Cerca:this that

The long-awaited vinyl re-issue of ‘Hawk’ from Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan.
Isobel Campbell (ex-Belle & Sebastian) and Mark Lanegan (ex-Screaming Trees, Queens of the Stone Age) third album Hawk, will be reissued on November 6th on LP and CD.

Hawk builds on the critical acclaim of 2006’s Mercury Prize-nominated Ballad of the Broken Seas and 2008’s Sunday at Devil Dirt, solidifying the duo's signature dynamic—Campbell’s ethereal, whispery arrangements juxtaposed against Lanegan’s deep, gravelly baritone. Written, arranged, and produced entirely by Campbell, Hawk was recorded across studios in Scotland, England, and the United States. The 13-track record expands their sonic palette far beyond classic country-folk, venturing into dusty Southern soul, garage-rock stomps, and soaring gospel arrangements. "With this record, I wanted to stretch the canvas further," says Isobel Campbell. "Mark and I have built a true shorthand together over the years, which gave us the freedom to push into heavier grooves, raw blues, and sweeping orchestral textures while keeping the core intimacy intact. Album Highlights & Key Collaborations "You Won't Let Me Down Again" — The album’s lead single, driven by a hypnotic rhythm and featuring a searing guitar solo from former Smashing Pumpkins guitarist James Iha. "Come Undone" — A moody, slow-burning Southern soul ballad showcasing Lanegan at his most vulnerable. Townes Van Zandt Covers — Faithfully rendered versions of "Snake Song" and "No Place To Fall," the latter featuring guest vocals from American singer-songwriter Willy Mason. "Lately" — A cinematic album closer that swaps the pair's vocal interplay for a rousing, brass-tinged gospel choir.

The unconscious element to the conscious process.

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

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

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

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

Dub:

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

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

Push the mixer into the red.

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

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

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

Carelessness.

Noise:

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Miles

Hailing from the West side of St. Louis, Missouri, Mikahl Anthony’s sonic roots spread far across the global Alt-Soul / Hip-Hop scene. A highly soughtafter multidisciplinary artist (who has collaborated with the likes of Mick Jenkins, Chance The Rapper, Joey Purp, Smino and more), as well as being a founding member of Chicago’s THEMpeople collective, he now prepares to unveil his masterful full-length debut Muse via R&S Records.

Accompanied by several beautiful, self-directed film pieces, Muse is a record with storytelling at its core. Interspersed with commentary from a range of sources telling their stories to Mikhal, whilst collaboratively analysing their personal experiences, it speaks a candid and honest narrative, which reinforce the heartfelt lyrics within. With the project’s name anchored around a dual meaning acronym (1. Ms. Using sensual energy and 2. Making use of seclusion every day). The record is an audio version of docufilm, that creatively interprets the idea of self-therapy, an internal/interpersonal reflection of life experiences that serendipitously connect to Mikahl’s personal romantic relationships. Mikahl explains: ‘I wanted to use a unique style of songwriting, arrangement and filming with the intention of soundtracking my self-development/maturation process’.

On the project’s lasting impression on the listener, Mikahl elaborates ’The exploration of inner truth and vulnerability is key to the future of good music. I want this project to act as symbolism that highlights the mantra that honest approaches and authenticity still has the most value. I also want people to see how important the use of community is when you can connect them to your subject matter...I'd like my audience to observe and engage in their own self-reflections, approaches by way of listening or interacting with the story.’

Drifting to an elevated state of consciousness, Muse is a deeply intoxicating and engrossing listening experience from front to back. From the sliding, kaleidoscopic shadows of opening track ‘La Flare’, via the trepidation-laced atmosphere of ‘Polyamorous’ and the hazy, reverb drenched saxophone notes of LP closer ‘Eddie Kane’ - Mikahl channels moments of joy and pain, infused with spirit enriching instrumentation and gritty textures.

Visual stimuli play an integral role within Mikahl’s music. His songs represent transparency and openness dipped in funk. Layers of soft velvety vocals emerge from jazz harmonies, trap rhythms, and social commentary sourced from voiceovers/excerpts. His creations are the musical representation of documentary films. His art is imagery embodied.

