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The unconscious element to the conscious process.

The practice of dub techno and its tendrils is a fundamental for me, both aesthetically and from an engineering perspective.

I start every recording session with a dub inspired jam, the first piece I ever recorded in 1996 was an effort to recreate Phylyps Trak with only a Korg X3 and an Ibanez PUE5 (borrowed from Gary Howell). It was an awesome introduction to jamming, and the footing stones of noise, delay and saturation were explored with my foot hard on the enthusiasm pedal.

These practice jams are in some sense cathartic, the first step taken again & again, which helps me move forwards each session and additionally helps to 'warm the circuits' both of myself and the machines.

After realising the genius of Basic Channel is akin to the genius of peasant food, using every ingredient with nothing left to waste, (up to and including the oft maligned working noise of the machines themselves), this was a watershed moment for my own subjective progression. No longer tied to just emulation of something inspiring, but taking these learned tools into other areas of music helped to break free from a strong current of influence and also to progress into other areas with the new toolbox.

Dub:

The importance of the dub pioneers should never be understated, in modern music and my own practice. Yet with my initial inspiration being two german dudes issuing extreme techno variants with obscured label designs, who then signposted their listeners to their own inspirations (via their Wackies re-issues or nodded to on their Rhythm & Sound/Burial Mix sub-labels), meant that I started late and travelled backwards.

Learning to notice the live mixing of Mikey Dread or Lee Perry when the faders are bleeding through even when turned down, (echoed in BC's Quadrant Dub), or the brash send effects literally thrown into the mix also taught me that 'rough' mixing can inject a recording with life, uniqueness and the most right wrongness. Looking back Basic Channels very few elements helped me realise that the rules to be understood, are also the best ones to be broken.

Push the mixer into the red.

Amp that noise up from the tape delay cos it sounds sick.

Pseudo side-chain effects cos the kicks are way too loud and the mixer can't sum it nicely.

Spam the send knob into the delay units now, now and now.

Carelessness.

Noise:

Once I wrapped my head around the intrinsic 'noise' element that set those records apart, this became a torchlight into the alt noise movements which I was tentatively exploring at the time, and also is evidently a connection or thread into them.

Whether the Industrial/Post Punk UK scene (This Heat, TG, A Tent, F.E.) or the prolific output of the US Noise scene (Wolf Eyes, Live & Shave in LA, and subsequently following the lineage all the way back to Chrome's Alien Soundtracks), I had finally discovered a connection from techno to this 'free for all' corner of music.

This input from the Noise arena of sound is, in my experience, an all important step for a sonic artist, taking it's roots and extending out from Stockhausen/Pierre Henry and utilised/warped/mangled by thousands of adventurous pioneers ever since, I now see the line separating the high brow and the low brow is actually an artery carrying information from the head to the heart.

Vault is a selection of these jams that precede each of my solo recording sessions, for 30 years I've recorded hundreds of these 'workouts'. They are never intended as serious statements, just moments of naive enjoyment, yet most importantly they are time & space captured as practice.

The objective is always a warm up exercise, but sometimes those exercises turn a different corner, with a certain focus or direction dependent on what random samples are left in my machines from the previous session, instead of conscious choices, these unconscious elements can facilitate those 'positive mistakes' that make a piece of sound retain a different feel or colour and thus become special, or at least special to the creator.

I am quite conscious that the 'record everything' aspect of my ethos has been invaluable in cataloguing and saving these jams, while the attitude of carelessness during this process (after all, it's only a warm up jam) invites more enjoyment than seriousness ever could. Even if you don't feel the piece at the time, record it, because some years later it may well fit, or become relevant in a way you never intended.

-Miles

At the height of grunge, Morphine sounded like nobody else. The Boston trio built their own strange, seductive musical language (coined "low rock" by frontman Mark Sandman), built around Sandman's two-string slide bass and unmistakable voice, Dana Colley’s baritone & tenor saxophone, and stripped-back drums (Jerome Deupree, Billy Conway). Morphine became one of the defining cult bands of the ’90s, but their story came to an abrupt end in 1999, when Sandman suffered a fatal heart attack on stage during a concert in Italy.

More than 25 years later, Cocoon offers an extraordinary final chapter. Its eight songs were recorded during Morphine’s late-’90s sessions before Sandman ultimately shelved the material on the path toward what would become their final album. Rediscovered in the band’s archives decades later, Sandman’s life partner and Morphine estate manager Sabine Hrechdakian and producer Paul Q. Kolderie (Radiohead, Pixies) transferred the original tapes and carefully assembled this unified collection of Morphine songs. Dana Colley returned to add new saxophone parts, and Kolderie then brought new mixes to the table. Rather than a collection of demos or outtakes, Cocoon is a fully realized Morphine album revealing a band still pushing forward that somehow waited nearly three decades to find its way into the world


Album Background

The background on the album is that the majority of the songs existed in demo form on a CD release called "Sandbox" a semi-legit release of Mark Sandman music on 2004. These versions are the completed tracks that include contributions from Morphine saxphonist
Dana Colley and produced and mastered by Morphine's long time producer Paul Kolderie.

At the height of grunge, Morphine sounded like nobody else. The Boston trio built their own strange, seductive musical language (coined "low rock" by frontman Mark Sandman), built around Sandman's two-string slide bass and unmistakable voice, Dana Colley’s baritone & tenor saxophone, and stripped-back drums (Jerome Deupree, Billy Conway). Morphine became one of the defining cult bands of the ’90s, but their story came to an abrupt end in 1999, when Sandman suffered a fatal heart attack on stage during a concert in Italy.

More than 25 years later, Cocoon offers an extraordinary final chapter. Its eight songs were recorded during Morphine’s late-’90s sessions before Sandman ultimately shelved the material on the path toward what would become their final album. Rediscovered in the band’s archives decades later, Sandman’s life partner and Morphine estate manager Sabine Hrechdakian and producer Paul Q. Kolderie (Radiohead, Pixies) transferred the original tapes and carefully assembled this unified collection of Morphine songs. Dana Colley returned to add new saxophone parts, and Kolderie then brought new mixes to the table. Rather than a collection of demos or outtakes, Cocoon is a fully realized Morphine album revealing a band still pushing forward that somehow waited nearly three decades to find its way into the world


Album Background

The background on the album is that the majority of the songs existed in demo form on a CD release called "Sandbox" a semi-legit release of Mark Sandman music on 2004. These versions are the completed tracks that include contributions from Morphine saxphonist
Dana Colley and produced and mastered by Morphine's long time producer Paul Kolderie.

Breakbeat Paradise Recordings welcomes back Umbo for another heavyweight installment of the Toxic Funk series. One of the original pioneers of the Nu Funk movement, Umbo once again delivers two dancefloor-ready cuts packed with soulful samples, infectious breaks and unmistakable funky vibes.

Having released music on respected labels such as Good Groove Records and Timewarp, Umbo has built a reputation for crafting timeless party weapons that blend classic funk with modern breakbeat production. His previous appearances on Breakbeat Paradise have become fan favorites, and Toxic Funk Vol. 24 raises the bar once again.

Leading the release is Got Soul, a groove-laden funk workout driven by punchy drums, irresistible basslines and uplifting soul energy that's destined to ignite dancefloors. On the flip side, Save It delivers another dose of vintage funk attitude, combining tight breaks, funky rhythms and cleverly chopped vocals into an irresistible DJ weapon.

Whether you're spinning funk, breaks, nu disco or party edits, these two cuts are built to keep the energy high. Toxic Funk Vol. 24 is another essential addition to the Breakbeat Paradise catalogue and proof that Umbo continues to be one of the scene's most consistent producers.

Weezer founding member and original bassist, Matt Sharp, while working on a series of “lost-albums” from the cutting room floor of his creative-life, stumbled upon a curious multi-track reel of analog tape. This mysterious reel found at the bottom of a treasure chest of other master recordings just happened to contain Weezer's very first studio sessions. These were the very same recordings that were responsible for earning the band a record contract for their iconic debut “Blue” album. These newly discovered sessions feature raw, vividly emotional and ecstatic versions of the band's timeless hit songs Say It Ain’t So and Undone (The Sweater Song.) Sharp and legendary music producer Joe Chicarrelli took these recordings to Los Angeles’ famed East/West Studios to take a deeper look into this mythic reel of 1-inch Ampex tape. What the two men quickly discovered was the original lineup (with guitarist Jason Cropper) in an infectious, explosively joyful, feral form. Making the decision to honor the original intention of the music and the traditional technology of the era, the songs were remixed from top to bottom, from tape to vinyl, in a 100% analog process.With Sharp as producer and Chicarrelli on the mix, the result of these sessions makes up the entirety of “1192” (named after the month and year it was originally recorded.) The illuminating spirit of the performances on 1192 are guaranteed to turn the world upside down for blue album fans everywhere. This album stands on its own as an essential entry into the band’s discography and is crucial to understanding the first chapter in Weezer's storied history.

