Suche:the faint

White Vinyl

Greyscale's most personal release and perhaps the most important for label owner grad_u aka Aleksandr Martinkevič. Earlier this year, Alex was diagnosed with cancer. Certainly a horrible thing to hear and there has definitely been some low moments in certain stages of the journey. At just 36 years old, many of us are shocked that such a young person can develop cancer. After some research he found out that younger and younger people are randomly getting cancer studies show. An alarming trend to learn about. However, there has also been a lot of other learning and different new levels of appreciation for the simple things in life as a new higher level of inspiration in making music has manifested. And this new release encapsulates that. Alex has also felt a duty to make things better for others. Focusing on what can be improved as he wants to highlight research, treatment and the overall communication of this disease to more people in the electronic music scene. Part of the proceeds from this new album will be donated to the National Cancer Institute in his homeland of Lithuania.
Alex wants everyone to know that catching these signs early and getting regular checkups are your best chance at beating cancer. Thankfully Alex did this also and his treatments have gone well. Alex plans still stay steadfast with his label and his life. Simplifying things with the love from his family and friends, focusing on his hobbies
along with making sure he makes his health his #1 personal priority.
The name for this full length release is titled 'T2NO'. grad_u's most introspective work yet features 8 emotional tracks overall. The honesty expressed in this album is blunt and to the point. These tracks take you on an audio journey thru grad_u as he expresses his feelings thru the entire process in each stage.
Beginning with two wonderful ambient tracks named 'Genetic Mutation' & 'Carcinogen'. In the opener, Chords rain over you as a beautiful ambient melody peeks out underneath it followed by a more stark and hazy field of interference. From the gentle opener to the more tension filled follower, the personal journey of grad_u is
developing before your ears. The b-side of 'Neoplasm' is a bit more somber but also has a ray of light in it.
Introspective as it can get, this is a true journey through an uncertain future. 'MRI scan' needs no explanation....
The second half of the album begins the understanding of what grad_u was going thru. 'Malignant Transformation' gives off that feeling of the human body working thru the science. Fight or flight becomes the theme for this track. 'Adenocarcinoma' almost gives off the sound of cells rebuilding themselves. Sci-fi meets real life in this epic battle. 'Resection' continues this scientific sounding reflection on the body healing with sounds of movement and time. As if the body is working itself out. Lastly and triumphantly comes the closing
track 'Waking up to a New Life'....
The emotional journey of this album isn't for the faint of heart. It leaves nothing to the imagination. It works thru all the emotions that can come with such and life changing event like having cancer. We want to thank grad_u for sharing his story with us. This story can happen to anyone...
"I would like to take this opportunity to express my great gratitude to doctors A. Dulskas, G. Jurevičienė, V. Sidorov and all staff in Abdominal Surgery and Oncology Department at NCI. Thank you for your expert care and for saving my life.
Also, big big thank you my family and closest friends for all their love and support during this difficult period of time and always being there for me."
Special thanks to Lithuanian Council for Culture, associations AGATA and LATGA for support of this special project.
Part of proceeds from the album will be donated to National Cancer Institute, Lithuania

Rocko Garoni knows what a techno dance floor wants. He’s learned it through countless hours spent on the floor himself as a punter, and through DJing at some of the best clubs and festivals in his hometown Berlin and all over the world. He knows exactly the type of productions that thrill crowds, and he brings this wealth of knowledge and experience to his third EP for Second State, Ammoniak.

The title and first track ‘Ammoniak’ drags you straight into the zone; a pounding, take no prisoners cut laced with stormy synths creating a vague sense of paranoia. ‘Gece‘ cranks the energy up with trancey, bouncing synths and a cool, clipped female vocal. Instantly, you’re pulled into the very sort of club that Garoni knows so well. ‘No Border‘ is the kind of expansive track that seems destined for huge warehouses or vast festival dancefloors. There’s an insistent, brooding bassline, robotic repeated vocals and a mid-track shift in tone that will send the crowd to a heightened state of reverie. The blend of post-punk vocals and eerie beats on ‘It’s All Yours‘, a track featuring Cook Strummer on the vocals, is at once highly unusual and completely compelling. It’s the track to play when the crowd are losing themselves in the best possible way. Closing the EP is ‘Helio‘, another completely different track that showcases the extent of Garoni’s range. Faint, echoed chanting lends the track an almost holy atmosphere. Combined with tunnelling synths and spindly percussion FX, the effect is euphoric, acting as a delicious palate cleanser between heavier tracks.

Put simply, Ammoniak is another first-class EP from a dynamic act who’s fast becoming a Second State star.

Percussionist Jamie Muir was a member of King Crimson during the recording of Larks' Tongues In Aspic, in 1973. Staying less than a year with Robert Fripp, the Scot had already cut his teeth with another master guitarist, Derek Bailey, as part of the Music Improvisation Company, along with Evan Parker, Hugh Davies and Christine Jeffrey, whose eponymous 1970 album was one of the first releases on ECM. Muir and Bailey recorded Dart Drug eleven years later, in 1981.There's no shortage of great percussionists in the brief history of free improvised music but on the strength of Dart Drug alone Jamie Muir deserves a place at High Table. Unlike for example Han Bennink and John Stevens, though, you can't hear echoes of any particular jazz drummer in Muir's playing, even if he has expressed appreciation for Milford Graves (who himself sounded like nobody else who'd come before him).What on earth did Muir's kit consist of Some instruments are clearly identifiable (bells, gongs, chimes, woodblocks); others could be... well, anything. Old suitcases thwacked with rolled up newspapers Tin cans and hubcaps inside a washing machine Who cares It sounds terrific - but if you're the kind of person who faints at the sound of nails scraping a blackboard, you might want to nip out and put the kettle on towards the end of the title track.Dart Drug is consistently thrilling, and often very amusing - but it's certainly not easy listening. In music we talk about playing with other musicians, whereas in sport you play against another opponent (or with your team against another team). Why not play against in music, too That's precisely what happens very often in improvised music, and Bailey was particularly good at it. How can a humble acoustic guitar hope to compete with a Muir in full flight Sometimes Bailey's content to sit on those open strings, teasing out yet another exquisite Webernian constellation of ringing harmonics and wait for the dust to settle in Muir's junkyard, but elsewhere he sets off into uncharted territory himself.'The way to discover the undiscovered in performing terms is to immediately reject all situations as you identify them (the cloud of unknowing) - which is to give music a future.' Bailey evidently concurred with this spoken statement by Muir, including it in his book Improvisation.Derek Bailey is no longer with us, of course, and Muir gave up performing music back in 1989. All the more reason for seeking out this magnificent, wild album.

The hardest part of ending is starting again.

