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Mildred have announced their debut album Fenceline (out 24 April via Memorials of Distinction / Dog Day Records), they have also shared the Nick Roberts directed video for lead single ‘Fish Sticks’. Speaking of ‘Fish Sticks’ and the album, Mildred say: “Fish Sticks is a song of scenes from two worlds. Conversations with your boss. Acute workplace mediocrity. Riding home and eating fish sticks with your friends. For UK audiences, a fish stick is a fish finger, ideally Alaskan-caught cod. The song comes packaged in Fenceline, an album about conversations with old friends, little cousins, ceaseless piles of dust in your crumbling duplex, loves and theologians and their books. Fencelines mark two places but belong to neither. Neither nor, either or.”
Ahead of Fenceline, at the end of last year Mildred released their debut twin EPs mild and red, an insatiable collection of songs birthed before Mildred even knew they were a band. Arriving purposefully on the scene in that gentle, approachable Mildred way, the EPs picked up support from The Guardian, The Line of Best Fit, Uncut (‘We’re New Here’), The New Cue, Clash, DIY and more. Mildred is a band from Oakland, CA of four equal parts. They don’t have a lead singer, no one person writes the songs. The songs that make up Fenceline come together as a group with their genesis sprouting from any one of their members - Henry Easton Koehler (vocals, guitar), Jack Schrott (vocals, guitar), Matt Palmquist (vocals, bass, woodwinds) or Will Fortna (drums, production) - each time.

The songs are often wrestled from the lead writer by the other three, a lyric might have been mumbled absentmindedly for a few days before one of the other three grabs at it. Summed up neatly by Clash “imagine if Pavement went Americana and you’d be close”, Mildred make music that is pure and poetic, gently addictive and never overwrought. The lyrics for their songs are written largely alone and often draw from their own individual lives and experiences but there’s a shared something there. “It makes sense when common threads emerge” they say, “because we do things together a lot as friends: cook, laze about on a weekend, listen to an album, go walkabout, read, go see movies etc.
Strikingly literal or intriguingly oblique, Mildred have a remarkable way with lyrics that lodge themselves in your head softly but with such determination that they begin to feel like shimmering memories from your own life. Fenceline is a collection of songs that you want to hold close and delve into, and yet play to everyone you know.

Passages in Time, the third album from Kasper Bjørke Quartet, traces the contours of a blend of spiritual jazz reverence and the calming grandeur of '80s ambient. Inspired by Christopher Nolan's observation that "time is the most fundamental part of our human experience," the compositions are approached as fragments of time and memory. Meditations on the elusive nature of time form the heart of the work, merging freeform jazz improvisations with cyclical synthesizer patterns that mirror its quiet undulations.
Dreamy synths intertwine with guitar, harp, trumpet, flugelhorn, saxophone, and flute, creating a spacious environment for contemplation. The music invites reflection on the choices that shape our lives and the lives of those closest to us, and on the quiet weight of our priorities within the brief span we call life on this planet. Each passage unfolds as a fleeting moment suspended in time. The subtitles hint at fragments from someone's diary, tender observations of love, parenthood, and connection. Together, the passages form a musical memoir of sorts, where memory and emotion are gently woven into the compositions.
Passages in Time does not impose structure or meaning, it reflects them, offering an open space as the instruments drift in and out of focus, tracing time's subtle rhythms and inviting the listener to infuse their own memories and meaning into these passages.
The album also marks a transformation for the Quartet project itself. Langstrakt (Claus Noreen), part of the original ensemble, continues to operate the synthesizers alongside Bjørke, while the wider constellation of contributing musicians has evolved. Strings and piano give way to flute and saxophone by Oilly Wallace, guitars by Danish ambient composer Anna Roemer, trumpet and flugelhorn by Malthe Kaptain, and cascading orchestral harp by Katie Buckley, principal harpist with the Icelandic Symphony Orchestra.
The cover painting is by American artist Marcus Leslie Singleton, courtesy of V1 Gallery, and reflects the meditative and timeless atmosphere of the music.
Passages in Time is released on Bjørke's own imprint, Sensitive Records, following the two previous Quartet albums released on Kompakt Records: The Fifty Eleven Project (2018), a debut that introduced Bjørke's ambient and neoclassical explorations, and Mother (2022), which expanded the ensemble's sound with emotive choir compositions and guest appearance by Sofie Birch (Unsound / Stroom). Together, these three albums trace a journey of artistic growth, from introspective experimentation to a fully realized, contemplative expression of time, memory, and human connection.

