As one of the most enigmatic figures of the 1970's Italian soundtrack and library music network Emma De Angelis and her short recording career provides thirsty fans of speedball psychedelic rock and drum heavy instrumental funk with a tight discography rivalling many of the long-standing bastions of the otherwise male-orientated business. * Strictly limited to 1000 copies.*
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Born in Rocca di Papa, near Rome, into a flourishing musical environment Emma was the younger sister of future award-winning composers Guido And Maurizio De Angelis, a duo, who under names like Oliver Onions and Dream Bags, would write chart-topping lyrical theme tunes for a wide range of Italian crime, Giallo and Spaghetti Western films featured alongside full scores by Ennio Morricone and the Magnetic System composers (Bixio Frizzi Tempera).
With encouragement from her brothers, Emma, who would also write music under the pseudonym of Juniper, would record a tight clutch of solo-penned material and seldom credited studio contributions to Guido And Maurizio's film commissions, such as the score for Giuliano Carnimeo's Simone e Matteo: Un gioco da ragazzi (aka Convoy Buddies). While simultaneously pursuing a career as an illustrator and set designer the De Angelis family contacts would lead Emma to the offices of Romano Di Bari, whose up-and-coming Flirt label was finding success providing custom built mood music for use in TV and film. Alongside important composers like Alessandro Alessandroni, Gerardo Iacoucci and A. R. Luciani, the young Emma Di Angelis would record a small number of tracks for a compilation called Underground Mood (credited in the small print to E De Angelis - not to be confused with Italian singer Edoardo De Angelis). It is from this rare LP that the record you are now holding is compiled. Within the Flirt family of labels Emma De Angelis would also share schedules with other important female composers such as Daniela Casa and Giulia Kema' De Mutiis - both of whom have appeared on dedicated Finders Keepers releases.
The tracks on this record provide us with a rare glimpse into Emma De Angelis' short musical career before she became a full-time visual artist. With an unknown personnel or studio date it is easy to speculate a potential family jam in Piero Umiliani's Sound Workshop studio in 1972. One only has to take a listen to Guido And Maurizio's instrumental theme Gangster Story from Enzo G. Castellari's 1973 thriller High Crime (which later appeared on Tarantino's Death Proof soundtrack) or the trippy title theme to Paolo Poeti's kinky 1976 drama Inhibition to spot the family resemblance
King Tubby's and Channel One were two of the great studios that produced so many of the great reggae rhythms in Kingston.Jamaica find themselves here for one night only battling for the trophy.
So who would be better placed to compare the Dub Soundclash from the two great studios then Bunny Lee himself.
Throwing rhythms over at Channel One who had enlisted the great DJ Jah Stitch to return the fire.
So sit back and enjoy two great institutions of the Reggae sound ,battling it out for sumpremacy.
The winner...we will leave that decision up to the listener.
But in this Dub Soundclash there is no loser...
All killer..No filler...Enjoy
out of Stock
Last delivered 10 years ago available to reorder, subject to availability
In celebration of 20+ years since their classic debut Uptown Saturday Night, Bronx duo Camp Lo present a special double-album 2XLP with On The Way Uptown & The Get Down Brothers. On The Way Uptown features a collection of demos and unreleased songs made between 94' - 95', leading to their official debut in early 1997. Aside from the early versions of their hits Luchini (AKA This Is It),' Sparkle,' Black Connection,' and Coolie High', other standouts include World Heist', Coolie High Is Life' & A Piece of the Action'.
On The Get Down Brothers, Camp Lo completely pivot away from their 90's nostalgia into a much more futuristic and experimental sound. Although the production is different, their signature tongue-twisting and hype flows remain, creating a unique and seamless fusion packed into 10 dynamic tracks.
Bell Gardens combines the musical visions of Kenneth James Gibson (formerly of Furry Things, now recording as
*Bell Gardens' origins began arguably as more of an experiment than the duo's current 'experimental' projects - McBride's drone- and string-laden ambient symphonies, and Gibson's ventures in dub and minimalist techno - as they sought to manifest their mutual reverence for folk, psychedelia and chamber pop in a traditional band structure without cannibalising any particular past genre. Bell Gardens' sound is less reliant on effects and studio trickery than the pairs' independent guises, laying bare as it does vocals and live instruments with emotional sincerity, and presenting songs imbued with an almost pastoral or gospel simplicity and timelessness.
Slow Dawns for Lost Conclusions was again recorded mostly at home studios, but additionally the band made use of a friend's desert cabin in Wonder Valley, California, and it seems this willingness to retreat from the city has lent an expansiveness to the tracks, in particular the spacious, ceremonial 'Silent Prayer' (written in a snowbound mountain cabin in Idyllwild, C.A.) and the crepuscular 'She's Stuck in an Endless Loop of Her Decline' (mapped out under the stars in the desert).
While the addition of strings (contributed by Lauren Chipman of The Rentals and The Section Quartet) and trumpet (Stewart Cole of Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros) provides a double rainbow of tonal textures throughout, the nine tracks of Slow Dawns for Lost Conclusions are united by an understated elegance belying the newly expanded, communal effort in the studio: each instrument earns its place, nothing is overwrought or conspicuous. Moreover, it is McBride and Gibson's artistry in building stirring soundscapes from the barest of materials in their other guises that lends such assurance and sophistication to these arrangements.
The band is a result of the complimentary cross-pollination of Gibson and McBride's musical tastes - borne from a late-night conversation between the two that grew wings - and it is the universality of the sentiments and their restrained, reflective approach to writing and recording that allows the music to simultaneously straddle the past and the present. The music avoids pastiche, its pedal steel, sleigh bells and harmonies giving a nod to the ghosts of musical genres past, but never overriding or distracting from the emotional content of the sum of its parts.
The album ends with the glorious 'Take Us Away' - one of the first demos Gibson gave McBride when he was on tour with Stars of the Lid - neatly bringing their work to date full circle and exemplifying the band's mindfulness of their own serendipitous beginnings: the dawning of an auspicious, unique musical force.
Bell Gardens - Take Us Away -
Harmonies alert!! Actually, this is rather lovely. Slow-tempo, just the right side of 'twee' and packed full of strings, as if Air and Midlake had been taking balloon trips over the mid-West and sprinkling good-vibes dust across the land. From L.A. and subconsciously plugged into the '60s dream-pop scene, taking in a little bit of Mercury Rev and Brendan Perry en route, stopping off at Pearls Before Swine and Big Star's house for inspiration, before getting stoned with '70s era Brian Eno and Harold Budd.