After a seven-year hiatus following the devastating loss of their beloved bandmate, LINKIN PARK’S remaining members struggle to find their way forward. Their shared history and enduring friendship, combined with the fresh perspective of two new band members spark a renewed creative energy that leads them on a transformative journey of artistic reinvention.

Following the band from intimate 2022 studio sessions through their explosive November 15, 2024 FROM ZERO album release and concert in São Paulo, the film UNSHATTER weaves together rare vault footage, electrifying performances from sold-out shows, and candid interviews with band members and fans—capturing the raw, honest story of what it means to start over.

This accompanying Film Soundtrack (Live in São Paulo) features transcendent performances of songs spanning their entire career, including exclusive recordings not experienced in the film.

Three years after their debut, the synth-pop duo HERON is back: On September 25, the Leipzig-based band’s second album will be released on the O*RS Label. With “Be Okay,” the band shows itself to be more experimental than before and strikes a critical note—without losing its signature sound. Dancefloor euphoria meets synthwave drama; big sounds meet big themes: social criticism, sexual oppression, the struggle with one’s own demons, and moments of political powerlessness. But the album is also shaped by a courage to embrace tenderness and a commitment to longing—all underscored by a melancholy that you can dance to. With a playful spirit, the duo fully explores the space between anthemic pop and darkwave moments, thereby revealing their inner selves (even more) to the outside world

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

“I like to work with a variety of instruments and set ups,” says Mark Van Hoen, sometimes known as Locust or Autocreation but here working under his own name on the excellent Plan For A Miracle, his first physical release of solo music since 2018’s Invisible Threads. ”Sometimes it’s literally in my studio, with all the hardware electronics available. Sometimes the laptop, using software instruments. Some of the tracks on this record were recorded in the desert (Joshua Tree) using a 4-track tape machine and small modular synthesiser set up. Each track was recorded in different location using different instruments, which accounts for the distinction between each piece. It’s also about my own reaction to my environment, and what’s going on in my life at the time.”

The Croydon-born Van Hoen started musical life in the early 1990s, signing for R&S records in 1993 but developing his own, myriad and distinctive style across a range of releases on Touch, Editions Mego and other labels, using a battery of instruments, including analogue synthesizers and taking a number of different approaches to recording, rather than ploughing a single sonic furrow. He has worked on a number of collaborations, including with Nick Holton and Neil Halstead of Slowdive, under the moniker of Black Hearted Brother - their Stars Are Our Home was released in 2013. “I have known Neil Halstead since 1992,” says Van Hoen. “He shared a house with me for a couple of years, and the music I was making and listening to along with clubs I was attending had an influence particularly on Pygmalion, the final Slowdive album on Creation.”

Each track on Plan For A Miracle does indeed sound like a world unto itself, a mini-environment, a weather condition, an ecosystem created for the moment. It’s a collection of tracks recorded over the past few years, released on Bandcamp - despite his apparent absence, Van Hoen works constantly. Opener “Climates”, in its exquisite limpidity, feels like a homage to Brian Eno, one of his most formative influences in his teen years, commencing with Music For Films, which he bought in 1979. “This Is For Them”, feels like a ghostlike throwback to early drum & bass or electronica, reminiscent of his own, earliest outings. “There have been a number of requests from labels to make some more music like my very early releases on R&S,” says Van Hoen. “This is part of ‘letting go’ and realising that there’s nothing less creative about going back to those styles again.”

“Pencil Of Spheres” is something else again, a magnificent, imaginary glass structure, shimmering, refracting, without visible means of suspension, a thing of impossible beauty. “Electric Lights” evokes an abandoned fairground, its lights still pulsating, its music lingering. “The Underpass”, meanwhile, insofar as it reminds of anything at all, is faintly reminiscent of Cluster or Neu’s! West German ambience, the urban mundane rendered magical, the sodium lights, the whitewashed walls. The reverberant, faintly oriental chimes of “Insight” transport us yet again, burgeoning and intensifying.

The landscapes, the skyscapes rendered on Plan For A Miracle feel unpopulated as a rule - but when he does introduce vocal elements, Van Hoen has a history of doing so to spectacular effect - think of “Real Love” from 1998’s Playing With Time, the seductive intonation of its title recurring throughout like a series of massive holograms, echoing, stuttering, breaking up, surging. Here, there are just the faintest of vocals, barely distinct, disquieting. “There’s been a bit of a game changer in recent times,” explains Van Hoen. “AI software that enables you to extract vocals and instrument parts from virtually any recording. That means sampling individual parts from existing sources is no longer limited to the original mix exposing certain parts soloed. The vocal parts I use are from multiple sources and often pitch shifted altered rhythmically and melodically.“ There’s further vocal chatter on “I Really Do”, proceeding at a faster pace as if giving chase, or being pursued - distant, enigmatic. “The Music”, meanwhile, its beat tolling, lost in its own fog of static, features a curious intonation, like the ghost of a lost Walker Brother.

Sadly, the album’s title is in reference to a personal tragedy on Van Hoen’s part - the loss of his wife. Titles such as “I Won’t Give Up”, which faintly reminds of another Eno masterpiece, Another Green World, in its nautical hurly-bury, or the pastoral strains of “Mrs Who”, heavily clouded with sadness, seem to allude to this. “In fact the record was recorded entirely before she passed away,” says Van Hoen, “most of it before she even became very ill. The title was given to the album when it started to look like she wasn’t going to make it beyond a few months. It was something Osho said - “plan for a miracle” - so it was a statement of hope. Unfortunately it was not to be.” Although the album is non-thematic, non-specific in its atmospheres, sound paintings, elegant structures it most certainly stands as a magnificent monument to Osho’s memory.

-David Stubbs.

CHIHEI HATAKEYAMA, captivating the world with his beautiful ambient/drone works, and KEN IKEDA, an original improvisational musician radiating a unique presence. This work, both artists spent approximately ten years recording and meticulously editing down to the finest details, explores the theme of "a mental landscape where distorted dreams and crumbling daily life intersect, where anxiety and darkness seep into the cracks, and faint light flickers within the depths of silence." A total of 16 imaginative soundscapes unfold like shifting scenes in a film. The jacket design features artwork by the cutting-edge visual artist MIKA TAMORI.

