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Brussels-based accordionist Suzan Peeters releases her debut album Cassotto on the Belgian label blickwinkel. With Cassotto, she opens a door into a hidden chamber of sound. The title refers to the “cassotto” — a small resonating chamber inside the accordion that warms, softens, and deepens its tone. Listening to this record feels as if you’ve stepped into that room yourself, enveloped in a world where intimacy and grandeur collide.

Although this is her first release, Peeters is already recognised as one of the most promising names in Belgium’s experimental music scene. Her distinctive live shows — from leading venues across Belgium to a packed Café Oto in London — have earned her a reputation for combining accordion, electronics and unconventional objects such as a massage board into a compelling whole where contrasts come together in an unexpected way. Cassotto captures this approach in recorded form, giving listeners the same sense of immediacy as her concerts, but framed within the intimate space suggested by the album’s title.

While the cassotto chamber naturally gives the accordion a soft and velvety voice, Peeters harnesses that warmth to explore extremes — from hushed detail to bold, expansive gestures that fill the room. As such, the album moves between the acoustic and the electronic, the tender and the abrasive, the static and the dynamic, the traditional and the experimental.

With Cassotto, Suzan Peeters presents a debut that places the accordion at the centre of an adventurous and contemporary sound world — one that invites to discover how far an accordion can reach when tradition and imagination intertwine.

Suzan Peeters (*1999) is a Belgian accordionist, composer, and experimentalist. She is constantly looking for new timbres and sound textures within the accordion, pushing its acoustic spectrum to its limits by manipulating the interplay between her body and the body of her instrument.
Suzan studied classical accordion at KASK & Conservatorium in Ghent and at the Royal Danish Academy of Music in Copenhagen. She is currently studying Live Electronics at the Royal Conservatory of Brussels.

Solo Suono is the first collaboration between saxophonist Filippo Ansaldi and electronic musician Simone Sims Longo, both based in Cuneo, Italy. Solo Suono is an album between acoustic gesture and electronic treatment, beyond the classical while starting from the classical. Breath, amplified mechanics, residual sounds, expressive freedom, and different forms that integrate electroacoustic composition. Passing through looped gestures, electronic processes, and concrete sound explorations, it investigates textures that blur the line between organic and synthetic, emphasizing subtle timbral shifts, evolving patterns, and the interaction between chance and structure. Fragile, immersive, and at times meditative, the music opens a space where the listener can inhabit both the immediacy of performance and the expanded sound world of electronic manipulation. Solo Suono is a phrase open to multiple interpretations, a naïve description of music.

Aitcher Clark steps out from his work as one half of LOFN (Veyl, 2021) with a first solo long-player that draws a sharp line between the club and the cinema.
The 6-track LP moves with intent across ambient space, industrial techno frameworks, and restrained neoclassical harmony. It favors patience over peaks, detail over spectacle, and a narrative arc that rewards a
start-to-finish listen.
The campaign begins September 19th with the lead single “Improperly Planned Experience”, an industrialleaning cut driven by a relentless drum pattern and an eerie, immersive atmosphere. Stark and physical, it sets the tone for the album with its focus on tension, texture, and shadow rather than melody. On the same day, Clark will debut a new live and visual show at Lunchmeat Festival in Prague in collaboration with visual artist OXOO, translating the record into an immersive set where sound design and reactive visuals lock to the micro-gestures that run through the album. The performance is built around custom stems, live resampling, and dynamic lighting cues that mirror the music’s push and pull.
Across the LP, Clark threads field-recorded texture with precision drum programming and layered harmonies, avoiding predictable drops in favor of pressure that accumulates over time. The palette is cool and tactile: detuned pads, clipped low-end, and percussive details at the edge of audibility. Moments of clarity, strings, voice-like synths, negative space, arrive as structural markers rather than ornaments.
For Veyl, the album sits comfortably within a catalog that values forward motion and atmosphere, while opening a more composition-driven lane. For listeners who followed LOFN’s 2021 release, this solo debut widens the frame: less collaborative call-and-response, more solitary architecture, with the same focus on tension and timbre. The live show with OXOO extends that idea beyond the record, using visual rhythm and color to render the music’s internal logic in real time.

Akhira Sano is a Tokyo-based artist working across sound, drawing, installation, and video. His practice finds generative potential for music in life's fleeting incidents, etching meaning from unassuming spaces and resonances. With releases on 12k, LAAPS, IIKKI, and The Trilogy Tapes, Sano has steadily carved out a distinctive voice within minimal and experimental music - one that privileges attentiveness and patience over spectacle.

"To Material Past", Sano's debut for SWIMS, carries this thread with a single 30-minute work built solely using glockenspiel tones and field recordings from his local neighbourhood. This is a night walk with no map or end point; Sano follows irregular, coiling fragments that extend to form a tessellating luminous whole - like a subliminal mass of tree roots quietly shifting the concrete slabs beneath our feet.

Under this faded gauze of gestures and interactions, Sano's glockenspiel interjects like a grandfather clock, softly marking the partitions that make up a day's collected experience; clicking and chiming like the sleeping brain, as it sifts and catalogues a lifetime's ephemera of thoughts, faces and puzzles.

“sitting in the terminal at Barcelona airport, health safety warnings echo through empty architecture. feeling slow, and fast, out of sync with rituals and routines. structure and rhythm disintegrate into micro gestures appearing in random order, a daily psychedelia... amid all of the chaos and distraction in the last few years, it’s only through letting go that I've found solid ground to stand on.”

These are some of the experiences and reflections that gave shape to Slipstream, a hallucinatory mini-album by the artist PVAS and the fourth release on Objekt's label, Kapsela. Slipstream is an aural document of PVAS's interior life, conceived not as a grab-bag of DJ-friendly tracks (although it’s clearly inspired by the club) but as a single, delicately crafted artistic statement. The entire record is shrouded in a flickering haze, worn through by smudged breakbeats and wiry drum machines. “Wetland”, with its swampy percussion and crystalline arps, echoes T++ and Kraftwerk. The radiant incandescence of “Gathering Drift” recalls GAS or Monolake's “Hong Kong.” Sampled breakbeats dip and swerve asymmetrically through “Boba” and “Terminal”. Across the record, textures and voices are reshaped by PVAS's homemade algo-software, UMT, which, in PVAS’ own words, “reconstructs one audio file by sampling another, resulting in output that merges their aesthetic qualities, creating rhythm with non-rhythmic sound files and abusing the stereo field.” But the most striking union of technology and poetic self-exploration comes at the end of the record, in the title track, from words murmured through a classic vocoder:



“when i stop framing myself as a boundaried stone

immovable, and powerful, and heavy

when i stop figuring my deepest space as my own

something which i am solely responsible

i surrender, i surrender”



PVAS is Jordan Juras, a Berlin-based artist who grew up outside of Windsor, Ontario. He has released solo EPs on Isla and xpq?, and is half the duo NUG (3XL, West Mineral Ltd.). In addition to developing music software professionally, he has used his UMT software on records by Lyra Pramuk and Dylan Kerr. Slipstream was recorded from 2022 to 2025.

Written and produced by PVAS

Mixed by TJ Hertz

Mastered by Anne Taegert at D&M

Artwork and design by Brodie Kaman

Returning with its final instalments, Die Schachtel's Decay Music series extends its explorations of inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract with Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s “Liminale” and Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, two astounding electroacoustic gestures of blurred space and time, plumbing complexity of meaning bound to sonority. Creatively groundbreaking and inspired, radically rethinking the terms of what ambient music can be perceived to be, they stand among the most striking efforts to appear within the series to date.

Reconfiguring the notion of bridge building on a multitude of terms, it feels fitting that the tenth and final installment of Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, was co-created by an artist whose work featured in the first suite of LPs issued by Brian Eno’s Obscure Records in 1975, the groundwork toward which Decay Music’s own efforts nod. Since that auspicious debut, “New and Rediscovered Musical Instruments” — his split with Max Eastley — David Toop has been regarded as a pioneer in British experimental and improvised music: a sonic voyager who has continuously challenged the sources and materiality of sound through rigorously thoughtful performances, a vast catalog of recordings, and a steady flow of highly influential texts. Be it as a member of Alterations, his group breaking group with Peter Cusack, Terry Day, and Steve Beresford that ran between 1977 to 1986, or through is noteworthy work with artists like Rie Nakajima, Thurston Moore, Paul Burwell, Rhodri Davies, Lee Patterson, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Akio Suzuki, Elaine Mitchener, and numerous others, collaboration has always played a central role within Toop’s singular practice, but few can claim the sprawling sense of beauty and intimacy that’s achieved by “And I Entered Into Sleep”, his first recorded outing with Sergio Armaroli.

A composer, percussionist, vibraphonist, and multidisciplinary artist, Armaroli has been issuing radical and forward-thinking musical gestures for decades, working as one of Italy’s most noteworthy interpreters of composer’s like Giacinto Scelsi, John Cage, Franco Evangelisti, Giancarlo Schiaffini, and Walter Branchi, as both a solo performer and member of the highly regarded Rib Trio, as well as forging a singular practice as a composer, intertwining his efforts as a painter, concrete percussionist, fragmentary poet and sound artist, within a total art, rooted “within the language of jazz and improvisation” as an “extension of the concept of art”. Like Toop, Armaroli’s career has been populated by many collaborators, notably with Riccardo Sinigaglia, Alvin Curran, and Walter Prati, among others, setting the stage for a remarkable meeting between the pair.

Featuring Armaroli on vibraphone and prepared vibraphone and Toop on electronics, “And I Entered Into Sleep” is “a sonic journey, a Proustian suggestion à la Recherche, into the unconscious between electronic and acoustic sounds”. Using a bell that sounds at the beginning of Proust’s “À la Recherché du Temps Perdu”, which reappears more than 3,000 pages later — signaling a transition of phases, as well an auditory trigger of memory — as a departure point, as an association to the percussive vibraphone pulses that thread the album’s two sides, the pair weave a striking interior world of immersive psychological depth. Feeling almost subaquatic at times, like captured glimpses of rumbling, shadowy ecosystems lost within murky ambiences, before washing ashore in a series of pointillistic, highly detailed alien landscapes of the mind, each artist’s markedly different sound-sources, and treatment of the subsequent material elements, dance in abstract grace, incorporating subtle nods to minimalism, free jazz, and musique concrète within its seamless total form of sparse texture and tone.

Easily one of the most striking and memorable releases by either artist to appear in recent years, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep” traverses uncharted realms at the borders of literary reference, sound art, ambience and abstraction through delicately musical sounds, revealing new depths at every turn. Issued as the tenth and final album in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

Returning with its final instalments, Die Schachtel's Decay Music series extends its explorations of inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract with Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s “Liminale” and Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, two astounding electroacoustic gestures of blurred space and time, plumbing complexity of meaning bound to sonority. Creatively groundbreaking and inspired, radically rethinking the terms of what ambient music can be perceived to be, they stand among the most striking efforts to appear within the series to date.

