Cerca:the shroud

"I wanted to travel / Home into somewhere,"Ana Roxanne breathes across an eerie suspended drone on "The Age of Innocence". "I wanted to try / And go very far." These are the first words we hear on Poem 1 and reintroduce an artist who's in a conspicuously different phase of her life than she was when her debut album, Because of a Flower, sprouted nearly six years ago.

Heartbroken and reflective, Roxanne surveys the transformations that followed and displays a new-found boldness. Her voice is naked, vulnerable and alive, no longer shrouded in tape noise or looped and echoed beyond recognition beneath layered electroacoustic textures.

Throughout the course of Poem 1, Roxanne displays her skill as a singer and songwriter in the classic sense, using the limited instrumentation simply to accent her exposed tones. Muted piano phrases and plucked bass notes languidly trail her anguished siren song on "Berceuse in A-flat Minor, Op. 45", making each word count.

On "Keepsake" meanwhile, she sounds as if she's alone in an abandoned bar, stroking the dust off the piano's keys as she inventories her emotional scars. There's a smell of old whisky in the air, but Poem 1 is a remarkably sober album; never wallowing in self pity, Roxanne finds catharsis in the logic of her expressions, twisting out the edges of her memories into surreal, cinematic asides. "Untitled II", the album's pronounced, uninhibited centerpiece, delivers on the Lynchian promise that's been present since her first EP, 2019's ~~~. "

And when she interprets the Robert Schumann's lied "Stille Tränen" on "One Shall Sleep", she turns Justinus Kerner's words into a whispered echo of her own grief, narrating the 19th century poem over syrupy synthesizers and strings. There's a light emerging on the horizon, though; burying her past on the choral standout '"Cover Me", Roxanne shifts the pace and the mood on 'Atonement', lifting her voice into a gentle lilt.

Reissue of the highly-regarded 2003 live album by Canadian technical death metal masters Cryptopsy. Capturing a crushing 2002 Montreal performance featuring their then-new vocalist Martin Lacroix and a career-spanning setlist including tracks from None So Vile, Blasphemy Made Flesh, and Whisper Supremacy, showcasing incredible energy, technicality, and a notable drum solo by Flo Mounier. It's considered by many fans to be a definitive live death metal album, representing their best material from previous albums in one powerful recording.

Shrouded in myth and working quietly at the edges of modern composition, the enigmatic Anichy & Lyemn announces the release of their newest recording on the esteemed Swiss imprint Fabrique d'Instruments—a new label championing radical, visionary sound.
This deeply affecting work unfurls as a meditation on impermanence, memory, and the slow unravelling of time. Across its extended movements, they create a sound world that is at once symphonic in scale and intimate in breath, echoing the aching resonance of William Basinski’s The Disintegration Loops, the spectral drift of The Caretaker, and the luminous stillness of Gavin Bryars.

Strings sigh, distant sounds dissolve, and tape-worn melodies return like half-remembered dreams. It is music that feels remembered more than heard—a fragile architecture built from erosion, decay, and the stubborn persistence of beauty.
Adding to its mystique, the record features previously unheard collaborations with a legendary British minimalist composer, whose identity remains deliberately withheld. These rare sessions—long thought lost to time—reveal the artist exploring harmonic minimalism with a disarming tenderness, the composer’s unmistakable signature woven delicately through Anichy & Lyemn’s drifting orchestral shadows.

At a moment when the world feels increasingly unmoored, this record arrives as a quiet monument to what slips away, and what remains.
Artist is available for very limited interviews.

In an engrossing lattice of polyrhythmic beat science and deep atmospheric meditation, Samurai Music is thrilled to welcome Marco Shuttle to the fold for the Sumud EP.

Since his early years locked into the 00s London techno scene, Marco Sartorelli has developed as an artist entirely on his own terms. Through the rush of new ideas and cross-pollination that has characterised cutting-edge techno over the past 20-odd years, Sartorelli has travelled as Marco Shuttle from one considered stylistic concept to the next. On his own Eerie label and across expansive releases for respected outposts such as Spazio Disponibile, Incensio and Astral Industries, he's taken an exploratory approach to rhythm and spatial design while always drawing on intentional thematic frameworks, creating distinctive and immersive dance music in the process.

