPets' TAPES imprint. It was during this time that he became fascinated by rituals that involved spirits, prompting him to examine his own ancestry when he returned to Brittany. "Many artifacts in the landscape remain," Hairon explains, "and the power of spirits is still palpable." He represents this Celtic mysticism on 'Sator Arepo' with murky drones and magickal synth tones, using xenharmonic scales (tuning outside of standard 12-tone equal temperament) that reach back to the ancient world. These sounds are augmented with fast-paced, sci-fi rhythms informed by his time in Tanzania; "Singeli has contaminated me," admits the producer.The most astonishing example of this is 'Miracle', a thrusting soundsystem experiment that layers serpentine, bagpipe-esque electronic wails over extravagant clusters of blocky percussion. Driven by the frenetic 175BPM pulse that echoes through the streets of Dar Es Salaam - popularized globally by forward-thinking producers like Sisso, Duke and Jay Mitta - Hairon opens up a rare conversation, seeking to draw parallels between today's most urgent dance forms and the archaic rituals of antiquity. On 'Vitalimetre', Hairon drives his sonic palette into the red, harmonizing with Dutch hardstyle and gabber, and splaying distorted drones over maddeningly blown-out kicks and ratcheting percussion. 'L'or Des Fous' takes a more meditative route, prioritizing Hairon's eccentric tonality with expressive sheets of pitch-warped sound that ghost walk across energized, rattling beats.If you heard Hairon's last Judgitzu release 'Umeme / Kelele', described by Boomkat as "one of 2019's deadliest dancefloor sessions," then you'll know how mindboggling this material can be. And with 'Sator Arepo', the French producer deepens his reach, grasping a world that we've almost forgotten and juxtaposing it with a landscape most of us barely comprehend.

Skin/Glove is the second LP by Belgian musician Mathieu Serruys, following the release of his B.A.A.D.M. debut On Germaine Dulac back in 2014. Compiled over the course of a fortnight, the record features material recorded over the past five years: creaks of ice buckling under heat, thick hums like nauseating headaches, plumes of evaporated organ hymns, frostbitten crackles of dying tape loops. These disparate sources are unified by the pervasive corrosion of pain and time, which presses into the surface of every sonic object. Melodies splinter under the strain of being pulled apart; drones tremble under the gathering gravity of fatigue; dissonances flicker like candles on the brink of extinguishment. Yet despite the emotional density of the material itself, the process of composition provides a route toward comprehending how these sounds and experiences are connected. Skin/Glove reads as a constellatory map of adversity and grief, beautifully coalesced through the cathartic distance of retrospect, haunted by the sibilant whispers of distinct memories in dialogue, latticed by lesions that fatefully and poignantly intersect.

When the veil of perception thins, the unreal seeps in.Sound becomes fracture. Time loses structure.There is no intent, only resonance.No creator, only presence.No truth, only the dream.Dense drones, structural minimalism, and time-stretched loops converge to dissolve linearity and summon trance

Following the reissue of their acclaimed debut album in July - Rocket Girl Records is proud to announce the second transmission in the triptych of releases from Welsh sonic alchemists, White Noise Sound (WNS): an exultant, transmutational remix album celebrating the band’s admired self-titled inaugural LP featuring Pete Kember/Sonic Boom, Cian Ciaran (Super Furry Animals), Phil Kieran (techno producer/DJ), Sean Johnson (Hardway Bros) and Timothy J Fairplay (Andrew Weatherall’s Scrutton Street Circle).

WNS’s cult 2010 self-titled debut saw the band channelling their own chimeric wall-of-sound - an incantation in layers of feedback, kosmische rhythms and celestial distortion.  Now, that spell is rewritten.

Fold In Time - WNS1 Remixed sees an extraordinary line-up of artists from across the psychedelic and electronic spectrums dive deep into the band’s original recordings, dynamically reimagining the sonic architecture - unearthing new forms, hidden frequencies and arcane resonances.

Furthering the mythology of an album revered in underground circles - by peers and critics alike - these remixes push the band’s hypnotic, feedback-soaked sound into entirely new dimensions.  Expect deep psych, repetitive beats, acid purity, expansive dubbed-out landscapes and spectral ambient drones.  Tracks collapse and re-emerge, shimmering with new light.

“We wanted to honour the spirit of the original album while inviting some of our favourite artists to completely destroy it,” says White Noise Sound’s Adam Tovey.

Perfect Location Records in partnership with the one and only Ear Candy Music is proud to announce 00-04, a compilation of early works by Bevan Smith aka Signer, New Zealand’s most prominent name in ambient electronica and dub techno.

Smith has been producing emotive chords, pop ambience, and thick dub-ospheres since before the turn of the century. His output is prolific, ranging from various solo monikers (Aspen, Introverted Dancefloor) and collaborations (Skallander, Feeling Flying) to unique projects (Touching the Void soundtrack, Isolated Dreams’ 24 EPs and counting). A rare artist with indie crossover appeal thanks to the 2004 Signer album The New Face of Smiling released on Carpark Records (Toro Y Moi, Beach House, Dan Deacon, Montag), Smith has played as a member of bands such as The Ruby Suns (Sub Pop), Over the Atlantic (Involve), and Glass Vaults (JUKBOXR).

Encompassing field recordings and evoking a cloudy coastal sky, 00-04 is a collection of mostly unheard material written in the early 2000s as Smith navigated the chaos and stress of living in London just after 9/11. A portion of this release may be recognisable to those familiar with the Involve catalog––“Drone Early,” for example, is an alternative version to the dub giant “1201A”––and to those acquainted with Signer’s 2002 Low Light Dreams (Carpark/Involve), an iconic album composed of processed guitar, dub-influenced bass, and synth drones; as if that doesn’t sound appealing enough, Low Light Dreams is home to “Building Memories Without You,” an unforgettably engulfing track featured on Fact Magazine’s 25 Best Dub Techno Tracks of All Time.

