On Chuck Strangers’ latest opus, Glory Of The King’s Hand, he raps, “I still rap from the perspective of my government name…” The stage name “Chuck Strangers” is, of course, an alias but it’s not necessarily an alter ego. For the man born Che Jessamy, his rap moniker isn’t some over-the-top rock star persona contrived for public consumption, it’s just a name. What you hear on his records is really who he is - a heavy-tongued griot from East Flatbush, Brooklyn with a gift for vivid stream-of-consciousness storytelling. His bars are imbued with the wisdom he’s gained in his lifetime - especially in the 14 years since he first made his debut with the Pro Era collective.
The elaborate title of his new album, Glory Of The King’s Hand, speaks to his gratitude for the hand that life’s dealt him, which is a pretty good one. At age 34, he does what he loves professionally and does it on his own terms. That’s something to be thankful for.
Glory Of The King’s Hand, not only represents Chuck’s matured attiGlory attitude but also his matured sound. Key to this refined approach was tude collaboration. Chuck is a proficient beatmaker in his own right as evidenced by his production for himself and artists like Joey Baevidenced Badass, and Boldy James. But this time around Chuck chose to be a dass, producer in the Quincy Jones sense of the word, bringing together vocalists, producers, and musicians instead of handling all of the beats and rhymes himself. d Up Reprise
The list of contributing producers is a who’s who of underground sound scientists including The Alchemist, Animoss, Theravada, Kensound Kenny Segal, Preservation, Child Actor, and Morriarchi.
The songs of Jules de Corte are condensed, folky gems with an almost effortless charm. Poised between the intimate and the universal, between lightness and darkness, they touch on religion, love, loss, and the small dramas of everyday life. Yet they resist easy translation. Packed with wordplay, de Corte’s signature alliterations, humor, and local cultural references, the songs inevitably lose something in another language. Still, when a Belgian quartet of improvisers takes them on, joined by American songwriter Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, the songs are reborn rather than merely transposed: literal fidelity gives way to interpretation, and what is lost in words is often gained in spirit.
Even without tracing every change, their overall effect is fascinating. Songs are slowed down, often doubled in length, and filled with unexpected musical intrusions. They gain fuller arrangements and are placed in an entirely new context. Replacing de Corte’s piano with guitar can create a radically different vibe, as in “Mariska.” An added solo can heighten the contrast between childlike perspective and the almost matter- of-fact brutality of “Little Anita.” In “The Stranger,” another use of contrast unsettles the everyday harmony, transforming it with a subtle, disorienting twist.
Ultimately, these performances show that interpretation is not successful simply because it is literal. With the groundwork laid by Linus, Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy further liberated the songs from their original versions. Lyrics and melodies become malleable, shaped by his recognizable cadences, timbre, and personal quirks. Like his collaborators, he allows himself the freedom to bend the material to his own approach. There is no radical break between this performance and his other records. Listeners familiar with the originals may be puzzled at first; for those new to de Corte, it is a wholly different experience.
Does it really matter that the original “Little Jesus, Mighty God” is a 100-second nugget combining playful naivete with biblical fervor? In the hands of these five explorers, the song becomes an intriguing contemplation, with subtle musical shades and a recitation in which every syllable carries a maturity that offers a new perspective. Then there is “The Outsider,” which feels as genuine as any original American folk song. The musicians’ process is more than reinterpretation—it is reimagination, bringing new musical compatibility and emotional depth. Whether that depth was there from the start, waiting to be uncovered, or created in the process is beside the point. What matters is that Linus and Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy have made the essence of these songs their own, paying homage yet dancing to their own tune.
Linus is the Belgian duo of guitarist and banjo player Ruben Machtelinckx and reedist and synthesiser player Thomas Jillings. Across five previous albums — Onland (2014), Linus + Skarbø / Leroux (2015), Felt Like Old language at the crossroads of folk, jazz, minimalism, chamber music and free improvisation. Their music is adventurous, shaped by a particular sensitivity to texture, timbre and the subtle interaction between musicians.