As Samurai Music continues to celebrate the rich seams of inspiration where deep techno and drum & bass intersect, Sartorelli's malleable, mysterious strain of drum work fits right in and sets a captivating tone for the label's operations in 2026. 'Sumud' is a steely drum mantra dealing in fractured patterns with the primal patina of the early Artificial Intelligence era, while 'Las Dunas de Taroa' leans on gently pulsing melancholia undulating at a half-time pace. 'Iso 50' taps into raw, analogue minimalism once more, evoking the sound of Roman Flugel's Ro70 records in their icy, alien formation. Completing the set, we're guided towards the tense electronica of 'Polylayering What I've Got', where uneasy melodic chimes interlock with intricately programmed drum machines.

There's a distinct sense of golden-era, mid-90s electronica coursing through Sumud EP, but Sartorelli shrouds the classic tools at his disposal in his subtle signature atmospherics, pushing towards a plain of expression that transcends time.

Rising from Warsaw’s underground, Infernal Flame conjure a bleak and uncompromising vision on their debut full-length The Grave. Originally self-released digitally on February 13, 2025, the album now sees its first physical incarnation through Apostasy Records - soon available on CD, vinyl and cassette. Across nine tracks, the Polish quartet fuse the weight of cavernous death metal with the scorched atmosphere of black metal, forging a sound that feels both raw and deliberate - a ritual equal parts feral energy and fatal precision. From the slow-grinding opener “Dreadead” through the tar-soaked menace of “Cauldron of Black Tar,” the feverish descent of the title track and the final farewell of “Godbye,” The Grave unfolds like a single, unbroken passage through dread and decay. Formed in 2024 and operating deliberately outside the label system, Infernal Flame channel a rehearsal-room immediacy that recalls the early second-wave spirit while carving out a distinctly modern darkness. Still largely unreviewed and shrouded in underground obscurity, The Grave stands as an intense and authentic statement - from a band intent on burning their own path through Poland’s black/death scene.

