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Hanne Lippard and Renato Grieco's Today's Special is a suite of language works synthesising melody and diction that integrates the literary and the audible in a repertoire of songs that bask in the melody of voice and the punctuations of structured composition. Working with methods of reduction rather than opulence in both tonal composition and rhetoric, each piece pegs the poetic to the musical with compositional schematics and methods. It is important to state that there is little to none improvisation here, instead, the duo set up matrices, rules and structural links that facilitated meaningful locus of exchange between their two practices. Lippard's texts are a collection of new and previously completed works. In these, as is typical for her work, she enjoys the easy pleasure of wordplay, iterative language, and decontextualised anecdote, as in opener Portrait of a Betrayal, a piece about the loss of a phone and the way it haunted the owner who dropped it, based on a lived experience. Grieco's instrumentation works with Lippard's language art as a form of acoustic typography. "I studied graphic design and I think about how you can express typography through voice," she says. "Renato's use of the viola da gamba becomes like an underline, or a font's brushstrokes, in ways that feel typographical." In this, the classically-trained composer Grieco often finds and echoes the pitch movements of Lippard's voice, intonation mirrored and revealed, linguistic meaning doubled and shadowed by plucked, strummed or bowed strings. His main instrument is the viola da gamba, the instrument considered closest to the human voice for its tonal range and ability to mimic inflections and timbre, and here he brings it even closer to the voice, building systems by which it moves with and around Lippard. He also plays piano and Wurlitzer, and joins her in speaking on Receiver and in conversation for final track The Black Rose. "Hanne's voice is an artist's voice, embodied as the artwork itself," he says. "But where my approach is from the perspective of a composer, hers is around rhetoric and language. We worked towards each other in this sense, Hanne finding a space to welcome my voice, and me designing an acoustic space to enhance her vocal persona." In some tracks the structural connections are obvious - the matched tumbling delivery and stepped pitches of voice and piano in Aficionado sounding like two tipsy friends descending a staircase. In others, like the triptych of tracks Three Rungs Ladder, structured with rules derived from nursery rhymes, or cumulative song (akin to the 12 Days of Christmas). For the Colour 1 and Colour 2 pieces, the duo worked from palettes of colours connected to clusters of harmonies, which underlined the power of the word and its articulation. The absurd Labradorable personifies a people pleaser, A Story About Being Blue is an imagined playful monologue from the Deep Blue supercomputer - requesting in sing-song stop motion to be called Debbie, and Larry - as Grieco echoes in factual reportage. Hurtbeat unpacks and recomposes a tweeted non-apology by a Russian art collector about owning a piece of racist art, Grieco shadowing Lippard's generating a third `drop-shadow' performer from the resonances between the duo, typographic re-articulation of the source material. The Receiver includes lines from Robert Ashley's Improvement (Don Leaves Linda), Ashley existing as a spiritual parent of sorts to the practices contained on Today's Special, and here interpolated as if he is being quoted and written through within the audible world of the piece in a palimpsest of borrowed sentences. Closing track The Black Rose contains its own self-aware comedy, a lightly distorted conversation sourced from a Reddit thread about whether black roses exist, recorded as if it were an internet radio or a low budget podcast, the casual exchange stilted in the delivery of platitudes as scripted speech. Today's Special was developed in person over the course of a series of small residencies - at Deutsche Akademie Rom Villa Massimo, Rome; Fondazione Morra, Napoli; Callie's, Berlin. In these limited periods that rarely stretched beyond a week, Lippard and Grieco developed strategies for the works, keeping tightly locked to musical concepts. This, for Grieco, is about maintaining a solid, meaningful connection within the compositions, and committing to everything having a purpose for existing within the work. Each element pulls its weight; has something to say, literally and metaphorically speaking. In the same way that Lippard's work leaves nowhere for her to hide, he wants the music to exist with its own naked purpose: "It's is about exposing nudity via reduced materials," says Grieco. "This is a form of courage we want to embrace. Once we take off everything, it needs to be extremely precise to maintain a connection with the audience. We have a lot of tools to hide behind now, to protect ourselves and our identities as artists, performers, and in life more generally. It's something I don't want to do. I want extreme reduction: no hiding."

