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8 years after their last LP Kites, Submotion Orchestra return with their long awaited sixth studio album, the remarkable Passed Me By. A deeply personal journey into memory, creativity, and the passing of time, it shows the band continuing to push their signature electronic sound forward, and the result is some of the boldest and most emotional territory of their storied career. 

The album sees the band dive further into the synth-led, minimalist electronic textures and driving beats explored on the 'Five Points' EP, creating hypnotic analogue patterns alongside the post-dub spaciousness and celestial effects of their earliest work. With Ruby Wood's always-emotional vocals soaring over the top, the tracks effortlessly glide through genre and mood, resulting in the widest range of expression and emotion found in a Submotion album yet. 

POISON IDEA’s momentum hasn’t slowed down one bit; this is still their brand of loud, potent powerthrash. Slightly more metal than in the past but the accent here is on the force and fury. Scorching. Each song on War All the Time flows into the other in a natural sequence for maximum impact and the whole thing blows over before you know it, but everything stays in your head, banging against the walls of your frontal bone. All this makes a good album, but what turns War All the Time into an amazing album are the lyrics and their delivery. Jerry A took the negative side of the world around him and expressed it in detail, rendered with words that can be read in a universal manner, expressing everything trivial and worthy of our puke in a language better suited to talk about the beauty of life. And those words remain as true to this day as the band’s riffs are brutal.

With Diving Inward, the first release under the alias Dziad, Aleksander Filipiak melds the frigid indifference of synthesised textures with exploratory re-imaginations of his first instrument as an industrial buzz saw of unpredictable metallic fluctuations. The sonic landscape is a tribute to a multiplicity of (once) cutting edge, experimental techniques from the golden age of electroacoustic composition, combined with the composer’s enduring love for organic and unpredictable textures, transportive folk motifs and hypnotic pads.

Recorded in the winter 2022, this amalgam of the tangible and imaginary, shudders and re-lives a sombre season of isolation and loneliness. The pieces stand as an ode to the optimistic acts of play and creativity; an antidote to a reality which, at times, feels tolerable at its best. With this release, Filipiak encapsulates emotions that are overdue to be left behind. Shelve them for another day.

The second season of the funny and heartfelt fiction series by Flo Van Deuren and Kato De Boeck takes us along as Bibi and Ama move on to the next chapter of their lives and into their new, unexpected home: an old daycare building. With school no longer providing structure and their wallets running on empty, they dive headfirst into adulthood.

This results in eight new episodes that, like the main characters, have grown up, yet remain just as hilarious and moving as ever.

With the second season of Roomies, the show’s award-winning music makes its return. This time with a powerful soundtrack featuring Eefje de Visser, Ategha (Ahlaam Teghadouini) & Mickael Karkousse (Goose), Maria Iskariot, and Porcelain ID.

“(Tijdbom) Tikkend” is a dark, electronic track that feels like a constant run: sometimes away from the other, sometimes right toward them. It captures the feeling of running out of time, losing each other, and wanting to reconnect. That push-and-pull dynamic felt like a perfect fit for Roomies, where relationships, drama, and fun are always intertwined. - Eefje de Visser

“Whatever Happens” came together in a very organic way, and you can hear that in the track. Raw, genuine, and effortless. What’s unique is that we hadn’t even met until a few days before. Ahlaam walked into the studio and said, “I’ve prepared something.” That opening line alone was fantastic and immediately showed confidence and courage. “Perfect,” I thought. Then we turned the volume up to maximum, and I listened as Ahlaam sang right by my ear. Instant goosebumps! - Mickael Karkousse

There comes a point in every bands life when originality stops being a virtue and honesty takes the wheel. On their 11th long-playing record: Forgeries (72-84)-(16)- return to the impulse that first dragged them into loud rooms and bad ideas: the urge to steal what we love and make it semi-unrecognizable through devotion. We have partnered with Heavy Psych Sounds Records to release a collection of covers that function less as homage and more as a possession to be given away. The artworkrendered by the ever-amazing Maraldcompletes the ritualiconicunsettlingand unafraid. Weve always believed that a great cover is not mimicry but revelation. Its finding a song that's already lived inside you since youth and letting it crawl outbruised and changed. From the early 90s onward-(16)- have treated covers as translations rather than as replicasacts of tribute and emulationfiltered through distortionfatigueand lived experience. These are songs that taught us how to standhow to falland how to keep going. In our collective headthis album exists because these songs demanded it. Because they screamed copy meand we listened. In the endForgeries (72-84) stands as both a thank you note and a thefta reminder that all music worth a damn is borrowedbrokenand passed on between friends. The selections on Forgeries 72-84 span eras and attitudesunified not by genre but by necessity. Each track is a document of obsessionof influence absorbed and re-expressed without permission.

There comes a point in every bands life when originality stops being a virtue and honesty takes the wheel. On their 11th long-playing record: Forgeries (72-84)-(16)- return to the impulse that first dragged them into loud rooms and bad ideas: the urge to steal what we love and make it semi-unrecognizable through devotion. We have partnered with Heavy Psych Sounds Records to release a collection of covers that function less as homage and more as a possession to be given away. The artworkrendered by the ever-amazing Maraldcompletes the ritualiconicunsettlingand unafraid. Weve always believed that a great cover is not mimicry but revelation. Its finding a song that's already lived inside you since youth and letting it crawl outbruised and changed. From the early 90s onward-(16)- have treated covers as translations rather than as replicasacts of tribute and emulationfiltered through distortionfatigueand lived experience. These are songs that taught us how to standhow to falland how to keep going. In our collective headthis album exists because these songs demanded it. Because they screamed copy meand we listened. In the endForgeries (72-84) stands as both a thank you note and a thefta reminder that all music worth a damn is borrowedbrokenand passed on between friends. The selections on Forgeries 72-84 span eras and attitudesunified not by genre but by necessity. Each track is a document of obsessionof influence absorbed and re-expressed without permission.