The word "amateur" originates from the Latin word "amator," meaning "lover" or "admirer". This Latin term is derived from "amare," which means "to love". The French adopted "amateur" from Latin, and the English then borrowed it from French, initially retaining the sense of someone who loves or is devoted to something. Over time, the English usage of "amateur" also developed a meaning related to a lack of professional skill or experience. How did a word derived from love become a slur? Is love really so defenseless? They say love conquers all, but in reality isn’t love quite ridiculous? It has no intention, no motive, no agenda. How could it possibly prevail? It can’t be bought or sold, or so they say.Its mere existence can't be proven or even measured. What an impossible thing. Trying and failing, time and time again, no wonder cynicism always seems to win. I see “amateurism” as a delighted, even foolish, protest. Protest against everything. Of what’s expected of someone, or expected of someone to desire or strive for. To be elite, to be expert, to be professional, to be a master, to excel and succeed. Where’s the joy in that? I just want to have fun. I want to want. I want to love. And keep doing it, forever. I want to have fun, even when it’s tiring and sometimes even heaven is boring as hell. I want to be bad. I want to do my own thing. “I vant to be alone”. I want to be someone so dedicated to their passion that it starts to seem like there’s something wrong with them. All the way. We can take it all the way, and never get it back. ” - Molly Nilsson Amateur is the 12th studio album by Molly Nilsson. Deep in the teeth of a career that threatens to tip into something resembling a “legacy,” Molly Nilsson celebrates with an album recorded instinctively, quickly and bursting with so many moments of emotional brilliance and clarity it may be her greatest yet. Hers has been a career spent reaching out, perennially powerful in her earnestness, a warrior ridiculously defenceless and armed with a glittering sincerity. Shearing herself of the machinations of the music industry, recording at home, writing direct to the heart. Amateur is a jubilee for losers. A treatise in 13 songs, Amateur states clearly that we should live our life with eternal curiosity, offers us an open hand of comradeship out of the rat race. The songs on the album are both some of the most personal of Nilsson’s career and the most anthemic. First single How Much Is The World asks us to re-evaluate value in the face of a Neo-liberal system squeezing the life out of our loves. Pulsing opener Die Cry Lie satirises the commercialisation of emotion in the form of a shout-along diss-track. With a pounding rhythm track held down by gorgeous chord changes, heartbreaker Valhalla carries the torch for the main themes of the album: never growing up, making mistakes with kindness, moving on. When the drums crash in on the line “It’s going to get better now, you’ll see, going to be much better off without me” there is a world of feeling swirling about in the vocal delivery. One reading of the track might be that it’s a break up song but the subtext is classic Molly Nilsson: by living truthfully, making mistakes, we’re active agents against the myriad oppressions of the world. All The Way takes the theme for a run into the eternal sunset. It’s a manifesto for living fully. “Take it all the way, and never get it back” - it’s the process that’s the important point. The journey not the destination. Big Life, follows on like a part 2: An ode not only to Molly Nilsson’s career of endless gigs, endless connections with people, it’s a massive ode for following your dreams, doing it yourself. Closer The Bitter End is a powerful anthem for friendship, another definition of love infused in Nilsson’s work, A beautifully poignant ode to comradeship til the end, it seems to be the songwriter approaching aging, approaching life’s inevitability with the same vigour and earnestness, the same love of life she enjoyed at the onset of her career. There are moments on Amateur shrouded in reverb, slightly out of focus, forcing the listener to step deeper into the Mollyverse.. Nilsson’s open-armed beseeching to the world permeates every beat, every chord. These are songs exploding with life: the chunky, aggressive bassline on the punker Get A Life can’t hide its massive, catchy chorus. The sweeping Swedish Nightmare might be a tongue-in-cheek self-reference, but at its heart it’s a song about the duality of living life large, what is a dream, what is a nightmare? Molly Nilsson says you can’t have one without the other, and why would you want to? Here’s to making mistakes.

An electrified meeting of minds, Candy Girl is a lost 1975 session by jazz pianist Mal Waldron, recorded in Paris with core members of the mighty Lafayette Afro Rock Band, the American funk unit who had made France their home and whose deep grooves would later be mined by generations of hip-hop producers.

By 1975, Waldron was a decade into his self-imposed exile from the United States—a transformed musician who had reassembled his sound in Europe and Japan after a devastating breakdown in the early '60s. His post-1969 output had stripped jazz down to its core elements: modal intensity, locked grooves, and hypnotic repetition. Candy Girl doesn’t interrupt this trajectory—it extends it, wrapping Waldron’s minimalist mantras around the funked-up chassis of the Lafayette rhythm section.

Originally released in microscopic quantities on the Calumet label and long shrouded in obscurity, Candy Girl was recorded spontaneously in the studio of French producer Pierre Jaubert, whose Paris HQ had become the workshop for both avant-garde jazz (Archie Shepp, Art Ensemble of Chicago, Steve Lacy) and psychedelic funk (Lafayette Afro Rock Band AKA Ice). This session finds Waldron jamming freely with bassist Lafayette Hudson, drummer Donny Donable, and keyboardist Frank Abel on clavinet, Moog and more—laying down raw, unfiltered instrumental funk with an experimental edge.

Highlights include the low-slung vamp of “Home Again”, the crisp, break-laden groove of “Red Match Box”, and the mesmeric swirl of the title track “Candy Girl” —a minor-key electric piano waltz with hints of cosmic soul. There's even a deep cut for the crate diggers: the somber yet meditative “Dedication to Brahms”, where Waldron deconstructs the Romantic composer’s third symphony into a sparse jazz reverie.

Unlike his polished sessions for Japanese labels or the avant-garde swing of his earlier Prestige work, Candy Girl feels more spontaneous, even accidental — and that’s part of its power. It’s a document of Waldron as bandleader, collaborator, and explorer, captured in the midst of a vibrant, cross-cultural scene in mid-70s Paris. Never officially issued with a cover and barely released at all, Candy Girl is a rare convergence of two underground traditions: Waldron’s Euro-exile electric jazz and the raw, sampled-future funk of the Lafayette Afro Rock Band. Now finally resurfaced, it deserves its rightful place in both stories.

