Search:this other space

Just as you were getting your head straight coming off the 21st Trip … Brown Acid dose # 22 drops, continuing to fry your mind in a revolving trap-door Twilight Zone alternate world of early hard rock… populated by real life characters so far out they can look like a cheesy wedding band but sound like Blue Cheer! Uncanny! This music comes at you from many angles. Teens in a garage colliding with booze, drugs and girls for the first time, lounge lizard hustlers with snazzy stage clothes and fuzz boxes… gnarly backwoods troublemakers meet blow dried glam rock wannabes here, seamlessly clobbering your head with sound rather than each other! An electric post-psychedelic bar brawl for your mind awaits, unfasten your seat belt, crank it up and fly! Sounds Synonymous "Babylon" out of Flint, Michigan 1969 rip the devastating Blue Cheer classic a new one, immediately swarming you with organ swells and distortion before collapsing into a tuff funk groove, a psychedelic James Brown vibe shot through with dirty howling fuzz guitar, vocals nailing the messed up but confident relaxed sneering attitude of the original Cheer eruption. The Bumps "Shining" from Seattle 1969 resides right at the transition of ‘60s psych into early prog, well constructed, no diluting things artsy fartsy style, a compelling heavy riff, spacious vocal harmony hook floating above a turbulent take on getting your shit together and shining like a star. Fat chance, but you can dream, the band did and their dreams kick ass across time to right now or you wouldn’t be here.

Coulda been a hit back then, definitely a hit now. Riverside "Farmer" explodes out of Austin, Texas 1974, economical but brilliantly structured riffs and power chords, intense dynamic tension/release, fantastic screaming leads over shifting angles of attack during the middle break… it’s all here with a detached confidence in the vocal that swaggers back in time to the late ‘60s in its proto-heavy psych adjacent assault. Cincinnati Joe & Mad Lydia "Get It Together" for real in Cincinnati, Ohio 1970. The song says everything you need to know: “You may think that you’re the very best, miles and miles ahead of the rest, but be sure when you’re put to the test you get it together!” These words are deployed in a manner similar to Peter Green’s “Oh Well”, intermittently stated between killer gnarly guitar and gushy organ attacks. Bar band heaven and hell rolled up into one big ball, the vocals get all the way out there! Straight Up "Fire" takes the monster 1968 Crazy World Of Arthur Brown hit into faithfully executed but surreally minimalist territory, Minneapolis, Minnesota 1974. Genius version of a key song that presciently cuts to the chase regarding Brown Acid’s incinerations of psychedelic idealism, you’re gonna burn, burn, burn… as that moment climaxes you can gawk at their preposterous flashy lounge band stage outfits and realize side one must end because everything is totally scorched into eternity. Scrap Iron "Poopsie" is a primitive two chord stomper with spiraling fuzz and organ riffs, singer marking his territory caveman style. “Poopsie, you’re my woman” he commands, but gets weirdly insecure she’ll blow him off at the altar by the end of each verse. Snarly wah-wah ices this toxic cake out of Carteret, New Jersey 1973. Focused delivery so single-mindedly crude it creates an inescapable instant brain-worm. Lady "Live Show Tigers" is amongst the most potently life affirming trash rockers you’ll ever hear, one outrageously triumphant but fiercely sloppy anthem about living it up like a star, strutting the stage glammed up New York Dolls drag style but with a Dictators sense of humor. Tasty slightly off kilter guitar leads all through, going serendipitously berserk on the fade. Picture disc single out of L.A. 1980. Fantastic fun rock star rock at a very raw local street level where any time is party time.

Killer Frog "Hard Times" on Masochist Records from Chicago, Illinois 1972 takes less than two minutes, an action packed James Gang style bar band rocker with a bit of punky sneer in the face of misfortune. These guys never even heard of flower power. They are killer frogs. Good Humore "Killer" does kill in stripped down hard rock trio style, Warren, Michigan 1976. No frills guitar, bass and drums groove tight, snaky primordial riff, snarly licks. “She’s a killer of a woman, knows just what she’s doing…” The singer knows she’s a femme-fatale roadhouse predator but she’s so hot the inevitable wreckage seems a bargain. Ride it out like the extended jam on the fade knowing she’ll be back for more! Sarawest "Space Rider" winds up the 22nd Trip lost in a twisted two chord space adventure from the point of view of an alien visiting our planet seeking knowledge but finding out we are stupidly destroying ourselves, so he gotta split sneering back at us like we wasted his time “I got no time for loving… I wanna be a space rider, space rider”. Toronto, Canada 1974, a vibe lurking in some strange but funny void between late ‘60s outsider garage psychedelic rock complete with reverb-y acid guitar leads and late ‘70s retro-futuristic D.I.Y wisecracking from inner space… taking the piss out of outer space!

Just as you were getting your head straight coming off the 21st Trip … Brown Acid dose # 22 drops, continuing to fry your mind in a revolving trap-door Twilight Zone alternate world of early hard rock… populated by real life characters so far out they can look like a cheesy wedding band but sound like Blue Cheer! Uncanny! This music comes at you from many angles. Teens in a garage colliding with booze, drugs and girls for the first time, lounge lizard hustlers with snazzy stage clothes and fuzz boxes… gnarly backwoods troublemakers meet blow dried glam rock wannabes here, seamlessly clobbering your head with sound rather than each other! An electric post-psychedelic bar brawl for your mind awaits, unfasten your seat belt, crank it up and fly! Sounds Synonymous "Babylon" out of Flint, Michigan 1969 rip the devastating Blue Cheer classic a new one, immediately swarming you with organ swells and distortion before collapsing into a tuff funk groove, a psychedelic James Brown vibe shot through with dirty howling fuzz guitar, vocals nailing the messed up but confident relaxed sneering attitude of the original Cheer eruption. The Bumps "Shining" from Seattle 1969 resides right at the transition of ‘60s psych into early prog, well constructed, no diluting things artsy fartsy style, a compelling heavy riff, spacious vocal harmony hook floating above a turbulent take on getting your shit together and shining like a star. Fat chance, but you can dream, the band did and their dreams kick ass across time to right now or you wouldn’t be here.

Coulda been a hit back then, definitely a hit now. Riverside "Farmer" explodes out of Austin, Texas 1974, economical but brilliantly structured riffs and power chords, intense dynamic tension/release, fantastic screaming leads over shifting angles of attack during the middle break… it’s all here with a detached confidence in the vocal that swaggers back in time to the late ‘60s in its proto-heavy psych adjacent assault. Cincinnati Joe & Mad Lydia "Get It Together" for real in Cincinnati, Ohio 1970. The song says everything you need to know: “You may think that you’re the very best, miles and miles ahead of the rest, but be sure when you’re put to the test you get it together!” These words are deployed in a manner similar to Peter Green’s “Oh Well”, intermittently stated between killer gnarly guitar and gushy organ attacks. Bar band heaven and hell rolled up into one big ball, the vocals get all the way out there! Straight Up "Fire" takes the monster 1968 Crazy World Of Arthur Brown hit into faithfully executed but surreally minimalist territory, Minneapolis, Minnesota 1974. Genius version of a key song that presciently cuts to the chase regarding Brown Acid’s incinerations of psychedelic idealism, you’re gonna burn, burn, burn… as that moment climaxes you can gawk at their preposterous flashy lounge band stage outfits and realize side one must end because everything is totally scorched into eternity. Scrap Iron "Poopsie" is a primitive two chord stomper with spiraling fuzz and organ riffs, singer marking his territory caveman style. “Poopsie, you’re my woman” he commands, but gets weirdly insecure she’ll blow him off at the altar by the end of each verse. Snarly wah-wah ices this toxic cake out of Carteret, New Jersey 1973. Focused delivery so single-mindedly crude it creates an inescapable instant brain-worm. Lady "Live Show Tigers" is amongst the most potently life affirming trash rockers you’ll ever hear, one outrageously triumphant but fiercely sloppy anthem about living it up like a star, strutting the stage glammed up New York Dolls drag style but with a Dictators sense of humor. Tasty slightly off kilter guitar leads all through, going serendipitously berserk on the fade. Picture disc single out of L.A. 1980. Fantastic fun rock star rock at a very raw local street level where any time is party time.

Killer Frog "Hard Times" on Masochist Records from Chicago, Illinois 1972 takes less than two minutes, an action packed James Gang style bar band rocker with a bit of punky sneer in the face of misfortune. These guys never even heard of flower power. They are killer frogs. Good Humore "Killer" does kill in stripped down hard rock trio style, Warren, Michigan 1976. No frills guitar, bass and drums groove tight, snaky primordial riff, snarly licks. “She’s a killer of a woman, knows just what she’s doing…” The singer knows she’s a femme-fatale roadhouse predator but she’s so hot the inevitable wreckage seems a bargain. Ride it out like the extended jam on the fade knowing she’ll be back for more! Sarawest "Space Rider" winds up the 22nd Trip lost in a twisted two chord space adventure from the point of view of an alien visiting our planet seeking knowledge but finding out we are stupidly destroying ourselves, so he gotta split sneering back at us like we wasted his time “I got no time for loving… I wanna be a space rider, space rider”. Toronto, Canada 1974, a vibe lurking in some strange but funny void between late ‘60s outsider garage psychedelic rock complete with reverb-y acid guitar leads and late ‘70s retro-futuristic D.I.Y wisecracking from inner space… taking the piss out of outer space!