Of course everyone knows Kurt Hauenstein aka Supermax. He was one of the few Austrians to shape the sound of late-1970s disco, performing and selling records around the world. Not many know his daughters Judy and Nicola, however, and the fact that they in 1987 wrote a song that they recorded together with their father. Well, here it is: Cracy Coconuts, “Rubberdub Dance” – a true Hauenstein family affair. We are proud to re-release this super rare 7” that proves, once and for all, that Austrians can excel at digi-dub. Timelessly tropical and beautifully bouncy, its vibe is quite different from the iconic Supermax productions. Here, Judy and Nicola’s sweet yet confident vocals replace the moustache-driven sotto voce singing that we love Supermax for. The result is oh-so-catchy and bound to be a hit.
HIKARIGASASHIKOMU translates as ‘Light Shines In’, a Japanese phrase conveying a sense of hope in a difficult place. Opening new creative possibilities for Foodman, this astonishing album is an introspective yet hyperactive body of work, representing the clarity and light found after a period of self-exploration. While this is a deeply personal record, it also captures the now-universal sound of a brain stretched between 500 open tabs, multitasking into oblivion in a world in which attention deficit is a global media environment, not merely a privatized psychological malaise. Focusing more on the use of voice, the album incorporates Foodman’s own looped vocals, singing elements of Japanese children’s songs and playground rhymes, and his everyday thoughts. Despite its charm and innocence, this soundworld leaps around manically, fractures and dissolves. Foodman’s voice repeats, disassembles, speeds up and down and is bounced around deliriously, as sound elements call and respond around him. Structurally and vocally, influences are drawn from footwork, ghetto house, and baile funk, all of which are maximally abstracted into bursts of spiralling psychedelic effects.
Phara returns with a second project under his In Glass alias. In 'Scratching the Surface', we're light years away from the heavier, more instructive dance records that have become synonymous with Phara's style. In this EP, the Belgian artist reaffirms his celestial, delicate sound in four tracks that delve further deeper into the emotional soundscape proposed in the first EP.
'Sally' begins the project with the most dance floor oriented of the four tracks, proposing an intoxicating blend of styles that bloom throughout its six minutes. Soft pads and bright keys twinkle along a cradling rhythm as In Glass delivers a truly musical piece that sifts through memories. Percussion is then taken out of the equation as 'All Things (424 Version)' comes and lands softly on the center stage. Lush, ambient waves come lapping at the shore of 'Scratching the Surface', describing nothing but space and serenity - a breath from everything. The dreamy tone of 'All Things' oscillates along reassuringly into the B side, keeping the tempo low and the sound design organic. Here, we step into In Glass's world of dub techno and adjacent sounds that defined his first record last year. 'Plateau' rises slowly from the wax with a round low end and suspended chords that hover high above. Opening stabs over a harmonic bassline make a head massage of a track that sways along. The raw emotion behind In Glass's music is inviting, flashing by as ethereal synths open and close to install a personal, meditative experience of electronic music. The percussion remains discrete, allowing the harmonic information to wash over the listener into the last track of the EP. He concludes with 'My Idle Hands', pressing further into the dub techno sound that echoes through a cathedral of memories. Blurry shapes pass by over a more determined rhythm section, confirming the intimate nature of In Glass's music. The music wanders along, its head in the clouds but with a full heart, telling stories of being lost and finding home.
'Palle Mikkelborg (b. 1941) - a spiritual jazz legend, acclaimed composer, trumpet player and electronic music pioneer - is back in the studio recording his first solo album in more than 25 years. Working with him as a producer is Jakob Bro, with whom he has recorded the great ECM albums Returnings with Jon Christensen and Thomas Morgan, and Strands with Marilyn Mazur.
'"When Palle decided to stop touring and performing live, I suggested that we sit down together and listen through the many MiniDiscs and DAT tapes he had tucked away, hoping we might find a new direction for making music together. We went through everything - recordings of orchestras and choirs, soundscapes, and so on - material he had worked on throughout his career,” says Jakob Bro. “I can still remember the first time we said it out loud. Suddenly, it made perfect sense in my mind: a solo album. An album devoted entirely to Palle - his sound, his vision, his voice. It felt like something the world truly needed.”
'This final opus sees Palle Mikkelborg re-interpret and record his own orchestral works and two pieces by Per Nørgaard and Thomas Laub as 'meditations' on solo piano, trumpet and flugelhorn mixed with soundscapes and guest performances by longtime collaborators Helen Davis, Jakob Bro and Thomas Li.
'As a soloist his sound on trumpet and flugelhorn is both much loved and familiar after decades at the forefront of Nordic Music, but on Light one is struck by the weight Palle Mikkelborg has given his soundscapes and the grand piano. Forever curious on what's ahead, the album underlines his spiritual and ever-seeking approach to free improvisation, classical composition, choral works and experimental sound landcapes.'
We're thrilled to present a very special vinyl release that's sure to bring back some amazing memories. It's been exactly 20 years since the 2 Black scored an incredible hit in Italy and abroad with their unforgettable track "Waves of Luv" - you know, the one that takes us “in alto mare"!
To celebrate this milestone, we're releasing a commemorative vinyl that's packed with goodness. On Side A, you'll find the two most-played original versions: the Soulstatic Radio Mix and the Mattara Vs Vtraxx Extended Mix. These are the classics that made us fall in love
with the track in the first place.
But wait, there's more! Flip it over to Side B, and you'll discover three brand new, super-fresh remixes that bring "Waves of Luv" right into 2024:
This vinyl is the perfect blend of nostalgia and contemporary sound. It's a must-have for any dance music enthusiast, and it'll be the perfect addition to your summer playlists. Don't miss out on owning this piece of dance music history!
Get ready to ride the "Waves of Luv" all over again!
Put your hands together and please welcome Linda Lo to Shall Not Fade's Time is Now imprint. The LA producer/DJ's new 12" EP "Masa" drops 23rd Oct 2026 and f**k is it sick.
