Suche:the it

Following the first chapter of Connessioni, Danza Tribale unveils Connessioni II, the final movement in Tamburi Neri’s two-part sonic exploration of connection, vibration, and ritual.
If the first EP traced the invisible threads between body, city, and earth, Connessioni II is where those threads tighten and transform. It is no longer the search-it is the meeting point. Nature, metropolis, and digital spirituality no longer call to one another from afar; they converge..

Oven Sound presents Alexis Cabrera.
The label of the renowned Valencian club welcomes the Argentina-born artist, now based in Spain, to the family.
After passing the acid test on the dance floors of festivals and clubs around the world, these 4 tracks are set to become essentials in your record bag.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

Cut The With The Cake Knife was recorded by Rose McDowall in 1988/89 following the break up of her group Strawberry Switchblade. Produced with the aid of several musicians in several studios, the album features songs written for the fabled second Strawberry Switchblade album. More importantly perhaps it showcases the honest, direct and life-affirming songs of one of the greatest unsung songwriters of the modern pop era at a tumultuous time in her career.

Tibet opens the set and could be one of the best pop songs you've never heard. The innate sadness of the songs' content - the loss of a friendship, impending sorrow - is heightened to heart-melting level by McDowall's pop nous and melodic sensibility. Choruses and hooks are everywhere on Cake Knife, from the outsider take on stadium 80s pop in Wings Of Heaven to the spiraling, ecstatic So Vicious, a glorious anthem that highlights the human fragility in McDowall's vocal performance, an instrument that has never lost the naïve purity it first exemplified in Strawberry Switchblade's early 80s recordings. The centerpiece of the album, the title-track, is the greatest Switchblade pop chart hit that never was. Like the veiled melancholy of her former group's hits, Cut With The Cake Knife hints at a darkness beneath the gloss, a darkness that saw McDowall delve into more esoteric territory with her subsequent recordings and collaborations. Cut With The Cake Knife serves as the bridge between the pop music McDowall had been making with her friends Jill Bryson, Lawrence from Felt and Primal Scream to what became a more extreme, deep sound informed by neo-folk and post industrial music.

Rose McDowall's role in the canon has always been one of an outsider. Beginning in Glasgow's East End in the avant proto-noise group The Poems, achieving fame briefly in the 80s and then disappearing into counter-cultural folklore, the emphasis in the internet-age has been skewed towards her image and cultural significance. Unseen to many, her solo work, her groups Sorrow and Spell and her collaborations with a whole host of underground luminaries have still touched lives. As McDowall elucidates: 'They're real sad songs, about real life. I've had people come up to me to say I'd connected with them and helped them. I remember a gig in America when we made a whole room cry. It was bizarre. A couple at the front of the stage started crying and then these two boys beside and suddenly everyone was crying. And I thought, "that's power."

Night School's issue of Cut With The Cake Knife includes unpublished photographs, extensive sleeve notes from Rose McDowall and 2 bonus tracks culled from the bootleg 7' 'Don't Fear The Reaper.' First vinyl pressing is Clear w/ Black swirl; 500 only / has DL card and booklet, with a poster
CD has extensive booklet and is packaged in anO-Card.

Atkinson first saw Les yeux sans visage when she was a teenager, around the turn of the century. The film made an impact for its iconic imagery and the way Franju draws on the aesthetics of early filmmaking, from its score that relies on stylistic markers typical of the 1940s or 50s to the decision to shoot in black and white. Even four decades after its first release, it was clear that this was a work that stood outside of the cultural moment that birthed it, speaking through time in ways that were uncanny, but profound.

A quarter-century later, Atkinson was approached by the Belgian cultural center VIERNULVIER to create a new score for Les yeux sans visage for its celebrated Videodroom series, which has seen artists like claire rousay, Mabe Fratti, Lee Renaldo, and many more create new original scores for cult classics and genre cinema. Atkinson's music, with its sublime meditations on space and proximity, its elusive sense of narrative development, mirrors the pacing and mystery at the heart of horror filmmaking. There is a shadow at the heart of her soundtrack to Les yeux sans visage, an ever-shifting wisp and an insinuation of encroaching transfiguration. Echoing a climactic moment in the film, the music obliquely points to "the Beyond," an impossible place of discovery and revelation.