A guitar stands alone in Wedding, that metropolitan biotope in the western center of Berlin, caught in constant transformation between idyll and abyss. It lets its gaze wander, unsettled, almost shy, until it encounters a trumpet, with which it begins a cautious, then ever more intimate pas de deux.
Welcome to the second studio album by the Berlin-based band Conic Rose.
The album title Wedding is no coincidence. The story of Conic Rose is closely intertwined with the Berlin neighborhood that gives the record its name. The band's studio is located here, and both studio albums were created in the immediate vicinity of the small river Panke. This place settles over the music like a warming patina. The album feels as though the musicians and the neighborhood have invited one another to get to know each other. Not least because Wedding also means marriage. These marriages between a band and an urban landscape, a fading past and an emerging future, fear and hope - unfold in every single song on Wedding.
For their second album, Conic Rose repositioned themselves completely. Not in terms of personnel, but in the question of how to move forward. Conic Rose still sound like Conic Rose; their distinctive blend of cinematic jazz, ambient textures and guitar-led contemporary music remains untouched. And yet Wedding is, in many ways, the conceptual counterpart to their debut album Heller Tag. Where the debut documented movement within an urban setting, Wedding describes a state of being. Behind every piece seems to hover a large question mark.The group opens up its palette, allowing more influences, becoming at once more subtle, more profound, more filigree. It is less about definition than about the spaces in between. The most immediately striking difference from the previous album is the strong presence of the guitar. In Bertram Burkert's playing, many voices seem to converge. His yearning openness forms an equal counterpoint to Döben's trumpet and flugelhorn. Blurred and layered sounds occasionally make the ground seem to slip away beneath one's feet, while Döben's gliding lines create both closeness and distance. Together, the band express in a deeply subtle way a sense of life that corresponds precisely to our time. Something lurks in the background, omnipresent yet still unnameable. Conic Rose need no words to convey this feeling of uncertainty with remarkable eloquence. Perhaps this has something to do with Wedding being a place of confrontational introspection, but Conic Rose confront the escape from escape itself. With the recording and release of Wedding, this process is far from complete. The seed only begins to grow in the listener's ear. With every listen and the echo it leaves behind in memory, the studio bud continues to bloom. The album is merely the point of departure. What ultimately matters is what it sets in motion within those who encounter it.

2026 Repress

This relatively new Stockholm duo have been making waves with their latest vinyl output. This EP conveys their love for the disco house sounds of Chicago, spearheaded by the likes of DJ Sneak. ‘Spoon Bait’ leads the way using an almost dreamlike vocal hook over a deep bass led groove with dub effects to boot. ‘Tuborg Translate’ picks up the tempo, chopping up a Philly style hook, underpinned by crisp beats and otherworldly space effects. Title track ‘Silja Line Superstar’ keeps the peak-time action going utilising warm emotive strings and brass whilst ‘Kenneth Knaster’ bounces along on a sublime disco ride bringing the EP to a close.

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Aspen is very proud to introduce ‘Non Sonett’ by the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble. This ensemble is a pioneering Norwegian chamber group whose work on ECM and Hubro has redefined the boundaries between jazz, contemporary composition and folk music.Across seven albums, the ensemble has developed a highly distinctive l anguage built on restraint, timbral nuance and collective interplay, placing it among the most influential European ensembles of the 21st century.

Bringing together some of the finest musicians in Norway, the ensemble draws on a rare collective sensitivity, where each player contributes to a deeply integrated and texturally rich sound world.

With Non Sonett, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble opens a new chapter that grows directly out of recent years of work in more solitary and cross-disciplinary contexts. In this period, Wallumrød has developed material for solo performance as well as for dance, allowing ideas to take shape in more fluid and exploratory formats. Some of this material now finds its way into the ensemble, where it is met by the possibilities offered by instrumentation, collective playing, and the distinct voices of the musicians. At the same time, older pieces—originating in entirely different settings— re-emerge here in new forms, reshaped by the ensemble context.

A defining aspect of Non Sonett is the way many of the pieces function less as fully determined compositions and more as open frameworks: starting points, suggestions, or “springboards” for music. These structures invite response rather than prescribe outcome, relying on the ensemble’s inherent sensitivity and capacity to realize and transform the material in performance. The result is music that feels both precise and fluid, shaped in equal measure by composition and by the interpretative presence of the players.

Central to this album is a continued deepening of Wallumrød’s long-standing interest in ambiguity and in dissolving boundaries between different musical elements and expressive worlds. By placing contrasting materials and associations side by side—sometimes subtly, sometimes more overtly—the music opens up spaces where meanings remain fluid and interconnected. On Non Sonett, this approach is taken a step further, allowing these juxtapositions to play an even more active role in shaping the music’s character and flow.

This approach connects closely with the ensemble’s broader artistic trajectory. Over time, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble has developed a language that is immediately recognizable—marked by reduction, clarity and a deep attention to sonic detail. While each release has its own character, the underlying aesthetic remains consistent: a focus on the inner life of sound itself. Rather than foregrounding gesture or virtuosity, the music draws the listener toward the smallest elements, where meaning emerges gradually through texture, spacing and timbre.

The listening experience becomes one of concentration and proximity, where each sound carries weight, and the accumulation of detail forms a larger whole. References may be sensed—to early polyphonic music, Norwegian folk traditions, or more recent experimental practices—but these are absorbed into a singular musical language that resists categorization.

As with the ensemble’s recent work, Non Sonett also continues the integration of electronics as a fundamental part of the sound world. Each musician engages with electronic elements alongside their acoustic instruments, creating a layered and dynamic sonic environment. At times, this leads into extended, exploratory passages reminiscent of analogue musique concrète; at others, electronics operate almost imperceptibly, subtly altering and extending the acoustic textures in real time.

Aspen is very proud to introduce ‘Non Sonett’ by the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble. This ensemble is a pioneering Norwegian chamber group whose work on ECM and Hubro has redefined the boundaries between jazz, contemporary composition and folk music.Across seven albums, the ensemble has developed a highly distinctive l anguage built on restraint, timbral nuance and collective interplay, placing it among the most influential European ensembles of the 21st century.

Bringing together some of the finest musicians in Norway, the ensemble draws on a rare collective sensitivity, where each player contributes to a deeply integrated and texturally rich sound world.

With Non Sonett, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble opens a new chapter that grows directly out of recent years of work in more solitary and cross-disciplinary contexts. In this period, Wallumrød has developed material for solo performance as well as for dance, allowing ideas to take shape in more fluid and exploratory formats. Some of this material now finds its way into the ensemble, where it is met by the possibilities offered by instrumentation, collective playing, and the distinct voices of the musicians. At the same time, older pieces—originating in entirely different settings— re-emerge here in new forms, reshaped by the ensemble context.

A defining aspect of Non Sonett is the way many of the pieces function less as fully determined compositions and more as open frameworks: starting points, suggestions, or “springboards” for music. These structures invite response rather than prescribe outcome, relying on the ensemble’s inherent sensitivity and capacity to realize and transform the material in performance. The result is music that feels both precise and fluid, shaped in equal measure by composition and by the interpretative presence of the players.

Central to this album is a continued deepening of Wallumrød’s long-standing interest in ambiguity and in dissolving boundaries between different musical elements and expressive worlds. By placing contrasting materials and associations side by side—sometimes subtly, sometimes more overtly—the music opens up spaces where meanings remain fluid and interconnected. On Non Sonett, this approach is taken a step further, allowing these juxtapositions to play an even more active role in shaping the music’s character and flow.

This approach connects closely with the ensemble’s broader artistic trajectory. Over time, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble has developed a language that is immediately recognizable—marked by reduction, clarity and a deep attention to sonic detail. While each release has its own character, the underlying aesthetic remains consistent: a focus on the inner life of sound itself. Rather than foregrounding gesture or virtuosity, the music draws the listener toward the smallest elements, where meaning emerges gradually through texture, spacing and timbre.

The listening experience becomes one of concentration and proximity, where each sound carries weight, and the accumulation of detail forms a larger whole. References may be sensed—to early polyphonic music, Norwegian folk traditions, or more recent experimental practices—but these are absorbed into a singular musical language that resists categorization.

As with the ensemble’s recent work, Non Sonett also continues the integration of electronics as a fundamental part of the sound world. Each musician engages with electronic elements alongside their acoustic instruments, creating a layered and dynamic sonic environment. At times, this leads into extended, exploratory passages reminiscent of analogue musique concrète; at others, electronics operate almost imperceptibly, subtly altering and extending the acoustic textures in real time.

Evergreen In Your Mind, the new and third album from Norwegian singer-songwriter Juni Habel, exists in two worlds at the same time. Songs were recorded in quiet corners of her home, on the piano in the school where she works, and it uses the physical world around her to provide percussion. It also takes place, as she herself attests, within a dream; an imagined place in which her desire for oneness with each other and the world around us is finally realised.

Evergreen In Your Mind was recorded with co-producer Stian Skaaden, it’s Habel’s first album in three-years, following the breakthrough success of 2023’s Carvings LP. Formed of eleven new recordings, the songs here remain delicate, Habel’s voice playing an elegant lead role – but there are fluctuations too.

These small shifts in Habel’s sound result in a notable stride forward. More focus went into the groove of these songs. Playfulness was embraced and, perhaps most importantly, patience played a fundamental role in shaping the album with time and care given to every element of these songs. “We always aim to capture effortlessness - but the way of getting there is anything but effortless,” Habel reveals.

This extra time that was given to the project gave Juni the space to nurture her creativity. She would read and listen to music, hike into the hills, place herself within nature and seek out stillness. Not as a deviation from her work but as a fundamental part of the process. It’s a search for connection, and it’s a recurring theme across Evergreen In Your Mind; the polarity between stillness and passion, also our resistance to these desires, and the things we want to live and experience.

The album’s title-track and fist single feels indicative of this narrative. A gorgeous, delicate folk song, it finds Habel out in the woods, hiding from real life, caught in the space between the natural world and the pull of modernity. “It’s nostalgic. It’s about looking back and realizing things will be different,” Habel says. “Its about visualizing something beautiful in your head that you keep clinging onto.”

The album cover for Evergreen In Your Mind also adds shimmer. A striking photograph of Juni among the mountains, it was taken on a day trip to Rondane, a five-hour drive each way from her home. Habel explains. “It was awe-inspiring to drive all the way up into the high mountains, with its wide plains and intense colours. For an album with music that at times likes to hide itself, I think it fitted nicely with such an epic, grand, and powerful landscape.”

"Fans of Nick Drake, Karen Dalton and Neil Young will find much to enjoy in this musical equivalent of an evening spent alone by the fireside.” The Times

In recent years, Midge Ure has spent his time playing live and not has time to fully immerse himself in the studios creating music To that end A Man of Two Worlds is his first album of new material in 12 years. Well worth the wait, the album is a formidable collection of outstanding music, divided into two clear parts.