00-04 is a (re)issue both nostalgic and new, familiar yet unknown, fresh out of the archive. It possesses the Low Light Dreams aural palette while offering a carefully curated array of never before heard icy-cold moods, soothing minimalism, and shyly optimistic melodies, all glazed with recently finalized additions.

In syrupy slow pursuit of a strong 2023 debut, Yungwebster's somnolent sequel is bolstered by pitch-perfect production from Space Afrika and Nathan Melja, who vaporise the rapper's auto-tuned post-Future drawl with euphoric orchestral drones, brittle micro-trap beats and weightless pads.

Over a decade ago at this point, Future released 'Codeine Crazy', the decelerated finale of 'Monster', one of his best-loved mixtapes. The track neatly summarised themes the Atlanta rapper had been circling for years at that point, layering his slurred, lean-dizzy rhymes over producer TM88's rubbery, melancholy synths. "Take all my problems and drink out the bottle," he moaned robotically, using the track's minor key bounce to represent the crushing delirium that followed fame and its tasting menu of intoxicants. It's still Future's high water mark creatively, and its traces can be observed in a full spectrum of contemporary sounds, from 6LACK's downtrodden, self-aware R&B to Lil Uzi Vert's feverish trap. But it's Yungwebster who's taken the haze to its logical conclusion, reimagining the Magic City-sculpted bumps as hypnagogic Actavis- 'n Xanax-hued ambient music. You could argue it was bound to happen - the more you sip, the slower it gets - and plays as a cracked mirror to cloud rap's long-smoked hybrid of Southern psychedelia and post-OutKast eccentricity.

Webster's opiated POV is clearer than ever before on 'II'. Just peep the cracks in his voice on the Space Afrika-produced opener 'Skyfall' as he coughs and splutters over watery samples, booming subs and SA's patented collage of soundtrack-ready strings and sirens. Presented at regular speed and in chipmunked form, it sets the pace for an album that, like its predecessor, constantly fucks with the timeline, pitching the whole master into doubletime or slowing it down to a crawl to present a curved, inebriated narrative rather than a straight line. Even without the tempo switches, Webster singles out beats that accent his warbled rhymes that sound as if they'll fall apart at any moment. French DJ and producer Nathan Melja backs 'Disheveled' with Black Ark-styled oscillations and airlock'd echoes, filtering the bassline until it almost disappears entirely; with room to breathe, Webster's able to take the lead - you might not be able to pick out the words, not entirely at least, but you get the message.

In fact it's Webster's voice that's the revelation on 'II' - with a coherent mix from producer tnotsobad, the nuances and fluttering tonalities emerge more vividly than they have before. It makes the flip between the regular speed and fast on 'Txts Red on iMessage' a textural decision, the different pace shifting the warbled cadences so Webster's voice becomes far more important than the additional elements. And on the album's Space Afrika-produced eight-minute centerpiece 'Crochet / I Swear', Webster's mumbled bio-mechanical whines create a much-needed foil for the decelerated boom-clack and suspended save room ambience. We get to encounter a personality here, not just an aesthetic, so as the album moves into its twilit fourth side, the beatless, voice-led somniferousness of 'YA SA' and ululating 'Phone' come off like a descent into tranquillised sedation. Rap has rarely sounded so chimeric.

Litania is a doom/hindustan psych band from Italy and Serbia. The sound is based on drones, heavy riffing and inspired by ancient hindustan singing and playing (with instruments such as Sitar, Dilruba and Harmonium). Litania is also the title of our first album, eight tracks of evocative, hypnotic doom, where the raw power of guitars merges with the spiritual depth of Indian classical music. The songs, intense and dark, are interspersed with instrumental passages featuring sitar, dilruba, harmonium, and tanpura. The vocals, deep and ritualistic, draw inspiration from ancient Indian Ragas, evoking a sonic journey suspended between abyss and transcendence.

Red vinyl. Litania is a doom/hindustan psych band from Italy and Serbia. The sound is based on drones, heavy riffing and inspired by ancient hindustan singing and playing (with instruments such as Sitar, Dilruba and Harmonium). Litania is also the title of our first album, eight tracks of evocative, hypnotic doom, where the raw power of guitars merges with the spiritual depth of Indian classical music. The songs, intense and dark, are interspersed with instrumental passages featuring sitar, dilruba, harmonium, and tanpura. The vocals, deep and ritualistic, draw inspiration from ancient Indian Ragas, evoking a sonic journey suspended between abyss and transcendence.

Harmony marches eastward with its 21st EP, reconnecting with its roots through a collaboration with Kohra and Monophonik. While firmly grounded in the label’s deep-techno foundations, this release leans into a sharper focus on functional, dance oriented grooves and basslines.

A-side is opening with weight and intent, shedding the EP’s melancholic hues for something darker and more forceful. The gently broken spirit of “Uyire” follows, gliding between drones and gated vocals, stitched together by tactile percussion and an underlying volatility.

“Wavefolding Dreams” lives up to its name—wickedly modulated waveforms rise from a slapping bassline that pour like upside-down rain, finally dissolving into soothing, dreamy pads.

“Eastern Timbers” starts B-side with a deep, driving momentum. Trancey basslines and swinging arpeggios ebb and flow with tidal pads, wrapping the EP in a hypnotic finish that pulses with forward energy.

Decompress with “Neuroresonance” situated on the inner ring of the B-side. Suspenseful sliding drones in a wide stereo field and a sustained chord that breathes nostalgia, covered by a playful filter in motion.