The Montréal psych-ambient synth-droners return with Sequence Three, their first album in five years and the final instalment in the group's opening trilogy of records that began with Sequence One in 2019. The spectral supergroup co-founded by Stephen Ramsay (Young Galaxy) and Jace Lasek (The Besnard Lakes), usually joined in some capacity by Lasek's Besnard bandmate Olga Goreas, deliver another dose of its trademark longform slowburn jams, forged from restored vintage synths and analogue electronic gear. Lasek and Ramsay don their seasoned producer hats to apply rockist sound design to minimalist tracks, saturated with tube compression, drenched in pink and brown noise, all queasy modulation, sparse beats, and languorous melodic lines. Evoking a humid dawn on a gas giant, these alien drone anthems meld the numinous transcendentalism of Spiritualized and Cluster with the eroded grit of William Basinski and GAS. Light Conductor has been tagged "heavyweight analogue synth nirvana" by Uncut Magazine and praised for its "fabulous, epic, shimmeringly radiant kosmische" by Electronic Sound, among other accolades. Sequence Three consolidates these strengths, while leaning into the darker disquietude that has always been an undercurrent of Light Conductor's aesthetic. Opener "She Glitters The Dust" fades up slow with intertwining detuned synth loops, a languorous lullaby beat dropping at the 3-minute mark, accompanied by insectoid shimmers and a tease of melody that's eventually given free reign over the song's second half. Aptly titled, it's as if a transmission captured within a cosmic dust cloud has provided the raw material for the band to jam on, tease out, and terrestrialize. An echo of that beat sets the tranced pulse for "Omenize", the centerpiece of Side One and the fulfilment of Light Conductor's one-vocal-track-per-album directive. With layered harmonies by Goreas and Lasek, this is the group at its ethereally anthemic best, the devotional floating-in-space bliss attenuated by another gently warped denouement. "Ghost City Radio" closes out Side One with the band's most overtly anxious tune to date, deceptively stolid in its simple bass guitar riff and filter-swept hi-hat: groove stripped to its minimum as the foundation for an extended spokenword sample of a doomsaying prepper/preacher, a sort of homage to that early hallmark of their Godspeed compatriots, done up through the lens of Light Conductor's inimitably destabilized celestial ambience. (Lasek mixed the most recent two GY!BE albums.) Side Two offers up "High In The Orange Air", a beatless, squelching, bubbling ostinato drone and the album's most orthodox ambient kosmische track. This provides the set and setting for 15-minute closer "Supercontinent", which starts off in similar territory but gradually yields to a submerged and reversed techno pulse pumping through coruscated chordal drone, gaining in woozy mesmeric psych intensity over its inexorable hypnagogic trajectory. Sequence Three rounds out a satisfying trio of full-lengths that Light Conductor has released on Constellation, featuring vibrantly minimal geometric cover art designed by label co-founder Ian Ilavsky that integrates the trilogy as a visual series as well. In keeping with the previous two albums in the set, the Deluxe 180gLP includes a 12"x24" art poster. Thanks for listening.

»Pipe Dreams II & III« presents two new, side-long organ works by Mary Jane Leach, extending the sonic investigations of her 1989 landmark »Pipe Dreams«. Recorded in Ghent and Cologne, the two side-long pieces use shifting stops, resonance and beating tones to turn the pipe organ into a vivid, physical field of sound.

When »Pipe Dreams« was issued on vinyl for the first time by Blume in 2017, it was effectively the first time many of us encountered Mary Jane Leach’s music, finally placing her work in its proper historical context amid the searching Downtown milieu of Julius Eastman, Arthur Russell, Arnold Dreyblatt, Ellen Fullman, Philip Corner, Daniel Goode, and Peter Zummo. Leach collaborated with most of these artists at one point or another, either in Downtown Ensemble or as a guest on their records.

Now »Pipe Dreams II« and »Pipe Dreams III« arrive, recorded in 2023 and 2024 at Miry Concertzaal in Ghent, Belgium, and Kunst-Station Sankt Peter in Cologne, respectively.

»When I was a young child, my family lived next door to a church, where my mother was the organist. I spent many hours lying on the floor of the sanctuary listening to the music, letting the sound of the organ envelop me. I also liked to play the piano loudly with the pedal down, producing clouds of sound, much to my family’s annoyance. These two organ pieces explore some of my earliest musical interests and aesthetics.

In 1989, I lived in a tower attached to St Peter’s Church in Cologne, where I had access to its organ. It had two sets of pipes, front and back, which could create antiphonal effects. I spent countless hours exploring the possibilities of all the permutations of notes, space, and the resulting sound phenomena. I wrote »Pipe Dreams« for that organ. Fast forward to 2023, when I was asked to create a piece for organ for a concert at the Miry Concertzaal in Ghent, Belgium: »Pipe Dreams II«. I had a few days to familiarise myself with the organ, its available stops, and the layout of the console. I choreographed stop changes for a volunteer, as I couldn’t reach them myself. Some amazing sounds began to happen, and at one point the sound was so visceral that I felt as though I were taming a wild beast.

»Pipe Dreams III« was performed in 2024 on the organ that I had spent so much time playing in 1989–90. One big difference, though, was that the console was totally new and computerised. Having access to the organ for only a few hours before the concert, I decided that I did not have enough time to feel comfortable with the console and should not attempt to recreate the piece I had written in 1989. I would instead use the same sequence of stops and perform an improvised piece. I loved the sounds that were being created, and I was having so much fun that at one point I even started to laugh quietly. I began to visualise the beating notes as if they were atoms, opening them up to expose their innards, with the beating, higher-pitched notes — neutrons and protons — shimmering at the top, and the lower notes — the electrons — throbbing away at the bottom. I was playing notes not so much for their pitch value, but for how they affected the notes and sound phenomena already being played. Instead of a time signature, I timed the entries by listening to the beating patterns, waiting for the right moment to enter. And no, I wasn’t hallucinating.«

Mary Jane Leach, 2026

In collaborating with iconic vocalists Matthew K. Heafy (Trivium), Josh Middleton (Sylosis) and Anthony Lucero (Cult Leader), Burner take a striking step forward to claim new territory while consolidating their extreme and unique sound into the heaviest and bleakest incarnation of their craft yet. Vocalist Harry Nott elaborates on the themes behind the new album: "If It All Returns To Nothing looked outwards to the world's chaos throughout history, No One Is Coming To Save Us instead looks inwards at its proposed cause; humanity's violent, animalistic nature, begging us for change. This is an album about human behaviour: that people create endless cycles of violence by repeating the mistakes of the past, forging a brutal history that we fail to learn from. But, at the same time, the album is about questioning whether we can ever get past those sins and repetitions. This is a record that is mournful as much as it is angry and engaged. It longs to bitterly recall the moments of greatness and sacrifice in our shared history that created the better world we currently destroy. It longs to look back at these moments for inspiration and optimism, at a time where it feels like hope is running thin. The album is also a struggle for hope, not just that humanity can overcome hatred and violence, but that we can look back on our greatest moments and take courage to build a better world. No One Is Coming To Save Us reflects this duality in its title: that no one will come to save us from the violence and tragedy we create as part of our humanity. But it also proposes that it's up to us to change - to overcome a violent human nature and usher in a better tomorrow."

The Montréal psych-ambient synth-droners return with Sequence Three, their first album in five years and the final instalment in the group’s opening trilogy of records that began with Sequence One in 2019. The spectral supergroup co-founded by Stephen Ramsay (Young Galaxy) and Jace Lasek (The Besnard Lakes), usually joined in some capacity by Lasek’s Besnard bandmate Olga Goreas, deliver another dose of its trademark longform slowburn jams, forged from restored vintage synths and analogue electronic gear. Lasek and Ramsay don their seasoned producer hats to apply rockist sound design to minimalist tracks, saturated with tube compression, drenched in pink and brown noise, all queasy modulation, sparse beats, and languorous melodic lines. Evoking a humid dawn on a gas giant, these alien drone anthems meld the numinous transcendentalism of Spiritualized and Cluster with the eroded grit of William Basinski and GAS. Light Conductor has been tagged “heavyweight analogue synth nirvana” by Uncut Magazine and praised for its “fabulous, epic, shimmeringly radiant kosmische” by Electronic Sound, among other accolades. Sequence Three consolidates these strengths, while leaning into the darker disquietude that has always been an undercurrent of Light Conductor’s aesthetic.
Sequence Three rounds out a satisfying trio of full-lengths that Light Conductor has released on Constellation, featuring vibrantly minimal geometric cover art designed by label co-founder Ian Ilavsky that integrates the trilogy as a visual series as well. In keeping with the previous two albums in the set, the Deluxe 180gLP includes a 12”x24” art poster. Thanks for listening.