The first half, World One: Music, consists of eight instrumental pieces, while the second half, World Two: Songs, features eight vocal songs. This concept was partly inspired by the time Midge spent during lockdown listening to instrumental music whilst presenting THE SPACE on Scala Radio. Hearing music that rarely finds a home on mainstream radio, he set about making something without lyrics, where the melodies had to speak for themselves. The eight vocal songs which form the second part of the album, came to Midge as the world reopened. A more divided world, in many ways a much harder and less empathetic one. Sharing an atmosphere with the preceding instrumentals, these songs are incredibly sparse and meditative, and whilst they are subtle, with some songs dealing with the frailty of the human condition, underlying many songs reflect Midge's concerns for the discord infecting world today.

A new EP by Extrawelt is always something special, as they continually manage to reinvent themselves while remaining unmistakably true to their sound. The a-side „Moonster“ of their latest record forms a subtle and almost magical bridge to early musical influences such as Immortal Coil, Chris & Cosey, The Cure, and Throbbing Gristle.
In doing so, they reclaim, or rather reintroduce, a powerful, mystical element into their music, one that is integrated so naturally it feels as if it has always been an essential part of Extrawelt’s sonic DNA. Beyond that, the track unfolds through numerous facets, constantly shifting and evolving. Just when you think it is settling into a familiar direction, small variations emerge, keeping the piece remarkably alive and unpredictable.
You can clearly sense how much fun Extrawelt had working on this track. It is bursting with ideas, energy, and vitality, radiating a playful confidence that makes it endlessly engaging.

The b1 track „Bettermaker“ takes a different route, dedicating itself entirely to a single mood. Through subtle pitch bending and a carefully shaped tonal palette, the track unfolds with a slightly eerie, enchanted atmosphere.
From beginning to end, „Bettermaker“ remains focused and unwavering. There are no breaks or dramatic shifts in direction, instead, the piece commits fully to its initial setting. A monolithic, almost mantra like motif forms the core, creating a distinctive ambience, mystical, shadowy and faintly oriental in character.
This atmosphere is carried and reinforced by percussive, ethno inspired drums, which add an organic, ritualistic pulse. The result is a hypnotic soundscape that draws its strength from consistency and depth rather than contrast, inviting the listener into a secluded, otherworldly space.

The final piece of the EP „Popcorn Forever“ reveals another side of Extrawelt’s thinking. The track unfolds like a curious experiment in motion. Instead of building toward a predictable climax, sounds are gradually tossed into an ever running loop fragments, textures and small rhythmic ideas appearing almost casually, as if the piece were assembling itself in real time.
At first the elements seem loosely connected, sometimes abstract, sometimes slightly mischievous in the way they twist and bend. It almost feels like an impossible construction task. But Extrawelt’s experience quietly guides the process. Bit by bit the scattered parts begin to communicate with each other.
Repetition becomes the hidden engine. With every return of the loop new details slip into the structure, and what once appeared random slowly starts forming relationships inside the listener’s mind. The track never forces a clear explanation, yet the brain begins to tie the loose ends together almost automatically.
Popcorn Forever therefore works beautifully as a kind of transit piece within the EP. It moves between ideas, linking moods rather than closing them off. In typical Extrawelt fashion, the result is playful, slightly surreal and full of subtle discoveries that reveal themselves over time.

Laurel Halo returns with an album of original soundtrack music, composed for the film Midnight Zone by visual artist Julian Charrière. Following the path of a drifting Fresnel lighthouse lens as it descends through the Clarion-Clipperton Fracture Zone — a remote abyssal plain in the Pacific Ocean, rich in rare metals and increasingly targeted for deep-sea mining — the film traces a descent into one of Earth’s last untouched ecosystems.


Charrière’s film reveals the deep not as void, but as a luminous biome teeming with fragile life: bioluminescent creatures, swirling schools of fish, and elusive predators. The suspended lens becomes an abyssal campfire, attracting species caught in the tides of uncertainty, their futures hanging in the balance.


Echoing this tension, Halo’s compositions evoke a sensory freefall, where gravity falters and light and sound flicker in uncertain rhythms. Midnight Zone is a sonic drift through the space between what we seek to extract, fail to understand, and must protect.


Halo’s score evokes the life that exists beyond our physical airbound capacity. The material features long, subtle passages of electro-acoustic ambient, drone and sound design, slowly flowing and unfolding with rich detail. The music, composed largely on a Montage 8 synthesizer and Yamaha TransAcoustic piano at the Yamaha studios in New York City, possesses an uncanny quality: that of synthetic waveforms being amplified and sung through the stringboard of the physical body of the TransAcoustic piano. Combined with stacks of violin and viol da gamba, the music on Midnight Zone possesses trace elements of a human hand in an otherwise sunken landscape. Patient, submerged, and alive. The album will be the third on Halo’s imprint, Awe.


The film is central to Charrière’s current solo exhibition Midnight Zone. The exhibition engages with underwater ecologies, exploring the complexity of water as an elemental medium affected by anthropogenic degradation. Reflecting upon its flow and materiality, profundity and politics, its mundane and sacral dimensions, the solo show acts as a kaleidoscope, inviting us to dive deep.

After months of working exclusively on his own repertoire, Matmatah is slowly recovering from his 30th birthday by returning to his first love: covering other people’s songs !
Because Matmatah comes from there, from the steamy atmosphere of bars and clubs.
Back in the day, they played loads of covers. Oh yes, they certainly did.
So why not put a few of them together on an album?
It’s a must, isn’t it?
Except that… There are many ways to record an album of covers.
The band could have taken the easy route and covered the songs they loved in their early days. But that would be to misunderstand these lads. They needed to come up with a proper concept to justify such a project.
They came up with two:
To tackle styles that are diametrically opposed to their own, so they could better make them their own.
To broaden their linguistic repertoire and experiment with different sounds.
The result is a rich, joyful and socially conscious collection of 20 songs, written between the 18th and 21st centuries and performed in no fewer than 10 European languages. A fine tribute to the continent’s diversity.
To spice up this project, they’ve brought in the whirlwind that is Fanny Gillard on vocals for ‘Eisbär’ and ‘Putain Putain’, the powerful voice of Morgane Mercier on the eerie ‘Alison Gross’, mentor Patrick Marie for a space-age ‘Kan Ha Diskan’, and the immense Kevin Camus on the uilleann pipes and whistle for ‘The Winner Takes It All’.
Matmatah takes a wild ride, travelling across Europe and through time, having fun and cheekily reworking songs he never imagined he’d play.
Find the lynx!

Red Axes step into the fabric presents series with a release that feels both inevitable and deeply personal. Known for their hypnotic, psychedelic approach to club music, the Tel Aviv–based duo bring a narrative-driven sensibility that aligns seamlessly with fabric’s legacy of long-form storytelling and forward-thinking curation.

Across years of performances at fabric and other key global institutions, Red Axes have developed a reputation for sets that unfold patiently and unpredictably, drawing dancers into a world where groove, tension, and atmosphere take precedence over genre or trend. Their contribution to the fabric presents series reflects this ethos: a carefully sculpted journey that prioritises mood, momentum, and emotional depth, while remaining firmly rooted in the physical language of the dancefloor.

Formed by Dori Sadovnik and Niv Arzi, Red Axes emerged from Tel Aviv’s underground with a sound shaped by post-punk, acid, krautrock, and cosmic disco influences. Over the past decade, they have built a catalogue defined by raw textures, twisted melodies, and a distinctly human looseness, qualities that translate as powerfully in the club as they do on record. Their releases and remixes for labels such as Phantasy, Correspondant, Running Back, Dark Entries, and Permanent Vacation have established them as artists who consistently operate just outside the expected.

As DJs, Red Axes are celebrated for their ability to stretch time on the dancefloor, weaving obscure selections, unreleased material, and leftfield classics into slow-burning, trance-inducing narratives. This approach has seen them invited to venues and festivals including Panorama Bar, De School, Bassiani, Dekmantel, Sonar, and Primavera Sound, where their sets are defined not by peaks alone, but by the tension built between them.

With the forthcoming fabric presents Red Axes release, the duo deliver a statement that captures years of shared musical intuition and a deep respect for the club as a communal, transformative space. It is a mix that rewards close listening as much as physical immersion, a snapshot of Red Axes at their most focused, expressive, and uncompromising.

To mark the launch of their forthcoming fabric presents album, the duo unveil the lead single, “Hot Rod To Hell”, a bold reworking of Man Parrish and Roy Garrett’s 14-minute spoken-word electro epic, reimagined through Red Axes’ signature psychedelic lens.

Stripped back and refocused, the original’s narrative tension is transformed into a hypnotic, downtempo house track built for late-night immersion. A rolling, elastic groove anchors the track, while pulsing low-end, subtly warped synth lines, and tightly controlled percussion create a sense of slow, smouldering momentum. The spoken vocal elements drift through the mix like fragments of memory, lending the track a ritualistic, cinematic quality without overwhelming the dancefloor.