Pruillip is a new Belgian band founded by Louis Evrard (Bert Dockx Band, Grid Ravage, Ottla) and Annelies Van Dinter (Echo Beatty, Takh & Naga Ghost). The duo started about 2 years ago after a request to play at De Nor, the open air sculpture park and venue of Dennis Tyfus. For this occasion Annelies and Louis decided to do a position switch and play each other's instruments: Annelies beating the hell out of the drums and Louis ripping up the guitar.

Pruillip: the record

Visceral meditation: that's what the self titled debut album of Pruillip is all about. Eight songs channeling elemental emotions, kickin' deep into the internal organs of the body. Low end frequency swagger droning up from Louis Evrard's amp, ready to slip into 'Place All Your Cards', slow burning sludge nugget, bolstered by the steady drum kicks of Annelies Van Dinter, where every note and strike seems to carry the weight of the world. Navigating through life, seducing you with her gloomy voice. Entering a quest into the unknown, a place you don't want to leave. A feeling increased by the abrasive and brutal 'Boterham': a punk sludge anthem for the hungry and the wild at heart, countered with the reverb-shrouded murmur 'Distracted Enthusiasm'. The lonely 'Zonnedauw' sets the mark of an apparently more resigned B-side, stretching the Pruillip universe with primitive, but so addictive, riffs in 'Mirrors', echoing vibes of 90's desert sessions while 'Offload' and the lucid state of Ataraxia seems to drift on raw emotions and a sweaty claustrophobic tension, which would fit perfectly in Wim Wenders Paris Texas movie. A whirlwind of a record, straight to the bone, leaving you flabbergasted and wanting for more.

A decade after its release, A Fragile Geography returns transformed. This limited edition cassette accompanies the AFG10 anniversary reissue, offering an inspired re-envisioning of Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark compositions. Reworks presents distinctive readings of these pieces, with each artist leaving their personal mark on the material. The titles remain unchanged, with the sole exception of “Hiatus,” reborn here as “Ausencia.” Together, these reimaginings extend the emotional cartography of the album into new terrains.

KMRU reframes “Displacement” with expansive, glimmering layers that open into meditative ambient landscapes. Nairobi born and Berlin based, he is known for morphing field recordings into vivid aural experiences, often capturing the texture of footsteps, foliage, and distant city life and weaving them into contemplative soundscapes. In this version he introduces subtle new sounds, including stringlike synths that trace and heighten the piece’s emotional arc. The result invites close listening, offering enveloping tones where the organic and the synthetic gently collide and flow.

Penelope Trappes renders “Reprisal” as a voice-led invocation of the delicate and the intimate. Her wistful vocals bloom with fragile sorrow, rising over shimmering strands of strings to create a sound world at once sacred and shadowed. She is adept at channeling inherited grief into music that is transcendent and otherworldly. The interplay of her voice, the strings, and her use of space and depth draws those qualities into Irisarri’s orbit, imbuing “Reprisal” with the same spiritual weight and clarity that define her most powerful work.

Kevin Richard Martin (a.k.a. The Bug) transforms “Empire Systems” into a cavernous “Iced Mix,” driven by polyrhythmic double bass motifs and sculpted from subterranean pressure and negative space. Known for pushing sound to its physical limits, Martin brings the stark intensity of his dub and noise infused practice into Irisarri’s architecture. The track seethes with harmonic distortion and erupts in white noise rhythms, its brooding low end depth and icy reverberant textures amplifying the tension. Vulnerability and force are set in stark relief, as silences feel as heavy as the bursts of sound themselves. The result is a stark study in atmosphere, restraint and impact, reframed through Martin’s singular lens of sonic mass and low end intensity.