An aural bridge between two distinct generations of Italian experimental musicians, “Liminale” is the debut collaborative outing from the creative partnership of Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello. Active within the context for roughly two decades, Turra (b. 1975) is a reductionist/electroacoustic composer, noted from his tense deployment of concrete and acoustic sources — particularly small sounds and noises — whose work threads the balance between silence, tactile auditory perception, and aleatoric music. Martusciello (b. 1959), on the other hand, is a musician and composer working across the fields of acousmatic and electroacoustic composition, sound installation, multi-media and audiovisual art, and computer music improvisation, who is widely celebrated for both his solo efforts and his collaborations with Eugene Chadbourne, Mike Cooper, Alvin Curran, Chris Cutler, Rhodri Davies, Iancu Dumitrescu, Michel Godard, Tim Hodgkinson, Lawrence D. "Butch" Morris, Jérôme Noetinger, Tony Oxley, Evan Parker, Z'EV, and others.

A single, nearly 40 minute work, extending across the two sides of the LP, “Liminale” — as its title eludes — is an exploration of the liminal through sonic means: “places that exist on the threshold, transitional spaces suspended between a before and an after, between the real and the evanescent” conceiving the soundscape as “a liminal place, a space to be inhabited without the certainty of where it leads.” Unfurling like a labyrinth navigated in darkness, the piece’s first half is marked by sparseness and restraint, as slow-paced guitar tones and harmonics thread silences and resonant ambience within a sprawling sense of space, delicately populated by tiny sounds, fleeting punctuations drawn from undeterminable sources, vocal utterances, and the unexpected appearance of intoxicating piano tones.

As “Liminale” progresses into its second half, Turra and Martusciello enter a more densely populated notion of the in between. No less defined by the presence of space and mystery, discreet textures rustle and writhe within passages of pure concrete abstraction and a fragmented, stretched sense of musicality: long-tones, metallic pulses, minimal vibrations, processed vocalizations, guitar harmonics, and deconstructed piano melodies, buried in spectral, gauzy hazes drifting from beyond arm’s reach within an imagistic and immersive landscape of profoundly meditative scope, where each sonic element flirts the line between emergence and disappearance.

Intimate, fragile, and achingly beautiful, “Liminale”, Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s debut collaboration, is a masterstroke in sound-craft and composition, revealing the potency of meaning locked within transitional spaces and the undefined, and imbuing silence with monumental gravity and weight. Mastered for vinyl by Giuseppe Ielasi, and taking electroacoustic minimalism to an etherial extreme, “Liminale” is issued as the ninth entry in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

Wrong Filament embodies Robert Piotrowicz's creation of fictional traditional music - not studied but invented, a utopian and oniric construct that becomes tangible in sound. These imagined traditions act as communal forces of music-making, resisting dominant structures of power.

The album unfolds in six dense compositions built on rhythm, repetition and minimal melodic gestures that draw on archetypal patterns of Eastern European traditions. Entirely synthetic yet strikingly instrumental in character, they develop as autonomous sound events, expanding into multi-part forms that evoke the physicality of ensemble performance - as if played by an imagined community of musicians.

Rather than reconstruction, Piotrowicz invents forged dances - a pre-techno of sorts, where complex meters and dense textures point to a parallel history of collective sound beyond industrial uniformity. They imagine a utopian and fictional genealogy of collective sound: one where industrial modernity yields to more unstable, communal energies.

This is celebratory music with invocatory charge: calls to dance, echoes of ceremony, microtonal melodies shaped by emotional weight, and traces of Eastern ornamentation stretched through synthetic means. Wrong Filament sacralises performance through sound alone, spinning a world where spectres of collective experience vibrate against the limits of rupture and resistance.

These pieces confront the traces of violence inscribed in body and memory, yet also affirm freedom, emancipation and integration. They manifest celebration, identity and resistance while opening a path toward liberation and shared needs that exceed social, private and intimate categories.

Indonesian duo Kuntari make music that's so distinctive, they had to devise their own genre: primal-core. On Mutu Beton, multiinstrumentalist Tesla Manaf and percussionist Rio Abror dialog with both history and their tropical surroundings in Bandung, West Java's mountainous capital. Using the cornet and hulusi, a free reed instrument made from a bottle gourd and bamboo pipes, Manaf echoes the bellows of local elephants, orangutans and rhinos, grazing Abror's ancestral Indonesian rhythms with potent overdriven riffs and evocative microtonal chimes.

It's music that's profoundly atmospheric and simultaneously raw, recorded live to fully encapsulate the dynamic and deeply human interaction between the two seasoned players. There are elements of sludge metal, noise and post-hardcore, references to traditional folk music and jazz, and gestures towards sound art, 20th century minimalism and dark ambient, but what Kuntari do is completely idiosyncratic -- it's hardly surprising it needed a similarly unique categorization.

Manaf started Kuntari as a solo project, debuting in 2020 with Black Shirt Attracts More Feather and animating his nimble instrumental improvisations with bold electronic processes and booming synthetic drums. And by the time he recorded 2022's acclaimed Last Boy Picked, his approach had evolved significantly; prioritizing organic sounds, he played prepared cornet and piano, bringing in additional percussionists to help devise a ritualistic rhythm section. Abror was one of those performers, and ended up sticking around, playing on 2023's furious LARYNX/STRIDULA, the stylistic precursor for Mutu Beton. At this stage, the duo have racked up a litany of accolades and collaborated with a spectrum of like-minded artists, from noise deity Keiji Haino to fellow Indonesian free-thinker Rully Shabara, who's best known for his work with Senyawa and avant-garde supergroup Osmium. Mutu Beton plays like a lap of honor, showcasing their most kinetic and most feral recordings to date. Kuntari surpass their own high standards, folding history and geography in on itself and suggesting a trailblazing Indonesian cultural movement that's not restricted by highbrow Western conventions. It's not just automation and technology that drives progression, it's interaction and observation. And there's nothing more primal, or revolutionary, than that.

LTD. CLEAR BLUE VINYL

New York painter and musician exploratory industrialist Tor Lundvall initially envisioned his 14th album, Beautiful Illusions, as an entirely instrumental affair, "inspired by memories of sitting in a church or cathedral watching the shifting sunlight through stained glass." Although he ultimately chose to wreath the majority of the tracks with hushed, poetic vocals, his original muse still resonates. These are certainly songs of shadowplay and vaulted skies, the quiet grandeur of dusk deepening on the horizon. Lundvall characterizes the lyrical subject matter, too, in ways both specific and surreal, exploring "the doubts, the anxieties and even the bleak fantasies the mind spirals into during moments of isolation, separation and distance." Tricks of the eye, mind, and ear, magnified by silence and the looming long winter. Shivering pulses and muted bass lines tread the twilight while icicle synths and wiry guitar map the melody until the voice enters, narrating oblique moods of essence and absence, tenderness and truth. Glimpses of dark humor flicker in the wordplay but the greater sonic landscape is one of falling leaves and failing light, small gestures rendered as revelation, cloaked in reverb and spatial fog. Lundvall's mastery of nuance and negative space continues to heighten, whispered brushstrokes of the invisible and the unsaid, what lies beneath and what lies beyond: "Behind the shields and false fronts is usually a sadness. The heartbreaking reflections of what might have been."

Last summer, after living across the country from each other for several years, the four members of Anamanaguchi decided to try something new. Their label Polyvinyl had rescued the famed American Football house from potential destruction, so the band took the opportunity to move in and write together. Over the course of a month, Anamanaguchi – pioneers of hyper-melodic 8-bit rock, whose extraordinary ascent has led them to topping charts with virtual pop star Hatsune Miku and scoring Scott Pilgrim vs. the World: The Game and Netflix’s Scott Pilgrim Takes Off – flipped their typically meticulous digital process on its head. Anyway, the result, is the most personal record of their career. And it's a rock record for the ages.

Recorded straight to tape by Grammy-winning rock producer Dave Fridmann (The Flaming Lips, MGMT, Sleater-Kinney), Anyway united the members around live instruments and lyrics sung by everybody in the band. As Anamanaguchi has always been an instrumental band, the decision to sing suddenly confronted them with the question of what the band’s voice would ultimately be. They explore this newfound power in every song, making it their most emotionally resonant work yet.

Anyway captures a band creatively and personally energized by the experience of four best friends reviving their connection in a disconnected world. On “Rage (Kitchen Sink),” the band confront loneliness and boredom, two epidemics of the digital age that seem to be humanity’s only common bond. The power-pop ballad “Darcie” finds inspiration in small gestures from a local unsung hero, who brightens their lives and allows unforeseen amounts of fun to happen. Taut and dynamic, “Buckwild” is a rock sing-along that serves as the album’s genesis story: a band making an effort to do something new, while accepting the risks that may bring.

USA, Anamanaguchi’s critically-acclaimed second album and debut for Polyvinyl, anticipated a crucial cultural shift in moving from escapist, nostalgic fantasy to a more introspective exploration of digital identity. Described by Pitchfork as the band’s “most emotionally grounded record,” USA laid the foundation for the openness and honesty that defines Anyway. Where USA made sense of life online, their third album Anywayventures into the world outside the front door.

Greta Kline's musical output as Frankie Cosmos exemplifies the generation of musicians born out of online self-releasing. Kline initially built a reputation with her prolific catalogue of bedroom recordings and as a performer and advocate of New York's All Ages DIY scene. The beauty in Kline's writing does not lie within immense statements and large gestures, but instead can be found in her ability to examine situations and relationships with heartbreaking sincerity. In 2014 Kline released her first studio album, Zentropy. Within months of its release, Zentropy became one of the most critically acclaimed independent albums of the year and was named New York Magazine's #1 Pop album of 2014. In 2015 Kline signed to Bayonet Records, immediately releasing an EP where she experimented with writing in an electronic setting. The EP Fit Me In was well received and garnered a Best New Track from Pitchfork. Kline then began recording her next album appropriately titled, Next Thing. Like Zentropy, Kline approached Next Thing by fleshing out several old home recordings, and by writing half of the album from scratch. Next Thing explores new emotional and instrumental territory for Kline.

Since its founding back in 2014, Blume has carved a unique place in cultural landscape, issuing free-standing works, spanning the historical and contemporary, that represent singular gestures of creativity within the field of experimental sound. Joining their broad efforts in building networks of context and understanding that already includes the works by Werner Durand, Sarah Hennies, Bruce Nauman, John Butcher, Jocy de Oliveira, Mary Jane Leach, Valentina Magaletti, Alvin Curran, Julius Eastman, Alvin Lucier, and following the first ever vinyl release to attend to James Tenney's legendary Postal Pieces, the label now presents the first LP published by the visionary Swiss composer Jürg Frey. Drawing from the transformative power of breath and resonance, this release represents one of the most profound explorations of musical metamorphosis to emerge from the contemporary experimental landscape.

