Cerca:the slow engineer

German-Turkish singer and composer Alev Lenz follows her self-released album 4 in a Cycle of Thirds (Jan 2026) with a complete, album length ambient rework by Simian Mobile Disco co-founder Jas Shaw. “The two records are very much intertwined," writes London-based German-Turkish singer and composer Alev Lenz. "I made 4 in a Cycle of Thirds with Jas in mind, inspired by a mix he created for my last album.” Lenz and Shaw have previously worked together on 2024 collaboration EP Bring Your Friends, as well as album mixes for Lenz' previous two solo records. Lenz' original album was created from a series of single-note drones, one for each note of the chromatic scale. "When I had this idea, I wanted Jas’ touch involved somehow. I asked him for drones on each note. He sent me 12 and I wrote most of the album listening to these drones. They eventually left the picture and were replaced by new drones I made, new sounds or vocals. But the memory of them lingers in the songs, like an imprint on the retina, an afterimage.

So naturally when the record was finished I sent the totality of it to Jas and said: here you go, make your versions!" 4 in a Cycle of Thirds in its original form touches on traditional folk musics, chamber music, contemporary composition, film score, and even interweaves subtle metal inflections, but now presented on double vinyl alongside Jas Shaw's versions as twin records, it has a newly foregrounded quietude, spectral and delicately nuanced. Through reduction, meticulous replacement, and sensitively applied edits, Shaw gently rebalances the light and shadow of the original pieces, coaxing new subtleties and harmonic resonance. "It occupies a space that is in-between the lines," describes Lenz. Shaw employs a "feedback system" he created for his piano, applied here to devastating effect. "Take the key bed off it and set up a resonators, mics and a mixer. Lots of gaffa tape, lots of precarious propping stuff open. You grub around on the floor and slowly the room fills with harmonics, it’s wonderful." And, on the relationship between the original record and these new versions, he explains "we could really let the songs drift into a different shape without worrying that we were missing elements that were great."

Alev Lenz is a singer, songwriter, composer, and producer born to a Turkish actor, activist, and artist mother and an Oscar-winning German engineer father. Alev’s creative foundation is as diverse as her musical output. Her solo discography includes three albums - Storytelling Piano Playing Fräulein (2009), Two-Headed Girl (2017), and 3 (2019). She has contributed vocals to scores by Oscar-winning composer Volker Bertelmann, including the US drama Conclave. She has collaborated with artists such as Anoushka Shankar, Jas Shaw (Simian Mobile Disco), Roomful of Teeth, and plenty more. Songwriter, composer, and producer Jas Shaw is best known for his work with Simian Mobile Disco, whom he co-founded in 2003. He mixed Alev Lenz' 2016 and 2019 albums Two-Headed Girl and 3, and also performs with Selling alongside Gold Panda, and Shaw & Grossfeldt with visual artist Bas Grossfeldt. Shaw and Lenz released the collaboration EP Bring Your Friends in 2024.

With Grammy award-winning sound engineer Katie May (MPG Sound Engineer of the Year, 2025) once again at the faders, Blank Arcades sees the same team (David Perry on guitars & church organ, Cameron Saint on double bass and Louis Spanton on percussion) reunite in atmospheric Yatesbury Church, close to the Avebury stone circle, to perform sixteen new songs on a single summer's day. A year on from its predecessor, Collodion ("hushed, haunted and shiver- inducing" wrote Alexis Petridis in The Guardian) Blank Arcades draws on themes of impeded progress and the 'entrances to nowhere' implied by the album title, a nod to Andrew's interest in ancient churches. "When you sing in a place like this, the walls join in."

Red light therapy, Fiona Zanetti’s debut ep is a body and mind driven sonic collection of memories: music from and for the club, the nervous system, the physical and the mental. Built on no nonsense grooves, haunted bass pressure, rolling percussion, breakbeats, and hypnotic vocals.

The record delivers functional dance floor tools with emotional depth. From the addictive affirmations and sultry bassline of trust the process to the sensorial, ambient slowdown of skin deep, the EP traverses house, techno, breakbeat, downtempo, and experimental club.

Engineered for heads down sets, late night hedonism, and those suspended moments when you plunge inward on a crowded dance floor, it balances inner and outer listening, unifying depth with playfulness and introspection with fun.

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Superonda’s debut release, Aurora Spectralis, introduces the latest project from Mahatmos, a duo emerging from long-established practices in electronic music, sound design and composition for moving images. Released on 12” vinyl and digitally, the EP unfolds across four tracks of electronic ambient music shaped by atmosphere, con1nuity and restrained propulsion. Ambient textures open a broad emotional and spa1al field, while slow, insistent rhythms provide steady forward motion.
Superonda has created a space for Mahatmos to sharpen their focus on sound as material. Modular synthesis, analogue instruments and live processes techniques are balanced with precision and restraint, resulting in music that moves between progressive and hypnotic forms, informed as much by underground club culture as by cinematic composition.
Mahatmos is a Rome-based duo with complementary and deep-rooted practices. Gianluca Meloni brings a long-standing presence in techno and experimental music scene, with international releases and performances (as Laertes and as part of Modern Heads). Maurizio Loffredo contributes an extensive background in composition, production and sound engineering across popular music and film, with a refined sensitivity to timbre, structure and sonic narrative.
Superonda is a Rome-based label founded by artists engaged in deep sonic research and advanced technical exploration. Operating as an open platform, it connects collaborators working across recording, synthesis and composition, approaching music as a process-driven practice rather than a fixed genre. Each release stands as a distinct exploration, linked by shared sensibilities rather than formal constraints.
The physical edition of Aurora Spectralis is conceived as an extension of the work itself. Alongside a standard black vinyl pressing, a limited run of color and marbled copies has been produced, each one unique. Variability and tactility are embraced as part of the object’s identity, reinforcing the record as something to be experienced gradually, over time.

Vivel is Alexander Eldefors’ second release under his own name. Built around eurorack and field recordings, many captured during still moments while traveling to visit family and friends. The album was created during a period of transition. It functions as an anchor in a time of change, representing a sense of home, safety, and stillness.

Alexander Eldefors is a producer, composer, and mixing engineer based in the countryside outside of Stockholm, Sweden. With a background as both a sound engineer and musician, he has spent years recording, mixing and playing in a wide range of bands and solo projects. In 2019, he consciously slowed down and returned to a more intimate and quiet musical expression, leading to the release of his debut album Bergen in 2020 under his own name. Bergen is the Swedish word for mountains and reflects the fact that Alexander grew up in the north of Sweden close to the mountains.

His music is minimalistic, melodic, and embracing, shaped by a deep connection to nature. Natural environments are a constant presence in his work, serving both as inspiration and as a sound source. Alongside this, he is drawn to the raw textures of everyday objects, working with foley sounds and field recordings. His arrangements unfold as organic sound collages, where elements blend freely and imperfections are preserved to maintain a natural, human feel.

Known for their exhilarating live-to-record albums such as last year's critically acclaimed Wood Blues and Giant Beauty, سماع Sama'a (Audition) is the first of two releases that will surface after أحمدAhmed’s first studio recording sessions at North London’s The Fish Factory in early 2025.

Since 2014, Ahmed أحمد have excavated and re-imagined the music of Ahmed Abdul-Malik, in an ever ongoing search for future music. Over a decade on, the group were given the opportunity to set up in the studio for the first time and, with the aid of meticulous engineer Benedic Lamdin, سماع Sama'a (Audition) is the quartet's most detailed work to date.

Fastidious fans may recognise the album's tracklisting as that of Ahmed Abdul-Malik’s Jazz Sahara. After his success collaborating with the pianists Thelonious Monk and Randy Weston, Jazz Sahara was the first record Abdul-Malik made as a leader and was released in 1958. It used the flame of late Fifties jazz to light the wick of North African folk music and acted as a reminder of the Arabic origins of jazz, creating a distinct, unique sound that was far beyond its time. In Malik’s Jazz Sahara, there is no piano. The ongoing work of each member of [Ahmed] then is to think differently, to wonder how the music will work and to take a risk on trying it out - an extraordinarily compelling feat of imagination. Using group improvisation strategies and recording in single takes, سماع [Sama'a] (Audition) tackled the full suite of Jazz Sahara in just one session, with ‘Ya Annas [Oh, People’] and ‘Isma'a [Listen’] being previously unrecorded. 'Farah 'Alaiyna’, also released on 2019’s Super Majnoon, sounds unrecognisable - the slow, heady stomp and repeated phrasing of 2019’s embryonic [Ahmed] having been blast furnaced and sped up four-fold. The result is four kaleidoscopic, relative miniatures that move, unfold and re-imagine at a very different scale and proportion than [Ahmed]’s previous records. It’s a dizzying, euphoric music and an extraordinary record of a group moving through space-time like no other.




[b] Isma'a [Listen]
[c] El Haris [Anxious]
[d] Farah 'Alaiyna [Joy Upon Us]


[b] b1 Isma'a [Listen]
[c] c1 El Haris [Anxious]
[d] d1 Farah 'Alaiyna [Joy Upon Us]


[b] b1 | Isma'a [Listen]
[c] c1 | El Haris [Anxious]
[d] d1 | Farah 'Alaiyna [Joy Upon Us]

Elations Recordings presents "Tairen", an evocative cello recording marking the debut solo release of Melbourne/Naarm-based cellist LEM (Lauren Meath). This deeply personal work is an impressionistic reflection on place, memory and self at the intersection of classical technique and folk sensibility; expanding Meath's lateral, avant garde approach to sound with piano and textural percussion, resulting in a work that unintentionally falls into the post-minimalist tradition.

Conceived as a single piece across five movements and recorded between 2022 and 2024, "Tairen" reflects on memories of a formative place and period for Meath. Each movement scores part of an imagined landscape, mirroring the cliffs and expansive southern ocean of the coastal Otway ranges, remembered and reinterpreted. While tied to a place and time, ultimately "Tairen" is an exploration and expression of self.

Each piece explores this landscape, retaining its own identity while unified by recurring themes, moods and motifs. Meath emphasises restriction in her approach, creating subtly shifting layers of slowly evolving cello lines with expressive unstructured free playing bursting out. In all but one movement ("Bird"), cello is performed in a single take, utilising joined looping pedals on a semi acoustic cello from luthier Paul Davies. Equal parts meditative and expressive, uplifting and melancholic, the instrument becomes a proxy for the human voice creating a work that is intensely beautiful.

While Meath has a background in classical and pop, LEM has always been a more interior, personal project on the boundaries of minimalism and folk; in the past only as a live project featuring only herself, taking a lateral approach to sound through bow, harmonics and voice. While built on this foundation, "Tairen" expands Meath's typically minimal live approach with piano ("Sky") and additional textural percussion. Produced and engineered by James Tom and Danny Smith and with additional percussion from Dylan Lieberman. Mixed and mastered by Cam Parkin.