On Side B, Mabe Fratti opens with a cinematic, dreamlike, Lynchian reimagining of “Hiatus” in her native Spanish (“Ausencia”). She threads cello and voice so wondrously that her rendering feels at once hauntingly beautiful and disquieting. Emotionally charged melodies shift in unexpected directions, while her soft, intimate vocals hover above Irisarri’s brooding synth textures. Fratti’s gift for blending experimental and avant pop sensibilities with visceral, emotionally powerful expression shines resplendently here. She gives voice to Irisarri’s reflections on the passage of time and his growing desire to reconnect with his familial roots.

Abul Mogard stretches “Persistence” into a vast drone elegy. A master of patient sound sculpting, Mogard layers evolving waves of analog synths into a dense shroud that radiates its own internal light. Gradual surges of tone and subtle harmonic shifts emphasize the piece’s endurance and inevitability. Irisarri’s original composition, in Mogard's hands, becomes a rumination on time’s unrelenting flow. Melancholy and transcendence coexist in equal measure in this engulfing, cathartic rework.

William Basinski and Gary Thomas Wright close the cycle with a spectral version of “Secretly Wishing for Rain.” Basinski’s field recordings of Reseda rainfall and birdsong, which open and close the rework, add a personal touch and evoke the imagined sound of a grainy film reel flickering to life. The piece suspends Irisarri’s yearning for the Pacific Northwest, lodging it hazily between memory, place and an unreachable dream. It feels like a fading recollection, half forgotten and half felt. A final gesture that dissolves the album into vapor, leaving the listener adrift in its lingering afterglow.

Mastered with great care by Stephan Mathieu and featuring a remixed version of the original artwork by Daniel Castrejón, this edition refracts the language of the original through new prisms. Less a return than a passage, across time, across interpretation, into uncharted emotional realms.

Mutant, in partnership with Howe Records, is proud to present Howard Shore's incredible score and 17th collaboration with legendary filmmaker David Cronenberg: THE SHROUDS. Over the course of four decades, Howard Shore and David Cronenberg have collaborated on countless masterpieces (Crash, Videodrome, Dead Ringers, History of Violence... the list goes on and on). The Shrouds continues in the mold of Crimes of the Future, with a delicate but deceptive score. In a film about burial, decay, and the search for meaning—marred by conspiracy theories and an overreliance on technology—the film and score find a space that balances the ethereal and the dreadful. The sacred and profane. It's a profoundly beautiful work of art from a maestro who has made some of the best film music of our lifetimes. "Howard Shore’s score, a mix of hymns and organs, beautifully layers the film’s imagery.”

Torn traverses the charnel realms of the grey area on his debut EP for DNO, ‘Taiga’. Steely beats and stony bass coalesce into chimeric rhythms across four enthralling constructions; techno and drum & bass seeping into each other like liquids in a solution, changing the very nature of both.

Opening with a solemn march shrouded in swathes of noise and jitter that blur the soundscape like the death throes of some unlucky video game character, ‘Wreak Havoc’ is an incessant builder. When it finally lets loose the chaos promised by its title, reinforced breakbeats rain down like great factory apparatus hammering out metal plates.

‘Whalebone’ is of a similarly industrial bent. Like a head full of rotor blades, it ripples with densely packed polyrhythms that rattle and whirr, new layers emerging from the churn to grab the consciousness before sinking back into the melee.

‘Taiga’, meanwhile, channelling the cold, ancient immensity of its boreal forest namesake, progresses at a plant-like pace — unhurried and purposeful. It's droning low-end seems to mask secrets, while a canopy of tangled percussion cuts angular shapes through the shadowy undergrowth.

And on ‘Stay’, the complex drumwork vibrates so rapidly around the track’s irradiated pads as to almost merge with them completely, rhythm and ambience becoming a singular hypnotic form.

A natural fit for DNO, Torn’s mystic machine music opens new pathways for the label’s darkling voyage through sound.

Rhythms of postmodern realism at the very bottom of the DNO.

Mutant, in partnership with Howe Records, is proud to present Howard Shore's incredible score and 17th collaboration with legendary filmmaker David Cronenberg: THE SHROUDS.