The completed work represents a "conjunction of these two artists" that has "activated a transformative form of experimentalism." These renderings "dance with an airy lightness, humour, and play, imbuing them with a beauty and emotiveness that can be rare within experimental music." They exist as "breaths, carrying the curiosities of life, belonging to no time and all time, to no one and everyone: a human music to be inhaled and pondered, for which the outcome remains unknown." In this liminal space between composition and interpretation, between breath and resonance, Zurria and Frey have created something that transcends the boundaries of experimental music itself, offering what might be called a metaphysical cartography of sound in its most essential form. As Bradford Bailey observes in his penetrating liner notes, "music is rarely a fixed entity," existing instead in a state of perpetual flux, "taking on the influences of its interpreters and performers." This fundamental truth finds its most eloquent expression in the transformative collaboration between Italian flutist Manuel Zurria and Frey, longtime member of the Wandelweiser Group. Where conventional recordings might preserve a definitive version, this release activates what Bailey calls "states of unknowing and continued experimentation," allowing Frey's compositions to evolve into entirely new dimensional territories. The original string quartet and piano works dissolve into breath-carried architectures of sound, where "the original remains in a constant dialogue with its transformation." This is not mere arrangement but ontological metamorphosis - an alchemical process through which crystalline harmonies are reborn as atmospheric phenomena.

The metaphysical dimensions of this transformation become clear through detailed analysis of the musical result. Where Frey's original compositions operate through what he calls "basic confidence in the clear and restricted material," Zurria's interpretation activates entirely new perceptual territories. Space holds almost atomic sense of weight against the airy punctuations of timbres, textures, and tones, creating "suspensions of time within which questions and identities posed by instrumentation fade." The Extended Circular Music pieces - each comprising "a small number of bars to be repeated an undetermined number of times" - become organizations of sound that defy being definitive or fixed. Originally scored for different combinations of violin, viola, cello, and piano, these works now exist as pure phenomena of breath and resonance, where "hanging, breath-length utterances dance and intertwine amongst complex harmonic clusters and conjunctions."

The philosophical implications of this transformation illuminate a lineage of composers who have moved "away from abstraction and responding to the need to create" something beyond mere technique. Drawing parallels to Morton Feldman's understanding of non-functional harmony, Zurria's approach represents "a transformative form of experimentalism" that activates what Frey calls the "thaumaturgic power" of music - its capacity to heal and transform consciousness itself. The result is "a radical reimagining of ambience: sprawling sonorities and resonances adrift in space, carrying the liberated traces of the work's former incarnations and their truths." In Zurria's interpretation, Frey's String Quartet n.3 becomes something approaching "an organ played in slow motion, its seals leaking," while the Extended Circular Music pieces transform into "glacial chords from a diverse palette of voicings, harmonies, timbres, and tones."

Performed by Manuel Zurria. Recorded and mixed by Zurria at BigCardo, Catania between 2022-2024, with mastering by Bruno Germano at Vacuumstudio, Bologna, this Blume release represents a profound exploration of musical transformation.

For her second full-length as Plume Girl, Sowmya Somanath crafts a space where boundaries of language, feeling, and sound start to dissolve. ‘Unnameable Glory’ ruminates on the limits of expression, and the luminous freedom that emerges when we let go of the need to name. Elaborating on the exploratory songs of her debut, Plume Girl continues to bring together Hindustani classical improvisation, ambient soundscapes, and experimental pop.

Somanath’s voice—from gentle murmur to radiant call—guides the listener through dreamlike arrangements: sunrise guitar arpeggios, humming choirs, heartbeat kickdrums, and synths tremble. Elsewhere field sounds and old family recordings are collaged, a woman’s giggle transposed into a piano melody, a sloshing body of water mirrored by synth bleeps. Plume Girl conjures moments of revelation, drawing from the natural beauty and intuition, that unnameable glory.

Is there a divinity or a wholeness that exists beyond language, belief, or tradition? Unnameable Glory both celebrates and gently challenges the notion: Can we honour the creative richness of culture while also seeing through the divisions it creates? Can we meet the world—and each other—without assumption, without fear, with eyes made new? In these songs, the sacred is found not in grand gestures, but in the anonymous freedom of simply being: the iridescence of oil and water on a street, the smile of a stranger, the hush that settles by a creek.

At the heart of the album is a sense of curiosity and surrender—a willingness to listen without judgment, to let the moment be unnameable, to allow wonder to arise and dissolve. And yet, as Somanath notes, there’s an impulse to capture that’s tough to ignore; a need to replicate and remember. Unnameable Glory dwells in this tension: between holding and letting go, between the urge to define and the beauty of what cannot be contained. There is a quiet, revolutionary joy in simply living and sensing together. Music becomes a meeting place for the whole, the holy, and the unnamable.

Listening to CD3, I'm reminded of how the Vincent Over The Sink record '22 Coloured Bull Terriers' made me feel all those years ago. There's a free ranging quality to it.

It feels calmly capable of doing whatever it wants. It feels mysterious and self-generating, almost aloof to the humans who made it. I adored that record; it cascaded into so many epiphanies.

I don't want to implicate Cooper and David's music in any fleeting desire towards currency, but listening to this CD3 record over the last few weeks has felt weirdly, thematically correct. There's an echo-ey kind of referentiality to it. Not to particular styles of music, but to the recently elapsed histories those styles of music evoke. It's something that Th Blisks kind of gestures towards, but which this project seems to own entirely.

It's a kind of melted reconfiguration of popular (occasionally popular-on-the-fringes) styles. These familiar sounds are reconfigured and muddied. Hindsight frames the sources in an almost primordial light, to the extent that they feel like folk art.

Glyphted and Franzbranntwein sound like pop songs stripped to their bones and distorted, as if the styles they vaguely recall are as old as time. It's a stunningly weird effect. Songs like The Duchess and Farmhand exacerbate this impression. The record comes to feel yearningly ahistorical. But in a way that feels pertinent?

It might just be where my head is at, but the implacable nature of the record feels important to me, somehow. It's something far, far north of post-modern but... ancient too. - Shaun Prescott

The original line up of all women featured Sally Sweet of Minneapolis garage bands THE CAVEGURLS and THE BLUE UP. After some time the original line up morphed into a mixed band of men and women and the group released a 45 on Ramo Records. This caught the attention of Boston record label RUM BAR RECORDS, who would release the BEEBE GALLINI album 'Pandemos', a collection of material made during the worldwide pandemic. A well-received collection ranging from garage nuggets to 60's BEE GEES' hit and original material.

For their next project producer and drummer for the group Travis Ramin brought the group into the legendary Kay Bank Studio in Minneapolis. A studio rich in musical history where everything from DAVE DUDLEY's Six Days on the Road and THE FENDERMEN's Muleskinner Blues to THE TRASHMEN's Legendary Surfin Bird and all of Soma Records' Big Hits Of Mid America were recorded. The early GUESS WHO recorded there and decided on their name in the building even ... the list goes on and on!

Travis' idea for a record was to re- record some Minnesota garage classics that were originally recorded there in the same room and invite some of their garage rockin' friends to join them. Run Run Run by THE GESTURES and Why by THE ACCENTS would feature on lead guitar Keith Patterson (formerly of THE FUNSEEKERS, THE SPECTORS, and THE CONQUERORS). I Believe from THE HIGH SPIRITS would feature Melanie Vammen of THE PANDORAS organ solo and Russell Quan famously of THE MUMMIES, FLAKES and DUKES OF HAMBURG would take lead vocal on THE KAN- DELS raucous Cry Girl. The session was so successful that it expanded into the full- length album "Begged, Borrowed and Stealed" and batch of material expanding beyond the Minnesota borders, with tunes from DAVE DEE, DOZY, BEAKY, MICK & TICH, OTIS REDDING, BEEBE themselves and more! Recording in the sacred space made for a special rock and roll party album which also features the artwork of legend Cliff Mott! So, get ready for an all-star cast and a little dose of Minnesota Garage Rock and Soul!

The compositions of Miłosz Kędra (b. 2001) explore synthetic sound, electroacoustic music, and self-built acoustic instruments, seeking diverse timbres, tunings, and textures. His main field of work is the pipe organ. Through minimalist motifs, he has transported the instrument’s sound beyond the church space by synthetically processing its tones. He is currently pursuing a Master’s degree in New Media Music at the Academy of Music in Poznań and recently completed a Bachelor’s degree in Electroacoustic Composition, during which he built his own pipe organ from scavenged pipes.

~ Liner notes ~

Miłosz Kędra - "their internal diapasons"

The pipes that Miłosz Kędra used to craft his own organ emulator have lived many lives. They come from churches scattered across Greater Poland—some trimmed for a more presentable façade, others left to gather dust in parish houses until, stripped of purpose, they were cast away. Their first voices have faded, their inner resonance unsettled, yet with patience, one can teach them to sound again—to sing in their altered state, to be gently coaxed out of silence.

Audiomancy—the conjuring of lost sounds—is the word that lingers when I try to grasp the lore crystallizing with Kędra’s second album.

The resolve with which the musician and composer has inhabited his self-built instrument recalls Witold Szalonek and his search for “unexploited properties of wind instruments in classical music.” Szalonek sought to map these hidden voices into a system of multiphonics, revealing over 160 on the oboe alone by 1968. Some sound eerily alike, yet emerge through distinct gestures—“a particular breath, a precise choreography of levers and apertures, the seamless fusion of the two.”

The splitting of a single note into its spectral fragments—allowing a melodic instrument to speak in two, three, even four voices at once—enabled Szalonek to bend the rigid structures of Western music. "their internal diapasons" follows a similar path: an aesthetic bypass through which Kędra taps into the sacred gravity of the church organ, only to reveal it as a domesticated echo of something far older—the primal theater of transformation. To listen closely to an instrument is to learn its flaws, to turn its imperfections into a new way of speaking.

Each of the nine compositions on "their Internal diapasons" is an invitation—to approach the material world with the intent of letting it speak beyond expectation. An instrument that is at once a sculpture, a performance, and a manifesto of voicing the discarded suggests that its creator—following the path of Didier Eribon (Returning to Reims)—might take as his motto, a principle of asceticism, Sartre’s words: “What matters is not what is made of us, but what we ourselves make of what is made of us.”