On Layaway Plot, Pretty Baby weaves elements from turn of the century Dischord bands, the emotive Richmond punk scene, the cerebral experimental rock of Olympia, and angular post-punk revival. Piercing guitars, frenetic bass and chaotic drums pulse under layered unsettling synth pads and desperate, throaty vocals. At their apex, distorted walls of sound finally crash and from the dust emerge plaintive and melancholy instrumental sections.The resulting sound pays homage to the progenitors of post-hardcore while resisting the traps of nostalgia. Layaway Plot finds the band vulnerable, angry, sardonic, and at times defeated. But never without hope. Now fully realized, Pretty Baby is a band equally at home in art galleries, basements, and punk clubs alike.

Risk/Reward’s third installment comes from Brooklyn-based California native Chuwee, a rising star with records in the bags of the scenes most discerning selectors. Teaming up with homies Sasta, Seb Hall and Gaspar Muniz to form the Wizards on Waverly, they deliver a wildly creative and versatile collection of funk-drenched floor fillers.

On the a side: 4TJADEN combines crunchy electro house drums with a twisting, monstrous analog bass lead and 80s synth pop strings, before euphoric chords and a killer acid line send this one in to the cosmos!

Let’s Talk About Sex is a big, bad, booty bouncing slice of West Coast electro funk. An ultra groovy and addictive bass line, naughty vocals, spooky synth lines and rays of acid sunshine straight from California, make for an infectious party cut that gets the floor rocking every time.

On to the b-side: Slippy Jim’s is a laid back, dubwise, chugger, perfect for warming up, day time sessions or late in the afters. Crunchy analog drums patter over a warm, playful bass groove, speckled with dubby stabs, an imposing synth lead and vintage Jamaican spoken word vocals transport you to Kingston after party where the rum and vibes flow in equal measure.

Pioneer of the dub tech house sound Grant Dell delivers a gargantuan remix, with enough weight to break even the sturdiest of scales. Chunky yet detailed drums, a sub-heavy & driving bass line, acid squelchs and dubbed out stabs create an absolute weapon of a track, with a truly epic breakdown featuring a legendary vocal that gets right under your skin and stays there.

Heavy support from Enzo Siragusa, Harry McCanna, Bushwacka!, Dyed Soundorom, Anna Wall, CHKLTE and more.

Schatterau’s third album, »Wir gingen durch leere Stunden« (We went through empty hours), sees the German duo blossoms with beauty and sophistication through a broad creative language.

This opus, presented in the form of vivid auditory tableaux vivants, explores the topography of memory as a landscape in constant motion – full of loops, feedbacks, and mirage-like distortions. Sounds climbing like vines over old walls, concealing details only to reveal new ones. Some pieces feel like fragments of a dream whose origin has vanished, others like displaced echoes of a day long gone.

Memories create paths that only become visible in retrospect – detours that somehow always lead back to oneself. Each track draws the listener into a different recollection, as if opening an old door. Inside, time behaves strangely: it jumps, stretches, and repeats.

»Wir gingen durch leere Stunden« ultimately presents Schatterau at their most experimental, complex and measured extremes, channelling ambiguous human emotional resonance ranging from melancholy to pure ecstasy.

Venus er i håret is the third solo record from Norwegian multi-instrumentalist, composer and singer Espen Reinertsen and it arrives about ten years after his second solo record was released via Susanna Wallumrød’s SusannaSonata label. Simultaneously tender and powerful, Venus gives the impression of being, in itself, a complete system –– full of beautiful digressions and compositional trustfalls. Melancholic in the truest sense of the word, Reinertsen’s songs are ruminative, enveloping and uncanny. Venus er i håret seems to glow, gently. Espen Reinertsen is deeply embedded in the creative music scene in Norway, performing as a member of Christian Wallumrød Ensemble and Streifenjunko. As a saxophonist and collaborator, he a mainstay in Oslo’s experimental scene, performing with artists like Jennifer Walshe, Jenny Hval, Toshimaru Nakamura, Christian Wallumrød, and many more, in addition to offering his own exploratory pop compositions both solo and in collaboration.

Onna Last Live 1983 includes the final performance by the original line-up of Onna, the psych-rock project of revered Japanese manga artist, Keizo Miyanishi. Onna’s legend has largely rested, until now, on one self-released and self-titled seven-inch from 1983. Reissued by Holy Mountain in 2009, its rediscovery, along with several archival live and studio sets that leaked out across the 2000s, signalled to a wider audience the power of Miyanishi’s strikingly hypnotic songwriting. With Onna Last Live 1983, though, we hear the group’s perfect line-up performing at its peak.

While Miyanishi was the core member and conceptualist of Onna, the other members of the group would also go on to make significant contributions to the Japanese underground. Guitarist Michio Kurihara would eventually be known for his membership of YBO2, Ghost and White Heaven, and collaborations with the likes of Boris and Damon & Naomi. Drummer Ken Matsutani formed Marble Sheep & The Run-Down Sun’s Children and The Mickey Guitar Band, while also running the Captain Trip label. Joined by the late bass player Yasui Yutaka, to whom the album is dedicated, this quartet only performed live in 1983; the live set here was recorded at Silver Elephant.