Atkinson envisioned her music as something akin to the air moving throughout and beyond the many cages that appear in the film, unconstrained by the bars and with undefined borders. Those cages hold the victims of a madman surgeon, determined to graft a new face onto his daughter, the protagonist Christiane Génessier, who lost hers in a car accident while he was behind the wheel. Atkinson was reminded of her predecessors at the pioneering French studio the GRM, who approached sound in a less sinister, but similarly surgical manner, and took inspiration from their playful approach to cerebral soundmaking for the electroacoustic topography into which the piano is embedded. As such, Atkinson’s reactions to the larger themes and the minute-by-minute happenings onscreen are both audible simultaneously.

A film about a man who destroys the lives of young women marked by their beauty and similarity to his daughter in a shame-fueled rage has clear, continuous cultural resonance. "Through the music, I decided to bring back their empowerment despite what they endure," says Atkinson. "This is why the record is also dedicated to Gisèle Pelicot, whose trial happened while I was in the process of composing the music and kept thinking of her strength and her decision to share her trial in order to reverse the shame."

This recorded version of the soundtrack is a 34-minute synthesis of the full 90-minute score, presented on LP along with an essay by writer-musician Claire Cronin and drawings by Momo Gordon, together forming a complex reflection on the film's themes. If these sounds move as if the bars of cages are no barrier, they also intimate the freedom and power of those held behind them. Rather than simply mirroring the fear and confinement shown onscreen, Atkinson offers an elusive escape, a beacon for the characters, and the listener, to follow as they reckon with the narrative and move through it.

Newly signed to indie heavyweights Heist or Hit (Westside Cowboy, Her’s) EP two: ‘Marionette’ has been produced by Daniel Fox (Sprints, Melts, Psychotic Monks, Naked Lungs, Nerves, Ronan Group) and it’s set to be seminal. A set text for future musicians with aspirations of innovation. “The theme of the marionette is present throughout each song, involving some aspect of a power struggle and a lack of control within oneself.” Opener ‘Chocolate’ bounces in on a synth line as slippery and hyperactive as anything Aphex Twin ever cooked up. Crispy offbeat electronic cymbals play counterpoint to atonal guitars and pugilistic drumming before the track dry-wretches its way into a nauseating cacophony of euphoria. It’s a tale of crippling social anxiety and a preference for an unflattering, lonely reality. The muted guitar pluck in the intro to ‘Crows’ is the sonic equivalent of biting one’s nails. An anxious, involuntary tic that speaks to the theme of guilt, especially surrounding digital culture: “children can watch what they please, just with viewer discretion.” The track lurches between textures, weaving themselves in and out of focus. Guitars blare like sirens, interrupting paranoid urban centres at 2am, while the bass sounds like the inside of an insomniac’s head on day four of a REM drought.

The metallic intent of ‘Discipline’ squats on the chest as though Steve Albini is your sleep paralysis demon. The pain of accountability spews from the industrial regularity of the beat, apt to the narrative of a soldier coming to terms with the lies that made him commit atrocious, violent acts. EP closer ‘Servant’ starts like a Spectrum loading screen. Dial-up modem-coded, it pauses for moments of white-noise-vomit and existential bloops. Fitting for a more abstract take on the idea of the power struggle filtered through religious imagery and self-awareness of one’s own actions, coupled with an inability to exert control over them. The band pile on the textures with sadistic glee until the evil is exorcized and the modem melts. Connection severed. Across the EP, vocalist Joseph has a tendency to hyper-fixate on themes of control and unhappiness. Creating rooms in which doom and isolation ricochet. Not that it’s all bad news “we like to think that by shedding light on the negative, it commands a sense of hope.” Influenced as much by the liminal-space horror and uncanny dread of Silent Hill as the existentialist theatre of The Twilight Zone or the absurdity of Twin Peaks, they occupy a space between unease and impulse. Makeshift Art Bar are not a band interested in being liked. They’re a band interested in being necessary. There’s so much eating and drinking in their work that multiple listens simply don’t satisfy; something new reveals itself on each return visit. Audacious. Idiosyncratic. Vital. A young band carrying identity, defiance and an uncompromising vision as if it isn’t a rare cargo.