With one foot in the Mexican underground rock scene and the other one in the global tape trading circuit, Las Ánimas del Cuarto Obscuro found themselves in the middle of a crossroad after their first LP. México wasn´t the same country as when the band first started. Even though access to non-commercial music still was a difficult task in the late eighties, the fringes of culture had way more resources thanks to the stubbornness of certain anonymous heroes: dwellers of El Tianguis Cultural del Chopo, niche record stores, illegal underground parties and hosts of late night Mexican public radio shows.


Ubiquitous social unrest expressed itself in every way possible. The aftermaths of the 1985 earthquake weren’t the only matters on the table. Protests erupted after a rigged presidential election and a student strike hit Mexico’s biggest public university. This was just the tip of the iceberg of issues PRI’s perfect dictatorship was or wasn’t addressing. The clash of the authoritarian regime against new and fresh ideas.


If the first record was about the loneliness of self-destructive youth and it’s urban phantasmagories, LACO’s second LP dealt with change as the axis of human existence. Las Ánimas is just the beginning of the sonic metamorphosis Toño Sánchez went through until this very moment.
The departure of former bandmembers set a different approach towards more experimental and atmospheric sounds. As the project’s only member, Toño Sanchez took an alchemical trip aiming for more mysterious horizons.


Despite the fact that we can still find conventional dark pop and catchy songwriting, the record rests on sound landscapes closer to Jorge Reyes or Tuxedomoon and This Heat than the orthodox ways of so called post-punk, seasoned of course with the lack of music gear and the economic reality prevalent in Mexico of those convulsed times.


Las Ánimas is a goodbye letter to underground but not because the next move is the mainstream. Far away from it, it’s a farewell to traditional rock and a the first steps down into the depths. From now on, Toño Sánchez will dedicate his musical efforts to weirder sounds and scarcer audiences in the search of the arcane, possessed by a mania of constant change that infects the soul after crossing the black door’s threshold.

X Clan emerged from Brooklyn, New York as one of the most distinctive and politically charged groups of the early 1990s. The original lineup, Anthony “Sugar Shaft” Hardin, Claude “Paradise” Gray, Jason “Brother J” Hunter, and Lumumba “Professor X” Carson, became the driving force behind the Blackwatch movement, a collective that also included artists such as Lin Que aka Isis and Queen Mother Rage.

Renowned for their Afrocentric vision, militant activism, and unmistakable sonic identity, X Clan quickly rose to prominence. Their 1990 debut album To The East, Blackwards sparked both acclaim and controversy, reaching No. 11 on Billboard’s Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums and No. 97 on the Billboard 200. The record delivered several standout singles, including “Heed The Word Of The Brother” backed with “Raise The Flag”, “Funkin’ Lesson” backed with “Shaft’s Big Score”, “Grand Verbalizer, What Time Is It?”, and the funk-driven, sample-heavy track “Verbal Milk”.

The group’s original formation dissolved in 1995, and tragically, both Sugar Shaft and Professor X passed away later that year.

To The East, Blackwards is now reissued on vinyl for the first time since 1991, honouring one of hip‑hop’s most influential and culturally resonant albums.

Dylan Atlantis' Insta bio read 'amateur artist' at the start of the year.

Now she's on a billboard in Times Square.

With vocals and lyrics that extend well beyond her young years, Dylan Atlantis is the definition of meteoric rise.

Pitchfork describes her as ""the silky R&B singer, sliding in with the laid-back cool.""

THE PHILIPPINES-BORN, WEST SYDNEY BASED MUSICIAN WAS RAISED on a musical diet of RnB and Hip-Hop by her Mum. Now a self-professed lover of all genres of music (even country), she's out here sharing her innermost thoughts and lyrical experiments with the world. ""I kinda just treat music like a diary but also a science lab where I can experiment expressing myself in different ways until it's awesome enough that I feel compelled to share it.""

Impressed Recordings are proud to present Dylan Atlantis' release - It Starts Again, on limited edition vinyl.