What began as a duo gradually grew into a flexible musical world, bringing Linus together with musicians such as Nils Økland, Ingar Zach, Niels Van Heertum, Øyvind Skarbø and Frederik Leroux. Yet each new constellation has remained recognisably Linus: music in which carefully considered forms leave space for intuition, interaction and the unexpected.
For their sixth album, Linus takes a new step by moving into the world of song and text. Inspired by a shared love for the late Dutch songwriter Jules De Corte, the album is a reimagining of De Corte’s unique repertoire. More than simply interpreting De Corte’s songs, they absorb and reshape them, bringing them into dialogue with their own musical language. In keeping with this open approach, they are joined by celebrated vocalist Bonnie “Prince” Billy. With albums such as 1999’s I See a Darkness appearing on several greatest album lists, Bonnie “Prince” Billy is a cult figure in the alternative folk scene, and his highly intuitive way of singing seamlessly matches the subtle interplay Linus has developed over more than a decade.
A Portal To The Unknown – 7 Rotations of Neptune Discs brings together 12 producers across a double LP. Tifra and Match Box return following their own ep’s on the label this year, joined by familiar contributors Wigs, Aiden Francis, Jeku, Cybernet and Mahkina. COZi, Dive Crew and Thurlow Joyce make their first appearances, with Milès Borghese and Biodive completing the four sides.
Run independently by Astro from Edinburgh, Neptune Discs treats the exploratory ideas of ’90s and early-’00s club music as unfinished business. Prog, trance, tech house and dub techno remain reference points rather than templates, with more than 50 releases—and the arrival of Jupiter’s Depth and Pyramid Fields—allowing that identity to keep developing.
Wigs’ “Strangers” and Aiden Francis’ “Uno” bring warped, driving prog. COZi makes his Neptune debut with “Ride The Snake”, a lean, stripped-back tech-house roller that brings early-2000s economy into the present. Jeku follows with “Droop”, a trippy, ozone-soaked slow roller, while Thurlow Joyce closes with the warm, deeply submerged dub techno of “Sundowner”.
Beyond the vinyl, three digital exclusives expand the release: Bert Vesper’s “Babbel Truc”, Azzecca’s “Home” and Foley’s “What Could’ve Been”.
Featuring artwork by theAJM, the release is pressed across two 12-inches, distributed by One Eye Witness and arrives on 23 October 2026.
Budapest based concept label Blue Sun arrives with the 3rd edition of their annual VA series, showcasing a colorful taste of the local underground music scene, with some international sidenotes.
Following up on the label’s customs, the 19-track selection is not only released digitally, but also on a limited 200-piece cassette series. Curated by the label heads, the tracks follow Blue Sun's listening-oriented concept without genre restrictions with downtempo, trip-hop, jazz, dub, balearic, ambient, experimental, and electronica as highlights, with pieces that are more difficult to classify.
As before, instead of the usual A-B markings, the two sides are divided by the label's colors: “ORANGE” contains more organic and high-energy music, while “BLUE” contains more pensive and experimental tracks. Moreover, the selection has been carefully curated so that it can be listened to as an endless loop: the end of a side always resonates with the beginning of the other, wherever the listener begins.
The list of contributing artists this year are truly various and just as impressive. From uniqe debuting local artists to internationally recognised performers, it gives a taste of how the Hungarian underground scene sounds like atm. Important to note, that the release marks another debut: the label’s new visual identity by Blue Sun’s new designer, Péter Tóth.
2026 Repress
In the ever-expanding universe of deep house, Julius Steinhoff is far from being a stranger. Half of the dynamic duo Smallpeople, founder and one of the steersmen behind Hamburg's Smallville empire (record store/ label/ party curator around the globe) as well as a producer and DJ in his own right, Steinhoff is closely associated with a group of like-minded people that unite fresh ideas and individualism with a certain consciousness of tradition. That 'Flocking Behaviour' is well embodied in Steinhoff's debut album by the same name. After a string of 12-inches for the likes of Live at Robert Johnson, Geography or his own-brand Smallville and the very well-received Smallpeople long-player 'Salty Days", Julius Steinhoff makes a submission that is all his. Rooted in the elegiac variety of the big three (New York, Chicago & Detroit) and a romantic concept of house music that is at times utopian, the album gathers eight tracks that evoke late nights, hazy mornings and walks on thin air. But 'Flocking Behaviour' is by no means anachronistic: Tracks like 'Under A Waterfall' could be made in just the same manner by a puerile Baby Ford in 1989 as they represent a swaying dance floor in 2014. 'Treehouse' or the title track 'Flocking Behaviour' are experiences that make you feel like meeting new people who instantly greet you like old friends. With someone that works and lives in the here and now, Steinhoff seemingly has no interest in revisionism, complains or antagonism, his approach is welcoming and caring, embracing and mesmerizing. Along the way, his musical apparatus never makes use of cheap tricks or antique clichés.