First up in the series - Heavy Salsa and Latin Soul from Puerto Rico-born pianist Eddie Lebron and Orquesta Suave, the album that kickstarted Ghetto Records. Ghetto Records was Joe Bataan’s way to get over on “The Man” and out of the ‘hood, a bold move by an artist looking for independence and creative control in an industry that had exploited his talents and treated him like chattel. As Bataan puts it today, “Ghetto Records was part of my journey, a stepping stone to everything else that I’ve done. I learned enough that it enabled me to get out of the box with my thinking, it showed me how to deal with adversity.” Like many dreams and schemes born of the street, this one was audacious, perhaps even reckless to a fault. Hatched from desperation yet full of hope Ghetto Records came crashing down shortly after its inception. The seven albums in its discography languished out of print - until now. These are the definitive reissues of these albums, licensed from Joe Bataan, with his oversight and input into a 16 page oversize book by Pablo Yglesias that details Bataan’s larger-than-imagination life and his little Latin label that could.

“Music for me, is rarely complete,” says GODFLESH mastermind Justin Broadrick, “but it has to reach a point where enough is enough. Creatively, there has to be self-discipline. One has to end it.” Broadrick is primarily referring to the nebulous process of writing and arranging songs into their various potential shapes, but he could just as easily be describing GODFLESH’s imminent conclusion. Just three years after the hypnotic crunch of Purge, 25 years after an uncertain hiatus that nearly scuttled the band, and 38 years since GODFLESH’s inception, Broadrick and bassist-at-arms Ben Green set out to mercilessly crush this cold world with their tenth and penultimate album, this year’s Decay. “Decay was born from the same sessions as Purge,” Broadrick declares of the new record’s six tracks. “It was one huge pool of songs. I picked what I felt was appropriate for what I wanted to achieve with Purge, with the intention of releasing the songs that didn't fit as a new album within a year of Purge being released. Unfortunately, two years passed whilst considering external labels, so that I didn't have to self-release GODFLESH anymore, but it took an awful lot of time to establish a comfortable home for me. The recordings were done, but as usual for me, I did change a lot of stuff once I came back to it.” Now, GODFLESH is ready to unleash an even bolder, bleaker series of sounds in Decay. These songs arrive shortly after Broadrick released a public statement about major abdominal surgery he underwent earlier this year.

Abramelin’s self-titled 1995 debut is a landmark in the Australian Death Metal scene, featuring some of the heaviest riffs ever recorded Down Under and deranged lyrics brimming with unbridled brutality and violence! Australian Death Metal for the most part has been really solid. Abramelin does nothing to deter from that thought and “Abramelin” is known by many death metal fans as a classic. These Aussies laid forth a chunk of brutal death metal in 1995. Around that time, the established sound of the Florida scene and even in other areas such as Sweden had begun to morph into something else as bands attempted to prevent stagnation. One such new avenue of creativity was to simply get heavier, louder, and more punishing, and by those standards Abramelin’s self-titled debut delivers on every level. Now available again on CD and vinyl, this long overdue re-issue brings back a true underground classic from one of Australia’s most overlooked Death Metal bands.

CHTHONIC's award-winning 2018 album Battlefields of Asura reissued on vinyl in September via Svart Records CHTHONIC is a Taiwanese metal band formed in Taipei in 1995, with the members nowadays split between Helsinki and Taipei. Their 2018 album Battlefields of Asura is an award-winning release. With this album, CHTHONIC won their second Golden Melody Awards, Taiwan’s equivalent of the Grammy Awards. CHTHONIC's lyrics are inspired by Taiwanese mythology, folk stories, and history, while its music incorporates elements of traditional Taiwanese folk music, enka, and the sorrowful melodies of Taiwanese opera. These are accompanied by traditional instruments such as the hena and koto. Also integral to CHTHONIC's sound are elements of symphonic black metal and melodic death metal, along with intense riffs and solos. Critics have attempted to categorize CHTHONIC as death metal, folk metal, or black metal, but the band has opted for the simpler label of metal. They've performed at many major festivals around the world, including Fuji Rock and Summer Sonic in Japan, Ozzfest in the US, Download in the UK, and Wacken Open Air in Germany, as well as having toured extensively across Europe, North America, and Asia over the years. Prior to this album, CHTHONIC was signed to Spinefarm Records / Universal Music Group, under which they released three albums and toured internationally. After their 2014 European tour, the band decided to slow down, and vocalist Freddy Lim began his political career. He was elected to Taiwan's Parliament in 2016 and re-elected in 2020. During his tenure, he pushed for LGBTQ rights and gender equality, helping Taiwan become the first Asian country to legalize same-sex marriage, along with advocating for Indigenous rights and other human rights issues..

CHTHONIC's award-winning 2018 album Battlefields of Asura reissued on vinyl in September via Svart Records CHTHONIC is a Taiwanese metal band formed in Taipei in 1995, with the members nowadays split between Helsinki and Taipei. Their 2018 album Battlefields of Asura is an award-winning release. With this album, CHTHONIC won their second Golden Melody Awards, Taiwan’s equivalent of the Grammy Awards. CHTHONIC's lyrics are inspired by Taiwanese mythology, folk stories, and history, while its music incorporates elements of traditional Taiwanese folk music, enka, and the sorrowful melodies of Taiwanese opera. These are accompanied by traditional instruments such as the hena and koto. Also integral to CHTHONIC's sound are elements of symphonic black metal and melodic death metal, along with intense riffs and solos. Critics have attempted to categorize CHTHONIC as death metal, folk metal, or black metal, but the band has opted for the simpler label of metal. They've performed at many major festivals around the world, including Fuji Rock and Summer Sonic in Japan, Ozzfest in the US, Download in the UK, and Wacken Open Air in Germany, as well as having toured extensively across Europe, North America, and Asia over the years. Prior to this album, CHTHONIC was signed to Spinefarm Records / Universal Music Group, under which they released three albums and toured internationally. After their 2014 European tour, the band decided to slow down, and vocalist Freddy Lim began his political career. He was elected to Taiwan's Parliament in 2016 and re-elected in 2020. During his tenure, he pushed for LGBTQ rights and gender equality, helping Taiwan become the first Asian country to legalize same-sex marriage, along with advocating for Indigenous rights and other human rights issues..

Errands is the first duo recording from Marja Ahti, Swedish-Finnish sound artist and electroacoustic composer, and John McCowen, a native of Southern Illinois, now residing in Iceland, whose work centres on a radical exploration of clarinet multiphonics. Working without the aid of electronics, McCowen has spent years finessing performance techniques that allow him to layer beating patterns and split tones that belie their source in a monophonic instrument. Ahti, in contrast, has built up a stunning body of work in recent years using a classic electroacoustic palette of electronic, field recordings and instrumental sounds. Sharing a bill at the 2024 iteration of Stockholm’s Edition Festival, the pair discovered a sensibility shared across their different sonic means, beginning the collaborative process that would eventually result in the mercurial side-long pieces heard on Errands.

The word ‘errand’ suggests something purposeful but routine, and Ahti’s and McCowen’s work is suffused with the everyday. Meeting with McCowen to record in Iceland, Ahti used the opportunity to gather field recordings, capturing not the natural sublimity often associated with the country—think Chris Watson’s shifting glaciers—but everyday life in Reykjavik. Snatches of bustling streets and what could be humming engines thread between static sinewaves, stretches of clarinet resonances and fleeting textures, the latter often at once visceral and impossible to identify. Errands: we are a long way from the grandiose framing devices favoured by the pioneers of electroacoustic music, yet many of their principles are at work here. The gradual metamorphosis of one sound into another, the carefully achieved ambiguity between the acoustic and electronic, the treatment of the stereo field as a compositional element: all of these link Ahti and McCowen’s music to the electroacoustic tradition, yet their sensibility is radically different. The overall effect is a kind of stillness, but one at peace with continuous change. Like the unwieldy but somehow stylish everyday forms captured in the Hertta Kiiski photographs that adorn the record's sleeve, the music seems to prize a kind of deliberate awkwardness, interrupting static held textures not with an abrupt cut, but with a quick fade, suddenly revealing background as foreground.

Ahti and McCowen’s world is everyday and unornamented, but also shadowed by the numinous. Halfway through 'Chorales', we hear an arrangement for overdubbed recorders of an early motet of Messiaen’s, O sacrum convivium! Played on recorders, the piece shrinks into delicacy and dim memories of childhood music lessons, while at the same time its harmonies retain the grandeur of their liturgical origin. This double quality inflects much of what follows on Errands, including snatches of field-recorded water or air, which seem at once elemental and domestic. Enlivened with countless details that repay repeated relistening, Errands is a record that leaves the listener ready to open their ears anew to their own sound environment.