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

Honour's debut album is a ligament stretching from Lagos to London and to New York, curling across the diaspora and brushing the darker hues of blues, hip-hop, free jazz, ambient, gospel with Christian mythology and Yoruba folklore. As cinematic as it is painterly, Alàáfíà is a meditation on themes of life, death and love that pulls inspiration from the unexpected poetic profundity of casual conversations, field recordings, literature, ephemera, or personal archives. The result is an impressionistic vision in Black and Blur that both exhausts and implicates language_substantiating a mythos proposed by Fred Moten that sublimates boundaries between everywhere and nowhere; history and the present; the individual and the universal. Alàáfíà delineates a gothic landscape cut by overdriven beats, swooping orchestral blasts, choral bursts and ear- splitting fuzz, where the fleshly and spiritual realms commune. Dedicated to Honour's late grandmother, the title track began to take form after their last embrace and remains steeped in her influence and spirit_a tape-saturated composition that starts in Lagos and ends in London's smoke-stained cityscape, the song's dream-like quality developed out of the artist's grief and PTSD coping with this loss. Beneath the stretched guitar drones and stuttering loops, their grandmother's shared faith bubbles to the surface. "When Angels Speak of Love," borrows its title from two works by Sun Ra and bell hooks, respectively. Sculpting echoes of praise music into disorienting spirals perforated with syrupy DJ Screw-inspired breaks and sharp splinters of melancholic guitar, "When Angels Speak of Love" engages a conceptual dialogue with the spirits of both late thinkers, folding them into Honour's pantheon of ancestral guides. The album's ninth track, "Giz Aard ($uckets)," is a dirge of regimented drums which anchor this somber melody as it whirls into a blizzard of heartache, uncertain if its consequence will be death or eternal joy. The album's sole lyrical offering, "Pistol Poem (Lead Belly)," begins with a darkly humorous bar, "He went thru hell and back/ came back/ 2 get the strap," that swells into a haunting allegory based on the life of Philip "Hot Sauce" Champion. A modern take on the Blues, Honour's lyrics reify the artist's status as a student of both literature and popular culture, crossbreeding the artist's clever wordplay with additional references to Richard Pryor, Robert Johnson, Kelly Rowland & Bryon Gysin. Setting core principles of hip-hop, R&B, jazz and gospel music to atemporal soundscapes and compositions, Honour crafts a record that marinates in its own knotty contradictions. The ghosts that sit on the artist's shoulders have never been more tangible than with this emotive debut.

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

»Downriver« unfolds like a dérive through obscured geographies, echoing the psychogeographic journeys of Iain Sinclair. Just as Sinclair’s writing blurs the tangible and the imagined, Sequences, the project of Antwerp-based artist Niels Geybels, drifts into spaces where memory and environment overlap. Single-take recordings stretch into slowly mutating drones, fractured textures, and ghostlike voices that seem to seep in from unseen thresholds. The atmosphere is one of decayed grandeur, evoking disused monuments, neglected warehouses, and corners of the landscape where centuries of history accumulate beneath the surface.

This is music shaped by wandering without a map: a patchwork of distortion, hidden detail, and abrupt rupture. The sense of time loosens, the everyday unravels, and new contours emerge out of drift and delay. Downriver situates itself between sound art and environmental music, drawing listeners into liminal zones where place becomes porous, haunted by what has been and what might yet be.

Written and recorded by Niels Geybels Mastered by Jacob Calland

With »Roto«, Derek Piotr revisits the aqueous terrain first explored in his 2016 album »Drono«, where the paradox of water’s stillness and perpetual motion was refracted into looping voices and glitching textures. Conceived as a »spiritual successor« and recorded in 2019, the album has lain dormant for six years before surfacing on Discreet Archive. That stretch of silence seems to have deepened its charge – the sound feels unearthed rather than made, like a whirlpool biding its time in obscurity until now.

Unlike »Drono«’s mosaic of shorter pieces, »Roto« unfurls as two expansive half-hour tracks, allowing Piotr to probe repetition with greater intensity. Vowels accumulate until they shimmer with alien sentience, drones grow dense and psychoacoustic, and the smallest digital artifacts flicker like neural sparks. The result is a work that denies familiarity; recurrence here only breeds strangeness, unspooling into a procession of hidden pulses and altered voices that resist prediction, drawing the listener deeper into a submerged, otherworldly space.

Derek Piotr is a folklorist, researcher and performer whose work focuses primarily on the human voice. His work covers practices including fieldwork, vocal performance, preservation and autoethnography; and is primarily concerned with tenderness, fragility, beauty and brutality. He has collaborated with artists including Scott Solter, Nathan Salsburg and Thomas Brinkmann across various disciplines.

He is lead archivist and creative director of the Fieldwork Archive.

Auf Jestures, dem weitläufigen neuen Album von Atmosphere, taucht Slug tief in die Komplexität des Lebens ein und konfrontiert uns mit den unerwarteten Reibungspunkten des häuslichen Alltags und der Stabilität im mittleren Lebensalter. Längst hat er den Glauben hinter sich gelassen, dass große Kunst großen Schmerz erfordert, und stellt die Vorstellung in Frage, dass Kreativität aus Traumata entstehen muss. Stattdessen erkundet ihr fünftes Album der 2020er Jahre eine andere Art von Spannung - eine, die in Reflexion, Verantwortung und den stillen Offenbarungen des Alltags verwurzelt ist. Das Ergebnis ist ein Album, das persönliche Entwicklung einfängt, ohne die Vergangenheit zu romantisieren oder die Zukunft zu fürchten. Das Format des Albums ist ebenso ambitioniert wie seine Themen: 26 Songs, die jeweils mit einem anderen Buchstaben des Alphabets beginnen und in der Reihenfolge von A bis Z angeordnet sind. Selbst die Gastbeiträge folgen diesem Muster - Evidence ist auf ,Effortless" zu hören, Kurious auf ,Kilowatts" und Musab, Muja Messiah und Mike the Martyr alle auf ,Mash". Die Trackliste mag zwar umfangreich erscheinen, doch viele dieser Songs sind überraschend kurz - oft nur ein oder zwei Strophen - und vermitteln ihre Kernaussagen mit chirurgischer Präzision. Der Effekt ist ein kuratiertes, fließendes Mosaik, das einen vollständigen emotionalen und kreativen Bogen spannt, ohne sich in die Länge zu ziehen. Jestures ist mehr als eine Retrospektive, es ist eine Meditation über Bewegung und Bedeutung - darüber, wie die Zeit uns prägt und wie selbst Alltägliches transformativ sein kann. Slug verbindet Vergangenheit und Gegenwart mit Leichtigkeit und verweist auf ikonische Atmosphere-Sounds, während er sich mit sich entwickelnden Beziehungen, Erinnerungen und Selbstbewusstsein auseinandersetzt. Ants reichhaltige Produktion bietet den perfekten Hintergrund und wechselt zwischen Electro-Glitch, düsteren Drones und verspieltem Twang. Im Kern ist Jestures eine Geschichte des Fortschritts, die auf eine Zukunft hinarbeitet, die von Widerstandsfähigkeit und kreativer Klarheit geprägt ist.

