Search:the hands

Corps Perdu emerges from Lamin Fofana’s ongoing practice of creating immersive and multisensory sound environments, informed and inspired by the historically rich texts of scholars and poets working in the tradition of Black Studies. The words of W.E.B. Du Bois, Sylvia Wynter, Dionne Brand, Fred Moten, Édouard Glissant, Suzanne Césaire and Aimé Césaire are transmuted and circulated as sound, offered to listeners through radio, live events, albums and installations. Fofana honours his sources with an audible historical awareness, yet his sounds always simultaneously open out into the turbulent uncertainties of the present.
The music we hear on the album Corps Perdu was previewed within a series of collective reading and listening sessions carried out in Paris, Barcelona, Tunis and New York City, where voices from the audience read aloud fragments from a body of texts Fofana had selected. The spontaneous unfolding of close reading and listening, mixed live by Fofana in these collective listening experiences, speaks to the open-ended quality of Corps Perdu. The album, now published, is but one iteration of this ongoing inquiry into the relationship between sound and text.
Corps Perdu presents an introspective journey with no return, and as such is full of omens of all kinds. Across ten tracks Lamin Fofana creates a sibling or companion to the transformation he initiated in his previous album Works in Metal, building a narrative that takes us into Krakatoa prior to its eruption, and lets us listen to Césaire’s ‘flying seed dreaming very loudly’. The album’s track titles and narrative arc hum in and out and alongside Césaire’s poetry, mainly Césaire’s 1950 collection Corps Perdu, in which the ten poems are accompanied by engravings by Picasso merging fragments of bodies and plants—a collaboration that emerged from their first encounter two years earlier, at the Communist-led World Congress of Intellectuals for Peace, in Wroclaw, Poland.
The music on Corps Perdu labours intuitive hand-held melodies through dense processing. There are many rhythms throughout, though these never surrender to the density of the dancefloor grooves we’ve heard Fofana craft on previous albums (think of the ‘Obscure Light’ pair from Works in Metal for example). Instead, Fofana gently releases the clenched hands Césaire’s Corps Perdu begins with: ‘Among me, from myself, to myself, outside any constellation, clenched in my hands only, the rare hiccup of an ultimate raving spasm, keep vibrating word’. The album carries through sound the scattering and liquid fragmentation that shape the desperate metamorphosis of a ‘lost body’.

Welcome to the DUB SOUND from Jamaica. The vocal records cut back to the bones of bass & drums, with the instruments and vocals faded in and out sometimes with echo and reverb to make a great new VERSION!!.

Although remembered as an early 70’s phenomenon, the du­­bbed sound can be dated back as early as 1968. But by the mid– seventies it became the norm for records to carry a Version (dub) b-side and in fact many records were brought for this reason especially if they were known to come from the hands of the dub master himself King Tubby. So, sit back and enjoy this dub excursion, many from the hands of King Tubby but, all classics in their own right.

The sun sat high above the desert outside Joshua Tree on October 17, 2024, baking the rocks and shrubbery outside the Farrington Observatory as a small group of invited guests ventured up a steep path towards the telescope. Kyle Simon, the artist and printmaker who founded the Observatory, was standing outside the print studio sat below the towering cylindrical building, greeting friends alongside his wife Sarah and lifelong friend Brian Weitz, the musician widely known as Geologist of Animal Collective. Simon and Weitz had spent the previous day testing and retesting a system that would transform the light of the oncoming full moon captured by the gigantic telescope into a signal that would modulate the control voltage of Weitz’s modular synthesizer. As the sun dipped below the horizon line, the audience gathered on a small wooden patio surrounded by speakers while Weitz readied himself behind the array of patches and knobs. Simon addressed the group, presenting the history of The Sirens, the sonic exploration of the night sky’s mystical and scientific significance about to unfold.

