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In 2047, amidst the deafening yet oh-so-familiar soundscape of the Movement Festival in Detroit, we met again: I, pdqb, and Scape One, known as two of the most respected electronic music composers worldwide. The air pulsed not only with the latest beats but also with a barely perceptible energy only the two of us knew. We hadn't simply flown in; we'd arrived with our fantastic "Diskmind" time-travel machine, an incredible invention, capable of effortlessly catapulting us through the centuries.

"It's unbelievable, isn't it?" I shouted over the bass, eyebrows raised. "A machine that lets us travel through all of history, and there isn't a single song that honors it! Not one!"
Scape One nodded vigorously, his gaze sweeping over the stage lights. "That's absurd! How can such a revolutionary invention remain unsung? It's almost an insult to music history itself."
We looked at each other, a silent understanding in our gazes. The mission was clear: The "Diskmind" needed its anthems. And who, if not us, who used and loved it, should create them?

And so, we decided to become the musical chroniclers of the "Diskmind," ready to tell the story of our time machine across four different eras...

For Synaptic Cliffs, it's an extraordinary honor to present these three Scape One variations of the original song 'Diskmind' (first released on The Electrifying Dojo, 2025). Each masterpiece was recorded in different future decades of the 21st century (of ourse with the help of the Diskmind time travel machine) and reflects the corresponding trend in electronic music. A1: A timeless, pristine Electro composition from the year 2035. A2: An IDM marvel from late summer 2075, recorded in the Zero gravity of Space Station 775. B: An Experimental Electronica symphony recorded at pdqb's Studio 577 on Mars Outpost 47A. Only musical equipment that doesn't currently exist was used for this release

Soundtrack work suits Thomas Dolby, who here turns in a variety of musical settings for a
computer animation video that include everything from moody electronic instrumentals and dance tracks to a ‘30s pop pastiche complete with horn section. Five of the nine tracks have vocals, two of which are contributed by Dr. Fiorella Terenzi. Dolby himself sings, raps. The Gate to the Mind’s Eye demonstrates Dolby’s continuing inventiveness.

Not quite as quirky as the Wireless album, not as moody as Flat Earth, not as wacky as Aliens Ate My Buick, but it has Dolby written all over it.

The Gate To The Mind’s Eye is for the first time available on vinyl as a limited edition of 750 individually numbered copies on silver coloured vinyl and contains an insert.

Evolving from my earlier sample-based works, the Nothingburger EP is a pair of emotionally and
sonically dense songs, where layer upon layer of live instrumentation build a heartsick wall of
sound. Called in friends from NYC to reinterpret the tracks, ambient dub group Purelink and
shoegaze kings Hotline TNT.

An adversarial network of ideas, electronic post-punk trio The Wants welcome the possibility that embracing friction can give rise to something cathartic and unexpected. Formed by Madison Velding- VanDam and Jason Gates in 2017, and with the addition of Yasmeen Night in 2021, The Wants' sound is defined by the push and pull of its members' processes: floating rhythms upheaving grounded songwriting, pulsing synths overwhelming live instrumentation. Their new record, Bastard, is an evolution of many of the seeds planted in their debut record, Container (2020), with a refined sense of acerbic emotional urgency and sonic experimentation. Drawing from a deep well of influences across decades and genres, The Wants forge an unlikely alliance of sounds that feels both radical and inevitable. Velding- VanDam channels both the raw power and snark of Public Image Ltd. and The Smiths' romance, while Gates draws intensity from bands like Bauhaus and Throbbing Gristle, and inspiration from experimental techno. Night's sound bridges inspiration from '90s alternative rock like Smashing Pumpkins and Garbage between the nocturnal trip-hop atmosphere of Massive Attack. The result sits in its own category—too raw to be pure electronic music, too mechanised to be straight rock— drawing favorable comparisons to early PIL and contemporaries like Model/Actriz while remaining distinctly their own beast.

Here it is.. the final chapter from Orbital Mechanics! Founded by Sound Synthesis and JDSK back in 2021 and what a journey it has been. To finish in a nice way the 10th and final chapter is a double 12". Thanks for the support, transmission out...The End

Between The Seed And The Timber is a cycle of six songs exploring ritual and mystical aspects of the modern era. At times both noir and psychedelic, they evoke a strong sense of nostalgia for a disappearing age. In contrast to industrial music’s dystopian semiotics, Jas Shaw challenges us to hear sounds inspired by machinery, electricity and mechanisation in a new light.

“I made the synth parts for a Swans gig,” says Shaw. “As SMD we’d supported Swans. James was away doing some production but I didn’t want to pass it up, so I offered to open solo. It turned out the gig was sooner than expected so I made all these synth things to do live.”

Shaw put the tracks to one side and forgot about them, only returning to them years later. “You know when you’ve changed as a person and you listen back to something from a different angle? I suddenly could hear what I had been after. It reminded me of experiences I’d had at Swans gigs. I wanted to achieve that energy and charge.”

Dubbing techniques are crucial to the sound of the record. “I set up a few synths on a table and had my mixer running loads of auxes back into the desk so it was all on the edge of feeding back. Then I realised that if I put a mic into the desk I’d have an extra feedback route. I found a setting where I could get it to build when I pointed the mic at the monitors but then turning it away you could put the brakes on the regen.”

Between The Seed And The Timber is Jas Shaw’s inaugural release for the London based, Kindred-affiliated TEETH label. TEETH is rooted in a reverence for texture, space, and sonic decay - amplifying experimental sounds that blend dreamlike melodies with weathered landscapes. Each release informs the next, with every track as vital as the last to complete the whole set.

Orchestrated by Jojo Mathiszig-Lee, founder of London’s Kindred, the label celebrates like-minded talent from the community, providing a platform for transgressing music.

Artworks are made by Scarlet Griffiths.

Following their rattling 45 Cry / I’ll Be There Now and the wiry full-length My Mother Was a Friend of an Enemy of the People, Blurt returns to All City with Mecanno Giraffe - a new 12" capturing Ted Milton’s band of beat-punk absurdists in full, surreal stride.

The A-side delivers the title track: Mecanno Giraffe, a spiky, off-kilter groove threaded with Milton’s unmistakable bark, rhythmic sax blurts, and angular momentum that feels both mechanical and oddly animal. It’s Blurt as alwaya: driving, dry-witted, and defiantly out of sync with any prevailing trends.

On the flip, Milton shifts gear with a number of spoken word pieces. Stripped bare, intimate, incantatory. More Artaud than Allen, these pieces reveal another facet of Blurt’s singular frontman, echoing threads found in recent interviews tracing his ongoing collision of poetry, punk, and performance.

Third strike on the label and still no sign of softening. Mecanno Giraffe proves that Blurt still remains gloriously out of step, part animal, part machine!.