Die Band ,The Black Heart Procession" besteht aus den beiden Hauptsongwriter Tobias Nathaniel und Pall A. Jenkins, die beide zuvor bei ,Three Mile Pilot" mitwirkten. Manchmal treten sie als reines Duo auf, zu anderen Zeiten laden sie Freunde ein, mitzuspielen. Mario Rubalcaba (Clikitat Ikitowi), Jason Crane (Rocket from the Crypt) und Kazu Makino (Blonde Redhead) wirkten an der Entstehung von ,Three" mit. ,Three", das ursprünglich im Jahr 2000 erschien, ist das dritte Album der Black Heart Procession in voller Länge. Die Klänge der Instrumente verschmelzen miteinander und untermalen den Rhythmus von Palls ausdrucksstarkem Gesang. Jeder Song scheint sich unaufhörlich vorwärts und rückwärts zu bewegen und spielt dabei mit dem Kontrast zwischen hellen Klängen und dunklen, grüblerischen Themen. The Black Heart Procession brechen Herzen mit der Verschmelzung von Klängen aus Klavier, Säge, Pumporgel, Gitarre, Trompete und Gesang sowie dem einen oder anderen ungewöhnlichen Perkussionsinstrument. Die Klänge mögen bei einigen von Ihnen Schmerz oder Freude auslösen - oder beides -, da ihre Musik von Trauer und Herzschmerz durchdrungen ist, doch es liegt ein unterschwelliges Element der Befreiung darin.

Gatefold LP and printed inners !

Superb IDM techno/house and breaky Ambient IDM Sounds... A Modular project _ith a crazy sound exploration, sweet and surprising.
A music art project.

BIG !

Red w/ black splatter vinyl. Savage Grace return with Underworld, their fourth studio album and first new full-length since 2023's acclaimed Sign of the Cross. Led by founding guitarist Christian Logue and featuring a powerful new lineup of Sebastian Hauser (vocals), Cristian Blade (bass), and Marcus Dotta (drums), Underworld delivers classic high-speed power/speed metal intensity with modern fire.

Berlin-based trio Roomer weave noise, melody, and memory into expansive guitar-driven songs. Formed by long-time friends and collaborators Ronja Schößler, Ludwig Wandinger, and Luka Aron, the band brings together distinct voices from across Europe's avant-garde, folk, and electronic scenes, folding these lineages into a sound that moves between shoegaze density, diaristic songwriting, and sonic exploration. Their music often holds opposites in suspension: clarity and blur, structure and drift, intimacy and collapse.

Their debut album Leaving It All to Chance (2025,) introduced this language in full, pairing emotionally direct songs with shifting textures and dense layers of distortion. With Staircase Made of Rope, their second album on Squama, Roomer widen the frame further. Built largely from improvisations and first takes, the record embraces instability as method, moving between density and silence while allowing melodies to surface and dissolve in unexpected ways.

Gia Margaret’s acclaimed debut album, There’s Always Glimmer, is finally back in print on vinyl in Europe. Informed by the likes of Juliana Barwick, Stina Nordenstam and Linda Perhacs, this understated, self-produced record threads rich elements of folk, shoegaze and ambient electronics whilst retaining the exposed charm of her early bedroom recordings. This limited eco-mix pressing was first made available from her merch desk on her recent European tour and is now available from select record stores.

Some recordings herald the future in ways that are impossible to see in real time. Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር), by the artist Teodros Makonnen, also known as Teddy Mak, is one of those. Today, electronic sounds, synthesizers, and digital production are taken for granted in Ethiopian music, but in the early 1980s, they were novelties that polarized opinion. Even to this day, the story of Teodros Makonnen’s legacy has never been properly told. He played a decisive role in defining the sound of the digital era of Ethiopian music that emerged in the 1980s and beyond, both as a keyboard player and as a producer, songwriter, performer, and sound designer.

Ethiopian music was at a crossroads in the early 1980s. Much like music in the rest of the world, technology and automation heralded either a quantum leap in musical development or the annihilation of musicianship, depending on who you’d ask. The changes were incremental nonetheless, but with the benefit of hindsight one can clearly see that the changes meant different things in different contexts. Drum machines and electric organs came to replace many hotel bands because, all of a sudden, one musician could control drums, melody, and accompaniment. Teodros was one of the first musicians in Ethiopia to explore the possibilities this opened up.

