Buscar:the sound machine

Limitierte Auflage von Alex Gs Original-Soundtrack zu ,I Saw the TV Glow", gepresst auf blauem Glow-Vinyl, mit holografischem Cover und einem ,Mr. Melancholy"-Aufkleber. Der von Alex G komponierte Soundtrack zu ,I Saw The TV Glow" (Original Motion Picture Score) wurde am 16. Mai 2024 von A24 Music veröffentlicht und umfasst 20 atmosphärische und eindringliche Titel. Das Album hat eine Spieldauer von 41 Minuten und enthält Titel wie ,Opening Theme from The Pink Opaque" und ,Downed Power Line", die die unheimliche Klangwelt für Jane Schoenbruns Film untermalen. Dieses Projekt ist Alex Gs zweiter Film-Score nach seiner Arbeit an ,We're All Going to the World's Fair". Der Alex G Original Score von "I Saw The TV Glow" unterscheidet sich vom Soundtrack-Album des Films, auf dem Künstler wie Caroline Polachek, Phoebe Bridgers und Sloppy Jane zu hören sind.

‘Sings Again’ is the fifth album from British electronic musician Will Samson. After starting the decade with a pair of largely instrumental albums, Samson… sings again.

The familiar collection of old tape machines that have characterised much of Samson’s sound remain (with a 1971 Seinnheiser microphone for the vocals), firmly rooting ‘Sings Again’ in an organic sonic landscape of electronic and acoustic influences.

Taking inspiration from the early works of Bjork, Four Tet and Efterklang, much of the album was built upon recording and then sampling organic sounds such as twigs, rocks and paintbrushes to create percussion. An empty glass bottle was transformed into the otherworldly organ on raw opener ‘0333AM, and his own voice became the moody synth sound on the sparse electronica of ‘Darabuka.’ Elsewhere, the hypnotic, emotionally resonant ‘Time Used To Feel Like’ and grandiose album finale ‘Julian’s Rocks’ offer a raw and direct insight into the most vulnerable parts of himself – a long-established artist beginning again.

XDCVR_ unveils 'I HATE THAT SHIT, I HATE ALL THAT SHIT' a blistering sonic manifesto on the 'performativity of decay'.

In a world saturated with digital perfection, the album emerges as a vital, hand-made act of electronic rebellion.

Framed as a "soundtrack for the end stretch" the record explores the notion that societal decay is not a passive process, but an active performance—a machine chugging along long after its wheels have fallen off.

This is cyborg music for a bifurcated reality: carbon-fiber toughness shielding a core of systemic rot. The sound palette is intentionally raw and imperfect, a direct challenge to the sterile, automated order of what the artist calls the "techno-fascist oligarchy."

Tracks eschew conventional temporality, mirroring the feeling of existing in two concurrent timelines—one hyper-aware of the collapse, the other numbly consuming it.

Drawing a line from the Cold War anxieties of the past to the data-farming dystopia of the present, 'I HATE THAT SHIT…' posits art as the last authentic incubator for societal change. It is, in the artist's words, "a deliberate 'fuck you' to the oppressive order of the status quo. This is not easy listening; it is a contested space, a lit fuse, and a necessary noise for our complicated times."

“One of Berghain’s longest-serving residents, Luke Slater has been defining bleepy, polyrhythmic, industrial-strength techno as Planetary Assault Systems since the mid-nineties. P.A.S albums tend to come together in their own time:

“External signals and signs combine until the recipe feels right, both musically and from being ‘out there’,” Slater adds. “10 years since I released Arc Angel on Ostgut Ton, and it’s a fitting pleasure to combine live show ideas and studio work for the new album, served up with raw energy” That patience runs through his whole Ostgut catalogue; since Temporary Suspension brought its machine-tooled weight and alien feeling to the label in 2009, each P.A.S. release on Ostgut Ton has been its own quest for discovery, from The Messenger’s search for sounds not yet present in club music to Arc Angel’s focus on melody to the deep hypnosis of Plantae.

His new album, Planetary People has the deliberate imagination and depth of a record that took its time, shaped as much by live rooms and crowds as by the studio.