Linda Lo fuses* mambo, samba, and salsa with UK garage, dubstep, and club rhythms to make guaranteed rewind material that is gonna light up the dance…
* imma talk about this fuses sh*t in a minute.. First we need to get a bit philosophical. Cos rewinds and fusions aside, this EP is alive. It's part of something bigger and cyclical, without a start or an end. It is music. It was part of someone else's music before and it will be part of other people's music in the future. Right now though, it's Linda Lo's music.
Too esoteric? Let me elaborate and, let's talk about fusion. There is the fusion that is – steal a bit of genre X and culture Y, chuck it on the grid and strut about professing fusion – and then there's actual fusion: Music that is something "new" and real and genuine. Music that you end up describing excitedly as a "fusion of" things (even if it inevitably ends up doing it a disservice). Music that is simultaneously one thing and not that thing, and also something else and not that something else too. Music that is just "music" to the creator but is also part of the progression and evolution of music for others. Mala wasn't making "dubstep". Skream & Benga ended up not making Garage. Like many before and after they were making their music and Linda Lo is making her music so let's hear from her about it. Big up Linda. This is real.
Notes from Linda:
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“Like Croydon by way of Havana”
“Masa, or corn-based dough used to make tortillas and tamales, is a traditional staple food for many in Mexico and throughout LatAm. In the Maya worldview, people's flesh is made out of masa. In order to make masa, corn must be dried, nixtamalized, ground, and mixed (often by hand) to create the right textured dough. I find much of my music work is a collision and a mixing of many elements, all worked into one product. In this way, I've worked these songs, transforming raw rhythms and sub bass into hand-mixed tunes. ‘Masa - EP' presents four delicious heaters. The title track explodes with a fiery double-time dubstep groove. Mambo horn stabs bite through a bass inferno. ‘Cenote' looks down upon a subterranean pool of sound—still on the surface but impossibly deep. ‘Minifalda', pure flirt and gyration, calls in cuica and other voices from a samba bateria. Finally, claves stitch across ‘Mestiza', a fusion of blooming lush orchestration and jagged 2step rhythm.
Around 1960, my grandparents were regular dancers at the Palladium in Los Angeles: young, Mexican, and falling in love to dance music, specifically big band mambo. My mom, consequently, is a fantastic dancer, and her mambo collection along with my dad's exotica records formed the base of my own vinyl collection. When I first discovered garage and dubstep, there was something indescribably familiar to me, something mambo-like about the syncopated offbeat hits and drama. Later, as I began stitching together mambo claves and 2step drums, I assumed I was trying out something totally new. The farther I go, the more I see that I was wrong.
Dubstep, garage and jungle share a parental lineage back to dub reggae, originating from Jamaica. Mambo hails from Cuba, and sister genres of salsa to NYC & PR, and bachata and meringue to the Dominican Republic. Yet, these musical genres of the Caribbean have not developed in isolation. Reggae, mambo, dancehall, salsa, even son jarocho from Veracrúz, Mexico (where my family is from), all developed together, influencing each other fundamentally. Ultimately, all musics of the Caribbean have come from West African polyrhythmic musical heritages. Garage, mambo, dubstep, and salsa are points in time along one musical continuum.
I feel very honored to be a selector working in Los Angeles (and elsewhere!). I hope I can share some music for the next generation of young people to fall in love to. "
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I'm moved by what Linda writes here. #1 Doing what you love, and finding you are part of something bigger. Creating for yourself freely and hoping to inspire others with healthy amounts of care, humility, freedom, self awareness and enjoyment. (It is inspiring and I'm honoured we are now a part of sharing Linda's music). #2 There's something wonderful about finding connection and a sense of place. A place physical, spiritual and in time. Music can help us all find connection and be part of a place. Wheel it up wherever you are.
Joe Fujinoki centered the compositions of his latest album Glass Torso round the idea of the fragility of the human body. Fujinoki described the narrative thread of the album as that of “holding the shape of a human body as if it might shatter like glass”. The precariousness of the body, the essence of the body as defined by Fujinoki as the torso, and the object relations between the boundaries of dialectical exercises pack themselves into his creative process.
Fujinoki recorded Glass Torso exclusively with analog synthesizers, stumbling in and out of structural loops to find space for accidental discoveries. The ten pieces of recorded material feel somewhere on the edge of typified form, feeling like a vascular system pumping in and out its undulating liquidities. Maybe this is the hollowed space held together by Fujinoki’s notion of the torso where you hear a microscopic world, dubby and generative. Fujinoki is adept at organizing this realm of subtle sound sources, giving proper considerations of shared tonal space. Seemingly, this handling of the precarity of sonic material elucidates Fujinoki’s mature attention to detail.
Ambient music genre tropes often affirm the listeners vessel for escape and dissociation. It provides an intoxicating allure by respite from an overwhelming exterior reality far outside the listeners controls. Here this space becomes apolitical, or its protest vocabulary softer and subtle. Fujinoki does not aim to tackle hyperobject topics on how to course correct the world, but he does something increasingly rarer to come across. On Glass Torso an alternative space is created not as shelter, but as a meditation on negotiation and compromise. This twenty eight minutes of audio lays down a foundation for imagination, for imagining how to negotiate the fragility of the self. Zoomed out, the implications of his negotiative sonics can be a playground for broader reflections on distributive care and attention.
Fujinoki says he feels “alert” to his physicality and placement in the world amidst vast digital cultures creating impositions on him and his surroundings. On Glass Torso he creates a concretized space on a vinyl record, where the virtual and the tangible antagonize one another that create the spectacle of the listening experience. This spectacle is a soft one, a considered one, and an utmost enjoyable one. Fujinoki juggles opposing forces brilliantly, and formulates an exquisite palette of soft passing music so he can also help the listener with the exquisite burden of their own Glass Torso.”
Blume presents two pieces composed in 1970 by the American pianist and composer David Tudor (1926-1996), one of electronic music's most important pioneers, for the Pepsi-Cola Pavilion, a unique artist-designed and programmed space for Expo '70 in Osaka, Japan, created by Experiments in Art and Technology (E.A.T.). Pepsibird and Anima Pepsi deploy electronic technology as a means to experience sound in ways that are anything but matter of fact, rendering liberated environments within and through which one might democratically express and commune. Viewed through the lens of what was, is, and might have been, they offer the tools for time travel: an unmediated encounter with radical, optimistic ideas that gave way to the complex cultural landscape of our time.