Auf Jestures, dem weitläufigen neuen Album von Atmosphere, taucht Slug tief in die Komplexität des Lebens ein und konfrontiert uns mit den unerwarteten Reibungspunkten des häuslichen Alltags und der Stabilität im mittleren Lebensalter. Längst hat er den Glauben hinter sich gelassen, dass große Kunst großen Schmerz erfordert, und stellt die Vorstellung in Frage, dass Kreativität aus Traumata entstehen muss. Stattdessen erkundet ihr fünftes Album der 2020er Jahre eine andere Art von Spannung - eine, die in Reflexion, Verantwortung und den stillen Offenbarungen des Alltags verwurzelt ist. Das Ergebnis ist ein Album, das persönliche Entwicklung einfängt, ohne die Vergangenheit zu romantisieren oder die Zukunft zu fürchten. Das Format des Albums ist ebenso ambitioniert wie seine Themen: 26 Songs, die jeweils mit einem anderen Buchstaben des Alphabets beginnen und in der Reihenfolge von A bis Z angeordnet sind. Selbst die Gastbeiträge folgen diesem Muster - Evidence ist auf ,Effortless" zu hören, Kurious auf ,Kilowatts" und Musab, Muja Messiah und Mike the Martyr alle auf ,Mash". Die Trackliste mag zwar umfangreich erscheinen, doch viele dieser Songs sind überraschend kurz - oft nur ein oder zwei Strophen - und vermitteln ihre Kernaussagen mit chirurgischer Präzision. Der Effekt ist ein kuratiertes, fließendes Mosaik, das einen vollständigen emotionalen und kreativen Bogen spannt, ohne sich in die Länge zu ziehen. Jestures ist mehr als eine Retrospektive, es ist eine Meditation über Bewegung und Bedeutung - darüber, wie die Zeit uns prägt und wie selbst Alltägliches transformativ sein kann. Slug verbindet Vergangenheit und Gegenwart mit Leichtigkeit und verweist auf ikonische Atmosphere-Sounds, während er sich mit sich entwickelnden Beziehungen, Erinnerungen und Selbstbewusstsein auseinandersetzt. Ants reichhaltige Produktion bietet den perfekten Hintergrund und wechselt zwischen Electro-Glitch, düsteren Drones und verspieltem Twang. Im Kern ist Jestures eine Geschichte des Fortschritts, die auf eine Zukunft hinarbeitet, die von Widerstandsfähigkeit und kreativer Klarheit geprägt ist.

"The Golden Age of Wireless is the debut album by English musician Thomas Dolby. The album was originally released in May 1982. Several tracks have a submerged, barely audible layer of almost random sound that serves as a constant (and disturbing) subtext, occasionally erupting into a song. This sonic underworld is all part of Dolby's mechanical wizardry. Rolling Stone magazine awarded The Golden Age of Wireless four stars out of five, calling it ""one of the most impressive debuts"" of 1982. They compared the album's melodicism to the works of Paul McCartney and concluded that ""unlike many synthesizer bands from England, Dolby eschews morbid, droogy drones."" Musician magazine said the album was ""the best damned record to come out of Europe's current fascination with synth-pop. Period."" Theye added, ""Dolby is purely amazing. And best of all, he writes songs.""

The Golden Age Of Wireless is available as a limited edition of 1000 individually numbered copies on silver coloured vinyl and includes an insert. "

Die genreübergreifenden Tropical Fuck Storm präsentieren ihr mit Spannung erwartetes viertes Album "Fairyland Codex" auf ihrem neuen Label Fire Records. Aufgenommen mit Co-Produzent Michael Beach im Dodgy Brothers Studio der Band in Nagambie, Australien, lassen uns die Songs auf "Fairyland Codex" in das Chaos eines schicksalhaften Erdrutsches eintauchen und die Charaktere herauspicken, die den drohenden Zusammenbruch der Gesellschaft besudeln. Sauer, bissig, anarchisch: Tropical Fuck Storm beherrschen das Wortspiel, das durch knurrende Gitarren, pulsierende Rhythmen und explosive Salven unterstrichen wird, und bevölkern ein Hinterland zwischen Licht und Dunkelheit. Das stimmliche Zusammenspiel zwischen Liddiard und den hochfliegenden Harmonien von Kitschin und Dunn schafft einen schwankenden Balanceakt, der durch die verzweifelten Erzählungen, die sich aus ihrer kollektiven Psyche entwickeln, noch verstärkt wird. Tropical Fuck Storm entstand, als The Drones - die vorherige Band von Gitarrist und Sänger Gareth Liddiard und Bassistin und Sängerin Fiona Kitschin - 2016 in eine Pause ging. Zusammen mit der Gitarristin, Keyboarderin und Sängerin Erica Dunn und der Schlagzeugerin Lauren Hammel hat die Gruppe eine Reihe von der Kritik gefeierten Alben veröffentlicht und sich einen Ruf für ihre aufrüttelnden Live-Shows erworben. Magenta farbenes Vinyl.