“Into The Night” creates a haunting, dystopic environment of corroded acid saturated in echo, absorbing from the first second. “Labyrinth” breaks into buoyant tribal percussion, modulated chirps trading off over propulsive drums. “Quadrant 10” is clean, delay-drenched techno, buzzing with noise splatters over saturated thuds. “Sermon Of The Light Tides” scrambles metallic bell sequences that distort and evolve throughout, reminiscent of a dial-up modem crossed with a game of Frogger, squelching between percussive bursts and stripped-back kicks. “Brave Cosmo” is tormentingly menacing, eerie synths panning around buried vocal fragments over frantic percussion. “Retina Burn” rolls on fierce, cement-mixer 909 cycles, rave stabs over a ride that locks you in, the whole track stuttering and repeating before stripping back to a bare echoing kick and building itself again. “Thunder Major” barrels on open hats and reverb-drenched claps ricocheting through twisting wreaths of delay, mesmeric and relentless. “Beton Brut” marches juggernaut percussion stamping through hall reverb so vast you can visualise the room, the darkest and most unrelenting track on the record. “No Ninja” crunches in metallic and immediate, a wiry plucked lead threading through glitch with the bass held low and deep, mixed so precisely you can see every layer stacked in your mind’s eye. “Ha Jam” is danceable techno with plenty of funk and a sophisticated looseness, a vocal laugh bouncing off clanging metal blocks and rave stabs. “Lynx” lowpasses its rave stabs and crystalline beeps, chirpy hats ticking, cold metal repeats, old school and mesmeric. “Generation Slip” closes everything out, ominous and churning, skittering percussion and electrical sparks rattling through steel, a freight train barrelling on into oblivion.

The open skies of Ochre's new album, Oversail, replace the dense canopies of his last, Understory back in 2020. This time, UK-born, Netherlands-based talent Christopher Leary trades rhythmic intricacy for something more exposed and reflective on a record that unfolds in measured steps, with each passage revealing fragile melodies set against sparse, shifting frameworks. There's a tactile quality to the sound design, hardware elements clicking and sighing like ageing machinery still in motion. Tracks feel suspended and the focus is on slow revelation across the quietly affecting 'Casadastra', airy beauty of 'Meristem' and hopeful synth sequencing of 'Canthropa.'

Focus 21 is back with a second sizzling disco drop, this time in the form of 'Boogie Magic Vol 1', which has its feet firmly rooted in the 80s and the iconic machine sounds of that era. All four cuts are super tight and super funky from Gateway Jones, starting with 'Transmission', which is turbocharged with razzle-dazzle. 'Contact Zone' is slightly deeper and more sensuous with its playful synths and wriggling baseline. 'Non - Physical Boogie' is a taught stepper with loose claps and funky licks, then 'Midnight Call' closes with more of the same - feel good, uplifting but classy and sophisticated disco-boogie brilliance. A vital EP full of craft.

Few artists can conjure up the sort of spirituality that Fred P manages whenever he turns on his machines - and this brand new label from the artist means we'll be getting a shedload more of it. Sometimes it's deep, muggy, insular, at others more outward-looking and cosmic. And that's what we have here - emotionally dense sounds on 'Galaxy Walk (Journey mix)' with jazzy motifs off in the distance, spoken words in the foreground and dancing percussion that is optimistic and hopeful. 'Modern Art Talk' is just as balmy as you journey through a sound world that feels as infinite as space itself, while Fred himself muses on his art. 'Inner Channels (edit 4)' is a dusty shuffler marbled with muted chords and brighter melodic stars that feel impromptu and layered in live.

Fresh from flexing his scalpel skills via an impressive double 12-inch for Hot Biscuit Recordings, The Mighty Zaf once more joins forces with regular studio buddy Linkwood for two more tried-and-tested reworks. 'Get Another Love' is particularly potent, with the duo combining elements from a vintage disco-soul workout - glistening guitars, bass, vocals, strings - with a vintage-sounding drum machine beat which alternates between sweat-soaked Chicago-house jack and post-electro swing. 'He Made You Mine', meanwhile, is a straight edit of a slow, loved-up, immersive and horn-laden disco-soul gem that switches from loved-up downtempo loveliness to punchy dancefloor excellence midway through.