Initially trained on organ and then piano, Tudor emerged as a leading figure within New York's musical vanguard after his groundbreaking 1950 performance of Stefan Wolpe's Battle Piece and the American premiere of Pierre Boulez's Second Sonata. Within less than a year he had joined the Merce Cunningham Dance Company as its accompanist, a role he kept until his death, and began one of his most lasting creative relationships with John Cage, who would state that his entire output between 1951 and the end of the 1960s was written with Tudor in mind. Christian Wolff, Earle Brown, Morton Feldman, Sylvano Bussotti, Mauricio Kagel, and Karlheinz Stockhausen all wrote works for him during the 1950s and '60s. Through indeterminacy and chance-based methods, Tudor was noted for radically intervening with the works he played, often making them entirely his own, and it was this same singularity of vision that led him to gradually abandon the piano in favor of electronic process, through which he began working as a composer in his own right.
His engagement with electronics dates to the early 1950s and Cage's Project for Music for Magnetic Tape. By the following decade the pair had moved to live electronics, with Tudor rendering works like Cartridge Music and Variations II through contact microphones and complex systems of feedback and amplification. Before modular synthesizers existed, he designed and built his own electronics, often with engineers from Bell Laboratories, producing dozens of unique instruments and processing tools that helped lay the groundwork for the technological needs embraced by most electronic musicians ever since. A clear marker of his emergence as a composer came in 1966 with 9 Evenings: Theatre and Engineering, where he premiered Bandoneon! (a combine), turning the cavernous performance space into a feedback instrument and a total environment. The event led directly to the founding of E.A.T. the following year by the engineers Billy Klüver and Fred Waldhauer, alongside Robert Rauschenberg and Robert Whitman.
Among the most ambitious of E.A.T.'s projects was the Pepsi-Cola Pavilion, for which Tudor composed four pieces between March and April 1970: Pepsibird, Anima Pepsi, Pepscillator, and Microphone. Together with Forrest "Frosty" Myers, Robert Whitman, the sculptor and filmmaker Robert Breer, and the architect John Pearce, he was tasked with the design and function of the building: a 120-foot diameter steel and polyvinyl dome, shrouded in mist and fog and lit in the evenings by a square of intense blue-white xenon light. Tudor worked with Gordon Mumma and Fred Waldhauer on a unique sound system capable of processing and variable distribution through 37 speakers, controlled both by automated means and by the performer, and with Lowell Cross on a sound-activated laser deflection system inside the pavilion's mirrored performance hall.
Both pieces are an advanced form of musique concrète: libraries of tape recordings, live mixed and processed through the pavilion's sound console and distributed through 8 channels of stationary and rotating patterns designated by Tudor's instructions (small circle, great circle, large rhomboid, spiral, small triangles, small ovals). Pepsibird is focused upon a physical interiority, its source tapes being recordings of the brain wave activity of humans and animals: cat's eye, nerve firing, bats, EKG, alpha waves, a modified nightjar. Recorded in situ in 1970 and mixed down to stereo, it retains a striking sense of the space and ambience that Tudor achieved in performance. For more than eighteen minutes he merges subtle textures and pulses, at times resembling birdsong, within a blanket of vast, resonant ambience of subaquatic density, foreshadowing the relationship to the natural world of later works like Rainforest IV (1973).
Anima Pepsi is centered on the exterior: field recordings that Tudor made of animal and insect sounds (mosquitoes in a jar, a fly on flypaper, a wasp chewing, a beetle walking) and a mix of human and animal sounds that he called the "funny tape". Where Pepsibird deploys interior sounds in ways that allude to the natural world, Anima Pepsi pushes the sounds of nature and humanity toward the otherworldly through the clear presence of electronic sounds and processing, moulding detailed, pointillistic patterns of abstract sonority into gauzy blankets of ambience and space.
The collaboration did not last: less than a month after the opening, Pepsi withdrew its support, fired E.A.T., and disregarded Tudor's tapes, which according to accounts had to be smuggled out by staff, playing its own soundtrack in the pavilion for the rest of the Expo. Heard today, Pepsibird and Anima Pepsi anticipate many territories of later electroacoustic practice, from field recording to live processing, while the terms on which they were made, radically unpredictable, indeterminate, and experimental to the core, reconfigure what we've come to expect from electronic process, making one wonder if the past was ahead. Issued by Blume in a highly limited vinyl edition of 300 copies on red vinyl, with a 20-page LP-size booklet containing You Nakai's essay and newly commissioned liner notes by Bradford Bailey.
IRST ALBUM IN 10 YEARS.
TOURING WITH TROPICAL FUCK STORM IN NOVEMBER (DATES BELOW).
PRODUCED BY DAN LUSCOMBE (THE DRONES) WHO IS ALSO PART OF THE LIVE BAND.
PREVIOUS ALBUMS ON HARDLY ART/SUB POP AND REMOTE CONTROL.
VERY LIMITED BLACK VINYL AND INDIES ONLY PINK VINYL . NON-RETURNABLE.
‘Jarrod Quarrell, creator of Lost Animal, is one of the most underrated songwriters in Australia and one of our all-time favourites. He creates poetic expressions. His work is very interesting in a highly original way and richly emotional. The songs reveal themselves more over many listens and always feel fresh. His powerful, beautiful, transformative, and unforgettable songs possess the vast depth of the human spirit.’ - GIMMIE GIMMIE GIMMIE ZINE
‘Quarrell has developed a collaged techne that embodies a heart-on-sleeve attitude. Lush melodic delays wash with an influx of lyrics that pierce with uncanny imagery and diction.’ - VICE
It’s not every day you hear about a new Lost Animal album. In fact, it’s been ten years between drinks. The debut Ex Tropical (Hardly Art/Sub Pop) was released in 2011, and followed by You Yang (Remote Control) in 2016. So what happened, and where’s frontman/mastermind Jarrod Quarrell been for the last ten years?
From the horse's mouth, “I don't give a fuck about productivity”. A humbling reply. It confirms Quarrell's MO: here’s an artist as a non-conformist. And when he does see fit to bless us with his unique vision of what music can sound like, it has the ability to completely charm and disarm. Amongst a sea of rock bands, LA is essentially a solo act. Simply put; LA is JQ. But on the other hand, amongst an ocean of solo acts, LA possesses the grandiosity of a full band, punk in spirit, but without being fast, or heavy.