Gradient returns to Alt Dub with Random Layers, a deeply focused EP built around his exceptional control of minimal elements.

With a restrained palette of kick, bass, chords and texture, each track evolves with patience and precision, allowing subtle shifts and carefully placed layers to create a powerful sense of depth and space

Sound layers are introduced with such control that the music evolves naturally, revealing its depth over time. Nothing feels rushed and nothing is unnecessary.

Gradient’s productions have a rare ability to make minimalism feel rich and alive. Nothing is excessive; every sound has a purpose. The result is four timeless, immersive dub techno pieces that balance classic dub techno atmosphere with a distinct sense of detail and control.

The EP also features a timeless remix from Echospace Detroits CV313, One of the most respected figures in the deeper end of dub techno, he brings his unmistakable sense of space and depth to the release, making this a particularly fitting and exciting collaboration.

Elegant, restrained and deeply atmospheric, Random Layers is another strong statement from Gradient and a perfect fit for Alt Dub.

maya ongaku has always been searching for what exists just beyond the edge of perception. Since forming in the seaside towns surrounding Enoshima, the trio has followed a path guided less by intention than intuition, allowing songs, ideas, and experiences to emerge through a process they describe as 自然発生 (shizen hassei), spontaneous occurrence. Nothing Space Music is the deepest expression of that philosophy to date.

Written in the aftermath of several years of international touring, the album emerged from a growing desire to reconnect with silence. As stages became larger and the world around them moved faster, the band found themselves drawn toward the quieter spaces beneath it all. What began as a reflection on stillness & silence eventually expanded into the idea of "Nothing Space". To realise the album, maya ongaku created an entirely new environment for themselves. Near a seaside shrine in their hometown, the trio transformed a large soundproof building into Nothing Space Studio, a space built specifically around the needs of this record.

Nothing Space Music: a meditation on presence, perception, and the possibility of rediscovering the world through attentive listening.

Code Zero lands on Dream Nation imprint. This three-tracker EP is the kind of record that appeals most to fans of the late-1990s and early-2000s underground European sound rather.

Gnod's now twenty year journey through spiritual and audial exploration has been driven by relentless curiosity, magpie irreverence and a fierce countercultural imperative, their project has always refused to acknowledge all or any rules and boundaries, internal or external. The latest adventure of this band may never have been intended to celebrate their two-decade anniversary, but in true Gnod fashion by, what began as a trip into a residential studio setup in Hellfire Studios with producer John `Spud' Murphy (Lankum, Black MIDI, Caroline) for six days, resulted in more potent material than anyone bargained for. The end result has been three studio albums to be released over the next year. "This trilogy revealed itself to us in the studio" says Paddy. "We were hoping to get a good album out of the session and lo and behold we got three of the fuckers. It's interesting that we did pretty much capture the full spectrum of the Gnod sound across all three". In fact, this intrepid first instalment of the `Chronicles Of Gnowt' trilogy covers an alarming amount of sonic territory all on its own. Driven as always by the power of repetition as well as Gnod's alchemical marriage of the maximal and the minimal, this album is imbued with a vivid focus that's testimony to the chemistry of the sessions, coupled with a detailed and spacious production from Murphy that brings out the psychedelic sound worlds of the band in vivid colour. This is a travelogue which delves into pastoral tranquillity (as on `Three Trees Parts 1&2') just as adeptly as expansive Earth-tinged riff monoliths (`All Tunnel No Light') and just as formidably as the closing epic `Ekstasis' - a hallucinatory vista where kraut-tinged experimentalism meets Swans-style intensity. Yet all the while, truly sounding like no one but Gnod.

Explore the deep roots of Afro Funk with the 7" vinyl "Jungle Bird Tree" by Funky Destination, carefully released by the eclectic label Sound Exhibitions Records. This sonic gem is a testament to Funky Destination's skill in blending Afrocentric rhythms with the vibrant spirit of funk, creating a musical experience that captures the soul and gets the feet moving.
Jungle Bird Tree by Funky Destination is a musical journey that bridges the past and the present, an immersion into the rich tradition of Afro Funk through the fresh and innovative perspective of a contemporary artist. An unmissable addition to the collection of those who appreciate the fusion of global rhythms and the compelling power of funk.