It’s a different line-up to the Onna duo that’s documented on their single. After Miyanishi and fellow manga artist Mafuyu Hiroki recorded that material, Miyanishi decided he wanted to start playing gigs; Hiroki left, and Kurihara, Matsutani and Yutaka joined soon after. This line-up allowed Miyanishi to significantly expand Onna’s powers, leading to a sound that Kurihara once described to Ptolemaic Terrascope magazine as “repetitive and heavy, yet quite orthodox.”

The songs here are simple yet deeply effective in their repetitive power, generally revolving around two or three simply strummed chords for guitar. Bass and drums repeatedly lock into mantra-like grooves as Kurihara’s guitar scales the walls, with Miyanishi’s consumptive moans and sighs sent torquing through FX. The cumulative effect of the seven songs here is very heavy indeed; if the prologue “Always…” drifts beautifully through five minutes of placid, beseeching melancholy, the epilogue, “Never Seen A Light Like This”, spirals out into sixteen minutes of glazed-over psych-rock, completely monomaniacal and thrilling in its slow-motion tumult.

Throughout, you can hear Miyanishi and co. reaching for something ineffable, something beyond and between the notes. It’s a phenomenal performance; it’s also no surprise that the group disintegrated after this show, given its intensity. Matsutani and Yutaka left after the Silver Elephant show, with Miyanishi and Kurihara continuing through the first half of 1984 firstly as a duo, and then a trio with new drummer Yoshiki Ueonyama. Kurihara left soon after. But Onna Last Live 1983 is proof plenty of the powers of the original Onna quartet, sending their Rallizes/Velvets dream-mantras off into darkened, stormy skies.

Swiss powerhouse The 18th Parallel presents another slice of fine modern roots reggae! All Fruits Ripe is a heavyweight showcase album rooted in the foundations of reggae while firmly anchored in the present. Recorded between 2015 and 2025, the project brings together a powerful lineup of Jamaican vocalists — Micah Shemaiah, Keith Rowe (from rocksteady duet Keith & Tex), Rod Taylor, Var (Inna De Yard, Pentateuch), Hezron, and Itral Ites — each representing a different generation of conscious reggae music.

The album features six vocal cuts and five dub versions, highlighting both lyrical strength and sound system culture. Carefully mixed by master engineer Roberto Sánchez, All Fruits Ripe stands as a transnational reggae statement: Jamaican voices carried by a European band deeply connected to the roots with a profound respect for the culture that gave birth to reggae and dub. It features legendary guest Jamaican musicians Leroy ‘Horsemouth’ Wallace, Scully Simms, Dalton Browne, or Errol ‘Blacksteel’ Nicholson.

A mature and carefully crafted release where every track feels essential — like fruit finally ready to be harvested.

‘Michael: Songs From The Motion Picture’ is the official companion album to the brand new biopic ‘Michael’. This album highlights 13 songs showcased in the film, from The Jackson 5 to The Jacksons to Michael’s chart-topping solo success with “Off The Wall” and “Thriller.” This collection includes smash hits like “Billie Jean,” “Don’t Stop ’Til You Get Enough,” “Human Nature” and more.

Le Futur c’est la drogue, which should here be translated as The Future Is the Drug, is not to be read as a promise, but as a statement of fact. The present is no longer an experience, but pure consumption. Life itself has taken the form of a dependency.

With this sixth album, Christophe Clébard goes straight to the point, driven by a free and repetitive form of writing, stripped of any syntactic rigidity. Words strike like balls against a wall, revealing darker zones of his mind where guilt, fear, and existential anxiety coexist.

The sound composition, equally minimal, sustains a dense and obsessive mental space, a vortex in which trance appears as the only escape. Driving drum machines, relentlessly hammered electronic loops, and a battered synthesizer, his music unfolds within a physical, strangely hypnotic synth-punk aesthetic that hits viscerally.

The Future Is the Drug is his sixth album.

Angelo De Augustine kehrt mit ,Angel in Plainclothes" zurück, seinem fünften Album und bisher inspiriertesten Werk - eine tief empfundene Darstellung seiner mehrjährigen Reise der Heilung und Erneuerung. Das Album präsentiert De Augustines kraftvolle Melodien und ergreifende Texte in Titeln wie der eindringlichen Elegie ,Empty Shell", dem hoffnungsvollen ,Spirit of the Unknown" und dem herausragenden psychedelischen Country-Stück ,Mirror Mirror". Die Themen befassen sich mit der Zerbrechlichkeit des Lebens, zweiten Chancen und dem Wiederaufbauen seines Lebens, nachdem eine nicht diagnostizierte Krankheit ihn zwang, grundlegende Fähigkeiten neu zu erlernen: ,Ich versuche herauszufinden, wer ich jetzt bin", sagt De Augustine. ,Ich habe das Gefühl, dass mir eine zweite Chance im Leben gegeben wurde, und ich möchte sie leben." Das Album wurde vom Künstler in seinem Aufnahmestudio ,A Secret Place" in Südkalifornien geschrieben, aufgenommen, arrangiert, produziert und gemischt. Es ist das erste Mal seit Jahren, dass er wieder mit anderen Künstlern zusammengearbeitet hat, darunter der Streicharrangeur Oliver Hill (Kevin Morby, Helado Negro), den Harfenisten Leng Bian, die Backgroundsängerin/Percussionistin Wendy Fraser, den Produzenten Thomas Bartlett (der De Augustines ,Tomb" sowie St. Vincent und Bebel Gilberto produziert hat) und den Co-Produzenten Jonathan Wilson (Angel Oisen, Father John Misty) bei ,The Cure". Das Ergebnis ist ein kraftvolles Statement der Hoffnung: ,Eine der größten Hilfen, die mich am Leben gehalten haben, waren die Menschen in meinem Leben, die mir gesagt haben, dass letztendlich alles gut werden würde. Ich hoffe, dass diese Songs die gleiche Wirkung auf die Menschen da draußen haben und ihnen helfen zu erkennen, dass Wunder möglich sind."