"Crack" ist radikale Reduktion - Für das zweite Album hat die Berliner Band alle Differenzen und Summen weggestrichen und im Proberaum ein Punk-Album eingespielt, das keine weiteren Genrebezeichnungen braucht. DIY wird hier nicht als Gimmick, sondern als alternativlose Notwendigkeit verstanden - "Crack" entstand ohne Studio, ohne Produzent und ohne Ahnung. SEXBEAT interpretiert Punk geschichtsbewusst mit weitgefächerten Einflüssen, die von Oblivians über Suicide bis hin zu Hot Snakes reichen. Klanglich orientiert man sich am 90er-Jahre-Sound des Dischord-Katalogs: Bass und Drums drücken nach vorne, Gitarre und Gesang kotzen sich dazwischen aus. Die Songs klingen mal stark fragmentiert und mechanisch, mal detailliert ausgearbeitet, aber immer direkt und unverblümt. Textlich geht es um alles, was nervt: kaputte Politik, kaputte Gesellschaft und all die kleinen kaputten Dinge in einem selbst. Referenzen reichen von Gordon Solie Motherf**ers ("Give them a dirty floor for a stage. A five bucks show and I'm stoked for days") bis zu George Orwell ("Four legs good, two legs bad"*) - und am Ende muss sogar Grammy-Preisträger Beck herhalten, denn über allem steht: "You make me wanna try crack".

There’s something oddly comforting in the idea of a dead star still sending signals — distant, mechanical, yet somehow filled with meaning. Inertia and the whole record, tap into that contradiction: the sensation of being impossibly far from home, yet still drawn toward something vast, unseen, and filled with memory.

Written & produced by Dangkhoa Chau
Mastered by Stefan Betke at Scapemastering
Vinyl pressed at AFG Record Manufacturing
Distributed by Readymade Distribution
Curation & artwork by Severja

NZO goes sick on a standout debut album for Demdike Stare’s DDS, distilling 2-step UKG, R&B and computerised funk within whirring mechanisms adjacent to mutant jungle and footwork - the proper good stuff.

On ‘Come Alive’ SoYo’s NZO bruks wild but tight on nine tunes chiselled from a distinctive percussive palette cut into fidgety, soulful samples. She dances in and around the cracks of myriad styles with a canny grasp of limb-animating, rhythmic diffraction; all stop/start rhythms and stuttering diva-vocaloids arranged with a rudely shatterproof, grooving pliability. More simply put: it’s dance music for those who like to get super loose and freaky with it.

Chopped up and stitched together over six months in Sheffield, it’s not hard to hear a lineage of advanced Afro-American rhythm science that also feeds into SND’s jerky-but-sexy angularities, and subsequently Rian Treanor’s rugged pugilism, now morphing back to the source, but heavily skewed with it. Her judicious sampling of R&B gems is offset in obliquely funked-up structures in ways that knowingly mess with conditioned anticipations yet never lose sight of the ‘floor, and we’re here for it.

Jumping in with the writhing darkside tekkerz of ‘Rolling Around’ and clocking out with a standout downbeat pearl ‘Looking For’, we hear her displace amapiano closer to halfstep D&B in ‘AXMM’, and decimate 2-step like Akufen on ‘CFML’, while ‘K-space baum bap’ appears to dart in the spaces between UKG and singeli, and the sloshing congas, bass motifs and dub chords of ‘Deadweight’ settle to a sort of aqueous UKF.

SHDW's Mutual Rytm imprint is back with its third release of 2024, marking a full label debut from Sonic Propaganda with their 'Native' EP.

Sonic Propaganda comes from the collaborative minds of Earwax and Rosati, a pair who favour dark and intense techno sounds and take inspiration from Jeff Mills and Robert Hood. In the studio, they blend analog and digital technologies into smoky warehouse atmospheres and immersive journeys that connect with listeners on an emotive level, and this full EP lands following their contribution to the third instalment of the Mutual Rytm's Federation Of Rytm compilation series in February.

The powerful 'Native' opens up at high speed with tightly coiled drum loops that never let up. Sleek metal percussive sounds peel off the grooves and lock listeners into a perfect state of hypnosis. 'Soul Pressure' is just as absorbing, with a tense bassline keeping you on edge as the train-like drums march under incendiary hi-hat ringlets. There is plenty of perfect machine funk to 'Terminal', which has more rusty synth textures and chopped-up vocal fragments humanising the turbulent grooves. 'Basic Path' brings an extra skip to the kicks as they enter, scuffed up and flowing just above the groove, while vocal pulses and twitchy synth modulations bring the detail. 'Body Empire' closes the vinyl package with a deeper vibe and pensive synths that add warmth and soul to the brilliantly mechanical grooves, while digital bonus 'Acid Riot' closes with squelching acid lines amongst a swell of analog crunch and laser-sharp percussion.

Meet The Mechanic: Tom Ries, formerly one of Offenbach’s groove technicians, now based in Berlin, delivers three stripped house tunes designed for full dancefloor function. Known for his role in the Pager Records orbit and his dry, deadpan charm (in both music and manners), each piece here hums with twitchy funk, stripped-down functionality, and just enough mischief under the hood. We first hit him up as fans. A year later, The Mechanic is ready to roll. Built by hand, tested in clubs, and delivered with a grin.

Reissue of in-demand Italo title, with accompanying edits by Hysteric. "For the much-requested 12'' reissue of Roaring Mosquitoes, Best Record followed the hint by a die-hard German researcher and esteemed DJ of 'hidden musical treasures' Frinda Di Lanco. Further enriching this reissue - masterfully remastered by Dom Scuteri - with two of his splendid edits is the Australian DJ-producer George Hysteric, one of the world's leading authorities and a leading figure in Italo Disco. The juxtaposition of the two songs performed with grit and physicality by Agostina Casalino and her cousin Antonietta Casalino (aka Roaring Mosquitoes) highlights two aesthetically and rhythmically similar approaches, albeit with different roots and inspirations. "You Aren't With Me" has the merit of not wanting to reinvent the genre, but exploits the familiarity of pop-dance forms, obtaining an immediate catchiness. The piece stands out for its linearity while reworking melodic mechanisms typical of the 80s new wave: short instrumental intro, well-defined verse-chorus, obsessive repetition of melodic hooks that make it an immediate and "dragging" song on the dance floor. The arrangement focuses on a solid electronic drum groove, sinuous basslines, clean guitar riffs, "cutting" keyboards and the use of the chorus typical of the Italo Disco of those years. Some passages recall the melodic line and rhythmic progression of "Tonight... Crazy Night", an intriguing song that the Canadian artist Dorine Hollier created in 1984 at the Titania Studios in Rome with Pierluigi Giombini. Even with "Ah Ah Ah Ah" which features a vibrant and cheerful sound there's a playful use of citation for some idea that Diego Pepe took from a Micky & Joyce track. It evokes the "space disco" spirit of Jean-Pierre Massiera and the influence of the French scene of 1979: polyphonic synthetic strings, echo effects on electronic hi-hats and a vaguely futuristic atmosphere, but with an even more captivating sound revitalized with more scratchy modern touches and compressed basslines. A mix of vintage and contemporary that enhance its charm."