Filip Szałasek

Taba voices a subtle yet surprising shift for the Japanese musician and producer Satomimagae. Observing and absorbing the fleeting scenes and sounds of life flowing outside of her home studio, Taba unfolds as a series of vignettes that document the personal and the universal. Satomi sings beyond herself in an orbit of souls and systems known and unknown, seen and unseen, in the present and in the strange flux of memory, leaving linear songwriting to rest for circuitous stories expanded and expansive in tone and texture. Following the logic of taba, a Japanese term for a bunch, bundle or grouping together of different things, the album is assembled as a loose collection of short stories. Shapeshifting into something like a poet-narrator, Satomi casts her writer's eye to the often perplexing shapes that form from quotidian events and exchanges defining our increasingly alienated age. Where Satomi's last full-length, 2021's Hanazono, bloomed from the lush soil of a private inner sphere, the bird's eye of Taba searches to place the artist_somewhere, somehow_within a wider, wilder world. Collaborations with other artists and musicians close to Satomi's universe further elevate the album's sweeping sonics. Synthesizer lines from Norio, who also helps define the album's visual identity through photo and video, enliven the tender ballad "Kodama." The bell-like Rhodes piano ringing in and around Satomi's guitar on "Dottsu" is played by Akhira Sano, who created the cover art for her 2021 Colloid EP. Yuya Shito's clarinet was the missing puzzle piece that completed "Spells," and it was also Yuya who mixed Taba with an ear for its organic textures and elegantly frayed edges, giving utterance to a distinctly different energy than Satomi's earlier expressions. The tonal and rhythmic play that lay the foundation of these songs also animates a colorful palette of melodic gestures, noisy resonances and pointed moments captured by Satomi's close-at-hand recorder. While Taba is still carried by the innate intimacy that has defined Satomi's music to date, these songs channel her newly spacious and inquisitive songwriting approach, unlocking unusual layers in the process. Some are subsumed in the speculative poetics of sound design, while others peer through the window of bedroom pop. Gathering imagistic reflections, tracing vast ideations and quietly lingering in humble moments, Taba connects vivid lines between the individual and the collective, the constructed and the cosmic, the articulated and the felt. Satomi's sonic tales gain an eloquent coherence by the simple fact of existing in conversation, humming a harmony of parts that buzzes with the tangled circuitry of a life in motion. Taba is the fifth album from Japanese musician, songwriter and dream traveler Satomimagae, following her 2021 album Hanazono and the 2023 reissue of her debut album Awa, both for RVNG Intl. On Taba, Satomimagae leaves linear songwriting to rest for circuitous stories expanded and expansive in tone and texture, unfolding as a series of vignettes that document both the personal and the universal. Some of the songs on Taba feature intimate moments captured on Satomi's hand recorder, poetic moments of sound design animated by tonal and rhythmic bedroom pop foundations. As with Hanazono, Taba's album artwork features a wooden block print by Satomi's sister, the artist Natsumi Magae.

Following nearly 20 years of working together as a trio, and numerous cross-collaborations in different configuration between them, Ideologic Organ presents Placelessness, the debut full-length by Chris Abrahams, Oren Ambarchi, and Robbie Avenaim, comprising two long-form works at juncture of ambient music, minimalism, rigorous experimentalism and improvisation, and machine music. Having carved distinct pathways across a diverse number of musical idioms for decades, Chris Abrahams, Oren Ambarchi, and Robbie Avenaim are each, respectively, among the most noteworthy and groundbreaking figures to have emerged from Australia's thriving experimental music scene. Ambarchi and Avenaim first encountered Abrahams when seeing the Necks - the project that has served as the primary vehicle for his singular approach to the piano since its founding in 1987 - together during the late 1980s, not long after having met in Sydney's underground music community. The pair's collaborations date back more than 35 years, criss-crossing Ambarchi's pioneering solo and ensemble work for guitar and Avenaim's visionary efforts for SARPS (Semi Automated Robotic Percussion System), robotic and kinetic extensions to his drum kit. In 2004, fate brought the three together in a trio performance at the What Is Music? Festival, the annual touring showcase of experimental music founded and run by Ambarchi and Avenaim between 1994-2012. For the nearly two decades since, Abrahams, Ambarchi, and Avenaim have intermittently reformed in exclusively live contexts, in Australia and abroad, cultivating and refining the fertile ground first tilled in that early meeting. Placelessness is the first album to present this remarkable trio's efforts in recorded form. Placelessness is the joining of three highly individualised streams, working in perfect harmony; the point at which friendship, mutual respect, and decades of creative exploration produce a singular spectrum of sound. Featuring Abrahams on piano, Ambarchi on guitar, and Avenaim on drums, the album's two sides draw on each artist's enduring dedication to long-form composition. Its two pieces, Placelessness I and Placelessness II, initially began as a single, 40 minute work, before being divided and reworked into distinct, complimentary gestures for the corresponding sides of the LP. Beginning with restrained clusters of reverberant piano tones, Placelessness I progresses at an almost glacial pace, with Abrahams' interventions increasing met by sparse responses, darting within vast ambiences, on guitar and percussion by Ambarchi and Avenaim. Remarkably conversational within its convergences of tonal, rhythmic, and textural abstraction, over the work's duration a progressive sense of tension unfurls and contracts, refusing release, as each of the ensemble's members contribute to an increasingly tangled sense of density at its resolve.While an entirely autonomous work, Placelessness II rapidly realises a distillation of the energy hinted at across the length of its predecessor. Following a luring passage of harmonious calm, Abrahams' launches into shimmering lines of repeating arpeggios, complimented at each escalation of tempo by Avenaim's machine gun fire percussion work and Ambarchi's masterful delivery of tonality and texture, as the trio collectively generate dense sheets of pointillistic ambience within which individual identity is almost lost, before slowly unspooling into unexpected abstractions and dissonances that deftly intervene with the work's inner logic and calm. What could easily be termed a maximalist take on Minimalism, Placelessness is a masterstroke of contemporary, real time composition, that blurs the boundaries between ambient music, experimentalism, free improvisation, and machine music. Drawing on Chris Abrahams, Oren Ambarchi, and Robbie Avenaim's decades of respective solo and collaborative practice, and the culmination of nearly twenty years of working together as a trio, it's two durational pieces - Placelessness I and Placelessness II - take form with a startling sense of effortlessness and grace, neither shying away from explicit beauty or rigorously tension within their forms

Signs & Gestures is a various artists limited vinyl pressing which will be available digitally later this year. The vinyl version was mastered by Todd Mariana at Chicago's newest cutting studio, Deep Grooves Mastering.

The compilation features four tracks. Longtime friends Awoke (aka John Griffin) and Jack Buser write the two cuts on the A-side. These guys have known each other for many years and the complimentary nature of their tracks echo their years long relationship. Both use analog gear in their productions. In fact, that is an understatement as both are engineers by day and admitted audio gear junkies by night. Awoke's Untitled #2843 is a quirky drama builder throwing the In My House vocal over squelches and acid lines. Buser's Midi Boson is a classic exercise in simplicity. Drums from an MPC and a lead from Elektron's Monomachine are all it takes for this groove to rattle the dance floor.

Side B is also the work of two close friends. Nathan Drew Larsen remixes Little Turtles by Souls Found. Mazi edits Nathan's remix (released earlier on Fresh Meat's When Bad People Cook Good Food Volume 3) to 6 minutes, removing the atmospheric outro and reducing some of the extended sections. What remains is an energetic workout that is uncommonly melodic and emotional. As Audio Soul Project, Mazi's remix 3 of Sentimental Love combines sections from the first two of his remixes of this song released on Vizual Records back in 2011. This new version will hopefully express the care and love that went into preserving the message of Joshua Iz and Chez Damier's original.

Carrying on their longstanding dedication to the seminal output of Merzbow, Urashima returns with what is unquestionably their most ambitious release to date: “Collection 001-010”, a deluxe, 10 LP vinyl box set limited to 299 copies, gathering together the entirety of the project’s first ten releases, originally released in 1981. Encountering the band in its early incarnation of the duo of Masami Akita and Kiyoshi Mizutani, raw, exposed and bristling with energy, foreshadowing numerous trajectories they would follow over the coming years, these astounding full lengths - the majority of which have never been released on vinyl - come housed in a beautifully produced, deluxe wooden box, with each LP in its own individual sleeve reproducing the original artwork, and a LP-sized 32-page book containing reproductions of artworls and collages by Masami Akita, an interview conducted by Jim O'Rourke, and liner notes penned by Lasse Marhaug, Thurston Moore, and Akita himself, amounting to what is unquestionably one of the most historically significant releases we’re likely to encounter in 2025.

Deluxe Edition of 299 copies, remastered from the original analog tapes by Masami Akita, each LP comes in its individual sleeve reproducing the original artwork, also includes a LP-sized 32-page book. ** Since its founding during the late 2000s, the Italian imprint, Urashima, has become a definitive voice in the landscape of noise. Bringing forth beautiful limited edition releases, they’ve sculpted a singular vision of one of the most vibrant and revolutionary bodies of experimental sound to have graced the globe. Among the many projects that they have supported over the decades, there has been an undeniable dedication to the output of the seminal Japanese noise outfit, Merzbow, making a significant amount of the project’s out of print back catalog available across a range of formats. Now they return with what is arguably their most stunning and ambitious release dedicated to the project to date: “Collection 001-010”, gathering the entirety of Merzbow’s first ten releases, largely privately released by the band on cassette across 1981, in a deluxe, 10 LP vinyl box set. Representing what is effectively ground zero in Japanese noise and collectively amounting to some of the most sought after releases ever produced within that movement, Urashima’s truly beautiful collection comes fully remastered by Masami Akita himself from the original tapes, presenting all but a small number in their first ever vinyl pressings, with each LP housed in its own individual sleeve reproducing the original artwork, alongside a LP-sized 32-page book containing reproductions of artworks and collages by Masami Akita, an interview conducted by Jim O'Rourke, and liner notes penned by Lasse Marhaug, Thurston Moore and Akita himself. Towering with energy and groundbreaking creative vision, within the realms of noise and experimental music, releases don’t get more monumental or historically important than this!

Merzbow came roaring onto the Tokyo scene in 1979, and remains, to this day, one of the most prolific and aggressively forward-thinking projects in experimental music. Eventually becoming the solo vehicle for the efforts of Masami Akita, in its earliest incarnation the project was the duo of Akita and Kiyoshi Mizutani, taking their name from German artist Kurt Schwitters' pre-war architectural assemblage, The Cathedral of Erotic Misery or Merzbau, and quickly set out to challenge entrenched notions of what music could be. Embracing technology and the machine, even in its earliest iterations, Merzbow pushed toward new territories of the extreme, arriving at a space of pure, unadulterated sonic onslaught that has continued, for over 40 years, to set the pace for the entire genre of noise, and has remained one of the movement’s most important, definitive voices, continuously laying the groundwork for countless artists who have followed in its wake.

When dealing with historical gestures, there’s an invertible aura surrounding original line-ups and early statements, and rightfully so. It is often within a band’s debut that we catch the purest glimpse of the raw energy and creative ferment that made them what they are. This is certainly the case when regarding the coveted early releases of Merzbow, capturing the emergence of the project in its form as the duo of Masami Akita and Kiyoshi Mizutani as they helped set the blue print from the then emerging movement of Japanese noise. Over the course of its nearly five decades of activity, Merzbow has always been noted for how prolific and ambitious the project is. This was no less the case in the very beginning. While they were active for roughly two years prior, in 1981 alone they issued ten self-released cassettes numerically titled “Collection 001-010”, albums which have both individually and collectively become holy grails in the realms of noise, with only two - “Collection 007” and “Collection 009” - ever receiving vinyl reissues prior to now.

