Suche:the express

'Bite The Hand That Feeds You' is the debut EP from Amsterdam-based DJ and producer Jasmín. Blending genres, moods, and eras, it draws on her Dutch-Argentinian roots while channeling the nostalgia of teenage discovery: "that formative era of girlhood where you're growing up online and building your world digitally." Across three tracks, Jasmín explores the tension between this lasting inner world and the harsher realities outside, weaving techno, bass, and dub into percussion-driven music defined by both force and introspection.

Two tracks feature London-born, Lisbon-based artist Older Brother, whose vocals move between meditation and proclamation. 'Overdriven' was built on Jasmín's original instrumental, while 'The Ride' emerged from reworking a fragment of its vocal. Together, they highlight her ability to transform personal dialogue into public expression – music that invites both reflection and release, as much to ponder as it is to dance to.

Debt is a new album by Harvey Sutherland about the cost of doing business in the meme economy. In his first LP since the 2022 debut, Boy, the Australian artist reduces his fusiony disco repertoire to ten microhoused funk essentials. This is minimalism not so much as aesthetic conceit than pressurised container, shaken in the Escherised time and space unique to our overdriven, red-lining present. The album's title nods to the financial contortions necessary to strive/survive/thrive as an independent artist. But Debt is better understood as the ledger of what we owe, and to whom, in the course of a creative life. What's the ROI on being an artist, a son, a friend, a partner, a father? Have we been worth our loved ones' own investments? If that sounds transactional, this is merely the lingua franca of our overwhelmingly digital culture, a grifter's bazaar in which Bob Dylan tunes up over Salt Bae, and Wordsworth's pitch is opposite the Rizzler.

Debt came to life when Harvey Sutherland acquired a freightload of Y2K minimal cargo from Akufen, Ricardo and Baby Ford—courtesy of local Melbourne hero Martin L—which bent the album towards a moreish pointillism. The resulting music's eyes-down minimal gestures within expressive pop shapes feels apt for the apparently contradictory things we can't help craving: immediacy and craft, on-tap "authenticity," life lessons drawn from Reel nonsense. A few years after the "neurotic funk" of Boy, a thorough excavation of interiority that comprised Harvey Sutherland's first LP proper, Debt is his to-the-point response to pressures that manifest outside the self. But in its own way it remains a reflection of Harvey Sutherland's musical innerscapes, which stretch across the grit and glitter of private-press disco and the sensual grids of Metro Area.

When Straight Ahead hit the shelves in 1974, it marked another bold chapter for Brian Auger’s Oblivion Express. The band—Steve Ferrone on drums, Barry Dean on bass, Jack Mills on guitar, and Lennox Langton on congas— was firing on all cylinders, pushing jazz fusion into fresh, uncharted territory.

Critics took notice, with Billboard praising the album as “excellent in development and inventiveness, ” and it found its way onto multiple charts at once.

The journey begins with “Beginning Again, ” a lively opener built on Langton’s congas and Ferrone’s muscular groove. Auger’s electric piano sparkles here, immediately setting the album’s adventurous tone. Then comes their take on Wes Montgomery’s “Bumpin’ On Sunset. ” Darker in mood and drenched in atmosphere, Auger stretches out into improvisation while still honoring Montgomery’s spirit. The interpretation struck such a chord that, years later, Wes’s widow wrote to Auger to tell him it was her husband’s favorite version of his much-loved tune.

The title track, “Straight Ahead, ” shifts gears into funk, showcasing the group’s ability to slide effortlessly between genres. “Change” pushes further, blending rock’s raw energy with jazz’s improvisational freedom, driven by Auger’s command of the Hammond organ. To close, “You’ll Stay in My Heart” brings the tempo down with a tender, soulful ballad—an intimate ending to an album full of bold explorations.

At the time, reviewers hailed the record as a gem. One called it “a minor masterpiece of incredibly engaging and melodic keyboard-centric jazz-rock fusion. ” Another singled out “Bumpin’ On Sunset” as “the best reason to own this recording.”

Half a century later, Straight Ahead still resonates. It captures that fertile moment in the 1970s when jazz, rock, and funk were colliding, and artists like Auger were busy redrawing the map. To this day, it stands as proof of Auger’s fearless curiosity and his knack for breaking boundaries—music that looked forward then, and still feels ahead of its time now.