Over the course of four decades, Howard Shore and David Cronenberg have collaborated on countless masterpieces (Crash, Videodrome, Dead Ringers, History of Violence... the list goes on and on). The Shrouds continues in the mold of Crimes of the Future, with a delicate but deceptive score. In a film about burial, decay, and the search for meaning—marred by conspiracy theories and an overreliance on technology—the film and score find a space that balances the ethereal and the dreadful. The sacred and profane.

“My hero’s back,” Madeline Kenney sings on the second track of her newest effort, Kiss from the Balcony. In a sense, she means herself; made with friends Ben Sloan and Stephen Patota across just a few in-person studio sessions in Oakland, these tracks represent a culmination of Madeline’s musings on growth and resilience reaching back years, brought to life through this generative and vibrant collaboration. Close listeners can hear the breadth of stylistic elements and themes carried through from various eras of her work, which all come together in a cohesive and timeless record.

In two week-long intensive sessions, the three collaborators grew these nine songs from fragments, sketches, and seeds. With a background in experimental percussion and sound design, Ben Sloan brings an electronic sound to Kenney’s writing; Stephen Patota provides ingenious guitar melodies throughout and grounds the project in acoustic elements. Kiss from the Balcony was originally intended to be an EP, but the sessions brought forth such fruitful ideation and play that the project was expanded to a full length album. It sits in Madeline’s discography as a thematic and musical progression that sees her iterate on ideas about love and explore new sonic motifs through her work with Patota and Sloan.

Much of Kiss from the Balcony is a meditation on modern relationships, a feminist and utterly human contemplation of power and who holds it. “Hereditary backward leaning,” she describes in ‘Slap,’ of the female condition; “But no-one ever likes to see the girls break down / So they keep it to the bathroom floor” she sings in the rapturous opener, ‘Scoop.’ While the songs are shrouded in metaphor, the ubiquity of heartbreak and resilience decode much of the internal conflict Kenney depicts. The album sees her recognize the precarity and peculiarity of life and take it by the horns, realizing she controls her own narrative:


She explores the relationships between joy and suffering, choosing to see them as inseparable, two sides of a single coin. “It’s never over / When will they love me?” Kenney asks on ‘They Go Wide,’ describing her positionality both as a woman in relationship and as an indie artist in the modern music industry.

A playful hopefulness pervades the record, providing a sense of revelation in the journey throughout, Kenney’s radical acceptance of life as it is like a lyrical tongue out at the absurd.

Karma Sutra had already been a band for five years when they released their elusive one and only album ,released on their own Paradoxical Records label in 1987. The Daydreams of a Production Line Worker came towards the end of the bands life span and all they had to show prior was a few demos and some tracks on compilations on Mortarhate. By the time the band entered the studio KARMA SUTRA was spreading their musical wings, moving from a straight ahead anarcho sound to a more dense and thoughtful place, adding flourishes of post punk and moody atmospheres to their agit-prop political stance thus creating one of the most idiosyncratic concept albums of their time, where situationist politics meet the most ambitious anarcho punk sound.
The album was recorded in Sheffield at Vibrasound Studio and co-produced by Spon of UK DECAY, which added yet another layer to the already complex album.
When released The Daydreams Of A Production Line Worker had little fanfare due to the rigid approach to punk of the time. But as time passed, so did this albums importance. It would sit perfectly in your collection next to bands who had ambition, tunes and thought provoking lyrics like CHUMBAWAMBA, THE MOB or THATCHER ON ACID.
The Daydreams Of A Production Line Worker reissue comes with a reproduction of the originally included 28 page booklet, which the band viewed as an inseparable part of the album to understand the concept. Dense at times and intended to be thought provoking it covers class oppression, gender, culture brainwashing, prison struggle et all the capitalism society illnesses written from an anarchist perspective and aligned with the situationism theory of revolution of every day life.