As Lasse Marhaug deftly articulates in the newly commissioned liner notes for “Collection 001-010”, despite having been recorded in different location across a span of time, the sum total of Merzbow’s first ten releases might be best regarded as a single release to be listened to in the same, durational sitting, with the material standing well apart from what most came to expect from Merzbow, while foreshadowing numerous trajectories the project would take over the coming years. Not only do these recordings feature a vast array of instrumentation - tapes, acoustic and electric guitar, violin, drums, voice, recorder, organ, found sounds, clarinet, homemade and prepared instruments, a vast arsenal of effects and electronics, and piano, to only begin to scratch the surface - the majority of which would disappear from the project’s active sources of sound generation over the subsequent years, but there is a slow pacing and raw sense of openness and exposure that reveals strong connections to the avant-garde improvisations of groups like AMM, Musica Elettronica Viva, and Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza, the psychedelia of groups like Taj Mahal Travellers and Flower Traveling band (both of whom Akita mentions having seen in youth within his interview with Jim O’Rourke), and rock in general - albeit in fully abstracted forms - unspooling as brittle, pointillistic, textural, raw and abrasive forms, that occasionally flirts with unexpected tonal sensibilities. As Marhaug describes it in his excellent liner notes: «Sonically, “Collection” sounds more sparse and stripped. It’s dry sounding, up-front, no reverb, and there’s less heavy low-end grime and thin on the signature frequency sweeps. Viewed in a 1981 context, musically, it’s more akin to what the LAFMS (Los Angeles Free Music Society) pool of artists were doing at that time than what was happening in industrial music... There’s a strong playfulness throughout, like the sound objects are being explored for the first time, without neither restraint nor hurry. Events are allowed to be fully examined before the music moves on, or simply cuts off. To a large degree, the music on “Collection” feels acoustic in nature, although a Electro-Harmonix ring-modulator features prominently throughout.»

Easily described as a rarely encountered revelation into the original and earlier documented studio sound of Merzbow, “Collection 001-010” collectively amounts to an engrossing sonic journey in its own right, while also allowing for important, often overlooked connections drawn from numerous other creative wellsprings, notably free jazz, underground rock, the output of European and Japanese avant-garde music, as well as Dada, Fluxus, and Mail Art, much of which, beyond the illumination made possible by the sounds, Jim O’Rourke’s fantastic interview with Akita, published in the booklet, further explores, offering great insights into the origins of Merzbow and the thinking behind the project, as well as aspects of the earliest days of Japanese noise.

Lion, The Lion is Definition's summary of a phase of life. It roars with an unmistakable sense of strength, woven into every resonating beat and drifting melody.
Through shimmering synth textures, driving basslines, and subtle vocal traces, it carries you across a spectrum of emotional states—from feverish, pulsing energy to meditative introspection. Each track feels like a small yet significant battle won, a testament to resilience in the face of challenges. Percussion elements build tension, then dissolve into moments of calm, highlighting the dynamic interplay of fragility and power. Beneath its surface lies a constant wave of determination, anchoring the album’s softer elements in a foundation of raw strength.
Twisting tempos and sudden shifts in atmosphere propel you forward, ensuring that no section remains complacent or still. There is both grit and grace here, fused together in a complete experience that summons courage from the very first note. As the journey unfolds, a quiet resolve emerges, a promise of hope amid challenging times. Ultimately, the record stands as a moving ode to perseverance, asserting that true might resides not in grand gestures, but in the steady, unwavering pulse that keeps us going.

The album’s title, New World, Lonely Ride, gestures toward its meditative orientation. The duo offers a series of reflections on the zeitgeist of our present moment, the spirit of our age: the isolation and loneliness that continues to echo in the wake of the pandemic; the fractures that mar our political discourse; the uncertainty that has stamped itself on the future of democracy. The vast geography of America and the absence of a common ground, a shared political vision, have contributed to the affective landscape of contemporary American life—of what it feels like to live in the United States today.

Using instrumental voices and textures drawn from the traditional American forms of folk, country, bluegrass and blues, and informed with a modern sense of ambience and space, the sound is both contemporary and deeply rooted. With New World, Lonely Ride, Grigoni and Pan American join countless American artists who have drawn upon this landscape—physical and affective— giving it a voice and shape, listening to its character. And in starting there, with listening, offer a response for the future.

Entering its 26th year of activity, the morphing, Los Angeles based experimental outfit, Sissy Spacek, joins Shelter Press with Entrance, among the project's most captivating outings to date. Encountering the duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma joined in various configurations by an incredible cast of collaborators - Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, Ralf Wehowsky, and C Spencer Yeh - collectively transformed into a series a deeply intimate and delicate gestures of musique concrète, Entrance radically repositions the possibilities presented by group improvisation outside of time and place. Founded at the end of the last millennium, the Los Angeles based project, Sissy Spacek, initially emerged from the knotted, fiery context 1990s American noise and grindcore, producing sheets of visceral sonority that quickly set the scene on its head. Going through numerous evolutions, before eventually settling as a duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma - joined by a rotating and often recurring cast collaborators - over the last 25 years the band has continuously entered states of evolution that have defied the expectations of its own context, seeding the sonic extremes noise with subtle and sophisticated approaches to free improvisation and musique concrète. Fiercely positioning its efforts within the outer reaches of contemporary experimental music, while resisting the constraints of a singular sound or proximity, Wiese regards Sissy Spacek as being primarily centred around the practice of musique concrète and the pursuit of extremes. From its earliest releases - collage treatments of material gathered from the band's full throttle practice sessions - the project's conceptual framework has continuously evolved within a deeply engaged process of experimentation, not only reworking tactical approaches, but also definitions and perception regarding the location and action of their work. In recent years, this has led to an increasingly varied and diverse output. Percolating within, is a thread marked by a striking sense of delicacy and intimacy, driving forward while doubling as an unexpected challenge, in real time, to perceptions connected to the band's past. Entrance is the most recent of these. Embarking upon the four compositions that comprise the finalized four sides of Entrance, Wiese and Mumma enlisted longstanding collaborators, Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, and C Spencer Yeh, as well as new initiate, Ralf Wehowsky (of the seminal German electronic noise collective P16.D4), requesting a contribution of sounds from each, determined by a general set guidelines that dictated certain qualities the given sonorities, while allowing for the expression of each player's distinct creative voice. The sets of resulting recordings were then chopped, harvested, manipulated, and reassembled as the four tape compositions that make up the album - Web Of Unfolding Appearance, Figure Of Reflected Light, Trancher And The Inheritors, True Dimension (From The Opaque - Spike) - each blurring the lines of authorship and clear creative proximity in remarkable ways. Where historical gestures of musique concrète tend to draw upon non-instrumental sound sources - regarding its sonorous material as raw elements, unburdened by inherent meaning or association, to be transformed and imbued with musicality - Sissy Spacek turns this position on its head. Entrance comprises works of musique concrète that not only draw upon instrumental sound sources, with all their possible meanings or associations, but also individual characters and personalities of their players, crediting each resulting piece to its respective configuration of contributors. As such, Entrance is an effort of sound collage defined by a rare sense of intimacy and humanity: four pieces that often take on the resemblance of group improvisation, but have, in fact, been assembled outside of time and place. Bent under the ever-present hand of Wiese's tape treatments and manipulation, each of the album's four compositions unfurl startling states of sonic abstraction and percolating texture, marked by a striking sense of hard-shifting structure, that culminate as tense, driven manifestations of ambient music: scrapes, squeals, rattles feedback, rolling drums, bouncing tones, whispers, bent electronics, electric artefacts, and seemingly everything else under the sun, configured into immersive, sublime mediations in sound from the most improbable events.

eaturing pieces for tenor saxophone and digital keyboard, and accented by traces of additional instruments, these songs sound a fated exchange mutually effortless and expansive. On »Greyhound Days« Patrick Shiroishi and Piotr Kurek makinespace for each other’s distinct voices as much as their eloquently mirrored gestures, sharing their attraction to intuitive expressions and the simple tenderness of first takes.

The first-ever reissue of Gianni Marchetti's 1978 LP "Solstitium", released as part of RCA's venerable "Original Cast" series in a handful of promo copies only, sits among the most rare and enigmatic artifacts of Italian library music, it is heralded by collectors as one of the greatest free-standing gestures in the entire genre.

RIYL: Piero Umiliani, Egisto Macchi, Stefano Torossi

Gianni Marchetti's Solstitium, originally released in 1978 as part of RCA's prestigious Original Cast series, stands as one of the most elusive and iconic records within the realm of Italian library music. Its first-ever reissue brings this long-sought gem back into circulation, offering an opportunity for modern listeners to experience its raw, innovative energy and immersive soundscapes. Originally released in only a handful of promo copies, Solstitium quickly became a holy grail for collectors, its rarity only adding to its mystique and allure.
The album embodies a free-spirited, avant-garde approach to composition, blending elements of jazz, progressive rock, and experimental electronic music. Marchetti’s use of unconventional instrumentation and studio techniques marks Solstitium as an audacious departure from the more conventional library music of the era.
‘Solstitium’ remains a fascinating listening experience, revealing new layers with every listen, and it is not surprising that it has earned its place as one of Marchetti's most revered works, continuing to fascinate old fans and new listeners alike.

Free jazz poetry by a spry, 85 year old Joe McPhee, adapting his renowned improvised practice to words - juxtaposed with Mats Gustafson’s sparing brass and electric gestures. It’s an utterly timeless and transfixing salvo, another shiny notch for Smalltown Supersound’s Le Jazz Non Series.

As a common ligature to the OG free jazz scene of ‘60s NYC, with formative binds to its European offshoots and the experimental avant garde, Joe McPhee is a true force of nature who has represented jazz at its freest over a remarkable lifetime. In duo with Swedish free jazz and noise standard bearer Mats Gustafson, he upends expectations with an astonishingly vivid and upfront example of his enduring contribution to freely improvised music. In 11 parts he variously reflects on everything from the neon sleaze and scuzz of NYC to contemporary US politicians and laugh out loud imitations of his previous sparring partners such as Peter Brötzmann, with a head-slapping immediacy that leaves you reeling, spellbound.

McPhee’s flow of rare, organic cadence, ranging from urgent to contemplative and dreamlike, is blessed with a unique turn-of-phrase that surely mirrors his decades of instrumental work. Gustafsson, meanwhile, dextrously takes up the mantle with a multi-instrumental spectrum of sounds, leaving McPhee unbound and able to float and sting on the mic. There’s obvious wisdom in his perceptively penetrative observations, as derived from a rich cultural life well spent, but also a playful naivety and levity in his ability to veer from almost melodic speech to explosive aggression and a knowing, bathetic wit. It’s perhaps hard to believe that McPhee only started incorporating and performing spoken word in his work in the past ten years, a half century since his declaration of “What Time Is It‽” announced his arrival on a legendary debut ‘Nation Time’ (1971), ushering in one of free jazz’s most singular characters in the process.

Oscillating between discordant reflections on life as a touring musician, set to Gustafsson’s skronk and culminating in a snort-worthy imitation of Peter Brötzmann’s gruff German accent, on ‘Short Pieces’ or the glowering growl and noise exhortations of ‘Guitar’, he evokes a more sweetly consonant calm in ‘When I Grow Up’ and eerie threat of ‘The Dreams Book’, and viscerality of ‘Disco Death’, where Gustafson’s tonal versatility comes into hugely mutable play, whilst McPhee’s extraordinary, unaffected voice is a constant. It’s perhaps McPhee’s balance of cool measuredness and wellspring of barbed energies that allows us, at least, to get the most out of this one; not stifling with mannered or manicured enunciation that can trigger certain icks; keeping close to the nature of spoken word in a way that avoids cliche and becomes inherently critical of it within his purposeful, non-hesitant clarity and unflinching approach.

