Search:the revelations

Another Country is the fifth full-length album by Cindy, the San Francisco-based group built around the songwriting of Karina Gill. Recorded, like all of its predecessors, in their hometown and with a consistent line-up held over from their previous record (the Swan Lake EP from 2024), it is replete with the poetry of private vistas, eavesdropped dramas and confusing winds. These are classic Cindy concerns, and yet, as always, contain new mystery and charm to somehow feel like quiet revelations each time. Another Country is both opaque in its intentions and specific in its presentation, and as such presents the kind of truth that keeps the listener on the search for answers just out of reach.
"The title of this record, Another Country, refers to the James Baldwin novel of that name. The book has a kind of drama that makes sense to me. When I look around, the obvious explanations are not enough. The miasma of feelings and ideas that is supposed to account for it all, doesn't. Baldwin washes past that to longings that begin to explain. Cindy songs come out of the x-rays my particular brain makes out of what I see and experience. What you hear on this record is the result of collaboration with the members of Cindy that transforms that shadowy thing into full color, fully fleshed. Each of them, in music, is sure-footed and unblinking, and making this record together felt like, yes, yes, you see what I mean."
Cindy is Karina, Staizsh, Will & Oli. Another Country will be released on 1st May 2026 via Tough Love.

On Hungry Animal, Luke Temple continues to trace the invisible lines between the personal and the cosmic _ between what we feel, what we observe, and what we inherit simply by being alive. The album reunites Temple with Doug Stuart (bass) and Kosta Galanopoulos (drums), the core of his Cascading Moms ensemble, whose instinctive chemistry anchors the record's balance of rhythmic precision and melodic drift. Together they shape a sound that feels handmade and fluid, delivering sharp observations in soft focus. The album opens with "Clean Living," a tenderly libidinous groove, unraveling purity myths and self-discipline _ less a confession than a celebration of the futility of striving for perfection in a flawed world. From there, "Echo Park Donut" shifts into the memory of an unsettling vignette drawn from a violent incident outside Temple's Los Angeles home. The band moves with a quiet pulse beneath the story, suggesting both detachment and the surreal intimacy of fear. The title track, "Hungry Animal," grounds the album's broader questions: how well can we really know one another, or ourselves? Temple's lyrics circle around the idea that we are animals among animals, driven by instinct and affection alike. It's both playful and philosophical, one of the record's emotional centers. Temple's bandmates bring an understated mastery to these pieces. Stuart's melodic, infectious grooves converse fluidly with Galanopoulos's drumming, which breathes life into each song even as it gently propels them forward. The trio's interplay feels both weightless and deeply rooted _ commanding the listener's attention and empathy without ever forcing it. With Hungry Animal, Luke Temple and the Cascading Moms create a world where reflection becomes rhythm and consciousness gains texture _ a record of quiet revelations and deliberate grace.

‘Clyppan’ is an Old English verb meaning “to embrace” or “to clasp.” It also referred to an ancient ritual in which people gathered in a circle, singing together around a sacred shrine. It’s a fitting title for the latest release from Newcastle’s Smote – a visceral document of the band’s electrifying live set, captured within the walls of London’s Bear Bites Horse recording studio.
Following the release of their acclaimed 2024 album ‘A Grand Stream’, Smote embarked on an intensive tour schedule, refining their live performance along the way into something transcendental – a full-spectrum psychic voyage. Anyone who caught them at Supernormal, Supersonic, or this year’s Roadburn Festival can attest: Smote are an unforgettable sonic presence, a near religious experience.
Recognising the urgency and potency of the band’s current live form, Rocket Recordings encouraged Smote’s founder and sonic architect Dan Foggin to document their live set in the studio. It was a sound too powerful to be left undocumented – it was something that needed to be clasped for future generations.
On January 22, 2025 – the day before their thunderous performance at London’s ICA alongside labelmates Teeth Of The Sea – the four members of Smote entered Bear Bites Horse studio. With producer Wayne Adams at the controls, they laid down a live set brimming with raw, elemental power.
What emerged is ‘Clyppan’ – four drone-and-repetition driven incantations, distilled from the primal essence of Smote’s sound. These tracks channel something ancient and urgent, summoning spirits and revelations in their wake. It’s music as ritual, as invocation – pure aural sorcery.
So gather together. Form a circle. Join hands. And embrace the ecstatic, untamed energy of Smote in their most untethered and primal form.

Originally released on Mon 22 August 2005, the Furries’ third and final album to be recorded by Epic Records, Love Kraft is to be reissued on double vinyl, 2CDs, including the 22-track bonus CD, Kiss Me With Apocalypse and digital formats on Fri 24 October 2025 via the Cardiff-based independent label, Strangetown Records. Four previously unheard tracks are drawn from the vaults, including the squidgy ELO-stomp of drummer, Daf Ieuan-led Rock ‘N’ Roll Flu, plus the distorted space-jam of Cae Marw, the band’s deep-bass sketch of Palo Alto and ghostly, percussive morsel of Bedw Arian.

The album followed six previous albums by the band, including their statement debut album, Fuzzy Logic in 1996, melding an attention-demanding mix of literary, narcotic and musical influences. Maintaining a shape that was ill-fitting in the jigsaw of other 90’s guitar bands, their follow-up, UK Top Ten album, Radiator brought the hooky squelch of the bona fide indie dancefloor classic, The International Language of Screaming. The next decade saw the release of the first Top 20-charting, Welsh language album, Mwng (2000), followed by further experimentation and commercial success with Rings Around The World (2001) and Phantom Power (2003).

Love Kraft’s sense of cohesion, collaboration and free-flow of rich harmony has been credited to the five-piece escaping Wales to record in the shimmering heat of Figueres, Catalunya. Bringing famed Beastie Boys producer, Mario Caldato Jr along with them for the ride, the travelling band’s stay in the Catalonian hometown of Salvador Dali included found sounds, boozy petrol stations, gastronomic revelations and, finally, a rich album of strings, synths and opulent vocal harmonies.

While eventually finding their way to Baha, near to Rio di Janeiro to mix the album Love Kraft’s story began in Wales and Pleasure Foxxx Studios, where the band began to craft the album’s songs. Embracing the landmark of a seventh album, notably coming after the 2004 release of their first ‘best of…’ package, Songbook: The Singles, Vol. 1, Super Furry Animals pooled ideas and affected further democracy in their songwriting, taking a load off traditional lead-writer and front man, Gruff Rhys, and sharing in lead vocal duties (aside from the microphone-averse bassist, Guto Pryce).

Love Kraft was the first Super Furry Animals album recorded to hard disc instead of multi-track tape, and found the band typically explorative and open to happenstance. Zoom’s opening splash into the recording studio’s swimming pool is accompanied by the on-location, pool table samples found elsewhere on the album.