The music conjured under the Hunter’s Moon that night is now documented on this first official release of The Sirens, which was conceived by Simon and Weitz as a recurring performance piece and sound installation. Over a decade ago, Simon began immersing himself in literature on humanity’s sonic relationship to the celestial realm, including Homer’s Odyssey, Plato’s “Spindle of Necessity, ” Kepler’s Harmonices Mundi, and the field of astroseismology. He fitted homemade telescopes with photodiodes and optical sensors to make the images audible, finding latent patterns in the noisy sonic signals he began receiving from the stars. With Weitz, the process expanded as the signal was routed through an analog amplifier and set to modulate the pitch, filter, and other elements of his synthesizer. Together they developed a system of improvisation, with Simon adjusting the telescope to change the intensity of the light based on its relationship with the moon’s position (imagine a theremin player moving their hands in subtle, meaningful motion), and Weitz responding to that input in real time: bending it, amplifying it, or letting it stand on its own. The duo debuted the piece at the Integretron in Joshua Tree in 2018, providing a crucial proof of concept for the performance at Farrington featured here.

The first thing the listener hears on The Sirens is the opening of Farrington Observatory, the cranking of motor and metal. As the lens of the telescope is exposed to the evening air, a wavering drone emerges from the synthesizer, flickering at the margins, the tuning of the oscillators adjusting to the rapidly cooling desert air. The piece progresses and the drone becomes a luminous, spherical constant, bathing the listener in pure tone as Weitz draws out harmonically ambiguous melodies that spiral upwards. Electronics crackle and convulse, coalescing into dense dissonance before widening out into an open octave. Just as the moon orbits the Earth and the stars shift as the planet rotates, so each sonic element appears in flux, interrelationships slowly forming and falling away. Divided into two parts, The Sirens flows as a continuous conversation between the artists and the starlight completing its thousand-year journey across the galaxy.

The Sirens belongs primarily to a lineage beyond music: of sea captains navigating by looking skyward, of astrophysicists studying the formation of the Milky Way, of the modern myths of werewolves, of the stories embedded in constellations. As Simon writes in the album’s extensive liner notes, “These stories and explorations reveal a collective yearning to become conscious of our connection to the universe, our deep-seated desire to understand how we fit into it all.” This music underscores the history of the night sky as the place where poetry and science find common ground, where exploration hinges on the imagination. Driven by curiosity and ingenuity, Weitz and Simon look up and wonder.

There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.


Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.


At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along

There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.


Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.


At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along

After a savage summer of performing over 35 festival shows, COLLIGNON continue their journey with the release of Bicicleta.

Bicicleta was written and recorded right in the midst of the band's summer tour. Gino, Yves and Jori seized the moment, the album captures exactly where they currently stand as a band: thriving on the energy of their live performances, with the desire to dive deeper into their music.

The result is Bicicleta—a diverse and authentic album that stays true to COLLIGNON’s distinctive blend of wildly grooving beats, psychedelic guitars, and sharp keyboard riffs. The music transports listeners across many borders, all while maintaining their signature COLLIGNON sound.

This album was made with vinyl in mind, designed to be experienced as a complete journey. From the first Maloya rhythms of "Fonkér la Mér" (Kreol for 'fond du cœur de la mer', meaning ‘from the bottom of the heart of the sea’) to the Brazilian groove and cosmic crescendo of "Vai Vai Vai (Into the Stars)", Bicicleta is a trip that flows from track to track.

The album, recorded while Jori left his Portuguese studio for a year-long stay in the Netherlands, pays homage to what -without engine, exhaust or pollution- might be considered the finest emblem of Dutch culture: the bicycle.

The words of adventurer Nellie Bly, written in 1896, still ring true today: ‘In a frenetic era of expanding possibilities, cycling offers a journey into a landscape of dreams. The bicycle has always signified independence and freedom in steering one’s daily course and the byways of its occasional adventures.’

To truly experience this album, nothing compares to holding the vinyl sleeve in your hands and spinning the record on your turntable.