When Drop Nineteens disbanded in the mid-'90s, singer Greg Ackell decided he would never make music again. He wouldn't noodle around on a guitar in his basement. He wouldn't get a group of friends together just to jam. He was done with music entirely. Following the release of the shoegaze masterpiece Delaware in 1992, and the intricate experimentations on National Coma in 1993, the group disbanded. They shared stages with Radiohead, Hole, Blur, PJ Harvey and Smashing Pumpkins. They went from being teenagers in Boston to mid-twenty-somethings with a few MTV videos, a couple BBC sessions and numerous festival appearances under their belt. So when Drop Nineteens ceased to be, Ackell felt content. He had the rest of his life in front of him to figure out what he wanted to do. Music was a closed chapter.That was until 2021, when a friend from the band's early days got Greg on the phone to suggest making some music together, just to see how it felt. Instead of shutting it down like he had been doing over the years, he decided to entertain the prospect. For the first time in nearly 30 years, he picked up a guitar with intent. He immediately called up Steve Zimmerman, the band's bassist and fellow guitarist, and the two got writing. It felt effortless for Ackell, like he never stopped writing music. "We were off to the races," he says, "But also the question came up: what does a Drop Nineteens song sound like today?" Enter Hard Light, the band's stunning third record. It's the band's proverbial follow up to Delaware, a modern Drop Nineteens record that is completely singular in its sound and vision. The first task making Hard Light was, of course, getting the rest of the band back together. Drop Nineteens is an inherently collaborative project. Ackell writes the lyrics, and he works with band members Steve Zimmerman, Paula Kelley, Motohiro Yasue, and Peter Koeplin to create the sonic world. The record came together over the course of a year, recording at a patchwork of studios all around the country: Boston, Brooklyn, San Francisco, Los Angeles. When Kelley and Ackell first heard their vocals recorded together on the opus album closer "T", the chemistry was undeniable. Making music together felt natural, fluid, exciting.Hard Light is a romantic record in the literary sense. Beauty from longing; longing from beauty. You put the album on and want to be clad in a velvet dress sprawled across a fainting couch. You want to be holding someone's hand while you sit back in the tall grass. The guitars are expansive and expressive as ever. Ackell and Kelley's vocals are cool, crystalline, and luminous. "Gal" comes on like a dream. The vocals pour in when you least expect them, once in the middle, where Ackell delivers one of the strangest (and best) lyrics on the record, "And there were snakes/with cats at the wheel." Hard Light's first single, "Scapa Flow" is triumphant and an excellent example of what a modern day Drop Nineteens song sounds like. The guitars glide cloud-like, floor toms shuffle and rumble in the background, searching. Ackell and Kelley's vocals are as toned as they are bound. Hard Light is every bit the ride that Delaware was, diverse in its sounds, with surprises at every turn. Drop Nineteens have brought clarity and cool in 2023 to the genre they helped create. A portrait of a band 30 years later, as talented and dedicated to their craft as ever. To put it more bluntly, they're at the top of their game.

2026 Repress

Polygonia & MTRL - Division / Taris EP incl. Remixes by Claudio PRC and Mary Yuzovskaya

A1. Polygonia - Division
Right from the start the listener is cast into orbit with driving percussion and abstract sound effects. Soon they are followed with a morphing bass sound and cymbals which lock the groove into place, cranking the drive to the max. As the track progresses the landscape of sound reveals its nature with metallic quality, like schrapnel from a barren city. Truly a Deep Techno banger which will without a doubt fill a dance floor.

A2. MTRL - Taris
The listener is slowly submerged into the waves of percussive bass sounds and menacing sweeps of noise which remind of a storm in a desert, the horizon only slightly glimmering behind the veil of sand. Soon the listener is introduced with a pounding kick drum, almost making the landscape seem even more ruthless as the track progresses.
Quality, heady Deep Techno.

B1. Polygonia - Division Claudio PRC Remix
The hypnotic Techno maestro Claudio PRC twists the idea of the original track into a mind explorative voyage with a triplet feel. The remix is shrouded in melancholy with distant pad sounds, which add a nice tension to the track. As usual, a brilliant remix from Claudio PRC.

B2. MTRL - Taris Mary Yuzovskaya Remix
On the remix the Berlin based producer is molding the source material into a driving and psychedelic track, functional yet synapse tingling. Now the bass has a bit more liquid-like quality and the overall soundscape is more abstract. Hallucinatory effects of noise are filling the spaces between the sounds, almost like being surrounded with faint whispers. Driving and psychedelic Deep Techno done with finesse.

Words by Latmos

Limited copies

Korlakang are four young friends from Thonburi, the quieter, canal-laced western bank of Bangkok, where temple bells and river rhythms shape everyday life. Formed from a bond that stretches back to high school hallways and shared university years, the band came together with a sound rooted in Thai traditional music and the warm haze of psychedelic rock.

Their debut 7-inch, Samong Sai, is that rare thing: a record that seems to arrive already aged, carrying the grain and warmth of a forgotten 70s pressing. It seeps in slowly, sweet and chill, like sound faintly coming through a neighbour's window. The kind of music that makes you stop what you're doing just to hear a little more of.

Vivod proudly presents the long-awaited debut album from Cestrian. The release features five essential tracks pressed to vinyl, with all eight tracks available digitally. A collection of dystopian electro workouts designed to clear the mind, fuel the imagination, and offer just the faintest glimmer of hope—though not too much. Dark, driving, and unmistakably Cestrian, this is a soundtrack for uncertain times.

Limited to just 150 vinyl copies worldwide. Get your pre-orders in early to avoid missing out.

R&B outsider Zsela joins forces with inc. no world's Daniel Aged and film composer Taul Katz on '4 Dreams', a billowing ambient-neoclassical hallucination that'll tickle fans of Mary Lattimore, Malibu, Nala Sinephro, Gigi Masin. If you only know Zsela thanks to her dramatic 2024 debut album 'Big For You', the mostly beatless, fully reflective '4 Dreams' might come as a surprise. But look a little further back in her catalogue and things will fall into place; remember 'Angels Pharmacy' and Remembrance' from Actress's 'Karma & Desire'? That was Zsela on vocals, so she's got priors. '4 Dreams' started life as the soundtrack to 'Seven Heavenly Senses', an art exhibition from last year at Paris's Hôtel de la Marine, but has since taken on a life of its own. Zsela's breaths are stretched and sculpted into warm, washing biomechanical pads on the opening dream, left to weather tinny arpeggiated FM synths and muggy bass drones. So far, so predictable. But Zsela muddles proceedings with her confident delivery, layering her voice into jazzy, R&B inflected key changes that keep you guessing. Imagine an astral plane answer to Dawn Richard's ambient-inflected pop and you'll have some idea of where this is headed.