The method is instability.

— Violeta Garcia & Hora Lunga

Violeta García & Hora Lunga return with 4ever, their second album and the follow-up to I’ll Wait For You In The Car Park. Released in 2025 on -ous, their debut received airplay on BBC and NTS and was selected for Bandcamp’s Best Experimental Music year-end list. 4ever picks up where that record left off: in ordinary moments, small scenes and the strange emotional weight of being somewhere between places. But here, these moments are stretched across a much larger, darker screen. A night flight, a terminal, a bad connection. When too many feelings are carried from one place to another, everyday situations begin to feel epic, empty, or apocalyptic.

Built from García’s cello and Hora Lunga’s synths, samples and field recordings, the album pushes further into emotion, letting fragile melodies, orchestral cello gestures, heavy low-end and compressed noise melt into something both dystopian and strangely familiar. Its warmth is not meant to be an escape from this world, but something that appears within it. Acoustically, the album lives through the closeness of the materials, the way sounds stay with each other, and in the feeling that even the most unstable moments are being carried together. The album presents itself in scenes that fade into each other: quiet melodic fragments that are interrupted and restarted, unpredictable changes of direction, held together by an inevitable melody, a bright synth harmony unfolding into an almost orchestral cello arrangement. Later, a broken organ-like sample turning in circles, cello melodies appearing as if they were trying to remember a song that never belonged to one voice alone. An endless loop that is placed under changing lights, briefly opening into emotional chords, then slipping back into emptiness.

It is this instability that Violeta García and Hora Lunga place at the center of their collaboration. They do not decorate the cello with production, or place electronics around an acoustic centre. They explain: “On 4ever, we become part of the same unstable surface. What holds the record together is not resolution, but the trust in staying together as things distort, overload, disappear and return.”

Violeta García, an Argentinian cellist known for her solo work and for her role in the punk band Blanco Teta, brings the instrument close to the body, as melody, pressure, texture, noise and sudden emotional weight. García has brought her distinct musical voice to KEXP, Rewire, Le Guess Who?, Bad Bonn Kilbi, Silent Green, TransMusicales, Roskilde and more.

Hora Lunga, a Zurich-based producer and composer working across unstable song forms, treats electronics less as a frame than as a weather system: something that can hold a scene together, distort it or make it disappear. In recent years, his compositions have ranged from experimental song forms, sound performances, ensemble compositions and film music. His ensemble WIRREN consists of up to fifteen performers.

It’s as sure as night follows day, one of the last truly reliable things in these uncertain times, a rock in the storm of information overload, and still one of the best things you can make from PVC: The new TOTAL compilation is here!

The cheerful opener “Xtasy” comes from the up-and-coming Cologne-based DJ H0TLINE. If it says ‘Ecstasy’ on the label, that’s exactly what’s inside. The term ‘legend’ is all too often bandied about lightly. In the case of ORLANDO VOORN, it’s almost an understatement. His ‘So Deep Remix’ is a goosebumps-inducing masterpiece in its purest form. Simply wow. FRANKEY & SANDRINO haven’t visited us for a while, but their key still fits the lock. Watch out – “Disruption” might expand your consciousness! Ah, nobody grapples so beautifully with life’s big questions as TEE MANGO, but what would the world be without melancholy? A Disneyland of triviality! TEAM 85E, newly formed around JÖRG BURGER, takes on a classic from the German songbook by Ton, Steine, Scherben and opens hearts with the same ease as others open tins of beer. Speaking of hearts, MICHAEL MAYER pays tribute to the successful Artemis 2 lunar mission, as a small thank-you for reminding us that it should really always be about love. SOG, aka WOLFGANG VOIGT, agrees wholeheartedly. Sometimes all it takes is a bass drum, eight notes and a bit of love for total satisfaction. ROBAG WRUHME does what he does best: luring us down the proverbial rabbit hole like the White Rabbit, just not quite so frantically. JÜRGEN PAAPE, together with FENJA LUDWIG, doesn’t pull a rabbit out of the hat, but rather a modern dub-techno hit. We watch in amazement as a new genre takes shape. Finally, it’s time to sit back and relax with REINHARD VOIGT and just let things be. Cocktail or beer? The main thing is: it’s cold.

Heavyweight psychedelic improvisers EarthBall are back with their third and most monstrous record to date: ‘Outside Over There’, released on Upset The Rhythm (Nov 7th). Born from the haunted basements of Nanaimo, Canada, the quintet thrives on spontaneity, shaping improvisation into jagged hallucinations and ecstatic eruptions.
Recorded live-off-the-floor in 2024 in Jeremy, Izzy, and Kellen’s basement, and mixed by drummer John Brennan, ‘Outside Over There’ is an album that feels both summoned and inevitable. Each track lands with uncanny purpose, as if uncovered rather than written.
The opener, 100%, features a cameo from comedian and English icon Stewart Lee, who lent his blessing for the band to use a fragment of his stand-up. The album was mastered by John Dieterich (Deerhoof), with liner text contributed by longtime comrade John Olson (Wolf Eyes). Olson describes the album in his unmistakable style:
“This eight-track odyssey unfolds like a dreamscape, where whispered incantations brush against the shadowy fringes of the cosmos, and wild, Cézanne-inspired rock anthems erupt like geysers of color in the midst of a western warm and wet rain storm… culminating in the sprawling eleven minute masterpiece, ‘And The Music Shall Untune The Sky,’ aptly dubbed the Earth Crusher. A creation so utterly deconstructed and intertwined with the pulse of nature itself that if AI was called upon to conceive ‘Outside Over There’ anew, it would just spit back, “F.U. in Tree Font”. An enchanting invitation for even the flat-earthers to join the circle, if only just a little.”
EarthBall’s trajectory has been relentless. Their 2024 album ‘It’s Yours’ was praised by The Quietus as “fully aggressive and fully life-affirming,” and by The Wire as "a boisterous mind-melting album”. The band’s live double set LP ‘Actual Earth Music Vol. 1 & 2’ (2025) captured blistering performances: a performance opening for Wolf Eyes at the Fox Cabaret, and a Café OTO improvised throw-down featuring Chris Corsano and Steve Beresford. These releases on their own confirm them as one of Canada’s most vital experimental exports, not to mention the impressive self-released discography on their Bandcamp. The band’s reach has stretched far beyond their west coast roots with a UK tour May 2024, plus this past June, EarthBall closed Montreal’s Suoni Per Il Popolo Festival alongside Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Raven Chacon. This November they will perform at Le Guess Who? Festival in Utrecht, with a European tour to follow (tour dates below). Outside of EarthBall, each member carries their own torch. Jeremy Van Wyck, founding member of the legendary Shearing Pinx, has toured extensively, released over 100 records, and has been a vital force in the Vancouver and West Coast underground for the past 25 years. He and Isabel Ford (Izzy) play together not only in EarthBall, but also in Psychedelic Dirt, Shearing Pinx, Behaviours, and Crotch.
John Brennan collaborates widely, including recently with Endlings (Raven Chacon and John Dieterich), Evichen (Victoria Shen), Francesco Fonassi, Plan Your Future (with Greg Saunier of Deerhoof), Brennan/Corsano duo and Physics with John Dieterich. Kellen Maclaughlin performs with KVMP and Ora Corgan, while saxophonist Liam Murphy is a west coast staple, playing with the best across Vancouver Island and the mainland. On three of the tracks of ‘Outside Over There’, the band is joined by their comrade Justin Patterson, who also plays with Brennan in the duo Modale. This cross-pollination fuels EarthBall’s sound - a collective improvisation, psychically overdriven, and grinding into bloom.
Outside Over There’ is more than an album though, it is a ritual, a gathering of sound at the forest’s edge; where feedback, saxophone screams, and ecstatic vocals dissolve the boundary between chaos and clarity. EarthBall invite you into their circle, to share in the joyful terror of spontaneous creation. ‘Outside Over There’ will be released on November 7th through Upset The Rhythm digitally and as a limited blue-in-black vinyl LP.

Pressure is the medium of wind players. Wind instruments all sound thanks to pressure differentials, whether that’s the rush of wind over a lip plate or a steady, buzzing exhalation through pursed lips. Ka Baird and Chris Ryan Williams (HxH) are wind players well- schooled in the power of using pressure and movement to amplify the mystery of an invisible force animating a metal tube. They augment their instruments, flute and trumpet respectively, with electronics, sometimes obscuring the acoustic sound source, sometimes making it hyperreal. Flutters of lip and tongue slither over the listener’s ear, and sustained tones become a dense fog, pushing on other kinds of visceral, emotional pressure points.