After decades contributing to records where a single riff could transform a dancefloor, Charlie May turns that instinct inward on Trusted Farms.
For over thirty years, Charlie has occupied a position that seems increasingly rare in electronic music: the musician’s musician, the person behind the machines, the extra pair of hands in the studio, and quite often, the person responsible for the melody you end up carrying around in your head for weeks on end. 
Alongside Duncan Forbes as Spooky, Charlie helped shape some of the most important electronic music to emerge from the UK in the early ’90s. That partnership would also sow the seeds for one of Sasha’s defining records: the central riff behind Xpander began life in Spooky’s live material, before Charlie brought the idea into the studio with Sasha and helped transform it into one of electronic music’s most enduring anthems.
Listen closely to Charlie’s work and there’s a particular instinct that keeps returning: knowing when a simple synth line is enough. Knowing which note needs to change. Knowing when repetition stops being repetition and starts becoming the entire reason a track works. More recently, as one-third of Quiet Places on ASIP, he’s taken those same instincts somewhere looser — beatless, gridless and led by improvisation.
Trusted Farms puts those instincts front and centre.
Tiny melodic phrases appear and refuse to leave. Synth lines repeat just long enough to become lodged in your head. Parts rub against each other without being tidied into submission. There’s a sharpness and directness to it all amongst the purposeful analogue warmth.
Some of these tracks feel almost ridiculously simple at first. But simplicity is difficult when you’ve spent decades learning every possible way to complicate something. Many of the parts on Trusted Farms were performed live with minimal editing. A synth line might be doubled, distorted, re-recorded and pushed back through another piece of equipment, but it remains the same idea. Instead of filling the gaps, Charlie works on the weight and character of what is already there. The melodies become physical; slightly worn around the edges.
For someone whose fingerprints can be found across some genuinely monumental moments in electronic music, Charlie has spent decades knowing what to add. 
Trusted Farms is about knowing exactly what to leave alone.
Available on black 12”, mastered by Andreas Lupo LOOP-O Lubich and featuring artwork by Peter Skwiot Smith,

For Louis Johnstone, making music has never been about waiting for the right equipment, the right environment or the right moment. Across more than a decade of work as both Wanda Group and A Large Sheet Of Muscle, the Huddersfield-based musician has built one of British experimental music's most singular bodies of work by embracing whatever happens to be within reach, allowing instinct, improvisation and circumstance to shape the outcome as much as conscious composition.
"'Chinese Benefits' was made over a year ago on an iPhone that had a broken microphone and was on its way out," he explains. "I have made many records after this with clearer sounds. Sharper ideas. That is never the point, though. You work with what you hold in your hands."
Recorded entirely on a failing iPhone 6 that stopped working shortly afterwards, 'Chinese Benefits' isn't a record about damaged technology. It is a record shaped by it. Rather than resisting the limitations of the device, Johnstone allows them to become part of the music itself, where distortion, interference and deteriorating fidelity are inseparable from the recording process.
Across twenty brief but disquieting pieces, corroded spoken word, environmental recordings, abrasive noise and fractured electronics continually emerge and dissolve. Voices drift in and out of range, reverberation stretches everyday sounds beyond recognition, and bursts of white noise interrupt moments of uneasy calm. There are echoes of radio transmissions, field recordings and musique concrète throughout, yet 'Chinese Benefits' never settles comfortably into any one tradition. Instead, it inhabits a space where accident and intention become almost impossible to separate.

That philosophy has long defined Johnstone's work. Through a vast catalogue of self-released recordings on his Umbro G imprint, alongside releases for labels including The Trilogy Tapes, he has consistently favoured immediacy over refinement, embracing imperfection not as an aesthetic but as a practical reality. His recordings are less concerned with perfection than with capturing the conditions in which they were made.
Looking back on 'Chinese Benefits', however, Johnstone's own assessment is characteristically understated.
"Listening back fully, it's quite a nice record actually. Fair enough, I make them and never really listen again TBH. Even better, it was the last Large Sheet Of Muscle record made on that phone with grit and damaged guts."

Like much of his work, 'Chinese Benefits' offers few fixed meanings. Its titles remain cryptic, its voices partially obscured and its structures deliberately unstable. What emerges instead is a deeply personal document of process over perfection, where the limitations of the tools become inseparable from the music they produce, and where the act of making something matters far more than the conditions in which it was made.