Newly signed to indie heavyweights Heist or Hit (Westside Cowboy, Her’s) EP two: ‘Marionette’ has been produced by Daniel Fox (Sprints, Melts, Psychotic Monks, Naked Lungs, Nerves, Ronan Group) and it’s set to be seminal. A set text for future musicians with aspirations of innovation. “The theme of the marionette is present throughout each song, involving some aspect of a power struggle and a lack of control within oneself.” Opener ‘Chocolate’ bounces in on a synth line as slippery and hyperactive as anything Aphex Twin ever cooked up. Crispy offbeat electronic cymbals play counterpoint to atonal guitars and pugilistic drumming before the track dry-wretches its way into a nauseating cacophony of euphoria. It’s a tale of crippling social anxiety and a preference for an unflattering, lonely reality. The muted guitar pluck in the intro to ‘Crows’ is the sonic equivalent of biting one’s nails. An anxious, involuntary tic that speaks to the theme of guilt, especially surrounding digital culture: “children can watch what they please, just with viewer discretion.” The track lurches between textures, weaving themselves in and out of focus. Guitars blare like sirens, interrupting paranoid urban centres at 2am, while the bass sounds like the inside of an insomniac’s head on day four of a REM drought.

The metallic intent of ‘Discipline’ squats on the chest as though Steve Albini is your sleep paralysis demon. The pain of accountability spews from the industrial regularity of the beat, apt to the narrative of a soldier coming to terms with the lies that made him commit atrocious, violent acts. EP closer ‘Servant’ starts like a Spectrum loading screen. Dial-up modem-coded, it pauses for moments of white-noise-vomit and existential bloops. Fitting for a more abstract take on the idea of the power struggle filtered through religious imagery and self-awareness of one’s own actions, coupled with an inability to exert control over them. The band pile on the textures with sadistic glee until the evil is exorcized and the modem melts. Connection severed. Across the EP, vocalist Joseph has a tendency to hyper-fixate on themes of control and unhappiness. Creating rooms in which doom and isolation ricochet. Not that it’s all bad news “we like to think that by shedding light on the negative, it commands a sense of hope.” Influenced as much by the liminal-space horror and uncanny dread of Silent Hill as the existentialist theatre of The Twilight Zone or the absurdity of Twin Peaks, they occupy a space between unease and impulse. Makeshift Art Bar are not a band interested in being liked. They’re a band interested in being necessary. There’s so much eating and drinking in their work that multiple listens simply don’t satisfy; something new reveals itself on each return visit. Audacious. Idiosyncratic. Vital. A young band carrying identity, defiance and an uncompromising vision as if it isn’t a rare cargo.

Downtown Boys have pushed relentlessly forward as an artistic and political project since their founding. Singer Victoria Marie and guitarist/singer Joey La Neve DeFrancesco first met at union meetings while working together at a hotel in Providence, RI, writing many of the band's early songs about labor organizing and exploitative workplaces. The quintet is completed by Joe DeGeorge (sax/synth), Mary Jane Regalado (bass), and Joey Doubek (drums). Over years of touring, and three acclaimed albums, Downtown Boys have continued to grow as artists, musicians, and organizers. Now, the band has arrived with Public Luxury, an enthralling album that keeps politics front and center while summoning the band's most urgent and powerful sound to date. The definition of Public Luxury falls very much in line with that of the title of the second Downtown Boys LP, Full Communism. Straight up, Public Luxury means, "everything for everyone." It's the stubborn insistence that a better world is possible, while fully recognizing the horrors we witness daily, and the individual and collective responsibility to resist the nihilism and hopelessness we all feel. Sentiments like "everything for everyone," and "we will have it all" perfectly represent the cathartic, communal live experience this cadre of multi-instrumentalists create. These sentiments also encapsulate the inclusive, joyful sonic fusion that defines the album: anthemic punk and indie rock mix with Latin traditions, drum machines blend with acoustic drums, saxophones punctuate riffs, and layers of synths add flourishes from new-wave to industrial. The amount of ground covered on Public Luxury can't be overstated, and yet the album feels totally vital and cohesive. Public Luxury is a revisitation of the band's past for the sake of their future. It was co-produced by DeFrancesco with recording engineer and longtime Downtown Boys supporter Seth Manchester (Lambrini Girls, Lightning Bolt, Model/Actriz) at the Pawtucket, RI studio and arts space Machines With Magnets, not far from the band's first home of Providence, RI. Victoria Marie's grandmother-a monumental figure for the band throughout their existence-passed away in May of 2025, and her influence looms large over the album; the songs "No Me Jodas" and "Sirena" are crystallized representations of the love between a woman and her ancestor. Beyond the loss, rage and frustration of the present, Public Luxury points boldly towards a vibrant, open-hearted vision of both music and the world: "Our music is simply for anyone and everyone who believes in the new future we can make together," Victoria Marie declares. "A world that will be awkward, inconsistent, yet truly free when it comes to all that matters."