Quiet, from the Latin quies, evokes a state of being still. In its verb form, quiet means to clear so that something can gradually come into focus. Kind Stranger by Amedeo Cappelletti is where quiet materializes in a more transient, even foreign, way. Each track takes a step back from noise, borne out of a slow return to music, a different pace, and a familiar place left behind for years.
Kind Stranger, released on Aurora Edition on July 24th, is about the strangeness of a return. Cappelletti's melodic scores work their way between faint noise and disquiet, and sonically muse upon the familiar. That is, when given enough time and distance, the familiar can become unrecognizable, demanding stillness to resituate oneself within it.
The album began taking shape when Cappelletti performed at Aurora Edition at Silent Green, just after he had returned to music following a three-year hiatus. In one month, he wrote forty-five minutes of new material from scratch. Then Cappelletti left Berlin after eight years and returned to the Tuscan countryside where he had grown up, back into slowness.
The album develops as an atmosphere in the truest sense. Resampled voices, found sound, and years of sound design practice converge as compositions form by overlapping texture with spatial depth. Kind Stranger cultivates a quietude that envelops the listener.
Vocal recordings made with Matthew Walsh and Sarah McInerney, collaborators Cappelletti met by chance in a Berlin ice cream shop, appear throughout the album like a current, shaped during a residency at MONOM, Berlin's spatial sound institute. Thematically, the record moves through digital addiction, fragmented attention, and the grief of work done in the darkness.
Kind Stranger is an offering to whoever finds themselves here within the quiet, in this particular quality of sound between return and lingering.
Nu Vision is the latest project of Duke Cooper, band leader and label boss of Nation, Kode and DirtyBlends. There are three humans who make up Nu Vision, and they all have their own stories and discographies, records released on labels you might know, gigs played in Chicago or Berlin or someone’s loft, lives lived, friends made, sleep lost - fighting for theirart, standing by truths, defending voices, honoring progenitors, whilst pushing a new paradigm. Time is both fleeting and heavy for us all, but it is not without receipts.
Nu Vision is a band in the classic do-you-believe-in-alchemy sense - equal parts rhythm, damage, and deep feeling. Drenched in nostalgia and futurism, The Seed is a singularity of sound + vision; as if heavily rotated by VJ Dave Kendall on MTV’s 120 Minutes but materialized via today’s technology.
The Seed 10 inch provides additional music inspired significant icons Section 25, Liaisons Dangeruses and Adrian Sherwood having paved the way with their prior successes..- this package of The Seed is no freshman effort; but rather, a masterclass in continuing sonic education, delivering a unified experience from beginning to end. A NU VISION.
The Seed 10 inch provides additional music inspired significant icon band: Section 25 from the period of 1981-1984 with a more electronic-dance direction, process which culminated in the album ' From the Hip ' and remix single "Looking From A Hilltop", both released in 1984 as "Insecure Man is about being true to manhood with Robert Lane leading the charge with his vocabulary message of the current state of society.
Insecure Dub focuses on the period of 1981-1984 with an alternative electronic-dance direction process as an inspired blueprint from Nu Vision inspired from Adrian Sherwood having paved the way with his individual success.
Inspired from electrifying songs produced by Chrislo Haas (DAF) and Beate Bartel (Mania D. / Matador) reinforced by Krishna Goineau’s French and Spanish Speech-Attack-Lyrics Liaisons Dangereuses created a unique style anything other than a Berlin or Düsseldorf ‘thing’ – that was propelled to an international underground phenomenon of fame.