Updated packaging features the original, meticulously built diorama design by long-time collaborator Pete Fowler. Constructed by hand in his studio, complete with bulb-lit illumination, then photographed, the sleeve’s depiction of a monolith-rich desert landscape reflects the sense of other space and time depicted by Love Kraft’s woozy songs. The final sleeve design again comes courtesy of Mark James.

Orange Crush Vinyl. GoldFord writes soul music rooted in truth. His raw, unvarnished songs — equal parts introspection and catharsis — grapple with heartbreak, healing, and the quiet revelations that come with growth and maturity. Raised in St. Louis and now based in L.A., he spent a decade mired in corporate America before a devastating loss cracked something open. Since then, GoldFord has built a devoted following with his emotionally charged vocals and timeless style. His breakout single “Upside Down” offered a first taste of virality, while “Orange Blossoms” — inspired by an illuminating moment of presence under a fruit tree — has surpassed 50 million streams on Spotify alone and earned co-signs from Sam Smith and SZA. Tracks like “Ride the Storm” (33M+ Spotify streams) and “Walk With Me” have found homes in major ad campaigns, film, and TV . But for GoldFord, it’s not about placement: it’s about connection. “This is how I sort through my shit,” he says. “The music reflects back who I am.” With a new record on the way and a festival debut at Austin City Limits looming, he’s stepping into the spotlight, one soul-baring song at a time.

Can a self-portrait be a collage? Can empathy be autobiographical? What's the point of living if we're not trying to understand all the horror and humor that surrounds everything? These are a few of the questions lurking under the bleachers of Wednesday's new album Bleeds, an intoxicating collection of narrative-heavy Southern rock that_like many of the most arresting passages from the North Carolina band's highlight reel so far_thoughtfully explores the vivid link between curiosity and confession. Bleeds is not only the best Wednesday record_it's also the most Wednesday record, a patchwork-style triumph of literary allusions and outlaw grit, of place-based poetry and hair-raising noise. Karly Hartzman_founder, frontwoman, and primary lyricist_credits Wednesday's tightened grasp on their own identity to time spent collaborating on previous albums, plus a tour schedule that's been both rewarding and relentless. "Bleeds is the spiritual successor to Rat Saw God, and I think the quintessential `Wednesday Creek Rock' album," Hartzman said, articulating satisfaction with the ways her band has sharpened its trademark sound, how they've refined the formula that makes them one of the most interesting rock bands of their generation. "This is what Wednesday songs are supposed to sound like," she said. "We've devoted a lot of our lives to figuring this out_and I feel like we did." Just like Rat Saw God, one of the defining rock & roll records of the 2020s so far, Bleeds came together at Drop of Sun in Asheville and was produced by Alex Farrar, who's been recording the band since Twin Plagues. Hartzman again brought demos to the studio, where she and her bandmates _X andy Chelmis (lap steel, pedal steel), Alan Miller (drums), Ethan Baechtold (bass, piano), and Jake "M.J." Lenderman (guitar) _ worked as a team to bulk-up the compositions with the exact right amounts of country truth-telling, indie-pop hooks, and noisy sludge. More than ever, the precise proportions were steered by the lyricism_not only its tone or subject matter, but also the actual sound of the words, as well as Hartzman's masterfully subjective approach to detail selection. Every image or scene is filtered through Hartzman's agile, writerly brain. The particulars deemed essential all contain revelations about Hartzman's specific obsessions and vulnerabilities, about the fragmented way she processes the world. Maybe sometimes the best way to locate truth or pain or dignity within your own life story, Bleeds suggests, is by crawling into someone else's.

Can a self-portrait be a collage? Can empathy be autobiographical? What's the point of living if we're not trying to understand all the horror and humor that surrounds everything? These are a few of the questions lurking under the bleachers of Wednesday's new album Bleeds, an intoxicating collection of narrative-heavy Southern rock that_like many of the most arresting passages from the North Carolina band's highlight reel so far_thoughtfully explores the vivid link between curiosity and confession. Bleeds is not only the best Wednesday record_it's also the most Wednesday record, a patchwork-style triumph of literary allusions and outlaw grit, of place-based poetry and hair-raising noise. Karly Hartzman_founder, frontwoman, and primary lyricist_credits Wednesday's tightened grasp on their own identity to time spent collaborating on previous albums, plus a tour schedule that's been both rewarding and relentless. "Bleeds is the spiritual successor to Rat Saw God, and I think the quintessential `Wednesday Creek Rock' album," Hartzman said, articulating satisfaction with the ways her band has sharpened its trademark sound, how they've refined the formula that makes them one of the most interesting rock bands of their generation. "This is what Wednesday songs are supposed to sound like," she said. "We've devoted a lot of our lives to figuring this out_and I feel like we did." Just like Rat Saw God, one of the defining rock & roll records of the 2020s so far, Bleeds came together at Drop of Sun in Asheville and was produced by Alex Farrar, who's been recording the band since Twin Plagues. Hartzman again brought demos to the studio, where she and her bandmates _X andy Chelmis (lap steel, pedal steel), Alan Miller (drums), Ethan Baechtold (bass, piano), and Jake "M.J." Lenderman (guitar) _ worked as a team to bulk-up the compositions with the exact right amounts of country truth-telling, indie-pop hooks, and noisy sludge. More than ever, the precise proportions were steered by the lyricism_not only its tone or subject matter, but also the actual sound of the words, as well as Hartzman's masterfully subjective approach to detail selection. Every image or scene is filtered through Hartzman's agile, writerly brain. The particulars deemed essential all contain revelations about Hartzman's specific obsessions and vulnerabilities, about the fragmented way she processes the world. Maybe sometimes the best way to locate truth or pain or dignity within your own life story, Bleeds suggests, is by crawling into someone else's.

After a two-year hiatus from recording, the OC based band reconvened in 2023, returning to where it all started: drummer Lucas Ovalle"s garage. It was in this familiar environment that Ovalle, guitarist lead singer Josiah, guitarist Corbin Jacques,and bassist Seth Thomson learned how to be friends again and shared all the anxieties and revelations they"d endured on hiatus through crafting songs. The 13 songs that make up Big Smile are the band"s emotional champions that track the tumultuous period between the start of their break and the peace they found on their way back to each other. In the studio with fellow California legends Rob Schnapf (The Vines, Beck) and Matt Schuessler (Kurt Vile, Cat Power), GREER grew up again, taking more ownership over their sound and learning to speak producer-ese. Big Smile is the sound of a band exorcising their demons, learning to trust themselves, and asserting themselves with newfound earnestness and maturity. It"s the sound of a band that"s fallen in love with rocking out again. It"s the sound of friends rediscovering each other and the magic that they can create together when they embrace each other"s vulnerable side. With Big Smile, GREER has arrived as a serious, and seriously fun, alt rock band with diversity of sound and unity of vision.