Laid Back in Top Form: New Music Flowing After 47 Years
After 47 years together, the iconic Danish duo Laid Back continue to defy expectations, entering a new and remarkably productive creative phase.
Their upcoming album, Born to Fly, captures their unmistakable sound while showcasing a renewed sense of energy and inspiration

“We feel like we are meant to make music. And when we play music, it feels like we’re flying,” says John Guldberg, reflecting on the album’s title and spirit.

Long known for their unhurried approach to releasing music, Laid Back now find themselves in unfamiliar territory. Guldberg describes a surge in creativity that has
turned their process on its head.
“It’s kind of funny — Laid Back has always taken its time making records. We’ve been behind schedule for most of our career. Now it’s the opposite:
I’m actually starting to worry about whether I’ll have time to release everything I’ve got in me,” he says.

Their current workflow reflects this momentum. Guldberg develops initial ideas,which he shares with Tim Stahl, who then brings them to life with vocals and instrumentation.
“When he sends me something and I start singing and playing on it, that’s when it really becomes Laid Back,” says Stahl.

The duo’s creative output has accelerated to such an extent that even ahead of the release of Born to Fly, they already have enough material prepared for more than a double album for their next project.

“It’s about making the most of the time you have left. I used to feel there was plenty of time and no need to rush. Now time feels much more valuable,” Guldberg adds
.
Alongside their creative resurgence, Laid Back are also seeing a shift in their audience demographics. Streaming data and live performances indicate a growing younger fanbase — a development that has taken the duo by surprise.
“I’m really looking forward to getting back out on stage. We still have the urge to perform, and we love making people happy. That’s what our music is for,” says Stahl.
Born to Fly is set for release across CD, vinyl, and digital formats. Laid Back will also perform in selected cities across Europe later this year 2026.

“We hope people can hear that we’ve grown — and that it still makes sense for us to make new music,” says Guldberg.

dgoHn (pronounced “John") is the moniker of John Cunnane, who hails from somewhere between London and Essex. ‘Tessares,’ his fourth album but his first for Planet Mu, is playful, unconventional drum & bass that contrasts sparse effects and melodic elements with complex drumfunk and breakcore. He often uses unusual time signatures and head-spinning polyrhythms inspired by jazz and math rock, sometimes within the same track. Somehow he makes it sound effortless, and occasionally pretty as well, keeping a fine balance that never feels punishing; exploratory without getting lost.

He's built a name for himself over the last two decades performing live at festivals and events around the world, while collaborating with fellow artists such as Macc, Nic TVG, Jodey Kendrick and Badun as well as solo releases.