When Straight Ahead hit the shelves in 1974, it marked another bold chapter for Brian Auger"s Oblivion Express. The band - Steve Ferrone on drums, Barry Dean on bass, Jack Mills on guitar, and Lennox Langton on congas - was firing on all cylinders, pushing jazz fusion into fresh, uncharted territory. Critics took notice, with Billboard praising the album as "excellent in development and inventiveness", and it found its way onto multiple charts at once.

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.

Recorded during that unique period in the late ‘60s when jazz, blues and rock musicians found common ground in London’s vibrant subterranean clubs, 1968s Definitely What! was the second of the run of the four ground-breaking Trinity albums. Showcasing Auger's open-minded approach and his masterful organ & piano skills, the album whips up a rich blend of jazz, R&B, psychedelic touches and soulful grooves, complemented by the tight, dynamic rhythm section of Dave Ambrose (bass) and Clive Thacker (drums).

After the previous year’s Open (1967) with its 'Summer of Love' feel and its melting pot of Mod R&B, cover versions of US soul hits led by Julie Driscoll’s inimitable vocals, Auger considered Definitely What! as his first solo album, and so he travelled deeper into jazz territory, balancing original pieces with audacious covers. Tracks include versions of Mose Allison's 'If You Live' and of Wes Montgomery’s ‘Bumpin’ On Sunset’. “I got a letter from Wes's wife,” recalls Auger, “saying that it was Wes' favourite version. Can you believe that, Wes's wife wrote to me!”

Elsewhere, we find a dramatic re-arrangement of The Beatles’ ‘A Day In The Life’ complete with orchestral strings and a punchy horn section, alongside a supercharged version of Booker T & The MGs’ ‘Red Beans & Rice’ . 'George Bruno Money' was dedicated to Auger's drinking pal of the era, Zoot Money, and 'John Browns Body' both combine prime Hammond jazz with the very British surrealist humour that was in vogue at the time. The title track goes further “out” in a sprawling instrumental piece rooted in experimentation. Brian himself specifically states in his sleeve notes that his concept “lies along a straight line drawn between pop and jazz and aims at the 'fusion' of both elements” - ‘fusion’ at that time was not even a recognised musical term, further reinforcing Auger’s credentials as an innovator.

That forward-thinking approach was developed in Open and Definitely What! would come to fruition a year later with the release of Streetnoise (1969) featuring the Trinity and Julie Driscoll. At the time, the move to bring together jazz, rhythm & blues, folk, gospel and pop into a progressive new sound may have annoyed the purists and confused the less open- minded, but these albums stand today as a testament to Auger’s unique position within British music, foreshadowing his future 1970s explorations with the Oblivion Express and beyond. Definitely What! remains a fascinating snapshot of 1960s musical experimentation - raw, eclectic, and unapologetically Auger!

This new Strut reissue is curated by Impressive Collective’s Greg Boraman in partnership with Brian and Karma Auger. The album is remastered by Cosmic Audio from the original tapes, and is packaged in Brian's favourite version of the 3 different sleeves the album was originally issued in.

First chapter of a futuristic dub experiment series by The 18th Parallel. Geneva based collective invites engineer extraordinaire Roberto Sánchez to revisit 10 scorcher riddims from the Fruits Records vault to craft this inventive modern classic. Reminiscent of the greatest dub albums by King Tubby, Scientist, Prince Jammy, or Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry.

Fruits Records presents the first volume of a series of dub albums by Swiss collective The 18th Parallel. Following in the tradition of Jamaican producers who revisited their catalogues in dub versions, such as Bunny Lee and his Aggrovators with King Tubby, Junjo Lawes or Linval Thompson teaming up with Roots Radics and Scientist, or Joe Gibbs and his Professionals with Errol Thompson, Fruits Records is launching a series of dub albums produced by the label's studio band, The 18th Parallel, which will invite different sound engineers to (re)mix the tracks throughout the albums: DUB AVALANCHE. This first volume offers a deep dive into the label's catalogue through ten classic or unreleased riddims revisited by Fruits Records' long-time partner, Spanish sound engineer extraordinaire Roberto Sánchez. The instrumentals are brilliantly performed by The 18th Parallel and punctuated by the voices of legendary artists such as The Viceroys, Lone Ranger, Cornell Campbell, and Dennis Walks, who appear fleetingly before disappearing into clouds of echo. Roberto Sánchez performs ten explosive, creative sound deconstructions, playing with stylistic codes to stimulate our memory and offer a timeless sensory experience.
Like the classics of the genre, the cover art evokes a quirky retro-futuristic imaginary space where, breaking with convention, the talent of Mexican artist Melissa Santamaría is expressed through a striking metaphor of a sonic avalanche.