Sugaring a Strawberry, the sophomore record from Julia, Julia, is a study in coming undone—on purpose. Recorded at COMA, Julia Kugel's home studio, and mixed through a custom Flickenger clone, the album drifts in and out of clarity like memory itself. It's emotionally retrospective, creatively unvarnished, and deeply human. You can hear it in the hiss, the warmth, in the vocals so raw they're like an open window. These songs weren't engineered for perfection. They were built to breathe. Her long-time collaborator and husband, Scott Montoya, mixes it all so loosely that you can hear the air between tracks— a space that makes the music feel inhabited rather than recorded.


"Bound" opens the album like a secret passed between sisters, solemn and unspeakably close. It begins with the softest of touches: hushed guitar, a near- whispered delivery that carries the intimacy of someone singing only for one other person. It's a love song, but not romantic, more ancestral in the way long bonds can be. All glow and undercurrent, "I Know," is like hearing someone hum through a wound. The track arrives as if it had been waiting, coiled and complete, to be sung. Its pulse is slow but insistent, anchored on a hypnotic loop and a vocal that's half-incantation, half-confession. One of the most outward-facing songs on the record, "Feeling Lucky," opens like a cigarette flicked in the dark– smoky and a little bit slick. Built on a skeletal beat and a nearly detached vocal, it leans into a sarcastic swagger that barely masks the ache beneath. The delivery is droll and glazed, the instrumentation is sparse and a little woozy, leaving space for her voice to sway—a shrug of a song, stylish in its sadness. "A Love That Hurts" drifts in on soft, fingerpicked guitar and a dry, close-mic vocal that feels both haunted and immediate. The mix is stripped down and analog-warm, letting tape hum and silence frame the emotion. Julia sings like she's remembering something she doesn't want to, each line a slight unraveling. Like the rest of the album, "A Love That Hurts" doesn't push toward resolution. It sits in the ache, sifts through it, makes it beautiful.

Sugaring a Strawberry doesn't seek catharsis so much as stumbles into it. There's a quiet volatility to these songs like they might fall apart if you press too hard. It moves in shadow and softness, asking questions it doesn't answer. It doesn’t end with closure. It ends with truth.

The Modulator, AKA Freddy Fresh is back in town !

LTD 100 COPIES !!!


To share this event in the best way i asked him a few questions...
Official Interview now begins :)

Tool : The last Analog Records USA was in 2000... Why did you stop it and why do you wish to realese vinyls again ?


Mr Fresh : Ii actually never stopped I just made alot of other styles of music that I do not think were proper for my Analog and E.M.F. labels (Analog is now run by Mike McLure of SAuto Kinetic we work together on that label and Electric Music Foundation is all my label.. we did some great digital releases on E.M.F. recently with ADSX / Scott Radke/Dave Olson / Poor Boy Rich etc.. and can be found here

for me my last Techno Analog vinyl 12” Release was in 1997 Quiver 12"


But I did release a few Techno/Electro style tracks on my Electric Music Foundation labels as 12” singles
in 2003 I made these
Black Out

Orange Krush


I always continue to make music and have hundreds of unreleased songs that I think some are not worth putting on 12” single as I fear to weird, experimental etc.. I try to isolate myself and make unique music hopefully not sounding like what others are making but try to be my own self




Tool : What are you favourite machines or software to make music these days ?


Mr Fresh : I still use many vintage synths like my Jupiter 8, Arp 2600, Roland System 100M, 303’s etc.. but now I also use some Eurorack Modules E950, Clouds, Metropolis Sequencer etc.. also TR8, Twisted Electrons Acid 8, Teenage Engineering Factory, PO Calculators, Korg Volca Sampler, Electrix Filter Factory, Space Echo (Boss) and MPC 4000 controlling Hardware and I usually record random ideas to a flash recorder and sometimes import into ableton tracks etc.. then use Reaktor or some other soft synths but I always start Analog. I also use Critter and Guitari Looper to record organic sounds to use for percussion.




Tool : What are your forthcoming projects on vinyl in the near future ?


Mr Fresh : I have a remix electro style for New Zealand Independent Cardboard and Computers soon on 12” single

I have COMACID EP coming out of Belgium on 12” single very soon which features some older tracks (Binder, Scared, Slow Death, Spacefunk) mainly re-release of Techno/Acid stuff all analog of course

Then I have two releases with Toolbox Records and possible new stuff with Acid.Paris and hopefully we start a nice relationship with Toolbox for a long term ha ha! My daughters start school next month so I am preparing new Eurorack Modules and getting Syncussion to really hit it and spend some serious time in the studios. I am really inspired to do the more electronic vibes now and feeling the A.C.I.D. alot lately with the newer technology

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

Ostinato as resistance: Rafael Anton Irisarri’s landmark work reimagined. Marking the tenth anniversary of the American composer’s critically acclaimed album 'A Fragile Geography', this new edition arrives renewed, both sonically and visually.

First released in 2015 (Room40) during a period of personal upheaval and creative reinvention, it endures as a testament to resilience, transformation, and the connection we hold with the places that shape us.

Written in the aftermath of a devastating theft, A Fragile Geography was born out of loss. Just days before a cross-country move to New York, Irisarri’s entire Seattle-based studio was wiped out. Instruments. Recordings. Archives. Gone without a trace. He arrived on the East Coast to an empty room and the daunting task of starting over.

“This album wasn’t just a record; it was a lifeline,” Irisarri reflects. “It became a way to process the emotional chaos that followed: uprooting, instability, and ultimately, the slow, intuitive rebuilding of a life.”

Composed and recorded in the rural woods of the Hudson Valley, the album took shape in seclusion, surrounded by nature, and through a process guided by improvisation. Embracing limitations, Irisarri wove textural layers of field recordings with half-remembered melodies from his Seattle years, piecing them together like fragments of memory. Tracks like “Displacement,” “Hiatus,” and “Persistence” juxtaposed haunting stillness with restless momentum, mapping an inner terrain of grief, catharsis, and rebirth.

Among its defining sounds is “Empire Systems,” a monumental centerpiece built around a simple four-chord progression, organ textures, and guitar drones. Gradually, the track expands into layers of immersive loops and thick, enveloping distortion that wash over the listener like a rolling wave. Often cited as the album’s most majestic passage, it captures Irisarri at his most sonically ambitious. With a harmonically saturated structure crafted from restraint and repetition, it remains one of his most recognizable compositions: an exercise in the art of maximal minimalism.

From the outset, “Reprisal” received praise from BBC’s Mary Anne Hobbs, who championed the track on her radio show. Her support played a key role in introducing Irisarri’s work to wider audiences and solidifying his place within the lineage of electronic, drone, and experimental sound artists. A slow-burning elegy, the piece emerges from a haze of distortion and sub-bass, with dense, unrelenting drones carrying a sense of mounting tension. Just as it seems to collapse under its own weight, flickers of guitar emerge like distant light through fog. It’s a meditation on dissonance, resolve, and the elusive possibility of release.

The closing track, “Secretly Wishing for Rain,” is steeped in saudade: a longing for Seattle’s dour grey skies, lush green landscapes, and desaturated sunsets. Through it, Irisarri mourns a vanished chapter of life bound to the city, a time documented in scattered mementos and cherished collections, now permanently gone. A reflection on what could never be recovered: an era lost to time. Julia Kent’s looped cello motifs added a melancholic warmth to the track, marking the first collaboration between the two artists and sparking a musical dialogue that would keep growing in the years that followed.

More than a career highlight, A Fragile Geography has laid the foundation for Black Knoll studio, which Irisarri rebuilt from the ground up. The studio has since grown into a creative hub for countless projects, with Irisarri engineering records for iconic music figures like Terry Riley, Ryuichi Sakamoto, William Basinski, MONO, Devendra Banhart, Grouper, Emeralds, Steve Hauschildt, Julianna Barwick, and many others. Carried by its lasting influence, the album has quietly captured the ear of a younger generation, its sound and emotional arc finding new listeners in unexpected corners.

The album’s new visual language was reimagined in collaboration with Mexico City–based designer Daniel Castrejón. Irisarri captured ghostly images at Gaztelugatxeko Doniene, a historic coastal site in Bermeo, Euskal Herria. Castrejón then treated the photographs with distressed textures and spectral overlays. The final artwork channels the rugged, elemental forces that shaped both the music and Irisarri’s aesthetic, renewing his ties to ancestral ground inspired by the Basque homeland of his bloodline.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu with exceptional attention to detail, this anniversary edition uncovers every nuance in the sound design, enhancing clarity and presence. With each listen, new elements emerge, inviting discovery and reconnection.

“I don’t experience this album as a document of grief anymore,” says Irisarri. “I hear adaptation and I'm reminded that when everything falls apart, something meaningful, maybe even beautiful, can emerge.”

Sticking a dirty thumb in the eye of fate, our third collaboration sees this marrow deep family malarky turn official as Pace Yourself teams up with YS’s own imprint ERF REC for a split release. As if our status as minor celebrities and footnotes of the underground could level off no further: the unification no one asked for is here. Sticking it to the man, handing your arse to ya on plate; cauterising infected suburban minds world over.

Burn is the second YS album and written as a direct follow-up album to Brutal Flowers. If their first album was an exercise in the incremental, a construction of poise and patience, Burn, should be taken way the fuck at it’s word: it quite literally finds catharsis in twisted reverse. Birthed out the malignant kick found in deconstruction and chaos. Evil twin, psychotic younger sibling, call it what the hell you like. It might take you a moment to get the lay of the land in this darkly mutated world. Like a bug eye’d native first confronted with a zippo, the hit is radical and instant: a new way for the world to go up in smoke.

Splice the Seattle slacker scene with the spliffhead soundsystem culture of the 90s Bristol trip-hop scene, then cross-breed that with the DIY optimism and glee in creation found in the cut-and-paste worlds of skate, graffiti and hiphop, now run that through the skitzo basement mind of John.T. Gast and you’re close to the kind of scorched earth and spiked suburbia that birthed Burn.

Dunno quite what YS have been ingesting of late but this massively twisted LP touches on a host of gloriously fucked totemic underground sources while not sounding much like any of them. It has the ballsy swagger and hard flipping of the script as Massive Attack’s seminal Blue Lines. Indeed, the eponymous album tracks sound similar - the opener ‘Burn’ is like a hard nosed jammed out redux of ‘Blue Lines’. Getting into a kind of slow-spinning overdubbed maximal euphoria ending with mumbled downer vocals, struggling to conceal their tongues in their cheeks there’s an air of paranoia and proto-conspiracy theory. It’ll leave you scratching your head, feeling like you’ve stepped into a New World Order governed by a cacophony of drop outs, dope fiends and apocalyptic stoners. A cracked out world somewhere between Richard Linklater’s movie Slacker (1990) and Marc Singer’s Dark Days (2001).