Armed with keys and synths, timbres align more with what a toucan might listen to, as opposed to what's heard commonly throughout Melbourne's gig economy. Strings are gently plucked and horns are tenderly blown. These are the colourful brush strokes that decorate the upper frequencies. They’re the ticket to a far away land;exotic, and potentially very dangerous. If the crew from Hear My Eyes are reading this, consider Lost Animal performing Give Some Get Some as the soundtrack to the next time you screen The Hangover Part 2. Yeah, the one where shit gets super fried in Thailand.
The album examines the underbelly of what a ten year journey might rub up against. As one may expect, a lot of that action is below the belt. Tracks like Do That Thing, and In
Rewinding, a few things have happened in the past ten years that are worth illuminating. Shags is no longer commandeering the bass full time. Though he does make an appearance on a couple tracks. The main difference from present day to yesteryear LA is Dan Luscombe (The Drones). Luscombe has jumped into the role of producer (and also part of the live band). One could say he’s a producer of the Spector-ilk: playing a hands-on approach and assisting Quarrell's song crafting. He may have suggested to add a chorus or two, but the chord progressions remain distinctly Lost Animal. You'll recognise them easily by their beauty, combined with either fragility or rigidity. Luscombe is arguably the defining force that made this album happen. Perhaps he had Quarrell at gunpoint. Yet to be confirmed. Regardless, thank fuck for Luscombe because it may have been another decade.
But the album's defining feature is arguably Quarrell's lyricism. He may not cross-examine where he's been, but his voice does unmask where he is: absolved and reincarnated. The decade-long journey has resulted in him looking inwards and unlocking himself. The album's many mantras suggest that he may be a bird (I'm a Bird Now), or that he is living on another planet (Never is Forever). Whatever and wherever he may be,
Give Some Get Some invites the listener to reflect on their own journey over the past decade. Because the game's got a price. So ask yourself what have you taken, and what have you given? Life ain't a box of chocolates. It's a bowl of berries. And when fruit symbolizes temptation, get some.
IRST ALBUM IN 10 YEARS.
TOURING WITH TROPICAL FUCK STORM IN NOVEMBER (DATES BELOW).
PRODUCED BY DAN LUSCOMBE (THE DRONES) WHO IS ALSO PART OF THE LIVE BAND.
PREVIOUS ALBUMS ON HARDLY ART/SUB POP AND REMOTE CONTROL.
VERY LIMITED BLACK VINYL AND INDIES ONLY PINK VINYL . NON-RETURNABLE.
‘Jarrod Quarrell, creator of Lost Animal, is one of the most underrated songwriters in Australia and one of our all-time favourites. He creates poetic expressions. His work is very interesting in a highly original way and richly emotional. The songs reveal themselves more over many listens and always feel fresh. His powerful, beautiful, transformative, and unforgettable songs possess the vast depth of the human spirit.’ - GIMMIE GIMMIE GIMMIE ZINE
‘Quarrell has developed a collaged techne that embodies a heart-on-sleeve attitude. Lush melodic delays wash with an influx of lyrics that pierce with uncanny imagery and diction.’ - VICE
It’s not every day you hear about a new Lost Animal album. In fact, it’s been ten years between drinks. The debut Ex Tropical (Hardly Art/Sub Pop) was released in 2011, and followed by You Yang (Remote Control) in 2016. So what happened, and where’s frontman/mastermind Jarrod Quarrell been for the last ten years?
From the horse's mouth, “I don't give a fuck about productivity”. A humbling reply. It confirms Quarrell's MO: here’s an artist as a non-conformist. And when he does see fit to bless us with his unique vision of what music can sound like, it has the ability to completely charm and disarm. Amongst a sea of rock bands, LA is essentially a solo act. Simply put; LA is JQ. But on the other hand, amongst an ocean of solo acts, LA possesses the grandiosity of a full band, punk in spirit, but without being fast, or heavy.
Armed with keys and synths, timbres align more with what a toucan might listen to, as opposed to what's heard commonly throughout Melbourne's gig economy. Strings are gently plucked and horns are tenderly blown. These are the colourful brush strokes that decorate the upper frequencies. They’re the ticket to a far away land;exotic, and potentially very dangerous. If the crew from Hear My Eyes are reading this, consider Lost Animal performing Give Some Get Some as the soundtrack to the next time you screen The Hangover Part 2. Yeah, the one where shit gets super fried in Thailand.
The album examines the underbelly of what a ten year journey might rub up against. As one may expect, a lot of that action is below the belt. Tracks like Do That Thing, and In
Rewinding, a few things have happened in the past ten years that are worth illuminating. Shags is no longer commandeering the bass full time. Though he does make an appearance on a couple tracks. The main difference from present day to yesteryear LA is Dan Luscombe (The Drones). Luscombe has jumped into the role of producer (and also part of the live band). One could say he’s a producer of the Spector-ilk: playing a hands-on approach and assisting Quarrell's song crafting. He may have suggested to add a chorus or two, but the chord progressions remain distinctly Lost Animal. You'll recognise them easily by their beauty, combined with either fragility or rigidity. Luscombe is arguably the defining force that made this album happen. Perhaps he had Quarrell at gunpoint. Yet to be confirmed. Regardless, thank fuck for Luscombe because it may have been another decade.
But the album's defining feature is arguably Quarrell's lyricism. He may not cross-examine where he's been, but his voice does unmask where he is: absolved and reincarnated. The decade-long journey has resulted in him looking inwards and unlocking himself. The album's many mantras suggest that he may be a bird (I'm a Bird Now), or that he is living on another planet (Never is Forever). Whatever and wherever he may be,
Give Some Get Some invites the listener to reflect on their own journey over the past decade. Because the game's got a price. So ask yourself what have you taken, and what have you given? Life ain't a box of chocolates. It's a bowl of berries. And when fruit symbolizes temptation, get some.
Blume presents The Days Pass Quickly Immersed in the Shadow of Eternity, a new work by Lea Bertucci commissioned by the ZKM Center for Art and Media Karlsruhe and premiered in Karlsruhe in November 2025. Written for, and created in collaboration with, the flutist Norbert Rodenkirchen, it draws on his collection of Renaissance, Medieval, and Neolithic instruments, harnessing sounds that have been largely absent from the modern world. What does it mean to employ one of humanity's oldest known technologies, the flute, appearing in human hands tens of thousands of years before the advent of the wheel, within an experimental, electroacoustic composition that is inherently forward-thinking?