Nu VIsion was inspired to create a blueprint from the period of their productions of 1981-1982 with an electronic-dance direction paying homage with passionate craftsmanship utilizing what equipment was possible in the studio at the time of this recording featuring new members; Zoe Murphy & Fletch The Stranger on vocals and James Chazz on Saxaphone with a Ring Modulator.
Clara is the lead singer of Dakka Skanks, a Ska Punk band based in Brighton UK. Here she delivers two incredible new versions of Reggae classics from Brown Sugar & Rita Marley.
"I really like Clara’s voice, & this is the first of a series of releases from her on Soulside Productions. She is like my little sister; a strong woman who effortlessly captures the sound of the classic female vocalists from 60s & 70s Reggae" Marv Mack, Soulside Productions
Originally released in 1990, as a triple album in box set with probably the best work THE KLINIK ever did. A selection of their musical works all recorded between 1984 & 1988 and never released before, the box came as a limited edition in 1990 and was sold out in no time, and therefor very rare and hard to find.
Now Antler Records has revisited the box, remastered into a sound experience like you never had before; 6 sides packed in newly designed inner sleeves with band photo's (by Inge Bekkers) that have never been published before. 6 sides, three heavy weight vinyl albums in one extra broadened single album sleeve. Cold electronics, shivering spheres, minimal and highly atmospheric, a soundtrack for a still to be made film. A sound experience like you never had before!
The Klinik is Marc Verhaeghen-Music & Dirk Ivens-Lyrics
All Tracks recorded in the Lab between 1984 & 1988
Digitally Remastered in 2026 by Pieter De Wagter(Equus)
Where Sky High, the first release on Zeynep Erbay’s Moments on the Floor, looked upwards, Dans turns its attention to the body. The label’s second release moves into a bolder, more playful space across four house tracks: ‘Dans,’ ‘Find The Girl’ and two distinct versions of ‘Waiting Now.’ Instinctive grooves carry fragmented voices and sudden flashes of acid, while familiar club sounds take on stranger forms. Nostalgic without being tied to one era, Dans moves between yearning and euphoria without losing its dance floor edge.
“Everybody wants the map, but the correct one is not coming. This is understood, somewhere below language, by everyone who wants a map anyway. Meanwhile the map dealers, those slick druids and wizards, goddamn sell-outs, will try to seduce you with one. Don't buy from them. Their maps only show burned black fields.
What passes instead between the ones still walking is smaller and does not require a subscription. A sign. Nailed to a fencepost, or to an unexpected streetlight surrounded by darkness. Left by someone who was thirsty on this road back when you were only a rumor. It says one thing: water, this way.
So leave signs. Just mark the water you found and move along. It is one of the oldest customs - strangers keeping each other alive and hydrated on a long road.”
"The bad news is you're falling; the good news is there's no ground."
The second album from Glasgow's Effective Dreaming (Iain P. Ross), on Texas label Aural Canyon. Six long-form pieces that build slowly, looping and folding in on themselves: glistening synthesiser leads over shifting analogue drones, field recordings surfacing at moments, and fingerpicked acoustic guitar on the opening "Physis". Listening feels like being suspended in a current, gently buffeted, as edges and definitions blur. The follow-up to Dream Catalogue Vol. 1 (Fluere Tapes, 2025). Cassette, edition of 50.
2027 marks two decades since musician and producer Paul ‘Mudd’ Murphy struck out on his own and launched Claremont 56, a label initially dedicated to “music by Mudd and friends” and named after the house he grew up in. To celebrate its 20th anniversary, Murphy has assembled the label’s first ever decades-spanning vinyl retrospective: a six-LP re-mastered collection bringing together key cuts, cult classics, personal favourites, hard-to-find gems and inspired remixes from across the catalogue.
Unlike the label’s previous 10th anniversary box set, which focused on unreleased material and never-before-heard remixes, 20 Years of Claremont 56 traces the musical story of the imprint to date. Across six records, it showcases the distinctive Claremont 56 sound in all its many forms: acoustic, electric and electronic instrumentation, Balearic sunshine, krautrock grooves, folk-inflected psychedelia, slow-burning chuggers and deeply considered dancefloor music.