In Lande’s words: “It’s a daydreaming song about wanting a life of excitement and adventure rather than a dull and ordinary life - one where people underestimate you and belittle you. And where you’re forced to buy into capitalism and become a pathetic, losing player in a game that you hate. I’d rather escape and live in a queer space fantasy and be brave.”

Available on limited turquoise vinyl and digipack CD

It is with both pride and excitement that we announce the reissue of ‘House Without A View’, the out-of-print second album by singer-songwriter Lande Hekt – the first of a three-part reissue series on Circuitry, with ‘Going To Hell’ and ‘Gigantic Disappointment’ (first time physically) to follow in the coming months.

With a new album ‘Lucky Now’ released on Tapete in January, supported by an extensive spring UK tour (dates below), Lande’s contemporary twist on the classic C86 indie sound - with a queer feminist punk identity lyrically explicit throughout – is drawing in an ever-growing audience of devotees, such is the consistent quality of her songwriting, and the personality within.

The opening track of the album is ‘Half With You’ which “is about growing into yourself as a queer person, and enjoying who you are after not enjoying it for so long,” says Lande. ‘Cut My Hair’ is about how her relationship with her gender has changed over the last few years, becoming more comfortable in herself and understanding more about what makes her happy. “It’s also about how easy it is to not talk to people when you’re struggling, which is something I did for a long time,” admits Lande.

The title track of ‘House Without a View’ deals with childhood trauma and how events of our formative years “affect us so much into our adult lives and are intrinsic to our personalities and the way we cope (or don’t) with life and relationships,” says Lande. Although there’s darkness and sadness within the record, there’s also some shining beacons of positivity and a light-hearted side, albeit with a side of frustration. ‘Lola’ was written about Lande’s cat shortly after she came to live with her and her girlfriend. “She’s the first pet I’ve ever had and I wasn’t quite ready for how hard it would be to not be able to verbally communicate with her. I worried constantly that she was depressed because all she did was sleep, but my girlfriend assured me that that was regular cat behaviour.”


APRIL 2026 DATES: 4th Cardiff/5th Trowbridge/6th Penryn/7th Portsmouth/9th Ramsgate/10th Cambridge/11th Norwich/12th Nottingham/13th York/19th London/20th Brighton/21st Bristol/22nd Exeter/23rd Manchester/24th Sheffield/25th Oxford

2026 Repress !

Black Label #36 is introducing Mladen Solomun to the Compost Black Label Crew. Solomun who was born in the heart of Bosnia, grew up and still lives in Hamburg. Beside his residency at "Uebel & Gefaehrlich" he is the host of Club "DIY" in his chosen hometown Hamburg since five years now. With his first releases on labels such as Diynamic Music, Sonar Kollektiv, Liebe*Detail and Steve Bug's Dessous Label his tracks were played and charted by DJs like Gabriel Ananda, DJ T., Tobi Neumann, Martin Landsky, Laurent Garnier, Tiger Stripes just to name a few.

For his Black Label debut Solomun has built three very deep and organic tracks.

Tone Dropout Records kick off the new year in emphatic style with a brand-new 6-track vinyl EP that stays true to the label’s unmistakable dancefloor-driven sound.

Packed with heavyweight grooves, acid lines, breaks, and bleeps, this release delivers six high-impact tracks designed for late-night systems and packed floors. The EP also marks an exciting moment for the label, welcoming two new artists into the Tone Dropout family while celebrating the return of long-standing contributors.

Joining the roster for the first time are KWAKE and Harry Light, both making a powerful debut on the label. They sit alongside Tone Dropout regulars SkyWave Transmissions and XOTR, while label co-owners DAWL and SWEEN reunite once again, delivering an acid-fuelled opener and a special bonus breaks track on Side B.

As always, the EP is overflowing with breaks, bleeps, acid, and raw rave energy.

Side A – The Head Side

Side A opens strong with DAWL and SWEEN at the helm, laying down a driving four-to-the-floor acid groover that would warm up any dancefloor with ease. It’s a statement opener — and a sign of much more to come from the duo throughout the year.