Since her emergence within New York City's Noise scene during the early 2010s, Bertucci has balanced a fierce dedication to the DIY ethos and immediacy of the underground with a refined sense of creative rigor and ambition, moving from brittle, challenging compositions for saxophone, electronics, and tape toward investigations of acoustic phenomena, site-specific resonance, and complex harmonic interplay. Following her return to the rural environments of Upstate New York where she was born and raised, her work has entered a more introspective phase, with an expanded instrumental, technical, and vocal palette that has found her increasingly composing for others, as on 2023's Of Shadow and Substance and on Fata Morgana, a work for organ released earlier this year.
The piece grew from a meeting with Rodenkirchen after a performance by the early music ensemble Sequentia, to which he belongs. Struck by his ability to conjure "spirits from deep within human memory, as a clarion call into the present", Bertucci began a series of conversations that led the pair into the studio at ZKM in the summer of 2024. Conceived for ZKM's 42.4 speaker system, grouped into 8 discrete outputs before being mixed down to stereo, the work aligns with the collaborative process she has honed alongside her solo efforts, in duos with Ben Vida, Lawrence English, and Olivia Block: a dialog with personal and responsive agency offered to both musicians.
It carries forward her inquiry into the fundamentally human aspects of listening ("I am looking for sounds that call from somewhere deep within the listener and that tap into archetypal human knowledge and feeling") and her investigation of psychoacoustic phenomena and otoacoustic emissions through a meticulous alignment of pitches and timbres. Where many of her most celebrated efforts played, and played with, the room, this one is rooted in an implied space: the flutes recall and blur the boundaries between the eras and environments in which those instruments were originally played, from acoustically engineered Renaissance and Medieval halls to the naturally reverberant caves of the Neolithic, and those of the present.
Bertucci is not the first to bring ancient sound sources into experimental music: Harry Partch's instruments drew on Greek, Chinese, and Japanese precursors, Alvin Curran regularly plays a conch shell, and Walter Maioli has spent decades working at the borders of experimental music and archaeology. Her piece occupies a more rarefied position through its hybridity, combining advanced technology with archaic sound sources while sidestepping the exoticism and romantic primitivism that can hobble such efforts. Compared with its closest cousin, Phill Niblock's Four Full Flutes, where the instruments are manipulated beyond clear recognition, here the flutes remain recognizable and embrace the layers of history they carry. The result is an electroacoustic work that largely forgoes the auditory signifiers of the idiom: it could easily pass for a live ensemble, and only attentive listening reveals that it could only have been made through advanced technology.
As Rodenkirchen's playing interweaves with Bertucci's computer-facilitated arrangements of flute samples, ranging from pulsing clusters to dense combinations of sustained tones, timbres, and distances, the piece draws connections with folk and spiritual traditions across human history: Medieval polyphonic ecclesiastical music, Sardinian canto a tenore, Pygmy vocal music, Buddhist chant. By conjoining one of our earliest known technologies with our most advanced, Bertucci proposes that our tools are not the message, but rather the unending continuum of humanity itself. Issued by Blume in a highly limited vinyl edition of 300 copies on transparent light blue vinyl, with newly commissioned liner notes by Bradford Bailey.
With his last three records all landing within a calendar year (2024-25), enigmatic Swedish producer Civilistjävel! (aka Tomas Bodén) is on a hot streak of releases, his singular vision increasingly ambitious and expansive. There are few artists working at this level so consistently right now, reinventing, revising and continually developing their language. Following on from 2025’s radically re-worked ‘Versions’ (of Mayssa Jallad’s ‘Marjaa…’), Bodén returns to break further fresh ground with his new album, ‘Älvgång’. Featuring contributions from Soccer Committee, Carrier and guest (aka Jabu’s Jasmine Butt), ‘Älvgång’ foregrounds a more brittle and insistent rhythm-based sound, whilst comprising his most broad-ranging collection of material to date.
‘Älvgång’ grew out of a series of sketches made from late ‘24 and throughout the whole of ‘25 at Stockholm’s renowned EMS Studios, which gave Boden free rein to its extensive collection of vintage analogue equipment and rare modular synthesizers such as the Serge and Buchla systems. As a loose framework of tracks began to take shape, so did a reflection of sorts, on family and foundations, underpinned or influenced by sounds that drifted into Tomas consciousness around this time - ancient Swedish pastoral music, Georgian lithurgical chants, gongs, chimes. An idea settled into place, a dedication to his Grandfather, as the earlier release Fyra Platser (tr. ‘Four Places’) was to his Grandmother. Älvgång is grounded with the sense of time and place of an old family photograph, with the tracks over each side bearing one of two names that are more or less the same location - Strinne was the old name for a this loose collection of villages. These days it is more commonly known as Bjärtrå. Metaphorically speaking, the river runs through both.
Civilistjävel! conjures so many adjectives and descriptors, ‘glacial’ and ‘ambient’ frequently among them - but while not altogether untrue, such terms belie the tension and drama so often present in Tomas’ music. Listening to ‘Älvgång’ is not a passive experience. The eight tracks here feel like a patchwork of memories that bathe in the same ethereal, otherworldly glow of Tarkovsky’s polaroids’.
The machine pulses that dominate this landscape are reigned in and tempered by a human hand; lithe, untethered coils, breathing in and out. ‘Strinne Ett’ sets out with purpose, sensing awe and wonder through the murk, but as the final tone unfurls like a question mark, another chapter begins, unfolding/building like a Tarjei Vesaas novel. These lyrical, abstract miniatures combine to reveal a wider context, fragile humanity standing alone against nature.
Guest appearances on Civilistjävel! records have become a regular occurrence (including recent collaborations with Mayssa Jallad, Laila Sakini, Cucina Povera, Thomas Bush, Eldon + Withdrawn), but are used sparingly and with increasing precision. On ‘Strinne Tre’ Mariska Baars’ (Soccer Committee) voice feels like a balm, a clearing. But as her simple, three-word incantation drifts further into fog, the meaning changes, and her words seem to curdle. Carrier’s beats widen the parameters on ‘Strinne Fyra’, a skittering promise that builds tension then refuses to release it; all false starts, Photek gongs, and trinkling modulars. Jabu’s Jasmine Butt pulls all the threads together for the final track, Thomas Tallis’ ghost walking over offset machine impulses, that work against their own symmetry.