Renowned for his astonishing fingerstyle technique, melodic sophistication, and fearless improvisa- tion, Mancuso has earned praise from legends including Joe Bonamassa, Tosin Abasi, and Al Di Meola, who described his playing as "light years ahead." Now, with his second solo album Route 96, Mancuso delivers a more confident, expansive statement-- showcasing a mature, forward- thinking artist redefining modern guitar virtuosity.

The year that NOW’s story began, and where we started our ‘Yearbook’ series back in 2021. An incredible year in Pop music, and a fabulous selection of the years’ hits have featured on that first ‘Yearbook’, and on the ‘80-84 Final’ as part of our appreciation of 1983. Those tracks were generally the bigger hits of the year, with their Chart achievement a factor in their inclusion. However, that’s not the whole story, and our celebration of 1983 wouldn’t be complete without shining a light on some of the year’s singles that have been compiled much less frequently over the past 40 years. Welcome to the THE VAULT for 1983…Some of the tracks were Top 40 hits, some missed the Chart completely, and some were huge in the U.S. and not in the U.K. – but all are part of the wonderful Pop story of 1983. Released as 80 tracks across 4-CDs, available as a standard 4CD and as a a special edition 4CD in ‘hardback book’ packaging featuring a 28-page track by track guide, original singles artwork and a quiz and 45 tracks across 3-LPs, pressed on stunning translucent red vinyl -

April Records proudly presents the new album from Danish trombonist and composer Lis Wessberg. Her most personal album to date, In The Wake of Blue is a song-driven work exploring transience, love, and transformation. Expanding her writing while remaining rooted in her distinctive instrumental voice, Wessberg creates an intimate musical landscape where lyric, melody, and texture carry equal weight. Wessberg has established herself as a leading voice on the European jazz scene through her band Yellow Map and a series of acclaimed releases on April Records. Her previous album, Twain Walking (2024), marked her first step into English-language songwriting and earned a Danish Music Award nomination in 2025 for the track Behind the Walls. In The Wake of Blue develops this direction further. The album draws on images from nature - sea, tides, clouds, mist, and birds - used as emotional anchors rather than abstractions. These elements frame songs that move from uncertainty and loss toward openness, connection, and renewal. The title reflects this arc: "blue" as melancholy, depth, and memory, and what emerges in its wake. Vocalist Veronika Rud is central to the album"s sound, bringing vulnerability and clarity to the songs. Rather than a traditional singer-led project, the music unfolds as a dialogue between voice and trombone, with Wessberg"s warm, airy tone mirroring and extending each song"s emotional core. At times the two move in close unison; elsewhere, they diverge and reconnect. The core ensemble - Steen Rasmussen (piano and keys), Lennart Ginman (bass), and Jeppe Gram (drums) - provides a responsive, understated foundation, while string quartet Live Strings appear on two tracks, expanding the ensemble"s depth and resonce. In The Wake of Blue offers a quietly assured statement from an artist continuing to refine a voice that speaks as clearly through brass as it does through words.

With American idealism and societal unity in flames, the ethereal ambiance of Denver's ABRAMS has been permeated by vibrating, hair-trigger fury. On new album Loon, wistful melodies warp into dissonance and aggression, and crystalline beauty is inhabited by bitterness and rage. 2024's soaring and driving Blue City was a record full of arresting, nostalgic textures that Metal Hammer Magazine called "an upswell of positivity in the face of frustration that's sure to shake you from your existential slumber." But this is no longer the world of that album. The grinding hopelessness and chaos of these times have infused ABRAMS with the shattering intensity of Converge. Urgent and abrasive, Loon is acerbic, fed up, and riddled with pulverizing fury. Wistful melodies warp into dissonance and aggression. Crystalline beauty is inhabited by bitterness and rage. The band's instinctive hooks aren't gone, and hopeful moments do shine intermittently through. But it's clear that ABRAMS, like a lot of us, are pissed off. Desperate and seething, Loon is an irresistible, frenzied purge from a band refusing to give in. For fans of Torche, Converge, Cave-In, Failure, Quicksand and Hum. Coloured LP (white vinyl) & digipaked CD

Baby Rollén and Wilba (Fraise), embark on their new collaborative project Heartbreak Hombres. Straight ahead dancefloor house cuts and no nonsense!

Already drawing support from a diverse spread of DJs including Raresh, Ben UFO, Dr Banana, Eris Drew, Chris Stussy, Wallace, Louise Chen (NTS) and more - the Heartbreak sound is designed for the DJ; a selectors handy weapon at the ready!

»Music for Shared Rooms« is B. Fleischmann’s eleventh solo album and his first since 2018. It is also not an album, or at least not in the conventional sense of the word. These 16 instrumental pieces provide a kaleidoscopic glimpse of a forward-thinking musician at home in many different musical worlds, including experimental and abstract music, pop and more classically-minded compositional forms. These pieces were culled from an archive of roughly 600 compositions for theatre pieces and films written throughout the past twelve years. The Österreichischer Filmpreis-awarded composer, however, aimed for more than simply documenting his extensive work in and with different media. To do so, he edited and re-mixed the individual recordings for this release, taking them out of their contexts and reworking them for an audience who can experience them in a different setting. »Music for Shared Rooms« makes it possible for its listeners to engage with the sounds and to fill the spaces they open up with their own imagination.