Next up, SkyWave Transmissions brings his trademark experience and finesse, delivering a tightly produced acid-bleep track that showcases depth, quality, and character. Following seamlessly is long-time collaborator XOTR, who rounds out the side with a pure slice of northern bleep excellence — unmistakably Sheffield in style and sound.

Side B

Side B introduces the first of the new Tone Dropout members, KWAKE. A long-time friend of the label, this marks his first official appearance, and he doesn’t disappoint. His track is a full-force breaks banger, capturing authentic rave energy and guaranteed to ignite the floor.

Next comes Harry Light, making an immediate impact with a pounding house-and-breaks hybrid. Impeccably produced and relentless in energy, the track lives up to its name perfectly — “POWER HOUSE.” Both newcomers arrive firing on all cylinders, delivering two massive dancefloor weapons back-to-back.

Closing out the EP, DAWL and SWEEN return with Tones Breaks 5, a three-minute breaks workout and the latest installment in the label’s breaks series. This track also serves as a respectful nod to one of their musical heroes, Frankie Bones, rounding off the release on a high.

Six tracks. All killers. No fillers.
In challenging times, this EP delivers exceptional value — a complete package of club-ready music pressed to vinyl and built for real dancefloors.

Another quality release from Tone Dropout Records.

Rhythm Cult welcoming back UK house stalwart Huxley for a focused three-tracker that lives up to its name. The 7th Cycle finds the producer in confident, unhurried form, threading together the dusty warmth of deep house with the propulsive edge of tech house in a way that feels both timeless and floor-ready.

British techno veteran Justin Berkovi joins Somov with three timeless recordings that bridge pounding minimalism and emotive ambience. Cemented in the 90s history books Berkovi's sound lives on as always with timeless energy and emotive power. Adding to the release, Ignez contributes a remix of 'Step Up'.

British techno veteran Justin Berkovi joins Somov with three timeless recordings that bridge pounding minimalism and emotive ambience. Cemented in the 90s history books Berkovi's sound lives on as always with timeless energy and emotive power. Adding to the release, Ignez contributes a remix of 'Step Up'.




c B1 Ethereal (Ø Phase remix)



c B1 Ethereal (Ø Phase remix)

Daybreakers return with another one for the deep heads, welcoming Chicago legend Vick Lavender to the fold for Essential Traxx Vol. 1. A musician, producer and DJ with over three decades in the game, Vick’s music lives in that space where house, jazz, and soul connect.

Back in the 90s, Vick came up alongside Glenn Underground and Boo Williams as part of the influential Strictly Jaz Unit, helping shape a sound that still echoes through dancefloors today. In the years since, he’s built his own world through Sophisticado — music rooted in live musicianship, deep feeling, and that unmistakable Chicago soul. It’s real house music.

On the A side, 1.4.4.5 (Where It Started) lays down that signature Chicago pulse — rolling percussion, Rhodes chords, and basslines that unfold like a live jam. Deep, patient, the real Vick Lavender sound.

Flip it for Tiano Nuevo featuring Spike Rebel, a lush meeting of house, Latin, and jazz sensibilities. Guitars, percussion, and keys come together, the kind of tune that keeps a dark room or a sunrise session dancing.

Essential Traxx Vol. 1 captures what Daybreakers is all about. Deeper than deep house.
Buy or cry

British techno veteran Justin Berkovi joins Somov with three timeless recordings that bridge pounding minimalism and emotive ambience. Cemented in the 90s history books Berkovi's sound lives on as always with timeless energy and emotive power. Adding to the release, label head Ignez contributes a remix of 'Step Up'.

‘Made For The Dancefloor’ is Glitterbox’s first vinyl compilation since 2021’s ‘Where Love Lives’ release. Spread over three 12” with four tracks per record, ‘Made For The Dancefloor’ compiles some of the biggest and most loved releases on the Glitterbox label this year. Including the huge Tripolism remix of The Shapeshiters classic ‘Lola’s Theme’, Crackazat’s upbeat take on Ben Westbeech, big main room cuts from Harry Romero, Kiddy Smile, Dave Lee and lots more.