The rest of the album parts like a tongue on a wine glass: Smith and Mighty, Bandulu, ambient Luke Slater records, Wah Wah Wino, Nurse with Wound, Land of the Loops, Placid Angels, Adrian Sherwood, Urban Tribe and DJ Shadow can all be heard in momentary splatters - but Burn like other works by YS, is its own ritual beast. ‘Moth’, a track which has been knocking about the underground deejai circuit for many moons, is a real raw chopped and screwed slice of stoner erotica that reeks of obsession and unrequited desire. Elsewhere, on tracks like ‘Switch’, ‘Trying’ and ‘Drift’ the throughline from Brutal Flowers can be heard. Underneath the driving heavy gravity the trademark emotional intimacies of YS linger: eternal recurrence, ghosts of static and shortwave, worn memories of the playful and painful sort. The brief moments where flashes of orchestral ambience get out from underneath the swagger are so pure, personal and unguarded that for a moment they leave you completely lonesome. In the album’s closer ‘End’, you can hear the fleeting promise and DIY possibilities of an analogue world and embers of ash that flutter in its wake: where it seemed, for a brief moment, that collective of DJs, engineers, rappers, graffiti artists and skate crews were emerging from the streets, giving the middle fingers to the system, before just as quickly disappearing back to the doldrums of obscurity. ‘End’ is a bittersweet ode to early soundsystem culture, MCs and pirate radio - an out of step time where for a moment the underdogs and weirdos seemed to be kicking on the door of something bigger.

A veritable teenage doof suite dosed with desire, claustrophobia and deviance. Burn is a good old howl at the moon: lonely, raw, and out for blood; basement style exegesis at its best. A thump to the gut, a stud through your blood. A dubbed-to-death classic straight out of the annals of nowhere. A perfect post card from oblivion. A bleak, bold and personally ferocious vision of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

This is everything that record collectors skip dates for. Fuck the scene and keep that shit underground. That’s what it is all about. Know what I mean, if you do? You’re in…

Back on their own imprint for the first time since 2017, Gauss returns with Latent Space EP--three tracks of smoldering electro and dub-infused techno. The title track opens with a fresh take on the duo's signature sound: weighty low-end, kinetic rhythms, and slowly shifting pads that add both introspection and scale. Subtle yet immersive, it echoes earlier explorations while carving out a more refined and spacious terrain. Backprop shifts gears into floor-focused territory--percussive and punchy, with explosive chord stabs and tight drum programming. It's raw, relentless, and engineered for full-body impact. Closing the EP is Z-1, a tense electro workout driven by syncopated drums and morphing melodic sequences. Its constantly evolving structure gives the sense of forward motion without ever breaking its glide--a hypnotic, high-velocity closer in true Gauss form.

Vines, the solo project of New York-based multi-instrumentalist and composer Cassie Wieland, offers a window into her inner world through expansive swaths of sound. She pieces together a celestial mix of synths, percussion, strings, and vocoded voice, making music that is at once deeply personal and cinematic in scope. This diaristic approach first took shape with her 2023 EP Birthday Party, and is crystallized on her debut LP, I’ll be here. With the sweeping and vulnerable I’ll be here, Vines arrives fully formed as an artist who crafts deeply resonant and open music–the kind that invites listeners in to listen, reflect, and share in the journey of learning through living.

“It was through making music that I was able to meet myself,” Wieland said. “Anything I’m going through or feeling is something that somebody else out there can relate to, and that’s really special to me.”

I’ll be here is both a culmination of years spent creating gossamer soundscapes and an opening to a new journey for Wieland as an artist. The album grew out of her years as a composer and songwriter, and builds on the language she developed on Birthday Party, which transformed the tumultuous feelings of the passing of time into minimalist meditations. It was just a start, though–a prologue, a development of the kind of language and ideas she wanted to express. With I’ll be here, she digs deeper and writes music that feels more sprawling, further solidifying her singular voice.

Wieland’s musical composition process is similar to journaling, lending itself to the music’s honesty. When she writes, she makes room for all the ideas she has; in these sessions, there are no wrong ideas, and she allows the music to be attuned to the experiences she’s having at the time. With I’ll be here, Wieland zeroes in on themes of anxiety, loneliness, navigating human connection, and having to grow up from a young age, ultimately coming to a place of acceptance. And though it began as a journal written in solitude, her collaborators shape the music with her.

Working with friends, in fact, was a crucial part of bringing the record to life. “Everything that was supposed to happen came together so easily because of the people involved,” Wieland said. I’ll be here was co-produced and recorded with Wieland’s longtime collaborator Mike Tierney, a four time Grammy-nominated engineer who has worked with artists across the contemporary classical and experimental scene like minimalist pioneer Steve Reich, LA’s preeminent classical ensemble Wild Up, and various bands on Bang on a Can’s Cantaloupe Music label. Percussionist and composer Adam Holmes and violinist Adrianne Munden-Dixon are two other longtime collaborators who are frequent fixtures of her live show. Holmes plays synths, drums, and banjo; in live settings, his kit is loaded with elements of the songs that are then triggered by MIDI, making the music an interactive, evolving experience. The album’s gentle, filamented edges are colored by Munden-Dixon, whose poignant string melodies elevate Wieland’s introspective compositions, as well as cellist Helen Newby, saxophonists Julian Velasco and Jordan Lulloff, and bassist Pat Swoboda.

Wieland takes an economic approach to writing music, building the swirling and immersive landscapes of Vines through short melodies, lyrics, and phrases. As each element layers and interweaves, they grow into sprawling webs of ghostly sound. Prior to Vines, Wieland composed pieces for other people to play using a minimalist’s sensibility, writing slowly unfolding melodies for instruments like violin and saxophone. In recent years, she sharpened her solo style across a variety of singles and covers which have garnered significant attention on social media for their emotional resonance (“being loved isn't the same as being understood” in particular went massively viral on TikTok in 2024). Birthday Party, her debut as Vines, brought her writing to a much more intimate space, centering on her vocoded voice cloaked in feathery reverb. A series of recent singles, meanwhile, including “I am my home,” showcase the way that Wieland’s music is born from the story of her innermost feelings, extending far beyond just the self.

Though Wieland’s music often deals with dark themes, it unfolds with tender melancholy, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. On “Evicted,” Wieland wonders if she’s getting sick or moving on, if she’s lost or found. Her vocals expand with each lyrical repetition, as the instrumentals slowly encircle and the music’s rhythm grows and bursts into a heart-wrenching, yet radiant wave reminiscent of post-rock bands like Explosions in the Sky. “Tired” follows a similar trajectory, building from a looping, melancholy rhythm and floating lyrics into a solemn resignation. Elsewhere, Wieland takes a more ruminative approach: “Omw” begins with twinkling piano and melancholy strings that gradually transform into an undulating mass. It is a song born out of the warm feeling of reminiscence, the slight return of hope that comes with nostalgia.

With any searching journey, there is also a point of understanding. The title track closes the album with the freedom of acceptance. A marching drum beats steadily beneath Wieland’s open vocals, moving forward, ever onward as it flies into the ether. In Wieland’s delicately textured music, there is room to come into yourself, and learn to love whomever that is. I’ll be here is a special space that can be all your own, one in which to feel what needs to be felt. “This is music for your story,” Wieland said. “I want you to use it how you need it.”

‘With Time, We Learned To Ask Less’ is the first duo album by Giuseppe Ielasi and Riccardo D. Wanke after decades of friendship and the occasional artistic collaboration. Working with only electric guitar and electric piano as well as a gentle dose of reverb, these improvisation-based recordings showcase the rapprochement of two artists whose interests are perfectly aligned. Their carefulness, attention to detail, and shared desire to sculpt space through music instead of just occupying it create a unique harmony between these two exceptional musicians who consistently stay mindful of the old adage that music is the space between the notes. Following up on solo albums sees them seamlessly combining the sparse but lush aesthetics of those experiments throughout these 44 minutes. Having lived close to each other in Northern Italy, where the prolific mastering engineer Ielasi still resides to this day, he and Wanke were members of the group Medves together with Andrea Belfi, Renato Rinaldi and Stefano Pilia before Wanke relocated to Lisbon. When Ielasi, who had mastered Wanke’s recent solo albums including 2023’s »i« for electric pianos, was invited to play a concert in the Portuguese capital in the summer of that year, the two took the opportunity to go on stage together. Infatuated by the results of this fully improvised set, they organised a two-day session in Ielasi’s Monza studio shortly thereafter and edited the recordings over the course of the following months. The resulting album shows them moving slowly through sonic space and time, complementing and counterpointing each other’s playing. They leave each other room in which to unfold and let short moments of silence speak for themselves. ‘With Time, We Learned To Ask Less’ is the closest you will get to hearing the air sing.

This is an album made during a crucial period in South Africa’s history during which there was a palpable feeling of a slow turning towards the collapse of the apartheid state side by side with an increasingly well-organised culture of resistance through the formation of the United Democratic Front (UDF) and various affiliated bodies. However, as a result, there was increased pushback from the state security establishment, a turning to dirty tricks and the formation of hit squads whose members murdered and tortured many of our friends and created chaos throughout South Africa as well as neighbouring countries.