Roughly speaking, music for theatre or film can serve two functions: it either takes the lead, or underscores what is happening on stage or screen. The marvelous thing about these pieces is that they manage to do both. Fleischmann’s work as a prolific producer has always drawn on contrasts, at times combining pop sentiment with rigid experimentation, the seemingly naive with the intricate and complex. This approach also marks the tracks collected here: bringing together acoustic elements and electronic sounds, at times working with conventional structures but always de- and re-contextualising them, Fleischmann constructs a vivid dramaturgy out of discrete singular compositions, letting them interact across the record.

Take, for example, the opener »Träumerei« and the following »Brenne«: after the soothing acoustic sounds of the former, the latter quickly picks up speed with hard-hitting drum machine rhythms. It’s a stark contrast sonically and stylistically, however both tracks are tied together by a certain harmonic sensibility. This sort of dramaturgical interconnectedness of varied musical materials is the thread that runs through »Music for Shared Rooms«. A droney piece for string instruments like »Sehnsucht« is followed by a trip-hop beat, before »Schock« lives up to its title with skittering beats and piercing high frequencies. The differences between the pieces may be striking, but the progression from one to the other is subtle. It goes on like this through different moods and tempos. There’s soothing-yet-eerie piano pieces like the »Für Elise«-inspired »Der Lärmkrieg«, gentle house grooves, joyful synthesizer excursions and, finally, »Die Erde ist mir fremd geworden«, a collage of abstract textures and concrete sounds.

All these pieces create distinct situations through the juxtaposition of diverse musical elements, but are also bound together by a single vision. Writing music for theatre pieces or film requires a composer and his pieces to engage with people and their movements in space, which is exactly what Fleischmann offers on this record. He breaks down the fourth wall and invites his listeners into his world, a wide-ranging musical panorama. »Music for Shared Rooms« is indeed not an album in the conventional sense of the word, but more like a photo album in which each page opens up a new space to get lost in; recreates different scenes in which you can immerse yourself. These are shared rooms indeed.

There’s this feeling that House Music is sometimes diluted into a pleasant, non-offensive and conformist formula. Well, Jackie Gritness - you may have heard of her big bro Gary - is bringin’ all the sweat, the attitude and the filth down - take it or leave it.

Jackie introduces herself from both sides on this well-strapped debut 12” - the slick swingin’ & sangin’
on the bass-heavy A side, and the raw clave trax and cunty snarls of the acid-laced B side.

No trace of over-production or tired sampling here: this is just Jackie, her mic and her lil’ groovebox -
gettin’ raw in the studio just like she does onstage. Only thing added is some wall-shaking mastering by New York OG Dietrich Schoenemann.

This is the kinda House that’s supposed to make regular folks wanna turn it off. This ain’t rated E for Everyone, it’s rated F for Freaks.

It’s music from the underground, for the underground - as it was first revealed on the runway of Glastonbury’s infamous NYC Downlow last summer.

And if that’s more than you can take - it’s alright. It’s not like Jackie will hold it against you.

Jackie Gritness
“Gary’s little sister.” His studio session resume reads like a House music who’s who - from David Morales to Fred P. He’s also been rockin’ clubs with the Playin’ 4 The City and MLIU crews - but she’s also been seen on Gideon’s fierce Homo-Centric Records. See, this bitch’s true feelings about House are stripped-down, bare-bones, and unapologetically sexual. With a radical ‘live’ attitude, she’s serving the realness with an irresistibly acidic zing.

Rough n' wild funk jam loaded with insane psychedelic effects - all the way from sunny Bermuda! Reissueing now these two instrumental funk masterpieces taken from the mega rare LP by The Invaders. 'Spacing Out' is an instrumental funk masterpiece only ever issued in Bermuda at the turn of 1970, taken from an exceedingly rare album sought out by rock, funk, soul and hip hop sample fiends - and bootlegged - for decades. It lays out the band's funk bonafides: a relentlessly tight conga-filled groove, the punchy wall of intertwined horn leads, and raucous unintelligible background vocals adding extra mystique. Above all was the exaggerated deployment of reverb and echo (a decision most of the group's members credit to recording engineer Ian Marshall) which ricocheted off and reanimated every lick as an otherworldly transmission, infusing a vibe both earthy and interstellar. On the flip we find 'Latin Lips' a heavy funk cut with a jazzier vibe, also taken from the mega rare LP by The Invaders. 7" vinyl reissue of these essential funk masterpieces from Bermuda loaded with insane psychedelic effects!

Dave Wallace is one third of Aquasky, as well as a founding member of Mad Dog and Fugitive. He also released his own EP’s on Moving Shadow and R&S in the 90’s and more recently an EP on TeeBee’s Subtitles label as well as a return to the rave with various Fugitive tracks and remixes on Vinyl Fanatiks over the past few years.

But one track has always alluded a release, there was always something that prevented it from being released. Originally written in 1995, it wasn’t until 1996 that he sent it to LTJ Bukem who went nuts for it, advising Dave to speed it up from its original 156bpm so he could play it. Upon doing so, it was also sent to Fabio and the pair of them played it on Kiss, Radio 1 and various gigs and festivals across the world. Dave was just in discussions to release it when Dillinja made a Bladerunner track using the same samples. In light of that and how the hierarchy worked in the 90’s drum and bass scene, Dave decided to pull the release and the track went back into the DAT draw… for 26 years!