Fila Brazillia is the name of the decidedly singular collaboration between Steve Cobby and David McSherry, born in the coastal town of Hull in the UK. Bending—and often outright breaking—more or less every rule in the book, they've been effortlessly blending deep house, downtempo, breaks, ambient, and wry humour, sampling anything they can get their hands on. Their first outing was the 1990 single-sided white label 12" Mermaids, an airy deep house tune featuring a cheeky sample taken from the theme from Robison Crusoe. Since then, they've released a boat load of singles, seven highly regarded full-lengths, and more than 60 remixes for artists such as Radiohead, Busta Rhymes, and Lamb.

Black Market Gardening is their third full-length and marks a creative high-point for the duo. Over nine tracks, Fila Brazillia guides you through hazy, bass-heavy trip hop, cosmic synth lines, brisk breakbeats, funky guitar riffs, and even touch of drum 'n bass (it's the mid-1990s after all...). There's just so much to take in, leaving the listener wondering where the samples end and the live instrumentation begins. Yes, Fila Brazillia's output fits squarely within the chill-out tradition prevalent in the UK at that point in time, but their unmatched creativity and boundless approach to the studio process makes their music truly timeless.

Black Market Gardening is available as a 30th anniversary edition for the first time since 2001.

DJ Support: Dj Harvey, Bicep, TEED, Sarah Story, Joe Goddard, Make A Dance, Dj Subaru, Demi Requismo, Horsemeat Disco, Greg Wilson, Crazy P, Justin Strauss, Sean Johnston (ALFOS), Masilmiliano Pagliara, Red Rack’em Jordan Nocturne , Gina Breeze, Heidi Lawden, Eugene Whang, Neil Diablo, Gina Breeze, Marcel Vogel.

After a mysterious hiatus, one of The essential edit labels of the 2010’s has returned just as inexplicably as it disappeared..

The previous 4 volumes now change hands with private collectors for $$ .. These limited run edits will no doubt sell out in similar fashion..

The A side see’s the most dance floor oriented but often over looked track from Bjork’s album Debut receive the DJ edit it always needed . A2 a unique rework of a very rare nrg record that started out like as Aerobics accompaniment album..

On the Flip B1 take Turn toward the Funk , PBR giving the heavy dub treatment to one of The Whispers most criminally ignored tracks. Rounding things off the B2 drifts into the work of wonky, sleazy Italo.. Magari uses the little understood “wrong speed” technique to sublime effect, combined with some extra synth work it delivers a an entirely different track…one for the heads..

Back from ‘96 — Abacus’ legendary The Abacus EP returns, now reissued as Erotic Illusions. Deep, soulful and hypnotic house at its finest, straight from the Guidance era. Pure timeless heat — grab it before it vanishes again.


DJ Feedbacks :