Introducing ''Sleek Vibra,'' the debut vinyl EP from Alessandro Gramaccioni (AFM), a compelling young Italian artist whose unique sonic vision has been forged through his involvement with the Amen Rave collective and a previous digital EP on Lapsus Records' CEE imprint. This powerful six-track offering for Adepta Editions sees AFM expertly fuse and reimagine a spectrum of genres, weaving together IDM, rave-oriented sounds, bass music, techno, and Afro-Arab rhythms. The result is an immersive sonic tapestry, where memory and tangible form converge into a cohesive audio-tactile experience. ''Sleek Vibra'' invites listeners on a futuristic journey through shadowy sonic landscapes, where the mechanical relentlessly intertwines with the organic. This intense sonic declaration holds nothing back, painting a vivid and uncompromising picture of sonic annihilation in its wake.

"Wind, Again" is Sary Moussa’s fourth studio album and second album on Other People. Based between France and Lebanon, Moussa returns with a riveting electro-acoustic album informed by his ever-changing relationships to space, listening, and resonance as well as his growing interest in the study of harmonics in electronic and electro-acoustic music.

Years in the making, “Wind, Again” approaches distinct musical worlds and languages by bringing together improvisations by musicians performing on Western and West Asian instruments such as the Hammond organ, clarinet, saz, and buzuk with electronic arrangements and textures. Rather than force a rapprochement of these musical worlds through the instruments, and keenly aware of the weighty sonic histories they carry, Moussa proposes another way through which they can exist together in contemporary electronic composition.

Composed of six tracks, each of which demonstrate an array of recording and processing techniques, the album generates moments of tension produced by the synthesis of textural, tonal, and harmonic encounters that Moussa calls “shadows”, which outline an impressionistic musical language, existing at the edge of familiarity. Such moments permeate tracks like “Everywhere at once” and “Violence” that open with the Hammond organ and the saz respectively and slowly reveal an expansive field of sounds that showcases each of the musicians’ characteristic performances and Moussa’s densely layered textures. It is a latent yet unrelenting tension through which the composer invokes rather than represents a collective experiential state, especially familiar to those who know his environment. In “Wind, Again” these shadows are articulations of sounds steeped in traditions they are never quite tethered to. Such articulations are implied and alluded to, they play within a musical reference without the latter explicitly existing in the recording, always teetering, never completely here nor there.
Sonically and musically, the album is fueled by the cultural, social, and personal realities that Moussa was brought up and lives in.

Both personal and musical ties with the musicians who feature on the album is central to Moussa’s practice. In the title track “I will never write a song about you”, musician Julia Sabra opens with rolled piano chords, followed by Paed Conca on clarinet and Abed Kobeissy on buzuk, before Moussa’s electronic processing pieces together, lifts, and sustains the melodic direction of the track that emerged from the musicians’ separate improvisations. For Moussa: “The initial connection between the three performances was made on a track that no longer existed, the original recording was both an obstacle and necessary step for the track we hear on the record. It’s as if we were all telling different stories and I pulled on the thread that held them together”. The track, and more generally the record, is tinged with a melancholy of things lost, though it never fully succumbs to it.
“Everything inside a circle”, Moussa’s most personal track and for which he provides the only vocals on the record, harkens back to a childhood memory of listening to music with his mother in a car: “There was a sound I was looking for — a memory of a sound and how I first heard it. This track is a hybrid of that memory and what I wanted to make of it”. The track relies heavily on generativesystems and perhaps embodies most the ambiguous quality of the record’s music in its refusal to be pinned down by one musical tradition or another.
“Wind, Again” is both familiar and alien, cold and warm; it pays homage to the mechanics, materials, and tactility of the instruments and converges acoustic and synthetic spaces. What anchors the sound of the album are the elements of a whole that cannot find its own idiosyncrasy and that is precisely why Moussa’s album is a tour de force.

PLONC Hits! 001 peaks like the Fichtelberg in the Harz mountains in Germany. A1 is every smiley face’s fantasy, bass-loaded acid with a majestic bump, followed by the most classic Chicago old-skool, so goood, I can’t take it baby. B-side takes a quick detour into the ‘90s with the first track, only to return to a laid back acid groove that ultimately kicks you into low earth orbit.

Limited edition white vinyl (800 copies) The self-styled ritualistic electro-mechanical ensemble OSMIUM is a veritable supergroup. Made up of Oscar-winning composer and instrumentalist Hildur Gudnadóttir, veteran engineer and producer James Ginzburg, Senyawa's idiosyncratic vocalist Rully Shabara and Grammy-winning sound designer / producer Sam Slater, while each member brings along a laundry list of accolades, the project is far greater than the sum of its parts. Alloying burnished electroacoustic soundscapes with dense, metallic drones, barbed rhythms and buckled, bio-mechanical vocalizations, OSMIUM's eagerly awaited debut album doesn't try to cast a rigid future. Rather, it tempers a viscous flow of unorthodox speculations that smolders through the distant past, blazing a trail all the way to the frontier of fate. Absorbed by questions about the relationship between humans and technology, tradition and progression, the individual and the group, OSMIUM channel their experience and expertise into a set of forward-thinking sonic interrogations that skewer established cultural preconceptions. And although genre is acknowledged - the album draws from folk, doom metal, 20th century minimalism, industrial music and extreme noise - there's never a sense that it's riveted firmly in place. Widely known for her soundtrack work (including `Joker' and `Chernobyl') Gudnadóttir plays the halldorophone, a unique cello-like electroacoustic instrument designed by Halldór Ulfarsson that allows the performer to harness unstable feedback loops. Taking his cues from this process, Slater (who has worked alongside Jóhann Jóhannsson, Ben Frost and others) generates rhythms using a self-oscillating drum he designed with KOMA Elektronik and Subtext boss and Emptyset member Ginzburg responds in kind, producing booming tambura-like sonorities from a device he developed himself based on the monocord, an ancient single- stringed resonator. OSMIUM synchronize the three unique instruments using a custom system of robotics to generate basic rhythms that underpin their improvisations and experiments, and Shabara's alien tones supply the band with their conceptual fulcrum. The vocalist is one of South Asia's most recognizable underground artists, and the sounds he's able to create using exhaustively rehearsed extended techniques are so distinctive that he's been studied by scientists back home in Indonesia. Never weighed down by needless sound design or modish ornamentation, it's music that feels authentically experimental; OSMIUM have figured out an awkward symmetry between their discrete approaches, concentrating their gaze on the outcome rather than the process. The result is a work of science fiction that's driven by interaction, conversation and sensation.