On Enthalpy, Baird and Williams’ first album as a duo, the energy they conjure feels barely contained, the pressure built up to a breaking point before spilling out in multiple directions at various speeds. They borrow the title from thermodynamics, referring to the total energy of a system based on its pressure and volume. The music flies out in bursts; it seeps and oozes, flows with intention. It is an incredibly rhythmic work without any hint of meter, full of sounds that punctuate with the thud of a dart hitting a bullseye. Williams’ capability to conjure swirling atmospherics, as well as his remarkable ability to pull fragments of melody from the haze, fit puzzle-like into Baird’s exclamations and the eruption of electronics that often dovetail them. The duo draws on tones from nearly the entire range of human hearing, from nimble but bulbous throbs of sub-bass to pinprick flickers of ultra-high end.

The sessions that produced Enthalpy were completely improvised, showcasing a degree of mind-meld that belies each participant’s thrill at approaching the unknown. This isn’t a casual conversation, but an omnidirectional tangle that ties and reties itself into new knots as the album progresses. Williams and Baird have both become ubiquitous presences throughout the New York City experimental music communities, collaborating with innumerable others and learning how their unique approaches work in tandem with similarly expansive thinkers and players. Even in the album’s most spacious moments, there’s a tension between the feeling of being unmoored and yet completely locked in, like the abyss is just one more river to cross. They ford it together before moving on to the next idea in lock step.

For the listener, Enthalpy is often felt in the body as much as it reverberates within the ears. We’re tossed from side to side, made to shoulder the impact of detonating electronics, absorbing these sounds with the feet, gut, and crown. Baird reaches into the back of their throat for guttural growls, and we can almost feel the scratch. As we tread the border of the synthesthetic, it's a reminder of the physical nature of sound, that the space between our ears and the speakers is its own enthalpic system of energy conduction. Move with it, let it move you, and see how it feels.

Tiki for the Atomic Age feels like a mid-century transmission intercepted from a parallel timeline—one where hi-fi futurism, Polynesian fantasy, and postwar optimism never lost their sense of wonder. Kava Kon isn’t recreating exotica so much as reviving its original promise: escape, elegance, and possibility, rendered in warm, widescreen stereo.

Built on shimmering vibraphones, reverb-drenched guitars, analog organs, and ritual-leaning percussion, these tracks move at an unhurried pace. This is oceanic music—designed for dim lights, glowing glassware, and time stretched just enough to breathe. The lineage is clear: lounge exotica, bachelor-pad modernism, space-age pop. But this isn’t pastiche or museum work. It’s retro-futurism with intention, imagined from the future looking back.

The “Atomic Age” isn’t just aesthetic shorthand. It speaks to contrast—leisure in the shadow of anxiety, beauty alongside uncertainty, fantasy as a necessary technology. Kava Kon understands that tiki was never about geography; it was about psychology. A constructed elsewhere. A permission slip to slow down.

Pressed on vinyl, Tiki for the Atomic Age comes fully alive: tactile, immersive, and meant to be lived with. For listeners drawn to mid-century dreamscapes and modern exotica that honors the past without freezing it, this is an invitation—step sideways out of the present and into something more elegant.

Radically exploratory, Raphael Loher’s Figuren is an album shaped by process and experimentation. Guided by intuition, listening, and a deliberate distancing from his primary instrument—the piano—, the LP marks a decisive step in the Swiss pianist and composer’s artistic development, expanding his sonic vocabulary while maintaining a distinct and personal language.

Figuren draws on ten intimate concert recordings from Keemuun—Loher’s debut for Three:four Records—created during the pandemic and performed in his studio for just one or two listeners. This source material was subsequently developed during a residency in the Blenio Valley, where Loher deconstructed melodic elements, isolated individual tones, and extracted resonances, reassembling them into new configurations. The process generated around 30 initial pieces and also informed his sophomore album, Hug of Gravity, released by Hallow Ground in 2025.

In a further stage of transformation, Loher processed these fragments through a Revox B77 tape machine, subtly altering their pitch before digitizing and reshaping them once again. This iterative cycle of manipulation and recombination forms the core of Figuren’s sonic language.

Departing from the more structured frameworks of his earlier work, Figuren foregrounds experimentation as both method and aesthetic. The compositions range from finely layered rhythmic microstructures to sparse, evolving melodic fragments, each unfolding with a precise sense of restraint.

Following the much-loved Library Music: Volume One (2022), and hot on the heels of this year’s critically acclaimed ‘After The Rain, Strange Seeds’ (9/10 - Uncut) , London group The Leaf Library return with a second journey through the margins of their catalogue. Gathering together rare recordings, compilation tracks, limited edition releases, collaborations and hidden gems from their ever-expanding musical world, Library Music: Volume Two is another vibrant and varied collection of electronic indie pop, in all its guises.

Far from a conventional odds and ends collection, the double LP compilation reveals another side of a band who have always treated the spaces between albums as places to explore. These are the moments where ideas stretch out; there are hypnotic drones, motorik rhythms, glowing analogue textures, pastoral electronics and the warm, melodic melancholy that has become unmistakably The Leaf Library. There is the electro-pop of Flowers At The Border, the psych rock-adjacent Building Better Worlds, and the gentle chamber shuffle of Kendrick Road. Tracks range from the 22 minute folk kosmiche epic Versatile Clouds to the 59 seconds, record skip punctuation mark of Harmonic Runout, with a whole array of trips, ideas and experiments in between.

Since forming in a pre-Ghost Box, Castles in Space and Clay Pipe world, The Leaf Library have carved out a unique place somewhere between dream pop, kosmische repetition and experimental songcraft — drawing comparisons to Stereolab, Broadcast, Yo La Tengo and the outer edges of library music, while creating a sound entirely their own.

“We’ve always loved making things outside the pressure of a ‘proper’ album,” says singer/guitarist Matt Ashton. “Singles, collaborations and compilation tracks give you permission to follow an idea wherever it wants to go. Looking back, those pieces tell their own story.”

Where their studio albums have shown the group carefully building immersive worlds, the Library Music series maps the pathways between them — the sketches, diversions and unexpected discoveries that often reveal the most about a band.

Across a lucky thirteen tracks, Library Music: volume two is a reminder that some of the best discoveries are found on the shelves you forgot to check.

[a] Flowers At The Border [4.21]
[b] The Long Dead King [7.16]
[c] Bowed Clusters [4.00]
[d] I Learned To Swim Under Water [4.32]
[e] Building Better Worlds [11.59]
[f] Harmonic Runout [0.59]
[g] Kendrick Road [3.36]
[h] Sailing Day (Wintergreen Remix) [3.59]
[i] Versatile Clouds [22.00]
[j] Bells and Thread [2.54]
[k] No Memories, No Plans [4.33]
[l] Everyone I Met Today [1.00]
[m] Tired Ghost In Orbit [9.19]

Roughly two years after the release of their initial statement of intent, debut single “Toutpartout PT2” with its hypnotic ripples, Andi Haberl and Florian Zimmer aka Bella Wakame have successfully channeled the magic of a 2024 live recording (captured at Berlin’s Donau115 & Silent Green) into their first proper studio offering. You can hear inspirations ranging from Bitchin Bajas, Jeremiah Chiu to Groupshow (Jelinek, Leichtmann, Pekler), the hypnotic, intricate battle between form and freedom (the fun of momentary formlessness) continues to unfold over the course of 10 new tracks, featuring album guest Indra Dunis (Peaking Lights). Their first single "Shades of Nambei" was very much inspired by the wonderful band Spirit Fest and their song "Nambei".

You can either shorten the reins, or you can loosen them – and give things more slack. With Bella Wakame, it’s definitely the latter. Constantly challenging each other, they’re tapping a whole new energy. Tons of different energies.

Based on the impulsive, propulsive interplay between drums/sensory percussion (Andi Haberl) and modular synthesizer (Florian Zimmer), the frenzied, free-form results take listeners into completely new dimensions – sonic worlds that don’t really sound anything like their other musical outlets (The Notwist, SUN, Saroos, Driftmachine etc.).

Whereas most bands tend to notoriously overthink names/monikers, these guys obviously only care about the ecstatic push-and-pull that occurs once their instruments meet and overlap: it’s wildly explosive textures with a booming heart. Moving restlessly between motorik club, electro-acoustic jazz experiments, ambient excursions, and fast-paced instrumental anthems that seem to explode at the seams, one can immediately tell how much they enjoy the newfound freedom, the turbulent encounters born on the spur of the moment.

It’s all about a quick-paced exchange of friendly blows, a chasing of tails into ever-new musical terrains. Relying on just enough form for that wildness to blossom within, their just-in-time dashes continually unfold, refold, return, grow bigger – and leave you startled.