Domenique Dumont’s fourth album, Deux Paradis, arrives like the three that came before it – with an air of mystery and wonder. This is dance music for inner worlds – rituals, revelations and reveries.
Deux Paradis is a ten-track song cycle that leads the listener through the rhythm of a day, the bloom and fade of a relationship, or even the stages of a life.

It begins with a song about waking up – the candy-striped dub of “Enchantia” – and traces the sun’s arc with the pixelated reggae of “La Vie Va” and the sensuous rush of “Amants Ennemis”. As night falls, the songs take on a twilight quality in the
shimmering pop of “The Order of Invisible Things” and the seductive pulse of “Visages Visages” (a subtle nod to the Desireless classic). There’s also the baroque swoon of “Deux Paradis” and the soft exotica of “Visiteur de la Nuit”. Bolder and richer than before, it’s vintage Domenique Dumont – timeless and romantic, yet laced with an unplaceable sense of longing, like in an Éric Rohmer film. After the instrumental film score People On Sunday (Leaf, 2020) – composed solo by Arturs Liepins – singer Anete Stuce returns to Domenique Dumont, bringing her inimitable joie de vivre. Deux Paradis completes a trilogy of releases alongside Comme Ça (2015) and Miniatures De Auto Rhythm (2018) on the Antinote label.

Deux Paradis was composed, arranged and between 2022 and the end of 2024 in studios in Riga and Paris, and on the Estonian island of Hiiumaa.

Multi-instrumentalist producer and songwriter Barney Keen makes music for the long drive and nature"s embrace; influenced by a dynamic range of styles including Brazilian MPB, experimental electronic music, folk and soul. Harbinger, his 10-track debut album, is a cinematic journey exploring imagination, revelations of the day-to-day and life itself; landing via London"s Touching Bass.

Depth.Request presents Lllneas' debut album, Buried Stories, a powerful 7-track odyssey through life's darkest shadows and most enlightening revelations.
This collection of works traces its origins back to 2018 when the concept of Lllneas was born. Long before the music was written, the idea and name carried the promise of an eventual catharsis, a release that would embody the untold stories and emotional complexities of its creator.
Each composition on Buried Stories weaves a vivid tapestry of experiences, shaped by contemporary events and echoes from the past. With remarkable intensity, Lllneas channels the raw emotions they evoke, transforming music into a catalyst for healing, reflection, and understanding. More than an album, Buried Stories is an unapologetic and honest expression of survival, self-acceptance, and transformation; a tribute to those who feel out of place, offering hope and validation to embrace their unique perspectives. This release marks a moment of liberation, a turning point that sheds light on an issue that deeply resonates with Lllneas: the devastating realities of domestic violence. The artist calls for courage, awareness, and immediate action, urging people to break free from cycles of abuse and fear.

Let Buried Stories inspire you to confront the untold and find freedom in your own truth.

Rilo Kiley was born from hunger, from the insatiable desire to write one’s own story. The band’s origins can be traced back to Los Angeles in the late 1990s, when Jenny Lewis and Blake Sennett discovered a shared songwriting obsession and began performing together. After some starts and stops, a band was formed with Pierre “Duke” de Reeder playing bass. They called themselves Rilo Kiley, borrowing a name that came to Sennett in a dream.

For their second record, Rilo Kiley headed to Nebraska to record with Bright Eyes’ Mike Mogis alongside new drummer Jason Boesel. Here, Lewis truly becomes a generational songwriter, spinning interior mysteries regarding romance, depression, trauma, hope, and isolation into cathartic revelations. The Execution of All Things was a triumphant arrival.

Originally released in 2002, the celebrated and beloved album The Execution of All Things is a hallmark of indie rock. Hailed by fans and critics alike as an essential component to any record collection.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

After a 30-year interstellar silence, the enigmatic producer Alien Signal—pioneering alias of Italian electronic composer Alex Silvi—reemerges with Whispers from Distant Suns, a transcendent odyssey that bridges retro-futurism and modern electronica. Hailed as a magnum opus, this album transcends genre boundaries, captivating ambient purists, downtempo aficionados, and even experimental listeners with its hypnotic fusion of analog warmth and digital precision.

Cosmic Tapestry of Sound
Drawing comparisons to Vangelis’ Antarctica and Alpha—but reimagined through a 21stcentury lens—Whispers from Distant Suns marries nostalgic synth textures with cuttingedge production. Silvi’s mastery of melody shines through in tracks like “Stardust
Memories” and “Fragile Eden” where shimmering arpeggios and celestial pads drift over robotic, glitch-infused drum patterns and sparse, meditative percussion. The result is a paradox: a retro-futuristic soundscape that feels simultaneously ancient and alien, familiar yet unexplored.

Listener Testimonials
Fans and critics have flooded forums with praise:

“An auditory revelation! It’s like Vangelis met Jon Hopkins in a nebula—vintage soul with a futuristic heartbeat.”
“The textures are gorgeously cinematic. Closing your eyes, you’re adrift in a Tarkovsky film scored for the Andromeda galaxy.”

The Vinyl Experience
Pressed on heavyweight vinyl, the album’s physical release amplifies its immersive qualities. The gatefold sleeve, adorned with surrealist astrophotography and metallic
foiling, mirrors the music’s cosmic ethos. Side A leans into Balearic serenity, with sundappled grooves and aquatic synth ripples, while Side B delves into darker, more
experimental terrain—think Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works colliding with the organic rhythms of Jon Hopkins.

Maturity in Motion
This album is a testament to Silvi’s evolution. Tracks like “Seeds Of Light” and “Message from Andromeda Galaxy” showcase his refined ear for dynamics, balancing silence and sound with surgical precision. Vintage drum machines spar with glitches, while field recordings of crashing waves and interstellar static blur the line between Earth and cosmos. The closing track, “The Star Charts We Shared” crescendos into a 6-minute ambient requiem, leaving listeners suspended in a state of weightless awe.

Final Transmission
Whispers from Distant Suns is more than an album—it’s a transcendent odyssey. Spanning time, space, and the artist’s own creative evolution, this immersive work invites listeners to lose themselves in its ebb and flow. Designed for moments both intimate and expansive, its balearic-tinged atmospheres resonate equally through dawnlit Mediterranean terraces or the solitary glow of headphones in darkness. These are compositions that pulse, morph, and haunt the air long after the final note fades. A living soundscape meant to accompany life’s quiet revelations and clandestine joys—a soundtrack to your most personal moments, crafted as what the artist calls ‘private dance music.’