Dummy is a rock band from Los Angeles comprised of Alex Ewell, Emma Maatman, Nathan O'Dell, and Joe Trainor. Their debut full-length "Mandatory Enjoyment" (Trouble in Mind) arrived in late 2021, becoming one of the year 's sleeper hits and garnering praise from Pitchfork, Stereogum, and more. Coming out of lockdown, the band spent two years touring in support of the record, and it is this transformational experience that pulses through "Free Energy ", the exhilarating follow-up to "Mandatory Enjoyment". A creatively restless band, Dummy (Ewell: drums, synths, bass; Maatman: vocals, synths, organ; O'Dell: vocals, guitar, organ; Trainor: guitar, bass, synths) wanted to get harder, dancier, more psychedelic for their next record. This meant applying explorative potentials of electronic textures to the elemental qualities of rock i.e. more vocal loops, sampling, more crazy rhythms, and playful synths - but make those samples of Trainor 's guitar, let Maatman sing bolder, experiment with using cold mechanical elements in warm and sparkly ways, and lean harder into traditional-yet-still-awesome forms of rock guitar experimentation like feedbackThe result is a record that celebrates music's ability to move the body, whether that be through a teeth-rattling wall of MBV-esque noise, a sticky pop chorus, or a joyous drum machine_or, if you're Dummy, maybe all of them in the same song. Pop music has always been a big part of Dummy's sound and it manifests in different ways all over Free Energy: the bubbly synth sequence made with a Korg EM1 popping all over "Nullspace," the revved-up drone-pop inspired by second and third wave Dunedin Sound bands like Look Blue Go Purple and Dadamah, and the motorik beat powering "Nine Clean Nails," perhaps the most confidently pop song Dummy has ever recorded and one that exemplifies "Free Energy "'s balancing of live performance intensity with electronic augmentations, the dancier rhythmic elements created out of a drum loop recorded by Ewell while the bridge recalls the Feelies with call-and-response guitars from O'Dell and expressive vocals from Maatman. "Free Energy " also features guest appearances from Oakland-based saxophonist and electroacoustic artist Cole Pulice (Moon Glyph) contributes saxophone and wind synths and Jen Powers of Powers / Rolin Duo (Astral Editions, Feeding Tube Records).

Crafted entirely on an analog monophonic synthesizer with no overdubs, Pièces Monophoniques is a tribute to simplicity in an era of limitless digital possibilities. Since his debut album, Music For Prophet (Les Disques du Festival Permanent, 2017), Majorca-born composer Marc Melià, now a long-time resident of Brussels, has been redefining the contours of electronic music through a minimalist, reductionist approach. Much like a solitary hike through the vastness of mountains, where one carries only the essentials, Melià’s work invites listeners on a journey stripped of excess, focusing instead on the purity of sound and intention.
While some have dismissed monophonic music as overly simplistic, others have embraced its distinct charm. Historical records, such as those by Johannes Quasten, reveal that early Church leaders were drawn to monophonic music because it resonated with the era's cosmological beliefs, highlighting the harmony and unity of all creation. In an age of digital abundance, Marc Melià deliberately embraces constraint, crafting an album that thrives within a limited palette of choices. Yet, from these self-imposed boundaries emerges a stunning universe, brimming with rich textures and elegant harmonies. For his debut album, Melià worked exclusively with a Sequential Prophet. With Pièces Monophoniques, his third LP, he returns armed solely with an analog monophonic synthesizer and handcrafted MIDI sequences etched directly onto a single stereo track. These recordings seek to uncover beauty within the boundaries of limitations and simplicity, rejecting any embellishments that are not essential. Melià presents the bare skeleton of music, highlighting the power of absence and silence as creative forces. Like the hidden mass of an iceberg, what is not heard becomes as significant as what is heard.
The album navigates the boundary where the quest for an uninhibited emotional response intersects with the mechanical sounds generated by synthesizer circuitry. Despite being a collection of beatless tracks, a pulse occasionally surfaces, like in the closing piece, "224 Steps. A sharp sequence blended with multiple delays and reverbs creates the vaporous celestial specter of multiple voices in "Illusions of Polyphony", while "Échoes et Fantasies" conjures the illusion of dual harmony. The expansive reverbs and silences between the euphoric synth phrases in "Overture" transport us to an imaginary magestic landscape shaped out of an electric field. "Resonances," a one-note drone-like sequence, embodies the album's aims as a series of resonances created with the synth filter emerge from the fundamental note.
"Pièces Monophoniques," aims to contribute to a tradition that dates back to the dawn of humanity. After all, there is no denying that the earliest music crafted by humanity was monophonic, from the soothing lullabies sung to newborns to Gregorian chants, traditional labor songs, and the repertoire of solo compositions by countless composers.

Neo Gibson, born in Virginia and based in New York City, records, performs, and produces as 7038634357. This numerical alias, under which Gibson has been releasing work since 2016, offers a window into the careful ambivalences of the musical project. It conjures the impersonal_the opacity and randomness of data, a number that is hard to remember or even say out loud_while also suggesting a direct line of communication with the artist, down to an area code indexing their biography. 7038634357 uses a restricted palette to achieve music that is formally precise and emotionally direct. Their digital-native approach to production, in which frank melodies cross paths with heavy distortion, contains traces of both trance's maximalist arcs and a songwriterly intimacy. Expressive details may appear submerged or abraded, subjected to a canny sense of dynamics and textural specificity. Waterfall Horizon, Gibson's second vinyl record with Blank Forms Editions under the moniker 7038634357, was written for live performance and workshopped over successive shows during their 2022 European tour. Here, hallmarks of their earlier, studio-crafted recordings_digital distortion that obfuscates their lyrics and a slow-burning ambience_are noticeably pared back. Instead, Waterfall Horizon takes on a pop inflection, adopting more traditional lyric scaffolds so that the interstices from verse to chorus or track to track can flourish within their limited tonal range.Across recordings and performances, Gibson activates wide-ranging mechanisms of audience connection: from the relative anonymity of internet platforms to live experiments with the spatial effects of amplification. They have a particular interest in site-specific performances in non-musical spaces, and have performed in a variety of contexts, including the mezzanine of the West 4th Street subway station in New York City and INA GRM/Radio France's Présences électronique festival. Under their own name, Gibson has maintained a longstanding collaboration with the artist Charles Stobbs, working primarily with FM transmission and techniques derived from the early-seventeenth-century English tradition of change-ringing bells. The first 7038634357 vinyl record, Neo Seven, was released on Blank Forms Editions in 2023; previous releases include self-released cassettes and CD-Rs, as well as a pair of EPs on Genome 6.66 Mbp (2018, 2019).

Carrying on from recent archival releases from masters of Indian classical tradition such as Kamalesh Maitra and the Dagar Brothers, Black Truffle is pleased to present a previously unheard recording of a concert by Pakistani vocalist Salamat Ali Khan. Born to a musician family in Hoshiarpur in the northwestern state of Punjab, Khan moved with his family to Lahore in Pakistan after the 1947 partition of India, becoming a child musical prodigy. Khan was a master of the kyhal form of Hindustani classical vocal music, a style integrating influences from Middle Eastern musical traditions that gives the singer a great deal of improvisational freedom. Travelling widely across the globe from the 1960s until his death in 2001, Khan approached ragas performed in the kyhal style as expressive forums for risk-taking improvisation, enlivened by ceaseless ornamental invention.