An’archives is proud to present Hanabi, a compilation of material from legendary Japanese folk singer, actor and writer, Kazuki Tomokawa. Hanabi draws from Tomokawa’s three most recent albums, Vengeance Bourbon (2014), Gleaming Crayon (2016) and Going To Buy Squid (2024), all released in Japan only on the Modest Launch imprint. Pulling together highlights from these three extraordinary albums, Hanabi collects ten songs of shattering intensity, with Tomokawa performing at an ecstatic peak, a mere six decades into his musical career.

Tomokawa’s life story is one of change, risk and dedication. He appeared on the Japanese folk music circuit in the early 1970s, performing at such significant events as the legendary 1971 Folk Music Jamboree. Over the second half of the decade, he released five stunning albums that cemented his reputation as an expansive, lyrical singer-songwriter and performer whose music jack-knifed between pensive melancholy and righteous fury. His recorded output slowed in the 1980s as he became immersed in theatre, acting and painting, but his connection with the sainted Japanese label P.S.F. led to a prodigious burst of albums across the 1990s and 2000s.

Some of those albums had Tomokawa playing alongside free jazz musicians, such as his long-standing collaborator Toshiaki Ishizuka (Brain Police, Vajra, Cinorama), and late double-bass improviser Motoharu Yoshizawa. Some of that spirit can be found amidst the songs on Hanabi, leavened by a more romantic sensibility on a song like “Night Play”, where Tomokawa’s impassioned vocals and guitar swim and bob amongst a drifting string arrangement. The ferocity of “To The Dead Man” is reinforced by a guest appearance, on saxophone, by upcoming free jazz player Harutaka Mochizuki; the two spar with each other while Hiromichi Sakamoto’s cello and electronics swarm under the surface.

For those who’ve missed the three albums that Tomokawa has released across the past fifteen years – understandably so, given the relative impossibility of finding them outside of Japan – Hanabi is a welcome re-introduction to one of Japan’s most significant, poetic and quixotic folk singers and songwriters. As Michel Henritzi notes in his typically perceptive liner notes, capturing the oneiric and unique spirit of Tomokawa’s song, he is nothing less than “a poet who cries out, opening the darkness and shadows with his song, throwing handfuls of ashes from lives that have fled into the wind, to us, his fellow human beings.”

180 G. BLACK VINYL WITH LINER NOTES IN CREOLE, FRENCH, ENGLISH

Originally released in 1979, "Spiritual Sound" lives up to its name, a soaring, triumphant album, six tracks of spirit magic from Guadeloupe.

Telluric, intense, terribly alive, the gwoka drums of Guadeloupe carry the identity of a painful and fervent island. Marked forever by the crime of slavery, Guadeloupe's créolité cherishes the ka drums and their natural environment: the low-pitched boula drum with male goatskin, the high-pitched soloist makè drum with female goatskin, the chacha, ti bwa, triangle, calabash and other percussion instruments that surround them, and the voices - the fiery, proud, timbred, urgent voices of the gwoka.



This album is also a legend for its voices: in his then dazzling youth, singer Lukuber Séjor was one of the first gwoka artists to largely feminize the chorus of répondè, who converse with his text delivered in a straight and powerful voice.

And everything here sets new standards. In 1979, Mizik Filamonik - Spiritual Sound proclaimed a spiritual patriotism of ferocious intensity. The album by Lukuber Séjor - whose spelling alone is a battle - sets out to give Guadeloupe the intangible weapons of self-respect and self-knowledge, through a singular practice of traditional music.

The genesis of gwoka music is less straightforward than one might imagine... The drums performed the servile task of accompanying the work of slaves in the fields and during the “corvées” imposed by the administration, before being freely practiced by the common people after the abolition of 1848. At the heart of the conviviality of the Guadeloupeans furthest from the cities - geographically and socially - the gwoka drums come out for carnival, funeral wakes and neighborhood celebrations, but also during strikes, fits of anger and armed vigils of the riots and revolts that have punctuated the island's history. For generations, governors of the colony and then the prefects of the overseas department of Guadeloupe have been viewing the gwoka as a potential for turbulence and a threat to public order.