Side two begins inquisitively, scanning bleached, alien surroundings, its sparse pads recalling Aphex Twin’s ‘Selected Ambient works Vol 2’. 'Bjärtrå Två’ picks up the baton from ' Strinne Fyra’ with a ruptured Simmons SDS200 analogue drum synth set free from its shackles, the rhythm eventually slotting into the spaces that were hiding in plain sight. What follows seems like an epiphany; ‘Bjärtrå Tre’ is achingly beautiful, a euphoric, winding ascent that leads to devotional plainsong. ‘Bjärtrå Fyra‘s final unheralded shift feels both tragic and haunting.
On Oath's latest, the imprint keeps the jazz-fuelled atmospheres going with 'Seven Dogs', an EP that serves up an astonishing excursion through deeply hypnotic melodies and idiosyncratic grooves, courtesy of an iconic link-up between Rteph88 aka Robin Taylor-Firth and Steve Cobby.
Taylor-Firth and Cobby are musicians whose careers are so richly storied, broad-ranging, and impactful that it's difficult to summarise their output and impact in so few words. Both Taylor-Firth and Cobby firmly established themselves in the 90s, being involved in some of the era's most prominent and celebrated groups and for releasing some truly era-defining records. As such, their discographies reach far and wide, from house and techno cuts through to downtempo, drum'n'bass and leftfield, there is little that is left uncovered, and this spirit remains with them both as they continue to explore the outer parameters of their sounds.
Taylor-Firth, a songwriter, arranger, and producer, is perhaps best known for his long association with Warp Records and its sublabel Nucleus, and for his work as a member of Nightmares on Wax, where his signature keyboard playing style became a staple of the group's legendary sound. Alongside this, he has hundreds of songwriting and arranging credits on a dizzying array of records, and was a member of house music group Anon and Pio Bo alongside Richard Barratt - to name but a few selected highlights of his extraordinary career. Cobby's career is distinguished by his multitude of releases under a variety of aliases, along with his helming of a number of imprints, including Pork Recordings and his most recent label Déclassé. Experimenting with a wide variety of genres and sounds, perhaps his best-known work was with the duo Fila Brazillia alongside Dave McSherry, who released a plethora of immersive and innovative records in the 90s and beyond.
'Seven Dogs' represents a shared passion, vision, and musicality, two languages borne of similar spaces but reaching through time, space, and existence in creating a richly veiled musical experience that draws from lifetimes spent within the nucleus of music's soul. The EP speaks of the present as such as the past and indeed future, hinting with motifs that feel right at home within sun-kissed skies and within the walls of the chill out rooms. 'Early Doors', the EP's opener, displays the core fundamentals of the unfolding experience, namely the intrinsic relationship between keys and drums and how they express tone and mood. The piano gently caresses, ethereally floating with space to grow, as the drums lightly swing into life, providing an engrossing and rhythmically diverse groove that nods as much as it dives. The title track lands next and leads with a more driving feel. Sonically, the track leads with an oozing bass sequence that worms through the mid range before retreating under an array of compelling piano chords. The drums once again provide a strong backbone, allowing the melodic elements up top to fully express themselves - in a myriad of ways, murmuring and clamouring all at once.
'Visiting Hobo' brings the groove down a few notches. Slightly sombre in its delivery, the piano and bass interchange above a sparse yet hard-hitting groove, with as much emphasis placed on the emptiness as on the melodically full sections. The piano has a certain tonality here, with the notes containing a large amount of textural reverb that helps the track feel alive, almost growing out of the speakers. Wrapping things up is 'Titled', which begins with the keys and an array of whimsical features. The drums allow themselves time to grow into being, but when they do, they simmer within an enriching melange. It's a fitting end to a record that abounds with sonic consideration, environmental and emotive feeling, where two technicians bring their best and serve up four tracks of such sublimeness and thoughtfulness. One to drift deep within, on those hot summer days….
Ossie lands back on Heist after his 2025 hit ‘Are U still smiling?’ with a 4 track EP featuring Miraa May.
How on earth do you follow up your debut when that record got dancefloors moving across the world and picked up radio & dj plays from dance music’s finest selectors?
Many producers would get instant writer’s block, but not Ossie. His new EP on Heist is full of joyous melodies, catchy vocals and euphoric dancefloor moments. Across 4 tracks, Ossie takes us on a trip through rolling electronics, catchy UK sounds and big room anthems.
His Heist debut in 2025 did not go by unnoticed, and Ossie kept a busy calendar since, with regular shows in London and Hï Ibiza with Skepta’s Mas Tiempo crew, his own Supercali imprint as well as his appearance alongside heavyweights Louie Vega, Kerri Chandler, Cinthie and more on Heist’s ‘House of House’ much celebrated compilation.
The Motivation EP kicks off with a bumpy UK track that somehow reminds us of Bicep early day hit ‘Vision of love’. Where the Bicep boys went for a big sample, Ossie landed a surprise studio session with Algerian born-London native Miraa May where they wrote ‘Motivation’ in a single session. The track is stripped back to its core with catchy scats and chants from Miraa May and keys that’ll stick with you far after the track is over. If you’d need any extra motivation for your daily routine, to get out of bed or to go out dancing, this is your jam.
‘Can it get any better’ is a loopy house affair with soulful vocal chants, hints of disco and a subtle piano theme that drives the track into big room territory. It’s energetic without ever getting over the top; a thin line Ossie navigates effortlessly on this record.
On the flip, we’ve got ‘Left side’; a deep groover built around a synth & disco loop and cleverly sampled vocals singing ‘I believe… oooh yes I do’. This one is definitely a lowkey banger, where Ossie turns that one simple loop into a powerful theme made to ignite dancefloors.
The EP closes with the heavy warehouse groove of ‘Don’t stop’. A cavernous low end, rough percussion and chopped synth stabs all come together on this beast of a track. Ossie cleverly plays around with vinyl backspins, vocal chops and small changeovers to keep things interesting, while the groove just keeps on going.