This remarkable recording was captured by Michael Hönig (of krautrock legends Agitation Free) in concert at Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie as part of the MetaMusik festival in 1974 (which also featured Nico, Tangerine Dream, and Roberto Laneri’s Prima Materia, among many others). Khan, who is also heard accompanying himself on a specially tuned alpine zither (in place of the traditional swarmandal, an Indian style of zither), is joined by Shaukat Hussein Khan on tabla and Hussein Bux Khan on harmonium. The lack of a familiar underlying tanpura drone gives this performance a weightless, floating quality, with all three of the musicians playing masterfully with the interaction between silence and the pulse propelling each section of the raag.

As Khan explains in his opening remarks, this performance of the rainy season Raag Megh is divided into three parts, each with its own tempo and rhythmic scheme (tala). The opening vilambit, in a twelve-beat tala, stretches out for over twenty minutes, lingering for a long time in a space of meditative calm, Khan lightly strumming the zither while exploring the lower end of his range in languorously extended notes. Virtuoso tabla interjections at first barely state the tempo, and the interplay between musicians is so spacious that we hear scraps of audience noise and the squeak of the harmonium’s mechanism in between the notes. Gradually picking up rhythmic definition and melodic complexity, after around fifteen minutes the music builds dramatically, with Khan letting out emotive yelps and swooping scalar shapes ranging across his full vocal range. This flows seamlessly into the following jhaptal, at a faster tempo in ten beats, which then makes way for the concluding teental, very fast in sixteen beats, which becomes a frantic improvisational exchange of daring rhythmic disruptions from the tabla, flowing harmonium melodies, and a stunning variety of vocal approaches from Khan, ranging from rapid-fire staccato consonants to guttural growls.

Accompanied by stunning black and white concert photographs, the LP also contains a moving and entertaining recollection from acclaimed German musicologist Peter Pannke, looking back on his experience assisting Khan and his musicians in Berlin at the Metamusik festival (including a mouth-watering description of a feast cooked by the maestro himself). As Pannke describes in his account of attending the concert, the beauty and spiritual intensity of this music leaves the listener speechless.

LIMITED VINYL COMES IN CARDBOARD SLEEVE WITH BOOKLET!
OSTRANENIE is a collection of digitally manipulated, impressionistic piano miniatures — each named after blockbuster films and TV series. Improvised late at night as a reaction against passive media consumption, these pieces function as both homage and critique, navigating the space between classical impressionism and contemporary digital manipulation. They don’t just deconstruct traditional piano expression; they interrogate the emotional stakes of sound in an era where immersion culture flattens meaning and algorithmic logic erodes agency.

The album’s title references the Russian formalist Viktor Shklovsky’s concept of “ostranenie” (ɐstrɐˈnjenjɪj, estrangement/defamiliarization), a term he introduced in the early 1920s to describe art’s role in resisting the indifference of habitual perception.

“And so, held accountable for nothing, life fades into nothingness. Automation eats away at things, at clothes, at furniture, at our wives, and at our fear of war.”
—Viktor Shklovsky, Theory of Prose (1925)

Shklovsky saw art as a way to break through the anesthetizing effects of routine, stripping away the layers of habit that dull our senses. By making the familiar strange, art reclaims perception from the mechanical and the automatic. His argument wasn’t just a theoretical exercise — it was a response to a world rapidly consumed by industrialization, war machines, and the alienation of a technologically dominated modern life. In this context, he positioned artistic technique as something autonomous, distinct from mere social criticism or psychological reflection. Art seeks to remove “...the crust that the world of things deposits on our senses, with routine’s unending murder of the real.” Ben Ehrenreich on Serena Vitale’s Making Strange (The Nation, 2013)

This tension—between revolutionary/artistic and industrial technologies—defined the 20th century, and it continues to resonate today. The mechanization and automation that fueled the First World War’s devastation, alongside the social and economic turbulence of the 1920s, became central to the era’s self-conception. But just as technology was a source of alienation, it was also positioned as an agent of radical change. As the shock of modernity disrupted the human condition, it also became the driving force behind an ideological utopia — one that ultimately deformed into political totalitarianism — a paradox that remains unresolved.

OSTRANENIE plays within this contradiction. The music shifts seamlessly between an uncanny black MIDI dismantling of traditional piano virtuosity and moments of raw, fragile intimacy. The result is a work that resists automatic anonymity while questioning what it means to create in an era where the technological mediation of sound — and experience itself — is unavoidable: Art in the age of its technological constructedness.

After breaking through with a gold selling debut in the late 1990’s, Harlem emcee Cam’ron quickly emerged as a leading figure in hip-hop, just as the genre was reaching mass audiences for the first time. A platinum-selling classic on Roc-A-Fella Records came a few years later, followed by the founding of the iconic collective Dipset and the release of three more seismic solo albums over the course of the 2000s. The last chapter in his historic run was 2009’s Crime Pays, which drew praise from critics while also lighting up the Billboard Charts, showcasing Cam’s sonic evolution while proving his pen game remained unmatched. More than 15 years after it’s release, this vital collection is now receiving an official vinyl pressing for the first time ever. A perpetually underrated lyricist with transcendent rhyme mechanics embedded in his leisurely flow, Cam’ron is in peak form on Crime Pays, effortlessly walking listeners through the details of his fascinating life and times. With suprisingly modern production supplied by AraabMuzik, I.N.F.O., Skitzo, and more, this memorable album is an important chapter in the story of a truly essential artist.

"The meaning of this concept (Space Outside :Space) lies within your answers to these questions. Providing the questions are considered with honesty, the true meaning of what "Space" refers to becomes revealed.
There are no right or wrong answers, just reactions based on your view and angles on the mechanisms of life."

- Millsart aka Jeff Mills


What becomes a person that doesn't dream? What happens when we get all that we ever wanted? Do we know too much? Can we truly justify pessimism?
What are you planning on leaving behind? If given more life, stay the same or change? Life is more about giving or taking? Good fortune is based on what? What's more effective, love or hate? Do we care enough? Are we OK?
Life is mostly about ? Is there a end to this? Knowing that it propels, are we capable of critical thinking? Who is more important then yourself? What is worth dying for?