Teodros’ father, Captain Makonnen Beri, was a chief pilot at Ethiopian Airlines and a music enthusiast at that. This would prove important to his development, as Makonnen brought back a piano from Germany, which would lead to the first steps in Teodros’ long musical career. Captain Makonnen’s work as Head of Flight Operations and as a pilot exposed him to the wider world that was far from commonplace for most Ethiopians. In a house where music captivated the whole family, the piano gave Teodros’ talent an outlet. Not only was a piano at home rare in Ethiopian households, his father also brought an Indian teacher to their home to teach Teodros and his brother, Captain Samuel Makonnen, music theory (solfeggio or ear training) and piano. Teodros and his youngest brother, the late great Dereje, a member of both the legendary Ibex Band and the Ethiopian reggae group Dallol, took up music from that point onward, with Teodros beginning to develop his proficiency at the age of eight. His father encouraged him to practice tirelessly at home, and Teodros later received musical schooling at the German School in Addis Ababa.

His obvious talent led to studies and formal education at the Yared School of Music, followed by continued studies in American jazz at Northern Virginia Community College in Virginia. Teodros cut his teeth professionally in his mid-teens, not only as a keyboardist, but also as an arranger for the Wabi Shebelle and Dahlak bands in the 1970s. He mastered electronic sequencing early, rising to prominence through the midnight recording sessions held during the military curfew. The pressures imposed by the curfew required precise and disciplined recordings, and Teodros delivered just that. This, in turn, led to collaborations with iconic artists such as Mulatu Astatke, Aster Aweke, Menelik Wossenachew, Tilahun Gessesse, Mahmoud Ahmed, and Alemayehu Eshete.

In those days, he sat in as a keyboardist with the Dahlak Band when Dawit Yifru took a hiatus to study in Russia, and also with the Ethiostar Band. He secured a residency at the Wabi Shebelle Hotel with the Shebele Band, together with Zelalem Tadese (drums), later succeeded by Elias Bekele, Mulugeta Hailu (bass), Teferi ‘Bibisha’ Mengesha (guitar), Kumelachew G/Selassie (trumpet), and Teshome Deneke (saxophone). A friendly competition developed between the bands associated with the Ras Hotel (the Ibex Band), Ghion Hotel (the Dahlak Band), and Wabi Shebelle Hotel (the Shebele Band). The music scene at Wabi Shebelle saw teenagers commanding the spotlight in an industry otherwise dominated by musicians of an older generation.

At the Wabi Shebelle Hotel, Teodros met a diplomat from Saudi Arabia and later visited him at his home in Addis Ababa, a meeting that had unexpected musical consequences. The man owned a Yamaha double-deck keyboard. That evening, they recorded Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር) in one take. This recording, a cornerstone in the early digital sound of Ethiopian music, came about almost by chance, simply because Teodros got the opportunity. Traditional Ethiopian songs were cast in a wholly electronic style.

Once freed from backing duties, Teodros’ keyboards could explore dreamlike soundscapes that took Ethiopian music in new directions. Even though the cassette contained well-known Ethiopian songs, they were given highly original arrangements, performed on an electric organ with drum machine backing and rhythm patterns that left the listener with suggestive, lingering sounds. “Libesh Kabashen” (also known as “Anchi Bale Game”) and “Odu Gol Golesa” wrap you in the very stuff that dreams are made of.

Originally released on cassette only, this recording exudes a mystique that surpasses even some of the most obscure Ethiopian recordings of the day. It remained more or less unknown outside of Ethiopia until now. Some of the tracks, like “Addis Fikir,” are permeated with an almost naive buoyancy, free-floating sounds that lost contact with the ground the moment they were conceived. Others, like “Meche New Hageren Yemayew” and “Lelitu Alnega Alegn,” carry a moodier, quirkier timbre, with pulsating rhythms in the background. Yet even the darker pieces contain an unmistakable wave, something essentially Ethiopian. If most recordings of Teodros’s contemporaries at the time were teeming with atmosphere, his songs seem instead at home in the stratosphere, almost ethereal. Some of the music here could be filed under “lullabies,” were it not for the recurring, almost brooding feeling that engulfs the listener on the aforementioned tracks. You could easily be forgiven for drifting into a blissful haze as the music washes over you.

Up to the advent of electronic music production, Ethiopia was totally dominated by big bands on the one hand, and small groups on the other. The former were tied to large institutions such as the military, the latter emerged from the entertainment industry, in hotel bars and nightclubs. These groups were commercially driven, and bands ultimately had to foster a mercenary approach to employment, albeit not to the passion for music. In the light of this, Teodros’ musical legacy can be seen in two ways. On the one hand, he is a key player in Ethiopian music from the 1970s onwards, leaving an indelible mark through hundreds of compositions and arrangements, including soundtracks for numerous documentary films and advertisements for different companies. On the other hand, the way he and others employed electronics brought Ethiopian music onto a fork in the road.