Laurent Garnier : Classic <3 <3
Nick Hoppner : OOOOOH YES
Dan Beaumont (Chapter 10 / NTS) : Decadent dub for me! lovely
Louise Chen (NTS) : Huge fan, this is a wonderfully sexy reissue!
Joel Martin (Quiet Village) : Timeless Classic from one of the masters - Essential!
Kölsch (IPSO / Kompakt) : Still sounds so fresh
Sven von Thuelen (SVT / Work Them) : Sublime!
Josh Wink (Ovum) : Sounds just as great as when it first came out!
Satoshi Tomiie (Abstract Architecture) : Soooo good! Every details tuned precisely
Carista : sickkkk
Crackazat (Freerange / Local Talk) : yes. of course
Anthony Collins (Frank & Tony / Scissor & Thread) : fantastic record
Hunee (Rush Hour) : classic!
Call Super (Houndstooth) : lovely thxxx
Erol Alkan (Phantasy Sound) : Downloading Thanks!
Radio Slave (Rekids) : Such a big fan !!! Full support and congrats on the re-release. Peeps need to know about "Abacus".
Ben Sims : Now downloading... will check asap!
nd_baumecker (Ostgut Ton) : YAAAAAS! Finally I have this in a better quality than my vinyl rip from the original 12". Vinyl is preordered. Thanks!
Jonnie Wilkes (Optimo) : SEMINAL.
Lawrence (Dial) : OMG Fave Classic!
Fouk (House of Disco / Razor N Tape / Room With A View / Heist) : Ooooh yes! <3
Hector Romero (Def Mix) : Love it. H
Aleqs Notal : Lovely repress
Alinka (Twirl / Classic / Crosstown Rebels / Batty Bass) : Beautiful tracks
Terry Farley : fantastic reissue for those that missed the golden era
Ian Pooley (Pooledmusic) : Sooooooooo good !
Marcia Carr : The Dub without a lot less of the sleazy vocal is cool.
Nick Holder : FIRE
DJ Bone (FURTHER) : Poetic Illusions and Decadent Dub both work for me.
Nat Wendell (Depth of My Soul / Courtesy of Balance / Love & Loops) : classy!!
Luke Solomon (Classic / Freaks / Music For Freaks) : absolute classic Kenny Hawkes special xxx
ROD / Benny Rodrigues : !!!!
Domenic Cappello (Subclub) : still sounds fresh
Alexkid (Rawax / FUSE / NG Trax) : Total Dopeness
Jimpster (Freerange) : An absolute classic from the golden era! Got the vinyl but I'm sure these new masters will sound better than my well worn vinyl rip! Will keep on banging this beauty.
Bake (All Caps / Rinse FM) : the best! thank you for reissuing :)
Dj Deep (Deeply Rooted) : Nice to see this beautiful release available again
Kai Alce (Real Soon) : CLASSIK!!
Mr. V (Sole Channel / Strictly Rhythm / Salter / Defected) : Solid work on this classic Thanks
Baby Rollen (Holding Hands / Slump / Futureboogie) : timeless
DJ Gregory (Point G / Faya Combo) : Alwayes loved that classic
Tom Esselle (YAM / Rhythm Section / WOLF Music) : Killer reissue!
Harri (Sub Club) : nice, will play and support
Hifi Sean (Defected / Plastique) : Diggin' this dub big time
Jenifa Mayanja (Bumako Recordings) : This reissue sounds just as good second time around. Straight dance floor magic. Moody and dubby perfect to zone out to in a dark corner somewhere.
Demuja (MUJA / Let's Play House / Madhouse / Freerange) : nice!!
Marcel Dettmann : thx
Kosh (Syncrophone) : doesnt get any better than this
Dj Hutch (Ambers / Rinse FM) : Lovely deep business! Thank you!
Geir Aspenes (G-Ha / Sunkissed) : Kool, thanks
D'Julz (Bass Culture) : classic alert!

Familiar. Usually reserved for things we think we know. A face, a place, a feeling, a record perhaps. Until, of course, they aren’t quite the same anymore. Or maybe you aren’t.
Jennifer’s debut album lives somewhere around there.
It’s a record about time, which is already a fairly ambitious subject considering nobody seems to have figured that one out yet. More specifically, it’s about what
time does to a person. The old versions, the new versions, and all the ones in between that you only notice when something suddenly brings them back. Someone you
haven’t seen in years. A room you used to know. A certain way the light falls. That sort of thing.

There’s a bit of a doppelgänger situation going on, too. Finding something completely new and somehow recognising it. Meeting yourself again without immediately realising who you’re talking to.
Which can be nice. Or strange. Usually both. The songs on Familiar sit comfortably with that contradiction. Looking backwards without wanting to go back. Missing things without necessarily wanting them
returned. Realising that people who once occupied most of your waking hours can become people whose address you don’t know. Meanwhile, some tiny, seemingly irrelevant detail from fifteen years ago remains perfectly intact.
Memory has its own filing system. Not a particularly sensible one.
Jennifer wrote a series of poems alongside the album. In them, familiarity appears in melting snow, rough coastlines, a kitchen already warm in the morning, somebody’s hands fitting into yours. Elsewhere she wonders about someone she
once knew everything about and now knows nothing about. They could live around the corner. They could live on another continent. They could, technically, be dead. Probably not. But that’s time for you.
Maybe Familiar is less about remembering who you were than realising you never entirely stopped being them. Things get added. Things disappear. Things come back looking slightly different.
And somehow, you recognise them.