Cathartic avant-rock, literate DIY folk & experimental composition exploring displacement, love, climate change, belonging & the places we call home - RIYL Jim O’Rourke, Richard Youngs, This Heat, Richard Dawson, Flying Nun. ‘Real Home’ is the new album by the Manchester-born, London-based artist Kiran Leonard. His sixth album proper (not including innumerable tour-only CD-Rs and short-run cassettes), since his precocious debut in 2013, ‘Real Home’ finds Leonard invigorated by inspiration and experience, making passionate, literate, and mercurial music that explores displacement, love, memory, climate change, connections to home and more. Encompassing songs recorded after moving to South London, ‘Real Home’ reflects on ideas of belonging and domesticity through folkloric, stream-of-consciousness songwriting. Across nine tracks, Leonard traces lived impressions of the household and the city, expressing sentiments of dislocation, alienation and stasis, but contentment too. Infusing the avant-rock effervescence, terraced dynamics and visionary lyricism of his music with what he defines as a greater sense of openness, Leonard is as versatile, fervent and imaginative as ever on ‘Real Home’, yet his music is somehow more intimate, affecting, and acutely expressive. Shaped by dual considerations of simplicity and formalism, ‘Real Home’ is by turns beautiful, allusive, and ruminative, an album on which Leonard considers what his songs have resembled in the past and what they mean now. In recent years, Leonard has crafted eloquent chamber music inspired by the likes of James Joyce and Clarice Lispector (‘Derevaun Seraun’), responded to contemporary politics and communication breakdown in the digital age (‘Western Culture’), and compiled solo works and ensemble recordings for a longform ode to Jonas Mekas and to one of Leonard’s enduring themes; home (‘Trespass On Foot’). On ‘Real Home’, Leonard reiterates this abiding thematic focus yet ascends to new, different heights, in music of cathartic delicacy and dissonance where all the myriad dimensions of his work to date seem to crystallize. There are sinuous songs about struggle and defying the pace of city life through drift and diversion (‘Pass Between Houses’), stirring songs of intense feeling and crescendo, described as a form of speculative detective fiction (‘Theatre for Change’). There are touching solo piano ballads (the title track), symbolic contentions with carbon capture and climate change (‘Utopia of Bog’), modes of experimental minimalism (‘Void Attentive’), and other profuse feats of compositional range, embroidered with wild tendrils of narrative and lyrical depth. A record to pore over, and get lost in. Exemplifying the vast aesthetic scope of Leonard’s music, lead single ‘My Love, Let’s Take The Stage Tonight’ is inspired by country lodestar Hank Williams, Russian poetry and a late period love poem by William Carlos Williams. Yet for Leonard, the song signals a sense of accessible materiality, and is the product of a more linear approach to writing songs: “My imitation of the great Hank Williams, in spirit if not in substance…This is one of the best efforts on Real Home at a song-as-object. Looking at it now I realise I was trying to write a song that made itself known as a song to the listener, and I wonder whether that’s crucial if you want a song to transcend its context. And that this is either accomplished through a total openness – by being inviting, by laying the tricks of the song out plain to see, as Williams and his many ghostwriters did so well – or by adopting a knowing aloofness, positioning oneself against the listener but letting it be known that that’s what it’s doing. In this song I try both, but mostly the former: as in, I wanted to write a song where every line follows on from the next.” Imbuing the endlessly elaborate and inventive qualities of his music with a newfound streak of candid, clear-cut melodicism, Leonard has reached a special place in his artistry, on a record that feels familial, and expresses closeness. Assembled with affiliates including Lauren Auder, Otto Willberg, Jasper Llewellyn (caroline), Tom Hardwick-Allan (Shovel Dance Collective), Magda McLean (caroline, The Umlauts), Alex Mckenzie (caroline, Shovel Dance Collective), Isabelle Thorn (Dear Laika) & more, the recording process had a significant influence on the subject matter of ‘Real Home’, in sessions defined by close-knit camaraderie and artistic eccentricity: “The theme of the home obviously recurs throughout the record; the album was mostly recorded in domestic spaces with friends, and the name of the album is Real Home. I like the qualifier ‘real’, like you’re getting past the cloak of the word and towards the thing-itself…also nearly all the percussion in this record was recorded on items from my dad’s shed (jam jars, sandpaper, blocks of wood, etc). Real home record!” ‘Real Home’, like anything by Kiran Leonard, is a record of dazzling multiplicity. Yet it’s a companionable prospect with a central premise; a collection of songs where listeners old and new can find a home. An album led by a scene; of Leonard standing at the threshold, ready to welcome you inside. “Exceptional songs that linger” - The Guardian // “An autodidact of amazing talent & energy” – Pitchfork // “A ridiculous amount of talent…confrontational, celebratory, provocative or perverse – he manages all of these emotions & more” - The Quietus /

A century-old grand piano, a secluded house surrounded by the greenery of Brittany, no internet connection, and a reel-to-reel recorder.L'Écho de Bretagne, the new EP by Niklas Paschburg, set for release from fall 2025 via Nettwerk Music Group, is a solo piano record as essential as it is intense. An album made of silences, space, slowness. A music that doesn't chase impact, but truth.

the album release is march 26th - 2026.

If his previous work, Mexican Alps (2025), marked the first time the German composer and producer created an ambient-electronic album without his instrument of choice, the piano, L'Écho de Bretagne emerges as a direct response to that absence. "It was exactly the lack of piano that brought about the need for this new record, which instead puts that instrument, so vital to me, at the very center, stripping everything else away," Niklas explains.

Born in 1994, Paschburg has shaped over the years a musical path deeply connected to travel, nature, and introspection. From his debutTuur Mang Welten(2016) toOceanic(2018),Svalbard(2020),Panta Rhei(2023), and the aforementionedMexican Alps— alongside soundtracks, remixes, and collaborations with artists like RY X, Hania Rani, Ásgeir, and Bryan Senti — his sound bridges neoclassical, electronic, ambient, and pop-driven composition.

WithL'Écho de Bretagne, the Hamburg-born, Berlin-based musician continues his exploration by seeking solitude in nature, much like he did onSvalbard, but this time with an even more radical choice: disconnecting completely from the internet, and switching off both computer and smartphone for a while, in order to fully immerse himself in his new music. "I rented an old cottage in Paimpol, Brittany, where I knew there was a grand piano," he recounts. "When I got there, I discovered that not only was the piano more than a hundred years old, but it was also of an unknown brand, never restored, and quite difficult to play. But that gave it a unique character, and I didn't give up. Sure, it was an instrument left to its own fate, I couldn't play anything too fast. But how fascinating was that? I'm convinced that setting limits, instead of giving yourself total freedom when composing, can become an extraordinary source of inspiration."

As for the decision to temporarily detach from a life that demands we stay constantly connected, Niklas describes it as both a creative and human experiment. "I had my laptop and phone with me, just in case, but I kept them turned off. That choice made me wantL'Écho de Bretagneto be a fully analog work, even in how it was recorded." A way of clearing the mind. "I don't think I've ever been as calm as I was during those days in Paimpol. Even though I was working on a very specific project and didn't have much time, that period was more relaxing than any vacation."

Not that it was free of hiccups. "I'd borrowed a reel-to-reel recorder small enough to travel with me, but after recording a session on the piano, I realized it wasn't working properly, the sound was distorted, full of crackles. I got worried, because I wasn't near any big city where I could find a technician. Luckily, I figured out the problem was the old tape reels I had brought along. That was the only time I had to go online, to order new ones. But it was just for a moment. I shut everything off again right after." At that point, Niklas was waiting for the new tapes to arrive. He found out, completely by chance, from a local UPS courier that they had been delivered to a nearby village. "Since my phone was off, I couldn't track the shipment. So one day I asked this delivery guy, who didn't know anything about it. But from that point on, we'd see each other daily and talk… That's what being disconnected also means: reconnecting with people around you, even strangers. It was thanks to that courier that I found out where the tapes had ended up. And he even helped me get them back, writing directions for me on a scrap of paper."

But there's another element that makes this new EP unique.L'Écho de Bretagnewas recorded entirely live; its tracks are all improvised, complete with their imperfections. This approach leads to a sound that is pure, profoundly organic, and deeply authentic, intentionally preserved to give the listener the feeling of a live performance happening in their own living room. The touch of fingers on the keys, the breath of the wood, the tension of the vibrating string, all become part of the music. There is no construction, only expression. "Even now, when I listen back to it, I feel that moment I gave myself to step away from everything: from reality, from words, from noise." The result is a collection of suspended melodies and atmospheres, reflecting a state of the soul. A refuge from the rush of time. A pause from the world.

Nevertheless, the latest album from Hammock, exists in a state of awakening. Across 11 ambient guitar string, and piano works, ethereal light crests and contrasts with darkness, giving shape to physical forms and feelings. Amidst sorrow and grief, melodic motifs and refrains echo from the past to reanimate dreams and faded memories. As Nevertheless asks questions of permanence and purpose, beauty takes shape in the intangible_the traceless connections that gave, and give, meaning. "Nevertheless has been one of those words that has outlasted my upbringing," says Hammock's Marc Byrd. "Being from the deep South, I most often heard it said or read at funeral services. It's meant to imply a type of sacred pause . . . a space of in between. Between the grief of being broken by the world and the impossibility of moving into a future that feels more like empty space and less like solid ground. This album is for a friend who lost a daughter and a son to addiction within a couple of years of each other. Requiem for Johan sets up the context for what is to follow throughout the rest of the album. . . a passage through the aftermath of devastation. Unfortunately, and fortunately, these seasons of loss are what we all share in common. Nevertheless . . . we limp on."

Death Is Not The End collaborate with Uzbek label Maqom Soul to deliver an LP counterpart to last year's mixtape of the same title, compiling specially picked & fully licensed individual belters from the ex-soviet studios of Central Asian republics between 1978 and 1989 - incl. Uzbek, Tajik, Kurdish & Uyghur artists pulling traditional folk motifs together with pop & rock and psych elements.

"These recordings do not form a smooth or coherent history. They feel more like a sequence of discoveries made at different moments and in different circumstances. Songs and instrumental pieces that once lived inside specific contexts radio broadcasts, philharmonic programs, touring routes now sit side by side, revealing hidden connections as well as clear fractures between them.

Nasiba Abdullaeva appears here as a voice from the end of an era. Trained within a conservatory system, she worked inside the format of the Soviet pop song while filling it with melodic logic that did not come from Moscow or Leningrad. Her voice is soft and sustained, shaped by Eastern melisma, and it never functions as decoration. Even in tightly structured songs there is a sense of resistance, an effort to preserve a musical language rooted in Uzbek tradition rather than fully adapted to an all Union standard.

The ensemble Sintez, later renamed Navo, represents a different path. Beginning as a student rock group, the band was gradually absorbed into the official VIA system with all its limitations and compromises. Yet it was precisely within those boundaries that Sintez and Navo developed a recognizable sound. Electric guitars and jazz rock harmonies do not overpower the folk material but remain in tension with it. Their recordings feel like negotiations between what the musicians wanted to play and what they were allowed to perform.

The Tajik ensemble Gulshan reflects an institutional approach carried to a high professional level. Formed under television and radio structures, the group treated folk material almost as a written score. Carefully constructed arrangements, close attention to orchestration, and restrained use of pop techniques define their sound. There is less spontaneity here, but a strong sense of discipline and structure, where national melody becomes part of a carefully controlled sonic framework.