The replacement of traditional instruments with electronic equipment was seen as impending doom by some. Others, like Teodros, saw new avenues for performance, production, and creativity. Just as later producers like Abegasu Shiota of Admas, Teodros was a trailblazer who opened paths that it took Ethiopian music as a whole more than a decade to rush into. The hotel scene had already been pushed toward electronic music by financial necessity and cost-cutting. Today’s revived global interest in Ethiopian music from the seventies and eighties, alongside a broader resurgence, has changed the reasons for using digital means of music production. They have become tools for musical dreaming. This is where the dreaming began.

»Breathing Soil« is the third full-length album by Swiss musician and performance artist Elischa Heller. As a member of groups such as Film 2, Beurre, or 222Rn as well as in his live practice as a solo artist and his performances, notions of physical and temporal presence have always informed his multi-genre approach. These two side-long compositions centre around drone music and are both intended as an invitation to listen deeply as they are a product of deep listening itself. Drawing on Heller’s live practice, which aims to create shared social experiences, this music mediates between matter and metaphysics.

»If we recognise that we and the world around us are nothing but vibrations and oscillations, drone music can get in touch with a profound aspect of our ways of being,« says Heller. »It enables us to get in tune with our surroundings and each other.« Hence, resonance serves as the guiding principle of his work. As Heller explains, the title »Breathing Soil« can be read in two ways: As a description of how one breathes in the soil and gets in touch with the Earth through the sound, or that it is the soil itself that resonance, with sound serving as the connective tissue between different forms of being.

»Breathing Soil« relies on radical forms of reduction that treat sound as raw form—as vibrations and oscillations whose subtle acceleration and deceleration can have wide-reaching consequences. Meant to be played on speakers, the subtle shifts in dynamics, timbre, and volume of these two pieces are supposed to resonate with the rooms in which they are played. This music aims to make the things sing.

Intriguing Siberian B-Boy roots informed Anton LTF's first solo album last year and its mix of funk, hip-hop and early turntablism influences really worked. He's back now with a tidy two-tracker on Soul Service Sabrosura that leans into Latin funk. It's raw, direct and charged up tackle for once again getting under the skin of b-boys and girls thanks to the killer breaks. 'Garra' is lit up with shuffling percussive keys and rhythms and big brass horns, while 'Aroma Sunset' is more pared back and loose. There's a celebratory vibe that's smoother and more languorous, with sunny flutes leading the way and irresistible Latin charm in the ways the keys dance.

2026 Repress

Irish techno producer, Kerrie, returns to Tresor Records on the 24th of October 2025 with her second EP for the label. Entitled Echoes Of The Live Wire, this collection captures the beauty and essence of live performance; a moment in time never to be repeated.
This fixing of time is also given a different meaning as the EP explores the ways in which intense moments in our lives, both joyful and painful, are crystallised into memory, both beautiful and haunting, lingering long after they've passed.
Layered meanings are employed throughout as Kerrie explores this idea: Live Wire draws connections between circuit boards and the human nervous system, whilst also toying with multiple meanings of the word “live”.
Echoes Of channels classic Detroit techno influences, resonating with the distant hum of memories that refuse to fade, while Moment To Memory is a beatless, floating piece which slowly builds to an ecstatic crescendo.
Digital bonus tracks Recircuit and Reclaim add further depth to the core metaphor: the former a driving, minimal yet building techno work-out, and the latter a cathartic and emotionally open track that delivers intensity with vulnerability.
Echoes Of The Live Wire reflects on memory as a complex, dual-sided force where joy and pain coexist with equal weight. Her creative process becomes a form of meditation and emotional processing, using machines to process, reflect, and let go. The result is a body of work that loops back on itself, telling a story of fleeting moments and their lasting emotional imprints.

Sol Novo is a tale of three parts, created by João Comazzi and Murrin of Púca Sounds & Jogada. In many ways a sequel—and a not-so-distant cousin—to 2022’s Cavalo, the pair return to blend their references into a new, ultra-visual language. Spinning through a sonic world mired as much in greenery as it is in the underground, Sol Novo invites you along for the ride.