This album is situated in this political environment however it took advantage of the new do-it-yourself music technologies available at that time. Technologies that made it possible to make and release records without interference from traditional record company executives. Two musician friends of mine pooled their resources after their respective bands had broken up. Ivan Kadey (National Wake) and Lloyd Ross (Radio Rats) built an 8-track recording studio control room and fitted it out in a second hand caravan and called it Shifty. They parked it in a garage attached to the only house left in a demolished and derelict mining village near Soweto on the outskirts of Johannesburg.
All the work on this album was completed there, mainly after hours and mostly alone where I enjoyed an exhilarating freedom to develop a whole new set of musical skills and ideas, incorporating my love of a wide range of music I’d grown up with. Influences of 1970s progressive/kraut/and psychedelic rock combined with mbaqanga bass styles, early reggae/dub and Indian tabla rhythms. Stockhausen, early Zappa and Holgar Czukay were radio text and shredding influences, and Chris Cutler’s band Henry Cow & Art Bears helped me see a way to political expression. Mostly though was the exciting post-punk and no-wave music coming through to us from Europe and America: bands like This Heat, the Mekons, Raincoats, Sonic Youth and Pere Ubu were immensely important to me as was my reading from the period: J.M.Coetzee’s first 3 novels are strong influences on Free State Fence; the stark landscape, superstition, ritual, and sexual repression are in many of his settings. JG Ballard was a constant presence throughout that period, especially whilst living in such a surreal environment, surrounded by mine dumps, but mostly I think the whole French post-modern philosophical movement—Derrida, Foucault and of course, Baudrillard’s Simulacra and Simulation—set out a new sense of possibilities, possible ways to express oneself, ways to think, and ways to try and analyse the political intersection of public and private life. Most important at that time was the influence of sound recordings I had made and experiences garnered from working as a sound recordist on documentary films. These financed my work and later the studio and were consistent employment throughout the 1980s. Film work also enabled me to experience much of South Africa that was hidden from most. The track Independence Day is a good example; drawn from some time spent in the rural homeland of Venda. This then was the first full length Kalahari Surfers album, completed in summer of 1984 it was taken to EMI pressing plant but rejected by the cutting engineer as being ""political, pornographic and anti religious"". Chris Cutler at Recommended Records took up the challenge and released the album through his label. He wrote the original liner note

PHASE SHIFTING INDEX is a time capsule record of Jeremy Shaw's vast original artwork that includes audio excerpts, voiceover passages and music composed by There in Spirit and Konrad Black. Shaw's seven-channel video, sound and light installation-that premiered at Centre Pompidou in 2020-uses science fiction, documentary, visual effects and synchronisation to induce an ecstatic experience in narrative temporality. Each video details the belief systems of one of seven fictional subcultural groups spread across time that aspire to induce parallel realities that could redirect the evolution of the human species through embodied forms of ritual, ideology and movement. The vinyl release serves as a gathering of the piece's key audio elements, focussing on their importance to the engineering of the artwork and their stand-alone listening qualities. Side A of the record follows the dramaturgy of the artwork in full-swing, including audio segments from four of its five distinct chapters. Written by long time collaborators Konrad Black and Jeremy Shaw together as There in Spirit, "Cross- Temporal Sync" soundtracks the strobing peak of the installation at the moment when all seven disparate videos fall into a unified choreography in which every person on every screen performs the same ecstatic series of slow-motion movements. The pulsing, hypnotic dirge aligns with the locked choreography in mood and action, caught somewhere between ecstatic trance and somatic takeover. A steady sub line, clipped stabs and a swooping choral gasp harmonise with the dancers movements onscreen while restrained filters open slowly to reveal a submerged melody that builds in intensity towards the chaotic rupture of Black's "Mosh". Here the score breaks into digital shards as heard through analog bodies colliding and pixelating into each other. The dancers eventual dissolution into "Particles" sounds like the field recording of a disembodied neural cosmos. The B-side of the record contains a narrative outline edit of the artwork comprised of music, excerpts and pieces of narration from each video. Listeners can follow along in an accompanying thirty-six page booklet of full-bleed film stills documenting each of the seven groups as they move through the five chapter dramaturgy. Composer Konrad Black's authentically backwards-glancing production and sound design is as disparate as the groups represented on screen. From the bespoke-16mm-tribal-techno of "The Cyclical Culture" and retro-cyber-funk of the "Zero-Ones," to the VHSdark- wave of "The Violet Lux" and skewed vocal/piano minimalism of the "Quantum Modern," each group exists in its own custom-made world out-of-time. The record ends where it began, with the full sequence of "Ramping" playing out as each subcultural world begins to lose control, galvanise, sync, rupture, atomise and scatter throughout the universe, only to loop back into another inevitable beginning. Phase Shifting Index premiered at Centre Pompidou, Paris, in 2020 and has since been exhibited in nine international venues including ARoS, Denmark, MONA, Tasmania, MAC, Montreal and Hamburger Bahnhof, Berlin

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lately, if you blink you may miss Goose fly by. Attributing much of their success to a dedicated and exponentially expanding fan base, steady creative output, and a collective commitment to improvement, the band is now universally recognized as a premier musical act nationwide. Dripfield, Goose's forthcoming studio offering, is a tale of introspection, carefully dissecting the details of the journey. Produced and engineered by D. James Goodwin at The ISOKON in Woodstock, NY, Dripfield is the band's first full-length project completed exclusively with an executive producer. Known for his unconventional recording style and eclectic equipment collection, Goodwin guided Goose through an entirely new process of album creation. Undoubtedly the product of multiple sold out concerts and consistent recording and songwriting, Dripfield is anchored by the theme of balance. Fittingly, the project features a mix of unheard originals and re-imagined catalog staples.

Berlin-based French-Irish multimedia artist Zoe Mc Pherson levels up on their third full-length "Pitch Blender", mangling years of experience DJing and performing live into a tight set of cybernetic soundsystem experiments that flicker between the rave and the art space.

Cast your mind back to February 2020 for a moment, when Mc Pherson released their last album "States of Fugue". The world seemed less tangled somehow, and yet Mc Pherson's precision-engineered fusion of exploratory sound design and visceral club pressure seemed to hint at a cataclysmic event none of us were really expecting. Only a few weeks after its release the world changed forever, and the majority of us were grounded - forced to consider our lives and the movement (or lack thereof) surrounding us. The philosophy of this extended time period is welded into the bones of "Pitch Blender", Mc Pherson's supple third album. They have learned plenty in the last two years, and infuse all of that anxiety and spiky emotionality into a spread of tracks that sound as powerful in headphones as they do over a well-tweaked soundsystem, soldering vocals, environmental recordings and instrumental flourishes to unpredictably pneumatic, cybernetic beats.

Anyone that's caught one of Mc Pherson's energetic live performances over the last few months will have an idea of what "Pitch Blender" is made of. They're an artist who's somehow able to match the raw energy of post-punk and no-wave music with the brain-altering potential of the best experimental club tracks, vocalizing an incongruous post-lockdown reality over beats that sound as if they're in a permanent state of flux. 'On Fire' splutters to life in a frenetic patter of drums that blur into oddly soothing hoover sounds, snaking lysergically towards a drop that's teased constantly, and never comes. We're forced to wait until 'The Spark' for that, fighting through choppy, pitch-mangled guitar and rolling beats until a gruesome kick drum forces its way through the psilocybin mists and heaving Bristol-inspired bass clonks. Backed up with just the inverted traces of recognizable breaks, this vigorous pulse lies at the heart of "Pitch Blender", the driving force that powers Mc Pherson's sound even when it's only hinted at.

'Blender' is the moment where Mc Pherson show their full hand, using crackling sound effects, ghost vocals and uneven rhythms to build a textural landscape that's so evocative you can almost taste it. Squealing modular synth effects sound like gameshow buzzers being triggered in another dimension and propel the track forward - it's club music, just about, but Mc Pherson's motivation is world-building, and their world is colorful, abstract, and dizzyingly surreal. "Obsolete user," their voice echoes over driving airlock kicks. But they take a swift left turn with 'Lamella', reducing the kinetic club rhythms to a longing simmer and letting loose with powerful vocals, intoning with robotic, gender-fluxed intensity. On 'Wait', New York City's clacking crosswalk signal - already an effective club track on its own - is transformed into a reminder to slow down, juxtaposed with booming sub-heavy kicks, acidic synths and effervescent percussion that rattles in time with the vibrations. It's foley rave, built for pure psychedelic intensity to blur the line between real life and sonic fiction.

One of the album's most galvanic tracks, 'Power Dynamics' curves a double-time rhythm around breathless HQ sound design squiggles until it hits a polyrhythmic crescendo, striking a queasy balance between rave hedonism and ritualistic hand drum energy. It all builds towards eerie closing track 'Outside' that acts as an important wind down, spotlighting Mc Pherson's ability to operate outside of the rhythmic spectrum, using cinematic scrapes and flickering neon synths to create music that's tense but never terrifying. The track feels like the end credits of a particularly bewildering movie - something between the cyberpunk dystopia of "Ghost in the Shell" and the vivid, sky-scraping beauty of "Koyaanisqatsi". Mc Pherson has managed something special with "Pitch Blender": mashing together genres with rare focus, and sharpening their engineering skills to a fine point, they've concocted an antidote to contemporary malaise - a wakeup call that's begging us to loosen our limbs and move.

Legendary shoegaze band Chapterhouse will share their first ever recordings on a new EP, White House Demos, released via Sonic Cathedral on May 9.The four tracks were laid down at The White House studio in Weston-super-Mare on January 15, 1989, when the band were only four gigs old. "They were the first songs we wrote as a band," says the band's singer and guitarist Stephen Patman. "At the time our live set consisted of Stooges and '60s garage-psych cover versions which we mixed with these original songs." The tracks weren't included on 2023's career-spanning Chronology boxset because they had been forgotten about - until the intervention of Slowdive guitarist Christian Savill. He and Patman worked together in an office in Reading as their respective bands were starting out and he says the demo remains "their best record"."When the boxset was released, Christian got in touch and reminded me of these demos and how much he loved them," says Stephen. "He was probably the first person I gave a cassette copy to. He still rehearses and records at The White House and was going in for a session the following week, so I asked if he could ask the owner/engineer Martin Nichols to check if he still had them in his archive. Thankfully he did." Of the four tracks that make up the EP, `Ecstasy' has appeared in various versions and permutations on Chapterhouse compilations over the years, but never in its full eight-minute glory; a much later version of `Guilt' was included on the band's 1991 debut album and shoegaze classic Whirlpool; a version of `Die Die Die' was also included with that album on a bonus 12", and remained part of the band's live set for a while. The stunning `See That Girl', however, has never been released before. With 36 years of distance, it sounds like something of a lost classic, and the White House Demos as a whole feel like a brief moment in time captured forever.

Every so often an album of such deceptive genius, of such aesthetic clarity, comes across our desk and transfixes us. Thought Leadership's III Of Pentacles is one such work of art. It's an instant classic and glides into the pantheon of timeless guitar-soul totems. Originally out on cassette only, we present the first ever vinyl issue. It's a hideously limited pressing of 300 for the world, so don't sleep on this.

Thought Leadership has already garnered big support from such tastemakers as Ruf Dug, Jason Boardman, Nathan Gregory Wilkins, J Walk, Evan Woodward, Justin Robertson and Heavenly's Jeff Barrett. The first time we heard III Of Pentacles, we nearly wept at the thought that something so beautiful, so bursting with real hope, could even exist in this brutal world. To quote the Quietus, "imagine if Stockport was situated somewhere along the Pacific Coast Highway rather than the M60, and you’ll have some idea of the coordinates to the post-industrial, sunburnt dream space opened up here."

So, who is Thought Leadership? What do we know about them? They reside in Stockport and are obsessed with ethereal guitar records. That’s about it. That and these X ideas shared with you, the listener.