Solid Groove hits naughty 40 and marks the occasion by serving up some 90s and 00s cuts from this and the Mysterious Dark label that have been hard to pin down ever since. 'Straight Ahead' is a loose-limbed and percussive tribal jumble, ''Dark 4' is fizzing, Basic Channel-style dub techno and 'Travel' is a grainy, textured deep techno cut that loops back and forth and causes your mind to wander amid the dewy pads. Previously CD-only track 'Dawn Over The Blue Planet' from Aubrey's Liquid Funk LP on Offshoot also makes its vinyl debut and is a brain-soothing deep house jam with stray melodic twinkles and an Omar-S style groove.

Five years on from its first outing, Standards & Practices returns with a second volume of Out of Practice that assembles a roster of exclusive, unreleased material that moves between broken techno, electro, dub techno and bass-heavy experimentation. The strength lies in its range: in this third 12" instalment, Patrick Russell's opener brings meditative dub pressure, Ghost Warrior's 'Second Wave' is a sparse, suspensory underwater world, Pessimist layers deft percussion into fractured rhythm science and Blood Music's 'Figures For Laser' has a cascade of 8-bit melodies adding futurism to jazzy, off-grid drums in what is an eerie and engaging closer. A snapshot of a label finding new ways to bend electronic music's tried and tested boundaries.

2026 Repress

Symmetry is proud to announce the arrival of Solid State Vol. 1 - a special vinyl release from Break. Due to popular demand, we’ve compiled four standout tracks, including some fan favourites that until now were only available digitally.

The EP brings together a serious collection: Release Me, which hit number 1 on Beatport; Overstayed, Symmetry’s highest selling tune on Bandcamp; alongside two more heavyweight cuts, All You Gotta Do and Zodiac.

Pressed and presented in physical form, Solid State Vol. 1 is both a collector’s piece and a must-have for DJs - and this time it’s something you can hold in your hands.

If you're looking for some hi-fidelity techno that is about atmosphere and sound design as much as muscular rhythmic power, this one is for you as Standards & Practices returns with more thoughtful tackle across three EPs. Electro, half-time, dub and breaks are all chucked into the mixer here with Karim Maas opening with the unsettling emptiness of 'Positive Beliefs.' Stave & Grebenstein's 'Live Room' is a collage of texture and static with only the merest suggestion of rhythmic form, and Sandwell District offer a supple and deep techno vision on 'Le Coq Sportif.' Negative Affect's 'Sleep Walker' has menacing swagger to shut down a proper decent selection.

Straight up dancefloor heat again with this monster from Armand Van Helden plus the original disco track that was jacked on the back!

*Limited edition (500) reissue of The Orchids second album – originally released on Sarah Records in 1991- remastered with the 7” and E.P tracks from the time. Translucent pink*
“The Orchids have a lightness of touch, an autumnal and mellow fruitfulness, a clear-eyed pop nous. Imagine some nexus that takes in Felt, Orange Juice, The Beach Boys and The Go-Betweens”
-Stuart Maconie

“The Orchids can come on like esoteric angels high on Felt and Massive Attack”
– John Mulvey, NME

The early summer bloom of 1992 felt like it had been pollinated by a lot of sunshine-loving records from the year before, optimistic headrushes that embraced hedonistic bliss or at least a sweeter ride. There was still an element of bedroom wistfulness to singles like Higher Than The Sun, Nothing Can Stop Us and even Paris Angels’ Perfume but there was no denying the appeal that techno, rave and Bleep held, especially when it was microdosed. Bands were more willing to experiment with technology and producers, if not necessarily going for all whistles-blazing club bangers.

The Orchids, hailing from the suburbs of Glasgow were unlikely to ever emerge from their hood as contenders for a deal on Soma Records (which had begun in 1991 in that city) but they evidently wanted to stretch their boundaries beyond their introverted debut. Unholy Soul is somewhat breezier than Lyceum. It’s still laced with a Scottish melancholy but there’s more breathing space within the production. They’d hinted as much on their 12” ‘Penetration’ EP from 1991 and lovelorn songs such as Waiting For The Storm and Peaches are now spiked by absent-minded cherubs with an ear for the 3.a.m comedown.