The set comes housed in a custom box featuring cover art by long-term label illustrator Mark Warrington. Inside are six slabs of vinyl across three gatefold sleeves, accompanied by liner notes from music journalist and author Matt Anniss, Murphy himself, and many of the artists whose music features in the collection.
The journey begins with a selection of formative late-noughties releases, including Mudd & Pollard’s chugging, picturesque ‘Villa Stavros’, the folksy beauty of Smith & Mudd’s ‘Shulme’ and Murphy’s exotic reworking of Ahmed Fakroun’s ‘Drago’. From there, the collection moves freely through deep cuts, overlooked gems, album highlights and some of the most inspired remixes in the label’s catalogue.
Among those remixes is Murphy’s own über-Balearic rework of Zee Erf’s cover of ‘Southern Freeez’, a mix dedicated to his partner Emma; an extraordinary 22-minute, Manuel Göttsching-meets-ambient-dub revision of Smith & Mudd’s ‘Vegetable Square’ by friends-of-the-family Idjut Boys; Larry Heard’s typically deep and immersive house treatment of Jack Cutter’s ‘Serpent Strut’; and Quiet Village’s ambient-house ‘deep space dub’ of Mudd’s ‘Spielplatz’. Also included are lesser-celebrated but no less rewarding reworks by Recloose, Jex Opolis, Felix Dickinson and Deep88.
The collection represents every corner of Claremont 56’s self-contained musical universe, from the Murphy-assembled in-house collectives Hillside, Paqua and Bison - whose members famously included the late Holger Czukay and his life partner Ursula, to long-serving label artists such as Almunia and Hear & Now, as well as later additions and artists who took some of their first steps on the label through its much-loved Claremont Editions compilations.
That means the deeply cosmic krautrock of Bambi Davidson, the folk-meets-Americana of Torn Sail and the samba-electrofunk of Jpye sit alongside baggy Balearic sing-alongs such as Bel’s ‘Ready To Die’ and Sillyboy’s Ghost Relatives’ ‘In a Small Place’, recent high-profile guest releases such as Chaz Jankel’s ‘Rhumba Jam’, and string-laden ambient pieces such as Four Hands’ wonderful ‘Hizou’.
Packed with classic cuts, formative gems and overlooked treats, 20 Years of Claremont 56 is not only a fabulous label retrospective, but also an essential collection of timeless music from a label whose output has remained distinctive and unique for two decades.
“When the flesh gets cut off the soul, it’s not the end.”
More than forty years after hardCORPS emerged from a Brixton basement, ‘Metal & Flesh’ returns in a new expanded edition on double vinyl and CD, newly remastered with the full involvement of surviving members Rob Doran and Clive Pierce. Born from the collision of punk, analogue synthesisers, sequencers, disco, reggae and experimental studio techniques, hardCORPS created electronic music that was as physical and emotional as it was mechanical. The arrival of French vocalist Regine Fetet gave the group its defining identity, placing her raw, uncompromising voice against the dense machinery of Hugh Ashton, Clive Pierce and Rob Doran. Working mainly with a Roland System 100, several Roland MC4 sequencers and later an additional MC500 and Atari ST 1040 computers, etc. pp., hardCORPS always transformed limitations, accidents, distortion and human imperfection into part of the music itself. Although rooted in the early 1980s, ‘Metal & Flesh’ refuses easy nostalgia, retaining the tension, space and character that made hardCORPS unlike their contemporaries. Yet, shall we eventually mention Kraftwerk, maybe let’s quote Ian Shirley from Record Collector magazine: „’Je Suis Passée‘ was not only a love letter to Kraftwerk but penned with such verve, passion and precision that Ralf and Florian probably would have accepted a blind date at a Düsseldorf cocktail bar (…).“ And as Martin Rushent famously said in 1990: “Hard Corps were ignored in their time. Perhaps it is the burden of the adventurous and the innovative to be ignored in their time, which is sad. Don’t ignore them now.”
This new edition has been carefully remastered to preserve that character and dynamics rather than simply making the recordings louder or more ‘modern’, while the artwork has likewise been developed to reflect the band’s original identity. Metal & Flesh’ is not merely an artefact of the 1980s, but a rare and fiercely individual document of four people discovering what happens when human instinct and machines collide.