Tailored for the Discerning Listener
Whispers from Distant Suns is designed with the true connoisseur in mind. This album is a must-have for:

Vinyl Collectors & Audiophiles: Those who value the warmth and tactile experience of heavyweight, limited edition pressings
Electronic Ambient and Downtempo Fans: Listeners who appreciate immersive soundscapes that merge retro analog charm with modern digital innovation.
Retro-Futurism Enthusiasts: Fans of pioneering artists like Vangelis, Boards of Canada, and early Warp Records who seek music that bridges nostalgic synth textures with futuristic experimentation.
Experimental Music Explorers: Individuals drawn to sonic narratives that invite deep, contemplative listening—perfect for both introspective moments and immersive listening sessions.
This release is not just an album; it’s a curated experience for those who desire music as a multidimensional art form, merging the vintage allure of analog sound with a contemporary, cosmic vision.

For fans of: Vangelis, Biosphere, Jon Hopkins, early Warp Records.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Lucien Kimono fully composed the original soundtrack for Season 2 of Amours Solitaires, which aired on Arte and France TV in November.

Initially a popular Instagram account before becoming a French Euphoria-style drama, the series follows the romantic wanderings of its young protagonists. From ultra-modern synthetic arpeggios to warm, nostalgic Rhodes melodies, 18 tracks map out their joys, sorrows, and orgasms.

The Durutti Column, Linda Perhacs, Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Judee Sill. Hello and welcome to Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking, the new record by Lina Tullgren. It is a deeply gorgeous intervention, a carefully ornamented dilemma, the most inviting crisis. Made with a host of Los Angeles musicians, Decide exposes Tullgren's daring and trust. Each song is a ring of curious sound: the skip of harp strings, the flutter of woodwinds, the ratchet of percussion, the euphonium's sigh. And at the center of each wreath, Tullgren sings, finding this space between Judee Sill and Sam Jayne. It's a tone that signals weariness, but a weariness hand-in-hand with tenacity. There's a clarity, a kind of immovability. Lina Tullgren's first record came in 2016, a homemade, under-the-skin set of laments. Subsequent LPs and constant touring cemented Tullgren's reputation as a composer of "wide-eyed wonder paired with a resonant despair." 2019's Free Cell showed Tullgren lingering in the margins of their songs, finding places both aloof and spare. Floodgates opened; Tullgren spent the subsequent years exploring deep listening, improvised music, and extended technique. They developed a patience and faith in cooperation that ranged at the far edge of song. Collaborations with Mayo Thompson and Claire Rousay furthered this development. This was not a break with the past for Tullgren, rather it was an opportunity to see how far a song could go. And from that distance, deep in a landscape of drone and tension, Tullgren returned to the bright vulnerability of a lyric and a hook. Weaving together the affective and the radical, Tullgren took the quiet isolation of a shoreline cabin to write the songs that would become Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking. For Tullgren, Decide is a culmination of all the work they've done throughout their life: the melodic, the dense, the confessional, the unknowable. It's also a tribute to collaboration. Describing the sessions as having "a lot of space and a lot of ease,"" Tullgren invited musicians from a vast field of songmaking to play on the recording: Leng Bian, Zach Burba, Luke Csehak, Corey Fogel, Jenny Hirons, Tara Milch, Tim Ramsey, Michael Sachs, Jude Tedaldi, Marta Tiesenga and Ben Varian. Jonny Kosmo's backhouse was offered as a cozy, easygoing space for the players to create their parts together, and the record was completed by Tullgren and Luke Csehak together at their Los Angeles home. In Tullgren's words: "I feel really strongly that this album is a portrait of the community I found in Los Angeles." Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking is a quiet masterpiece: a generous, memorable journey. It is the result of five years of labor, the product of abandoning the pop song entirely and starting over. Whatever wanderings or doubt fueled it, Decide is also entirely at ease: a record on which Tullgren sings "and I know/what to do now" and "I know exactly what to do" in subsequent songs, clear in the revelations this path has given the

This Is DJs Choice Vol. 4 brings you a great selection of Funk, Soul, Latin and Hip Hop.

Five years after the last installment of the series, Volume 4 is compiled by Gu, a long-time friend and DJ partner of Unique label founder Henry Storch, and the tracks represent the two decades they have known each other and played records together, as well as the music they enjoyed.

All choices are originally 7 Inch records from Gu's crates put together like a DJ-Set for you to enjoy: The Soul of The Sweet Vandals and Carlton Jumel Smith, the Deep Funk of Naomi Davis & The Knights Of Forty First Street, The Supersonics and Sharon Jackson & The Soul Destroyers, the Latin sounds of Diesler and Eli Goulart E Banda Do Mato and the Hip Hop grooves of Jay Are (aka J.Rawls and John Robinson), The Bamboos featuring Ohmega Watts and Daddy-O of Stetsasonic.

This compilation is a celebration of music from beginning to end.

About This Is DJs Choice:

The series started as a friendship project by Henry Storch, who wanted to immortalise friends and allies from the DJ scene, who picked vinyl as their format of choice. The genre didn't matter, as long as the vibe was right. In 2008 Vol. 1 featured a selection of organic Club Sounds and Break Beats put together by Soulinus & Pun, followed by Keb Darge & Lucinda Slim and their favorite Rhythm & Blues, Rockabilly and 60s Soul tunes on Vol. 2 in 2009. In 2019 Les Intouchables aka Marc Hype and DJ Suspect presented a variety of funky and soulful music with an addition of the occasional Boogie, Reggae and Hip Hop track.

About Gu:

Gu is a DJ, musician, label owner, producer, writer and producer from Northern Germany. His dedication to music started in his pre-teens in the late eighties and he is playing vinyl ever since. Over the years he has worked with a number of his favorite DJs and artists like Keb Darge, Andy Smith, Snowboy, The New Mastersounds, Osaka Monaurail, The Sweet Vandals, The Allergies, Andy Cooper of Ugly Duckling, Daddy-O of Stetsasonic and Chuck D of Public Enemy to name a few. His DJ career took him all over Europe again and again.

In 2005 he started Our Label Records with his brother Tom to release new Funk music on 7 Inch vinyl and added the Hip Hop 45 imprint Origu in 2015. Since 2009 and he is on air every week with his radioshow Home Diggin', which was also picked up by Chuck D's Rapstation in 2019. Additionally he is lead singer/rapper for the Songcore duo Sorry We're Closed and the Hip Hop outfit Alder Ego. He also does readings of his book of one-liners and competing on Slam Poetry stages.