Koma Wetan occupies a very different space. Formed in the 1970s, this Kurdish rock group approached poetry and folklore as tools of cultural assertion. Their psychedelic rock never feels like a stylistic borrowing. Instead it functions as a contemporary vessel for language and themes that might otherwise have remained unheard. Even today these recordings sound fragile and stubborn at the same time.

The Uyghur ensemble Yashlik, closely connected to a musical drama theatre, operated somewhere between stage performance and popular music. Their songs are built on folk melodies but shaped for wide audiences. What emerges is a constant attempt to preserve the recognizability of Uyghur musical identity without freezing it in a folkloric frame. Yashlik's music exists in a state of balance between representation and development.

Digging Central Asia does not attempt to establish hierarchies or offer a single wayof listening. Names and dates matter less than the sound itself. Tape noise, abrupt transitions, and unexpected timbres remain part of the material rather than flaws to be corrected. This music existed at the crossroads of multiple routes geographic, cultural, and ideological. Heard today in a new context, it no longer feels peripheral. Instead it stands as a reminder that the history of popular music is far more fragmented, layered, and polyphonic than it is usually allowed to be."

Repress

The Godfather of Hardcore, Marc Acardipane, needs no introduction. His outstanding releases over the past 30 years speak for themselves. He has been instrumental in helping to create electronic music history, with countless well-known productions which have been unsurpassed by any other artist of this calibre. His timeless masterpieces have been and always will be heard at hardcore raves spanning the circumference of the Planet. With "9 Is A Classic", "Slaves To The Rave", "Pitch-Hiker", "Stereo Murder" and "We Have Arrived", just to name a few, he clearly proves who's the boss. "The Most Famous Unknown" is a well compiled collection of Marc's music, which showcases a mere portion of what he has composed and produced since the early nineties! The vinyl and digital selection of "The Most Famous Unknown" features remixes by Body Sushi a.k.a. VTSS & Randomer, Dasha Rush, Gabber Eleganza feat. Delirio, Jasss, Kilbourne, Minimum Syndicat, Nina Kraviz, Perc, Solid Blake, Stranger, Umwelt and VTSS, which all deliver excellent interpretations of tracks they have chosen to revamp. All original tracks have been re-mastered to the highest possible standard of quality.

Kēpa is built whole, even if life has broken a few bones along the way.

Back when he was a pro skater, he gave everything to the board. Today, he gives that same intensity to the stage, delivering hypnotic cine-concerts where motion, sound, and image blur into one. The only falls left now are the ringing final chords of his guitar — not just an instrument, but an extension of his body.

Fingerpicking is his native tongue. So much so that Kēpa no longer sings — he lets the strings speak. Percussive, alive, essential. This music isn’t about performance, it’s about living: a personal quest, a way to reach others by first going inward. Moving against the current without fighting the wind. Finding breath, essence, and remembering we’re all drifting on a spinning planet, surrounded by forces bigger than us.

It’s easier to look away. Easier to follow noise, fear, or false prophets. Harder — and braver — to truly connect.

Released in late 2025, Hotline Service opened the door, offering a wide-open, spiritual escape. With SOUL WASH SERVICES— produced by Timber Timbre — Kēpa goes further. Warmer, deeper, more focused. The album feels like sunlight on asphalt, a long drive with the windows down, time slowing just enough to let something real surface.

A kindred spirit to Hermanos Gutiérrez, Kēpa plays the role of a modern, pagan preacher — guiding us through a dusty, golden road movie that unfolds entirely inside the listener. His music doesn’t shout; it cleans.

Kēpa does it all: writes, plays, films, edits, mixes. Music becomes image, image becomes music. Nothing is separate, on record or on stage. There’s no excess, no showboating — just an open invitation to slow down, go deeper, aim higher.

Tracks like Solarium and Paradisiac reach the peaks with minimal gear: five strings, a few picks, and total control of touch and space. Listening to Kēpa feels like checking in with yourself — a quiet inner trip shaped by sounds from every corner of the world. Blues, not to feel them, but to leave them behind.

After years devoted to picking, his playing has become something sacred.

And if you let it, it carries you with it.

"PRONTO" is the debut album by ARYA, an Italian-Venezuelan artist who grew up in Milan. ARYA arrives with this first full-length album after the EPs
Peace of Mind (2021) and Punto Zero (2023), collaborations (Mahmood, Venerus, Ghemon, Dardust, Calibro35, and many others), and an intense live
activity, which have made her one of the most interesting voices on the Italian neo-soul/R&B scene.
Born from a personal journey of therapy and awareness, "PRONTO" takes shape as a concept album, transforming the emotional investigation into a
coherent and layered musical narrative. The title captures the meaning of the project: "Pronto" is a word that crosses all the languages present on the
album—Italian, English, and Spanish—taking on different meanings ("subito," "presto"), and is also the first word uttered in the intro. A term that introduces the listener to a space of availability, anticipation, and presence.
The entire album was produced by Claudio La Rocca (Sup Nasa), a key figure in building the project's sonic identity. Giuseppe Seccia, Matteo D'Ignazi,
Martina Tedesco, Tiziano Codoro, Stefano De Vivo, and Giulia Gentile also contributed to the album, recording the instrumental parts and contributing
to the arrangements and production of some tracks.
With "PRONTO," ARYA takes the listener on a journey through different levels of her emotional history, until the elevator starts moving again and leaves room for a new possibility of balance.
ARYA (AryaDelgado) is an Italian-Venezuelan artist born in Milan in 1994. Daughter of salsa singer Orlando Watussi, she grew up surrounded by music
and quickly developed a sensibility that blends Latin roots, nu-soul, and contemporary R&B, with a strong focus on the emotional and narrative dimensions of her writing. In 2021, she released her debut EP, Peace of Mind, followed in 2023 by Punto Zero. These releases attracted press attention
and led to collaborations with artists such as Mahmood, Venerus, Ghemon, Dardust, and Calibro35. Over the years, she has consolidated an increasingly recognizable presence, alternating songwriting, solo production, and an intense live schedule in Italy and abroad. In 2024, she accompanied Mahmood on tour and released the single, "Si Potesse Tornare." In 2025, La Noche En Que Te Fuiste and Onda were released, songs that marked the
beginning of a new artistic chapter and anticipated the release of “PRONTO,” her debut album, released in February 2026. An intimate and layered
work, which focuses on vulnerability as a language and confirms ARYA as one of the most personal and aware voices of the new Italian soul scene.

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

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

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

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

First time reissue of JP free jazz rarity, pre-Seikatsu Kōjyō Iinkai group.

The single album self-released by the quartet Shūdan Sokai in 1977 is one of the most vital documents of mid-seventies Japanese free jazz, documenting Tokyo’s free scene at the precise moment when it began to shift to a handful of tiny venues on the western fringes of the city. In Free Jazz in Japan, Teruto Soejima identifies the extant venue Aketa no Mise in Nishi-Ogikubo as the pioneer of this decamping from the centre: a cramped basement beneath a rice shop, seating just 20 people. Musician-run, operated on a shoestring, these spaces offered a vital site for community, creativity, and a small measure of financial independence — “even though it was in a basement, in spirit it was a loft.”

Among the most active of the new venues was Alone in Hachiōji, nearly an hour from Shinjuku, in a district shaped by universities, lower rents, and a thriving counterculture. Originally opened in 1973 as a jazu kissa, Alone was unusually spacious and equipped with a stage, grand piano, and drum kit. Around 1974, Junji Mori and Yasuhiro Sakakibara began working there, booking free jazz players on weekends and establishing the venue as a crucial hub. Mori recalls early appearances by figures including Kazutoki Umezu, Toshinori Kondo, and others who would define the scene.

In early 1976, Umezu and pianist Yoriyuki Harada — recently returned from New York’s loft jazz environment, where they had played with musicians such as David Murray and William Parker — formed Shūdan Sokai with Mori and drummer Takashi Kikuchi. The name, meaning “mass evacuation,” pointed to their self-chosen exile in Hachiōji. With Alone as their home base, the quartet developed a music characterized by an infectious sense of enjoyment and a willingness to integrate free jazz with elements of song structure. Harada switched between piano and bass; the group experimented with rap-like vocal pieces, jabbering nursery rhymes over bass rhythms.

They returned to Alone on December 24 to record Sono zen’ya (Eve), releasing it on their own Des Chonboo Records, partially funded by advertisements from local businesses printed on the rear cover. The closing “Ballad for Seshiru,” dedicated to Harada’s newborn son, unfolds over a delicate piano melody that moves into emphatic chords as intertwining alto lines rise and spiral.

Alone closed in September 1977, and Shūdan Sokai soon dissolved, later morphing into the expanded Seikatsu Kōjyō Iinkai Orchestra. What remains is a recording rooted in a specific place and moment: a fiercely independent scene sustained by small rooms, close listening, and collective commitment.

Nicaraguan-American artist Dagmar Zuniga makes music that feels both intimate and expansive: songs drift like disrupted signals, carried by harmony, tape hiss, and a strong sense of touch. Her debut solo album in filth your mystery is kingdom / far smile peasant in yellow music — written and recorded in New York, Norway, and Athens, Georgia over a period of five years on her longtime companion, the Tascam 424 — was uploaded to Bandcamp and YouTube in January 2025, quickly garnering over two hundred thousand views and the attention of artists such as Mount Eerie, who invited her to tour with them that summer. This year, what was once a jewel of tapped-in algorithms and message boards will meet the world at large, with in filth arriving digitally on March 4, and physically on April 10, via AD 93.

in filth is an atmospheric, devotional collage where one voice multiplies into a chorus of selves, sometimes delicate, sometimes severe; an effect created by Zuniga’s masterful layering of texture and complex harmonies. Synths glitter out like spears of sunlight from beneath clouds of moody, time-distorted guitars, and songs spin about themselves like tightly-wound music boxes, making use of a kind of hypnotic repetition, before melting apart into their components or slipping into the following track.