Gastr del Sol"s second album returns at last to the vinyl format - its first physical manifestation in well over a decade. Once again, a drop of the needle may ignite any number of queries, summed simply in one: What IS this music? Such is the potent energy of Crookt, Crackt, or Fly, retaining its otherworldly qualities some 32 years and countless musical movements since. Crookt, Crackt, or Fly expands upon The Serpentine Similar"s minimalist stance in unexpected ways, imposing further austerity in the soundscape but for an unpredictable expansive quantity periodically overflowing, waves of blood sluicing through the elevator doors. This is partially due to a change within the group dynamic: the departure of bassist Ken "Bundy" Brown and the arrival of a new partner for guitarist and singer David Grubbs - guitarist and sound fuckerer Jim O"Rourke. O"Rourke"s initial work with Gastr involved editing and recomposing recordings of the Grubbs-Brown-&-sometimes-John-McEntire lineup, producing an utterly outré collage of cut-ups and other types of tape processing. This became the "20 Songs Less" single, after which he was invited to play with the group. It was a time of flux; Brown recalls playing a Gastr show at the Metro around this time featuring himself, John McEntire, Grubbs and O"Rourke - and one of the pieces played was a Tortoise song! Throughout these shifts, Gastr del Sol"s music was never less than fully considered and composed, even in moments redolent with the suggestion of the random and the non-sequitur. Grubbs and O"Rourke made no attempt to replicate Serpentine"s arrangement of thick, scaly drones and hypnotic song-visions in their own partnership, finding Crookt, Crackt,"s sound instead in spiny, gamelan-like interactions between their (mostly acoustic) guitars, played precisely in and out of formation with bright, fleet-fingered abandon. O"Rourke"s fondness for field recordings and his capacity for tape manipulation intersected with Grubbs" sensibilities, edifying his evolving song style: written with increased sharpness and sly surreal humor, sung closer to silence. Halfway into "Work from Smoke", the sudden collapse of the sound-walls around us signals Crookt, Crackt"s major departure. From the thicket of guitars, a swell of drones and free-jazz squeals, made up of bass clarinet, vibraphone and organ, pulls the listener into an entirely other acoustic space. "Every Five Miles" derails in similarly tactile fashion: a guitar duet boils up thunderously, then fragments and spirals apart. As a free electric guitar part crops up, improbably holding the center, the acoustic space around it continues to disintegrate in ambient stereo. A wedding of folk music idioms to classical, improvised and modern compositional modes (including Gastr"s own formative post-punk mode), Crookt, Crackt, or Fly is a song-based reality steadily giving way to its alternative alchemies playing out within.

Les Dunes is an alternative band from Haugesund, Norway. Consisting of members from bands like The Low Frequency in Stereo, Undergrünnen, Lumen Drones, Helldorado and Action & Tension & Space. The band consists of Per Andreas Haftorsen on guitar, Morten Jackman on drums and Per Steinar Lie on bass. The result reminds of the fantastic slow-core era bands of the 90ies, like Codeine who create their own version of Explosions In The Sky songs or like Per Steinar Lie claims "it feels like the vibe of the early days of The Low Frequency in Stereo". The music is rooted in a thought of a long freeway drive at night where time stops and the mind flows.

36 and Past Inside The Present label head Zake return to their Stasis Sounds For Long Distance Space Travel project which is music designed not for the distracted world we inhabit, but for the still moments we so often neglect. Crafted with intention and restraint, it is a universe that suspends the listener in time across glacial soundscapes in which the duo conjures a sense of cosmic awe. Soft, slow-moving drones and textural washes drift like solar winds through the vacuum, suggesting the boundless calm of deep space. The production is rich, gentle with tonal shifts and barely-there harmonics that evoke both distance and intimacy, wonder and melancholy. It feels like music beamed in from the edges of the known universe. If you fancy a contemplative journey from the edge of Earth's thermosphere into the unknowable beyond, tune into Stasis Sounds on your best headphones.

Turnend Tapes is back with some superb cuts from Swiss duo Le Lab Registered. These have only previously been available on CD having dropped back in 2006 and are indicative of their experimental, rule-breaking techno sound which is full of life and imagination. 'The Pitch' kicks off with rugged drums and haunting synth notes, 'Radio Tirana' then layers spoken words into eerie synth modulations and moody drones and 'CB Music' is a slithering and minimal sound with retro-future chords. 'Broadcast All Electronic' shuts down with another wiry arrangement, bleeps, squeaks and the sound of muffled vocals and radio interference all adding an occult edge.

Featuring waves of neon synths, pristine machine funk, scorched ambient drones, gnarled bass lines, playful radiophonics & industrial percussion, this thrilling selection of obscure 1980's electronica is compiled by Zyklus (Alan Gubby / Revbjelde) and presented on 10" white vinyl. "On a teaching placement during the pandemic, I found a dusty cupboard above our college theatre holding 200+ library music CDs. Most of the discs were from the Arcadia Cosmos library, a prolific production house active during the late 1980s and early 1990s. I spent the next few weeks working through the discs and found several interesting electronic pieces although, pseudonym or not, I didn't recognise any of the composers involved. Further research kept leading to dead ends with Arcadia's owners having long vacated their last known address and web links either broken or abandoned. So more questions than answers remain about the library's provenance. For instance, who was / is the brilliantly named David Beast? Did Kraftwerk engage trans-european lawyers after hearing Endurance Test? Was Sylvia Sommer deliberately channelling vintage 1960's radiophonics by John Baker? What studio gear was used to create the distinctive Arcadia sound? And, for what appears to have been a UK-based company, why are so many of the album titles, tracks and composer names distinctly Germanic? If anyone has the answers please get in touch." Zyklus / Winter 2024