2024 Re-Edition

Strangelove's personal Inventory of NZ 1980's odd pop; 'Kiwi Animals' recasts the local charts in a parallel universe of misfit melodics, gonzo-tronics & strange waves. Channelling South Pacific voodoo and edge of world melancholia, the album highlights electronic tangents from iconic NZ groups Blam Blam Blam & Headless Chickens. It dredges the cassette revelations of art avante-gardists' Drone & Kim Blackburn, alongside bittersweet moments from Rupert & Norma O'Malley. There's the infectious minimal wave of Ballare and a reprised electro-boogie dance suite (?!) from Tom Ludvigson & Graeme Gash. The furthest depths of Flying Nun's catalog are also plundered- a brilliant earworm from Stiff Herbert and a mysterious "Roger" Knox birthday promo. Mining disparate seams of a local indie label awakening, the various tangents of 'Kiwi Animals' congeal with a future/primitive sensibility and an underlying Antipodean mischievousness…

"Mountain Music is Nina Nesbitt as fans have never heard her before. Having risen to fame at a young age with her disarming, candid pop – the Scottish musician is now found in an entirely new realm. It is inspired in part by the two years she spent touring the States in support of her second studio album: the critically acclaimed Top 40, The Sun Will Come Up, The Seasons Will Change, which has now accrued over a billion streams. These songs are permeated with gorgeous nods to US folk and Americana. It’s made all the more extraordinary by the face that, not long ago, Nesbitt was considering quitting music altogether. Produced by Peter Miles and Nesbitt, mixed and mastered by Miles at his stunning studio MiddleFarm in south Devon, and released via her own label, Apple Tree Records. A playful nod to her 2012 debut EP, TheApple Tree, this marks the start of an exciting new era for Nina Nesbitt. While it might sound strange that Nesbitt was drawn to the music of Appalachia, heard echoing through the vast, verdant mountain ranges of the eastern United States, it makes more sense when you consider how traditional Scottish ballads and hymns are threads in that rich tapestry.

Empathy is one of Nesbitt’s greatest strengths. We hear it on “Painkiller”, a Joni Mitchell-indebted ballad on which her heart breaks for the men who believe they have to suppress their own feelings. One of the album’s standout qualities is, perhaps, the dynamic that Nesbitt creates from one song to the next. Where many folk artists might lean into quiet introspection, she craves the full spectrum of emotion – so ensconced around “Painkiller” you have the tender “On the Run’, with its distant shivers of percussion and crystalline piano, but also “Anger”. She’s in a nostalgic mood on the rousing “Coming Home”, a Springsteen-inspired, driving-with-the-top-down journey back to the places and people she loves. We all lose ourselves sometimes. The trick is learning how to find our way back, pushing those clouds away to see the blue skies beyond. For artist Nina Nesbitt, hard-hitting truths and revelations take precedent on her remarkable, career-best album, Mountain Music. Nesbitt knows exactly who she is, and now, she’s ready to tell the world."

Italian-Austrian sound poet & vocalist NicoNote (Music From Memory, Mille Plateaux,Rizosfera, Rough Trade) presents new album ‘REGOLA’ A suite in nine movements inspired by the mythic medieval composer Hildegard von Bingen (1098-1179) (RIYL Björk, Anohni, Meredith Monk, Elizabeth Fraser, Lena Platonos, Anna Caragnano & Donato Dozzy) An ambitious, conceptual work of hypnotic, immersive electronics & transcendent, experimental vocals, exploring the enduring influence of the polymathic German saint & philosopher.

Nine visionary and ritualistic soundscapes harnessing the voice as an instrument of transcendent expressive power; a visceral, timeless exploration of human nature. ‘REGOLA’ (Italian for ‘RULE’) is a record that calls for a contemplative form of deep listening, a time-dilating experience in which the polyphonic voices of NicoNote ascend, opening up a portal into an archaic, eternal past, where lost sounds coalesce with future revelations.

"Even God Has A Sense Of Humor" is the long-awaited follow up album to Maxo's critically acclaimed 2019 release Lil Big Man. Across the 14-tracks, Even God Has A Sense Of Humor pays tribute to the mercurial nature of life and includes features from Liv.e, keiyaA, LastNameDavid, and Melanie Charles along with the previously released singles "Free!," produced by Dev Morrison and "48," produced by Madlib and featuring Pink Siifu. The FADER recently sat down with Maxo to discuss the album, which they described as having "a defiant glow, like a bronze statue still standing after an intense tornado."

Born Maxamillian Allen, Even God Has A Sense Of Humor finds Maxo earnest, full-hearted, and lyrically agile. His delivery punches as he poetically unpacks the trials and blessings that have marked the last three years since Lil Big Man, his stirring and meditative debut album. “Life is always gonna be life-ing,” Maxo says, speaking to the spiritual lessons that inspired this new project and an album process that has revealed to him the many ways in which he’s divinely protected.

The album’s striking cover features three casted sculptures of Maxo by legendary NYC-based artist artist John Ahearn, photographed by the rapper’s friend Steven Traylor. The image both preceded the music and set the tone for the record’s overall aura. Experiencing the casting process—which required long periods of stillness for form, and breathwork to avoid claustrophobia—became a metaphor about ego death for Maxo. “I had to go to a space where I was just not there,” he says. As the molding was poured over his body and the voices of those in the room became distant, Maxo’s inner world came into focus. “By the time it hardened, it seemed like the sculpture had risen to be 20 feet above where it was first— almost like it grew tall,” he explains. EGHASOH, in its aural ebbs and flows, honest questioning, profound revelations, and elegant verse, is Maxo standing spiritually tall following a period of challenges with family and friends.

Maxo’s writing process has always been rooted in imagery, observation, and capturing moments. Growing up in Southern California, Maxo spent a lot of time combing through old family photo albums, some of whose contents have become the artwork for prior releases. But his fascination with visual memento is less about nostalgia or remembering, and more about exploring concepts of growth, healing, and cycles. His artistry is intentional and deeply sensitive: “If I’m not feeling it, I’m not gonna record.” While his past records openly grappled with emotional turbulence, anger and depression, EGHASOH is Maxo’s acceptance stage: “I can't really judge nothing. I can't sit up and be mad at shit because everything is, everything is kind of coexisting,” he says.

Musically, EGHASOH is an impressive evolution from Maxo’s earlier, unornamented lo-fi projects. With an emphasis on jazzy instrumentalism and soothing, intricate vocals from both the artist and featured chanteueses Liv.e, Melanie Charles, and keiyaA, EGHASOH is a welcome and beautifully complex sonic effort. Its contributors include a range of musicians: Pink Siifu, LastNameDavid, Madlib, GrayMatter, Karriem Riggins, Beat Butcha, Lance Skiiiwalker, and more. The album was executive produced by Mount Kimbie’s Dom Maker.

“Nobody talks about the fact that we’re changing as we get older... Everybody just acts like you supposed to know,” Maxo says on album standout, “Face of Stone”. It's moody bassline meets a cinematic accordion melody that paradoxically both broods and uplifts—a fitting production choice that mirrors the song’s story. “I’m seeing how this world is chipping you and withering your bones,” Maxo says. “I’m talking about myself, talking about my bro. But it’s never nothing you gonna do that’s a one stop shop in this life. You gotta keep staying diligent and consistent.” For Maxo, Even God Has a Sense of Humor is nothing more than another moment on the timeline of his offerings of self-expression as an artist—one whose sole intention is to, in his words, develop as a human being and heal.