This track has been requested by many to be pressed since Vinyl Fanatiks started as it had such a huge fanbase, so many people loved the track after hearing it either back in the day or on copies of mixes uploaded in recent years to the internet. An extremely desired track! But there was never a B-side to it… until Dave stepped into his Fugitive guise and brought the track up to date with one of the baddest basslines we have released on the label.

Join us as we take you on a ride from the smooth to the ruff!


Its all an expression!

Tim Reaper cited My God as his favourite jungle tune so we had to see if he fancied remixing it for us. And we think this is possibly the best remix he has ever done - but we are biased somewhat!

Then on the flipside Da Big Dawgs came back to the kennel - the original Mad Dog hit the studio together for the first time in over 30 years. Dave Wallace and Shaun O'Hara absolutely loved doing this remix and working together again - so hopefully we will see more new music from them as either Mad Dog or Fugitive in 2026.

Pressed on 10" vinyl. Handstamped vinyl and sleeve and comes with a 3mm spine black housebag.

In 2005, Andrew Bird was a previously unimaginable combination of virtuoso violinist, singer-songwriter, guitarist, and whistler. With that year’s album The Mysterious Production of Eggs, Bird minted a new sound that continues to be imitated today.
To celebrate the 20th anniversary of The Mysterious Production of Eggs, Andrew Bird is releasing a very special boxset featuring a 54 page book including photographs, special surprises, and two essays: one written by Andrew himself, and another by Anders Lindall examining the circuitous and fascinating process Andrew and collaborators took to record the album.
The boxset also includes the original release of the album, alongside two LPs of never before released material, on black vinyl. On one LP, a one-to-one playthrough of the album but of demos, live cuts, and alternate versions. The third LP includes more never released rarities on Side A, and a selection of songs from the original album performed by Andrew with the Nu Deco Ensemble. The original cover artist has created all-new artwork for the anniversary piece.

Bristol's Tara Clerkin Trio return to World of Echo and the EP format for a five song collection of quixotic, emotional redolence. But do not mistake their absence for inertia. If their musical output has been a little sparse during those in-between years, limited to a few solo ventures and an astonishing ten minute long piece as a trio, their time has otherwise been richly spent: continuous writing and recording, extensive live performances across Europe and Japan, a cultivation of local and more far-flung artistic connections (musical and otherwise), and a monthly NTS show that, through the voice of others, speaks most obviously to their own unorthodox interests. It's the conflux of that winding activity that leads indirectly to On The Turning Ground, 26 minutes of probing, thoughtful composition that draws from no one specific source. Their inspirations might be centreless, but the trio still possess a very obvious anchor in the form of their hometown. Bristol stands as a city of multitudes, heterogenous and vibrant in such a way as to allow it to renew and remake time and again. Tara Clerkin Trio drink from that same well, duly reflecting a rich musical heritage built on fwd-facing electronic subcultures and experimental urges.

As such, On The Turning Ground finds them subject to their own subtle internal evolution, the pervasive sense that you've caught them mid-bloom, on their way to becoming but never anything but themselves. The two instrumental pieces that bookend the EP stand as a perfect case in point, displaying an increasing mastery of compositional space. Pensive and restrained, 'Brigstow' and 'Once Around' both emanate an interstitial quality that's not so much after- as in-between-hours, miniature dub-folk symphonies held together by the kind of tacit understanding that remains the preserve of only the closest of family units. If those two tracks are shaped by a sense of shifting temporality, then the three vocal-led pieces that comprise the record's core feel like a gentle ossifying of aesthetic into something approaching their own unique form of avant-pop. 'Pop' is, of course, a broadly subjective concept, but there's no avoiding the overt sparkling melodicism of songs like 'Marble Walls' and 'The Turning Ground', undeniable re-directions of that late 90s impulse to bend pop sensibilities into off-centre terrain, to render the familiar new again. This is what Tara Clerkin Trio do, gently pulling the ground from under your feet, turning you to face something you'd not quite seen before. To view the world as they do: sideways, sometimes, all of the time.

The album presents a distinctive artistic statement built around song, texture and collective exploration. Opening tracks such as 'Fair Weather' and 'The Big Flood' draw on the oblique lyricism of Henry Cow and the surreal songcraft of Robert Wyatt, with Beraha's voice at the centre of a sound world shaped by analogue radio collage and drifting, delayed saxophone lines. Punk-inflected rhythms emerge on 'Modern Times', while the reflective 'Into the Woods' blends lyrical song with collective improvisation, highlighting the ensemble's dynamic range. Across the album, tightly composed material sits alongside free improvisation, cinematic writing and storytelling. Tracks including 'February' and 'I the King' explore contemporary jazz, humour and surreal narrative, while groove- led pieces such as 'Dorian Gray's Bathroom Cabinet' and Morricone- inspired 'Same Time Next Week' showcase rhythmic drive and playfulness. The album closes with 'Strangers on a Train', where scripted text gives way to improvised spoken dialogue over a relentless pulse, uniting the record's themes of collaboration, narrative and spontaneity. Reflecting on the recording process, Kevin Figes describes Wallpaper Music III as "a joy to make", marking a return to Rockfield Studios and a collaborative experience with musicians whose sensitivity, imagination and improvisational skill shaped the music at every stage

Some years ago, Kjell Bjørgeengen and Keith Rowe attempted to convert video signals into sound by setting up Rowe’s pickups next to an old CRT monitor, turning its magnetic field into a sound generator. Rowe further developed the system with David Jones at Alfred University, slimming down the setup using a copper coil, a circuit board, a video input, and a telephone pickup. Jones named it the »Flood Coil«, and it’s that instrument you can see on the album’s front cover and that lies at the core of these recordings, made without any physical live input from the artists themselves. In essence, it’s generative music in its purest form.