Pierre Bastien and Michel Banabila return with Nuits Sans Nuit, their second collaboration following their Baba Soirée debut from 2023. Recorded as an intuitive exchange between Rotterdam and Valencia, the album emerged from a simple ping-pong process: Banabila sculpted sounds and atmospheres, to which Bastien responded with his distinctive instrumental palette: flute-augmented cornet, mechanised log drum, and more. Mixed by Banabila, the result is a raw yet immersive work that resonates with a somnambulant, wide-awake presence. Nuits Sans Nuit unfolds through shifting shades of melancholy. "I don"t know how to describe the feeling of these crazy times we live in," says Banabila. "Les plus désespérés sont les chants les plus beaux," Bastien quotes De Musset. Wordless yet deeply expressive, the album invites listeners into a space of contemplation, where meaning emerges through immersion - like ritual music carrying an unspoken message. Echoes of saudade, blues, fado, and soleá surface in the duo"s playful noise, reimagined through their singular vocabulary.

Elektrotechnik - Impulse EP is functional, dark, built for the dance floor. Machine-tight sequencing stands in contrast to an emotional atmosphere across four original tracks. A tense, precisely constructed record that explores control, repetition and feelings. Dutch legend Rude 66 delivers a slowed-down mutation of "Impulse" with his signature vocoder work, while Teslasonic recharges "Das Fundament" with a tight acid bassline.

Corrosiv, the sophomore album from Orchestroll, reveals the duo at their most mature and vulnerable. Originally conceived as a reflection on hybridity and bastardization, the album deploys New Age and ambient compositional tropes as a launchpad, exposing their trite sanctity to the realities of corrosion. Having come of age in the 1970s and 1980s, the New Age movement perdures today as a domain of contradictions; its promise of transcendence riddled with the very commercialized dogma from which its adherents claim to flee. Healing modalities such as reiki, crystal therapy, and sound baths are simultaneously pathways to solace and sites of exploitation; their sonic counterparts—ethereal synth pads, shimmering textures, celestial drones—claim to facilitate meditation and enlightenment while devolving into empty signifiers of vitality. With Corrosiv, Orchestroll displays neither reverence nor disdain toward New Age: they exhume it instead, revealing the saccharine effervescence and commodified murk undergirding its aesthetics. The result is intoxicating—disquieting.

Born from a two-week residency at EMS Studios and expanded through a performance at MUTEK Montreal’s 25th anniversary, Corrosiv has since outgrown its original conceptual nucleus, taking on a broader scope. Its inquiry into New Age ideology’s voided rhetoric and aesthetic mysticism now informs a broader interrogation of cultural mediocrity, anti-authoritarianism, gatekeeping, music industry toxicity, and the crumbling edifice of late capitalism and techno-feudalism—all the mechanisms by which meaning is stripped from ceremony, and once-potent forms of knowledge are subsumed into the machinery of economic extraction, severed from their original essence, and transformed into hollow simulacra. Corrosiv distills these themes through a loose narrative: a soul, fixated on wellness as dictated by cosmetic economism, becomes ensnared in an endless afterlife, unable to transcend and shed its dilapidated consciousness.

Framed as an act of audio dissolution, the album thus engages in an alchemical process, whereby complex waveshaping, morphing synthesis, and distortion enact a ritual of fragmentation. There is also friction: between the rigid, mechanical imposition of systematized order and the untamed, chaotic force of organic metamorphosis. Here corrosion and confinement are not solely conceptual motifs; they are enacted in real time, sculpting the album’s terrain. Scraping, tarnishing, degradation—the languid wear of form and substance—become instruments in their own right: buffing as abrasion, entrapment as transformation, corrosion as a means of reconfiguration. The ‘protagonist,’ if there must be one, is the listener, caught within the throes of structural determinism and the potential for emancipation, unable to pass into something greater as the specters of collapsed futures accumulate in the margins.

Corrosiv extends its reach through collaborations with familiar voices: Heith (PAN), VISIO (Haunter), Femminielli (Drowned by Locals), Habib Bardi (Interzone), and Jiyoung Wi (Enmossed, Psychic Liberation, Doyenne) each leave their imprint on its sprawling landscape. At 1h16m, it is a procession, dense with earworms that burrow into the listener’s unconscious.

Misshapen, broken-down metals leach copper into blood, acid reflux burning through the core. Psyche disaggregates into cosmic turmoil, drifting between planes—tongue on rustline, gullet laced with solvent hymns, molars unlatching, bitcrushed to marrowspill. A spasm of brine, ferrous scripture, venomtext blooming in leaden rivulets, cartilage smoldering in phosphor decomposition, synapses drowning in a quicksilver choir. Crest of bile, churning ore, breath clotting into arsenic mist, vein-thread cinched, a corrosive gospel, limb by limb, oxidized to silence.

Ultimately, as the music exhales its final breath, its residue refuses to dissipate—and stillness alone remains. There are no conclusions here—no resolution, no collapse—only the slow drift outward of a vessel unmoored, lost in the sea of symbolic souring. Corrosiv sings the song of a world barren of prophecy, littered with aesthetic detritus. Whether this magic has been transfigured or simply worn away is unclear: the last breath dissipates, but the oxidation does not stop. The silence, too, will decay.

Conceptualized, composed, performed, recorded, mixed, engineered and produced by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier, and Asaël Richard-Robitaille in 2023 and 2024 at Elektron Musik Studion (EMS) - Stockholm, Sweden and Landsc8pe Studio - Montréal, QC, Canada.
Artwork by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu @ Schwebung Mastering.

Spectral Bounce’s fifth instalment comes courtesy of L.A.’s rave archivist and dancefloor operative Dreams, A.K.A. Jesse Pimenta. Throughout his decade-long career the California native has inspected, dissected and concocted all manner of dance musics, leaving his mark with drops on Apron Records, Pinkman, BANK NYC and his own imprint Dance Data. On SPEC05 — Dangerous When Wet — he hijacks the synapses with 4 accomplished productions, plotting a high BPM course through manifold styles using the raw aesthetic that characterises his output.

“Losing Control” is a frenetic dancefloor invitation, immediately locking into a pacing groove. Beneath wild hand drums, Dreams plays with an insistent 303 bassline alternating between rasping buzz and oily squelch, while stern vocals are layered on top of breaks that have been processed to a viscerally satisfying end.

Taking things from delirious dance circle to underwater biosphere, the EP’s eponymous track explores a submerged 1980s Miami. Weighty & enveloping, “Dangerous When Wet” is pure aquatic pop-n-lock — hydraulic electro for a drowned world. Ocean floor caustics are transmuted into auditory form: arpeggios bubble up; drones shimmer mystically; hi-hats hiss like air from an open valve. Amongst the sonar bleeps, a barrage of pummeling low-end is sure to give subwoofers a workout.

“XTC Messenger” delivers an infectious paranoid dispatch, astutely balancing the sensual with the deranged. A slow-mo dial tone unfolds languidly, running counter to nervously twitching high frequencies. Its punchy percussion is tuned for maximum dopamine release; the track’s abrupt vocal chops and mechanical kick-snare pulsation evoke the leather jackets and jagged edges of 1980s industrial discotheque.