Cryptic Hatred was formed in 2019 by four friends bound together by their mutual passion for music and death metal. In summer 2020 they quickly released their first demo Free from the Grave to positive international feedback. The demo then received a CD release from the US-based Desert Wastelands label, as well as a release in Europe via Finland-based The Other Records. Soon after, the debut album Nocturnal Sickness dropped in early 2022 (again via The Other and Desert Wastelands), elevating the band to even greater standing in the global death metal underground. The feedback was overwhelmingly positive from both the fans and the metal media, highlighting the leaps the band made in terms of both musicianship and songwriting. Nocturnal Sickness sold over 1000 physical copies and streamed over 100 000, with high praise coming from metal press (such as the esteemed US metal magazine Decibel). The songs on Nocturnal Sickness were notably in the vein of classic Florida death metal - but it also had moments of unhinged melody and savagery which highlighted the band's movement towards their own, identifiable sound. "Internal Torment" is a testament to Cryptic Hatred's ability to craft music that speaks to the soul. It is an invitation to explore the shadows within, to confront the demons that lurk in the recesses of the mind. With each listen, new revelations await, making this album a haunting journey of self-discovery. Prepare to be spellbound by the subtle intricacies of "Internal Torment," as Cryptic Hatred invites you to lose yourself in the haunting beauty of their mesmerizing cryptic metal sound.

Søren Skov Orbit's debut album, "Adrift," is at once subtle and profound. The saxophonist and his collaborators have created something quite special and consistently deep. This record may not easily be classifiable, but the most interesting music creeps between the lines

Danish tenor and soprano saxophonist Søren Skov (Debre Damo Dining Orchestra) and keyboardist Peder Vind co-founded the trippy quintet Søren Skov Orbit in 2016 to explore “more jazzy ideas,” as the saxophonist puts it. Joined by a rhythm section steeped in contemporary improvisation and psychedelia, bassist Casper Nyvang Rask, drummer Rune Lohse and percussionist Ayi Solomon of the legendary 80's Ghanaian roots/highlife band Classique Vibes, the Orbit belts out a richly focused helping of broadly African-inspired modern jazz with a hazy sheen.

On the opening “Notifications of Nothingness,” Skov digs in his heels, a steely but languid unspooling of burnished tenor lines atop condensed, quavering piano and the thick footfalls of bass and percussion. As a tenor player, Skov has done his homework and has a kinship with Albert Ayler, Archie Shepp, J.R. Monterose, and the Dutchman Hans Dulfer, but he clearly has got his own robust phraseology and expressiveness. He also cites multi-reedists John Gilmore, Yusef Lateef, and Bilal Abdurahman as, “some of the players I’ve been listening to the most for the last 10-15 years.”

A healthy dose of reverb is present throughout the album, echoing Alton Abraham’s studio wizardry with the Sun Ra Arkestra or the trance-inducing and compressed fidelity of certain Ethio-jazz and Mystic Revelations of Rastafari sessions. Skov notes that, “everything is recorded live at the same time in the same room. I wanted to do it that way in order to catch the dynamics and authenticity of the music.” There is, in fact, a complex teeter- totter between crisp and hazy execution, achieved by a delicately balanced mix that keeps the group’s sound simultaneously advancing and receding. Vind’s phrasing is terse and introspective, a vibrating echo that nudges and reflects on Skov’s brusque tenor in a dance of sonic displacement.

“Orbiting” pits a chunky backbeat and the teetering, taut hand-rhythms of Solomon against an infectious, almost microtonal piano riff, while Skov’s arpeggios are clean and florid as he patiently rises up from under a carpet of funky loops. Following the freer “Reflections of Rif,” “Naration” lilts with a wink at “Footprints” and tugs between up-tempo polyrhythmic drive, clanging keyboard accents, and the innately steadfast keenness of the bandleader. The coupling of Solomon and Lohse is a big part of the group’s detailed energy; as the leader puts it, “Ayi knows everything about regional differences in drum patterns. He is always listening and super responsive, and his and Rune’s dynamics are amazing.” The music both presents a “vibe” and keeps the door open for engaging well under the surface as repeated listens will be extremely rewarding.

Last Summer, Daniel Foggin, guitarist, writer and chief architect of Smote, uprooted himself from his usual home in Newcastle to live and work in a farmhouse in Kelso, near the Scottish border. “Through the summer when I was working up there, myself and Rob (Smote drummer) would finish work and go sit by a small river and have a couple of beers in the sun, and it was the best thing ever” he relates “So I guess the philosophy is that to some people it looks like any other stream, but to us it was supreme happiness.” Hence came the title of the fourth Smote album proper, one largely recorded in this same farmhouse – A Grand Stream. It’s an album that’s the truest incarnation thus far of his vision for this band – a full-scale psychic voyage into the ether and a drone-and-repetition-fuelled series of incantations that takes simple, primal ingredients and utilises them for the purposes of aural sorcery, summoning spectres and revelations aplenty in its wake. Whilst the folk-tinged, ceremonial ambience that Smote have made their trademark is present and correct here, utilising Swedish classic psych heaviness and Swans textures as fuel for the ominous rhythms of ‘Coming Out Of A Hedge Backwards’ and the uplifting cadences of opener ‘Sitting Stone Part 1’, Foggin and his cohorts also waste little time exploring new more eerie and ethereal textures and dimensions. The meditative ‘Chantry’ in particular sees them gravitate towards a headspace akin to the drone-based epiphanies of Kali Malone’s ‘Does Spring Hide Its Joy’ filtered through the transcendent amplifier worship of ‘Earth 2’. A Grand Steam takes this band – one who’ve always eschewed the cliches and stumbling blocks of all contemporary psych rock in favour of their own unique and wyrd vision – into a realm in which they transcend through willpower and skill alike into something preternaturally thrilling, mapping out their own crepuscular new territory Question is; dare you step over the threshold?

Sumer Is Icumen In is Quentin Thirionet's (Dhavali Giri, Pairi Daeza) debut album. Still, his musical escapades are vast and varied, based almost entirely on improvisation and live recordings, of which he occasionally distributes tapes without further information. Elusive to categorization and identification, unwilling to fix his musical activity under a stable pseudonym, his projects have ranged from gypsy jazz guitar swings, French traditional songs from Auvergne, and various experimental collaborations. Increasingly closer to electronic instrumentation, he crafted what Belgian label KRAAK presents here as Maibaum, his first ever solo output. As the title goes, this may be a maypole on which his multicolored sonic visions spring about.