The album opens with ‘Waiting For’ which combines complex breaks with melodic fills, spacey effects and dubbed out vocals that feel like snatches of lost conversations - a combination he uses throughout the album giving it an eerie touch of humanity. Lead single ‘I Couldn't Remember So I Made Something Up’ is in 15/8 time. It feels like a conventional melodic drum & bass track, but the time signature disrupts the listeners’ expectations, while the detuned melody eases its sense of dislocation. ’Whistling On A Tuesday’ opens with a light echoey piano countdown into bass stabs which introduce heavy whirling amen breakbeats that switch between 180 and 120 bpm. ’Holly Can Swim But She Doesn’t Really Like It’ is the most rhythmically challenging track here. It feels hard to hang on to as its knotty breaks play out over bell chimes, like something Autechre might make if jungle was in their DNA. The album ends on the dubbed-out drumfunk of ‘7 Years Or More,’ with an arrangement that builds a filmic, dusty atmosphere of chimes and electric guitar, layering in vocals, vinyl crackle and echoing synth giving way to tough drums, before all that is taken away so that just a voice remains.

The arrival of REAL, Vol. 1 marks a seismic shift in the global music landscape, uniting two of Nigeria’s most formidable forces for a project that defines the current zenith of Afrobeats. This collaborative effort sees Wizkid, the smooth-talking pioneer of the genre’s international expansion, and Asake, the "Mr. Money" whose neo-Fuji sound redefined the street-pop aesthetic, finding a middle ground between luxury and grit. The project serves as a sonic bridge between eras, blending the minimalist, high-fashion sensibilities of Wizkid’s recent output with the high-octane, choir-backed energy that has made Asake a household name. It is less of a competition and more of a conversation between two masters of their craft, exploring themes of spiritual gratitude, the weight of superstardom, and the unyielding pulse of Lagos.

With soundscapes both cinematic and deeply rhythmic, the production moves beyond standard club formulas, opting instead for a sophisticated fusion of traditional Yoruba percussion, shimmering synths, and the heavy, resonant log drums of Amapiano. Wizkid provides the effortless, melodic swagger that acts as the project's anchor, while Asake injects a spiritual intensity through his signature layered chanting and rapid-fire flows.

Ultimately, REAL, Vol. 1 is a celebration of authenticity in an era of global crossover. By stripping away the pressure of conforming to Western pop standards, Wizkid and Asake have created a body of work that is unapologetically Nigerian yet universally resonant. It captures the spirit of a city that never sleeps and the ambition of two artists who have conquered the world without losing their souls. This is more than just a collection of hits; it is a blueprint for the future of African music, proving that when Wizkid and Asake occupy the same frequency, the result is nothing short of legendary.

Gorizont Sobytiy (Event Horizon), the duo of veteran electronic musician Nocow and his wife, DJ Designer, mark the project's debut with an album worth of material of 'frogg-step' / Pankratov Step. It's safe to say this is an intriguing proposition for even those well-initiated into the world of the contemporary Russian underground. What is perhaps most immediately obvious across the 11 tracks is a clear appreciation for golden-era Rephlex records, as if the duo are reflecting on how the iconic label was perceived in the Eastern bloc at the time. There's a nostalgic touch tugging at the heart strings with the warm ambient tones of 'Bananoivy Twist' or even the ballroom-esque organ melodies of follow up 'Chacha', both swiftly followed by a switch back into frantic gabber style kicks that recur across the album.

To give a little more away in terms of a background story, Nocow and DJ Designer draw influence from a film called Winter Evening in Gagra, a somewhat distant feeling artefact of late-Soviet cinema about a tap dancing champion's late nights spent gallivanting across the glitz of Moscow's pop music scene in the 1980s. Maximalist in its sound design, Pankratov Step draws its name from actor-protagonist Pankratov, not quite an out-of-time soundtrack as such but at the least a wry nod to the former world in which the film takes place. The cascading, brittle synthesis of 'Cemetry's Boss' forms an icy cinematic fusion again with a gabber influence at play whilst a fierce acid line works alongside myriad glitch rhythms and repeating keys on 'Octopus Werk'. Influenced by the local humour and sentimentality surrounding the film, a melodrama with themes of lost art and a kind of old-world transcendence the young circus performer yearns for, the duo use it as a vessel to describe the projects sound - a coalescing of vintage Soviet soundtracks, early IDM, Jake Slazenger and Expert Knob Twiddlers album. 'Pankratov-Step' becoming their own fictional genre. The LP marks another avant-garde chapter in Nocow's long back catalogue, as well as a fully formed collaborative debut for the currently enigmatic DJ Designer. Pankratov Step is the second release on GOST ZVUK sub-label MEMONT, curated by Kuzma Palkin.