DUB AVALANCHE VOL. 1 is already establishing itself as a future must-have for fans of uncompromising reggae and dub!

Unchained is the long-standing guitar-based project of Nate Davis, originally from Providence, RI, and based in France for over a decade. In his two most recent LPs—Gabbeh (2024, A Colourful Storm) and Frontalier (2025, Stern Records)—Davis strives to describe a new path for outsider jazz instrumentalism that remains committed to harmonic and rhythmic form while placing greater emphasis on sonic texture through experimental production techniques.

Release Description:

Unchained—a name which at the project's inception or on earlier recordings spoke perhaps to the ecstatic saturation of high gain guitar—has over the past three albums (N.D. Visitor, Pic, and Gabbeh) come to represent more and more an acknowledgement of and sensitive remove from a crashing world. An excuse of oneself from trend towards a siloed artistic development.

On Frontalier, Nate Davis crosses further into this patient personal lexicon of guitar composition, presenting a new set of richly developed songs and leaps in arrangement which may very well shock Unchained fans the world over. The sympathetic geometric guitar themes of the earlier second-period Unchained style are almost entirely absent, making way for a fully realized presentation of the jazz, MPB, and fusion influence present to varying degrees on the previous three albums. Davis's keen sense of melody and songcraft have never been stronger, here landing on music which is at moments evocative of Wes Montgomery, Allan Holdsworth, Jobim, or the jazzier impulses of Lô Borges. Distinct in Davis's music, however, is what these references might belie: an innate tending towards repetition as an affective tool—one which has less to do with the aesthetics of the scene from which the project emerged than it does with devotional prayer. In this way it feels as if Unchained has always been music for living. What was once a maximalist expression of youth has matured into the sound of living with and in the world and an empathic transmuting of all the joy, disappointment, and ambivalence that comes with it. Songs that feel like the sort of thinking one does looking out the window on a long train ride, or the routinism of internal and external life and the breaking out of it. As much as it will be recognized by the fandom as a significant step forward, Frontalier serves also as a perfect gateway for new listeners to the singular music of Unchained.

Hikmah is an astonishing solo piano work from virtuosic and far-ranging
sound scientist; deep and compassionate thinker and musical treasure: Pat
Thomas
Pat Thomas was Born in Oxford, UK to Antiguan parents on July 27, 1960.
Interestingly, just over 4 months separate his birth to that of fellow modern piano
master Matthew Shipp (Dec 7, 1960) - whose The Piano Equation was TAO Forms
inaugural release. Thomas is most certainly among the Black Mystery School Pianists
of which Shipp elucidates in the title essay of his recently published first book.
Eight thoroughly focused improvised and otherwise compositions recorded at Fish
Factory studio in London. The album's title, Hikmah, means "wisdom" in Arabic. The
title is also presented in two different forms of Arabic calligraphic script on the cover
artwork. This album brings the information. The vibrantly living jazz tradition and new
modes of expression in abundance are brought forth from a lifetime of work and a
decades long devotion to Sufism, understanding that the practice and performance of
this music is an elemental form of spiritual practice. As William Parker writes in the
liner notes, "the music becomes the prophet and the prayer all in one gesture." And,
"If you haven't yet heard the music of Pat Thomas, get hip to it quickly."
Attuned American audiences are most likely to have become familiar with Pat
Thomas through his work with the quartet [Ahmed] , whom over recent years have
amazed with their mesmeric, long-form explorations on the compositions of Ahmed
Abdul-Malik, and more recently, Thelonious Monk. Their debut US performance took
place in March 2025, and TAO Forms were lucky members of the rapt audience at
Roulette in Brooklyn that night; the group flew to Knoxville the next day to perform to
an equally rapt audience at Big Ears.
Available on 6- panel digipak CD printed on heavyweight board, with liner notes by
William Parker and LP with insert featuring liner notes by William Parker & Pat
Thomas Discography + download card. Ltd edition of 500.