Die Welt war nie bereit für The Monsters, und The Monsters waren nie bereit für diese Welt. Nach vierzig Jahren, in denen sie zu einem echten Monster aus Fleisch und Blut herangereift sind, präsentieren sie ihr neuntes Album: gut ein Dutzend kompromissloser, wilder, lärmiger und fuzz-geladener Tracks. Ein Mix aus Ein-Riff-Beat, Trash, Garage, "Bern Metal", Boogie, Punk und Grunge - Songs, die einen von innen nach außen stülpen, aufgenommen mit "Miracle" Robert "Worker" Butler und abgemischt von Jim "Dirtbomb" Diamond - ein echtes Garage-Punk-Dreamteam. Vor vierzig Jahren, 1986, war die Jugendkultur-Revolution in Bern (Schweiz) in vollem Gange, Jugendliche und junge Erwachsene wollten sich aus den konservativen Fesseln befreien. Die Straßen brannten, Clubs entstanden und eine neue Schweizer Musikkultur wurde geboren. Dies markierte auch den Beginn von The Monsters. Vierzig Jahre später hat sich der Zustand der Musikkultur - oder vielmehr der Welt im Allgemeinen - wohl eher verschlechtert. Individuelles Denken und Schaffen sind nach wie vor nicht sonderlich anerkannt oder gar erwünscht (Hey KI!). Im März 2026 blieb der Band also nichts anderes übrig, als ihre Instrumente, das Aufnahme-Equipment und ihre Ideen in den Proberaum zu verfrachten. Sie verbrachten einen Monat mit Robert Butler (u. a. The Miracle Workers) und seinem mobilen "Two Cent Recording Studio". Sie schrieben Texte (insgesamt etwa 100 Wörter - mal sinnvoll, mal unsinnig, über das ganze Album verstreut), tüftelten am Sound und nahmen Gitarren in allen erdenklichen Variationen auf. Das Ganze wurde gewürzt mit Percussion, Schlagzeug, Bass sowie obskuren Orgeln und Synthesizern, die sie auf Flohmärkten oder in den Kellern von Freunden aufgetrieben hatten. Nach diesem vierwöchigen Trip schickten sie das gesamte Chaos an Jim Diamond (Ghetto Recorders Studios in Detroit, Dirtbombs, White Stripes, Gories, André Williams... klar, worum es geht, ne?!), um es einem umwerfenden Mix-Abenteuer zu unterziehen. Das Ergebnis ist ein Dutzend Songs ohne Kompromisse, Schwächen oder Stärken. Einfach nur roher, ungeschliffener Lo-Fi-Garage-Punk'n'Roll voller Energie - und das mit vierzig Jahren "Nicht-Erfahrung". Erhältlich sind schwarzes Vinyl und eine pinke Picture-Disc (beide mit Insert & DLC), eine höchst audiophile CD sowie Kassette, die bei doppelter Geschwindigkeit leiert! Für Fans von Reverend Beat-Man, VRR, The Mummies, Oblivians, Billy Childish, Damaged Goods, Monks, very early Hives, Garagepunk, Lo-Fi-Roll, Alternative Beat