‘Cécile McLorin Salvant ... sings standards, show tunes and old novelties in a taut, flinty, elusively beautiful voice, erring toward material with difficult lyrics and tough places in history. Salvant wins over her audiences by tweaking them slightly: daring them to go there with her—not just into the archive, but toward the darkness of the past.’ – New York Times

‘Although Salvant is known as a jazz musician, her approach to music is defined by her instinct for experimentation ... Her music is beloved for ... embracing theatre and subverting classics with playful renditions.’ – Guardian

Salvant, who has performed with orchestras regularly over the last decade-and-a-half and intended to make an album with one sooner in her career, but logistics and her abundant creative ideas led to other new projects intervening. Having finally found time to make this album, With Every Breath I Take is a different sort of record than it might have been even ten years ago.

“It is a rare opportunity to be able to make an album at this scale, which has been a dream of mine for many years,” Salvant says. “Darcy James Argue wrote stunning arrangements and the Metropole Orkest, conducted by the extraordinary Jules Buckley, gave these stories a cinematic dimension. We overcame quite a few obstacles to even get into the recording studio for this project; it took almost four years for us to do so, and I am so incredibly proud to share it.

“I did not choose these songs because they are beautiful, but because they are crucial to me,” she adds.

Cécile McLorin Salvant, a 2020 MacArthur Fellow and three-time Grammy Award winner, is a singer and composer bringing historical perspective, a renewed sense of drama, and an enlightened musical understanding to both jazz standards and her own original compositions. Classically trained, steeped in jazz, blues, and folk, and drawing from musical theater and vaudeville, Salvant embraces a wide-ranging repertoire that broadens the possibilities for live performance.

Salvant’s performances range from spare duets for voice and piano to instrumental trios to orchestral ensembles. Her unreleased work Ogresse is an ambitious long-form musical fairy tale that is being made into a feature length animated film. She has performed at national and international venues and festivals such as the Newport Jazz Festival, the Monterey Jazz Festival, the Village Vanguard, and the North Sea Jazz Festival. Her previous Nonesuch albums, Ghost Song (2022) Mélusine (2023), and Oh Snap (2025) received critical accolades; the former two were both nominated for Grammy Awards. Salvant is also a visual artist, and Oh Snap was named a best album of 2025 by the Guardian, Jazzwise, JazzTimes, and the Francis Davis Jazz Critics Poll.

Mr Bongo are thrilled to have one of the leading lights in contemporary soul joining the label. Melbourne-based vocalist, musician, and songwriter Ella Thompson is an artist whose name is being championed by some of the best in the business. She’s been building a reputation as one to watch, with two standout releases on Hopestreet Recordings, Domino EP in 2023 and Ripple On The Wing LP in 2024, alongside a heavy touring schedule and a stacked list of support slots and collaborations.

For this new 7” single, Ella collaborates with a selection of artists at the forefront of Naarm/Melbourne’s soulful DIY community. Featuring members of Surprise Chef and Karate Boogaloo, Liam McGorry from Temporary Blessings (College Of Knowledge) joins Ella as co-writer and co-producer, with go-to Melbourne engineer Henry Jenkins also producing and recording the track.

Bridging the worlds of classic and contemporary soul, Ella’s songwriting is drenched in emotion and personal experience. With a timeless feel that is hard to tie to any particular period, she has crafted a sound that instantly hits deep. It’s warm, tasteful and distinctly Ella. That talent has also seen her tour with Mark Ronson, and support other contemporary greats like Jalen Ngonda, Lee Fields, and Thee Sacred Souls.

‘Promise To Keep’ is the first taste of Ella’s new material on this 7” single. An irrepressible upbeat groover that echoes mid-to-late-sixties vocal groups. That influence though never overpowers Ella’s own unique creative voice or distinct sense of self. She draws from it, but the colour is all her own. The song tells a story of being carried by the current that keeps us moving, giving us courage. A commitment to oneself that speaks to action shaped by vision, and the pull of following what feels correct even when the distance is far.