In an intricate lattice of ever-evolving electro exploration, Samuel Van Dijk is back on Delsin with a new EP. Under his VC-118A alias, the Helsinki based producer presents a richly textured, cinematic strain of machine funk that reaches beyond dancefloor functionality to test the expressive potential locked within electro's crisp rhythmic framework. There's a melancholic mood hovering over Avian as Van Dijk allows a subtle edge of distortion to creep into his flickering drum programming. The end result is a pensive sound that touches on the moodiness of orchestral composition, unfurling patiently across extended run times without losing focus. With his characteristic attention to detail and broad dynamic range, Van Dijk continues to offer up a sophisticated, emotionally-charged strain of electro like no other.

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.

There is a new artist from Japan followed by the name Kakeru who is giving his Shaw Cuts debut with ãRaw CourageÒ, telling the story of an emperor besieged by an army who then entrusts his child to the Black Dragon Clan heading off to a dangerous journey.
An attempt to usurp the Ming Emperor's throne by the sinister martial artist simply known as ãold monster" and his armies results in most of the palace being massacred. ãQuagmireÒ and its vibrant percussive pattern carried by a heavy broken kick and a driving bassline help the emperorÕs infant son to escape and put in care of the Black Dragon Clan.
En route they are attacked by government forces but rescued by two knights. They prove to be a valuable addition to the party in subsequent encounters with their pursuers. ãMirror ForestÒ and its laid-back atmosphere, mysterious vocal snatches and shining pads carried by an expressive drum pattern help the travellers parrying every sneaky attack on their journey.
Trying to head to the White Dragon Clan in order to seek for help, the squad has to masquerade and take several battles, always protecting the baby in tow. The razor-sharp percussions, corrosive bass and thrashing kick of ãSwayingÒ tremendously supports the warriors in each fight.
Finally they make it to the temple of the White Dragons where they show their Black Dragon seal as a sign of solidarity. But all of a sudden the mood changes. ãBroken BubblesÒ and its menacing atmosphere built up by a monstrous sub bass, reduced but impactful drums and subtle synth elements underline the potential threat. Did they walk into a trap? Is there enough energy left for one big fight? Raw courage is vital now.

Trystero returns with their new album Humming Fuzz on Knekelhuis — a kaleidoscopic voyage deeper into the band’s expanding cosmos.

Built on plunging basslines, acid-drenched loops, and spiraling kraut-inspired guitar textures, the record drifts between hypnotic repetition and free-flowing, hallucinatory songwriting. It echoes the visionary spirit of Psychic TV and the genre-blurring universe of Weatherall, while carving out a raw, magnetic space of its own.

Recorded once again on a canal barge in the North of France, Humming Fuzz feels like a natural evolution from their debut Sfumare e Vedere — denser, more alive, and charged with electricity. Now expanded with Nelly on bass and Alexia on vocals, Trystero channels this expanded energy into their wild, expressive live performances, soon to ignite audiences on their upcoming tours.

Interception, the second long player from Jensen Interceptor following 2018's Mother, is something of a state-of-the-nation that finds Melas consolidating several eras of his career, past and present, to form a distinct new sound that is the most experimental work he has produced to date.

In 2024, a freak accident at an event he was playing left him with multiple broken bones in his foot. The forced downtime became an opportunity for introspection, allowing him to revisit earlier projects and explore new musical territories. Blending his signature electro with genres such as IDM, footwork, and baile funk, Melas used this recovery period to fuse old influences with fresh global sounds. "Since I started making music I've always made music geared towards use in my DJ sets but there's always been an urge to explore the deeper side of electronic music.
That time off after the accident gave me the space to dive into genres and really experiment.
" The accident came at a time when he had already spent time, like so many others though the COVID-19 pandemic, assessing his next move. A full tour schedule had left him feeling constrained by the limitations of working in a single genre. As such, Interception is the end point of this reassessment and the start point of what Melas sees as the next stage of his musical evolution.
"I really wanted to challenge and, I guess, prove myself in other spheres, to take my music to a new place. I've never wanted to be too repetitive and found that expectations, imagined or real, were forcing me to get stuck on a specific sound both in my productions and DJ sets." This renewal is reflected in the title of the album, which eagle-eyed fans will note is the same as the first EP that was released under the Jensen Interceptor moniker, and the emotional and personal nature of the LP is likewise mirrored in the abstract impressionism of the artwork created by fellow Australian, Brodie Kaman, the artist behind the visual look of Lady Gaga's recent Mayhem LP as well as works for FKA Twigs, Nine Inch Nails, and more.
The design-resembling oil drifting across a microscope slide-uses a mix of vivid pastels and moody darks to express the album's emotional depth: a collection of distinct elements coalescing into something richer and more evocative.