As lead singer James Hackett says today: “Unholy Soul was the first time we had spent more than a couple of days in the studio, doing so after work. It was a thrilling period of creativity and we had most of the songs written but not enough. We didn’t worry about that too much though because with Ian Carmichael there was a new opportunity for studio generation. Also this was the first time we had heard Pauline (Hynds) singing with One Dove so we asked her to sing on some of the songs. We were obviously influenced by a lot of the music of the time but you can still hear it’s The Orchids at heart”.

The next year of course One Dove (with Carmichael programming) released their debut album - produced by Andrew Weatherall - on the Boy’s Own label. It felt like there was a lot of ideas being spun back and forth between artists and producers in the early 90s. If some of the records also sound very much of that time that’s no bad thing either. There was a lot of loved-up nostalgia for the 60s then so it’s no surprise that many of the records have a youthful exuberance coupled to a technological innocence, that’s the charm.

The method is instability.

— Violeta Garcia & Hora Lunga

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

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

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

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

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

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

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

In 2024, Audrey Powne emerged as a compelling new voice in contemporary jazz with the release of her acclaimed debut album From the Fire; a self-produced and self-composed work celebrated for its lush string arrangements, soaring trumpet performances, and emotionally rich songwriting. Now, two years later, Powne returns with Bodies of Water, a bold and deeply introspective follow-up that continues her elemental exploration: from fire to water. An exploration of what it means to exist alongside others in an increasingly unstable world, Bodies of Water reflects on vulnerability, responsibility, and human interconnectedness. The album’s title and conceptual foundation were inspired by a passage from Caleb Azumah Nelson’s novel Small Worlds: “...to make himself a body, like water, a still surface, but beneath this, a ripple, and beneath this, an ebbing tide, and beneath that, a violent, constant tow…” Throughout the record, lyrics ruminate on the idea that like all bodies of water, we are vulnerable to disruption and catastrophe. Unlike inanimate bodies of water, however, we are conscious participants in both the damage and the repair. That tension between what we are made of and what we are responsible for became a grounding and harmonious thought. This album is a meditation on that idea, both in my personal life and in a broader, collective sense. Swollen, Broken Record, and Karma, reflect on moments of cruelty and error including her own that felt unbearable. Viewing them instead as forces moving through the landscape of a life, violent but temporary to survive their immediate impact. More socially conscious tracks Stay Awake, Creeds, RYV, and Two Sides confront frustration with political polarisation and the emptiness of language unaccompanied by action. The title and final track Bodies of Water brings these ideas together, reimagining both personal and societal upheaval as events shaped by bodies of water moving through the world destructive at times, transformative at others, and always in motion. Blending traditional jazz with Afrobeat rhythms, Dilla-inspired grooves, ambient textures, and expansive arrangements, Bodies of Water reveals the breadth of Powne’s artistic vision. The record moves fluidly between spiritual jazz, warped soul and rhythm-driven experimentation, while layered interludes and meticulous production thread its disparate influences into a unified and immersive sonic world.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Courant Zéro is the new moniker of Montréal multi-media installation artist and Kohlenstoff label co-founder Maxime Corbeil-Perron, signalling his return to purely recording-based electronic music production following several years focused on award-winning experimental film and audio-visual works. Solari channels his cinematic sensibility and decade-long exploration of sound art and electroacoustic counterpoint into deep cuts of maximalist ambient electronica. Drawing on his early background as a pianist and jazz drummer, Corbeil-Perron weaves a fabric of melodic and rhythmic vectors with his unique timbral palette, intersecting modern composition, IDM, ambient, glitch, and noise on a debut album brimming with sonic detail and emotive resonance. A fixture of Montréal's sound art community as both creator and curator since the early 2010s, Corbeil-Perron's work has ranged from "hypnotic A/V onslaught" (FACT Magazine) to the "richly nuanced acousmatic journey" of his 2018 EP Polychrome (Bandcamp Best Contemporary Classical Of The Month), with earlier electronic and techno-adjacent projects like Political Ritual, Dresden, and Le poisson d'argent garnering accolades from avant-music outlets A Closer Listen, Silence and Sound, and Musicworks, among others. Courant Zéro mobilizes this cumulative wealth of explorative sonic experience in the service of distinctive compositional architectures and electronic music pathways that fans of Floating Points, Jan Jelinek, Squarepusher, Tim Hecker, and Oneohtrix Point Never should find compelling. Title track "Solari" opens the album with a cavernous ambient glitch-drone soundscape that envelops ever-shifting timbres of modular arpeggiation, serving as introduction to the clarion call of "En deçà du réel", an homage to video artist Manon Labrecque, where layers of interweaving melodic counterpoint played on Buchla and other synths slowly build to widescreen immersive intensities; "I have this vision of Labreque vibrating eternally between two frames of magnetic VHS tape_ the slow pace of the piece also inspired by Tarkovsky's approach to scenography" says Corbeil-Perron. "Strange Aorta" is ectoplasmic ambient with wistful melody lines transmuting along a central filament, awash in shifting waves of low-end and ricocheting tonal glitch, the title a reference to "the thumping rhythm beating around the main melody_and the heavy remnants of grief related to my father's passing and a brutal confrontation with my own mortality a few years back." Tracks like "La peau des dents" and "Eroding Us" are more firmly rooted in electroacoustic and aleatory systems music, where colliding loops are shaped into unstable flows of deconstructed slippage and reconvergence. Those two pieces bookend the album's pivotal center: the gorgeous piano digitalia of "Horizon n'arrête" and the skittering electronica of 9-minute opus "Unyeldd", its loping broken beat and cascading melodic glitter like a cluster of wind-up music boxes in a dappled forest _ and for Corbeil- Perron also partly inspired by now fellow Constellation labelmates Do Make Say Think: "I spent a lot of time rediscovering their records after seeing them last September 2024 which definitely influenced this piece." Courant Zéro's debut is a vibrant sonic rebus at the junction of electronic, electroacoustic, noise and ambient music that resists easy categorisation. Solari strikes a compelling balance of unsettled disorientation and hospitable warmth, teeming with real feeling throughout. The album's cover art painting Cryptography I by Yen-Chao Lin represents this prevailing sensibility, its mazelike circuitry distinctly carved and crisply rendered, while filigreed with handmade detail and artisanal patina. Thanks for listening.