The works of Kansanturvamusiikkikomissio, the predecessor of Radiopuhelimet, reissued on vinyl in September Kansanturvamusiikkikomissio—better known as KTMK—was a hardcore punk band from Oulu, founded in the fall of 1983 by guitarist Jarno Mällinen, drummer Jyrki Raatikainen, bassist Pekka Salonsaari, and vocalist Antti Penttilä. The band managed to only play a handful of shows before their first five songs were released in the fall of 1984 on the praised Finnish Hardcore compilation Yalta Hi-Life, released by Barabbas Records. In the spring of 1985, KTMK released their now-classic album 666, which led to a breakthrough in the Finnish hardcore punk scene, even though the band didn’t really feel they belonged there. The album was the band’s first and ultimately their last, full-length record. Svart is now bringing this Finnish hardcore classic back to the turntables on a limited edition of 666 copies, completed with a insert. The band’s final concert took place at Mimmiteekki in Muhos, Finland on March 1st, 1986. Just a few weeks later, Mällinen, Raatikainen, and Kangas formed Radiopuhelimet, who have also played some concerts consisting entirely of KTMK songs during their career. One of these shows took place on February 18th, 2006, at the Vastavirta club in Tampere, Finland and was later released on DVD that same year under the title Radiopuhelimet Plays Kansanturvamusiikkikomissio.

The works of Kansanturvamusiikkikomissio, the predecessor of Radiopuhelimet, reissued on vinyl in September Kansanturvamusiikkikomissio—better known as KTMK—was a hardcore punk band from Oulu, founded in the fall of 1983 by guitarist Jarno Mällinen, drummer Jyrki Raatikainen, bassist Pekka Salonsaari, and vocalist Antti Penttilä. The band managed to only play a handful of shows before their first five songs were released in the fall of 1984 on the praised Finnish Hardcore compilation Yalta Hi-Life, released by Barabbas Records. After the 1985 debut album 666, internal conflicts within the band began to drive Kansanturvamusiikkikomissio into a dead end, which was resolved by bringing in Jukka Kangas as the second guitarist. Spurred by this renewed enthusiasm, KTMK recorded a six-song EP titled Seitsemäs pasuuna in early 1986 for Dekadenz’s Fuck label, featuring the underground hits Jeesus oli venäläinen kantoraketti and Boogie-mies. Now reissued for the first time ever, the EP includes five KTMK tracks originally released on the Yalta Hi-Life compilation as bonus material. The band’s final concert took place at Mimmiteekki in Muhos, Finland on March 1st, 1986. Just a few weeks later, Mällinen, Raatikainen, and Kangas formed Radiopuhelimet, who have also played some concerts consisting entirely of KTMK songs during their career. One of these shows took place on February 18th, 2006, at the Vastavirta club in Tampere, Finland and was later released on DVD that same year under the title Radiopuhelimet Plays Kansanturvamusiikkikomissio.

The Version of Me You Get is a record about perspective, how life changes you, and who you are on the other side of it. Written and recorded in 2020 alongside longtime collaborator Sean McConnell, the album was born out of a rare stillness - a week spent holed up in the studio, building songs piece by piece with no outside noise and no deadline. Bowen had never had that kind of time with a record before. The result was something unhurried, deeply considered and wholly their own. Then life picked back up, and the album sat. Five years later, Bowen returned to the recordings and found something he didn't expect: the songs had grown. What was captured in 2020 as honest and uncertain had become something richer — shaped by everything that followed, personally and professionally. The distance didn't diminish the record. It deepened it. Spanning love, struggle, redemption, and vulnerability, The Version of Me You Get didn't just capture a moment in time, it gained meaning because of what came after. These songs finally found their moment. And it turns out, the wait made them better.

Perhaps because this debut album takes its title from the 80 duplications of the original cell, Eightycuts' first album seems constructed according to an organic logic: one idea contains another, a motif divides, bifurcates, transforms.

The tracks then function like organisms in motion, traversed by passages, secret chambers, and successive metamorphoses.

Nothing remains quite identical to itself. Through these krautrock repetitions, the psychedelic experiments of Siam and Greg, sometimes joined by Frédéric D. Oberland, the group constructs songs that unfold through proliferation. Nervous drums propel the tracks forward while the guitars open up more ambiguous spaces, both abrasive and melodic. Somewhere between the urgency of punk and the slowness of trance.

"The grass is greener_ elsewhere_" Brain Damage told us with their debut album, released in 2002. Yet here, they've reached full maturity. Rarely has a "made in France" dub album strayed so far from the Jamaican model while still harboring, in every detail, so many references and tributes to the inventors of the style (King Tubby / Lee Perry), as well as to many of the key figures in its evolution (Tikiman / Rhythm & Sound, Dub Syndicate, etc.). The recording studio, 7/11 Laboratory, is used here as a true musical instrument. The optimal use of three-dimensional stereo effects will immerse the listener in soundscapes ranging from classic space echoes and Mont Blanc tunnel-style reverberations to crackles, electronic interference, exogenous samples, and other parasitic noises coming straight from Babylon. For this album, continuing in the vein of his previous collaborations with the international dub scene (Zion Train, Alpha & Omega, Disciples, Spectre, Lab°_), Brain Damage traveled to London to record two tracks at Conscious Sounds Studio with Jamaican-born singer Tena Stelin. With the melancholic "Spirit World," one is reminded of the fruitful collaborations between Massive Attack and Horace Andy, while on "Genetic Weapon," the tone becomes more overtly assertive. Two vocal tracks, then, woven into these ten compositions, where the emotional moods and atmospheres will shift with each listen. "Always Greener (On the Other Side)" emerges as the manifesto of music conceived as cinema for the ear...

Life Creates Itself is the new album by Bill Baird, releasing September 25th, 2026 on Royal Oakie Records. After years of restless wandering that took him from the Bay Area to India to Abbey Road and back again, Baird has returned home to San Antonio, Texas. Inspired by Lone Star legends Doug Sahm and Roky Erickson, the album inhabits a world where outsider country, avant-garde pop, and psychedelic folk dissolve into one.


Produced by longtime collaborator Jasper Leach (Tony Molina, Color Green) and mastered by indie-rock legend KRAMER (Galaxie 500, Daniel Johnston, Will Oldham), Life Creates Itself was recorded at Sear Sound in New York City in a single remarkable day — fitting for an album as indebted to Arthur Russell and Captain Beefheart as it is to Sir Douglas Quintet and Townes Van Zandt. The sessions brought together a constellation of collaborators around Baird and Leach, including Pedrum Siadatian (Allah-Las, PAINT), Phil Carluzzo, Austin Day, Oliver O'Haver, Jordan Johns, Michael Vattuone, Clara Kennedy, and Carluzzo’s dog Ernie.


Lead single "Yanaguana" — the original Payaya name for San Antonio, meaning either "land of many waters" or simply "where I am right now" — serves as a thesis statement for the album, a restless soul reckoning with what it means to finally come home. Meanwhile, "Karma Loan" is a fuzzy, sprawling psych track that spilled out of Baird during a deep immersion in Bach that features cello by Clara Kennedy and closes with a sound collage of spiritual gurus hawking easy paths to enlightenment. Then there's "Horse Moon" — built around pedal steel that shimmers like rays of moonlight, drifting through vignettes from a late night walk across New York City, with Pedrum Siadatian's lead guitar lending the whole thing an unhurried, dreaming quality. The night they tracked it, Baird climbed to the roof of Sear Sound and watched a full moon wash the city in a warm glow.


Baird has never sounded more at home, and Life Creates Itself may be his most cohesive record yet – a songwriter record through and through that stands apart from the rest of his discography. Royal Oakie Records is proud to release Life Creates Itself on September 25th, 2026, available on vinyl LP, CD, and digital download/streaming worldwide.

Our favorite London duo „ddwy“ are back on Public Possession with a 4 track EP titled „Tell Me, Told You“.
„Drink the real flowers“ is soft, emotional, cinematic stuff, giving hard late 90s early 2000s Trip Hop vibes. Check the B-Side for a very lush D.J. mix by „Stone“.
The title giving „Tell Me, Told You“ is peaking psychedelia, a warm, intense hug.
„Told You, Tell Me“ is orientated more towards the dancefloor and can surely create some serious ecstasy if played in the right moment.
In all this, the multiple layers of sounds intertwined with Naomi’s voice create one remarkable, organic whole that is full testament to the continuous evolution of these super talented musicians.
Dive in, fall slowly, land very gently.

Following his recent appearance on Blueprint, Mark Broom returns to the label with a unique project, revisiting the work of techno pioneer Regis. Entitled "Power Is Neutral", the release sees Broom rework a selection of seminal Regis recordings originally released on Downwards Records across the albums Gymnastics (1996), Delivered Into The Hands Of Indifference (1998) and Penetration (2001).

Known as one of the key architects of the Birmingham techno sound, Regis (Karl O'Connor) helped shape British techno through his work as co-founder of Downwards Records and a catalogue that continues to influence generations of artists.