Silvana Rossi emerges from the new wave of Italo revivalists with a sound that feels both timeless and sharply contemporary, where vintage drum machines, analog synth lines and nocturnal romance collide with a modern club sensibility. Rooted in classic Italo disco but filtered through today’s underground circuitry, her music speaks directly to selectors navigating the space between wave, electro and slow-burning techno. The tracks carry a distinctly personal edge—melancholy, desire, and late-night introspection wrapped in icy melodies and hypnotic grooves. This is music made for dimly lit booths, smoke-filled basements, and DJs who still believe in storytelling through vinyl.

A seductive opener “Elixir Of Love” built on cascading arps and a steady pulse, romantic but restrained, like a whispered confession over a rolling bassline. Perfect for setting the tone early set. Tension-driven and emotionally charged, italo anthem “Breakdown” balances crisp electro rhythms with a sense of inner collapse. A cold wave-leaning cut that hits hardest when the lights stay low and the energy turns inward. Shades Of The Night – a cinematic slow-burner drenched in shadow and atmosphere. This one is all about texture and space. Walk In The Night, another italo classic on the EP, stripped-back and hypnotic, with a confident groove that nods to classic Italo while staying firmly rooted in modern club aesthetics. “Bad Girl” brings a sharper, more playful edge, driving, stylish, and slightly dangerous. A weapon with crossover appeal for electro and wave crowds alike. A versatile tool for both warm-ups and deeper moments. Emotionally direct yet sonically controlled lush pads and restrained vocals create a sense of distance that pulls you in “Don’t Leave Me”. A melancholic highlight for DJs who know how to play with tension.

"Over the past three decades, Philipp Lauer has produced an incredible body of work, deploying a myriad of aliases, both as a solo artist and as a part of collaborative projects. From his hardware-steeped Frankfurt studio Pyramide 2, he has built this catalogue through original material and remix commissions, taking on the full spectrum of electronic music while retaining an unmistakable signature. He combines a hands-on approach to rhythm and composition with a DIY MO and a love of big hooks. The level of expertise at hand seems to facilitate a playfulness that subtly permeates all layers of his work. He's a pop melody natural who just so happens to love fiddling with synthesizers, drum machines, and effects an equal amount. All of these qualities are exemplified on "Embalmed In Martino": Lauer's four-track ode to the Belgian Martino sauce, a spicy tomato-based condiment, and arguably the essential ingredient to top off the namesake raw meat sandwich. On "Embalmed", which makes use of instrumentation that would fit right in on an early eighties Manchester cut, and "Martino", where a sturdy, electroclash flavored arp bass provides the stamina, a slew of big and small riffs easily work their way in, thirsting for our ears. On the other side, "Transactional" combines Miami basslines and similarly electro-fundamental twinkling synth work with a flanger-laced 4/4 beat, while "Don't You Know" features soaring synthwave patterns and the only vocal samples on the EP. Both sport rich arrangements as well, right down to the cowbell overdubs. Lauer's often lauded for his "summery sound". In this light ALT026 lands right on time - yet we might disagree here, as it's suited for all seasons, and all terrains, both the shiny festival grounds and the dim-lit club floors."

Toddsonic33 lands on Frequencies Rhythm Life with The Love EP, a refined continuation of his journey through punchy drum machines and soulful disco samples, all shaped by his distinctive and forward-thinking production style.
Five expertly crafted tracks, features a special contribution from Code 90 on A1, each rooted in the unmistakable spirit of Chicago house while pushing the sound in fresh, contemporary directions. Packed with groove, warmth, and energy, The Love EP is built for the dancefloor—an essential weapon for DJs and house music lovers alike:

The Teflon Dons' Rudiments EP, released in 1996 on Worldship Music and now reissued on FRL Classic edition, is one of those records that perfectly embodies the most authentic spirit of 90s underground deep house. From the very first bars, Rudiments EP stands out for its raw but deeply soulful sound, built on filtered samples, “dirty” drum machines (typically SP-1200) and an aesthetic that mixes Chicago and Detroit.