The album opens with "Hypnagogia," an ode to the space between sleep and wakefulness where we are open to other realms of consciousness. The song slowly builds along a steady pulse provided by bassist Pickle (Nicole Smith) and drummer Rikki Styxx. Tripped out saxophone bleats from guest player Gabe Flores swirl on top of the organ drones laid out by guest keyboardist Gregg Foreman. The band's choral objectives for Under the Spell of Joy are established right off the bat, with Bonnie Bloomgarden's melodic invocations bolstered by a choir, giving the album a rich and vibrant wall-of-sound aesthetic. The song ominously builds on its hypnotic foundation until it opens up into a raucous revelry at the four-minute mark. The portentous simmer of the opening track yields to the ecstatic rocker "Hold My Hand," where verses reminiscent of Velvet Underground's "I'm Waiting For The Man" explode into big triumphant choruses. From there the band launches into the title track, which marries the griminess of The Stooges with an innocence provided by a children's choir chanting the album's primary mantra "under the spell of joy / under the spell of love." Death Valley Girls have always vacillated between lightness and darkness, and on "Bliss Out" they demonstrate their current exuberant focus with a patina-hued pop song driven by an irrepressibly buoyant organ line laid down by keyboardist The Kid (Laura Kelsey). A similar cosmic euphoria is obtained on "The Universe," where alternating chords on the organ help elevate soaring saxophone and keyboard lines out beyond the stratosphere. If you're looking for transcendental rock music, look no further.

Mayssa Jallad is a Beirut-based bilingual singer-songwriter, architectural researcher and teacher. Her work deals with the highly personal as well as the political, as with her first solo album "Marjaa: The Battle of the Hotels", which explores the histories of urban battles that occurred before she was born, during the Lebanese Civil War, through a collaborative musical and architectural lens. "(Marjaa) is, as one might expect, a sombre affair largely comprised of Jallad's delicate vocals backed by acoustic guitar and ethereal synthesizer. Elsewhere, co-composer and producer Fadi Tabbal adds the crackle of distant artillery and a ghostly wind between the high-rise blocks." - Daniel Spicer, Songlines, April 2023 "Historical trauma, strings, drones, metallophones and buzuks wrap around powerful stories and gossamer vocals on Lebanese singer's tender, intimate debut. With shades of Nico, Jarboe and Elizabeth Fraser, '80s' 4AD fans will rejoice." - Andy Cowan, MOJO `Marjaa_' (tr. `reference') combined Mayssa Jallad's two main vocations: music and urban research/architectural history. The album was co-written with Fadi Tabbal and based on Mayssa's Historic Preservation master's thesis (`Beirut's Civil War Hotel District: Preserving the World's First High-Rise Urban Battlefield'). The thesis examined a 5-month conflict that took place within Beirut's skyscraper-laden luxury hotel district of Minet El Husn near the start of the Lebanese Civil War. Addressing a post-war generation who have never been taught this difficult history, `Marjaa_' was an attempt to process trauma, and "a call to protest for the renewal, rather than the recycling of the political class that once destroyed the country and holds us, to this day, hostage of its violence". In 2013, Mayssa founded indie-pop band Safar with guitarist Elie Abdelnour, releasing debut album In Transit with Lebanese indie label Ruptured in 2017, and follow-up EP Studies of an Unknown Lover in 2019. Both albums were produced by Lebanese producer Fadi Tabbal at Tunefork Studios in Beirut. Mayssa's most recent multi-genre collaborations include "Madina min Baeed" (2022) with electronic musician/producer Khaled Allaf; "Bi Kheir" and "Fil Aatma" (2022) with indie supergroup Baada Ab (Dani Shukri, Ezra Tenenbaum and Omaya Malaeb), released by Thawra records and Found Sound Nation. Next is the Versions version of Marjaa, which sees Civilistjävel! (aka Swedish producer Tomas Bodén) apply a stripped, dub methodology to Mayssa's original rich stems, refracting the Arabic source through the hazy prism of Northern European electronica. 140gsm vinyl, jacket printed on 20pt board with aqueous gloss coating, with a 3.5mm spine and a black paper inner dust sleeve.

State Change is the riveting new album from composer and performer Molly Joyce, out July 11, 2025 via FatCat Records’ 130701 imprint. Blending influences ranging from the 20th century modernist lineage to the spectral drones of Andy Stott, Missy Mazzoli, and Nico Muhly, State Change draws unflinchingly from the medical record of a childhood trauma for seven electro-acoustic tone poems — stark and oppressive in its medical aesthetic, yet ultimately cathartic and healing. Joyce crafted the album with Grammy-winning producer William Brittelle largely at Figure 8 Studios with engineer Michael Hammond.

When Joyce was seven years old, she was involved in a car accident that nearly amputated her left hand and required many intensive surgeries; to this day, her hand is still impaired. Joyce pushed through this life change, and over the past eight years, her reputation has swelled as one of her generation’s most daring, conceptually driven composers.

Joyce’s 2020 debut for New Amsterdam Records, Breaking and Entering, ruminated on this seismic shift in pieces for toy organ, voice, and electronic sampling of both sources. The New York Times noted her music’s “serene power”; The Washington Post described her as “one of the most versatile, prolific and intriguing composers working under the vast new-music dome.” Pitchfork lauded her 2022 album Perspective — a sonic portrait of disability built from interview recordings, also released on New Amsterdam — as “a powerful work of love and empathy that underscores the poison of ableism in American culture.”

Cinthie makes a welcome return to her own 803 Crystal Grooves imprint this June for its sixth release, the project comprises four original"s showcasing Cinthie"s many different sonic styles and influences.
The past decade has seen Berlin"s Cinthie moving from strength to strength, racking up milestone achievements like her DJ Kicks mix compilation and a steady stream of critically acclaimed material via the likes of Aus, Heist, Shall Not Fade and of course her own 803 Crystal Grooves label where she returns here with some fresh machine jams.
"Grooves" kicks off the package, a dynamic dance floor cut fuelled by processed vocals uttering the track title, murky bass stabs, heavily swung drums and gritty saturated stabs all dynamically evolving and unfolding throughout. "Boxer" follows next and showcases Cinthie"s love for dub-tinged sounds, laying down spiralling dub echoes, a snaking bass groove and hypnotic chord sequences atop a robust, swinging rhythm section.
"Hands Up" then kicks off the B-Side, shifting gears to a classic House aesthetic with dreamy keys, bright stab sequences, glistening synth textures and smooth strings, intertwined with soulful vocals and classic 909 workout. "She Wants It" then concludes the EP on a more cinematic tip with sweeping lead synths, fluttering arpeggios, elongated bass drones and vocal lines running with raw, crunchy drums.