Bjørgeengen’s video feed is generated by oscillators, then routed into Marhaug’s pedals and then back into the Flood Coil, so any visual shifts alter the sound, and any modification to the sound changes the video. The duo have played this setup live many times, but for this studio version they left the system to do its thing without any intervention for two minutes at a time before moving onto the next idea. They recorded hours and hours using this process and then selected 18 highlights for this album, extracting harsh noise, power electronics, lulling feedback drone, and peculiar rhythmic snippets to show the scope of their technique.

A wall of growling, hi-octane Pulse Demon-style noise opens the set, gradually exposing us to more asymmetric textures, shifting through unstable repetitions that transform Merzbow’s metal-inspired screams into »Aaltopiiri«-era rhythmic noise. It’s remarkable, actually, how much Marhaug and Bjørgeengen can squeeze from the system, chancing on shivering, lower-case chugs and pops, galloping drums, soundsystem subs, and grinding blast beats that sound like Napalm Death’s »Scum« piped through a broken amp stack. It ain’t pretty, but noise/industrial freaks will revel in the fierce delights inside.

Carlos Giffoni reconnects with Thurston Moore for two sides of loose-limbed axe noise, oscillator worship and hard-phased, Spacemen 3-style feedback.

Giffoni’s been on a roll recently. Since the No Fun founder returned to the scene with »Vain¡, a genius set of synth mutations that appeared in iDEAL back in 2018, he’s been slowly ramping up the activity, dropping the celestial »Dream Walker« on Stephen O’Malley’s Ideologic Organ in 2024 and following it with »Pendulum«, a bumper compendium of collaborations, just a few weeks back. For those who remember Giffoni’s first trip round the block, he was always able to hold his own chopping it up in person, not just by mail.

Just scrub through his early catalog and you’ll see collabs with Nels Cline and Chris Corsano, Merzbow, Jim O’Rourke and Lasse Marhaug, and of course, Thurston Moore. The two rekindle their thing on »IGUANA’« picking up where 2001’s fabled »4 Guitars Live« performance left off. Here, Giffoni straddles a tabletop synth and FX while Moore attacks his signature Jazzmaster with a drumstick and a screwdriver – vibes fully intact.

Moore is on blistering form, sounding as if he’s taken a step back to refresh his approach since the early ‘00s when he could be spotted moonlighting on any number of basement-adjacent noise sides. Sawing at his strings and turning the guitar into a shrieking resonator, he leaves only faint vapours of the classic Sonic Youth sound as opiating accents on his animalistic wails and rumbles. On the opening half, his whammy – assisted shreds are balanced out by Giffoni’s off-world whirrs and airlocked vibrations, building a dense wall of noise towards an unexpectedly elegiac conclusion. At some point, Giffoni’s rasping churr transforms into a simmering shudder and Moore’s into hymnal drones – squint a bit and you could almost call it pretty.

Of course, they ramp things up on the flip, dissolving the melancholia with smokey white noise and twangy, post-Derek Bailey chimes that Giffoni accompanies with aggy oscillations. Like every great taped noise set, the recording quality is crucial - »IGUANA« was captured from the pit by Guillermo Hernandez Avendano, the dad of Lia Miranda who provides the cover photo. It’s that kinda show.

Defying labels across the board, and turning old-style ancestral narratives into brutal and harrowing portraits of life on the edge of nowhere, the Fibbers wrap each of Lost Somewhere Between the Earth and My Home\'s 12 songs into a ball of fury and toss it against the wall of tradition, just to see what happens. Chaotic noise breakdowns give way to melodic singalongs, songs twist and turn through several side paths before reaching their destination, and everything sounds as if total annihilation is imminent. Scary, thoughtful and highly inventive, Lost is the sound of country gone to hell.

Defying labels across the board, and turning old-style ancestral narratives into brutal and harrowing portraits of life on the edge of nowhere, the Fibbers wrap each of Lost Somewhere Between the Earth and My Home\'s 12 songs into a ball of fury and toss it against the wall of tradition, just to see what happens. Chaotic noise breakdowns give way to melodic singalongs, songs twist and turn through several side paths before reaching their destination, and everything sounds as if total annihilation is imminent. Scary, thoughtful and highly inventive, Lost is the sound of country gone to hell.