The Ottawa composer/performer and head of Black Bough Records plays every instrument on his CST debut: an accessibly avant-garde work of dark/ambient modern chamber music. Mark Molnar has been a linchpin of the Ottawa experimental music scene for over two decades, spanning contemporary classical, electroacoustic, industrial/noise, and improv. As a string player in a wide range of projects, an organizer and curator of innumerable shows, and via his own avantgarde label Black Bough Records, Molnar's unflagging contributions to independent music culture in Canada's capital city have been significant. EXO is his Constellation debut: a remarkable and bracing suite of post-classical composition on which Molnar plays every instrument. Meticulously self-recorded, primarily with strings, harp, and piano, EXO balances thematic melodicism, polytonality, and dissonance across three elegiac pieces of exquisitely expressive dynamism. This is exacting modern chamber music that blends formal and harmonic complexity with a solemn emotive sensibility accessible to a broad audience. Listeners that yearn for some edge and disquietude in a landscape of often all-too-approachable post-classical music should find EXO eminently worth their time and attention. While Molnar is a highly trained string player, and studied music under Aubrey Wolfe, microtonality with James Tenney, and composition with R. Murray Schafer, his trajectory has been entirely and intentionally outside the academy, signalling a socio-artistic commitment to DIY culture, forged from an early passion for the sonic worlds of post-hardcore, post-punk, no-wave, free improv, power electronics, and other independent/underground musics. His classically-informed works have been described as "tense currents of musical modernism invigorated with punk's raw vitality." EXO carries an undercurrent influenced by dark industrial and ambient metal in particular, with microphones purposely placed to pick up the low-end frequencies of the piano body, and of a bass drum positioned as a resonant skin in the acoustic space; an electroacoustic strategy organically meshed to the crisply defined and pristinely recorded pointillisms and polychords of strings, harp, and piano, which feed into this noisefloor of crepuscular sub-bass disquietude and decay. It's a production aesthetic that lends EXO a distinct undertow of tension and feeling, a sort of roiling maximalism where the chamber instrumentation traces arcs and waves of form and flow as if drawn from a dark, impervious ocean below. It also reinforces the profound hermeticism of Molnar's process, as a forbiddingly solitary creative act of immersion and navigation. The album artwork, featuring semiabstract stills of the sea by British photographer Ed Allen, further reifies this metaphor. The album's opening piece 'Sub Luna' (and its shortest at 8 minutes) showcases Molnar's adeptness at naturalistic and flowing complexity: tight cascades of climbing and descending chordal clusters hold their polytonal densities for various durations, yielding to more clarified harmonic suspensions and motifs, as melodic themes led primarily by violins in the higher registers provide a fractured lyricism. Molnar says: "the opening and closing figures of this piece act as opposing shorelines; the shorelines provide a reliable expression of range and key signature, and the tides come in and swallow them up, the motion of a body that addresses the relationship between states of lucidity and melodic figures." On 'Terre Sacer' everything happens in soupier waters, as a slow and doleful theme, anchored by grinding bass notes, circles in a gyre of dark resonances, until glistening strings gradually ascend to enrobe a plaintive and gently harrowing single-voiced ostinato over the composition's final third. Molnar's drone, ambient, minimalist, and goth-industrial influences are on display here. Side Two of EXO features the 18-minute multi-movement 'pallida Mors' (pale death): a waterfall of heterophony introduces dense chordal movements where strings are recorded and mixed to evoke pipe organ, in the album's most overtly dissonant and (anti)liturgical sequence. This gives way to ever more open and fragile spaces, before a resurgence of dark clusters and noise treatments introduces a final repeating piano coda, shrouded in devastated bass resonance, settling into what Molnar calls "a meditative hollow." Constellation is honoured to release this work by Mark Molnar, a longtime fellow-traveler whose selfless and boundlessly generous activities as an independent arts enabler sometimes obscure his own accomplished and uncompromising artistry. We trust EXO can help shed some much deserved light on this fine composer. Thanks for listening.