Captured on a multitrack recorder in a terraced house in Stockport, this is as DIY as it gets. Glaringly obvious is a love for classic Factory and early 4AD. Perhaps it is the proximity to the River Mersey where the ideas arrived, and there being but three miles between where this and the Durutti Column’s classic “LC” was recorded, as the two operate across a familiar aural plain. Be it geographic or otherwise, limited by a true economy of means, namely guitar, pedals and drum machine, the fruit borne from these humble tools has been indelibly shaped by the perma-gloom that hangs low over the Manchester and Stockport environs.

Ushered in on 808 kicks, “I” opens the record as a beautiful Sketch for Stockport; a chiming maj7 chord dripping in chorus and delay sets us on our way. The Vini Reilly comparisons are unavoidable. “II” is all John McGeoch, with its trippy goth-psyche arpeggiated pattern cascading across the stereo image. Do those drums swing? But goths don’t swing?! They do here. We’re treated to a bit of crunch on the lead guitar part and some really lush reverb. We even step forth into shoegaze territory, albeit briefly, for the middle eight. “III”, a firm Be With favourite, continues the dreamy psyche leanings of the previous track, with an even bigger melody this time. We’re hearing The Teardrop Explodes on quaaludes here. A proto-dream pop cut soaked in melancholy. But watch out! The coda finds Johnny Marr has gotten into the ‘ludes and gatecrashed the final bars with some incredibly ignorant B minor pentatonic noodling.

“IV” ditches the drum machine for the first in a suite of three beatless electric guitar duets. The first of these semi-improvised rubato ideas is a striking departure from the earlier playful pieces, coming over emo and moody. Greyscale sulking for Stratocaster. Sign us up. “V” contains some really lyrical phrasing; a gorgeous conversation between two guitars. Real Stopfordian Primitive; meditative, crude, rain-soaked. We cycle through the same feels, then end on an alluring chord that breaks the pattern. Sometimes thoughts are like this. “VI” creeps in all plaintive, then a huge reverberating descending guitar line comes tumbling in like something off those classic Dif Juz 12”s. There’s some Maurice Deebank in there too, for sure, and the coda nods to early Meat Puppets.

“VII” rounds out the A Side, and succinctly presents a summary of all ideas explored thus far on our journey. The drum machine is back, this time with some wispy delay, before both guitars enter together playing interlocking lines. As we start, we end, with the delayed 808 guiding us out.

Opening Side B, “VIII” sees us embark on the other side of our journey as we slow down and space out. The drum machine is here, but the guitars are different now. Think Sensations Fix or Göttsching at his most peeled out. Drones, ambient drifts of broken chords and distorted lead lines all swirl round the mix. Side B is one for headphones for sure. “IX” is almost too exquisite for words. A New Age Mixolydian voyage through the cosmos. If you’re unmoved by the end you’ve probably got no pulse. We were left blunted ineffable by this one, such is the smudged elegance radiating from this idea. All hail the Thought Leader.

“X” is a full circle moment, and a fitting end. If you’ve not already elsewhere across the platter, you will be getting heavy Robin Guthrie vibes from this piece. Like the rest of Side B, this improvised jam sticks within a framework of related chords but the celestial energies channelled might invite us to wander “outside”, especially when the Tubescreamer is engaged.

RIYL Durutti Coulmn, Cocteau Twins, Dif Juz, Sensations Fix, Spike and adjacent guitar musicks – but, ultimately, this is just its own thing; such is the strength of ideas presented. "It’s good music to chill out to." (??)

Be With is honoured to present the first ever vinyl release of III Of Pentacles, carefully remastered by Be With's engineer Simon Francisco to ensure it sounds better than ever after its initial tape release. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry, in Holland. The original tape cover artwork, so crucial to Thought Leadership's striking visual aesthetic, has been rejigged for vinyl issue here at Be With. Its stark presentation befits the music contained within. They inform us that they shuffled their tarot deck to ask what the album should be called and the card you see on the cover popped out. The III Of Pentacles tarot card represents teamwork, shared vision and the ability to achieve goals through collaboration. We like to think Thought Leadership and Be With have nailed this one.

Buffet Lunch have been a band since 2017. They are a pop group formed of musicians based in Glasgow, Edinburgh and (sometimes) Newcastle. Described previously as a band that creates 'a hodgepodge of noises' who are 'lyrically ridiculous'. Both claims are strongly denied by the group.
Buffet Lunch have released 3 EPs & 2 LPs since 2019 and 6 months after self-releasing 'For Display Purposes Only' are back on Upset the Rhythm with their third album 'Perfect Hit!'
‘Perfect Hit!’ was recorded in the West Highlands, in the shadow of the UK’s Biggest Ben, during Leap Year week 2024. George Horler (Holy Loaf) joined the band as recording engineer along with new members Matthew Lord and Jack Shearer plus founding members Perry O’Bray & Luke Moran, to spend a week writing and creating the record. The majority of the record was completed in the studio, with as much recorded ‘live’ as possible and the week flew by, and we had such a lovely time we forgot to go on a walk. Most of the songs are new and only been played a few times live.
Lyrically, the album contains more deliberately personal lyrics than previous records, with several songs addressing ancestry and becoming a parent (Quarrymen, Shoes, Blue Chairs). Elsewhere, the songs deal with thorny issues such as; identity & full face tattoos, hands, legs & a swordfish sighting (Perfect Hit), the importance of kindness (Blip), disgraced Presbyterian John Knox (Merchandise), a potentially disgraced sportsman featuring star turn from Beef Jerk front man Jack Randall Lee (King Conker) and historical consciousness via Wikipedia (List of Walls).
Musically, the aim (as ever) was to make an album which is as fun to listen to as it was to make. These are mostly playful pop songs with a focus on melody and hooks. There are approximately 40% more guitar chords featured on ‘Perfect Hit!’ than on previous records.

Laurin Rinder & W. Michael Lewis's Seven Deadly Sins is a hugely influential, synth-powered, atmospheric space-disco masterpiece. It's arguably the best American Disco LP ever made. It's certainly one of the most important albums in the history of dance music. And, like its innovative producers, it's absolute genius.

During the mid to late seventies the production team of Laurin Rinder and W. Michael Lewis helped to define the Disco sound that was coming out of Los Angeles with studio projects such as El Coco, Saint Tropez, Le Pamplemousse (with vocals from The Jones Girls), In Search Of Orchestra and many others.

Like all of their work, Seven Deadly Sins comprises beautifully arranged and incredibly well produced deep disco that is revered by aficionados. A seven track, largely instrumental concept album covering each of the sins, it was recorded for AVI in 1977. It's a brilliantly conceived, groove-fuelled album that layers moogy keys and druggy synths over club-ready rhythms. The idea that this record is celebrating rather than condemning the sins is said to be another factor that made the record a big one in the underground clubs.

Opening sin “Lust” is an intense, swelling, seven minute blockbuster synth journey. An ethereal Loft/Garage classic, it's a sprawling, brooding slice of epic dancefloor dynamite that remains a firm favourite of discerning disco heads like Harvey. So ahead of its time, it still sounds ridiculously fresh today, drifting through a multitude of melodies over a smooth, lightly percussive mid-tempo beat. A slow-mo sexy killer.

Up next, the sprightly-manic “Sloth” is nothing like its title. A driving, swaggering instrumental incorporating the same Euro-disco elements as our Daft Parisian friends did a few decades on, it's certainly not for the faint-hearted.

A clear highlight, the cosmic, throbbing proto-techno of “Gluttony” gets things firmly back on track. Pure industrial vibes with dark synth bass punctuated by uplifting melodic sequences that brilliantly utilise guitar and horns, is this the sound of Wax! Trax being born? You won't be able to get enough of this.

Opening up the B-Side, “Pride” is a breezy slice of classic late seventies jazz/funk with deft Hammond and clavinet grooves and expansive horn sections. It's absolutely fantastic. The wicked leftfield vocal cut “Envy” provides more disco pump with squelchy acid synth flourishes, funky guitar and neck-snapping percussive breaks.

The dark proto-techno/house cut “Anger” is a fully on top tour de force of drums. With heavy African percussion throughout and a short Afrobeat section towards the end, it was sampled by Carl Craig and Laurent Garnier for their Tres Demented project and was also a massive Ron Hardy / Music Box favourite. The album is rounded out by the hard-grooving “Covetousness”, another driving jazz-funk workout par excellence with liberal use of the syndrum.

As Laurin Rinder recalled in an interview with Dream Chimney, the duo essentially lived in the studio: “we really had cots, beds and the whole thing, we were just pumpin’ them out. 7 days a week, 3 different projects at the same time. I played drums on everything but had to play a little differently. I had to ask the engineer ‘What’s the name of this group?‘”.

Evidently, their prolific output was the result of a crazy cocaine-fuelled production schedule: “The amount of coke we did, to do all this, you can’t even imagine. $300 a day. I had to have plastic inserts in my nose so I could do more.” Looking at the frankly terrifying cover, you'd have never known!

Be With is beyond delighted to present the first ever legit vinyl reissue of Seven Deadly Sins, carefully remastered by Be With's engineer Simon Francisco to ensure it sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry in Holland. The unforgettable cover artwork has been reproduced here at Be With - dare you stare back at it for too long?

Meet Leng’s latest signings, Liminal – a Danish duo comprised of guitarist, multi-instrumentalist and producer David Rosenkilde, and DJ, producer and sound engineer Morten Troest.

The pair first met when Rosenkilde was booked to perform as a session musician at Troest studio. They clicked immediately so with Troest’s studio skills and inherent knowledge of what works on dancefloors paired with Rosenkilde’s abilities as a musician they decided to produce their own music together working to one simple rule: try out every idea, however outlandish!

Since then Rosenkilde and Troest have been recording their debut album that’s set for release on Leng later in 2025. First, though, we get a taste of their talents via ‘Keep Coming Back To Me’, an impressive debut single that blends electric and electronic instrumentation while keeping its focus fixed on the dancefloor.

Ushered in by shakers, rubbery bass and flanged guitar licks, ‘Keep Coming Back To Me’ giddily blurs the boundaries between colourful nu-disco, low-slung dub disco and the sun-splashed beauty of the more club-friendly end of the Balaeric spectrum. It boasts a hazy, multi-tracked and lightly glassy-eyed lead vocal, as well as a nagging TB-303 acid line that works its way to the fore as the track progresses, adding extra layers of excitement and energy as it unfolds.

Remixer Ray Mang (AKA long-time friend of the label Raj Gupta) takes the latter element as his inspiration on a stunning, nine-minute plus remix that brilliantly re-frames the track as a blend of tactile 21st century nu-disco colour, hypnotic proto-house and analogue-rich, acid-fired Chicago jack. Re-playing the bassline in an early Chicago house style and reaching for lo-fi and spacey synth sounds, the veteran British producer frequently strips the track back to the groove before re-introducing the vocal and the dreamiest of chords.