But as the Beatlesmania, “chanson engagée” and rock revolutions unfolded in Europe, young people turned to the drums of mizik a vié nèg (“bad negro music”, in Creole), which Guadeloupeans had learned to despise by following the “assimilation” process advocated by the school system and most of the political class. At the end of the sixties, in a Guadeloupe mourning the deadly repression of the May 1967 social movement, they played traditional music, refusing to wrap it up in tourist prettiness and madras folk costumes. Instinctively, they played a rough and contemporary gwoka, led by the incendiary Guy Konkèt. This was the era of decisive 45 rpm records such as Robert Loyson's Kann a la richès, which brought to light the fieriest words of union rallies.

At his home in Sainte-Anne, Lukuber Séjor played with flautist Olivier Vamur and his brother Claude Vamur, who cobbled together a drum kit from tin crockery and became, a few years later, the most influential drummer in Kassav'.

These were the years of the Bumidom program, when young Guadeloupeans were encouraged to emigrate to mainland France. At the age of twenty, Lukuber Séjor embarked on the liner Irpinia, disembarking at Le Havre and taking the train to the Gare Saint-Lazare - the route taken by thousands of young West Indians who went on to study or looked for work, all the while trying to maintain a link with their homeland. In this case, it's at the Antony university residence, where Lukuber played the drum and participated in a thousand gwoka updates and aggiornamentos, while exile reinforced the need for a spiritual link with the native land.

In 1978, Guy Konkèt played at the Salle Wagram, a historic event for West Indian music. After serving as répondè - i.e. backing vocalist - on one of his home-recorded albums, Lukuber joined his live band. Little by little, he became one of the key artists on a circuit parallel to French show business. At a student party in Caen, he met a young woman from Martinique who, at the time, was more motivated by her ambitions as a visual artist than by her vocation as a musician. Her name was Jocelyne Béroard and, a few years before she plunged into the Kassav' adventure and became the greatest West Indian singer of her generation, she designed the cover of Lukuber Séjor's LP.

This ambition was obvious and imposed its will. A more or less regular band was formed, with Roger Raspail, Rudy Mompière and Éric Danquin on ka drums, Claude Vamur on ti bwa, Olivier Vamur and Françoise Lancréot on flutes and Annick Noël on keyboards. Lukuber Séjor is set on wanting to extend the gwoka palette to other instruments, as the jazz-rock revolution opens a thousand new doors. Annick Noël will play a wide range of timbres and textures on electric piano and synthesizer. Another novelty: the répondè are two men and two women, Roger Raspail, Olivier Vamur, Françoise Lancréot and Maryann Mathéus ...

Mizik Filamonik - Spiritual Sound is a self-production in which the singer and leader sank all his savings, allowing him no more than a single day in the studio. The first side is more of a musical manifesto, with the first two tracks, Éritage and Penn é plézi, being instrumentals. The third, Son, forcefully celebrates the need for Guadeloupeans to connect with the gwoka. In fact, Jocelyne Béroard's cover shows a tambouyé in the shadow of a cloudy sky, against which a radiant sun is rising and whose light will soon flood the entire landscape. The silhouette and face of this man strongly evoke the immense Vélo, master of the ka, rejected at the time on the fringes of society.

The second side of the LP is surprising. Formally, three tracks are explicitly linked like the three parts of a triptych. Primyé voyaj evokes the appalling tribulation of Africans deported as slaves to Guadeloupe; dézyèm voyaj speaks of the Bumidom program and the economic, political and social forces driving young Guadeloupeans towards the mirage of prosperity in France; twazyèm voyaj closes the cycle with the emigrants' return from Europe after years away from their island...

This gwoka, obsessed with the need to save Guadeloupe spiritually, appeals far beyond the politicized audience. Mizik Filamonik - Spiritual Sound instantly became a classic, although Lukuber Séjor never really made a career for himself as a musician.

After all, the album was released in 1980, with no promotional resources in France or Guadeloupe - and therefore no concerts. The thirty-two-year-old author, composer and performer made his own third trip back to Guadeloupe. He set up a small woodworking business, which he lost in Hurricane Hugo in 1989. His other activity, teaching in a medical-educational institute, became the core of his professional life. He continued to be an active campaigner - a campaigner for the Creole language, a campaigner for the reawakening of identity, a campaigner for special education, a campaigner for a thousand causes that he ignited with his generous and perceptive enthusiasm, such as the defense of breadfruit fries...