Dischi Fantom’s Sussurra Luce series, blurring the boundaries between text, music and voice, returns with their fifth instalment, an expanded version of Hanne Lippard’s “Talk Shop”. Sculpting a fascinating bridge between radically experimental sound practice, conceptual art, and sound poetry, across its two sides the Berlin based multidisciplinary artist taps an almost dada sensibility, delivering a suite of poems and texts where singular words and sentences are looped and repeated creating a sensory experience of the efficiency and stress found in our private as well as public life.

Roughly a year ago, we had the pleasure of exploring the first two releases from Dischi Fantom’s emerging Sussurra Luce series, Ginevra Bompiani, Caterina Barbieri, and Tomoko Sauvage’s “Il Calore Animale” and Francesco Cavaliere’s “Zoomachia Disc 1”. An extension of the Milan based cultural platform Fantom’s broad and diverse activities (exhibitions, installations, performances, etc.) across numerous artistic disciplines, the series, curated by Francesco Cavaliere and Massimo Torrigiani, delves into the “science of imagination”, working with contemporary authors to explore and blur the boundaries between text, music and voice. Now the brilliant series returns with its latest entry, the Berlin based multidisciplinary artist Hanne Lippard’s “Talk Shop”. Released in a limited edition of 200 copies and coming with an LP-sized booklet, it combines orality and textuality with the idea of loop and repetition to explore the notion of time, and it’s a stunning gesture of performative poetics that plums a startling range of subjects through its sonorous forms.

Working across the fields of text, vocal performance, sound installation, printed objects and sculpture, for more than a decade Hanne Lippard has deployed language as the raw material for her work. Working within a practice that rests at the juncture of the spoken and written word, drawing upon content appropriated from the public sphere (found text) intertwined with her own words, Lippard’s work investigates how the rise in digital communication and mediation reprograms our relationship to language, presenting the subsequent fragility of language - its flaws, oddities, and potential for misinterpretation - and its attempts to convey meaning and sense.

“Talk Shop”, the fifth instalment of Dischi Fantom’s Sussurra Luce series and Lippard’s third recorded release - building upon the ground of 2020's “Work”, issued by Collapsing Market, and 2021's “PigeonPostParis”, released by Boomkat Editions - began as a live performance. Combining orality and textuality with the idea of loop and repetition to explore the notion of time, its relationship with the world of work today, and its personification through the experience of the human body - anonymity as the spearhead of the digital economy - the conceptual underpinnings of the piece depart from the notion that the human voice has become commodified by the ubiquitous nature of contemporary productivity, and intertwined with the mechanics of capital - the voices of satnavs, smart speakers and voicemail systems - while the written word has become increasingly anonymous online.

Addressing vocal anonymity as a spearhead of the digital economy, Lippard’s “Talk Shop” - regarded by the artist as “a compilation of poems and texts where singular words and sentences are looped and repeated creating a sensory experience of the efficiency and stress found in our private as well as public life” - taps an almost dada sensibility through its unexpected layers of meanings drawn from a maximalized approach to the potential of the human voice, creating an engrossing and challenging listen from the first sounding to the last, that continues to reveal itself and unfold with every return.

Sculpting a fascinating bridge between radically experimental sound practice, conceptual art, and sound poetry, it culminates as one of the most strikingly singular creative gestures we’re likely to encounter this year. Highly recommended and not to be missed.

Hanne Lippard (Milton Keynes, 1984) explores the social forms that govern discourse. Her artistic practice, which mainly takes the form of reading and sound installations, investigates the voice as an instrument of emancipation and alienation in times of hyper-connectivity. By mixing personal thoughts and appropriating texts from advertising, slogans and newspaper articles, the text becomes a mix of private and public that regains inventiveness and authorship through the use of the voice, becoming a body of its own. Her recent artistic research has focused on the use of the female body as a container of sounds, on the conscious and unconscious automation of speech and language.

Angelo Harmsworth's lands on Warm Winters Ltd. with his newest album titled 'Without Blinking', imbued, as usual, with a kind of gentle de(con)struction. Comprising of two longer compositions and a shorter piece featuring Felisha Ledesma, 'Without Blinking' is music on the verge of collapse, barely held together by its syrupy textures, intoxicated rhythmic gestures and characteristically raw emotionality. It's Harmsworth trying to map the limits of the senses, playing with our perceptions of time, place and sound, creating something hallucinatory, pseudo-slow-motion, yet fundamentally cathartic in its extremes. He describes his approach as "gestural complexity alongside uncomplicated tonality", and recommends listening with your "eyes wide shut" – telling descriptions from an artist who tries to reconcile false dichotomies through intense yet captivating sonics.

'Without Blinking' follows Harmsworth's releases on enmossed/Psychic Liberation, Angoisse, Opal Tapes, and Lime Lodge, and continues his ongoing collaboration with Felisha Ledesma.

Next up on Feral Child, sees not only a second ever release from New Zealand based VOR-STELLEN but a teaming up with one of label head dom’s favourite ever labels, the mighty Flying Nun. Despite some patchy European distribution the first VS release “Parallelograms”, was a constant player at FC HQ; 4 superb tracks of super laid back, kraut flavoured slow burners, (lead track “Voyager” especially, comes hugely recommended with its accompanying film clip), so when the band OK’d a second release for Feral Child, we were stoked. Vor-stellen is the experimental project of Brendan Moran, which blends fixated guitars and drums with ad-hoc electronic layers producing perforated waves of sustain which echoes off the fourth wall. Brendan has released work previously as part of avoid!avoid (their album “Particle and Wave” was released by Flying Nun in 2016) and The Subliminals, of which Flying Nun re-released -in 2021- a vinyl edition of their highly acclaimed album “United State”. With Vor-stellen he picks up where those other projects have left off as a foray into 'kraut' inspired compositions “which seek to transform pre-determined ideas of music into open-ended sound objects, untethered from any sense of conventional outcomes”. On this, second VS record, he teams up with his Subliminal buddies once again to continue on an exploration, “folding the weird and the eerie into a dark ecology of long-sound via indefatigable environments of modulation and improvisation, creating sonic counterpoints that hinge on a reanimation of musical gestures”. The record features two side long slow builders and are released in a beautiful Brendan Moran designed sleeve.

Love Is A Flame In The Dark is the debut album by experimental songwriter Karl D’Silva. A raw labour of love, a towering spire of twisted steel, tenderness and becoming, it’s a body of songs that belies the virtuoso talents of an artist whose reputation has been built on collaborating with various avant garde underground luminaries. Self-recorded at home in Rotherham and pulsing with the conviction of a true believer, these songs burst out of their self-consciousness to meet life head on, bristling with energy, 10 glimpses of the human spirit in the darkness.
Recorded throughout 2021 - 2023 and mixed in Leeds with engineer Ross Halden, D’Silva has constructed a Pop language for himself. Mutated songs that owe a small debt to the post-Industrial music of Cabaret Voltaire, Nine Inch Nails and Coil, they’re nonetheless powered by a vigorous tenderness, earnestness and D’Silva’s knack for melody. Each song is meticulously sound-designed, using synthesised sounds created from scratch married with D’Silva’s virtuoso playing on saxophone and guitar. The songs on Love Is A Flame In The Dark are unabashed, earnest love letters to living, requiems for a world fading away and small gestures of solidarity in the face of entropy.
Until now, D’Silva’s fingerprints could be found on live dates with Thurston Moore, Oren Ambarchi, Hardcore pioneers Siege and Rian Treanor as well as recordings by previous groups Trumpets Of Death and Drunk In Hell. Primarily associated with the alto saxophone in his improvisation work, Love Is A Flame In The Dark features a dizzying array of instrumentation, all played by D’Silva. D’Silva’s current membership of the group Vanishing may be a good touchstone for the dense, sonically thrilling world-building on the album but the most
striking instrument, perhaps, is D’Silva’s voice. With a soulful, rasping timbre resulting from prolonged intubation as a new-born, his vocal is both fearless and tender. On the soaring, electronic body mover Wild Kiss, thundering percussion is in service to Karl’s voice full of desire, arching up into a flayed falsetto. It’s a trick repeated on Flowers Start To Cry, where it’s deployed against the backdrop of layers of ripping alto and thudding drum programming that recall Nine Inch Nails’ visceral production, if they were covering a Prince hit. These songs capture the essence of 2024’s Karl D’Silva music; pure physicality
breaking down to reveal a shining, compassionate vulnerability.
The full breadth of Karl D’Silva’s instrumental prowess is in evidence from the off. On The Outside imagines blooming out of personal apocalypse with a soundscape of synth, saxophone worthy of any late 60s Free Jazz blower and crushing sound design. Entropy is planet-sized synth pop, Nowhere Left To Run uses midi-string orchestration to tell a story of light emerging from the dark. It’s a theme picked up
throughout the album: The Butcher is a political parable, the narrator holding power to account with grotesque, brutal imagery. It’s on a track
like Real Life that the true message emerges, however. D’Silva is peering through the layers of artifice, struggle and the fog of daily
living to find a life full of energy, connection and light. Each song here is a route into this light, out of the darkness.

Wewantsounds is delighted to announce the reissue of Steve Beresford's highly sought-after album "Dancing the Line", released in France in 1985 on the French label nato. The album, taking its inspiration from French designer Anne Marie Beretta's fashion, features his Alterations acolyte David Toop plus Alan Hacker and Kazuko Hohki (Frank Chickens) with lyrics by Andrew Brenner. The music mixes sophisticated ambient pop powered by a RX11 drum machine with elements synth funk and experimental music. "Tendance" and "Comfortable Gestures" have become underground classics over the years and this is the first time the album is reissued, in partnership with nato who will release the CD version later this year. The reissue includes audio newly remastered by Translab in Paris, original gatefold artwork and a 4-page insert with liner notes by nato's Jean Rochard....

"Springing from Osaka, Japan’s cultural center and historical heart, comes HYPER GAL, a two-piece band consisting of visual artist Koharu Ishida on vocals and noise artist Kurumi Kadoya on drums.

The minimalist duo make maximum impact - stripping music down beyond the bare essentials, to create shimmering, no wave pop from blast beat drums, glittery keyboard loops and ethereal bubblegum vocals - laced with velvet and firecrackers.

On “After Image” HYPER GAL hold fast to their limited palette, but expand their reach. Working with a canvas larger than ever before, the band fearlessly alternate bold, avant-garde strokes with intimate, deliberate gestures. The result is a new world awash in a sea of endless possibilities - only visible with closed eyes and open ears.