What the fuck?? What the fucking fuck?? It's the only realistic response to these dark, divisive and dangerous times. How do you react? How do you feel? How do you soundtrack? Immersion is the project of post punk musical architects Colin Newman (Wire) and Malka Spigel (Minimal Compact) and Matt Schulz (Holy Fuck, Savak & Lake Ruth). Since the pandemic, Immersion has been mainly working on their Nanocluster collaborations, but they have now re-engaged with the core project after a UK and USA tour gave them a shot of musical urgency and lyrical immediacy. If the Nanocluster project is about collaboration, then Immersion in 2025 is a response to where humanity finds itself in the second decade of the 21st century. It reacts to not only that relentless rhetoric of these times but also how we as humans should respond. Music is the message, the medium, the massage and the moment. This song collection manages to combine the unease with hope, minimally hypnotic songwriting with taut melodies and inventiveness with groove. The lead off track released on July 28th is "Use It Don't Lose It" which they describe as `An expression of us both together, saying the same thing for ourselves & for others. The words are so direct they need no explanation. Anyone could join in with the chanting!

Denmarks leading outlet for fresh, forward forward-thinking jazz, April Records, proudly presents the debut release from award award-winning Danish vibraphonist Viktoria Sondergaard. With wide ranging influences from jazz, chamber music, cabaret, pop, rap and SukumaSukuma-inspired grooves, as well as the hymns and melodies of the Danish Hojskolesangbog traditional/folk songbook, the music is grounded in collective expression and responsibility. The album s bold, boundary boundary-pushing sound was built on a strong sense of musical community, as well as Sondergaard s desire to integrate spoken word and lyrics into her practice to convey her thoughts and feelings on the world around her on a deeper, more personal level. Composing with her four collaborators in mind, Viktoria imagined her quintet playing each note as she composed, making the music inseparable from their presence. The album integrates spoken word, rap, singing, screaming, and whispering - a shared sonic tapestry that expresses joy, wonder, questioning and celebration. It s a band built on inspiration, joy, dreams and love, Viktoria says. For me, one of the most beautiful things in art is that we have a platform to say something about the society and world around us. This album is an attempt to do just this. this." Balancing warmth and intimacy with tension and exploration, the music weaves rich instrumental textures and spacious soundscapes with intricate vocal arrangements - intertwining voices that move between comforting folk folk-like harmonies and angular, avant avant-garde expression. The quartet s deep listening and intuitive interplay are evident throughout, shifting fluidly from open, exploratory passages to tightly locked grooves. The result is a sound that feels both grounded and searching: a sonic conversation inviting the listener into a space of vulnerability, curiosity, and connection. With a sparkling tone, emotive improvisation and refined control over her instrument Viktoria is recognised as a fearless explorer and bold musical voice. A recipient of the Aarhus Jazz Talent Prize, Tivoli Jazz Prize and the 2025 Carl Prize Honorary Award presented by Marilyn Mazur, she balances adventurous writing and collective invention with melodic immediacy and emotional power.

When Soft Cell played a spectacular, sold-out show before 20,000 fans at The O2 in September 2018, the London concert was seen by all and sundry as a grand finale. It had been billed as One Night: One Final Time, leaving devotees in no doubt that a duo who had done so much to define the sound of British electronic pop in the 1980s were saying hello to wave one last, emotional goodbye. At least that had been the idea. Singer Marc Almond and instrumentalist Dave Ball had originally gone their separate ways in 1984 before reuniting for two years in the early 2000s to make a new album, Cruelty Without Beauty. The intention at The O2 had been to draw a line under a rollercoaster ride that had seen Soft Cell secure three Top Ten albums and six Top Ten singles, including 1981’s all-conquering Tainted Love, while setting a template for synth acts from the Pet Shop Boys to Years & Years.



But such was the reaction – and the sense of purpose the pair rediscovered onstage – that the big adieu ultimately turned out to be a brilliant new dawn. The reality is that Marc and Dave bring the best out of one another as performers, both onstage and in the studio, and the sense that there was still plenty of mileage left in their partnership was inescapable. The latest fruits of a bond that was first forged in the art department of Leeds Polytechnic in 1977 were in the shape of a new studio album, *Happiness Not Included, and a series of live dates in the UK and the US that saw the band treat fans to a mixture of new material, classic hits and their 1981 debut album Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret, which was played in its entirety for the first time to mark its 40th anniversary.