The title track, "Sol Novo," whirls into a dubbed-out dawn break, collaging through samples and organic ear-catchers while sun-drenched choruses weave through the mix, reverberating as the light lingers.

On the second track, "Pindorama," Paszarinha’s call to the space-warp curls out from under dark blue bass. Fitting equal parts dreamland and dance floor, the track builds a world to get lost in through ever-orbiting breaks layered with Côco rhythms echoing in the deep.

The final track, "Brasia," arrives in full color: a story led by elements of Gagaku with Axêxê chants and a shimmer bathed in vintage synths. Landing like a call to movement that pulls you up and keeps you moving, it’s a kaleidoscopic sound caught between ancient ritual and electronic nostalgia.

Originally released in 2005 on Playhouse, isolée's second album we are monster received widespread critical acclaim and was featured in numerous year-end lists, including Pitchfork's Best Albums of 2005, where it is praised for breathing "so carefree, years from now crits might accuse it of sounding timeless-- maybe even of being so." (Nick Sylvester in his Pitchfork review in 2005)

While closely associated with the minimal and microhouse movement of the mid-2000s, the sound on we are monster resists categorization; its musical vocabulary is too expansive to be confined to a single genre. Tracks such as schrapnell, mädchen mit hase, my hi-matic and enrico avoid many of the production conventions that define its period, allowing the record to retain a freshness that continues to resonate with listeners and music producers alike.

We are monster proved to be significant in more ways than one. Alongside its musical legacy, the album introduced the first record sleeve by Stefan Marx, whose artwork would become a familiar presence across countless releases on influential labels like Smallville or Mule Musiq, but also fashion labels like Comme des Garçons and many art galleries in the years that followed.

This anniversary edition revisits an album whose influence extends well beyond its original context!

Originally released in 2005 on Playhouse, isolée's second album we are monster received widespread critical acclaim and was featured in numerous year-end lists, including Pitchfork's Best Albums of 2005, where it is praised for breathing "so carefree, years from now crits might accuse it of sounding timeless-- maybe even of being so." (Nick Sylvester in his Pitchfork review in 2005)

While closely associated with the minimal and microhouse movement of the mid-2000s, the sound on we are monster resists categorization; its musical vocabulary is too expansive to be confined to a single genre. Tracks such as schrapnell, mädchen mit hase, my hi-matic and enrico avoid many of the production conventions that define its period, allowing the record to retain a freshness that continues to resonate with listeners and music producers alike.

We are monster proved to be significant in more ways than one. Alongside its musical legacy, the album introduced the first record sleeve by Stefan Marx, whose artwork would become a familiar presence across countless releases on influential labels like Smallville or Mule Musiq, but also fashion labels like Comme des Garçons and many art galleries in the years that followed.

This anniversary edition revisits an album whose influence extends well beyond its original context!

Balaise was the original title of Vers le Nord’s debut album. In French slang, balaise means something in between badass and flamboyant. The word keeps popping up throughout the record, like a teenager’s graffiti scrawled on a bus shelter after a few drinks. Balaise robots. Balaise ghosts lurking in the shadows. Balaise is the barfly who fantasies about becoming a street vigilante. In many ways, Matthieu Pellerin's new solo project is entirely contained within that word: a gigantic piece one man against the world cobbled together, a monument shaped by hand using layers of synthesizers sounding like cathedral organs cast in concrete.


Stitching this type of freak together took time. Five years, or what sounds like forever in an age obsessed with career trajectories and content strategies. But for Matthieu Pellerin, it was never about career plans or taking the easy road. Or he would have dug up the rotting corpse of Oi Boys, his now-defunct band, whose brief existence and explosive popularity once united sullen skinheads, gothic street punks, and old school punks alike. Or he would have fully embraced the Metz scene, now that the Great International Triple Alliance of the East (Noir Boy George, The Dreams, The Feeling Of Love...) and rising solo acts like Tune Zitoune, Josy Bazar, Fantôme Josepha, and Tony Gerrano have somehow transformed this sprawling open-air heroin camp into an unlikely capital of cool. But Vers le Nord doesn't point East, and it is as a lone rider that Matthieu Pellerin can fully reveal his songwriting scope.