“Pressure Points” closes the EP on a heady and mesmerising polymetric trip. The parting track is a lithe yet spacious number, propelled by a rattling break. Here Dreams follows from track 2, creating an immersive environment in which sounds tightly twist and twirl. Shifting oscillators call out like tiny creatures as the bass throbs and wriggles further into your brain, long after the needle hits the runout groove.

With releases on Brooklyn’s Major Records and UK imprints Non Stop Rhythm and Indulgence, DJ Split is a breakthrough producer putting his own stamp on the classic Chicago house sound. For his Shadow Pressings debut he has conjured up five original club cuts that will work their magic on any dance-floor worth it’s salt.

Last Night Baby sets the tone with taught 909 beats, punchy bassline stuttering vocal hits. Piano chords and a smattering of melodic chimes and just the right amount of musicality without taking away any of the raw energy and turbo-charged grunt. Treading a similar path but upping the BPM’s, XNXX goes for the jugular with gnarly FM bassline and frenetic groove.

Flip over for Can I Tell You? which goes a little deeper with a rolling bassline, filtering Detroit pads and strings whilst Step For brings touches of acid, banging 909 toms and vocal chops. Closing out the EP we have One In A Life Time which turns up the jack factor with snappy 808 snares, mechanical bass line and deep stabs. DJ Split is a man on a mission to bang the party and has come prepared with his piñata fully loaded with big, fat beats n basslines.

Cindytalk is the mercurial, expressionist outlet of Scottish artist Cinder, inspired by the crossroads of exploratory UK post-punk and early European industrial. Her work thrives on chance and transformation, collaging elements of noise, balladry, soundtrack, catharsis, and improvisation. "We were trying to find our own space," says Cinder of the formative period Camouflage Heart emerged from, amidst a move from Edinburgh to London and Cinder's evolving exploration of gender identity, well before culture at large was equipped to understand. With contemporary discourse we see that the project manifested her transgender ideas as visceral music. The guttural, feral sound marked a notably darker turn from The Freeze's sixyear run on the fringes of punk. Changing the project's name became vital, not just because they kept hearing the former was already taken, but the desire to embody the spiritual and sonic shift, "to uncover new pathways_to feminize it," she says. Cinder, with bandmates David Clancy and John Byrne, arrived at Cindytalk, a winking nod to Sindy, the British fashion doll rival to Barbie known then for its pull-string talking mechanism. "The goal was to have a more interesting narrative, more interesting dialogue. Music was ultimately my only way of talking to people. That was my conversation with the world, an abstracted conversation_an attempt to make some kind of tiny, tiny mark, if possible, you hope somebody will notice." Over the years, Cinder has heard from fans who did pick up on the signals and find refuge in Camouflage Heart. Camouflage Heart plays with tension and pace, from creeping to feverish to claustrophobic. The percussion moves between restless marches and barely-there pulses; for some parts, they scratched and hit a tin bath, among other objects. Guitar lines vibrate and stab as Cinder contorts her voice freely. She pulls poetry from a cerebral abyss, like "make the snake in your eye, pierce the camouflage heart" on the slow-droning centerpiece "The Spirit Behind the Circus Dream." In that register is raw power, both vulnerable and menacing, an ability to locate something deep and emotionally charged within. "I still remember that person who was way too intense for their own good," Cinder reflects. "I couldn't make a record like that now, certainly not vocally, while that anger hasn't dissipated; there's still a kind of warrior." For all the destruction and disintegration of Camouflage Heart, Cinder maintains the objective was never full-on fatalistic; these songs seek not to destroy but to poke and provoke, to transform and heal, to find cracks of light in a crumbling world. She points to the last lines of the opening track, "It's Luxury": "Don't look down," the lyric pines through static and rhythm. Cinder extrapolates, "I'm essentially saying, just keep fucking going. As time went on, for me, that falling became flying. Camouflage Heart is the beginning of believing in flight."

Welcome to this wild ride of cheese, wooden shoes, green gold and a whole lotta Dutch rock 'n roll attitude! This album is a high-octane compilation where today's garage, beat and rock'n'roll artists pay tribute to the rich history of Nederbeat and pop Each covering a classic Dutch tune with their own twist, companied with their own original. Think of it as a musical time machine with a detour through the gritty, reverbing walls of Studio Teepdek, guided under strict supervision by studio guru Arjan Spies and released by Soundflat Records / Topsy Turvy Records; home of the best contemporary Dutch artists. Buckle up, because you're about to hear the Netherlands' musical past and present collide in a glorious explosion of sound with a shot of cheap adrenaline.Enjoy the ride and to turn it up to 11.

The Krontjong Devils:The Greatest thing to come out of Holland since the Dutch Treat! Playing Surfmusic since 1991 and still going strong! Mooon: This young power trio consists of brothers Tom and Gijs and their cousin Timo. These cats take you to the Golden Age of pop music: the psychedelic boom of the 60's and 70's. The Kryng:Three jinxed no-good guys with an insatiable appetite for great popsongs. Their ace in the hole is singer/ guitarist/ cult- hero Mark ten Hoor, an extraordinary craftsman //when it comes to writing catchy and powerful songs. Fleur:She has the looks, the moves and a voice that sounds like a cool breeze on a hot summer day. The Heck:High pace, hectic, energetic and wild 60's garagepunk outfit all the way from Klazinaveen. Feel free to place them somewhere in between The Sonics and Reigning Sound. Frankie:The young and aspiring talent Frankie from the Eindhoven writes double edged songs like a head in the clouds and roots from your feet. Written like a dream but grounded in reality. Les Robots: Mechanical men from outer space, stationed in Rotterdam, presumably programmed by legendary producer Joe Meek to make astonishing instrumental music.

NOW is proud to present the next instalment in our ongoing ‘Yearbook’ series, and the final one representing an individual year from the 1980s: NOW – Yearbook 1989. 78 tracks across 4CDs – celebrating a magnificent and eclectic year in pop! This release is available as a standard 4-CD set, and as a special edition 4-CD set in ‘hardback book’ packaging, which includes a 28-page booklet packed with notes about all of the 78 featured tracks. Also available as 42 tracks across 3LPs, pressed in stunning pink vinyl…celebrating a magnificent and eclectic year in pop!