Zuniga began recording to tape as a teenager, drawn to the physicality of the medium — how a tape recording is fragile, mutable, and alive. Though her ethereal sound may draw easy comparisons to other female pioneers of psychedelic folk, she is influenced just as much by the darker sounds of Syd Barrett and The Fall. Like Barrett, Zuniga is a painter, and she is interested not only in recording music but in creating a full, self-contained artistic universe: she creates her own artwork, merchandise, music videos, and bootleg tapes of new and unfinished music that she exclusively sells at live shows (“If something is not material, it does not exist,” she insists). Her world has not gone unvisited, garnering her a monthly show on NTS Radio ‘World of Pain’, as well as a forthcoming appearance at Rewire Festival in April 2026.

Though Zuniga’s work explores themes of solitude and suffering, the suffering in her songs is not borrowed or displayed; it is held, then opened outward through empathy — an exacting practice of attention that insists on shared ground. Solitude, in her work, is not withdrawal but a starting point for connection. Likewise, over time, her recording process has become increasingly communal, with in filth featuring musicians Hayes Hoey, Austyn Wohlers (Tomato Flower), and Zach Phillips (Fievel Is Glauque). Newer recordings widen the circle even more. For Zuniga, collaboration is a way to “find a place between worlds,” echoing Badiou’s idea of love as a vision refracted through the prism of difference. Meaning emerges there — in the space between voices, between artist and listener. “I hope my music helps people work through difficult experiences,” she says. “The same way it helps me.”

A cocktail of rebellious queer vocal fragments, deceptive percussive granules and swaying hammered vibrations, upsammy and Valentina Magaletti's first collaboration trembles with suspense. The seeds of 'Seismo' were sown following a commission from Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum to soundtrack an exhibition of work from the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen in Rotterdam and the duo didn't want to approach their collaboration flippantly. So, wandering the museum's maze of rooms, they recorded various improvised percussive sounds with their arsenal of microphones, using the space to inform various rhythms and textures that were sculpted later into electroacoustic vignettes. This was just the starting point, though; as Magaletti and upsammy began performing together, the project evolved and 'Seismo' began to take shape. The duo had struck on a salient aesthetic concept, using mostly digital and acoustic mallet instruments to blur the boundary between their roles and create friction between the synthetic and the authentic. And the finished record is a phantasmagoric push-and-pull between its various conflicting elements: harmony and dissonance, randomness and predictability, openness and constraint. 'Seismo' isn't the first time that upsammy has studied her environment in search of revelation. On her acclaimed second album, 2024's 'Germ in a Population of Buildings', the Amsterdam-based DJ, producer and multidisciplinary artist erected her complex, unorthodox rhythms and eerie melodies around a modernist frame of field recordings collected in various cityscapes, countering heavyweight basslines with subtle, microscopic sounds. London-based Italian vanguard Magaletti, meanwhile, has applied her unique logic to innumerable projects at this point, working with everyone from batida icon Nídia and hardcore-dub outfit Moin to French writer Fanny Chiarello and British bass scientist Shackleton. For years she's approached the drums with criticism, attempting to challenge any preconceptions, something that's most visible on 2020's 'A Queer Anthology of Drums'. And both artists' thoughtful perspectives are welded together seamlessly on 'Seismo', a dizzying suite of eight eccentric statements that's fragile but never insecure, gauzy but not indistinct. An unnerving sense of space characterizes 'It Comes to an End' as Magaletti's in situ improvisations herald for upsammy's microscopic glitches and chiming pitch-bent melodies. It's almost unbalancing to witness the track's impossible dimensionality, the interplay between reverberant marimba hits and bone-dry synths, or percussion that's been recorded and processed in consciously different settings. A new architecture emerges in the sound itself that the two artists scan and explore meticulously, testing its boundaries with undulating hybridized rhythms on the invigorating 'Superimposed' and offsetting the powdery drums with liquified smacks and alien voices. The duo's vibrations are knotted with piano flourishes on 'Hyperlocalize', balanced with artificial clanks and clangs that disappear into the track's sonorous atmosphere, replaced by whispers and half-hallucinated insectoid chirps. 'Seismo' is an album that feeds off the energy generated by its juxtapositions: the tension and anticipation that's melted by rapid, hyperactive movement and the finely drawn rhythms disrupted by a layer of indistinct, barely perceptible microsounds. It's a collaboration that sounds like two minds challenging each other but not wrestling, each peering from their own distinct vantage point and imagining a third landscape shaped by optimistic, queer vibrations.

On Psalm Funk, Bnnyhunna deepens the artistic language he first articulated on his celebrated debut Echoes of a Prayer. Rather than retracing familiar ground, the Amsterdam-based composer and producer expands his palette, allowing rhythm and space to carry as much narrative weight as harmony and lyricism.

While Echoes of a Prayer felt personal and devoted, Psalm Funk opens things up. Gospel harmonies stay central to his music, but now they are energized by smooth funk rhythms and heightened by the flexibility of jazz improvisation. Bnnyhunna moves between styles effortlessly, in a way that nothing seems borrowed, but everything feels lived in.

At the center of the record is an understanding of space. Silence acts not as an absence but as a structure. Breath, restraint, and patience shape the music just as much as basslines and backbeats. This awareness of dynamics allows the album to grow without losing its focus. It signifies a subtle but important change in Bnnyhunna as an artist, moving from inward reflection to forward momentum, from prayer as personal dialogue to prayer as a physical expression. The clarity, discipline, and emotional depth that marked his debut remain, now directed into something more rhythmically confident and spiritually uplifting.

Fusing gospel, funk, jazz, and African rhythmic traditions, Psalm Funk serves as both a meditation and an outpouring. It invites deep thought while demanding a physical response.

The album includes collaborations with American saxophonist Braxton Cook, trumpeter Sheila Maurice-Grey of Kokoroko, 3DDY, and Reggie Dartey, among others. The singles "Sorry Not Sorry" and "Waiting For You" have already hinted at the project's range, while the latest single, "The Heart Part 2," further expands on the album's dynamic and emotional scope.

To celebrate the release, Bnnyhunna will tour the Netherlands in April, with performances in Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and Nijmegen before heading to the UK for a show at The Great Escape.

Released in October 2024, Bnnyhunna's debut album Echoes of a Prayer was created as a dialogue with God, a personal call expressed through sound. The record resonated both with fans and media, gaining support from platforms like 3voor12, Rolling Stone Africa, and Afromixx. It reached the airwaves of BBC Radio 1 in the UK, KEXP in the US, J-Wave in Japan, and 3FM in the Netherlands, and landed in playlists such as BUTTER, Morning Rhythm, and Vanguard.

In 2025, Echoes of a Prayer earned the Edison Pop award for Soul/R&B/Funk and received Grammy consideration for Best Alternative Jazz Album. On stage, Bnnyhunna established his presence with performances at festivals such as Lowlands, Couleur Cafe, Brick Lane Jazz Festival, Dour, and Super Sonic Jazz, as well as his first tour in Japan.



Upcoming live shows:
10/04/26 - BIRD, Rotterdam (NL)
11/04/26 - Doornroosje, Nijmegen (NL)
12/04/26 - Tolhuistuin, Amsterdam (NL)
13/05/26 - The Great Escape, Brighton (UK)

Broadside has never been a band to stay in one place for too long—musically or otherwise. The Richmond, Virginia-based band has spent the past decade carving out their own space in the pop rock scene. Drawing influence from The Killers, AFI, Kings of Leon, and Taking Back Sunday, their sound seamlessly fuses nostalgic rock energy with a fresh, modern edge. Their evolution has been nothing short of remarkable, taking them from underground favorites to genre staples, all while embracing the idea that growth and change are not just inevitable but necessary. With Oliver Baxxter (vocals), Domenic Reid (guitar), and Patrick Diaz (bass/backup vocals) at the helm, Broadside has built a career on crafting music that feels both deeply personal and universally relatable.

Their last full-length album, Hotel Bleu, served as a bold chapter in their story, using the transient nature of hotel stays as a metaphor for self-reflection, fleeting moments, and personal reinvention. The album marked a significant milestone in their career, amassing over 100 million streams and standing as their boldest, brightest, and most ambitious work to date. Now, as they prepare to enter their next era, the band is gearing up to release their most dynamic music yet, continuing to evolve while staying true to the energy and authenticity that first captivated listeners.

Broadside has never been a band to stay in one place for too long—musically or otherwise. The Richmond, Virginia-based band has spent the past decade carving out their own space in the pop rock scene. Drawing influence from The Killers, AFI, Kings of Leon, and Taking Back Sunday, their sound seamlessly fuses nostalgic rock energy with a fresh, modern edge. Their evolution has been nothing short of remarkable, taking them from underground favorites to genre staples, all while embracing the idea that growth and change are not just inevitable but necessary.

With Oliver Baxxter (vocals), Domenic Reid (guitar), and Patrick Diaz (bass/backup vocals) at the helm, Broadside has built a career on crafting music that feels both deeply personal and universally relatable. Their last full-length album, Hotel Bleu, served as a bold chapter in their story, using the transient nature of hotel stays as a metaphor for self-reflection, fleeting moments, and personal reinvention. The album marked a significant milestone in their career, amassing over 100 million streams and standing as their boldest, brightest, and most ambitious work to date. Now, as they prepare to enter their next era, the band is gearing up to release their most dynamic music yet, continuing to evolve while staying true to the energy and authenticity that first captivated listeners.

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

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

"BLUNTS ROLLED" GSF13 the first posthumous release of unheard music by RAS-G'. Eighteen raw transmissions: unreleased beats, remixes, loops & smoky spacecraft meditations arranged in true mixtape spirit exactly as RAS envisioned them. This isn’t a vault dump, it's RAS_G in full form - unfiltered, joyful, psychedelic & rooted in the low end theory.
"BLUNTS ROLLED" continues the ASP mission: connecting hood to heaven, ancient to future, earthly to astral. These sounds crackle with cosmic dust & Cali sunshine - grounded in LA soil, projected into Saturn’s rings. Featuring transmissions from ASP family Kahil Sadiq, The Koreatown Oddity, Zeroh, and even G himself... voices and energies orbiting each other in intimate, galaxy-folding, head-nodding, fronto-scented universes.