With Le Seul Élément, his first solo project, the Lorraine native had already shown a rare gift for crafting worlds. Picture vast sonic masses stretching like industrial zones, noise-filled fog pierced by pale neon lights and landscapes caught somewhere between the gnarliest dive bar and a doomsday bunker. And slipping through the soul-crushing slowness and fractured blackened atmospheres, one could perceive a throwback to his years plotting in black metal-tinged Loth and Bishop.

Vers le Nord populates those landscapes that once were rough sketches. Damaged characters reign supreme, with a plethora of exquisite mutts brought to life, rather than outcasts committed to the cause. Where Nuits Blanches —his new supergroup featuring members of Rixe, Lion's Law, Headbussa and La Femme— pulls no punches with raw confessions, Pellerin switches gear for tales of robot apocalypses, vagrants and fam-seeking school shooters, delivered with William Sheller-esque rhymes and striking images. Yet even within fiction, he manages to create something deeply intimate, almost defining, showing very little effort: he is a natural. All in all, à l’aise (at ease). Songs resonate deeply with the listener, perhaps because of Pellerin’s odd way or always addressing someone without ever really naming them, a floating, obsessive and inescapable “you” calling us out.


Despite all of the darkness, Vers le Nord stirs deep emotions. There is something of Type O Negative or Anna von Hausswolff in its constant collision of the ludicrous and the epic gothic, its bleak romanticism that never tells a sordid tale. While the vocals remain rooted in a distinctly French punk lineage—think No Class, La Souris Déglinguée and OG Bérurier Noir—the reactor core is hidden somewhere else. Oneohtrix Point Never feels like a closer relative with his ultra-emotional music made of cold synths and disembodied anthems, swallowing and regurgitating forty years of icy, contemplative new wave across ten songs. It comes as no surprise that Lila Ehjä and Aimable, two rising specialists in lowering the temperature below seasonal norms, appear on “Enterrez-moi bordel” (“Bury Me, for fuck's sake”), a grandiose, spectral and magnificently arrogant finale. And in the end, Vers le Nord starts where the original idea was hiding all along: somewhere amid the ruins, definitely balaise and yet somehow, completely à l'aise.

22, A Million is a record of dualities. First released in 2016, Bon Iver's third album found Justin Vernon reckoning with pain and love, suffering and redemption, omens and happenstance. Such ambiguity is the core of how Justin composes words: there are always two ways to see something. Inside a fragmented language of symbols and numbers is a sonic distillation of past years of turbulence and how to recover. Across ten songs, 22, A Million shattered expectations of what a Bon Iver record could be. Through different groups of friends—close, passing, new, old—he began to assemble proto-melodies, vague textures and specific moods from hundreds of hours of recorded improvisations. Songs like “22 (OVER S--N),” “33 ‘GOD’,” “715 - CRΣΣKS” and “8 (circle)” traded familiar structures for fractured electronics, pitch-shifted vocals and dense layers of sound. What initially felt like a radical departure has since become one of the most influential and enduring works in Bon Iver’s catalog. 2026 marks the ten-year anniversary of 22, A Million. To celebrate,


Bon Iver and Jagjaguwar will release a deluxe anniversary edition pressed on Frosted Silver vinyl, featuring new alternative artwork with soft-touch finish and spot UV gloss detailing. The package will include the original 28-page lyric booklet, represented here in 3x silver inks, with an additional 12-page full-color inlay booklet documenting the album’s creative process through previously unseen artwork and an essay penned by Eric Timothy Carlson. The Brooklyn-based artist’s visual work has shaped the Bon Iver world since 22, A Million and his visual language has become inseparable from the album itself. A custom 12-panel ‘inverted cross’ CD edition will also be available.