Chins For Lefty is the debut album and first recording by Gichard, a new duo chronicling the absurdities of end-stage capitalism and mouldering social rituals from their vantage point in Glasgow, Scotland. Recorded primarily in the band’s home studio straight to tape, Chins For Lefty combines gorgeous, ramshackle melody, DIY kosmische punk, drum machine + synth and, in vocalist/lyricist Lisa Jones, an absurdist commentator on the human condition as it navigates the anxieties of the modern world. Instrumentalist Chas Lalli’s swirling music accompaniment stitches an evocative mix of musical styles, the ragged wind beneath the lyrics’ wings.

Although the duo first collaborated in their previous group Dragged Up, their disparate musical and artistic backgrounds make for an alluring mix in Gichard. Lalli has spent the last 20 years in the Glasgow underground, most notably in the noise rock group VOM, while Lisa Jones’s practice was in poetry and spoken word. Beginning as co vocalist in her previous band, in Gichard her lyrics are centre stage; the vision concocted alongside Lalli amounts to a total world-build.

Chins For Lefty scans almost like a novel, with each track elucidating a skewed universe that bears only some resemblance to the one you and I partake in. Like all works of fiction Gichard’s songs are rooted in reality and the lived experiences of its authors, but here characters are exaggerated, social mores and habits are pulled apart to reveal their inherent alienness. Universal emotions are laid bare, the bright light of anxious examination searching out every hairline fracture in our relationships. Distorted and cracked, the mirror that Gichard hold up to our world is also pretty damn funny.

Opener Cholesterol Test launches an expansive, cosmic guitar and synth intro that belies the Tascam-tape recorder it was recorded onto, like a Chromatics cut substituting anxiety for overt sexuality. Here Jones intones an apology to a non-responsive recipient, in the medium of a long voice note forensically deconstructing an interaction from the night before. Over punk guitars and shuffling, lo-fi drum machine splutters, the narrator in Asking The Apes “prefers things to people” before being taken hostage in the city zoo to confess an obsession which consumes the protagonist, ending with the immortal two liner “I sleep in a cocoon of old newspapers at the end of your street / And I think I have been fired from my job,” On album standout Posthumous Hologram, the narrator is faced with a human simulacra, in this case an undead pop star; the face of the encroaching technological singularity. Yes, it does requests, it can do My Way in 200 different language options. But what are the implications? While you’re left pondering, the alternating deadpan verse delivery and undeniably catchy chorus keep you company.

By the time Break Up With Johnny Dogbirth rattles into view, the band are satirising a suburban inanity blown up to cartoon proportions, soundtracked with a drawled musicality that recalls Rowland S. Howard’s post-Birthday Party balladeering. This approach is furthered on Human Resources: over an angular guitar+bass track, Jones’s short story recalls Dry Cleaning’s erudite lyrical post punk. On Soft Face, Lalli’s guitar and drum machine are swathed in echo and delay, as Jones dissects dating rituals with a west of Scotland drollness. Hamming It Up brings a porcine perspective in a short story that begins with the line “I was breastfeeding discreetly in the service station. She didn’t mind.” What follows is a passage punctured with canned laughter and a narrative involving tribute acts, modern farming techniques.

Brilliant first single Your Private Hell closes the album, the closest the group get to earnest perhaps, filtered through a surreal central Scottishness. While Your Private Hell might seem like a sardonic take down of romance, perhaps it’s the very distillation of love in all its awkwardness, selflessness and weirdness. Here there’s a distinctive Glasgow-ness to this doomed romance: the protagonist falls for an outsider, offers them cheap jarred hot dogs and carbolic soap (the infamous, excoriating soap dished out in schools and government buildings throughout Scotland), offers to cover up a murder, stalks them in the all-night Spar. It’s a short story of intrigue, murder and the irresistible pull of self-sacrifice to share in someone else’s suffering. If that’s not love, what is it? You can see this vision mapped out in black and white on their video for 'Your Private Hell'.

Nate Krafft (Nathaniel Killins IV) is a visionary Detroit producer whose 1990s work were released under his own name and aliases such as Super Nova and Naquil and have since become highly collectible. He later re-emerged as Nate Nubia, continuing to experiment techno infused with machine soul and cosmic imagination.