Portland-based krautrock band Motrik formed in 2013, its four members united by a pledge to modernize their beloved genre. Sharing a passion for pioneers like Can, Kraftwerk, and Trad Gras Och Stenar, the group has demonstrated its ability to deliver over a series of EPs and albums, most recently 2020's acclaimed Artificial Head. As they continue to experiment by incorporating additional influences ranging from funk and jazz to psych and prog Motrik's third full-length, a double LP titled MOON: The Cosmic Electrics of MOTRIK, is a further continuation in the story of an historic genre befitting of the album's cosmic artwork.

Motrik boldly takes full advantage of the space that four sides of vinyl allow on this latest offering. The middle of the album features two long suites that feel typical of the groups dynamic live performances, which frequently feature fog cannons, lasers, and other prop homages to Kraftwerk and company. The 13-minute "Stabilize" emerges from a haze of synth pulses and guitar tones, settling into a steady NEU!-like chug that swells and recedes like an ecstatic wave. On "Space Elevator", the motorik drive from which the band take their name evolves into an insinuating and sensual disco-like throb before the perfect proggy comedown in the final minute.

Salix is a bold new departure for modular synthesist Loula Yorke, seen here using an antique reed organ to explore the ancient roots of willow trees in magic, myth and medicine, as well as inviting another musician into her recording studio for the first time, clarinettist Charlotte Jolly.

The EP forms a sonic archive of a singular instrument: an antique free reed organ left behind by a previous encumbent of Asylum Studios, (the artists' co-operative in Suffolk where Yorke's Truxalis labelmate and life collaborator, Seiche, has a studio space). The organ is in poor condition and fascinatingly, painfully detuned. Yorke's recordings bring out its host of unusual quirks exacerbated by age and neglect: the powerful rhythmic creaking of the wooden treadles; the bone-shaking resonance emanating from its body at specific pitches; unexpected exclamations of harmonic collision from within the carcass redolent of a human voice; the piercing, shrieking whistles of broken reeds, and the powerful timbres unlocked via Yorke's experiments with various combinations of stops.

The three tracks that form Salix are inspired by a local weeping willow tree, a constant companion photographed over the course of a year. Boughs caught in a gyre. A maiden in mourning. Branches that gesture in the wrong direction. A tree turned upside down. A hand-woven willow basket, an old technology to gather and store. The journey of a lovelorn bard through the underworld, a bundle of willow under one arm for protection.

For the opening track, The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction, Yorke recorded herself playing a simple unaccompanied improvisation on the organ, the only ornamentation being the processed sounds of the keys being struck and returning to their positions.

For Bundle of Styx, a spell of protection is cast and then broken. Yorke invited virtuoso clarinettist Charlotte Jolly into the studio to test combining the breathy textures of both brass and natural reeds, the instruments uniting and obsuring each other in turn during this one-take improvisation. The organ's unpredictable sharpened tunings take centre stage here, with Jolly using them as a point of departure to conjure a set of peerless harmonic improvisations live in the moment. Throughout the improvisation, Yorke, a self-taught musician, unpracticed on the organ, supports and challenges, freely admitting that she's not always sure what effect her decisions to move up and down the keyboard or pull out certain stops will have. Jolly's genius lies in her ability to meet and build on every uncertain pitch thrown her way, saying of the experience, "I love that Loula isn't classically trained, I can't predict at all what she's about to do."

For the final track, With the Red Dawn, Yorke has come up with another unique combination of textures, this time bringing her own specialism in modular synthesis to the fore. A ten-minute reed organ drone characterised with ever-shifting bass swells and overtones is layered with tuned sines, often shudderingly wave-folded, that ebb and flow both in intensity and harmonic colour according to the duty cycles of eight interrelated LFOs. These recordings are collaged with Yorke's singing voice and a langorous, ascending sequence across two octaves on Jolly's clarinet, all arranged to form a cohesive whole far greater than the sum of its parts. Smatterings of untuned percussion and a fragment of a conversation between the duo left in the final mix cements Yorke's unprecious DIY aesthetic into the release.

At its heart, Salix is like watching the wind in the willows; hundreds of thousands of identical tiny leaves moving in confluence on its branches; at once one thing and many things; moment-to-moment our perception makes out different individuals parts within this expanse of texture, before sinking back into the whole.

Special Friend have become the masters of weaving elegant and sophisticated pop musical webs while staying true to their low-fi indiepop roots. The French/American duo (Guillaume on guitar and vocals, Erica on drums and vocals) manage to create a sound like no other band. When they play live, audiences marvel at the huge, intricate structures the band construct, while falling in love with the crystal-clear vocal melodies that are threaded in between the shards of guitar and the rattle of the drums. How can a duo achieve so much? UK audiences will be able to ponder this question in March: Special Friend are coming over from France to do a substantial tour of the UK. These shows are highly recommended!
The new album is more diverse that the last, with the high-tempo indiepop of first single ‘Breakfast’, the majestic, Yo La Tengo-like dreampop of ‘Clipping’ and the country-ish, gentle, homesick melancholy of ‘Isolation’. Final track ‘OOO’ is a bold piece of Krautrock-inspired experimentation; ‘Mold’ is a beautiful slice of slowcore and opener ‘Paint A Picture’ is modern pop at its catchiest and most direct.

‘Clipping’, the album title, refers to the discipline of pruning growth back, removing dead wood to create a perfectly shaped tree with abundant blossoms: an accurate description of the album, and of the songs that hang from its elegant branches. The album artwork is by Erica: Special Friend are in control of every aspect of this elegant artefact.
‘Clipping’ was recorded in 2025 at Studio Claudio by Alexis Fugain and Margaux Bouchaudon. Set in an isolated rural environment conducive to immersion, the band had seven days in the studio—significantly more than for previous records—allowing for greater care in the recording process, particularly for vocals and arrangements. Several tracks feature synthesizers and organs, acoustic guitar, and even an electric bass on “Sanctuary,” a first for Special Friend. Overall, the record benefits from a more developed and detailed production while preserving the band’s direct approach and spontaneity.

The album was mixed by Syd Kemp, who has worked with artists such as Thurston Moore, Ulrika Spacek, Caroline, Crack Cloud, and Vanishing Twin.
Special Friend’s previous album on Skep Wax, ‘Wait Until The Flames Come Rushing In’ was an underground hit, with a significant amount of airplay in the UK and in the US.
‘Clipping’ is a co-release with Howlin Banana Records and Hidden Bay Records (both in France). Skep Wax is proud to present the album in the UK and in North America.

The track shows SUEP at their best - glistening synth pop with Marr-esque jangle, sweet but emotionally incisive. Singer Georgie Stott - also known for being the keyboardist of the recently ended Porridge Radio - is at peak performance, marrying catchy melodies with off-kilter storytelling.
Receiving acclaim across BBC 6 Music and the indie press for their ‘car boot sale’ pop music, SUEP rummage through the jumble bin of music history, selecting and reassembling its best parts into something playful, strange and deeply artful. The band are affiliates of the Gob Nation collective - including The Tubs, Sniffany & The Nits, Ex-Void, and others., described by the Guardian as uniting around “a leftfield sensibility, lacerating wit and snotty attitude.”

With a slightly darker edge than their delightful EP Shop or last year’s groovy The Rain, Highway II tells the story of hope slamming into disappointment - a Valentine’s date gone wrong. Tears, cigarette breaks, running makeup and snotty sleeves paint a picture of painful emotional dislocation. It comes with an incredible, multilayered dance-routine music video from frequent collaborator, artist Jess Power.

Singer Georgie Stott says: “The lyrics for this poured out of me on Valentine’s Day when me and my partner went out on a date in the Limehouse area, over the river from where we lived in Rotherhithe. I got drunk too quickly, he got grumpy, and tears started streaming down my face because I just wanted to have a nice romantic time. We made up in the Canary Wharf Wetherspoons at the end of the night, but I went to have a cigarette before, to get out all my sobs and wrote all the lyrics on my phone in one go. Then at a practice studio we quickly wrote it around some chords I made up in the room.”
Forever is a confident debut, a masterpiece of modern indie songcraft. Across the album SUEP dip into country, synthpop, garage rock, post punk, and pub rock, but always retain their signature penchant for melodic hooks, snappy structures and straight-to-the-heart lyrics. Artfully unpretentious, the album was recorded by friend Matt Green, best known for his work with The Tubs, and mixed by Mike O’Malley of the band caroline.

Led by Georgie Stott and Joshua Harvey, SUEP have become fixtures of south-east London’s underground through a series of shared living spaces, improvised studios and DIY venues. Now with George Nicholls (The Tubs, Joanna Gruesome, GN Band), William Deacon (PC World), and Louis Forster (The Goon Sax, Expiry) completing the line up, their debut is finally on its way.
Forever is a glimpse into one of the best bands on the scene, not fitting into any trend, but also never fading into obscurantism - SUEP are a band that wear a joie de vivre loosely but fashionably. Now is their time to shine.

Manfredi Romano, founder and A&R of Life and Death Records, has been a pivotal figure in electronic music for over two decades. This year marks an important milestone as he is invited to curate the upcoming fabric presents mix for fabric Records, a release that highlights his instinctive storytelling and the distinct musical identity he has cultivated throughout his career.

Manfredi’s journey began in Italy around the turn of the millennium, tour-managing punk bands and organizing left-field music events before completing his studies in computer science at the University of Pisa. He went on to form DAZE, Italy’s first booking agency dedicated exclusively to electronic music, laying the groundwork for what would become a globally influential presence in the scene.
In 2010, he shifted focus to his own artistic project, DJ Tennis, which quickly gained international recognition for its emotive blend of house, techno, and disco. Renowned for creating intimate atmospheres in even the largest spaces, DJ Tennis has performed at leading clubs such as Circoloco Ibiza, Fabric London, and Panorama Bar Berlin, and at major festivals including Sonar, Timewarp, Primavera Sound, and Coachella. His 2022 residency at Phonox in London further showcased his ability to shape dancefloors with nuance and depth. Since 2017, he has also co-founded and curated Rakastella, the celebrated Art Basel Miami festival created in partnership with Life and Death and Innervisions.