In the Andes of Peru, in a valley formed by the Huallaga River, lies the city of Huanuco. There, a little over fifty years ago, the emblematic cumbia band Los Darlings de Huánuco was born, and since then their compositions have gone around the world, bringing their homeland to the ears of music lovers and collectors. Adversities kept them away from music for two decades, but in spite of this, they marked a parallel path and created their own history in the maximum splendor of Peruvian cumbia. In a valley formed by the Huallaga River lies a temperate land located on the eastern slopes of the central Andes of Peru: Huánuco. A little more than seventy years ago, in that land of mountains and starry skies at almost 2,000 meters above sea level, Juan Nájera was born. A multifaceted musician by profession, he did not always have the privilege of being able to dedicate his life to music. For almost ten years he ran a family hardware store in Huánuco and then a mechanic shop on La Marina Avenue in Lima. He was also a truck driver. A decade of military dictatorships in Latin America made the artist's path very hard in the region, and Peru was no exception. Nájera was only nineteen when his first son was born. He had to make a living and the possibilities for entrepreneurship were slim. But if we go back in history, Juan Nájera was, first and foremost, a boy who dreamed of becoming a musician. Later, he was a boy who made it. Los Darlings de Huánuco managed to cross borders, not only in the capital of Peru, but also abroad. There are many collectors and music lovers around the world who seek and appreciate their songs, musical gems that have toured different latitudes and have managed to position this band from the Peruvian countryside in the most remote places on the planet. In a country characterized by its centralism, where opportunities in the countryside are much scarcer than in the capital, where the foreigner is greeted with more warmth than the local, and where getting ahead, especially in the musical field, implies an extraordinary effort, Los Darlings de Huánuco managed to take their sound to where they never thought it would be possible. From the Andes to the skyscrapers, from the heart of Huánuco to the immensity of other continents.

Mr. Computer sees two figureheads of Dutch electronics pay homage to the voice of electro disco, the vocoder. Figi and Luca dell’Orso team up to sing praise of a tool that has crossed genres and styles and give the little metal larynx deserved limelight on their own three track theatre. Rumbling bass is shot through with crisp snaps in the title piece, warbling vocals rising as keys dance in this wonderful collaboration.

Production across the 12” is beautifully clean and sharp, allowing the rich analogue sound and robotic lyrics to be fully appreciated. Of course, as happens with the vocoder, those lyrics are just that shade of bittersweet. That brooding quality is used to full effect by Luca dell’Orso in “Fire with Fire”. A bold and daring melody is countered by a tale flecked with sorrow, the brightness and immersion of synths contrasted by the filtered and fractured human voice. Figi flies solo for the finale. “Moonlight (Vocoder Version)” dips words in a thick mechanical syrup, a story of burning love recanted to moonbeam rinses and bending disco bars.

A true celebration of man and machine.

Repress! with New Artwork

FELT’s sixth volume extracts another fascinating mineral from Guy Brewer’s Carrier alias, further descending the wormhole of darkside minimalism with his most obfuscated rhythmic explorations yet.

FATHOM witnesses Guy Brewer’s unrelenting distillation of precision electronics develop beyond prior incarnations into unclassifiable mutations. Carrier is his sonic vessel in this new era, liberating his prior restrictions to highlight the outer kinetic recesses of experimental sounds that finds a natural home on Perko’s ever-evolving FELT imprint.

The title track twitches along in hallucinatory abstraction, circling the depths with glitched-out programming and fogged-out atmospherics. The Cusp narrows its gaze, meditating on a tense drum rollage that teeters on mellowed menace. Markers then forms a mechanised rinse-out of rumbling subs and plummeting steppers momentum. Trooper unfurls in a finale of future-shocked half time rollage and arpeggiated textures that affirms Carrier’s unwavering vision in sound and style.

Three LPs packed in a trifold jacket. Pressed on Deep Ocean Pearl, Gold & Dark Green Vinyl. Take up your sword, channel your magic or board your Mech. Chained Echoes is a 16-bit style RPG set in a fantasy world where dragons are as common as piloted mechanical suits. The game is set on the continent of Valandis during the time of a multi-generational war between three kingdoms, Taryn, Gravos and Escanya. After a great catastrophe caused by Grand Grimoire shakes the continent, the kingdoms agree to sign a peace treaty. One year later, an unknown force strives to begin a new war. A group of unlikely heroes joins forces and eventually becomes the clan of Crimson Wings in order to stop it. The outstanding soundtrack for Chained Echoes was passionately composed, arranged and recorded over four years by Eddie Marianukroh as well as many other musicians who worked under his direction. It includes 50 tracks at two hours in length. Even the game has been out for a while, Marianukroh's admiration and enthusiasm for the game and his addition to it remain undiminished: "It has been over two years now since the release of Chained Echoes, which is rather difficult for me to believe. Time really flies, and it's honestly a bit frightening when I think about it. But, despite that, when I listen to the music I've written for this game, I still very much remain proud of what I composed. I really did give my all for this soundtrack. I will forever be grateful to Matthias for trusting me with the music for his game. I can vividly remember how I felt when I first came across his project, and how I nervously reached out to him about the composer position. I truly, truly cannot thank him enough for giving me this memorable experience that I will always hold dear. Thank you, my friend."

On ‘Animal’, Ash Fure appeals to “animal intelligence” by using sounds that are inherently physical and driven by perception, athleticism and interaction. Placing polycarbonate sheeting over an inverted subwoofer she built alongside her partner Xavi Aguirre and brother Adam, Fure isolates the physical impact of sound by focusing on psychoacoustic sub-bass pulses, semi-perceptible micro-rhythms and discomfiting white noise bursts, linking the process to her experiences in Berlin and Detroit’s techno dungeons where the sound has to adapt to the space it’s performed in. When she performed ‘Animal’ for the first time, Fure fabricated a “listening gym”, allowing the audience to interact in real-time by circuit training in response to the sound. The sweat is almost audible across the record, a run-on selection of rhythms, resonances and abstractions that sound like interlocking heartbeats on a series of treadmills. Her fascination with techno’s cavernous cathedrals is clear from the beginning, but Fure doesn’t worship at the altar: we’re hit with the feeling, not the aesthetic. The beats themselves, made from unstable vibrations and waterlogged, reverberating clicks, echo the brain’s unconscious reaction to repetition in a vast concrete box, the feeling you get when each percussive snag ricochets from every surface in the building. Coddling these whirring, criss-crossing polyrhythms with harsh, distorted low-end retches, Fure accurately recreates the energy and fatigue of the endless weekend sesh. We never once encounter techno in its expected shell, just its residue - the outline of humans figuring out their relationship with technology, architecture and each other. Fure’s use of dynamics is also deviously smart, marking out an overall rhythm that’s not tied to the strength of the sounds themselves, but just volume and physical impact. Often her most brutal sounds - ear-splitting squeals and overdriven mechanical whirrs - are reduced to an almost inaudible level, a bit like the bandy legged trip to the bathroom, or the escape to some dimly lit nook, the part of the night where you can still detect the sound on your skin without being battered by it. When the undulating rhythm returns in earnest, Fure masks acidic sequences in jet engine expulsions, still refusing to objectify anything that an AI model might be able to pick up on.

6 analogue tracks from the studio of the legendary D'arcangelo duo, printed on ''type 2 chrome'' tape for even more depth and depth. For any mechanical tape reader..in your car..in your pocket, in your room...as portable as you need..'

A boldly nonconformist Japanese singer, songwriter, composer and producer. Based in London, Mieko Shimizu has released numerous albums and singles, as she continues to make her mark on avant-garde and experimental genres.