The flip side finds Ella in a different mood. ‘Change Of Heart’ is a heavy sweet-soul ballad. Rich in drama, Ella’s falsetto vocals build to a stunning climax in the final section, with triumphant horns that signal the release of letting go. The lyrics reflect on temporality and impermanence, and the way moments can be missed or arrive with synchronicity. It’s that bittersweet paradox of triumph and sadness, where everything contains its opposite: absence and presence, innocence and experience. The song is underpinned by a brooding production quality and atmospheric, beat-heavy flavour that Surprise Chef and cinematic soul fans will relish.

Mixed by Wayne Gordon (Daptone, Womack Sisters), ‘Promise to Keep’ and ‘Change of Heart’ are a glimpse of things to come from Ella. Keep an eye open for more new music incoming from this phenomenal artist at the top of her game.

Somewhere between the after-hours haze and the first flicker of sunrise, Nebraska re-emerges - this time with a twist in the signal. Long respected for his deep-cut sensibilities and dancefloor intuition, Ali Gibbs returns to Delusions Of Grandeur not just as Nebraska, but with a handover to his new alias: Dubl Drat. The Alter Alter Ego EP plays like a transmission from both sides of his creative psyche - one rooted in warm, groove-led house and disco mutations, the other drifting deeper into dubbed-out, heady abstraction.

The A-side opens with Alter Alter Ego in its Nebraska OG Mix form - a crunchy, funked-up mid-tempo burner. Chopped Rhodes solos flicker in and out of the mix while a rolling bassline locks into a low-slung groove - equal parts party-starter and late-night dancefloor hypnosis. Next, The Teckel Track slides the tempo down into a proper slo-mo four-on-the-floor bumpy groove. Fat stabs punch through layers of glitchy FX while a melodic bassline snakes underneath, forming a hazy, infectious earworm tailor-made for those early-night mood-setting sessions. Closing the A-side, Olive (Dubl Drat Dub) signals a shift. Here, Gibbs leans fully into his Dubl Drat persona, dissolving structure into a blissed-out dub excursion.

Chopped breaks scatter across the stereo field, chiming melodies echo into the distance, and granulated percussion parts build a dense, immersive landscape - one to get lost in rather than dance through. Flipping over we have Alter Alter Ego (Dubl Drat Remix) which reconfigures the title track into a stripped-back boogie workout. The groove is leaner but no less potent, driven by a killer bassline and punctuated with signature Rhodes licks - pure, understated club pressure. Finally, Olive (Nebraska Version) offers a gentle comedown. This alternate take softens the edges, introducing additional guitar textures that drift into Balearic territory. It’s nostalgic, introspective, and quietly expansive - a closing chapter that lingers long after the last note fades. The Alter Alter Ego EP isn’t just a new release - it’s a dual-state exploration, a conversation between rhythm and space, between Nebraska and Dubl Drat, and marks the last ever Nebraska release as Ali closes the chapter and the alias for the final time.

Curated by Brian d'Souza (aka Auntie Flo), Plants Can Dance is a forthcoming new compilation bringing together a global community of artists, exploring the creative possibilities of biosonification - transforming signals from plants, ecosystems and the natural world into sound. Out June 26th, the project marks the culmination of several years of d'Souza’s work across music, ecology and technology.

The album arrives at a time when more artists are turning toward nature as both subject and collaborator, such as Brian Eno’s Earth Percent, which formally recognises “Nature” as an artist. Plants Can Dance sits within a wider cultural shift, which is redefining the relationship between sound and the living world.

The project builds on several years of work by d'Souza, whose Plants Can Dance events have taken place across the UK, Europe, India and Africa, appearing in institutions including the V&A, Tate and the Design Museum. What began as a series of intimate gatherings has since evolved into a global platform, reflecting a growing appetite for work that reconnects music with the natural world.