The echoes of his 1979 album have not died down. Of course, the use of Penn é plézi as the theme tune for Radio Guadeloupe's funeral notices from 1980 to 1992 kept him in the collective memory, but he continues to sing and compose sporadically, as with his all-female

vocal group Vwapoulouéka... Still convinced that music is a means of liberating the spirit, he continues the journey of a young man eager to deploy the power of Creole music and language.

Bertrand Dicale

True Sneaker Social die-hard Etch returns with a monumental new album. Scream of the Butterfly shows the depth and breadth of one of the illest producers operating across the many spheres of club music with a distinct “you ‘kay?” slant.

From the moment the low-end pressure and loaded samples rear their heads on the opening track, Zak Brashill demonstrates his intent to sculpt Scream Of The Butterfly as a proper album — an end-to-end listening experience full of peaks and troughs which focus on sonic storytelling much more than club functionality. Throughout his imperious output to date, the man like Etch has displayed an affinity for sound design to match his instinct for what bangs on the spectrum of dubstep, garage, jungle and hip-hop, but now he’s gone postal on soundworld-building, with a grip of heavyweights drafted in to help set the scene.

Fellow Sneaker alumnus J-Shadow lends his maverick footwork science to ‘Star Fallen’, while UK rap anti-royalty Lee Scott brings his unmistakable Runcorn drawl to dusky head-nodder ‘Not Surprised’. UK bass-synth-ambient enigma E.M.M.A drops in for the moody, meandering midpoint ‘Stepford Lives’, and Killa P and Emz deliver blazing bars to the double dose of ‘Prayer Wheel (Left You Fi Dead)’ and ‘Heat Map’ respectively.

Elsewhere Brashill follows his own razor-sharp instincts into warping stop-start drum science, widescreen downtempo with teeth, seasick synth studies, moody-but-cosy 140 and lots more besides. Nothing comes as standard, but Scream of the Butterfly is ruff when it wants to be, subtle and spacious if the vibe demands it, and consistently packed full of the detail and intrigue that we’ve come to expect from one of the most inventive and reliably sick producers in the contemporary bassweight firmament.

Home of The Good Groove Records would like to introduce Psalmist Shonda L. English, otherwise known as “The Gospel Diva”.
Every once in a while, an exceptional and incredible talent impacts the music industry and leaves an indelible impression. Shonda is one of those rapidly expanding outstanding musical virtuosos who has done just that in the gospel arena. Home of The Good Groove Records are more than jubilant to be able to announce that the label’s first release will also be Shonda’s first 7-inch vinyl single release.
Her incredible vocal capability transcends and mesmerizes gospel and soul music lovers alike!
Originally a native of Boston, Massachusetts, at a young age Shonda relocated to South Carolina where she grew up and currently lives today. Shonda began singing on the children’s choir at the tender age of three and began playing the piano by ear at the age of five. Not only is Shonda gifted with phenomenal vocal capabilities, Shonda is also a multi-faceted gospel recording artist, song writer, organist, percussionist, choral conductor, composer, radio personality and novelist. She also plays the congas, tambourine, xylophone and the flute. In addition, she is an extraordinary “actress” who has appeared for her 4th time on stage and her 3rd time in a leading role. Her extraordinary gifts and talents continue to revolutionize the gospel music industry.
Taken from Shonda’s digital album release, Travelin’ (from 2023), the 7-inch vinyl release A-side, 'There Wouldn’t Be a Me', is a delightful mid-pacer with a riveting vocal and an instantly catchy melody that grabs your attention and is guaranteed to get any dancefloor flowing. Flip the 7-inch over, and get ready to feel the shivers up your spine as Shonda’s beautiful vocal (and harmonies) create a wonderful soulful gospel groove in ‘Feels Good’ that will elevate the emotions. ….You will not be disappointed.
Shonda’s Motto: “If you never take a leap of faith, you’ll never know how high you can fly.”

A sense of destiny hangs over Sentir Que No Sabes, Mabe Fratti’s fourth solo-credited album released in a five year span. Her work has always possessed a finely tuned sense of drama capable of expressing a range of emotional states, and across this new album, she conveys the struggle to process various relationships or situations–and the actions that come next. Sentir Que No Sabes is urgent and clear, poppy, generous and approachable, while showcasing a considerable emotional hinterland. It is also, as Fratti is quick to mention, “groovy.”