Ossie’s ‘Motivation’ EP has dancefloor written all over it and with all its forward energy, there’s no doubt you’ll be hearing this one a lot in clubs all over the world.
Hidden Sounds Record store – with the help of Emotional Recordings – launches the Dark Times label with the first of two club orientated EPs from Canadian brother-production duo Lex and Rew MacCrimmon and their project Alkahest.
Released on their own Post Contemporary label between 1994 – 1996, Alkahest contrasted with the spacious electronica of their influential and still on-going project, Legion Of Green Men.
Growing up in suburban city life in Burlington, Ontario, the MacCrimmon brothers’ interest in music and collecting records started early, always looking for interesting sounds in new places. With a limited local music scene or record stores, the alternative and college radio stations were the only way to discover new music or the type of music they sought.
The German electronic sounds of Kraftwerk, Klaus Schulze and Tangerine Dream were early obsessions, alongside Neu, Cluster (& Eno) and the post punk and synth pop emanating from Britain. The Flying Lizards, John Foxx / Ultravox, Gary Numan and The Normal were favourites, before diving into the 80s industrial experiments of Cabaret Voltaire, Severed Heads, Nurse With Wound and Throbbing Gristle.
Making their own music soon followed, first experimenting with 4 track cassette and digital delay, drum machines and synths soon followed, steadily building their own studio. All these influences merged in the early 90s with the dawn of house and techno and the progression to start the Post Contemporary label launched in 1992.
With the project Legion Of Green Men achieving early success, their diversion with Alkahest explored a post-industrial techno hybrid. Unsubtle, night music, the rhythm and sonic textures are more prominent over melody.
Contact High covers this Alkahest sound, from the 133 bpm trippy, psychedelics of opener Black Tabs, the acid breaks of Ground Zero or the charging nature of closing Séance 333, where all bets are off – together this 4 track EP perfectly captures the early spirit of Canada’s electronic music scene finding its place in dance culture, from the raves of the Toronto’s outer rim to the beaches of Anjuna.
However, in the title cut Contact High, there is something else happening, as electronic dub is explored, where the space in the music, between the beats, is as important at what happens on the surface. A love of this ethereal feeling would lead the brothers to head further in this direction and here is a perfect example of that early journey.
At the foot of the mountain. Our gaze is inclined toward the summit.
Toward the ascent. The destination that awaits us.
From the valley, we look up at the summit: our destination. But also the path: the true destination.
We can already trace our route, and we are already imagining ourselves walking up there. Along the small ridge, just above the tree line. There, we take a short break and look for the exact spot in the valley where we were standing earlier. It is strange to grasp that we have actually climbed this mountain. To look down from up here at the place where we were just moments ago – the same place we looked up from, toward the place where we are standing now.
And now, knowing what it is like to be up here, we remember what we imagined it would be like back then. What we believed it would mean to stand here.
Along the way, our gaze wanders back and forth. Up toward the mountain, down into the valley, sometimes only at our shoes. We keep walking, one step after another. Our thoughts detached. Our body functioning purely mechanically.
Step left. Step right. Step left. Step right.
Our mind has completely detached itself, and our thoughts race at an immense speed. They summon the most different moments. Moments from our lives. Moments that shaped us, that made us who we are. Or are we perhaps simply trying to understand who we are and how we got here?
It is strange that reaching the summit and looking down could make us believe that we have finally reached, or are striving toward, some superior, triumphant position. When in fact, it is really only about looking at the path we inevitably have to take. Processing impressions from a certain distance. Reconsidering what we have experienced, without losing sight of what lies ahead.
Our gaze turns back toward the summit.
Is there a destination?
An ascent? A summit? A descent? The return?
Or is it only about the insights we encounter along the way?
Am Fuß des Berges. Unser Blick ist zum Gipfel geneigt.
Auf den Aufstieg. Das Ziel, das uns erwartet.
Vom Tal aus blicken wir auf den Gipfel: unser Ziel. Aber auch den Weg: das wahre Ziel. Unsere Route kann man jetzt schon abstecken, und wir stellen uns bereits vor, wie wir dort oben laufen. Über den kleinen Grat, leicht oberhalb der Baumgrenze. Dort machen wir eine kleine Pause und suchen genau die Stelle im Tal, an der wir vorhin noch standen. Es ist verrückt, zu begreifen, dass wir diesen Berg tatsächlich hinaufgestiegen sind. Von hier oben auf den Ort hinunterzusehen, an dem wir eben noch waren – an denselben Ort, zu dem wir hinaufgeblickt haben, als wir noch dort unten standen. Und jetzt, da wir wissen, wie es ist, hier oben zu sein, erinnern wir uns daran, was wir uns damals darunter vorgestellt haben. Was wir geglaubt haben, es würde bedeuten, hier zu stehen.
Unterwegs wandert unser Blick hin und her. Hinauf zum Berg, hinunter ins Tal, manchmal nur auf unsere Schuhe. Wir gehen weiter, einen Schritt nach dem anderen. Unsere Gedanken losgelöst. Unser Körper funktioniert rein mechanisch. Schritt links. Schritt rechts. Schritt links. Schritt rechts.
Unser Geist hat sich völlig losgelöst, und unsere Gedanken rasen mit einer ungeheuren Geschwindigkeit. Sie rufen die verschiedensten Momente herauf. Momente aus unserem Leben. Momente, die uns geprägt haben, aus denen wir geworden sind, wer wir sind. Oder versuchen wir vielleicht einfach nur zu verstehen, wer wir sind und wie wir hierhergekommen sind?
Es ist schon seltsam, dass das Erreichen des Gipfels und der Blick nach unten uns glauben lassen könnten, dass wir endlich eine überragende, triumphale Position erreicht haben oder anstreben würden. Dabei geht es doch eigentlich nur um den Blick auf den Weg, den wir zwangsläufig beschreiten müssen. Eindrücke mit etwas Abstand zu verarbeiten. Erlebtes noch einmal Revue passieren zu lassen, ohne den Blick nach vorne zu verlieren.
Unser Blick wendet sich wieder dem Gipfel zu. Gibt es ein Ziel? Einen Aufstieg? Einen Gipfel? Einen Abstieg? Die Rückkehr? Oder geht es nur um die Erkenntnisse, die uns unterwegs begegnen?