Liminal also display their sonic diversity on bonus cut ‘The Moon Is Changing’, a wonderfully atmospheric and star-lit affair in which spacey ambient chords, twinkling electric piano keys and intergalactic electronics slowly usher in a mid-tempo Norse nu-disco groove. The pair build slowly, adding vocals and layered guitar licks. The results are hard to pigeonhole but thoroughly impressive, offering a tantalising glimpse of what’s to come on their must-check debut album.

Scanning Backwards, Phase Fatale’s second full-length album originally released on Berghain’s in-house label Ostgut Ton in 2020 is now reissued via his label BITE on limited edition pink marble vinyl after being long sold out and sought after. Using the connection between weaponized sound and psychological manipulation as a conceptual foundation, Hayden Payne explores the ways in which music – and sub frequencies in particular – are used to influence thinking and to synchronize emotions and behavior: from military technology to sound systems and the physicality and sexuality of queer techno culture.

Known for his innovative post-punk takes of dance music as featured on EPs for unterton and Ostgut Ton, the Berghain resident draws on his background as both a guitarist and sound engineer to create a heady mix of broken rhythms, noise-, and shoegaze-inflected techno, often at slower tempos. The result is music with space and pace to expand, highlighting the intense rushes of frequencies found in both sonic warfare and functional dance music. Over eight tracks named after a combination of historical and fictional narratives from literature and science fiction, Payne’s rhythmic excursions explore different manifestations of sound as power – specifically within the context of seeing Berghain as an instrument itself. This is also reflected in the album artwork, taken from an early flyer for the SNAX party series and an obvious ode to the fetishization of power dynamics.

In his own words: “All tracks on the album, no matter the style, were tailored to sound a certain way in Berghain – something I figured out through years of dancing in the middle of the floor, DJing as a resident and investigating what frequencies really penetrate the body. This includes speech and high-frequency, brain-penetrating instrumentation and drilling textures that I had not utilized so often before, but which I think also have an effect on thought and memory. It’s especially true in a space where gay and fetish roots combine with music in unexpected ways, almost in a cultish manner. A musical and physical deprogramming and reprogramming, psychic driving and de-patterning, the erasing and replacing of memories.”

Ultimately, Scanning Backwards surveys not only the manipulative properties of electronic music (mantras, loops, subliminal messages) but also how rhythm facilitates both moving and thinking in synchrony; a pulse of coordinated sound- and brainwaves.

Jesse Hackett returns with another unclassifiable co-mingling of genres, this time made in collaboration with Durban-based gqom trio Phelimuncasi. The group met up in Nyege Nyege's Kampala studio last year, spending three days engineering a sequence of tracks that turned the acts' respective sounds inside out, stretching urgent vocals over mutating backdrops of time stretched electronic drums, saturated noise and unstable synths.We last heard from Hackett on last year's chilling 'Shadow Swamps', a chilly, surrealist blast of disembodied folk and vintage electronics that added a cinematic twist to industrial music. Phelimuncasi meanwhile followed their acclaimed debut with the enormous 'Ama Gogela', asserting their dominance with tight, dancefloor-fwd, hook-led jams produced by some of the scene's most important beatmakers. In collaboration, both Metal Preyers and Phelimuncasi materialized a few worlds outside their comfort zones, with the Durban trio's words frothing from Hackett's marshy productions like echoes from another universe.Opening track 'Gidigidi ka Makhelwane' erupts in a fizz of beatbox percussion that loops noisily alongside Makan Nana, Khera and Malathon's stirring vocals, delivered in their local isiZulu tongue. Hackett's process is relatively restrained, offering Phelimuncasi the space to work their rousing magic unimpeded and adding punctuation where necessary. But when he takes more of a destructive role, it's just as impressive: on 'Gqom slowgen Chant', he corrupts his rhythm into a ritualistic pulse, letting the trio's words melt into metallic clicks and nauseous atmospheres.Elsewhere on 'Mgiligi wableka', Phelimuncasi's words create a rousing rhythm against a low-n-slow gqom thud from Hackett, and on 'Coffin Roller' he brings to mind '80s video nasty soundtracks, toying with analog synth sequences against Makan Nana, Khera and Malathon's distant chants. 'Like A Corpse' might be the album's most hollowed-out banger, turning the beat into a chopped 'n screwed drag that scrapes clamorously against Phelimuncasi's gurgling raps. Needless to say, there's nothing else like this.Jesse Hackett returns with another unclassifiable co-mingling of genres, this time made in collaboration with Durban-based gqom trio Phelimuncasi. The group met up in Nyege Nyege's Kampala studio last year, spending three days engineering a sequence of tracks that turned the acts' respective sounds inside out, stretching urgent vocals over mutating backdrops of time stretched electronic drums, saturated noise and unstable synths.We last heard from Hackett on last year's chilling 'Shadow Swamps', a chilly, surrealist blast of disembodied folk and vintage electronics that added a cinematic twist to industrial music. Phelimuncasi meanwhile followed their acclaimed debut with the enormous 'Ama Gogela', asserting their dominance with tight, dancefloor-fwd, hook-led jams produced by some of the scene's most important beatmakers. In collaboration, both Metal Preyers and Phelimuncasi materialized a few worlds outside their comfort zones, with the Durban trio's words frothing from Hackett's marshy productions like echoes from another universe.Opening track 'Gidigidi ka Makhelwane' erupts in a fizz of beatbox percussion that loops noisily alongside Makan Nana, Khera and Malathon's stirring vocals, delivered in their local isiZulu tongue. Hackett's process is relatively restrained, offering Phelimuncasi the space to work their rousing magic unimpeded and adding punctuation where necessary. But when he takes more of a destructive role, it's just as impressive: on 'Gqom slowgen Chant', he corrupts his rhythm into a ritualistic pulse, letting the trio's words melt into metallic clicks and nauseous atmospheres.Elsewhere on 'Mgiligi wableka', Phelimuncasi's words create a rousing rhythm against a low-n-slow gqom thud from Hackett, and on 'Coffin Roller' he brings to mind '80s video nasty soundtracks, toying with analog synth sequences against Makan Nana, Khera and Malathon's distant chants. 'Like A Corpse' might be the album's most hollowed-out banger, turning the beat into a chopped 'n screwed drag that scrapes clamorously against Phelimuncasi's gurgling raps. Needless to say, there's nothing else like this.

"From the remote reaches of Haparanda, Sweden, Häxkapell presents a black metal masterpiece that resonates with the eternal rhythms of nature and the cyclical dance of life and death.

“Om jordens blod och urgravens grepp” (‘Of earth’s blood and the grave’s grasp’) is a powerful blend of black metal, folk, and atmospheric darkness, interwoven with classical and progressive influences. Traditional instruments such as the violin, viola, willow flute, and hand drum infuse the music with ancient, primal energy. The lyrics, crafted through subconscious writing, serve as a conduit to the mystical and otherworldly.

The album was engineered, produced, and mixed by Oraklet. Drums were recorded at Nordvis Ljudstudio, with the remaining tracks laid down at Studio HMH. Mastering was handled by Tore Stjerna at Necromorbus Studio.

Founded in 2015 in the northernmost part of Scandinavia, Häxkapell is the creation of Oraklet, who embarked on an inward journey to explore the philosophical, spiritual, and mystical aspects of existence. Following the 2016 demo “Om sanningen,” Häxkapell released their debut album, “Eldhymner”, in 2021.

On “Om jordens blod och urgravens grepp”, Häxkapell’s music evolves much like the earth itself: slowly, imperceptibly, yet ever-changing. It reflects the cycle of birth and bereavement, with death and life beginning anew as earthen folk melodies murmur ancient slumbers into dawn. Oraklet channels these profound truths into lyrics and music."

Lucero lead singer Ben Nichols and keyboardist Rick Steff spent a day at Grammy Award winning engineer Matt Ross-Spang's Southern Grooves Studio in Memphis, TN recording acoustic versions of Lucero songs. Spanning the band's career, the songs range from some of Lucero's most popular crowd favorites to more obscure rarities and were all recorded live in the studio featuring grand piano and acoustic guitar. The double album, Lucero Unplugged, presents 20 stripped down tracks that offer fresh takes on the band's exceptional catalogue.

Enjoy The Ride Records in conjunction with Rock Ridge Music proudly present Reel Big Fish - Monkeys For Nothin’ And The Chimps For Free (Deluxe Edition).

Available in a deluxe edition for the first time, Monkeys For Nothin’ And The Chimps For Free is pressed on 2xLP colorful vinyl and includes 8 previously unreleased bonus tracks, remastered specifically for this vinyl release by award-winning Sound Engineer Dave Marino.

This expanded deluxe edition is housed in a gatefold jacket, featuring new and expanded artwork designed by Unoriginal Vinyl and the ETR Team, and includes a double-sided insert with exclusive liner notes written by the founders of Ska Punk Daily and Unoriginal Vinyl.

The Boysnoize Records catalogue contains more than a decade of milestones in the life of Angeleno DJ and producer PILO. His signatures—a focus on sound design, and a digital crunch evocative of hardware rather than software—are present from the very beginning, but the evolution of Pilo’s skill and sophistication is clear as he stretches from electro to experimental to techno and back again in a slowly oscillating gradient. Yet despite his dozen or so releases in just as many years, G.L.A.M. (dropping November 8th, 2024 from BNR) is Pilo’s first proper album. That the record embraces the cyclical nature of time is apropos; the artist’s journey towards self-actualized mastery always ends with a new beginning.



Over the eight tracks of G.L.A.M., Pilo reaches deep into the dream that first ignited the passion that has driven him since. For a chosen few internet-connected American teens in the aughts, the sounds of European electro (and electroclash) trickled down their ethernet cables and instilled a fantasy of exotic, sartorial, sexually-fluid hedonism that felt a world away from the hard-edged masculinity of the hip-hop and skate cultures dominant at home. Pilo opens G.L.A.M. expressing this idealized fantasy with the track “Superstar DJ,” channeling the tongue-in-cheek self-celebritizing of Miss Kitten and The Hacker’s seminal work. “I’m a superstar, come meet me at the bar,” hiss Pilo’s heavily effected vocals, over a bassline of chopped mentasm synths driven by a swift, club-ready rhythm. The fingerprint of 2000’s electro a la International Deejay Gigolo Records is recognizably present, yet Pilo is too adept, too confident in his studio abilities to let his tracks rely on the retro. A great joy of this album is the future-facing richness of its production, always nodding to its spiritual guide of the past, while constantly breaking new sonic ground.