Then 'Dream 2' takes an unexpected diversion, the vocals replaced by swirling harp flourishes and the kind of floating synth stabs that draw a core logic from classic Ambient - Harold Budd, Laraaji et al - then adding extra colors just where necessary. And on 'Dream 3', faint, almost folk-y strings enter the frame, calling out from beyond the horizon, almost blotted out by a synth part that's in the thrall of Gigi Masin's legendary 'Clouds' - the track that ended up being repurposed by Björk on 'It's In Our Hands'. Zsela, Katz and Aged keep that momentum for the final track, too, letting cinematic strings echo around subtle synths and vanishing rhythms, hitting those hypnagogic, tranquil notes that so much contemporary ambient music seems to avoid. 'Cause at its heart, '4 Dreams' is deeper than that, a record that's entrenched in jazz, soul and classical minimalism rather than throwaway numbing music, of the contemporary variety.

Originally released in 2008 on Ezekiel Honig’s own Anticipate Recordings, Surfaces of a Broken Marching Band finds the artist refining a compositional language rooted in the methodologies of musique concrete, ambient, and beat research. Working from a palette of environmental recordings, instrumental fragments, and soft electronic treatments, Honig pushes the source material into an array of sympathetic forms ranging from pillow-soft, lowercase ambient to diffuse downtempo and minimal house. For its reissue on Keplar, the album has been remastered by Kassian Troyer (D&M), bringing a new clarity to its intricate, low-lit architectures.

Throughout the record, serving almost as audiographic guideposts, are faint but insistent gestures toward propulsion, an abiding and recurrent 4/4 pulse that guides the music laterally and instantiates a slow negotiation between its various elements. This music invites close listening precisely by not revealing itself all at once, allowing small collisions of timbre and subtle shifts in emphasis to carry the weight. The traces of lived environments that remain embedded in the mix - distant crowds, sounds of transit, the indistinct acoustics of interiors in flux - expand the frame without breaking its intimacy, creating a potent dislocation between the nearness of the sound and the scale of its sources.

Rather than foregrounding any single voice, this is music that distributes attention equally across its materials, allowing background details to assert their presence as much as melody or rhythm. Honig presents listeners with an astute practice that’s concerned less with building from the ground up than with uncovering what happens when disparate textures and structures are brought into close contact with one another. (Alex Cobb, 2026)

Belgian violinist and composer Elisabeth Klinck announces the debut album of her ensemble, Klinck Trio, on VIERNULVIER Records. My Hair is Everywhere will be released on November 7, 2025 on vinyl LP and through all digital platforms.

Rooted in improvisation and guided by openness, the Klinck Trio — Adia Vanheerentals (saxophone, voice), Maya Dhondt (piano, voice), and Elisabeth Klinck (violin, voice) —crafts music where sound and silence are equally vital.

Their debut album is an exploration of fragility, unfolding like a delicate conversation in which each note is chosen with intention and every pause carries presence.

Recorded in the summer of 2024 at Studio Ledeberg, My Hair Is Everywhere captures a moment in time: three musicians meeting in sound, each bringing their own timbre, language and natural state of being into dialogue. Klinck offers seeds of material —metaphors, sketches, sonic ideas — that the ensemble shapes into fully formed pieces. The result is an album that stands complete, yet carries within it the openness to unfold further in live performance, where new layers and resonances can emerge.

In the spirit of American composer and pianist Meredith Monk, the trio embraces lightness andvulnerability, crafting soundscapes that feel both childlike in their intimacy and expansive in their emotional reach. My Hair is Everywhere balances melancholy, tenderness, and harmonic interplay with silence, breath, and resonance—the subtle negative space where music continues beyond the notes themselves. By recording in close proximity, every detail emerges: the strike of piano pedals, the clicking of saxophone keys, the intake of breath, and the faint displacement of air. Textures of dragging violin, whispered fragments, and soft humming become almost tangible, drawing the listener fully into this intimate, enveloping present
moment.

Above all, this compelling debut is an invitation to listen differently: to enter a transformative space where three distinct musical voices find each other in fragility.
The artwork, created by French artist Annabelle Guetatra, reflects the album’s sense of lightness through color and playful collage work.

New from Ulla’s 28912 label comes a gorgeous bouquet of lowercase wonders from Justin Cantrell aka J and the Woolen Stars, part of Picnic, and the brains behind the excellent Daisart and se Dessaisir Publishing labels.

»Puff« is a glistening pool of lush refractions and music-box lullabies, featuring an array of acoustic instruments and fragile foley sounds that are gently peeled away until all we’re left with are the faded outlines of half-remembered songs.

A sound that roots itself in the prophetic machinations of artists like Fennesz and the languid Japanese minimalism of Fourcolour or Moskitoo, »Puff« strikes a delicate balance, sounding as bewitchingly informal as a Tenniscoats set, but also consistently muddling the perception of high and low-brow sound. Cantrell’s skill lies in a sort of sonic conjuration, bamboozling the brains of those of us who grew up listening to stepped-on audio via ramshackle RealMedia streams by alchemising the content, turning found sound into gold. Just tell us you don’t get chills from hearing the bitrate-impaired acoustic guitar on »Dirty like an angel«, set against a backdrop of windy, harmonic detritus. It’s both meticulously contrived and gloriously off-the-cuff, like one of Vincent Gallo’s classic »When«-era demos reduced down to 96kbps.

Similarly, »She knows just what to say« provokes faint memories of folk music, with impromptu fiddle parts gently steamrolled to create a sound that’s nothing short of exquisite, like pressed flowers rediscovered in an old, discarded book. Even the more palpably electronic elements are hand sculpted in a way that belies the era we’re living in - it’s music for a digital age that sounds oddly unplugged, flawed and human. An unmistakably lovely antidote to the opiating nostalgia of our time.

There is a particular kind of strangeness that arrives on long drives across Europe. Flat light, service stations and fields stretching endlessly past the window. It might look mundane at first glance, but becomes faintly surreal when the tiredness of touring blurs the edges of everything.

That feeling became the quiet engine behind Driving Through Belgium, the debut solo album from Anton Pearson, best known as one of the guitarists in respected post-punk outfit Squid. The title grew from a track that felt like the record’s centrepiece, which itself came from the recurring image of extensive periods on the road across the continent. It is a record shaped in the margins of touring, and finessed in the in-between hours.

Across six pieces, Pearson leans into atmosphere, texture and space. It is ambient in spirit, adjacent to contemporary classical in feeling, but composed less with notes in mind than with sound itself. The compositions rarely began with harmony or melody, with Pearson instead responding to his environment and sounds in real time, placing trust in his instinct.

Although initial inspiration came from the road, the album was recorded in a studio he shares in Brighton, and marks his first fully solo project made in that setting. It gave him access to not only new tools and techniques, but a hitherto un-experienced freedom. Much of the process began experimentally, feeding instruments into unfamiliar chains, pitching loops into unexpected registers and playing with previously unused synthesizers simply to see what they might reveal. Many of the sounds were created out of pure curiosity, wanting to understand a piece of equipment or technology, and then following wherever it led.