In 1995, he dropped two cult 12"s on his own Infra label: Man ?? Machine and Crimson Arsenal, blending Detroit techno with electro edges and sci-fi atmospheres exploringuncharted territories. These sought-after EPs, which sounded futuristic long before their time, are brought together for the first time as one limited edition red vinyl 2x12".

Please also consider his Planetary Invazion EP, under his Super Nova alias, reissued in 2018 on the same label.

New Stand High Patrol album, featuring Joe Yorke, Nazamba, Jah Thomas - and remixes from Mad Professor, Androo & Jeanville.


Dub and House Music. Two aesthetics born in the shadows, shaped far from the mainstream music industry. Two underground cultures where independence is often a necessity and ingenuity is essential. Two scenes rooted in the margins of society, with dance, sound systems and minorities at their heart.
From the Jamaican sound system sessions of the late sixties, through the nights at Chicago's Warehouse, to the murmurings of the New York house scene in the early eighties — history shows that house, reggae and dub share far more than many people may assume. Collective action, resistance as a driving force, music moving straight from studio to turntable, shared messages: these are the threads that bind these landmark musical movements together. It is at this crossroads, driven by the spirit of experimentation that defines them, that the members of Stand High Patrol found yet another territory worth mapping.
"Skanking & Jacking", the new Musketeerz album, reveals a side of the Dubadub sound never heard on record before. Built for the dancers and for DJs, the LP brings together the pulse of house music and the vibrant groove of reggae. Uncharted territory, never interfaced like this before. The result of a meticulous blending of styles, house, reggae and dub intertwine across 12 extended tracks. The sound is carefully crafted. Built on immersive loops and interlaced with micro-variations that give it an organic texture. Born from the interaction between being and machine. This is not about simply bringing worlds closer together; it's about mobilising influences to chart a new sonic galaxy.


Beyond it's aesthetic statement, "Skanking & Jacking" also stands out for its international cast. The most extensive Stand High Patrol have ever assembled on an album. From England, Italy, Switzerland and Jamaica, the guest vocalists, producers and MCs deepen the sense of dialogue between cultures and styles. At the mic, Joe Yorke, Marina P, Nazamba and Jah Thomas join the Dubadub Musketeerz on their explorations. Each appearance subtly reshaping the contours of the project.
Never fixed, always in motion, "Skanking & Jacking" pays tribute to the traditions that shaped it and closes, as a final nod, with remixes from Jeanville, Androo and the legendary Mad Professor. The album stands as further proof of a crew that shows no signs of stopping its reinvention. Available on stream, digital and double LP on May 29th.

2026 Repress!

The story begins in 2000 in Britany (France). Two guys decide to create a sound system with the aim of sharing their common passion for roots reggae and early digital. Rootystep (selecta) and MacGyver (operator) begin to collect records and purchase music equipment. They are quickly joined by Pupajim who becomes the MC, the singer and the dub builder. The Stand High Patrol first toured the land of Brittany, gradually moving towards stepper dub production emanating from the English stage. Fifteen years later, the sound is more present than ever. Stand High has created a true identity and has established itself as one of the essential sound systems of the French dub scene. In 2009, Stand High Patrol creates his own label "Stand High Records". In 2012, after releasing several records, the Dubadub Musketeerz present their debut album "Midnight Walkers", 13 exclusives & wicked tracks inna pure Dubadub Style. In 2015 the dubadub experience takes on new dimensions with their second album : "A Matter Of Scale". In 2017 they are back with "The Shift" a third LP totally dedicated to Boom Bap & 90s Hip Hop. Words, blue notes, boom bap and bad news: here comes "The Shift", the third album of Stand High Patrol.

IN 2017, TRYING TO MAKE BOOM BAP FROM THE 90s, INSPIRED BY JAZZ FROM THE 60s, MIXED WITH MACHINES FROM THE 50s

Lyrics, Boom bap and bad news: Stand High Patrol present their third album 'The Shift' and confirm their attachment to 90s hiphop.

Still compelled by the space they first opened, Gūsū returns with a second release, “Inhabiting Me”. What began as a shared approach, sprouted from intuition, has grown denser and more defined, holding on to that same fragility and openness. The duo continues to befriend with contrast, friction and proximity, shaping a language that inhabits their uncommon ground.