“There's something almost vapor-wave-adjacent about the glorious racket riled up by this pair. The effect of repetition throughout, the way the beat slips in and out of time, is hypnotic” - THE WIRE

“Blends elements of noise, no wave, pop and blistering punk to create something remarkable and new… Endlessly inventive and challenging” - MAXIMUMROCKNROLL

“These royalty of no-wave-pop don't blink and their delivery is absolute. An exhilarating, total experience” - NOISE-FI

""Indescribable, just listen to it for yourself. And don't take any stimulants beforehand, you could end up in the emergency room"" – OX FANZINE

“It looks like noise, but there is too much color. Pop, but unsellable. Their music goes beyond barriers, genres and boundaries, as if a virus had been injected into a video game bringing delirious ruin to a perfect world” – SODA POP

“Intensely good. A beautiful challenge, a noise, relentless, not an onslaught, always inviting, like they want to pull you in rather than chase you away. Actually, this is joyous” - THE ORGAN"

Black Truffle is thrilled to present a Song for two Mothers / Occam IX the first ever solo release from Laetitia Sonami. Born in France in 1957, Sonami studied with Éliane Radigue in Paris before moving to California in 1978 to study electronic music at Mills College, going on to make important innovations in the field of live electronics interfaces and multi-media performance. Sonami is perhaps most closely associated with one of her inventions, the Lady’s Glove, an arm-length tailored glove fitted with movement sensors allowing the performer fluidly to control digital sound parameters and processing, as well as motors, lights and video playback. Having performed with the Lady’s Glove for 25 years, Sonami retired it in 2016, turning her attention to the interface/instrument heard and pictured here, the Spring Sprye.

In Sonami’s own description, “The Spring Spyre is composed of three thin springs that are attached to reverb tank pickups, mounted on a metal ring. The audio generated when the springs are touched, rubbed or struck is analyzed in Max/MSP. The extracted features are then used to train machine learning models in Wekinator and Rapidmax and control the audio synthesis in real time. We never actually hear the springs.” After decades of aversion to documenting her work on recordings, a Song for two Mothers / Occam IX treats listeners to two side-long performances with the Spring Spyre: the very first piece developed for the instrument and the most recent, the two contrasting remarkably in sound palette, energy and form. A Song for two Mothers (2023) spins an intricate web of rippling synthetic burbles, rapid sweeps and fizzing textures. Performed in real time with the sensitive and partly uncontrollable Spring Sprye ("a bit tyrannical," Sonami calls it), the music is delicate yet chaotic. Abrupt gestures hover against a backdrop of silence, "devoid of spatial or temporal direction". After several minutes, the sound-world becomes metallic and percussive, tapping and ticking in pointillistic flurries before a wavering harmonic cloud emerges, sprinkled with resonant drips and pops.


Occam IX is a radically different proposition. At the outset of Sonami’s exploration of the Spring Sprye, she asked her former teacher Éliane Radigue to compose a piece for it—and her: like all of Radigue’s work since she ceased working with analogue electronics at the beginning of the 21st century, Occam IX is written not only for an instrument but also for a particular performer. These scores are developed verbally, through meetings and conversations between performer and composer; each is grounded in an image (usually kept from listeners, to avoid influencing their experience); all magnify the subtlest acoustic phenomena and require great commitment and patience from the performer. Sonami’s is one of the few Occam pieces to make use of electronics, bringing it closer to Radigue’s famous longform pieces for ARP 2500. Beginning from a rumbling low tone, the listener is gradually immersed in slowly lapping waves of synthetic tones, eventually thinning out into delicate bell-like pings against a background of white noise, reminiscent of one of the most beautiful sections of Kyema from the Trilogie de la Morte.


Accompanied by notes from Sonami, her longtime collaborator Paul DeMarinis, and Radigue, and illustrated with scores, photographs and images of the Spring Spyre, a Song for two Mothers / Occam IX is an essential document celebrating an under-recognised pioneer of electronic music and performance.

Rising UK label Human Worth proudly present TORPOR's third full length album Abscission. A fine tapestry of sludge metal, lumbering doom riffs, forward thinking post-rock dynamics, cerebral drone passages, ambient textures and stark spoken poetry. Recorded by producer Wayne Adams (whose credits include Wallowing, Green Lung, Possessor and more), 'Abscission' is a paean to earth shattering tones, subtle detailed textures, immersive sound design and most importantly... ABSOLUTELY CRUSHING HEAVINESS. For their third album, TORPOR were compelled to withdraw into the bleak and elemental vistas of rural Wales, embracing isolation and solitude in order to craft this autumnal sonic landscape. The trio brought producer and frequent collaborator Wayne Adams (Petbrick, Big Lad) out of his London city studio to work at Giant Wafer Studios.

TORPOR's excursions into the wilderness can really be felt across these lengthy songs. Bludgeoning riffs show a new found density and weight reminiscent of gallant trees standing tall amongst battering wind and rain. All of this sonic magnitude has been finely captured by Adams, with the final master by James Plotkin (Khanate) completing this all-encompassing experience – quite fittingly the trio were also invited to showcase the album in full at the 2023 Roadburn Festival, on the day that Khanate headlined! Abscission is the sound of Torpor fully realising their visceral and cinematic vision, turning an unflinching gaze towards the unrealised lives we all carry with us. Human Worth have pressed a limited edition of environmentally conscious Eco-Mix Vinyl in a stunning packaged designed by Jack Burley, featuring a 12" foldout insert, with 10% of all proceeds donated to charity Second Step – a leading mental health charity in Bristol and the South West.

Since its founding back in 2014, Blume has carved a unique place in cultural landscape, issuing free-standing works, spanning the historical and contemporary, that represent singular gestures of creativity within the field of experimental sound. Joining their broad efforts in building networks of context and understanding that already includes the works by Werner Durand, Sarah Hennies, Bruce Nauman, John Butcher, Jocy de Oliveira, Mary Jane Leach, Valentina Magaletti, Alvin Curran, Julius Eastman, Alvin Lucier, and shortly after returning with the first ever vinyl release to attend to James Tenney’s legendary “Postal Pieces”, the label is now offering a brand new, ambitious work by the American composer Ben Vida, entitled “Vocal Trio”, conceived, performed, and recorded in Bremen, Germany, during the Spring of 2022. A truly stunning work of compositional conceptualism, combining the ideas of systems based synthesis with real-time vocal collaboration - issued in a highly limited vinyl edition of 200 copies mastered by Stephan Mathieu, featuring specially commissioned liner notes by Bradford Bailey and a leporello insert offering the piece visual score - it’s a landmark in contemporary experimental practice and arguably the most forward-thinking and exciting piece by one of the most exciting American artists working today.

Ben Vida first emerged during the mid 1990s within a loose constellation of experimental musicians, centred around a performance series of improvised workshops at the Myopic Bookstore in Chicago, alongside Jim O'Rourke, Kevin Drumm, Chad Taylor, and the other future members of Town and Country - Jim Dorling, Joshua Abrams, and Liz Payne - the band within which he would gain widespread recognition over the following years. Like many other members of that scene, Vida remains a restless product of a fleeting context - Chicago during the 1990s and early 2000s - continuously undermining concrete notions of idiom and signifier within a practice that witnessed him rendering bristling abstractions within Pillow, glacial melodies with Town and Country, the art-rock mayhem of Bird Show Band, and the angular, driving indie rock of Joan of Arc, before becoming immersed in a practice of systems based synthesis, beginning in the 2010s, that guided much of his first decade of output as a solo performer and composer.

As early as 2013, he began to incorporate acoustic sound sources - specifically the human voice - into his work. It was this shift, evolving and refining itself over the last decade, that underscores radically the leap in his practice represented by “Vocal Trio”, a work that encounters Vida composing for the human voice with the ideas that allow for synthesis - transferring the underlying concepts and structures of both subtractive and additive synthesis to the acoustic realm - without using a synthesiser.

During the Spring of 2022 Vida was in Bremen, Germany, collaborating on a dance piece with the choreographer Fay Driscoll, when the production fell into delays. Finding himself with time on his hands, a space at his disposal, and the company of two dancers - Amy Gernux and Lotte Rudhart - who were also singers, the idea for the piece - to utilising the larynx as audio paths (multi-harmonic or harmonically pure) while conceptualising each person’s mouth as a filter to sculpt the timbre and resonance of a given tone - began to take shape in his mind. Considering how typographical scores might be developed into a non-linguistic social framework, Vida drafted a single page of text - what became the score for “Vocal Trio” - accompanied by a set of harmonic suggestion and loose parameters, seeking a core meaning from each word's phonic make-up by each of the three singers (Vida, Gernux and Rudhart) singing as slowly as possible.

At the core of the pulsing vocal drones - intoxicating, harmonically rich long-tones - that make up the duration abstraction of “Vocal Trio”, is Vida’s regard for music as a social space. It is an experiment that seeks liberation through the act of collective music making, by challenging the terms through which the act of composing is perceived and then relinquishing control. The piece’s rehearsals were simply the three performers hanging out, allowing their knowing each other and natural dynamics to contribute to its form as the score, before recording during a single afternoon at the end of a number of days sharing company and space.

Creatively visionary and groundbreaking on numerous terms, as well as being intoxicatingly beautiful and remarkably listenable, Ben Vida’s “Vocal Trio” represents a striking step forward for one of the most ambitious and outstanding sonic artists working in the United States today. Issued by Blume in a highly limited vinyl edition of 200 copies mastered by Stephan Mathieu, featuring specially commissioned liner notes by Bradford Bailey and a leporello insert offering the piece visual score, this is hands down one of the most important contemporary records we’re likely to encounter in 2024.

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce a reissue of Chico Mello and Helinho Brandão’s self-titled release from 1984, the first return to vinyl of this classic of Brazilian experimental music with its original cover art and complete track listing. An under-recognised figure whose work inhabits a singular terrain where radical new music techniques and music theatre meet musica popular brasileira, Mello has lived and worked in Berlin since the late 1980s. A student of Dieter Schnebel, Mello played in the 90s iteration of Arnold Dreyblatt’s Orchestra of Excited Strings alongside compatriot Silvia Ocougne, with whom he produced a radical and hilarious deconstruction of MPB classics on Musica Brasileira De(s)composta (an early and rather atypical release on Edition Wandelweiser).

On this release, his only recording predating his move to Europe, Mello works with the alto saxophonist Helinho Brandão, who appears to be otherwise unknown outside Brazil. The record’s six tracks range from solo saxophone improvisation to densely layered ensemble works bridging minimalism, acoustic sound art and a plaintive melodic sensibility that calls up Edu Lobo or Milton Nascimento. Beginning with a dramatic, dissonant wind and string surge from which emerge ominously pounding piano chords, opener ‘Água’ slowly builds in intensity, a halo of clustered vocal harmonies gradually closing in on Brandão’s squealing sax until the piece opens up to reveal a gorgeous passage of melodic singing. The piano accompaniment reduces to tolling bass notes as the voice begins a repeated incantation, suggesting a ritualistic atmosphere reminiscent of parts of Xenakis’ setting of Oresteia. Dissonant, sawing tremolos on the strings climb to a crescendo before disappearing into the sounds of water being poured and splashed into metal vessels, presented not as a field recording but as a percussive element performed by the ensemble. A child’s voice then appears, singing to piano accompaniment the same melody heard earlier in the piece. After a brief solo alto improvisation from Brandão, working with the guttural pops and fleeting melodic gestures of Braxton or Roscoe Mitchell, the remainder of the first side is dedicated to the leisurely unfolding of ‘Baiando’ over the course of twelve minutes. A trio for Brandão on soprano saxophone, Mello on a very period-appropriate phased nylon string guitar and Edu Dequech on bongos, the performance eases its way hypnotically through subtle variations on a set of rhythmic and melodic patterns, almost derailed at points by Brandão’s wild forays into extended technique but held together by Mello’s droning guitar notes.