This one-off Belgian New Beat project from The Zodiacs at first glance seems like standard fare from this time and place in dance music history - even with call to action, commanding listeners to ‘Move & Dance To The New Beat!’ that could well have earned a place at one of the slogans of the entire movement in an alternative universe where this record was a hit. However, a hit it was not - what we have here is an obscure piece of music shrouded in mystery, previously released only on 7 inch, and its enigmatic nature only adds to eerie quality of the children’s voices throughout the record. This, alongside its higher tempo not usually associated with New Beat as a musical form, come together to bring forth a bizarre oddity of the genre that also has the potency of a modern, peak time weapon. Anatolian Weapons on remix duties takes the material and reduces the speed but increases the malevolence and is a testament to his skills as one of the great producers working today!

Emerging from the Minneapolis underground and heading straight towards the sky, IE arrive on Quindi with a full-length album of sparkling, sophisticated wonder. Touching on kosmische grandeur, Riley-esque cyclical patterns, lounge pop and dubbed out psychedelia, the five-piece allow their songs to unfurl with a natural, hypnotic elegance which can take many different forms.
There's a loose, live quality to the recordings IE's members commit to record, which reflects their steady presence gigging in Minneapolis and the surrounding area. Since putting out their first release in 2016, they've glided from drone and synth-led jam band ambience (2018's Pome) to strung out, stoner-tinted slowcore (on 2023's outstanding Junk Body). For Reverse Earth they strike a smoky note that wraps itself around your skull across extended run times that evolve with a meditative poise.
From the deceptively driving 4/4 thrum of the opening title track through 'Divination Bag's snaking tryptamine mantras on to 'Simplify's slow and smouldering indie-soul, IE's sound is bathed in a sumptuous warm glow that rounds out the lows and the mids, creating a nocturnal shroud in which their nebulous song structures can feel deliciously endless.
Meredith Gill's drums provide rolling and tumbling undercurrents for the slowly shifting phases of the instrumental players, as Michael Gallope and Travis Workman trade keyboard parts and Workman and Sam Molstad chop and pick at their six-strings. Atop the thrum of her bass, Mariel Oliviera's vocal adapts to the scenery, from a distant, dreamlike siren song on 'Reverse Earth' to a spoken word meditation on 'Babel'.
There's space in each track for every instrument to cut through and have its moment, from a spiralling key vamp to a chicken-scratch guitar flex. The gently twisting, head-feeding groove exercises of the first four tracks give way to a slow and powerful march on 'Dark Rome', closing the record on a noirish anti-ballad fit to peal out in the closing slot at Twin Peaks' Roadhouse (circa season three).
As much as the tracks teem with composition, musicianship, and production to savor, a sound like IE's has a soporific quality that soaks in unconsciously. It's an evocative portal where the band feel as if they could just play on each piece ad infinitum - where the time itself seems to dislodge from its moorings.

London favourites FUSE continue their busy start to 2025 with the latest offering from eb_flow, the previously anonymous project from founder Enzo Siragusa and Burnski, as they officially reveal their identities for the first time. A project shrouded in mystery since its debut in late 2022, eb_flow has captured the attention of the global underground house and minimal realm with their signature fusion of deep grooves and hypnotic soundscapes. With speculation surrounding the masterminds behind the alias since its launch, the ‘Boundless EP’ officially confirms what many had suspected – that two of the scene’s most respected producers are at the helm. The EP marks the duo’s second release on FUSE and their third overall, following their debut on the label and their ‘Sunshine’ EP on Burnski’s Constant Sound.

The three-track EP showcases eb_flow’s dynamic sound, perfectly balancing signature and trademark touches from both artists. ‘Celestial’ is a cosmic journey through sweeping pads, shimmering textures, and crisp drums, bringing a simmering cut to the fore. The title track, ‘Boundless,’ is a dancefloor weapon, built on tight percussion, heavy low-slung basslines, and atmospheric flourishes that take things deeper. Closing the EP with a hypnotic and immersive groove, ‘Illusion’ layers wonky yet intricate drum programming with subtle electronic elements to craft a trippy late-night roller.

Essential fixtures in both Siragusa and Burnski’s sets, this latest instalment cements the project’s status as a driving force with a reveal many have been patiently awaiting.