For Mark Broom, few artists embody British rave culture quite like Regis. Drawing on source material that has long stood as a cornerstone of UK techno, Broom approaches these edits with both respect and imagination. As Regis puts it, "Mark Broom is like some modern day Bagpuss... he has fired up his techno mouseorgan and polished old relics to make them all shiny and new."

Power Is Neutral delivers six expertly crafted reinterpretations that bridge the raw energy of Regis' original works with Broom's unmistakable contemporary dancefloor sensibility, bringing these timeless tracks to a new generation of listeners.

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.

BERG AUDIO is happy to welcome back one of our favorite producers, Havantepe. In the past few years, the Turkish artist’s output has become rare, greatly increasing our excitement to finally share these masterfully crafted pieces on the label. The release includes a superb collaboration with Christopher Ledger, and a remix from one of Romania’s key artists, Cristi Cons – Artwork by Juli Jah.

For her new and most radical album »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone«, Martina Bertoni used the electronic instrument at EMS Stockholm to create four pieces that are massive in scale and incredibly intimate, sonically restrained and emotionally overwhelming—almost ambient and always demanding your full attention.

Martina Bertoni returns to Karlrecords with »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone,« her most radical album yet. The foundation for the four electroacoustic pieces was laid during a residency at Stockholm’s legendary Elektronmusikstudion (EMS) that the Berlin-based cellist and composer used to explore the curious instrument, originally designed by Halldór Úlfarsson in 2008, as an algorithmic system in order to examine tunings and the mathematical relationships between Aiming to analyse and understand their interaction beyond the composer’s control, Bertoni sought to engage more deeply with the concepts of time, tuning, and, most importantly, control. Accordingly, her four »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone« seem both massive in scale and incredibly intimate, sonically restrained and emotionally overwhelming— almost ambient and always demanding your full attention.

While the halldorophone—famously used by Hildur Guðnadóttir for her »Joker« score—roughly resembles a cello and can be played like one, it is an electronic instrument. The vibration of its strings is being picked up, amplified, and then routed through a speaker. This creates a feedback loop that becomes increasingly complex depending on how much gain is added to individual strings. Úlfarsson gave Bertoni a carte blanche for how to handle the instrument, but she stresses that she relied on »minimal interventions—some string strumming and plucking« that set the interactions of different sounds and frequencies into motion. »I decided to not approach it like a cellist would,« she explains. »Instead I used it as a kind of generative organ by turning it into a feedback machine, with tuned feedback triggering more feedback depending on the tuning, which was based on tetraphonic scales that I could apply on the four main strings as well as the sympathetic group of strings.«

Bertoni recorded the material in the EMS studio, later composing and arranging the four complex pieces in her home in Berlin, after which they were mixed and mastered by Ciaran O’Shea. While this can be considered a compositional abstraction process, traces of her concrete work as a performer are firmly ingrained in the music. »The halldorophone doesn’t have a line output, just a double set of speakers, which is why I recorded all sounds with two microphones in the EMS studio,« she explains. »That’s why there’s plenty of breathing sounds here and there—label owner Thomas Herbst and I jokingly refer to the album as my ›chamber music record‹.« And indeed, there is a striking sense of intimacy to these four pieces throughout which individual sounds, harmonic frequencies, and even subtle rhythmic figures seem to move both on their own accord but also according to a underlying vision that steers their interplay.

Indeed, »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone« is an album built on and marked by contrasts. The soothing polylogue of single sounds in the higher register on opener »Omen in G« is counterpointed by massive bass drones, while the second piece, »Nominal in D,« plays a cunning game of repetition and difference by combining thick textures with all kinds of rhythmic elements. »Fades in C«—the longest of the four pieces, clocking in at 17 minutes—unlocks the emotional potentials of the sonic qualities of the halldorophone, sounding at once serene and anthemic, and »Organon in D« closes the album by underscoring how Bertoni’s unconventional approach allows her to seamlessly transform simple, quiet tones into complex, towering walls of sound.

The eighth helping of these Perro Bueno Edits is as delicious as Kinder Buenos (we have kids, don't judge us). Once again it is an anonymous affair from the in-house team, whoever that may be, and this one opens with 'SDBO', which is a new flip of, we're told, a "rare African cover version of a much-loved disco classic". It has a perfect mix of disco glam and Afro earthiness with soaring melodies and funk drums that can't fail to get you locked in. 'LEHA' on the B-side is another Afro-funk gem that is rebuilt with layers of chunky percussion and drums, interplay between male and female vocals and fat bass that anchors the whole thing perfectly.

San Francisco’s 21 st century take on disco has long tended towards the cosmic and
psychedelic, a reflection of the Bay Area’s long association with trippy, mind-altering music.
Over the years, Leng Records has periodically dived into these fertile waters, delivering
inspired slabs of cosmic-minded and dub-flecked excellence from 40 Thieves and, more
recently, Marshall Watson and Cole Odin.


It’s to Watson, a long-serving producer and sound designer whose work has previously
appeared on labels including Sprechen, Shades of Sound, Seven Villas, Italians Do It Better, Highpoint Lowlife and NuNorthern Soul, that Leng has turned this time around. It marks his first solo appearance on the imprint and lands two years on from his inspired Odin collaboration, Voyager. ‘Little Monster’ is Watson at his most potent, club-focused best. Built around rock-solid
disco drums and a deliciously dubby, low-slung bassline, the track slowly builds via waves of intergalactic electronics, spaced-out and echoing vocal samples, audible nods to cosmic rock and bursts of starry synth melodies. Thickening and increasing in effects-laden intoxication as it progresses, ‘Little Monster’ not only lives up to its name but also cements Watson’s growing reputation as one of 21st century cosmic disco’s most distinctive talents.


Fittingly, the accompanying remix comes from Leng regulars and fellow San Francisco
residents 40 Thieves. Delivering a genuinely epic, near nine-minute excursion, the veteran
collective drag Watson’s inspired original mix further towards Daniele Baldelli style dub
disco-meets-Afro-cosmic territory. Expect bolder, funkier bass, echoing synth motifs, eyes-
closed electric guitar solos, echoing synth snippets and wild, sustained organ chords. It’s
cosmic disco in dub… and the perfect accompaniment to Watson’s future cosmic disco
classic.

Remastered limited edition double vinyl with double-sided screenprinted poster-cover (sleeve folds out to be one huge poster). A real collectors item!

When Off Off came out around June 1984, one couldn’t speak of an independent music scene in Portugal. Warm Records’ vague existence didn’t have any impact and Dansa do Som’s inaugural release appeared only in December. 10 years after the revolution, after two IMF interventions, a lot of political instability (not to say turmoil, in the first couple of years) and the natural excesses of a sudden burst of freedom, the Portuguese consumer had more choices but a generally poor standard of living. There was no entrepreneurial culture and serious second thoughts about investing private money in risky ventures.

After many complaints about the whole music scene (institutions, critics and record label executives, popular and classical music alike), something that would continue well beyond the end of the decade, Telectu decided to finance, record, produce, release and sell an album with complete independence from outside structures. Their karmic reward was profit. According to Vítor Rua, Off Off was the only album fully payed by the duo and the only one that really payed off. Not an easy accomplishment for a double LP housed in a large (also double-sided) screenprint with complicated cuts and folds. The artwork was conceived by António Palolo, a friend and multidisciplinary artist. It was based on a collage of heavily saturated and xeroxed polaroids framed in shocking pink and green. Palolo was considered the third member of Telectu, regularly producing slides, video and other visual support for their shows. The inspiration for the type of cover came from GRM’s Gramme series.

Off Off is divided in four distinct sides, each one corresponding to a “theme” or “function” related to Telectu’s manifold artistic interests and interactions. The titles are also gateways to influences and a small portion of Portuguese cultural life:

- Side 1 / “Diagonale” is dedicated to Egídio Álvaro, art critic and gallery director (he opened Diagonale in Paris). Performance art was arguably his main artistic concern over the years, so the music on this side is suggested for use by one or more performers in live or playback situations. The three tracks segue into each other, linked by a synth arpeggio much in the same way as Telectu’s previous “Belzebu” álbum (1983);

- Side 2 / “Anarké” is dedicated to the composer Filipe Pires, one of Jorge Lima Barreto’s recurring invocations when asked about worthwhile contemporary music in Portugal. It is subtitled “concert music”, proposing «a new form of listening». Three tracks also, and these are separated by “clap interludes”, which basically consisted in the following: JLB and VR each had a pair of headphones on, and they clapped their hands according to the rhythm of the music each one was listening. Both musicians were interacting with a different Steve Reich piece: Vítor with “Music for Mallet Instruments”, Jorge with “Six Pianos”. The result is disjointed clapping, an awkwardly deliberate celebration of their own music. Telectu applauded themselves.