As a producer, DJ Tennis draws from early relationships with post-rock pioneers such as Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Tortoise, and Fugazi, channelling their influence into intricately layered electronic compositions. His work has appeared on respected labels including Kompakt, Rhythm Assault, Running Back, !K7, Cercle Records, Aus Music, and Circoloco Records, alongside frequent releases on Life and Death. His remix portfolio includes collaborations with Diplo, Boys Noize, Loco Dice, WhoMadeWho, and Acid Pauli, among many others. He has also previously contributed a DJ-Kicks mix, bringing his eclectic sensibilities to one of electronic music’s most beloved series.

After extended periods living in Miami, Berlin, and Barcelona, DJ Tennis now resides in Paris. Outside the studio and club environment, Manfredi is a passionate chef who has curated menus for charity events and collaborated with Beatport at ADE, Pioneer, and Resident Advisor. He is also an avid collector of bicycles, vintage action figures, and vinyl — his record collection now surpasses eleven thousand pieces.

With the forthcoming fabric presents DJ Tennis release, he offers a deeply personal, narrative-driven statement that reflects decades of crate-digging, boundary-pushing selections, and a lifelong devotion to sound. It marks a new chapter in his artistic evolution and stands as one of the year’s most anticipated entries in the iconic series.
The first single from DJ Tennis is a collaboration with long-time studio partner Ashee, and it immediately sets the tone for the mix: warm, seductive, rhythm-driven, and emotionally charged.

“I Wanna Know” is a sleek club track built around a pulsing groove and a steady, hypnotic rhythm. The low end is rounded and warm, giving the track a driving but understated momentum. Percussion is crisp and minimal, allowing the bassline and vocal elements to take center stage. The repeating, robotic earworm of a vocal hook, “I wanna know’ is the lynchpin to the track and will remain in your head long after the track has finished.

It’s the kind of record that warms up a room early in the night, sets the tone for a sunset beach set, or adds a lush, emotional peak during a more leftfield club moment.

Born in Douarnenez, at the far edge of Brittany (France), Komodor has quickly established itself as one of the most vibrant names in the French rock landscape. Their high-energy rock, fueled by fuzz, sweat, and vocal harmonies woven in the spirit of MC5 and T. Rex, immediately drew attention: Rolling Stone, Rock & Folk, Libération and Rock Hard Germany all praised the fiery impact of their debut album Nasty Habits (which sold over 2,000 vinyl copies). Since then, the quintet has mostly lived on the road: a long European tour, followed by the larger-than-life saga of Komodrag & The Mounodor, carrying them to stages such as Hellfest, Les Vieilles Charrues, and the Francofolies de La Rochelle, among many others.

Their second album, Time & Space, reveals a band in full metamorphosis. Without abandoning the explosive force that defines them, Komodor widens its scope: volcanic riffs, more sinuous grooves, mist-laden harmonies, psychedelic flashes… The energy is still wild, but more inhabited, more liberated, almost ceremonial at times. The record opens with two telling bursts: Bliss & Joy, a libertarian charge with the feel of a manifesto, and Soul Tricker, a rock incantation where trance overtakes sheer electric assault. Two sides of the same coin, pulled taut between urgency and enchantment.

On stage, Komodor remains a true shockwave, forged across European festivals (Freak Valley, Motocultor, Fête du Bruit, and more) and now awaited at the legendary Desertfest London. Their music feels made for such spaces: a visceral, flesh-and-amp kind of rock, drawing from the seventies’ heritage to speak even more vividly to the present. A band moving forward at full volume, without nostalgia or calculation, carried by a simple conviction: as long as the amps are hot, rock can still burn.

In short: Komodor is the band of friends from Douarnenez bringing pencil-and-paper rock into the streaming age while preserving its analog soul (with the album mastered at the legendary Miraval Studios), the smell of warm tubes, the grain of vinyl. With this second album, they hit harder, truer, and more vividly than ever.
Time & Space stands as a “must-have French rock record”, a tangible piece worth cherishing in any collection.

Born in Douarnenez, at the far edge of Brittany (France), Komodor has quickly established itself as one of the most vibrant names in the French rock landscape. Their high-energy rock, fueled by fuzz, sweat, and vocal harmonies woven in the spirit of MC5 and T. Rex, immediately drew attention: Rolling Stone, Rock & Folk, Libération and Rock Hard Germany all praised the fiery impact of their debut album Nasty Habits (which sold over 2,000 vinyl copies). Since then, the quintet has mostly lived on the road: a long European tour, followed by the larger-than-life saga of Komodrag & The Mounodor, carrying them to stages such as Hellfest, Les Vieilles Charrues, and the Francofolies de La Rochelle, among many others.

Their second album, Time & Space, reveals a band in full metamorphosis. Without abandoning the explosive force that defines them, Komodor widens its scope: volcanic riffs, more sinuous grooves, mist-laden harmonies, psychedelic flashes… The energy is still wild, but more inhabited, more liberated, almost ceremonial at times. The record opens with two telling bursts: Bliss & Joy, a libertarian charge with the feel of a manifesto, and Soul Tricker, a rock incantation where trance overtakes sheer electric assault. Two sides of the same coin, pulled taut between urgency and enchantment.

On stage, Komodor remains a true shockwave, forged across European festivals (Freak Valley, Motocultor, Fête du Bruit, and more) and now awaited at the legendary Desertfest London. Their music feels made for such spaces: a visceral, flesh-and-amp kind of rock, drawing from the seventies’ heritage to speak even more vividly to the present. A band moving forward at full volume, without nostalgia or calculation, carried by a simple conviction: as long as the amps are hot, rock can still burn.

In short: Komodor is the band of friends from Douarnenez bringing pencil-and-paper rock into the streaming age while preserving its analog soul (with the album mastered at the legendary Miraval Studios), the smell of warm tubes, the grain of vinyl. With this second album, they hit harder, truer, and more vividly than ever.
Time & Space stands as a “must-have French rock record”, a tangible piece worth cherishing in any collection.

"Since their formation in the latter half of 2023, Berlin’s Industry have quickly emerged into the foreground as one of the more exciting groups of the European DIY punk scene. Having released their 2024 debut LP, touring and playing festivals all over the continent, they are now back with a follow up record that’s every bit as bruising and bleak as the first.
Much has been made of how ‘on point’ Industry sound - a mid-paced cocktail of heavy toms and churning riffs recalling ‘No Sanctuary’ era Amebix or classic Killing Joke. But Industry use these sounds as a springboard rather than a template, utilising the form for genuine expression where others are tempted by retro cosplay. Their sound is pared back, pulsing, relentless but danceable. But it’s the words that result in a listen that’s engaging from start to finish, an album that’s both expressive and polemic. Just as people often describe Discharge’s lyrics as Haiku, Industry uses the band’s repetitive grooves as a wide-open canvas on which their exasperated observations are given space to land with precision. The litany of criticisms are familiar to us all - violence exacted on the poor and vulnerable by those in power, the ongoing industrialised slaughter of humans and animals, the disastrous consequences of colonialism, the list goes on… The world in 2025 is fucked, and even though they say they ‘can’t even look’, this band has got their eyes wide open."

From the depth of transient memories comes ‘Some Leaves Must Fall 聽其自然’, Temple Rat’s latest EP and the inaugural release for Martin Gilleshøj’s ‘Buttheads’ label.

Across 6 tracks Temple Rat distills fragments of spatial memory, merging conceptual ambience with the mystic, spatial, and driven edges of deep trance and hypnotic techno. A pensive and functional synthesis, one played out like an ode to the sustained.

Through 2024 while moving between Berlin and Sichuan, Temple Rat conceptualized and finished ‘Some Leaves Must Fall 聽其自然’. At its core, the work is an exploration of how the personal memory of cities and their particular acoustic environments can be transmuted in musical form. For these places, altered by the passing of time and the shifting of contexts, mirror the fluid and generative nature of sound itself.

Creatively this approach was borne out in a kind of archaeology of sound: by sampling and capturing auditory fragments Mei was able to preserve otherwise fleeting moments of experience. Sonics which not only embodied the emotions of the present but served too as a mechanism of recall, pulling memory back into focus even against the erasures of time.

In its method this project seeks to transform the sonic textures of urban and natural environments into high-energy dance tracks, exploring the tension between the certainty of space and the uncertainty of time. A tension operating not only within the structural logic of the sound itself, but so too as an affective experience, extending into the listener’s body and perceptual field.

For we are not the first to note that in a world of pervasive temptation and fragmented information, sustained listening has become rarified. Through this project, Temple Rat hopes to counter this tendency; to encourage a deeper mode of listening that restores attention, re-establishing our essential connection with the present.

All music is written, recorded, arranged, and produced by Temple Rat aka Yuxin Mei
Mastered by Giuseppe Tillieci at Enisslab
Distributed by One Eye Witness


Period Music is a research process involving Susanna Gonzo, Merma Suelo, Tuce Alba, Elizabeth
Gallon Droste, Agnese Menguzzato, and Farah Hazim. The six artists aim to attune to the different
temporalities experienced through our bodies, drawing from multiple meanings of period – from the
menstrual cycle to musical repetitions and astronomical revolutions.

r'tu
A central meaning of the Sanskrit word for ritual, r'tu, is menstruation, the original ritual. The root of
r'tu is in arithmetic and rhythm/.

Period Music has been staying with essential matters on how we listen to time and rhythms in our
bodies and in the world. Questioning the tempo of everyday life in an accelerated system like that of
modern society, the group has opened up co-creation spaces to listen to embodied memories.
Through dialogue, improvisation and jam sessions, the six artists attuned to e ach other’s processes,
composing music, word scores and drawings – ultimately sounding together.

This work embodies other notions of community through archetypes, embracing the impermanence
that reveals the countless rhythms of life. Period Music speaks of friendship and connection, and
invites you to take on a journey of interconnectedness between our rhythms and the broader social
structures influencing our lives.

The project emerges from conversations that began in Berlin in the fall of 2023, including a one-week
residency at Atelier Josepha in Ahrenshoop by the Baltic Sea in April 2024. The first physical iteration
of this project will consist of a book and a vinyl. The album features looping improvisational compositions encoded with messages about multiple temporalities. The accompanying book gathers poetic memories, letters, photographs, symbols, and drawings that emerged during the process