The compilation features contributions from leading practitioners including Modern Biology (Tarun Nayar) in collaboration with saxophonist Zekarias Musele Thompson, OMMA (Olga Maximovam founder of Playtronica), Jason Singh, Dr Helen Anahita Wilson, Justin Wiggan in collaboration with celebrated Norwegian jazz musician Arve Henriksen, Lamine Touré, Bit Marten and Balam, alongside new work from d'Souza himself. Using a range of tools - from commercially available devices to bespoke modular systems - artists translate electrical activity, environmental data and organic processes into musical material.

The processes behind each piece differ - from interpreting plant biodata to translating wind patterns into compositional structures - and the results are as varied as they are compelling. The record spans ambient, jazz, electronica and modern classical, yet all pieces are unified by a shared intent: to reimagine music as a space of collaboration between human and more-than-human worlds.

At the core of Plants Can Dance is a question about how we define music, and how we choose to listen. Traditional musical forms, with their fixed tempos and predictable structures, give way here to something more fluid and less easily controlled. The listener is invited to surrender expectation and engage with sound as an evolving environment rather than a linear narrative. In this context, the compositions function as what d'Souza describes as “acoustic ecologies” - sonic systems shaped by biological, environmental and elemental forces unfolding in real time.

Accompanying the release is a printed zine offering reflections from each artist, and deeper insight into the ideas and debates surrounding this practice. Rather than presenting definitive answers, Plants Can Dance positions itself as an artistic exploration grounded in curiosity, experimentation and critical thought.

Ultimately, Plants Can Dance is less concerned with proving whether plants “make music” than with changing how we listen. By inviting audiences to engage with sound shaped by non-humans, it opens up new ways of perceiving the environments we inhabit - not as passive backdrops, but as active, dynamic participants in a shared ecological network. In doing so, it offers a quietly radical proposition: that by listening differently, we might begin to relate to the natural world differently too.

Few artists can make chaos sound this fun. Steel Beans, the self-titled album from the genre-bending one-man band, is a wild ride through rock, funk, jazz, and whatever else happens to cross the radar of Everett, WA’s Jeremy DeBardi — the multi-instrumentalist and mad scientist behind it all. Known for his jaw-dropping live performances where he sings, shreds guitar, and drums at the same time, Steel Beans brings that same unfiltered energy to tape, capturing the spirit of a garage jam gone cosmic.

The album moves effortlessly from fuzzed-out psych-rock to greasy funk breakdowns and tongue-in-cheek lyricism, mixing humor and virtuosity in equal measure. It’s unpredictable, unpolished in all the right ways, and full of personality — the kind of record that feels alive because it’s never trying to be perfect. Steel Beans isn’t just an album; it’s a reminder that music can still be weird, raw, fun, and ridiculously entertaining. Whether you’re hearing him for the first time or you’ve already seen the madness live, this album is the perfect introduction to the wild world of Steel Beans.

Disco Segreta proudly presents the reissue of one of the most elusive and sought-after gems of underground italo disco, Govindo’s “Ou Ka Vini Com Moin”.

Originally released in 1983 on the obscure “Gala” label and quickly withdrawn from the market, this hypnotic, space-tinged cosmic italo disco bomb remained virtually unknown outside a small circle of hard core italo disco collectors — until now.

Wriitten by Mario Baldoni aka Miro and recorded during a journey across the French Antilles, the track was laid down in Fort-de-France, Martinique, capturing a unique cultural and musical intersection. Its title comes from a typical Martinican Creole expression—”U Ka Vini Co Muè”—meaning “C’mon, come with me.”

The track’s lush arrangement, crafted by Gregorio “Greg” Puccio, is a quintessential snapshot of analog italo disco at its finest: Roland Juno 60, JX-3P, Korg PolySix / Poly800, and LinnDrum LM-1 create a dreamlike, deeply atmospheric soundscape.

For the first time, this edition presents the original 12” full-length versions (vocal/instrumental), alongside the shorter 7” vocal version, remastered directly from the actual analog master tapes, plus two new remixes: the Marcello Giordani Hypnomix – a future electro synth classic from one of Italy’s finest producers and the Miro’s Fort de France Sunset – a balearic downbeat contemporary reinterpretation by the original artist 42 years after.