Former rope access worker and currently a farmer of organic greens, Thirionet lives up to these lines of work as a musician. He assembles precisely what seems like a subtle balance between high manmade structures and soft fertilized soils; a high voltage pylon placed in a biotic landscape. It's all an even blend, spontaneous and steady, but this contraption comes from profound considerations. "I chose these tracks among many others," says Quentin, "because I heard the melodies all the time in my mind, and because I cried while playing them without really understanding why."
Armed with nothing more than a blackbox, a sequencer, a freeze pedal, and a tape player, Thirionet orchestrates a vivid rite of polished futures. At times reminiscent of Hans-Joachim Roedelius' enveloping arrangements, Maibaum's ambiances rely on mild repetitive patterns subsequently textured by prickling sprouts, mechanic dislocations and revamps that stoke and brighten the stirring motions. Jim O'Rourke's I'm Happy and I'm Singing comes to mind in terms of its detailed and prismatic nature, but Sumer Is Incumen In has its particular narrative. It's a tale of regeneration, of spring's delicate procedures and allure, a celebration of gracious and fortunate junctions between nature and machinery.

The album unfolds like a massive engine being made flesh to drift along the ether of a sultry land. The terrain turns pleasant and fertile in the title track; the colors and melodies of May start to unravel. Chromatic columns rise and define the scenery's depth of field breeding a synesthetic stream between crystal lights and warbling organisms. Grande Albero Buono Magico Uoma's brisk kaleidoscopic arpeggios sound like scanning a tree's litmus foliage. Then Ciguri takes us back to the foggy swamp of the beginning but is suddenly lit by an insect’s labyrinthine roundabout. The Jeweled Grid is a poem Quanta Qualia's lustrous metallic voice recites as a report of the album's phenomena. "Shiny revelations jump out. Pearls of thought flicker about." Images from within that distill to swirl around among us. The thicket dissolves as the album concludes calmly in Le Concept De Chien N'aboie Pas. Swaying under sieved solar light, leaves and branches tingle until the winds grow weak. All the warm creatures gathered along the way, and all those who danced around the maypole's splendid equilibrium now withdraw, folding up small to foster rebirth once again.

José Badía Berner

Philly heavy-weight OT The Real has been steadily building up his reputation in the game over the last few years, projects with Heatmakerz and DJ Green Lantern have been solidifying his name in the world of underground hip-hop, and this brand new collaboration with veteran Boston native producer Statik Selektah is yet another proof of his relentless work ethic and growth. Featuring guest appearances by Freeway, Merkules and Wallo among others, "Maxed Out" is yet another step up in OT's catalog, setting his path on the way up!

On 1977's Mind Storm, the final album made prior to his emphatic retirement, Burchette employed "pink sound," a phenomenon known in acoustical science to open the mind to thrilling psychic revelations, setting down two side-long pieces forming a reflecting crystal ball for squalls of deep br ain imagery.

On 1977's Mind Storm, the final album made prior to his emphatic retirement, Burchette employed "pink sound," a phenomenon known in acoustical science to open the mind to thrilling psychic revelations, setting down two side-long pieces forming a reflecting crystal ball for squalls of deep br ain imagery.

First forging his DJ craft at underground parties and afters in Southern Brazil, Cauê's deep passion and devotion now resides in all his artistic output. He has built a solid discography spanning the likes of reputable imprints such as Affin, KVLTÖ, Circular Limited and most recently with his own project Ogan Records. In recent years, his active membership of London's budding deep techno scene has helped Cauê to garner his reputation as a highly consistent and prolific producer.

We're delighted to honour Cauê's love of the physical medium with a limited run of vinyl, pressed on 140g black vinyl in Italy and presented in a beautiful matte sleeve. Those who have followed Cauê's work will have observed the thematic constants of mysticism and theology that are woven throughout. Revelations is a brooding work of atmospheric techno. Reprobation opens the A Side with a deep sense of foreboding - a warning perhaps - before three cuts of raw and tunnelling techno that are both delicately introspective and wickedly hypnotic. Rapture is the audial equivalent of sunbeams breaking through the very blackest of storms, a beautifully melancholic piece that can only exist where darkness came before. World To Come closes the B Side with the eschatological sentiment of the wonders that await in the new age.

2LP Soundtrack for UbiSoft video game in the Avatar series on Translucent Blue & Pink Vinyl Set after the events of the first Avatar film, you’ll embark on a journey across the Western Frontier, a never-before-seen continent of Pandora, as you join other Na’vi clans to protect Pandora from the formidable forces of the RDA. Created in collaboration with Disney and James Cameron’s production company, Lightstorm Entertainment, you will experience a first-person open-world action-adventure game exclusively developed to maximize the power of new-gen consoles and PC. Abducted by the human militaristic corporation known as the RDA, you, a Na’vi, were trained and molded to serve their purpose. Fifteen years later, you are free, but find yourself a stranger in your birthplace. Reconnect with your lost heritage, discover what it truly means to be Na’vi, and join other clans to protect Pandora from the RDA.

On 'Mirror, Reflect,' Amy O returns to form as she documents her transition into motherhood in the early days of the pandemic. Initially conceived as a lo-fi endeavor to record songs made with friends in those days of uncertainty, 'Mirror, Reflect' is an intimate and exploratory work that weaves collected home and field recordings with shimmering synths and Oelsner's playful lyricism. A stalwart presence in the indie-pop underground since 2012, Oelsner shifted her approach to record making on 'Mirror, Reflect' to emphasize process over product, with the resulting songs born out of a myriad of home sessions, song-a-day projects, songwriting workshops and online collaborations. This kind of patchwork, home-spun approach was familiar to Oelsner, who made her name with her sparkling, homemade pop songs before releasing three studio albums, including her most recent album, 2019's Shell. 'Mirror, Reflect' gently shrugs off the sheen of those studio albums, as an early prenatal recording of Oelsner's daughter's heartbeat opens the record in the near-ambient instrumental prelude of "Honey" -- a wonderfully nuanced dispatch from the dog days of summer that's under-bellied by both the precarity and beauty of the early months of infancy and new motherhood. Oelsner's knack for finding magic in the mundane is also deeply apparent on "Dribble Dribble," where the stick-with-you nature of the playful rhyme schemes of the children's books that became a regular part of her literary intake are worked into a lilting reflection on resilience, destruction and loss. Oelsner's initiation into motherhood is inseparable from the poetic heart of 'Mirror, Reflect', but the album is also largely informed by the shifts in Oelsner's relationship to herself. Through playful and emotionally acute observations, Amy O turns the potentially contractive experiences of motherhood, isolation, family and aging into a freewheeling work where ephemerality and humor collide over her deft lyrical phrasing, musicality and her keen observations turned poetic revelations.

AMEN is the 3rd release by bassoonist / composer / producer Joy Guidry. Representing a major ste up in her ability to fully realize and embody a sound and concept, AMEN moves from rousing, rafter-splitting spiritual jazz and gospel compositions to ambient compositions that create a powerfu statement of communal healing and peace. The album features contributions by Niecy Blues, Kalia Vandever, Tyrone Allen and Jessie Cox.