Vintage drum machines, tape delays and bass guitar widen the sonic ground, adding pulse, grain and instability, while the guzheng holds its place in full clarity. Each sound source becomes each other’s ornament, forming to gesture the next currents.

What emerges is less a fixed composition than a shifting form: precise in detail, impossible to contain. Listeners who have experienced Gūsū’s live performances will recognise this rare quality: a music of great sensitivity that expands with quiet force, drawing them inward rather than confronting them directly. The sound fades, re-enters, and leaves behind the trace of a lighthearted heaviness, echoing back in fragments, reappearing in memory with altered weight and colour.

Time bends inward and tones return altered. Between repetition and resonance, a tensile form begins to emerge. Neither nostalgic nor futuristic, neither static nor loose. Gūsū does not merge its materials into one smooth surface; it lets them stand close enough to sharpen one another.

Gūsū is a transcultural music project born from the confluence of two distinct artistic voices: Xueyan Chen and Nicolas Balmer. Together, they create a complex dialogue of sound that bridges the ancient and the modern, exploring the liminal spaces between tradition and experimentation. Gūsū’s inception was serendipitous, sparked by a shared stage in late 2022. What began as spontaneous improvisations has since evolved into a profound collaboration. The duo has performed under various monikers, finding their ultimate identity in the name Gūsū, a nod to both heritage and transformation.

Sometimes the title of an album tells you everything you need to know. Laurence Pike’s Possible Utopias for Jazz Quintet is like that: The music within represents a search for freedom, potentiality—liberatory strategies that transcend the ego and the solitary, atomized figure.

But in this case, the album title is also a red herring, because there is no jazz quintet here—just Pike, his drums, and his machines, not so much an ersatz ensemble as a purely notional one, a thought experiment equipped with drumsticks, circuitry, and the desire to go beyond hardwired limits.

And the results, strictly speaking, aren’t really jazz, though they incorporate the vocabulary of jazz, along with that of ambient, electronica, and post-rock. They are some other thing, cognizant of genre but never beholden to it. Again, we’re talking about a search for freedom here.

The Sydney-based musician has a long history of coloring outside the lines, not just in his solo recordings—including four albums for the Leaf label between 2018 and 2024—but also in the trio Pivot (later PVT); Szun Waves (alongside saxophonist Jack Wyllie and Border Community’s Luke Abbott); Triosk, which recorded an album with Jan Jelinek in 2003; and even post-punk titans Liars, whom he joined in late 2018.

Of his first album for Balmat, Pike says, “My loose concept was: What does music sound like when the expectations of late capitalism are removed from it? How might a jazz musician from an idealised culture of the future, or even another world, utilise musical language when the conventions of style and marketing are no longer a factor in music making?”

That inquiry, he says, connects to his “guiding principle: that the purpose of music is to access something bigger than the individual, and reveal a sense of possibility and freedom in the world to the listener. To create an understanding that the future can be something other than what we imagined or expect, even unconsciously.”

Heady ideas, but plug into his stream-of-metaconsciousness flow and you may start to intuit what motivates him. There is a deeply lyrical expression in these pieces—in the ruminative piano of opener “Guardians of Memory,” for example—but also a sense of exploded perspective, of ideas approached from more angles than any one mind could dream up. Of a collectivized consciousness, of mycelial networks branching across tone and rhythm and timbre, of ideas articulated in distributed fashion, nodal points dancing across drum heads.

Pike’s imaginary quintet is hardly without precedent; it’s a continuation of concepts floated across Jan Jelinek’s Loop-Finding-Jazz-Records, Burnt Friedman’s many guises, and much of the recombinant improv of the International Anthem roster, not to mention the far corners of ECM’s catalog in the late 1970s and 1980s, which Pike says have been integral to his development since he was a teenager. Possible Utopias for Jazz Quintet is a point in a continuum, a voice in a conversation, a question with no obvious answer: How can the search for otherness in music manifest something true about ourselves?