Remastered by Martin Bowes. Graphic design by hard CORPS and Steve Lippert.
Gatefold sleeve gloss lamination, printed inner sleeves with lyrics, two double-sided hand-numbered.
Boulderhead arrives on Haŵs with ‘Sunshine’ — four cuts that blur the line between club functionality and sonic experimentation. Twisting delays, playful FX work and endlessly shifting textures give the record a voice that's unmistakably his, pushing familiar forms into stranger territory without ever losing sight of the dancefloor.
The title track ‘Sunshine’ opens proceedings with a heads-down trip anchored by a cheeky, tongue-in-cheek vocal hook, swung grooves, and hypnotic momentum. Jorg Kuning steps up on remix duties, gently reshaping the original at every turn. His hardware-led approach keeps the groove in constant motion, each subtle shift revealing another layer without ever breaking the spell. Flip the record and ‘Moonshine’ strips things back into classic Boulderhead territory, while ‘Practice’ closes the EP on a deeper note, pairing lush synth work with beautifully detailed percussion for one final slow burn.
Never too serious, always full of character. The kind of record that keeps giving something new back with every listen.
Nashville’s Jess Kerber focuses on the profound resonances of simple moments, pairing delicate acoustic guitar lines with her rich and captivating tenor. The World Is Dark, but I Want It to Be Funny, her second LP for Felte, is a deeply affecting collection of homespun poetry and natural artistry that finds the artists reflecting on personal history, the emotional intricacies of relationships, and the value of cosmic perspective. She explains,“These songs come from a space of feeling a little left behind, so a lot of the album is about realizing and accepting impermanence, and learning how to be good to yourself and to others.”
Opening with “Familiar Strangers”, Kerber gets to the heart of her greatest talents: fluid fingerpicking, emotive vocal cadences, feather-light touches of piano, and subtle harmonies. “Louisiana Song” positions a lyrical chain of childhood recollections up against the literal rising waters that will one day submerge a cherished place: “I think about being southern / and the sand on the gulf coast / When I think about returning / I am wading in a graveyard”.
Throughout The World Is Dark, Kerber navigates an emotional tightrope, fully aware of the ills of the world while trying to find connections and peaceful corners. Even with all their nuances and challenges, she suggests, our relationships are essential to staying grounded, even when we lose them. “Much of my writing is about facing the struggles head-on, balancing what you need to do to survive while remaining true to yourself,” she says. There are echoes of influences like Joni Mitchell, Gillian Welch, and Lomelda, though Kerber injects her own unique wit, wonder, and humility into every passage, allowing the listener into her head for a spell while quietly taking up residence in theirs.
Forty years of cassette releases, pressed for the first time on vinyl
First of two instalments exploring the previously unreleased sonic archives of one of Poland’s most enigmatic
living artists - with its first volume focused on his deep listening practice and spiritual reverie (recorded 1990–2013)
The last time Andrzej Dudek-Dürer took a banknote bearing the face of the Polish anarchist Jarosław Dąbrowski from his pocket to trade it for a pair of shoes was in 1969. He bought them for 120zł - the equivalent of 100€ today - and never replaced them since then. Only rebuilt them, year after year, drawing a needle and thread through the leather each time it split, closing one wound before the next one opened. It became a ritual of precision, stitching a record of another year into their soles.
That same year, in Wrocław, he arrived at a conclusion that would recalibrate everything that followed. Convinced he was the reincarnation of Albrecht Dürer, he adopted the surname Dudek-Dürer, stopped cutting his hair and began wearing the same garments every day. It was the first ritual of many, though he wouldn't have called it that yet. Look closely enough, over the decades, and it is always the same gesture, returning in different material: hair growing in a single unbroken strand, a needle drawing thread through leather, sitar strings pulled taut across a neck he built with his own hands and magnetic tape spooling forward inside the cassette boxes stacked against his walls.