- Side 3 / “Cornucópia” is subtitled “music for theatre” and dedicated to Luís Miguel Cintra and Luís Lima Barreto (JLB’s brother), both connected to the Cornucópia theatre company. The side consists of several short pieces previously used as interludes in the Cornucópia staging of “Mariana Espera Casamento” (1983). Field recordings, mood pieces, ambience and a numeric poem (“Soneto Soma 14x”, by E.M. de Melo e Castro) read by João Perry, a quite well-known stage actor. His voice is treated with a flanger effect;

- Side 4 / “Palolo” is “video music”. It’s a one-take mix recorded from cassette sources (Telectu studio experiences) and done live while watching António Palolo’s Om film (1978) projected on the living room wall. It’s a deep, immersive, quasi-mystical 20-minute piece perfectly suiting the meditative, abstract, fluid images created by Palolo by mixing paint and water inside a bathtub. One imagines the Cosmos, hardly suspecting the technique. The film is 90 minutes long, so the music on the LP is of course edited.

The six titles on sides 1 and 2 evoke demons, all of them with conflicting symbolism, since it varies from culture to culture, religion to religion. No explanation is given and Vítor Rua has no idea where this imagery comes from. During virtually the whole stretch of the 1980s, Jorge was the one in charge of titles and concepts, and Vítor didn’t bother too much even reading the liner notes :) In any case, when you synchronize the listening experience with the imagery, a powerful impression emerges, a feeling of being in the presence of these entities while placing yourself inside the sonic narrative.

Off Off is undoubtedly a seminal album in the history of electronic music, as much Heldon as Fripp & Eno, jazz and American minimalism, cosmic out-thereness, mantric miniatures. Telectu at the height of their powers, still very early on, delivering an album-manifesto advocating intermedia art and the fierce independence of Portuguese musicians «from the scum of capitalist music industry monopolies. It’s a path to follow, albeit one that requires enduring hardships and retaliation from music industry gangsters.» Despite a few journalists deemed «capable of being free», the media are «enslaved by the dominant and fascist imbecility of the speculators of light music.» Off Off is addressed to those journalists «and to an audience angry at the cultural misery imposed upon us ..., certain that this music will open new horizons of musical pleasure in the conception of Portuguese avant-garde music, and in the open consciousness of us all. OFF OFF repeats Freedom.»

Those two words are a direct lift from Alberto Arbasino’s 1968 book Off Off, the basis of which is a critical analysis of Theodor Adorno’s and Dwight MacDonald’s ideas concerning the stratification of culture in different levels (high, mid and low) and the pervasiveness of mass culture in the form of a culture industry. In very simplistic terms, and that is precisely the point that inspired Jorge, Arbasino argued that it was possible and desirable to effect a revolution from below, cultivating alternative circuits completely cut-off from what he termed the in-in reality. Telectu’s record was a deliberate demonstration that it could be done, displaying Freedom in the face of all the gatekeepers and other human obstacles.

Archimboldos have clawed their way out of the starcaves of their primordial past and into the tranquil light of a coral garden on their third full length album, Crusta Arcana, a gumbo stewpot of transcendent electronica suffused with tribal rhythms and liquid ambience. Across a stereo field smeared with tolling bells, post-industrial folk percussion, and tinkling keys, Archimboldos soundtrack a science fictional journey, not into the depths of space, but deep beneath the waves.

In the past the Chilean duo of Nicolás Carcavilla and Felipe Crocco have described their music as “liminal shrimp folk.” Here they continue this strange exploration when they visit the court of the prawns, producing stately electronic chamber orchestrations. Perhaps these are the frequencies used for ritual dream initiation into the mystery schools of drowned Atlantis. Weaving an ancient sacred science, Archimboldos take listeners on a mystic vovage into their singular crustacean mythology, the crusta of their hidden arcana.

Archimbolodos are masters of conjoining cyclonic and centrifugal lines of electricity into spellbinding incantations. These deep-sea transmissions envelope the listener into aquamarine forcefields that are as hallucinatory as they are hypnotic. Navigating these strange fantasias could lead one to getting lost at sea, but the work is buoyed by the somnolent melodies of lonely harpsichords and swelling synth pads whose sustained tones reach towards distant shores. Sailing across a vast expanse of oceanic harmonies and percolating percussion, these pieces are as precise as the hand of a sailor on the rudder, moving with the tide.

Casting their net wide across eight pieces, Archimboldos have made a big catch. From the emotive electronic counterpoint found on “Bursting Armor” to the blocks of seaweed tangled sonic sculpture trawled up from the ocean floor on “Aphelion IX.” Other songs are like samples of biological ambience collected from luminous tide pools: resplendent tones placed into a Petri dish of sound, swirled, cultured and fermented until it undulates with the rhythmic movement of microscopic lifeforms. Alternating between rippling minimalist sonority and pounding, progressive, synth-heavy entrancement, Crusta Arcana charts its own idiosyncratic itinerary of instrumental invention.

All the while light is down streaming from the heavens to pierce the waters, here calm, there choppy. The intrepid musical captains commanding Archimboldos have laid a course for new archipelagos of the imagination, guided by heavenly constellations.

-Justin Patrick Moore, author of The Radio Phonics Laboratory, Telecommunications, Speech Synthesis and the Birth of Electronic Music

There was an immediate buzz surrounding This Is What I Know About Being Gigantic, the 2001 debut EP by Seattle indie phenomenon Minus the Bear. It wasn’t the kind of viral interest that translated into a string of sold-out tour dates, but it meant that the tuned-in crowd eagerly anticipated their next move. To help stir up the excitement for their first proper full-length, the band followed up Gigantic with a promo CD featuring two tracks from their upcoming album, a short instrumental interlude, an exclusive new song, and a demo version of another album track. Packaged in a cardboard slipcase, it was the kind of cheaply manufactured promotional item that could be handed out for free at shows or thrown in as a bonus in online orders—a relic of the final years of the CD age before the advent of the iPod and mp3. The sampler CD was christened Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them in a nod to the upcoming album Highly Refined Pirates.

While these kinds of promotional items typically had an ephemeral existence, filed away in some neglected binder of CDs or tossed out during one of the many apartment-to-apartment moves of the band’s principal demographic of urban twentysomethings, Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them had a curiously persistent presence. Perhaps it was because it was packaged more like a proper EP than a sampler. It certainly helped that it was a free release, meaning anyone who came to a show likely walked away from the evening with the cardboard slipcase tucked in their jacket pocket. It’s also noteworthy that the EP showcased three songs from the back half of Highly Refined Pirates rather than the album’s live staples and fan favorites from side A. Whatever the combination of factors at play, “YAR!” took on a life of its own and was ultimately re-packaged in a jewel case and sold as a proper EP in 2004 in the wake of Highly Refined Pirates’ success. And now in 2026, it’s getting its first proper release on vinyl.

Opening with the driving beat, chirping guitars, and funky low-end of “Spritz!!! Spritz!!!,” Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them quickly cements Minus the Bear’s foundation of sophisticated revelry, a spirit further emphasized in the Highly Refined Pirates title choice. Part of the Bear’s lore involves them playing their first show three days after 9/11, and just as New York City’s indie rock scene took a sharp turn towards nightclub debauchery and a rejection of ‘90s rock’s dour fatalism in the wake of the World Trade Center tragedy, so did the Bear turn away from the Seattle’s scene’s penchant for gloom and angst towards a cerebral after-hours pop sound. The inclusion of “Women We Haven’t Met Yet” helped elevate what could have otherwise been seen as an album deep cut into a lead track. The fact that these first two songs essentially served as preview singles over future Pirates hits like “Monkey!!!Knife!!!Fight!!!” and “Absinthe Party At The Fly Honey Warehouse” speaks to the high quality of every song the band cranked out in their early years. The EP’s exclusive track “Drop It Like It’s Hot” presaged Snoop Dogg’s mega-hit single of the same name by two years, but whereas Snoop leaned into restrained minimalism, the Bear unleashes some of their fiercest work here, building off of interwoven riffs and electronic layers to a climax of stabbing guitars and hollered vocals. Much like Nirvana’s Hormoaning EP, Minus the Bear’s Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them was initially more of a marketing gimmick than a proper release, but given the popularity of the pivotal studio albums that stemmed from the same recording sessions, these extended plays serve as compelling companion pieces that have earned a special spot in their respective fanbases’ hearts. Suicide Squeeze is proud to offer Bands Like It When You Yell “YAR!” At Them on vinyl on September 18, 2026, nearly 25 years after the band’s first show.

Remastered for vinyl by Bernie Grundman with lacquers cut at 45rpm, this limited edition pressing of 1000 copies on Puget Sound-colored vinyl helps document and preserve the exciting early years of one of American indie rock’s most beloved acts.