The album was built with this experimentation at its core, as Pearson would layer then extract, processing stacks of sound until things blur and confuse. Guitars dissolve into drones, a Pianet Clavinet dances against muddier textures whilst a Korg PS-1000 occasionally cuts through with its glittering top end. On ‘Driving Past the Muscular Cows in Belgium’, a flat, still drone is pushed through valve amps until it growls and tightens with tension, before receding again. Even the trumpet, which Pearson freely admits he is not technically proficient at, is embraced in its naivety, its squeaks left intact rather than corrected. The twin ‘Tintinnabulation’ pieces frame the record with looping, pitched bell like tones, accidental discoveries that became structural anchors. Meanwhile, ‘Teeth to Cut the Grass’ deliberately introduces abrasion, some of the harshest textures on the record, a refusal to become passive background music.


That embrace of imperfection is central. In contrast to the hyper-analytical precision of his band, Pearson was keen to honour first takes. If something felt good, it would stay. The end result is an album that favours looseness, instinct and the energy of creation itself. If Squid thrives on propulsion and tension, Anton Pearson finds his energy in suspension on Driving Through Belgium. It is curious rather than declarative, creating a space where experimentation feels playful again.

Following their 2024 debut „La Grande Accumulation“ Anadol (Gözen Atila) and Marie Klock return with „Manivelles“.

Hailed by The Quietus as a duo that pushes each other to "greater heights of oddness" the pair produces an undefinable mix of folk, kraut, and pop nested inside expansive organ-based arrangements. The album‘s nine tracks emerged from intensive improvisations in Paris and Istanbul, brought to life with an odd mix of tools: from Prophet-5 and Jupiter-6 synths to mechanical Pianet clatter and even a salad spinner repurposed as a drone.

Klock‘s French lyrics navigate the miniature and the cosmic, exploring the small tragedies of everyday life - botched holiday gatherings, lingering heartbreak or the absence of a loved one.

Born from a moment of catharsis during an Istanbul earthquake that ended a period of writer‘s block, the record draws its material from lived experience and a lasting friendship.

Its title „Manivelles“ - meaning "cranks" - hints at the musical partners creative penchant for generating songs through friction and playful contradictions. From the shouted pastiche of "Symposium" to the sparse synth pulses of "Une Grande Tragédie Polonaise", it‘s an album with a wonderfully wonky heart that sounds like faint signals from a beautifully failing transmitter.

The concept for this one is as wonderfully odd as we have ever heard: Argentinian Federico Durand draws on his collection of Cinderella stamps and looks to translate their modest scale into sparse arrangements and carefully spaced notes. Small motifs drift across analogue synth tones, all shaped with tape hiss and soft saturation. Pieces move slowly, often built from repeating figures that shift in pitch and melody, feel tentative, sometimes dissolving into low drones or faint harmonic clouds. There is little percussion, with rhythm implied through looping patterns and subtle timing changes. Tracks favour brevity and minimalism and the result leans into a darker mood than his earlier work, with a muted, slightly worn character that makes it all the more real.

zake has long mastered the art of go-slow pacing with gradual changes in the density and timbre of his synths. Here, four extended ambient pieces unfold through slow-moving synth layers and sustained tonal clusters shaped by hospital room stillness on this new one from the ever present ambient don, zake. 'Hh I' opens with low-frequency drones and faint harmonic shifts that hover without a rhythmic anchor. 'Hh II' introduces higher tones with subtle detuning, creating tension. 'Hh III' darkens through thicker layering and reduced harmonic movement while 'Hh IV' thins the texture with long decay tails. Another immersive gem.

On his fourth solo album, and debut work for Nick Klein's Psychic Liberation imprint, Henrik Munkeby Nørstebø presents »Faint Light Blackens«, a negotiation between the atomized instrumentation of the solo trombone is pushed towards a full range wall of sound over the concise sprawl of seven distinct acts on two sides of a vinyl record.

The seven acts that make up the album were developed specifically for recording within Emanuel Vigeland’s »Tomba Emmanuelle«. The fresco within the mausoleum anchors themes of existential weight, ripe with weighted imagery of love, birth, and death. The solemn space is a cavernous acoustic terrain wherein reverberant reverie makes it almost impossible to speak aloud, let alone sing through horn and electronics. This chamber's expanse is baked into the compositional directions employed on »Faint Light Blackens«.

Experientially, the record was produced in a long form performance gesture, with no overdubs. While edited to fit the record format, no additional post production coloring took place. Here Nørstebø shines as an instrumentalist, wherein the symbiosis of the site specific architecture and his sound sources are synced. At once musing and brooding, the gamut of emotive sonic landscapes is at play for a fully dynamic listening experience. The territory in Nørstebø’s vocabulary through interplay with the mausoleum is not vaulted , unlike Vigeland’s urn’ed ashes. On »Faint Light Blackens«, the spirit takes bound beyond the cavern and reanimates the listeners stereo alters for a holistic listening experience of perfectly challenging electroacoustic endeavors.

Henrik Munkeby Nørstebø – acoustic & amplified trombone, monotron, feedback, sound files.
Recorded by Espen Reinertsen October 10. and 11. 2023 in Tomba Emmanuelle, Oslo Norway.
Cover Photos and mix by Henrik Munkeby Nørstebø
Mastered by Helge Sten (Deathprod) at Audio Virus Lab

Mighty Theodore and The Custodian Of Records have crafted the quintessential soundtrack for the bleakest of snow days with their new collaborative album, "The Colder It Gets". Bookended by the sound of howling winds, the project offers a hypnotic listening experience where the temperature seems to drop with every track. While the production is immersive, the only warmth to be found radiates from the crackle of Custodian’s vinyl samples. Theodore matches this atmosphere with layered lyricism that explores deep isolation and the struggle to trust that things can improve, though a faint sense of hope remains buried beneath the metaphorical drifts.
Releasing via URBNET this winter, the album invites listeners to bundle up and embrace the chill. The project is bolstered by an impressive lineup of guest features, including Lee Scott, Fat Ray, Thirstin' Howl The 3rd, and Farma G. Additionally, the release includes a thematic bonus track titled "Christmas Missed Us" featuring Von Pea. As the winter solstice arrives, prepare to get lost in a hip-hop experience that proves the music only gets better The Colder It Gets.