Die Welt war nie bereit für The Monsters, und The Monsters waren nie bereit für diese Welt. Nach vierzig Jahren, in denen sie zu einem echten Monster aus Fleisch und Blut herangereift sind, präsentieren sie ihr neuntes Album: gut ein Dutzend kompromissloser, wilder, lärmiger und fuzz-geladener Tracks. Ein Mix aus Ein-Riff-Beat, Trash, Garage, "Bern Metal", Boogie, Punk und Grunge - Songs, die einen von innen nach außen stülpen, aufgenommen mit "Miracle" Robert "Worker" Butler und abgemischt von Jim "Dirtbomb" Diamond - ein echtes Garage-Punk-Dreamteam. Vor vierzig Jahren, 1986, war die Jugendkultur-Revolution in Bern (Schweiz) in vollem Gange, Jugendliche und junge Erwachsene wollten sich aus den konservativen Fesseln befreien. Die Straßen brannten, Clubs entstanden und eine neue Schweizer Musikkultur wurde geboren. Dies markierte auch den Beginn von The Monsters. Vierzig Jahre später hat sich der Zustand der Musikkultur - oder vielmehr der Welt im Allgemeinen - wohl eher verschlechtert. Individuelles Denken und Schaffen sind nach wie vor nicht sonderlich anerkannt oder gar erwünscht (Hey KI!). Im März 2026 blieb der Band also nichts anderes übrig, als ihre Instrumente, das Aufnahme-Equipment und ihre Ideen in den Proberaum zu verfrachten. Sie verbrachten einen Monat mit Robert Butler (u. a. The Miracle Workers) und seinem mobilen "Two Cent Recording Studio". Sie schrieben Texte (insgesamt etwa 100 Wörter - mal sinnvoll, mal unsinnig, über das ganze Album verstreut), tüftelten am Sound und nahmen Gitarren in allen erdenklichen Variationen auf. Das Ganze wurde gewürzt mit Percussion, Schlagzeug, Bass sowie obskuren Orgeln und Synthesizern, die sie auf Flohmärkten oder in den Kellern von Freunden aufgetrieben hatten. Nach diesem vierwöchigen Trip schickten sie das gesamte Chaos an Jim Diamond (Ghetto Recorders Studios in Detroit, Dirtbombs, White Stripes, Gories, André Williams... klar, worum es geht, ne?!), um es einem umwerfenden Mix-Abenteuer zu unterziehen. Das Ergebnis ist ein Dutzend Songs ohne Kompromisse, Schwächen oder Stärken. Einfach nur roher, ungeschliffener Lo-Fi-Garage-Punk'n'Roll voller Energie - und das mit vierzig Jahren "Nicht-Erfahrung". Erhältlich sind schwarzes Vinyl und eine pinke Picture-Disc (beide mit Insert & DLC), eine höchst audiophile CD sowie Kassette, die bei doppelter Geschwindigkeit leiert! Für Fans von Reverend Beat-Man, VRR, The Mummies, Oblivians, Billy Childish, Damaged Goods, Monks, very early Hives, Garagepunk, Lo-Fi-Roll, Alternative Beat

Die Welt war nie bereit für The Monsters, und The Monsters waren nie bereit für diese Welt. Nach vierzig Jahren, in denen sie zu einem echten Monster aus Fleisch und Blut herangereift sind, präsentieren sie ihr neuntes Album: gut ein Dutzend kompromissloser, wilder, lärmiger und fuzz-geladener Tracks. Ein Mix aus Ein-Riff-Beat, Trash, Garage, "Bern Metal", Boogie, Punk und Grunge - Songs, die einen von innen nach außen stülpen, aufgenommen mit "Miracle" Robert "Worker" Butler und abgemischt von Jim "Dirtbomb" Diamond - ein echtes Garage-Punk-Dreamteam. Vor vierzig Jahren, 1986, war die Jugendkultur-Revolution in Bern (Schweiz) in vollem Gange, Jugendliche und junge Erwachsene wollten sich aus den konservativen Fesseln befreien. Die Straßen brannten, Clubs entstanden und eine neue Schweizer Musikkultur wurde geboren. Dies markierte auch den Beginn von The Monsters. Vierzig Jahre später hat sich der Zustand der Musikkultur - oder vielmehr der Welt im Allgemeinen - wohl eher verschlechtert. Individuelles Denken und Schaffen sind nach wie vor nicht sonderlich anerkannt oder gar erwünscht (Hey KI!). Im März 2026 blieb der Band also nichts anderes übrig, als ihre Instrumente, das Aufnahme-Equipment und ihre Ideen in den Proberaum zu verfrachten. Sie verbrachten einen Monat mit Robert Butler (u. a. The Miracle Workers) und seinem mobilen "Two Cent Recording Studio". Sie schrieben Texte (insgesamt etwa 100 Wörter - mal sinnvoll, mal unsinnig, über das ganze Album verstreut), tüftelten am Sound und nahmen Gitarren in allen erdenklichen Variationen auf. Das Ganze wurde gewürzt mit Percussion, Schlagzeug, Bass sowie obskuren Orgeln und Synthesizern, die sie auf Flohmärkten oder in den Kellern von Freunden aufgetrieben hatten. Nach diesem vierwöchigen Trip schickten sie das gesamte Chaos an Jim Diamond (Ghetto Recorders Studios in Detroit, Dirtbombs, White Stripes, Gories, André Williams... klar, worum es geht, ne?!), um es einem umwerfenden Mix-Abenteuer zu unterziehen. Das Ergebnis ist ein Dutzend Songs ohne Kompromisse, Schwächen oder Stärken. Einfach nur roher, ungeschliffener Lo-Fi-Garage-Punk'n'Roll voller Energie - und das mit vierzig Jahren "Nicht-Erfahrung". Erhältlich sind schwarzes Vinyl und eine pinke Picture-Disc (beide mit Insert & DLC), eine höchst audiophile CD sowie Kassette, die bei doppelter Geschwindigkeit leiert! Für Fans von Reverend Beat-Man, VRR, The Mummies, Oblivians, Billy Childish, Damaged Goods, Monks, very early Hives, Garagepunk, Lo-Fi-Roll, Alternative Beat