None of this began in a vacuum. Dudek-Dürer emerged from the Wrocław neo-avant-garde, in a Polish art world where an exhibition could be cancelled overnight by the stroke of a censor's pen. In 1973, his exhibition Auto-crucifixion was shut down by the state, and for a time he found himself blocked from exhibiting his own art at all - the one force in his life that ever came close to cutting the thread.
He seemed to experience it differently. In 1974, after long, patient research into sitar craftsmanship, he built his first prototype with his brother, a knowledgeable luthier. In 1978, in a smoked-out jazz club, he took his first steps into sound recording with the unreleased album Jazz From Underground with his first band. By 1979, recognition started to travel further than he could.
Turning toward Far-Eastern philosophy, meditation and the idea of reincarnation was another language of freedom for him. It was a way of claiming an inner territory the state could not reach, a border it could not close. Mail Art served a parallel function, reaching further out: in a country that restricted travel and expression, sending and receiving art through the postal system became an act of quiet rebellion.
The body, in his understanding, is only an envelope readied for constant transformation. From this came Metaphysical Telepathy: during the years he could not leave Poland, he treated that confinement as a rehearsal room, sending his mind out ahead on the same thread his body would later follow. Living Sculpture grew from the same root with performances of stillness beside static art objects, until the boundary between the object and the man beside it simply dissolved. Camera Meditation extended the same instinct into photography: a shutter click flattening three dimensions into two so that a single instant could be held forever. Inspired by the pioneers of self-portrait photography like Robert Cornelius, he used it to document time itself, and kept explaining to me: "You know. This is not about vanity. This is about observing time passing.”
The isolation did not end suddenly. It ended the way his own philosophy had already predicted it would, from the inside first. Mail Art quietly solved the problem politics couldn't. Correspondence built during years of confinement slowly worked its way through doors the state itself had kept locked. Contacts made through folded paper and stamps became invitations. Ultimately, invitations became passports.
In 1983 he made his first trip outside Poland, to Germany, in search of the audio technology he couldn’t get his hands on before. In 1985, he was invited by the Indian embassy in Poland to give a sitar concert on an instrument he had spent a decade patiently stringing together - half sitar, half tanpura, built from patience and determination. After the collapse of the People's Republic of Poland, the travels kept unspooling: South Korea, then Mexico, then Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Singapore, Japan and the United States - each stop leaving behind its own small knot of tape, tied off and carried home.
In the decades since, recognition arrived at the same unhurried pace: he conducted workshops at UC Berkeley, served as vice-president for artistic affairs of the Union of Polish Art Photographers and the Union of Polish Visual Artists between 2010 and 2014 and received the Bronze Medal for Merit to Culture - Gloria Artis. His visual work gradually entered collections including the National Museums of Warsaw, the Stedelijk Museum, Tate Modern, MoMA and the Venice Biennale. His musical practice, by contrast, never found that kind of room - left to circulate quietly, sharing his cassette tapes directly, waiting for someone willing to follow it further.
It took months before I could find a way to reach Andrzej Dudek-Dürer - his presence online is very close to nonexistent. Surprisingly, LinkedIn turned out to be the only door still open, a faintly absurd irony given everything else about him. I packed the strict minimum for a three-day trip and an empty notebook and made my way to Wrocław. His headquarters sits in the neighbourhood of Grabyszyn: a two-storey pre-war house that has belonged to his family for generations. The man who opened the door was long-haired, long-bearded, in his trademark leather shoes and patched jeans. We sat in his living room, in front of a computer where decades of recordings sat organised in cryptically named files, surrounded by books and objects that had arrived one layer at a time, leaving room for only two chairs in the middle. His shoes sat by the door, rebuilt so many times they had become their own quiet sculpture. Cassette tapes filled boxes against the walls, almost unlabelled, each one a spool of thread holding decades of sound that had never once been asked for, until now.
I listened for hours: meditating in front of strangers on the porch of a Seoul temple until the tourists stopped taking photos and simply waited with him; a stand-off with border guards at the US–Mexico crossing over an instrument they couldn't identify and didn't trust; a session with the Stockhausen family that he still, decades later, describes like it happened last week. All of it interrupted, occasionally, by the smell of soup boiling and fresh bread warming on the ceramic stove. After two days, it felt like being handed the end of a very long thread and asked, gently, to keep following it. I left with a USB drive holding his full discography, signed with his unmistakable signature.