G.L.A.M. continues with “Girls Rule The World,” its vicious, droning bassline and sticky, titular hook making it the perfect electroclash soundtrack for a revenge plot on an ex-boyfriend. “What you Want” offers an instrumental exercise in “synthesizers are the new guitars,” and Pilo’s FX chops really shine as he warps and distorts his sounds into an undiscovered dimension existing somewhere between both. “Loverboy” enters the more melodic, Legowelt-inspired realm of electro, pushing above and beyond the foundation of analogue minimalism with flourishes of impressive sound design to construct something both climactic and cathartic. Scopa lends her perfect coldwave sprechgesang to titular track “G.L.A.M.,” with Pilo’s vocal processing offering surprises throughout and his FX chains wielded as instruments unto themselves.



On the track “A Slow Thinning Halo,” Pilo might be conjuring the haunting vocal chops and chiptune simplicity of early Crystal Castles, but the whiplash snap of his drums and sizzling production are all his own. “Spend the Night” is G.L.A.M.’s least nostalgic—and most unashamedly pop—offering, with the mic being passed between Sana and DEEVIOUS (previously featured on Pilo and Boys Noize’s 2023 track “Pvssy.”) DEEVIOUS’ sultry singing rides atop the bassline as it hypnotically struts across the floor, while Pilo’s skillful arrangement, deft rhythm programming, and atmospheric control elevate the songcraft into full-spectrum worldbuilding.



As the penultimate track, the contemporaneity of “Spend the Night” serves as transition away from the album’s previous, past-leaning exercises, allowing Pilo to step fully into the future with “One Last Embrace.” The closing track still references aughts sounds, but it borrows so widely and prolifically that Pilo’s reassemblage can only be described as singular. Here, Pilo pushes his engineering into psychoacoustic territory, as the eerie, beautiful melancholy of “One Last Embrace” explodes into a thrashing bassline that warbles like a drowning memory, struggling against the sinking weight of time. Pilo allows it to survive for 16 electrifying, gut-wrenching bars before letting go. In G.L.A.M., as in Pilo’s career, as in life, every ending can only be a new beginning.

The much acclaimed Environments series returns with an exclusive to Record Store Day vinyl edition of “RITUALS” the first in the Environment 7 trilogy - a 13 track album of new recordings by The Future Sound of London, engineered by Yage.
Delicate melodies collide with deeply fragmented electronics - surfing atop muted rhythms and beats. Unique and unplaced the FSOL are unrivalled in art-electronic.

Anna McClellan's childhood summers were spent in front of the TV, cementing a love of narrative that would later reveal itself through songwriting. By seventeen, Anna was performing original songs in her hometown of Omaha, Nebraska. Her debut album, Fire Flames, garnered attention and earned her an opening slot on a Frankie Cosmos tour, setting the stage for her subsequently adored albums, 2018's Yes and No and / saw first light, released in late 2020. Now, with her forthcoming fourth album Electric Bouquet, out October 25, 2024 via Father/Daughter Records, McClellan crafts a musical journey that unfolds like one of her cherished television series. Each track is an episode, chronicling the past four years of her life - navigating a career change, a cross-country move, and relationships gone sour. Electric Bouquet is a narrative tour de force showcasing McClellan's remarkable ability to transform life's myriad of messy experiences into captivating musical stories. While writing the album, Anna attended trade school, apprenticing to become an electrician to escape the service industry grind and secure a foundational career alongside music. Eager to break free from Omaha, she decided to take her newfound electrical skills to pursue a career in the film industry in Los Angeles, CA where she's now based. Recorded in multiple sessions in Baltimore, MD and Omaha and co-produced with long-time collaborator Ryan McKeever and Another Recording Company Studios engineer Adam Roberts, Electric Bouquet shifts seamlessly between piano-driven melodies and guitar-anchored anthems, each song a miniature universe slowly opening unto itself.

Hugo Race (Dirtmusic, Fatalists, ex-Bad Seeds) and Michelangelo Russo (True Spirit), fuse rock, blues, ambient and electronic sounds on their raw, compelling new album "100 Years".
In 2017, the duo released John Lee Hooker's World Today (Glitterhouse/Gusstaff Records), a tribute to the blues legend's delta blues legacy reinvented in a swirling mix of analog grit and deep trance pulses.

100 Years showcases the duo's sonic chemistry against Race's stark songwriting. Inspired by the raw majesty of early blues recordings, the album was recorded in two days in a non-stop live Hugo Race & Michelangelo Russo - 100 Years session. Amplified harmonica, open-tuned guitars, smoky vocals and primal foot beat walk us through a landscape of dreamlike devastation, a hypnotic wall of sound suspended in time and space celebrating endurance and redemption, hand-made from ancient roots. "Tradition does not mean passing the ashes, but the fire."

100 Years. Recorded November 1 & 2, 2023.
Engineered by Andrew 'Idge' Hehir at Soundpark Studios, Melbourne.
Mastered by Giovanni Versari at La Maesta, Milano.
Published by Peermusic.

PRESS about former album:
Rock'n'Roll Monuments, Greece:
"Race and Russo's pioneering electronic atmospheres give the historical Blues something you never imagined possible."

Rolling Stone, Germany: 'Dark Eros and transcendental blues…'
Musikreviews.de, Germany: "A psychedelic ghost blues of a profound sort, a mature, sensitive interpretation of the music and lyrics of John Lee Hooker. (Race and Russo) have blown us away in slow motion, economically instrumented and with painfully beautiful intensity. "

Q, London: "A darkly singular experience then, and one of the best records (Race) has ever made..."

The Music, Australia: "A collection of bluesy, brooding songs from a talented singer-songwriter with three decades of musicianship under his belt."

Eclipsed, Germany: "Hypnotic rhythms and haunting guitars, this album tingles under your skin..."
Focus Kultur, Germany: "No one else makes music like this, and that in itself is an achievement..."

Rock and Folk, Paris: 'This traveler without borders advances through a menacing atmosphere of no-wave electro-acoustics. Here is the spirit, and he does not forget
the body and the soul ... '
Tom Tom Rock, Italy: "An almost epic attack, worthy of the soundtrack of an apocalyptic post-nuclear catastrophe film… a talking blues of the third millennium, filtered by years of psychedelia and industrial music - and the Berlin years of Hugo Race can certainly be felt - hypnotic and dark, but precisely for this reason enveloping and fascinating. A record in which the music of the legendary bluesman is completely transfigured, without, however, the fidelity to his "spirit" and his "message" being questioned in the slightest. In short, JLH is alive and fighting with us, if we find the strength to follow him."

Hugo Race (Dirtmusic, Fatalists, ex-Bad Seeds) and Michelangelo Russo (True Spirit), fuse rock, blues, ambient and electronic sounds on their raw, compelling new album "100 Years".
In 2017, the duo released John Lee Hooker's World Today (Glitterhouse/Gusstaff Records), a tribute to the blues legend's delta blues legacy reinvented in a swirling mix of analog grit and deep trance pulses.

100 Years showcases the duo's sonic chemistry against Race's stark songwriting. Inspired by the raw majesty of early blues recordings, the album was recorded in two days in a non-stop live Hugo Race & Michelangelo Russo - 100 Years session. Amplified harmonica, open-tuned guitars, smoky vocals and primal foot beat walk us through a landscape of dreamlike devastation, a hypnotic wall of sound suspended in time and space celebrating endurance and redemption, hand-made from ancient roots. "Tradition does not mean passing the ashes, but the fire."

100 Years. Recorded November 1 & 2, 2023.
Engineered by Andrew 'Idge' Hehir at Soundpark Studios, Melbourne.
Mastered by Giovanni Versari at La Maesta, Milano.
Published by Peermusic.

PRESS about former album:
Rock'n'Roll Monuments, Greece:
"Race and Russo's pioneering electronic atmospheres give the historical Blues something you never imagined possible."

Rolling Stone, Germany: 'Dark Eros and transcendental blues…'
Musikreviews.de, Germany: "A psychedelic ghost blues of a profound sort, a mature, sensitive interpretation of the music and lyrics of John Lee Hooker. (Race and Russo) have blown us away in slow motion, economically instrumented and with painfully beautiful intensity. "

Q, London: "A darkly singular experience then, and one of the best records (Race) has ever made..."

The Music, Australia: "A collection of bluesy, brooding songs from a talented singer-songwriter with three decades of musicianship under his belt."

Eclipsed, Germany: "Hypnotic rhythms and haunting guitars, this album tingles under your skin..."
Focus Kultur, Germany: "No one else makes music like this, and that in itself is an achievement..."

Rock and Folk, Paris: 'This traveler without borders advances through a menacing atmosphere of no-wave electro-acoustics. Here is the spirit, and he does not forget
the body and the soul ... '
Tom Tom Rock, Italy: "An almost epic attack, worthy of the soundtrack of an apocalyptic post-nuclear catastrophe film… a talking blues of the third millennium, filtered by years of psychedelia and industrial music - and the Berlin years of Hugo Race can certainly be felt - hypnotic and dark, but precisely for this reason enveloping and fascinating. A record in which the music of the legendary bluesman is completely transfigured, without, however, the fidelity to his "spirit" and his "message" being questioned in the slightest. In short, JLH is alive and fighting with us, if we find the strength to follow him."