The album opens with the ominous guitar-driven Hollow Sky, accompanied by its haunting music video's verdant vistas. The song, with Iceglass ghostly vocals, shimmers with that sounds like an Omnichord flittering like sonic firefly lights and brooding bass. This perfectly scores the less traveled wanderings through the dark wooden path of Dante's perdition, leading to the titular well that graces the album cover. The Crater opens with an unsettling riff and bass, with low, repetitive frequencies on the synth create a sense of unease. Here, Iceglass recounts a fatalistic requiem for the king of romance that is cataclysmic and leaves a scar upon the earth. With Fall Industrial Wall, once again, Iceglass channels a silky and Nico-like emotive deadpan; against a dirgelike melody backed by minimal synth, bass, and drum. Almost medieval and plaintive, with its folk droning horns, deep and shallow in their resonance. This song is anachronistic, setting the scene of ruins centuries-old with crumbling edifices strewn about like memories lost in time. With the poetic lyrics of The Chamber do we find the eponymous abyss. Here, dualities are laid bare; besides love, there is heartbreak, and without this sorrow, what meaning would there be to love if one knows not what it is to lose? This song encapsulates the idea that love is heartbreak, and love lost is reaching the deepest chamber of the heart. This is carried through a sombre horn, minimalist drum machine, and deliberate bassline overlaid with Iceglass german and english lyrics. The Well is led in with a softly distorted bassline overlaid with eerie banshee howls give way to Iceglass otherworld vocal refrain, echoing through time as if emanating from a hole in the ground, and encircling that hole is a garden of woe and despair. The sinfully seductive song The Moor features a captivating SAX SOLO courtesy of Perseas; a welcome shift in tone, juxtaposed well with the intensity of Iceglass tenebrous vocal purr. This hitherto unexplored foray into dark sensuality takes the song into sordid mid 80s territory, bringing to mind a dusky drive along a serpentine road, with equally haunting instrumentations straddling time with icy fire. Broken Characters is an acoustic folk interlude featuring Selofan's Dimitris Pavlidis on guitar. Here we find a more gentle approach with its earnest and romantic lyrics. The song's melodic hook is a soft caress along with the forlorn horn elements highlighting Iceglass at her most Nico-sounding vocal yet, singing the sorrowful truth that most artists are indeed broken characters. Chimerical opens with dirgelike synth organs. The chill of winter has befallen the lamentations sung by Iceglass carried by haunting chord progressions and minimal percussion, plaintively beseeching the song's subject to remain elusive, idealistic, and a dreamer. After an album highlighting more Jill than Jack, our male protagonist finally makes his ascent in the sonorous and breathtaking Dark Hill, a masterful march of sweeping synth horns, and trepidatious drum machine with William Maybelline's bellowing voice cracking like thunder, rattling the atmosphere like his heart against his ribs. Spirals swirls in a cautionary knell of cathedral-esque droning synth dirge, with Icarian lyrics shining like a sombre ray of hope; like the sun's rays creeping into the darkest of places. The song, minimalist in its tight percussion, echoes with the solace of Larissa Iceglass vocal litany; invoking elements of the supernatural, almost like a Casio preset sequenced to the beating of an angel's wings.

Talulah’s Tape is the debut offering from magnetic Midwest-jangle collective Good Flying Birds. Across a patchwork mixtape of stripped-down home recordings that span the independent-guitar spectrum, the band delivers colorful, intricate pop songs perched between the immediacy of DIY punk and the intimate sweetness of twee. Breakbeats, memes, and noise glue everything together, making the album feel as chronically online as it is timeless.

Originally released on cassette in January 2025 by Midwest-punk legend Martin Meyers’s Rotten Apple label, the tape sold more than 300 copies in under a month and quickly became an out-of-print and coveted item. Meyers called it “certified catnip for popheads.” Now, with a refined track list and a fresh master from Greg Obis, Talulah’s Tape returns on LP and CD via Carpark and Smoking Room in October 2025.

While production and approach vary, a through-line of sensitive self-contemplation rests on bright, scrappy guitars and hyperactive melodic bass. Opener “Down on Me” rides a buoyant bass line while jangling guitars frame reflections on overcoming trauma: “I see you in the mirror every time I cry / I hear your voice every time I try.” Next, the guitars trade twinkling counter-melodies on “I Care for You,” pairing sugary, lovestruck lyrics with effervescent strums: “You catch me when I fall / You build me up so tall.”

The rosy grin occasionally twists into a wicked smirk. “Dynamic” warns, “You used to paint the face, but now you’re just the clown,” while “Glass” asks, “Is it lonely at the top when everyone follows the trend, and you hold the pen?” Both tracks brim with sparkling guitar interplay. By the closing, nearly five-minute “Last Straw,” Good Flying Birds stand far beyond conventional indie-pop or 4-track punk, unveiling a roller-coaster of unpredictable changes, vocal harmonies, and instrumental cross-talk.

Altogether, Talulah’s Tape is a pastel-yellow, candy-coated shell filled with thoughtful juxtapositions and melodic experiments. Standing on the same ground as idiosyncratic songwriters like Connie Converse and Daniel Johnston, Good Flying Birds find sweetness in sadness, tear stains on a colorful flower-print couch. Simultaneously, it’s packed with the scratchy guitars and vibrant rhythms of Scottish guitar groups like The Pastels, Orange Juice, and Josef K. It’s a tremendous opening statement from a band just getting started.

The new album by L.Y.R., their third commercial release, begins with the idea that the furthest points of light - stars - can only be seen in the dark. It’s a kind of contradiction that finds musical expression in these new tracks, the band always navigating towards sightings of hopefulness and constancy in an increasingly bewildering and storm-battered world.

The term dark sky reservation has its origins in environmentalism, and several tracks on the album deal with the messed-up weather of our contemporary planet, both meteorological and psychological, from descriptions of an earth deluged by thunderstorms to the soggy back-gardens of suburbia, a climate crisis brought on by rampant urbanism. In that context, dark sky reservations are those regions of the landscape where light pollution is discouraged and even outlawed, to allow scientists and casual stargazers to peer into the cosmos and see the glory of the constellations, patterns of light that have entranced and mystified us for hundreds of thousands of years.

It’s from those designated zones that human beings get a sense of their place in the universe, and experience the wonder of the here and now against a context of eternity and infinity. An alternative to the hectic craziness of everyday life, so often virtual and synthetic, the dark sky reservation is a place of refuge and dreaming, and like L.Y.R.’s music, such spaces are earmarked for contemplation and thoughtfulness.

L.Y.R. is author and current British poet laureate Simon Armitage, singer-songwriter Richard Walters and multi-instrumentalist & producer Patrick Pearson.