Manfredi and Marijn met for a studio retreat in Paris and quickly found common ground in their love for synthesizers, strange vocals, punk, leftfield electronics and music that doesn't necessarily fit into one box.

In the early '90s, Manfredi joined Wide Records in Pisa, becoming part of a post-punk and DIY network that stretched from Fugazi and The Make-Up to Coil, Clock DVA and early Nine Inch Nails, while spending time on the road tour managing bands across Europe.

Marijn grew up in a completely different generation, but has always had an old soul when it comes to making music. He's drawn to old machines, unconventional sounds and records made long before he ever entered a studio himself. The weirder the vocal or synthesizer, the better. credits

Renowned London producer, DJ, and Apron Records founder Steven Julien taps into his alter-ego with his new album, 808 PRINCE out 16th October.

Written and produced around iconic drum machines, 808 Prince embraces raw drum programming,
analogue textures, and bass-heavy compositions.The record moves fluidly between peak-time club energy and experimental rhythm studies, exploring the shared languages of techno, house, acid house, grime, and electro. Rather than looking back, the album reimagines the influence of the 808 through Julien’s distinct production style, creating a body of work that is both timeless and forward-looking.

The album features a strong lineup of collaborators, including James Massiah, J. Caesar, Jarren, Touch Sensitive, and KIAH, expanding Julien’s sonic universe while remaining anchored in pure groove and movement. More than an album, 808 PRINCE marks a new chapter in Steven Julien’s artistic practice, bringing together decades of club music influence, hands-on studio craftsmanship, and a lifelong fascination with rhythm into a singular statement designed for dance floors worldwide.

Discrepant presents Fantarombo, a new album by Giovanni Lami.

While his previous works often moved through memory, residue, degradation, and dialogue with existing materials, Fantarombo takes shape as an unstable, bodily gesture.

Sound is not recalled or reconstructed, but triggered, pushed, and set in motion as an active force. Lami approaches modular synthesis as a physical, hands-on practice rather than a technical exercise or display of system mastery. The modular setup becomes a responsive body: something to be nudged, listened to, and occasionally resisted.

The pieces unfold through slow accumulations, unstable feedback paths, and carefully misaligned sequences. Rather than driving toward resolution, the music lingers in states of suspension, allowing small shifts in voltage, timing, and texture to reshape the whole. Chance and duration play a central role, with structure emerging gradually from repetition and drift.

There is an unmistakably organic quality to the sound: porous, tactile, and quietly resonant. A sensitivity to space, grain, and micro-movement, where subtle changes carry as much weight as overt gestures. On Fantarombo, process takes precedence over control, and the circuitry is allowed to speak back, resulting in music that feels intimate, unstable, and quietly insistent, revealing itself slowly through sustained attention.

A music of unresolved behaviours, suspended somewhere between obsolete digital optimism, imaginary systems and malfunctioning computational folklore.

4 more reworks from the crates of JUNIOR SANCHEZ. Massive hits from DRIZZY, RIRI, CVRCHES, and BEY get the JUNEBUG floor filling, hands-in-the-air treatment.