Born in 1977, in Malang, East Java, Wukir Suryadi began playing music for theatre at the age of 12 with the Idiot The-ater Studio, and later with the Rendra Theater Workshop. In his solo work, and as a member of Senyawa, Error Scream, Bendera Hitam Setengah, Potro Joyo and other groups, Wukir breaks the boundaries of traditional music, death metal and avant-garde performance. On this new release, “Cycle and Prayer,” recorded in 2023, he expands the edges of his unique artistic world further, by digging in to meditative improvisation, art, and community building in his home workshop in the mountains of central Java. These recordings vibrate inwards, toward the microcosmic ecologies of forests and rivers; they distort outwards, resonating with global waves of apocalyptic change that are forcing all living beings to the edges of existence on earth. The result is a meditative poem that moves, as its titles an-nounce, from phenomena to phenomena, praying that humans find a way out from the depths of the depths to the light that illuminates the soul.
An essential mode of creative work for Wukir is the creation of unique instruments, using these sound sources as “bullets of expression.” In addition to the spear-like tube zither Bambu Wukir, he has created the Solet, Enthong, Garu, Luku, Arrows, and Industrial Mutant instruments, which in addition to being used in live performance, have been exhibited in the Instrument Builders Project and the 2017 Jakarta Biennale. In the past few years, Wukir has begun to collaborate with local guitar makers, carpenters, and suppliers of native endemic wood in the mountain region of Salatiga. Using earthen bricks along with local woods (suren, coconut, mindi, and waru lengis) as building materials, he constructed a new studio and workshop space in Tingkir, where this album was made. The trees, water and air of the local environment have exerted a powerful influence in Wukir’s documentations of instrumental sound. On this recording, he uses the simple Cetta guitar, an instrument designed in Bali and made for Indonesian children and local communities of folk and popular musicians, in order to explore the different sonic characteristics of a more “normal” instrument built from local wood.
The themes of the album -- cycle and prayer -- arise from a foreboding series of meta-events that shook Indonesia and the world over the past years, following one after the other: the COVID-19 pandemic, the Ukrainian-Russian war, the Kanjuruhan Stadium tragedy in which football supporters were gassed and killed by police, revelations of govern-ment failures and corruption, the rise of personal vehicles, the increasing disturbance of natural patterns of the rainy season and other ecological cycles. “In these waves of technology and narratives of truth made for certain interests, playing a sound at a certain frequency and repeating can try to bring images and feelings to a certain point of con-sciousness,” Wukir told me. “Sound is a prayer that creates a change, whether gradual or rapid, in the behaviour of living things, to face the demands of the time, as humans struggle to live according to what they believe.” The draw-ings and sketches used for the cover spontaneously emerged alongside the recordings, as an instinctive depiction of “time and sound, nature that is outside of oneself, and nature that is within.”

About S. Raekwon & Steven "Steven is the sound of me holding a mirror up to and critically reflecting on who I am: the good, the bad, the ugly. It's about trying to understand the multitudes within me." - S. Raekwon Steven Raekwon Reynolds performs as S. Raekwon, but his second LP is simply called Steven. Across ten tracks of furious and subtly strumming guitars, plodding bass riffs, and whispering revelations, S. Raekwon's newest album strips back sonic and personal layers to present his most vulnerable, yet authentic self. Born in Buffalo and now based in the East Village of New York City, Steven wrote, produced, engineered, and mixed everything on the record, in addition to playing every instrument except the drums. He packed up a rental car with all his gear and returned to his fiancée's parents' home in Southern Illinois, where they rode out the pandemic and where he recorded half of Where I'm at Now. The house proved to be a nontraditional recording space, but one that provided plenty of physical space as well as spiritual room for experimentation. Steven and drummer Mario Malachi, longtime friends since their days at college in Cleveland, Ohio, spent a week in July 2023 transforming the living room into a makeshift studio, rearranging furniture, sitting face-to-face in front of a mic, and taping songs in single takes. It was a new way of working together, with no demoing or pre-production; Mario hadn't even heard the songs before getting there, which created a sense of spontaneity and improvisation. Where his debut explored his past - longing for a connection to his father and the Black side of his family and wrestling with his identity while being raised in a household by a single, white mother - Steven looks inward. Steven is loosely structured in three parts: Part 1 is fast and energetic, exploring the concepts of rage, anger, jealousy. Part 2 is slow and dynamic, with themes of ugliness, disappointment, embarrassment. Part 3 is something gentler, a moment of contentment and clarity. Steven is a portrait of strengths and weaknesses, flaws and fulfillments.

Returning after three years with their second studio album, Double Dog Dare, WHITE DOG have been revelling in a state of creative flux and are poised to share their revelations with the world. Formed in 2015 in Austin, Texas, White Dog began with a shared vision of blazing, fuzzed-out rock that drew gleefully from their home city's rich cultural melting pot. Emboldened by an us-against-the-world gang mentality and inspired by everything from dusty roots rock to explosive old school prog, the band's self-titled album emerged in 2021, courtesy of natural home Rise Above Records, and immediately stood out as a sophisticated, earthy and characterful new strain of retro rambunctiousness.
Recorded over a period of eight days at Stuart Sikes Audio (with engineer Andrew McCalla) in Austin, Double Dog Dare takes all of the debut album's deftly assembled ingredients and allows them to fly free, liberated from expectation. At times mellower than its predecessor, at others strident and ferocious, these new songs showcase White Dog's organic development, with elements of everything from wistful southern rock to crusty-eyed jazz rock finding a place. Somehow even more fluid and fiery than before, this band are growing and expanding before our ears.
Now free to peddle their incendiary wares, they return to the stage with their strongest material to date, and a newfound enthusiasm for giving The Riff the respect and imagination it deserves.

Returning after three years with their second studio album, Double Dog Dare, WHITE DOG have been revelling in a state of creative flux and are poised to share their revelations with the world. Formed in 2015 in Austin, Texas, White Dog began with a shared vision of blazing, fuzzed-out rock that drew gleefully from their home city's rich cultural melting pot. Emboldened by an us-against-the-world gang mentality and inspired by everything from dusty roots rock to explosive old school prog, the band's self-titled album emerged in 2021, courtesy of natural home Rise Above Records, and immediately stood out as a sophisticated, earthy and characterful new strain of retro rambunctiousness.
Recorded over a period of eight days at Stuart Sikes Audio (with engineer Andrew McCalla) in Austin, Double Dog Dare takes all of the debut album's deftly assembled ingredients and allows them to fly free, liberated from expectation. At times mellower than its predecessor, at others strident and ferocious, these new songs showcase White Dog's organic development, with elements of everything from wistful southern rock to crusty-eyed jazz rock finding a place. Somehow even more fluid and fiery than before, this band are growing and expanding before our ears.
Now free to peddle their incendiary wares, they return to the stage with their strongest material to date, and a newfound enthusiasm for giving The Riff the respect and imagination it deserves.