"It may surprise some that, after two decades of silent films, when Alam Ara broke the silence in 1931, it and every South Asian talkie that followed was what we in the West think of as a "musical." Music had been integral to the culture's staged drama going back to the Gupta Dynasty — sometime between the 4 th and 6 th Century CE. Since its inception, South Asian cinema drew heavily from Marathi, Parsi, and Bengali musical theatre and silent film screenings were often accompanied by live music to mimic a live staged experience.

When sound films arrived, actors with serious singing skills became the next wave of stars. Songs were performed live while shooting, with musicians hidden off-camera, to the side or sometimes even in trees. Playback singing — the practice of dubbing a real singer's voice over a lip-syncing actor — didn't become standard until the 1940s.

Thus, the biggest stars of the 1930s were also the greatest singers, with some, like Govindrao Tembe and Pankaj Mullick, excelling as both composers and vocalists. None, however, were more beloved than K.L. Saigal, whose emotional, untrained crooning captivated audiences across the subcontinent. Saigal's voice inspired a young Lata Mangeshkar, who vowed to become India's greatest filmi singer to win his heart. Sadly, Saigal grew increasingly addicted to alcohol, unable to perform without it, and passed away at age 42, seven months before the Partition. Lata never married.

This collection features some of the earliest songs from South Asian cinema, sourced from CDs and LPs found in Jackson Heights, Queens, Coney Island Avenue in Brooklyn, Lexington Avenue in Manhattan, and Oak Tree Road in Iselin, New Jersey — areas home to vibrant immigrant communities. South Asian immigration to New York and New Jersey surged after the 1965 Immigration and Nationality Act, which lifted non-European quotas. By the 1990s and 2000s, the region's Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi media outlets flourished, especially in Jackson Heights, where such stores outnumbered the total number of regular record shops throughout the five boroughs.

The nascent period of sound film featured a limited palette of musical styles, predominantly Marathi Bhagveet, like the Ghazal, but with greater flexibility of subject matter and rhythm, and Rabindra Sangeet, the approximately 2,000 songs and poems composed by Bengali Nobel laureate Rabindranath Tagore. But there was some evolution as well, with the success of South Asian cinema's first woman composer, the classically trained Saraswati Devi, and the introduction of Western instruments including the piano and Hawaiian guitar.

While much of the music was dark and brooding, perhaps exemplified best by Devika Rani's interpretation of Saraswati Devi's "Udi Hawa Mein" from 1936's Achhut Kannya (Untouchable Maiden), there were moments of brightness, such as R.C. Boral's "Lachhmi Murat Daras Dikhaye" sung by Kanan Devi in Street Singer, an otherwise thoroughly depressing film from 1938 that cemented Devi's and co-star K.L. Saigal's superstardom.

This selection was chosen to emphasise a range of expressivity, instrumentation and style achieved even within the decade's relatively limited scope, setting the listener up for the relative explosion of possibility in the 1940s, to be covered in the next installment of this series."

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

Recorded in Switzerland and mastered in Madrid, on Deságua Mello blends classical harp training with experimental techniques, creating a rich sonic journey that pushes the boundaries of the instrument. Brazilian harpist and composer Marina Mello presents Deságua, her solo debut released by the Peruvian label Buh Records. Based in Zurich, Mello has developed a unique and expressive approach to the harp, combining her classical training with a deep exploration of the instrument's sonic possibilities. Deságua is the result of this process: an intimate and expansive work that traverses sonic landscapes rich in contrast and texture. In the artist's own words, this album is a synthesis of material developed through her musical practice. The title refers to the Portuguese word that describes the moment a river flows into the sea. This concept guides the album's sonic narrative, in which each piece functions as a tributary flowing into an immersive and unexpected listening experience. From bittersweet whale-like sounds to destructive, unsettling, and shattering noise provocations, she explores, senses, and transcends the musical boundaries of her instrument. The album presents a wide range of sounds and styles, yet maintains a strong internal coherence through its technical and conceptual exploration of the harp. Mello performs on both lever and pedal harps, employing a range of non-traditional techniques: preparing the instrument with objects, using guitar effects pedals, detuning the strings, and using close mic recording to capture the subtlest sounds and the shifts that lie between them. The result is a collection of pieces that move between the melodic and the dissonant. Deságua does not shy away from repetition, noise, or raw textures. Instead, it embraces them fully, situating the album at the crossroads of contemporary music, improvisation, and electronic experimentation.