Astral Meditations From A Living Statue is a length of that thread, drawn out from the boxes stacked against his walls - recordings gathered from different rooms, different countries, different decades. This first record breathes slowly: incense-thick, meditative, built for stillness. A cutting-edge séance in outer space where machines learn how to dream.
It begins with the neo-classical improvisations of Andrzej, space-delayed, recorded at Klub Muzyki i Literatury in Wrocław in 2002. 'When..So' opens the curtains with a deep-rooted meditation accompanied by slow-decaying piano figures illuminated by a candle-lit spirit gathering.
Los Angeles, 1990: a dormant villa, a grand piano, the voice of Bonnie Barnett. 'Exception' is captured in a single room, in a single afternoon - voice and keys circling each other, neither one leading, until the silence between the notes starts to feel like the instrument.
'The Meta...' and 'Tired Of...', recorded at Studio Morandi in Ponte Nossa, Italy, in 1992, settle into a sitar drone built entirely from patience - overtones stacking and beating against each other, strung by a man who never once set foot in India. 'Mastery Of...' follows, recorded the same year at Studio Suski in Łomianki, pushing that same hum further still, until pitch dissolves into a spectral reverie. 'Transcendental Sound', from 2000, closes the first record in a slow bath of celestial frequency - better heard beside the shores of the Odra river.
More than fifty years after deciding that a life could become an artwork, Andrzej Dudek-Dürer continues to inhabit that decision. His shoes keep wearing thin against the earth's crust. His hair keeps growing, one strand at a time. His cassette tapes keep spooling in the dark of their boxes.
Now the thread finds its last shape: a single unbroken groove, spiralling inward from the outer edge to the label at the centre. Never cut - the way nothing else in his life ever was. Drop the needle and it will find that groove and follow it, the same way a needle once followed leather, once followed a border it couldn't cross, once followed string into an instrument that didn't exist until he built it. This record is the other end of a thread that has been travelling for fifty years. For the length of both sides, it rests here, in your hands. This is a timeless proof that the Lord of the New Age was never lost."
DJ Support: Vladimir Ivkovic, Calm, LefTo, Dawn Again, Dream Chimney, Alexis Le-Tan, Afterlife, Sofa Elsewhere, Kreggo, Froid Dub, Johan Blende, Sean Johnston, Fabio De Luca, Dr. Rob, Leo Mas, Mark Broadbent, Patch, Stefano Tucci, DJ Nova
Three years after dropping Rapido Super studio on Hell Yeah, Caramel 3000 has slowed things down even further for his new eight-track LP, Super Tempra. This playful work gets stranger but even more inviting than ever with his signature OB-6 synth and the Eurorack modular, oodles of springy reverb, delayed balafon and scattered spoken-words. Caramel 3000 splits his time between the muddy waters of the Barene, south of the Venice Lagoon, and the dim light of a studio in Anderlecht. When not cruising in his sun-bleached wooden boat, he cherishes in the little light that reaches him at his shelter in Anderlecht. Renata and Piero, the couple on the artwork, once passed through that studio. This irregular sonic fusion of this EP came out of that visit. It's a fantastical collage that dissolves the boundaries between devotion and daydream with syrupy choir voices and fragments of Nancy Fraser lectures drifting in and out like the plot of a half- remembered hallucination. Quotes from legendary Italian singer Ornella Vanoni, children’s percussion and mystic melodies are looped and modulated into slow-burning psych - outs.
After the ancient sci-fi dub of the opener, 'Corsa Nudi' pairs the occult with the primitive, 'Arena Deriva' melts to watery droplets and glacial waves, and 'Acqua Tofana' is polyrhythmic tribalism from another dimension. 'Lente Virtus' marries melodic innocence to trippy humid density and 'Soft-shell Crab' is a woozy kaleidoscope with the happy accidents left in. 'Cacciatore di Frodo' is a haunting apparition from the deep and 'Vittoria Foresta' suspends you between the earthly and the otherworldly. Super Tempra is half the speed but twice the depth and full of wonder.