Astro’, the new double LP by Donato Dozzy, is in many ways a culmination and intersection of life-long interests, and Tresor Records is delighted to announce that it will launch into the cosmos on November 20, 2026.
Donato Dozzy is beloved for his way of blending synthesised sounds into seamless, deep, hypnotic works, whether as a DJ or in the studio. So it might come as a surprise that at the root and source of Dozzy’s musical inspiration, we find Japanese children’s cartoons and toys.
In the late 70s into the 80s, Italian youngsters, including Dozzy, were captivated by a wave of Japanese cartoons featuring Jumbo Machinders, awe-inspiring robots on adventures beyond our solar system. Every episode came dubbed into Italian, and had its own specially written Italian theme song, each pressed onto a 7inch single. This was the launchpad for two lifelong obsessions: vinyl records and vinyl figurines, and still kept in his home today in immaculate, carefully tended collections.
In 2025, Dozzy took a sample from the first of the Japanese themes he ever owned, Astro Robot Contatto Ypsylon. Marking the first time he had directly sampled a song for his own work, later to become the track ‘Astro’, this created an impulse to begin a series of new music, sparked by the robots in his collection.
Dozzy’s meticulous respect for his collections is reflected in the precision of these tracks. Elements within each track are harmoniously organised together while ever retaining a sense of space that reflects the cosmic subject matter. Explorative tracks like ‘Raydeen’, and ‘Himika (M Song)’ exemplify this with powerful yet gentle arpeggios, while ‘Pegasu’ brings forth visions of robots assembling for a deep-space mission launch.
Much like the human characters in the cartoons who piloted the Jumbo Machinder robots, on ‘Astro’, Donato takes control of mighty machines such as the EMS Synthi AKS to create sonic journeys for us all to embark on. ‘Jumbo Crack’, written on the AKS, is a soaring beatless piece built of rising bass tones and white noise that combine to conjure taking off from earth or a long journey through space. The whole collection is rounded out with ‘Ryoma (Lò Song)’, a gigantic trance anthem that could easily be the closing credits of your favourite childhood cartoon.
With ‘Astro’, Donato Dozzy pulls together threads in his life: the warp of music and synthesisers intertwining with the weft of childhood memories. A tribute to that freedom to dream, and to the sounds that, from the turntable of his childhood, led him toward alien and technological musical territories.

Cold, Bold & Together (CBT) CBT was founded in Bellingham, Washington in 1971 by percussionist Tony Gable and musicians Solomon Harris, Keith Hooks and twin brothers TC & Jamar Jenkins. It soon became evident that Bellingham was not a particularly welcoming environment for R&B music, so they moved to Seattle to try their luck and plumb the rich supply of venues, which they successfully did until disbanding in 1978. They spent their early Seattle years playing a combination of covers and originals in clubs, later becoming the "go to" opening act for various nationally known artists, such as Ohio Players, Kool and the Gang and Earth, Wind & Fire. While they were paying their club circuit and opening act dues, they squeezed in recording sessions whenever they could and released their own material, which was well-received and got strong regional airplay. However, because of the feudal nature of the music business at the time, they just couldn't break out, and like a lot of Northwest bands with great potential, they inevitably broke up and went their separate ways. Upon disbanding, they left behind a collection of original recordings at Seattle's legendary Kaye-Smith studios.

Unfortunately for CBT, the studio passed through several owners and at some unknown point in time, one of them did the unforgivable and destroyed the storied studio inventory of two-inch tapes and quarter-inch masters. Unknown to the band, a copy of their masters was smuggled out by their producer who added them to his legacy collection of cloned quarter-inch masters. After several years and many moves, he became concerned about the tendency for magnetic tape to deteriorate over time.

He sent the tapes to a Seattle lab to be restored and digitized, with the hope that perhaps, some day, they might be made available for the listening pleasure of R&B fans. The hoped-for day has finally arrived. Russell Paine and Super Disco Edits has pressed two of the Kaye-Smith CBT tracks: "Go For It", a jazz-influenced instrumental, featuring Kenny G, and "Unity", sung by the group en masse with Tony Gable singing lead. The musicians on these tracks are: Tony Gable, leader, vocals and percussion Harry Alexander, drums Kenny Gorelick (now world-renowned "Kenny G"), sax, flute and horn arrangements Chris Ishi, trumpet Michael Young, Trombone Jamar Jenkins guitar, vocals TC Jenkins bass, vocals 1 Philip Woo, keyboards Footnotes: CBT gave legendary saxophonist Kenny G his start in the music business. Kenny was still in high school when he was recruited to play sax and write horn arrangements. Kenny co-wrote, arranged and played sax and flute on the instrumental "Go For It." He rips a smoking tenor sax solo in the middle, which showcases his already masterful technique and solidifies his R&B bona fides. He went on to have a spectacular career recording for Clive Davis and Arista Records. Before his untimely passing in 2016, Tony Gable went on to found contemporary Jazz group, "Tony Gable and 206" (206 being Seattle's then only area code). With songwriting, performance and production help from Kenny G.