Written and recorded with her partner, multi-instrumentalist, and co-composer Héctor Tosta (I.La Católica, Titanic), Sentir Que No Sabes is the result of an intense, detail-oriented process. Fueled by a new confidence gained in their collaborative project, Titanic, and its critically acclaimed 2023 LP, Vidrio, the two hunkered down in the familiarity of their studio (aka Tinho Studios) to bash out the initial sonic coordinates of her new record. “We talked and talked, and discussed ways of playing and recording, until things became inevitable,” Fratti explains. “We recorded a bunch of demos at our home studio and that meant we had a lot of time to re-edit and experiment. We really dug in. We were super focused on detail.” Tosta also took up the controls as producer and arranger-in-chief for all additional instruments. The album was later completed at Willem Twee Studios in Den Bosch in the Netherlands, and Pedro y el Lobo Studios and Soy Sauce Studios, in Mexico City.

For the final studio recordings, the pair were joined by drummer Gibran Andrade and trumpetist Jacob Wick to fill out and expand on Tosta’s percussion and brass arrangements. This small group of friends were able to work quickly and openly, and without fear: a testament to the exhaustive groundwork put in at Tinho Studios. This can be heard in three short, intermediary tracks that also manage to be the most aggressive on the record: “Kitana” (a scratch-laden instrumental that acts as a strange prelude for the last track, “Angel nuevo”) and a pair of two-minute instrumental interludes, “Elastica” I and II. None are throwaway mood pieces; rather they act as emotional cue cards, and hint at the way Fratti and Tosta created the overall atmosphere of Sentir Que No Sabes.

A strong sense of rhythm irrigates the sound from the jump, as heard on the glorious opening track, “Kravitz.” Here, the brilliant plucked cello line acts as a bassline and props up the steady thump of the kick drum. The cello’s growl serves as a conduit for a set of slightly paranoid lyrics that tell us “Quizás haya oídos en el techo” (“maybe there are ears in the ceiling”), while the song also introduces another staple of the record: the clever brass stabs, whistles, parps, and other interjections that paint a canvas of traffic in a city. It’s a postmodern, widescreen sound that for some might recall The Blue Nile’s Hats.

Sentir Que No Sabes is a record full to the brim with a modern pop sensibility, invoked by the sort of magpie spirit that ensnares anything it can find, repositioning sounds for the here and now. The keys and melody on the melancholy “Pantalla azul” (“Blue screen error”) transport us back to the glossy mid-1980s. “Oídos” (“Ears”) is a beautiful slice of contemporary, hybrid pop, in which Fratti’s vocal lines delicately spin themselves around the lean structures erected by the brass and drums, and the descending “plink” of a set of piano chords. Then we have a gloriously strong ending with the swell of “Angel nuevo” (“New angel”), another cinematic track full of gentle, instrument-rich swells and eddies that manages to be almost endless in its range–and yet intensely personal, as Fratti’s voice is close, almost whispering in your ear. A much needed lullaby for our fractious times.

The lyrics, for their part, have a stop-start quality to them, and hint at the small, incremental emotional taxes we pay through just living our lives. They circle around the music like birds waiting to swoop. There is something of the spiritual in all of Fratti’s work that expresses itself in a form of yearning: she looks to new horizons while personal dramas find themselves internalized, contextualized, and then dealt with through metaphor. Here, she was keen to mention Tosta’s constant encouragement in her finding a path to best sing or phrase her words to impart their maximum effect. “Hector was super inquisitive about my lyrics and asked me questions about what I meant, which sometimes is something you don't wonder so much about in isolation,” Fratti explains. “Besides, he is a great poet, and you can see that in what he did on the Titanic record. This made me go deeper into my lyric writing and definitely transformed it into something that I feel super happy about now.”

Take “Enfrente” (“In Front”), a track that initially comes across as a languid, glossy number, with plucked cello strings standing in for a bass line and brittle synth parts. Soon we catch on to a brilliant minor chord switch, which mirrors the fear and doubt expressed in the lyrics as someone “trembles up to the podium” in a “search for meaning.” There’s also the startling introduction of a vocoder in “Quieras o no” (“Whether you want it or not”); it comes precisely at the point Fratti sings “Quieras o no es un desastre” (“Whether you want it or not, it's a disaster”). Moments like these leave room for interpretation and, over time, create a strong bond between the listener and the record.