The second side opens with another multi-part epic for a larger ensemble, ‘Matraca’, which makes use of strings, electric guitars and a wide range of South American percussion instruments. Rasping violin harmonics hover as drum hits, repeated guitar notes and triangle accompany a slowly descending bass glissando. A sudden change in direction introduces a thrumming, incessantly repeated bowed bass tone, beginning a series of episodes of minimalist phasing and pattern variation, the combinations of electric guitars and orchestral instruments giving the ensemble an ad hoc charm like the early Penguin Café Orchestra but with more percussive drive. Eventually the piece is overrun by a cacophony of the titular matracas (a kind of ratchet/cog rattle). Following a lyrical trio improvisation by Mello, Brandão and Gerson Kornin on bass, the final ‘Danca’ focuses entirely on Mello’s layered acoustic guitars and vocals, using this restricted palette to build up a haunting piece of almost orchestral density, reminiscent of the 70s work of Egberto Gismonti in how it thickens a folkish ambience with harmonic sophistication.

Arriving in a starkly beautiful gatefold sleeve and sounding better than ever in its new remaster, one might call the stunning music contained on Chico Mello/Helinho Brandão ahead of its time. But what (other than some of Mello’s own work) produced in the years since its initial release has really touched the organic fusion of minimalism, free improvisation, radical instrumental technique and popular song achieved here? Forty years after its first release, Chico Mello/Helinho Brandão remains music of the future.

sentiment is a meditation of the poignant emotional terrains of loneliness, nostalgia, sentimentality, guilt, and sex. The album"s narrative arc is guided by delicate musical gestures and artistic vulnerability, audaciously synthesizing disparate and unexpected influences. claire rousay is a singular artist, known for challenging conventions in experimental and ambient music forms. rousay masterfully incorporates textural found sounds, sumptuous drones and candid field recordings into music that celebrates the beauty in life"s banalities. Her music is curatorial and granular in detail, deftly shaped into emotionally affecting pieces. rousay"s vocals and guitar take center stage on sentiment. Her intimate, diaristic lyrics contrast with her mechanical-inflected vocal effects, emphasizing a powerful desire for connection, a deep yearning and a lingering sense of separation. The spare guitar playing and laconic tempo both drive the songs and exude a sense of resignation. Her delicate mastery of nuance draws on her explorative musical past that she, with sincerity and admiration, seamlessly interweaves into her adventurous textures and distinctive compositions. "I want to belong to the worlds and communities I look up to. Same as someone using a Fender guitar or dressing like Kurt Cobain. Emulate your heroes," says rousay. The album balances the poetic soul of her influences with a documentarian heart, rousay capturing moments of her life while living alone in houses across the country, learning to play guitar, and reconnecting with pop music. Her innate ability to conjure pure feeling from sound derives from her delightful embrace of pop forms, the vulnerability found in field recordings, minimalistic arrangements and innovative sound choices. sentiment is blissfully, achingly melancholic, and an undeniably sensual listening experience.

Marking its first decade of activity, Blume returns with the first ever vinyl reissue of the seminal “New Music for Electronic and Recorded Media”, from 1977, the third and final instalment in a suite of releases that includes James Tenney’s “Postal Pieces” and Ben Vida’s “Vocal Trio”. Unquestionably among the most important collections of experimental music to emerge during the 20th Century, “New Music for Electronic and Recorded Media” is the original feminist presentation in its context, releasing the work of Johanna M. Beyer, Annea Lockwood, Pauline Oliveros, Laurie Spiegel, Megan Roberts, Ruth Anderson, and Laurie Anderson under its collective banner. Includes newly commissioned liner notes by Jennifer Lucy Allen and Bradford Bailey.

Since its founding back in 2014, Blume has carved a unique place in cultural landscape, issuing free standing works, spanning the historical and contemporary, that represent singular gestures of creativity within the field of experimental sound. Joining their broad efforts in building networks of context and understanding that already includes the efforts of efforts of Werner Durand, Sarah Hennies, Bruce Nauman, John Butcher, Jocy de Oliveira, Mary Jane Leach, Valentina Magaletti, Alvin Curran, Julius Eastman, Alvin Lucier, and others, Blume delivers their third release in their first suite of releases for 2024, the fist ever vinyl reissue of the seminal “New Music for Electronic and Recorded Media” compilation, originally issued by Thomas Buckner's 1750 Arch Records in 1977. Out of print for decades on vinyl and arguably the most important feminist statement in the history of experimental music, illuminating the work of Johanna M. Beyer, Annea Lockwood, Pauline Oliveros, Laurie Spiegel, Megan Robert, Ruth Anderson, and Laurie Anderson - in a number of cases representing their recording debuts - during a crucial moment in the history of experimental music. Blume’s brand new edition - complete with newly commissioned liner notes by Jennifer Lucy Allen and Bradford Bailey, as well as reproducing Charles Amirkhanian’s original accompanying text - radically shifts perceptions of the past and present day with its truly revolutionary sounds.

Issued by Thomas Buckner's 1750 Arch Records in 1977, and out of print nearly the entire time since, “New Music for Electronic and Recorded Media” can be understood within two simple frameworks. On one hand, it is an astounding document of the landscape of experimental music toward the end of the 1970s. On the other, it is a historically significant feminist statement, being the first collection of experimental music entirely dedicated to female composers, a number of whom were grossly under-celebrated at the time, but have since gone on to be regarded as among the most important composers of their generation.

The eight pieces gathered by “New Music for Electronic and Recorded Media” - Johanna M. Beyer’s “Music of the Spheres”, Annea Lockwood’s “World Rhythms”, Pauline Oliveros’ “Bye Bye Butterfly”, Laurie Spiegel’s “Appalachian Grove I”, Megan Roberts’ “I Could Sit Here All Day”, Ruth Anderson’s “Points”, and Laurie Anderson’s “New York Social Life” and “Time To Go (For Diego)” - might be regarded as the first cohesive vision of alternate proximity or expression of experimental music to what has always been a frustratingly male dominated environment, and to the tropes, temperaments, and sensibilities that have been historically perceived to define it. It is an expanded vision of truth. While the presence of feminine sensibilities and temperaments in experimental music, however they may present themselves, were anything but new in 1977, “New Music for Electronic and Recorded Media” was the first opportunity, beyond the temporal limitations of live performance, to view them collectively, rather than as individualised expressions within a larger body of similar gestures (as was the case of Oliveros’ inclusion in Odyssey’s 1967 “New Sounds In Electronic Music” and “Extended Voices” compilations) where they might be confused for something else; to regard and celebrate a radical notion of feminine sonority for its unique characteristics and through its interrelations.

While its historical significance and groundbreaking nature can not be debated in its totality, nearly half a century on “New Music for Electronic and Recorded Media” remains compelling in both its musicality and the palpable sense of its lasting influence. Every composition across the album’s two sides is not only engrossing and deeply compelling - feeling as fresh and relevant as the day it was laid to tape - but clearly tangible in their lasting influence. Viewed in context, the album’s eight works feel like breath of fresh air when compared to much of what came before, and laid the groundwork for much of what was to come, introducing a new, often more holistic temperament and more sensitive and inclusive sensibility into the landscape of experimental music.

Particularly in the case of Annea Lockwood, Pauline Oliveros, Laurie Spiegel, Ruth Anderson, and Laurie Anderson, it's hard to throw ourselves back in time and imagine a moment when these composers rested in a fairly marginalised corner of the creative landscape. Blume’s brand new edition of “New Music for Electronic and Recorded Media” - complete with newly commissioned liner notes by Jennifer Lucy Allen and Bradford Bailey, as well as reproducing Charles Amirkhanian’s original accompanying text - brings us back to this confounding moment and points us toward a crucial moment of change set forth by these incredible composers and their sounds. Absolutely seminal and not to be missed.

Pleasure Planet’s kaleidoscopic debut album has been a long time coming, but good things come to those who wait. Developed over years of late-night studio improvisations, ‘Pleasure Planet’ is an affectionate and colorful patchwork of the New York City-based trio’s knotted influences that’s suspended between the rave and the chill-out room, weaving glistening pads and chunky basslines into vocal earworms and warm, saturated rhythmic cycles. Bandmates Andrew Potter, Kim Ann Foxman and Brian Hersey enter into a lysergic dialog with their discrete personal musical histories, drawing inspiration from vintage EBM, ambient music and heady early ’90s West Coast rave sounds and launching these classic elements into a transcendent new sonic universe.

Celebrated DJ and producer Foxman was a lead singer of Hercules and Love Affair when she first ran into DC rave veteran Potter, and the two rapidly realized their musical interests overlapped. So when Potter was recording with his studiomate Hersey, a NYC underground club scene mainstay, and they needed to bring in a vocalist, the choice was simple. Working together was a refreshing, freeing experience for the three seasoned artists, and the more they experimented, the closer they became; Foxman ended up moving into the studio, and Pleasure Planet was manifested into existence. “We’re like family,” says Potter. “We’re always on the same page – we couldn’t make this music solo.”

For Foxman, the open-ended jam sessions provided her with a chance to try something new, a few steps from the dancefloor-forward DJ tracks she’s best known for producing. And as the trio pooled their adolescent rave memories, reflecting on them with more mature ears, they began to develop the signature sound that was first heard on the Throne Of Blood-released ‘Animals’ 12″. Pleasure Planet aren’t trying to re-capture the past, but suggest a poetic contemplation that layers their recollections and musical obsessions into a hypnotic sci-fi dream. Harnessing a self-described “Aladdin’s cave” of analog and digital gear that help galvanize the timeline, they bridge the gap between avant-pop and icy bleep techno, curving suggestive words through lattices of tightly-engineered electronics.

On ‘Endless’, Foxman’s voice is echoed into a glistening haze that hovers around ethereal pads and tense, electroid pulses. Slow-moving and evocative, it’s a track that capture the open endedness of post-rave euphoria, touching the afterparty but moving far beyond the material world. She’s more recognizable on ‘Alien’, the album’s most upfront track, singing in a glassy, upper-register coo over urgent bass bumps, taut guitars and florid electronic atmospheres. “Are you an alien, or are you an angel?” she asks, fractalizing the borders between genres. And the band’s sense of cosmic togetherness bubbles to the surface on ‘Saved by the Bells’, a meditative after-hours experiment that diminishes the pulsing beats for a moment to bring out a spectrum of interconnected, serpentine melodies.

Modular bleeps and echoing percussion anchor the swooning ‘Planet Love’, one of Pleasure Planet’s most recent compositions and one of the album’s most outwardly psychedelic cuts, while the urgent and anthemic ‘Go With Madness’ steps back towards the main stage, evaporating Foxman’s memorable calls into a thumping procession of analog drums and squelchy, acidic bass tweaks. But they save the best for last, tugging at the heartstrings with ‘Remember (In Dreams)’, a giddy spiral of blipping synth arpeggios and haunting, reverberated chorals. It’s the perfect way to conclude an album that cryptically gestures towards the vulnerability of friendship, celebrating the shared experiences that result in some of the most meaningful memories of all.