Toronto’s Ducks Ltd. (formerly Ducks Unlimited), the bright jangle-pop duo of Tom McGreevy (lead vocal, guitar, bass, keyboards) and Evan Lewis (guitar, bass, drum programming), accomplish the impossible. The pair craft songs that play to very specific inspirations without drowning underneath them—immediately evidenced on their critically acclaimed EP, Get Bleak, and sharpened on Modern Fiction, their debut LP. “The Servants, The Clean, The Chills, The Bats, Television Personalities, Felt,” Evan rattles off. “Look Blue Go Purple is one I reference a lot with our production.” Echoes of ‘80s indiepop abound, but they never overwhelm. This is not a nostalgic record, after all, nor is it a derivative one. Instead, across 10 cheery-sounding songs, Ducks Ltd. explore contemporary society in decline, examining large scale human disaster through personal turmoil (hence the title, taken from a university course called Gnosticism and Nihilism in Modern Fiction, influenced by Graham Greene novels. Bookish indie fans, look no further.)

Writing the album was intimate. Tom drafted the nucleus of a song on an unplugged electric guitar and brought it over to Evan’s apartment, where the pair sat in his bedroom, placing percussive beats from a drum machine under nascent melodies, passing a bass back and forth, adding organs and bridges where necessary. “It’s computer music trying extremely hard not to sound like computer music,” Tom jokes. Fearful that limited and expensive studio time would kneecap the project creatively, eroding their charming naivete, the pair re-recorded the album in a storage space owned by Evan’s boss. Ornamentation through collaboration followed: there’s Aaron Goldstein on Pedal Steel in the Go-Betweens’ “Cattle and Cane”-channeling interlude “Patience Wearing Thin,” Eliza Niemi on cello (“18 Cigarettes,” a song loosely inspired by a 1997 Oasis performance of “Don’t Go Away”), and backing harmonies from Carpark labelmates The Beths (on an ode to friendship at a distance, “How Lonely Are You?,” “Always There,” and on the sped-up Syd Barrett stylings of “Under The Rolling Moon.”) While in his native Australia due to covid-19, Evan worked closely with producer James Cecil (The Goon Sax, Architecture in Helsinki) on Modern Fiction’s finishing touches—at one point, in the mountains of the Macedon Ranges in Victoria, recorded a string quartet (featured on “Fit to Burst,” “Always There,” “Sullen Leering Hope,” “Twere Ever Thus,” “Grand Final Day.”)

It’s danceable, depressive fun, with some relief: in “Always There” and “Sullen Leering Hope,” Modern Fiction’s faithful heart. “There’s a tendency in my writing, because of my world view, to be very bleak.” Tom explains. “A quality I don’t always see in myself and really appreciate in others is the courage to go on.” And yet, the record manages resiliency—enough for pop fans to fall in love with.

Cyphon Recordings continue their deep dive into the rich heritage of UK and Detroit electronic sounds with their second label release, this time from Danny Was A Drag King label boss DJ Rocca.

Active since the 90s, the Italian producer is a dedicated explorer of the Italo Disco-inspired sounds native to his home. He’s been plotting his sonic journey for decades, making pit stops at labels across Europe including Rekids,Toy Tonics, Slow Motion, Rotten City Records and Roam Recordings. On top of his solo outings, collaboration has played a big role in his production journey to date. He’s worked with artists like Howie B, Jazzanova and Zed Bias, as well as joining forces on ongoing projects with fellow Italian stalwart Daniele Baldelli and Dimitri From Paris, the latter under the name Erodiscotique.

Now back on his solo pursuits for Cyphon, Rocca proves he’s still very much at the top of his game. The four cuts on ‘Code 041’ explore all shades of electro, from raw, old school machine funk to futuristic cosmic sounds. It’s electro done the Rocca way.

The title track sets the tone. An eerie bass line crawls along, providing a bed for reflective pads to glide and mysterious synth sounds and echoing vocal samples to ricochet above. ‘No Gym’ greets us next, bringing that Italo flair Rocca’s mastered so well. It’s the most vibrant track on the release, matching colourful pinging synths and tropical-tinged melodies with a signature driving acid bass line.

On the flip, ‘The Bigger Lake’ takes the EP in a different direction, on a trip through dark glistening pads, tittering percussion and sub aquatic bass before the dusty breaks and moody, jazzy keys of ‘Omega’ bring the release to a close. Mirroring Cyphon’s label ethos, Rocca showcases the best of the past and present of a timeless sound.