Underground Pacific is back with a new double vinyl compilation titled ‘The Only Good Wave is a Dead One’ that confirms, once again, its uncompromising taste for bold electronic music, psychedelic textures, and raw, electrified rock ‘n roll. This release brings together a varied group of artists, each of them adding something special to the journey.

The trip begins with “Excursions” by Gregory Moore, a piece that floats into a humid sonic world, between the nostalgic tones of vintage video game soundtracks, the Fourth World atmospheres of Jon Hassell, and the shimmering calm of ’90s Japanese ambient à la Takashi Kokubo.

Next comes Talee, the Rotterdam-based regular of the label, with “Makes Me Wonder”. Here, grunge-soaked vocals meet a tight dark disco groove, pierced by crystalline guitar chords that shimmer at the track’s heart. A song with its soul in the past and its feet in the club.

Label founder Cantor teams up once again with German duo New Hook on “Achtung! Achtung!”, an homage to the eponymous track by Italian producer Black Saagan. Fueled by vintage drum machines, punk-infused vocals, and melodies echoing the krautrock minimalism of Cluster, the track channels pure Cold War disco energy.

On “Scavengers”, Berlin based World Wild Web and Rasp Thorne deliver a pure mix of electro-rock noir – Suicide by way of David Lynch. Picture a never seen before episode of the series where Martin Rev and Alan Vega are playing live at the Roadhouse in Twin Peaks, while Laura Palmer slowly moves her head to the music, with a devilish smile on her face.

All the way from Grenoble to Berlin, H.L.M. deliver a dirty bass-driven anthem called ‘Fronde’. French spoken vocals spitfire over layers of distorted drones and hypnotic rhythms. The result is rough, hypnotic, and brings to mind the grooves of Death in Vegas.

New Hook return, this time solo, with ‘Unity’: a blend of groovy downtempo percussions, melancholic guitar riffs, and their signature brand of spoken word, a style that’s quickly become their sonic fingerprint.

Then it’s the turn of mexican-wave exponents Montessori featuring Vongold on “Ad Libitum”: a techy sunrise piece with soft pads, subtle build-ups, and an ecstatic sense of endlessness. After-party music for vast, open spaces.
Next up are SX2 from Ireland with their ‘Buttons’, offering a rolling tech-house banger laced with desert guitars. Psychedelic FX’s and whispered vocals drenched in delay slow the pace in a breakdown full of tension, preparing the floor to an euphoric release.

A dream from the pandemic era reappears: Cantor’s “Hannett’s Dream”, originally released in 2020 by Modular’s Project’s imprint ‘Nothing Is Real’ together with their own reworked version present also in two very limited vinyl-collector editions released by Underground Pacific. The introspection and hypnotic structure of the original cut here is replaced by a more stripped down arrangement, with a four-to-the-floor groove that is perfectly crafted for peak-time ignition.

Closing out the release is “Carissima” by the man behind iconic label Wonder Stories, Aimes – a Moroder-esque bassline and sensual vocals play on top of a warm groove that suddenly fractures into jazz-tinged, breakbeat mood, in the style of early Warp Records, just in time to get back into its disco-ish swing.

Contrary to what the title of this release might suggest, the wave isn’t dead at all. It’s well alive in the underground, reanimated by labels like Underground Pacific who are always ready to welcome artists who aren’t afraid to crash genres together and, above all, who are driven by the desire to make free-form, inspired pieces of music.

Repress.

Marcal is back for round two on Dustin Zahn’s Enemy Records with “Cyber Dystopia.” Marcal’s trademark grooves and clever vocal processing make this one of his most exciting and hypnotic records yet. It’s pure class…there isn’t much else to say!

BUT we have to try anyway…
“Cyber Dystopia” starts off with Bionic Jungle, a trippy peak time roller sprinkled with uh, lifeforms or something? We haven’t been able to identify them, which is just proof that Marcal is living on another planet we haven’t been to yet. We’re standing by for the invite.

Moravex’s Paradox picks up where Bionic Jungle left off…chugging along in his signature style. It’s loopy. It’s tooly…but still heavy on the grooves, making it a perfect fit in deep and peak time sets alike.

Nothing About the United States hits a little harder and darker. Dissonant drones and catchy sound design take over, flipping the switch from “party” to “punish.” For fans of his recent track on Enemy, “Never Wrote This.”

Don’t Fear the Three is a classic Marcal percussive workout in heads-down mode. It’s as equally powerful as every other track on the record.

36 and Past Inside The Present label head Zake return to their Stasis Sounds For Long Distance Space Travel project which is music designed not for the distracted world we inhabit, but for the still moments we so often neglect. Crafted with intention and restraint, it is a universe that suspends the listener in time across glacial soundscapes in which the duo conjures a sense of cosmic awe. Soft, slow-moving drones and textural washes drift like solar winds through the vacuum, suggesting the boundless calm of deep space. The production is rich, gentle with tonal shifts and barely-there harmonics that evoke both distance and intimacy, wonder and melancholy. It feels like music beamed in from the edges of the known universe. If you fancy a contemplative journey from the edge of Earth's thermosphere into the unknowable beyond, tune into Stasis Sounds on your best headphones.

Sub Basics's Temple Of Sound is back with new music from Henry Greenleaf who appears under his new moniker, Greenteeth. It is a project he is clearly using to cook up smart back room minimal sounds going off this evidence: 'Loxton' is a slow motion and prowling groove but one with deep, menacing bass and nice louche percussion. 'Jungle Love' is another subversive sound with a snaking rhythm and dubby low ends, dusty hi hats and late night mischief. Last of, 'On & On & On' plays out over all of the flipside with shuffling drums that are light and airy and topped with wispy drones. It's delightfully hypnotic.