Two turntables and a microphone. There is a truth in the clarity of that simple coda, a truth that also belies the breadth of what is possible within its confines. Sometimes you gotta get reminded. I Guess U Had To Be There, the new album from NYC rapper ELUCID and veteran producer Sebb Bash, is one of those ones. So fresh it sounds like it was made tomorrow, but bet money you could put this on in ’89 and get heads bopping.
There are moments in music when masters of their craft cross paths at the height of their respective powers—records like Madvillainy, Liquid Swords, Dr. Octagonecologyst, and Hell Hath No Fury—where the result is more than the sum of its parts. ELUCID and Sebb Bash find themselves in this heady, seemingly effortless ephemera on I Guess U Had To Be There. Everything is both familiar and groundbreaking. The beats shift and flip under ELUCID’s feet but he tightropes it all, delivery nimble as a mountain goat, producer and rapper moving in perfect synchronization. Some shining stars make memorable appearances: billy woods, Breezly Brewin, Estee Nack, Shabaka Hutchings. But this is a two-man show, and the duo keep the spotlight where it belongs. I Guess U Had To Be There is a captivating, convention-defying listen and a high-water mark for two of the best artists in the genre.

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

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

Shrunken Elvis ist ein Trio aus Nashville, bestehend aus Spencer Cullum, Sean Thompson und Rich Ruth - drei erfahrenen Musikern, die ihre Liebe zu genreübergreifender Instrumentalmusik verbindet. Die Gruppe entstand aus langen Autofahrten durch Europa, Winter-Jam-Sessions und dem gemeinsamen Bestreben, Musik eher aus dem Bauch heraus als aus Ambitionen heraus zu machen. Cullum, ein in East London geborener Pedal-Steel-Gitarrist, spielte bereits mit Angel Olsen, Lambchop, Miranda Lambert und Billy Strings gespielt und zwei Solo-Folk-Psych-LPs bei Full Time Hobby veröffentlicht. Thompson kam mit Gnarwhal und Promised Land Sound in der DIY-Szene von Nashville groß heraus und tourte später mit Margo Price und Skyway Man. Ruth schafft unter dem Namen Rich Ruth (Third Man Records) immersive Soloarbeiten, die spirituellen Jazz, Ambient und Post-Rock miteinander verbinden. Ihre Anfänge gehen auf eine Europatournee im Jahr 2022 zurück, die sie im Rahmen von Cullums Soloalbum unternahmen. Mit einem kompakten Setup aus Gitarren, Pedal Steel und Synthesizern in einem VW Passat zusammengepfercht, begannen sie unterwegs zu komponieren - und entwickelten eine gemeinsame musikalische Sprache, die sie in ihre Wintersessions in Nashville mitnahmen. Sie nahmen in einem Studio in einem Schuppen um einen Heizstrahler herum auf und fingen den Geist dieser Reisen mit Spontaneität und Vertrauen ein. Ihr Debütalbum zielt nicht darauf ab, individuelle Fähigkeiten in den Vordergrund zu stellen, sondern die Instrumente zu etwas völlig Neuem verschmelzen zu lassen. Mit der Einstellung ,keine Ziele, nur Ideen" schufen sie Musik, die sich ungezwungen, explorativ und lebendig anfühlt. Verwurzelt in den Traditionen von Kosmischer Musik, Jazz-Fusion, Elektronik und Ambient, lässt sich Shrunken Elvis von Alice Coltrane, Michael Rother, Pat Metheny, Ashra und KLF inspirieren lassen - zusammen mit visuellen Einflüssen wie ECM-Albumcovern und den Filmen von Kurosawa und Bergman. Gemischt von Jake Davis (William Tyler) und mit Artwork von Max Kinghorn-Mills (Hollow Hand) ist ihr Debüt ein leise drängendes, zutiefst kollaboratives Album - Musik, die ohne Erwartungen entstanden ist, aber voller Absicht.

L. Jacobs releases his second album, Behind the Great Curve, on the Belgian label Blickwinkel. Featuring contributions from Milan W., Sarah Yu Zeebroek, and Joachim Badenhorst, the follow-up to the surprising debut Enthusiasm was initially composed and recorded in Jacobs’ small attic room and later refined at Milan W.’s Van den Nest Studio, where W. also handled production and mixing.

A line or outline which gradually deviates from being straight for some or all of its length.

Behind the Great Curve explores and celebrates the beauty and universality of the abstract notion above and what we commonly refer to as the curve. Its presence, allegedly, is everywhere. It is a form that appears visually, mathematically, and symbolically — a line that suggests motion, time, expectation, and impermanence.

This album aims to listen to all of this — the poetry, the irony, and the faint background hum of modern life — with quiet curiosity. Within a gently meandering, synthesized landscape, a collection of dreamlike compositions unfolds: delicate melodies, sparse percussion, warm buzzing synths, and fragments of field recordings coexist in carefully measured imperfection. Colorful yet minimal in aesthetic, the album does not seek to explain the curve, but to follow it.

Carlos Giffoni reconnects with Thurston Moore for two sides of loose-limbed axe noise, oscillator worship and hard-phased, Spacemen 3-style feedback.

Giffoni’s been on a roll recently. Since the No Fun founder returned to the scene with »Vain¡, a genius set of synth mutations that appeared in iDEAL back in 2018, he’s been slowly ramping up the activity, dropping the celestial »Dream Walker« on Stephen O’Malley’s Ideologic Organ in 2024 and following it with »Pendulum«, a bumper compendium of collaborations, just a few weeks back. For those who remember Giffoni’s first trip round the block, he was always able to hold his own chopping it up in person, not just by mail.

Just scrub through his early catalog and you’ll see collabs with Nels Cline and Chris Corsano, Merzbow, Jim O’Rourke and Lasse Marhaug, and of course, Thurston Moore. The two rekindle their thing on »IGUANA’« picking up where 2001’s fabled »4 Guitars Live« performance left off. Here, Giffoni straddles a tabletop synth and FX while Moore attacks his signature Jazzmaster with a drumstick and a screwdriver – vibes fully intact.

Moore is on blistering form, sounding as if he’s taken a step back to refresh his approach since the early ‘00s when he could be spotted moonlighting on any number of basement-adjacent noise sides. Sawing at his strings and turning the guitar into a shrieking resonator, he leaves only faint vapours of the classic Sonic Youth sound as opiating accents on his animalistic wails and rumbles. On the opening half, his whammy – assisted shreds are balanced out by Giffoni’s off-world whirrs and airlocked vibrations, building a dense wall of noise towards an unexpectedly elegiac conclusion. At some point, Giffoni’s rasping churr transforms into a simmering shudder and Moore’s into hymnal drones – squint a bit and you could almost call it pretty.