In fact, across Sentir Que No Sabes, each phrase–whether instrumental or vocal–becomes at some level emblematic of acts and moods that impart deep emotional significance. We see this best on “Intento fallido” (“Failed attempt”), which could be the score to feeling trapped in self-doubt, only to suddenly be sprung free by the song’s gloriously upbeat ending. On “Márgen del índice” (“Index margin”), the quicksilver switch between initial disharmony and a beautiful melody is breathtaking, all augmented by evocative arrangements, textured production, and the slightly playful, gnomic lyrics. The track’s emotional ecosystem allows another brilliant ending, which uses the simple repeated phrase, “Cómo lo va a ver?” (“How are you going to see it?”).

So what to make of Sentir Que No Sabes? High gloss Pastoralism? The sound of a city-bound, post-post modern soulscape? No matter the emotions evoked, it's the work of an artist coming into their own, and creating a benchmark record.

Adam Beyer and Green Velvet’s behemoth co-production ’Simulator’ gets a trio of fresh remixes.

Something special happens with Beyer collaborates with Curtis Jones aka Green Velvet, with last year’s ‘Simulator’ a timely reminder of their musical synergy, following the 2019 classic ‘Space Date’ with Layton Giordani.
A year on from its release, Drumcode treats us to three contrasting interpretations that epitomise the sonic breadth of the label in 2024.

Mha Iri is first up having established herself as one of Drumcode’s most vital go-to producers in recent times. The Scottish artist turns in a blazing masterclass, taking the nasty bass stabs of the original and utilising them as thunderous motifs throughout her remix, as she brings intensity in spades with plenty of thrilling builds and drops along the way.

Emerging Australian artist Odd Mobb is next, whose music has been championed by the likes of Fred Everything and Skrillex. He brings the energy throughout the four-minute rework, amplifying all the low-end elements, while adding fresh bursts of colour. It’s a dynamic reinterpretation that will keep listeners on their feet.

Chris Avantgarde, whose contributions to Drumcode have so far comprised an outstanding collab with Kevin de Vries ‘Mind Control’ and an A-Sides contribution ‘The Last Time’, returns with the goods and lives up to his boundary-pushing pseudonym. This has more sides than a rubix cube and shows the German’s sound design class, encompassing elements of breaks, bass, electronica and techno, yet still manages not to sound like anything else out there.

Pressed on Limited Edition Neon Green Ripple Effect vinyl in the DC House bag.

MRAK unveils a six-track collection of new material. “This is a snapshot of my reality. It is a composition, a challenge, that I took not knowing the outcome and its price - the amount of logical mazes I had to overcome and I still am. The biggest honour and most humble experience is the possibility to feel any sparkle of emotion, providing fragments of the music and the reality that I’ve developed as an artist over the years. My imprint soul and commitment to melody are adamant, as is the pledge to deliver and be loyal to this abstract entity called music; that gently accompanies our lives.” MRAK As one of the founders of Afterlife, MRAK is now reshaping the afterlife paradigma. Introducing a sharp and elegant but distinctive musical equation. On The Pledge, he presents six compositions, all bound to the Afterlife ethos. ‘The World‘ featuring vocalist braev. Sombre piano keys and urgent strings accompany energetic synth layers. ‘The Process works from a hypnotic low end, supporting a solid melody that increases in intensity as the track develops. For ‘Their Law ’MRAK teams up with David Lindmer, crafting an undulating track with captivating melodies and harmonies. With ‘Portal ’the realm of consciousness beckons us in, with a female vocal reverberating intermittently, complementing the dark bassline and bright synth lines. Penultimate track ‘The Flame features braev and Canadian vocalist Wasiu for a three-way collaboration steeped in emotion. It utilises a heartfelt vocal alongside a spoken-word segment, striking the balance between emotion and high energy. Lastly, MRAK collaborates with Omnya on the remix of ‘Never Ends’. The main melody provides an uplifting vibration, juxtaposed with the darker elements of this journey to the close of the EP…

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.