Amputechture Beneath the technical flash, the fury, the fearless creative brinkmanship of the first two Mars Volta albums lay a potent seam of the blues, an existential vexation that powered every twist and turn of Omar and Cedric’s imaginations. That mournful vibe would come to the surface of the group’s third full-length Amputechture, a simmering/blistering set that was unquestionably the group’s darkest yet. There was no overarching theme here, no interlinking concept binding the songs together, though Cedric concedes that, lyrically, the album was influenced “by a lot of stuff I was going through, a really bad break-up and a lot of other crazy stuff, and trying to put that feeling into the record.” But Amputechture – its name another of the late Jeremy Michael Ward’s invented words – was no downbeat bummer. Opener Vicarious Atonement might’ve been a deliciously gloomy, slow-burning thing, capturing Cedric in delirious duet with Omar’s swooning guitar lines, accompanied by squalling saxophone by Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales and dream-frequency fuckery by the group’s new sonic manipulator, former At The Drive- In member Paul Hinojos. But second track Tetragrammaton swiftly set pulses racing, an epic-in-miniature and containing more ideas within its 16 minutes than most bands manage over an entire career, its proggy, complex guitar figures tessellating in infinite configurations and converging as if conforming to mathematical formulae from another reality. The raw material Amputechture was hewn from started life on the road. Omar now travelled with his own mobile recording studio – a little Neve ten-channel tape recorder and an array of microphones – and was able to work on new ideas on tourbuses, in hotel rooms and during soundcheck (and, occasionally, after the show was done). After touring for Frances The Mute was complete, Omar relocated to Amsterdam, staying with his photographer friend Danielle Van Ark and her partner, Nils Post. It’s here that he demoed Amputechture, flying in engineer Jon DeBaun, drummer Jon Theodore and his brother, Chino, to work on these raw sketches. He later returned to Los Angeles, where the album was finally recorded. Omar ceded guitar duties to his dear friend and kindred spirit John Frusciante, instead assuming the role of musical director. “I wanted to hear the sound of the band,” he says. “I thought, I’ll be able to sit at the console, feel the air of the speakers moving, the unified sound of everything, and not feel distant from it. It was fun, but it was also challenging.” Part of Omar’s new method was to teach the musicians their parts only moments before the tapes rolled. “To keep things fresh, and to keep everyone on edge,” he says, before chuckling. “No, not on edge – on their toes. Amputechture would prove The Mars Volta’s most diverse set yet, drawing into the group’s tornado of influences moments of fiery jazz spirituality and esoteric folk introspection, finding space for passages of devastating subtlety and also their most fierce and full-on moments to date. The aforementioned Vicarious Atonement found its meditative mood echoed by Asilos Magdalena, an intimate, acoustic piece that invoked traditional Latin folk music, as Cedric sang in Spanish a sorrowful tale of a lost soul’s quest for sanctuary within a Magdalen Asylum, a refuge set up by the Catholic church for “fallen women”. The shadowy, sinister closer El Ciervo Vulnerado, meanwhile, tapped into the darker side of spiritual jazz to further explore the album’s themes of redemption and religious myth and magick. Elsewhere, the interplay between guitar and clarinet on Viscera Eyes created complex, unsettling counter-melodies, while the coiling, ornate Meccamputechture – Cedric’s wild fusion of sacred texts, occultism and dystopian science fiction – proved a great showcase for Ikey Owens’ swarming, infernal organ runs, in concert with Frusciante’s arcane guitar-play. But it was Day Of The Baphomets that would prove Amputechture’s most ambitious and most defining epic. Cedric’s lyrics tore into the hypocrisy of religious cant and myths of sin and punishment. “I wanted to make a song that was like the movie The Believers, where this cabal stole kids and did some occult shit with them,” he explains. “But I wanted it to be like, ‘What if the people you hire to do jobs you don’t wanna do rise up one day and then pull some shit like that?’ Like it was the guerrilla warfare, them taking over – wouldn’t that be some fucked up shit? And the music just lent itself to that – the big intro, the bass solo, and all of the ruckus that occurs.” That ruckus was some of the most thrilling Mars Volta music yet, as Omar directed his musicians to rumble through fiery modes of wild tribal groove, ransack-the-palaces riot- rock and supreme progressive experimentalism. Amputechture, then, is the sound of The Mars Volta in imperial mode: fearless, insatiable, unstoppable.

After over a year spent in a slight creative slump in a crumbling terraced house in Tottenham, Jam Baxter rang his label boss while heavily intoxicated to request they fly him to Bangkok forthwith, to rejoin forces with '...so we ate them whole' producer and engineer, Chemo. After an initial period of understandable hesitancy, the flights were booked and Baxter found himself suddenly regurgitated from the belly of a Jet Airliner into the magical and surreal surroundings of Mansion 38.

Mansion 38 is the name of the apartment block in Bangkok in which Baxter wrote the entire album, all the while going slowly insane on a heady mix of local liquor and multicoloured pharmaceuticals. The album is very much a product of the month he spent there in a dream-like state, becoming a delusional half-man half- goat figure to be admired and feared in equal measure.

Despite not being the wholesome and creative Zen retreat he anticipated and most probably needed, the backdrop of seedy late nights and impulsive tropical hedonism has resulted in some of his most intriguing and honest work to date. Chemo once again provides the haunting and evocative canvas that is all too perfect for Baxter's colourful imagery and dark psychedelic storytelling, blending a huge array of influences into an album that flows seamlessly from start to finish.

With comrades Lee Scott and Trellion flying to Bangkok on a whim to record their contributions and with videos shot in Bangkok, Hanoi and London this is truly an international project born of grand ambition and abject madness.

Mansion 38 is clear proof that after several years and multiple solo and group projects, Jam Baxter is still angrily shoving the boundaries of hip hop and lyricism further outward.

Coming out on September 6th on Sharptone Records, Sundiver is Boston Manor’s fifth album and one that represents a glimmering dawn for the Blackpool five-piece. Grown from a seedbed of optimism and sobriety, the LP celebrates new beginnings, second chances and rebirth. With two members recently stepping into fatherhood, hope is baked into every note. “Datura came out of these really dark few years over the hangover of the pandemic,” Henry reflects. “I'd been struggling a lot with drinking and not taking care of myself and bad mental health and stuff. We wanted Sundiver to be the next morning of the following day.” He explains that it feels good this time round to write through the lens of positivity. “The themes began to emerge, of rebirth, spring, dawn, sunshine and then other elements just started to fit into that.” It was during the making of Sundiver that Henry found out he was going to be a dad. This album is a significant one for the band. Originally coming out of the emo and pop punk scene, they’ve explored sonics and genres throughout their career, taken risks and achieved more than they could ever had dreamed of. They’ve grown up as Boston Manor – their lives and the world changing around them. They’re now taking stock, at a crossroads of the band they were and the band they could be.
While writing the album, they revisited the bands that shaped them in the late 90s and early 00s. “I was listening to the music I loved when I was a teenager and I just thought, why don't we make music like our favourite bands?”, guitarist Mike Cuniff remembers with a smile. “So we brought our interests to the table that way. Y2K kind of vibe. There are elements of Deftones, there are elements of Portishead in there, some Garbage, The Cardigans.” He laughs and adds NSYNC to the list of inspirations. From this cocktail of classics comes a dynamic and ambitious record, rich with depth, groove and more hooks than Peter Pan’s nightmares. Lyrics that foxtrot from parallel universes to personal growth, vivid dreamscapes to raw grief. Individually they’re single strokes full of meaning and magic. Together they’re a landscape.
Container (out Feb 15th) is the first single and it’s them at their best – impassioned and infectious. “This song is about the stagnancy of life creeping up on you & how that can bring about change.,” Henry explains, citing Ocean Song by US band Daughters as an inspiration.

The concept of the butterfly effect is present on Sundiver – how small actions can lead to big changes. This is no clearer than on their second single, Sliding Doors (out April 5th). It has the golden sound of late 90s Lollapalooza rock – think Smashing Pumpkins - rebooted with crisp 2024 production and a potent heaviness. In the lyrics Henry wonders, what if?, pondering on what could be. The idea that there are infinite versions of you whose lives splinter off in different directions at every decision you make. That there’s another you out there somewhere right now reading this sentence, and another me writing it. “So much is down to chance and circumstance,” Henry says. “You might catch that train and your life totally changes. Or you might miss it and things stay the way they are.”
Heat Me Up (out May 30th) is defiant and victorious, the audio equivalent of quitting your shit job and driving into the hot summer sun with a head full of dreams. “The lyrics are about love and gratitude,” Henry shares. “Another theme on the record is just appreciating what you have. It’s about not taking for granted the things that you've been afforded.”
There was some natural magic in the creation of Sundiver. They worked with their usual producer, Larry Hibbitt, and engineer, Alex O’Donovan, but instead of recording in London again they ended up in the green pastures of Welwyn Garden City. “Because Larry lives out in the countryside now, it was a way different environment and way different experience recording this time,” Mike remembers. “That contributed a lot to the brighter sound of the record.” The daily barbecues they had during their recording sessions imbued the process with harmony – five old friends spending quality time together and making quality music.
However, the album is by no means one-note. Birthing this new world they’ve created wasn’t without it’s pain, and that can be heard in the heavier moments on Sundiver. What Is Taken Will Never Be Lost is the most-stripped back on the album, a slow rock number seasoned with the downtempo Portishead influence. The heartfelt lyrics are Henry’s way of processing the loss of his grandfather, who died in a hospice last year(?). “It was just fucking horrible. It was always cold when I went there and they were always trying to get rid of me. The song title, What Was Taken Can Ever Be Lost, is the idea of his memory fading at the time because of dementia.” Henry goes onto explain that shoeboxes of photographs, diaries and a legacy is what he’s left behind. “He lived a really rich life and it has really impacted me and my father. His legacy is etched into the fabric of history in a very small way.” This song continues the connection between his grandfather and the band, as his painted face is emblazoned on the cover of the very first Boston Manor EP, Driftwood. As well as emotionally heavy themes, there’s heaviness in the music of Sundiver too. The closing song, Oil In My Blood, descends into an intense shoegaze outro with Debbie Gough from Heriot screaming hellfire. It’s in moments like this that the band show us aggression and fury can be as much a part of positive change as quiet introspection. The last lyrics of the song, “It resets and starts again,” leaves us in contemplation as the final chord rings out.
Touring the US, Europe and Japan over the years makes for an impressive CV, but if you know anything about Boston Manor you’ll know that they’re all about their hometown. Their choice to work with Blackpool-based photographer Nick Barkworth is testament to that. They’ve been working with him since the pandemic. “He captures Blackpool in a light that really reflects the weirdness and quirkiness of the town,” Henry says.” He's got a really good way of presenting that.” For the Sundiver cover, Nick photographed a 30ft tall abstract glass sculpture made by the local artist John Ditchfield. A striking and bewitching monolith that’s familiar to them but unusual to most people. “It has such kind of a gravity and power to it,” Henry describes the sculpture which stands in a field just outside of the seaside town. “It reminds me of either an explosion or a star or a supernova. To me it represents new life, power and radiance.” Boston Manor have got a knack for that - connecting the otherworldly and the everyday, the stars and the streets.
They’re a band known for using their music to make bigger statements about society. This time round they’re harnessing the uplifting power of music, and the communion it creates, as an antidote to the daily doom and isolation. “It seems like absolute chaos out there at the moment,” Henry says. “You’ve got Gaza and Israel, you've got Russia, you've got the fact that 40% of the world is going to have an election this year and increasingly most governments are leaning very far to the Right. The internet is dividing everybody, people are getting poorer and more desperate. It's really, really scary.” They considered trying to tackle the weight of it all in their music. “We could’ve written Welcome to the Neighbourhood on steroids, where it's just absolute darkness and misery”. He’s referring to their 2018 concept album that deals with class, inequality and the bleaker side of Blackpool. “But I think it's really important to write something that people can be immersed in and find some sort of solace in. Somewhere they can escape to from the modern day pressures and everything that’s going on. We’re all in this together.”