Of course, they ramp things up on the flip, dissolving the melancholia with smokey white noise and twangy, post-Derek Bailey chimes that Giffoni accompanies with aggy oscillations. Like every great taped noise set, the recording quality is crucial - »IGUANA« was captured from the pit by Guillermo Hernandez Avendano, the dad of Lia Miranda who provides the cover photo. It’s that kinda show.

In many ways, OLDE OUTLIER rise from the legacy of Australia’s late Innsmouth — a cult band whose 2014 debut Consumed by Elder Sign endures as an underground classic. The connection is more than symbolic: guitarist Askew, vocalist Appleton, and bassist Greenbank all passed through Innsmouth’s ranks, while Beau Dyer now leads this new incarnation after years spent shaping the sound of Innsmouth and the earlier project Grenade.

From Shallow Lives to Shallow Graves marks OLDE OUTLIER’s recorded debut, a four-track, thirty-five-minute descent into their own cavernous realm. While faint echoes of Innsmouth’s inspirations — Armoured Angel and early Samael — linger, the band draw from a broader and far more obscure constellation. Shades of Amon Goeth, Martyrium, Head of the Demon, and Florida’s Equinox collide with the spectral drift of Ophthalamia and early Katatonia and Tiamat, all eroded and blackened into something untraceable.

Despite these depths, OLDE OUTLIER avoid any sense of technical indulgence. Their sound carries a rough, deliberate simplicity — a raw and smoky power that pushes each of the four long tracks forward with unhurried certainty. The songwriting unfolds through patient repetition and subtle shifts, allowing motifs to seep into place and gradually hypnotise. Appleton’s low gutturals bring a grim, expressive edge reminiscent of early Septic Flesh or Thou Art Lord, while the more open, lead-driven riffing imparts a distinctly archaic heavy metal aura that separates this band from their origins.

At many moments, that union of grit and atmosphere surpasses even Innsmouth’s achievements. Accented by well-placed clean and chorused guitar lines, From Shallow Lives to Shallow Graves becomes an immersive and strangely timeless work — a glimpse into an ancient, dimly lit world where OLDE OUTLIER feel less like a new formation and more like something unearthed from a forgotten past.

Headline: Alexis Taylor von Hot Chip setzt seine Soloreise fort.

Alexis Taylor zählt zu den markantesten Singer-Songwritern des UK, der mit seiner unverwechselbaren Stimme ein beachtliches Solowerk geschaffen hat. "Paris In The Spring" ist sein bisher persönlichstes Album, das individuelle wie auch universelle Gefühle offenbart. Die Texte scheuen sich nicht vor eindringlichen Themen, doch musikalisch präsentiert sich die LP unbeschwert, beschwingt und zeitgemäß, mit eleganten Disco-House-Elementen, sinnlichen Basslinien und von Vangelis inspirierten Klanglandschaften.

Taylor hat für diese lebendige Klangwelt namhafte Künstler ins Boot geholt, darunter Nicolas Godin (Air), The Avalanches, Lola Kirke, Oli Bayston, Étienne de Crécy, Elizabeth White (Pale Blue) und Green Gartside (Scritti Politti). In dieser Welt trifft ein intimer Country-Stil auf die eingängige Popmelodie von Paul McCartney, den futuristischen Funk von Sly & The Family Stone und, so Taylor, "Synthesizer, die im Regen stehen gelassen wurden". Hier verschmelzen britisches Americana und französisches Flair – irgendwo auf dem Mars. Das Ergebnis ist ein Album über die Freiheit von Zwängen, von Vorurteilen, von Genregrenzen. Taylor experimentiert mit verschiedensten Musikstilen – Country, Folk, Disco – und hat sie zu etwas Einzigartigem verwoben.

Zwei Plattenspieler und ein Mikrofon. In der Klarheit dieser einfachen Schlussformel liegt eine Wahrheit - eine Wahrheit, die zugleich erahnen lässt, wie groß die Möglichkeiten innerhalb dieser Grenzen sind. Manchmal muss man daran erinnert werden.I Guess U Had To Be There, das neue Album des New Yorker Rappers ELUCID und des erfahrenen Produzenten Sebb Bash, ist genau so ein Fall. So frisch, als wäre es morgen entstanden - und doch kann man darauf wetten, dass man es auch 1989 hätte auflegen können und sofort alle Köpfe mitgenickt hätten.Es gibt Momente in der Musik, in denen Meister ihres Fachs sich auf dem Höhepunkt ihrer jeweiligen Schaffenskraft begegnen - Alben wie Madvillainy, Liquid Swords, Dr. Octagonecologyst oder Hell Hath No Fury -, bei denen das Ergebnis mehr ist als die Summe seiner Teile. ELUCID und Sebb Bash bewegen sich auf I Guess U Had To Be There genau in dieser berauschenden, scheinbar mühelosen Sphäre.Alles wirkt zugleich vertraut und bahnbrechend. Die Beats verschieben und wenden sich unter ELUCIDs Füßen, doch er balanciert sie wie auf einem Drahtseil - seine Performance so beweglich wie die einer Bergziege, Produzent und Rapper in perfekter Synchronität. Einige leuchtende Stars haben unvergessliche Gastauftritte: billy woods, Breezly Brewin, Estee Nack und Shabaka Hutchings. Doch im Kern ist dies eine Zwei-Mann-Show, und das Duo hält den Fokus genau dort, wo er hingehört.I Guess U Had To Be There ist ein fesselndes, konventionssprengendes Hörerlebnis und ein neuer Höhepunkt im Schaffen zweier der besten Künstler dieses Genres.

This new volume in the “City Music Tokyo” series, curated by Kunimond Takiguchi (Ryusenkei), focuses on Jazz Funk. From among crossover, Japanese jazz,
and soundtrack works released by Nippon Columbia, Takiguchi has carefully selected urban and sophisticated tracks that resonate with his musical sensibility.

Each piece carries a faint scent of the Showa era, evoking words like “night,” “drive,” “dandyism,” “car chase,” “city,” “hard-boiled,” and “man and woman.”

Selected, supervised, and annotated by Kunimond Takiguchi (Ryusenkei).