Glasgow-based Effective Dreaming—the solo project of Scottish artist and musician Iain Ross—unveils Dream Catalogue Vol. 1, arriving June 21st, 2025 (Summer Solstice) via Swedish experimental label Fluere Tapes.

Issued as a limited run of 50 cassettes, each adorned with hand-worked, corroded copper sheet inserts and labels, Dream Catalogue Vol. 1 feels less like a release and more like an unearthed artefact: weathered, humming, quietly alive. The materials echo the music’s exploration of fragile impermanence and erosion: oxidised metal, magnetic tape, hiss, hum. A tactile world where sound wears its decay like a patina.

Across its length, the album unfolds in a series of flickering vignettes—drifting, dissolving, reappearing. Shaped by synths, environmental recordings, tape loops, and soft drones, the pieces move like glints of light on water—never fixed, always in motion. Achingly beautiful melodies rise and vanish, tracing fragile pathways through a landscape of shifting sensations. Some moments glow with a gentle warmth, like sunlit glass or breath on a fogged mirror. Others slip into shadow: slow, submerged passages feel closer to memory than music. The album feels loose and weightless, yet dense with feeling—a presence more sensed than held.

There is no fixed narrative here—only fragments and artefacts, half-remembered places, echoes of dreams. Each track hovers just at the edge of clarity, evoking not specific stories, but moods, textures, and the quiet drift of time. It’s music that feels both intimate and remote, like overhearing a distant signal only you can understand.

The name Effective Dreaming is drawn from Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Lathe of Heaven, where a dreamer's visions alter the very fabric of reality—past and present reshaped, histories rewritten, unnoticed by all but the dreamer himself. In a similar spirit, Ross’s music inhabits a space where memory, perception, and matter blur—where each sound carries the residue of something once real, now transformed and dissolving as one drifts through the seams of the world.

Dream Catalogue Vol. 1 is a meditation on texture, transience, and the quiet resonance of what slips away.

For listeners of: Wave Temples, Dolphins Into the Future, Guenther Schlienz"

Limited edition white vinyl (800 copies) The self-styled ritualistic electro-mechanical ensemble OSMIUM is a veritable supergroup. Made up of Oscar-winning composer and instrumentalist Hildur Gudnadóttir, veteran engineer and producer James Ginzburg, Senyawa's idiosyncratic vocalist Rully Shabara and Grammy-winning sound designer / producer Sam Slater, while each member brings along a laundry list of accolades, the project is far greater than the sum of its parts. Alloying burnished electroacoustic soundscapes with dense, metallic drones, barbed rhythms and buckled, bio-mechanical vocalizations, OSMIUM's eagerly awaited debut album doesn't try to cast a rigid future. Rather, it tempers a viscous flow of unorthodox speculations that smolders through the distant past, blazing a trail all the way to the frontier of fate. Absorbed by questions about the relationship between humans and technology, tradition and progression, the individual and the group, OSMIUM channel their experience and expertise into a set of forward-thinking sonic interrogations that skewer established cultural preconceptions. And although genre is acknowledged - the album draws from folk, doom metal, 20th century minimalism, industrial music and extreme noise - there's never a sense that it's riveted firmly in place. Widely known for her soundtrack work (including `Joker' and `Chernobyl') Gudnadóttir plays the halldorophone, a unique cello-like electroacoustic instrument designed by Halldór Ulfarsson that allows the performer to harness unstable feedback loops. Taking his cues from this process, Slater (who has worked alongside Jóhann Jóhannsson, Ben Frost and others) generates rhythms using a self-oscillating drum he designed with KOMA Elektronik and Subtext boss and Emptyset member Ginzburg responds in kind, producing booming tambura-like sonorities from a device he developed himself based on the monocord, an ancient single- stringed resonator. OSMIUM synchronize the three unique instruments using a custom system of robotics to generate basic rhythms that underpin their improvisations and experiments, and Shabara's alien tones supply the band with their conceptual fulcrum. The vocalist is one of South Asia's most recognizable underground artists, and the sounds he's able to create using exhaustively rehearsed extended techniques are so distinctive that he's been studied by scientists back home in Indonesia. Never weighed down by needless sound design or modish ornamentation, it's music that feels authentically experimental; OSMIUM have figured out an awkward symmetry between their discrete approaches, concentrating their gaze on the outcome rather than the process. The result is a work of science fiction that's driven by interaction, conversation and sensation.

Die genreübergreifenden Tropical Fuck Storm präsentieren ihr mit Spannung erwartetes viertes Album "Fairyland Codex" auf ihrem neuen Label Fire Records. Aufgenommen mit Co-Produzent Michael Beach im Dodgy Brothers Studio der Band in Nagambie, Australien, lassen uns die Songs auf "Fairyland Codex" in das Chaos eines schicksalhaften Erdrutsches eintauchen und die Charaktere herauspicken, die den drohenden Zusammenbruch der Gesellschaft besudeln. Sauer, bissig, anarchisch: Tropical Fuck Storm beherrschen das Wortspiel, das durch knurrende Gitarren, pulsierende Rhythmen und explosive Salven unterstrichen wird, und bevölkern ein Hinterland zwischen Licht und Dunkelheit. Das stimmliche Zusammenspiel zwischen Liddiard und den hochfliegenden Harmonien von Kitschin und Dunn schafft einen schwankenden Balanceakt, der durch die verzweifelten Erzählungen, die sich aus ihrer kollektiven Psyche entwickeln, noch verstärkt wird. Tropical Fuck Storm entstand, als The Drones - die vorherige Band von Gitarrist und Sänger Gareth Liddiard und Bassistin und Sängerin Fiona Kitschin - 2016 in eine Pause ging. Zusammen mit der Gitarristin, Keyboarderin und Sängerin Erica Dunn und der Schlagzeugerin Lauren Hammel hat die Gruppe eine Reihe von der Kritik gefeierten Alben veröffentlicht und sich einen Ruf für ihre aufrüttelnden Live-Shows erworben.