** Highly limited edition CLEAR VINYL VERSION**

Pt.1 of 2

Gigi Masin's sparkling sonic magic leads us to the light in “Implodendo in una accecante oscurità” (Imploding in a blinding darkness). The mirror reflects nothing but a faint, unfamiliar, mysteriously hostile face, but a glimmer survives, evoked by a painfully solemn romanticism that is salvific, glimmers of light bounce off broad synthetic volutes, a bewitching ambient, airy quiet, they spread, a few veins of darkness shine through, aesthetic beauty equates to clear spirituality, sax and female voices, the elegy that intertwines piano and vocal loops, that omnipresent melancholy, nostalgia, reassuring, which is openness to tomorrow. It is the moment of light, the powerful feeling that nothing is lost, that what awaits to be grasped is more than a remnant, perhaps an overcoming, light that “is not what it shows but what it reveals”, that light that becomes memory that does not need to illuminate to be perceived where it most needs to spread, where darkness has resided for too long

Pt.2 of 2

Gigi Masin's sparkling sonic magic leads us to the light in “Implodendo in una accecante oscurità” (Imploding in a blinding darkness). The mirror reflects nothing but a faint, unfamiliar, mysteriously hostile face, but a glimmer survives, evoked by a painfully solemn romanticism that is salvific, glimmers of light bounce off broad synthetic volutes, a bewitching ambient, airy quiet, they spread, a few veins of darkness shine through, aesthetic beauty equates to clear spirituality, sax and female voices, the elegy that intertwines piano and vocal loops, that omnipresent melancholy, nostalgia, reassuring, which is openness to tomorrow. It is the moment of light, the powerful feeling that nothing is lost, that what awaits to be grasped is more than a remnant, perhaps an overcoming, light that “is not what it shows but what it reveals”, that light that becomes memory that does not need to illuminate to be perceived where it most needs to spread, where darkness has resided for too long

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.

Interstitial Spaces is Martin Brandlmayr’s debut release on Faitiche. In this award-winning radio collage, the well-known drummer and composer (Radian, Polwechsel) explores the quiet moments in music and film recordings.

The last notes of a piece of music fade out in the space. The pianist and the violinist remain frozen in place, holding their breath. The sound engineer sits silently at the desk. Once he has switched off his tape machine, the dull drone of a ship’s horn is heard in the distance. Otherwise, not a sound. Or was there something else hidden in the white noise?

Interstitial Spaces is based on short excerpts from music recordings, films, TV adverts and field recordings. Brandlmayr takes these quiet scenes, intervals in which nothing seems to happen, and brings them into the foreground, subjecting them to a microscopic spotlight. Moments in which one hears only the space itself, or the subtle presence of someone in the space: faint breathing, footsteps and the soft creak of a chair. We also hear preparations for an orchestra rehearsal: the musicians are all busy tuning their instruments, talking to each other, the concert has not yet begun.

This leads to a shift in perception: incidental details hidden in the hubbub of voices or in the silence suddenly take on a leading role. In the empty spaces, we discover various shades of noise, sharpening our awareness of sonic peculiarities. In a gentle rhythm, Brandlmayr’s radio collage offers a sequence of strange, not immediately identifiable sounds that are woven in the second part into a dense structure. At the end, the carefully captured sounds are released back into the empty space. Interstitial Spaces is a bold spectacle that celebrates the eventful uneventfulness.

Mit England Screaming kehrt Wreckless Eric zurück zu Songs, die er zwischen 1982 und 1984 schrieb - und die ursprünglich auf dem wenig beachteten Album A Roomful Of Monkeys erschienen. Vierzig Jahre später hat Eric Goulden diese Stücke neu aufgenommen und ihnen die klangliche Tiefe und emotionale Ehrlichkeit verliehen, die sie verdienen. Das Ergebnis ist ein kraftvolles, raues Album, das Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander verbindet. Eric spielt die meisten Instrumente selbst, unterstützt von Sam Shepherd (Drums), Amy Rigby und Marc Valentine (Backing Vocals, Piano) sowie dem Performancekünstler Graham Beck. Die Songs handeln von Drogen, Bankrott, Brautmode, Selbsttäuschung und dem Scheitern - Themen, die Eric mit bissiger Klarheit und schwarzem Humor verarbeitet. England Screaming ist ein musikalischer Befreiungsschlag, der die Reife eines erfahrenen Songwriters mit der Energie seiner frühen Jahre vereint.

Mit England Screaming kehrt Wreckless Eric zurück zu Songs, die er zwischen 1982 und 1984 schrieb - und die ursprünglich auf dem wenig beachteten Album A Roomful Of Monkeys erschienen. Vierzig Jahre später hat Eric Goulden diese Stücke neu aufgenommen und ihnen die klangliche Tiefe und emotionale Ehrlichkeit verliehen, die sie verdienen. Das Ergebnis ist ein kraftvolles, raues Album, das Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander verbindet. Eric spielt die meisten Instrumente selbst, unterstützt von Sam Shepherd (Drums), Amy Rigby und Marc Valentine (Backing Vocals, Piano) sowie dem Performancekünstler Graham Beck. Die Songs handeln von Drogen, Bankrott, Brautmode, Selbsttäuschung und dem Scheitern - Themen, die Eric mit bissiger Klarheit und schwarzem Humor verarbeitet. England Screaming ist ein musikalischer Befreiungsschlag, der die Reife eines erfahrenen Songwriters mit der Energie seiner frühen Jahre vereint.

E23 Records is an independent label from Amersfoort that releases music moving between electro, wave, EBM, and acid—sounds that feel familiar, but not quite at ease. Each release is built with care, made to be both an object to collect and a small joke at the universe’s expense. Patterns appear where they want to, chance plays its role, and sometimes the numbers line up in ways that feel more than coincidental. Tune in, and see what reveals itself.

E23 Records launches its catalog with three dark electro transmissions from Amersfoort residents Son of 8-Bits, Mavanov, and Law Of Fives. Opening with Son of 8-Bits’ “Deliverance”, the record sets an ominous tone: heavy bass pressure and sharp machine rhythms push forward with a cold, driving pulse built for late hours. Mavanov’s “Dark Romanticism” drifts into sparse, hypnotic territory, where cold mechanics meet faint traces of emotion. Law of Fives’ “Primer” closes the trip with an urgent workout that turns rhythm into a labyrinth—metallic strikes, pulsing bass, and restless sequences coiling together, building toward moments where chaos threatens to take over but never quite does.

Together, the three cuts form a statement of intent: E001 is moody, uncompromising electro with just enough strangeness to keep the floor on edge. A first chapter that hints at many more signals to come.

Calling a Deicide album “more accessible” is kind of like calling a velociraptor less lethal than a T-Rex…you’re gonna die either way. But on 1997’s Serpents of the Light, the fourth album from the Tampa death metal quartet, Glen Benton’s rage-filled imprecations are a little more intelligible and songs like “Slave to the Cross” and “Blame It on God” do sport choruses that verge upon being hooky (if you have a meathook in mind). The anti-religion invective remains unabated, however… this remains music in extremis despite the stripped-down production. For its first-ever standalone U.S. LP release, we’ve remastered Serpents of the Light for vinyl and given it an Orange Smoke pressing complete with an inner sleeve featuring lyrics and a 12” x 24” poster of the cover image. Not for even the faintly faint of heart