By 2004, dub had a history stretching back more than thirty years. This remarkable longevity can easily be explained by the evolving nature of this musical genre, which is constantly changing both artistically and technically, from Kingston to London, New York, and more recently Berlin, Paris, Lyon and Saint-Étienne. For example, it is worth noting that for some years now, in France and elsewhere, a good number of artists have been thinking in terms of dub from the outset, breaking free from the original Jamaican model, which involved drawing inspiration almost systematically from an existing vocal track. Thirty years on, with the release of their second album, Brain Damage aim to reconnect with this tradition. Recent collaborations with the two vocalists, Learoy Green and Black Sifichi, have indeed provided the ideal source material for the creation of five tracks, each rendered in their respective dub versions, thus forming an album with a symmetrical, even geometric character - from its very structure right down to its title: 'Ashes to ashes / Dub to dub'. At the heart of the project lies the astute choice of two guests, each operating in diametrically opposed spheres yet brought together for the occasion, thereby emphasising a certain 'unity of the circle': 'the unity of the circle'. Born of a genuine artistic vision, this geometric, symmetrical aesthetic-omnipresent in every detail of the album, both auditory and visual-complements Brain Damage's 'square' and robotic side, with its three-dimensional evocations. Always working in close collaboration with the very latest digital technologies. This brings to mind 'the balance of the cube'. Finally, the title itself, 'Ashes to ashes / Dub to dub', should be understood as a reference to the transience of all things in this world, against a backdrop of widespread, globalised, international, national and local crises_

The legendary Christian metal pioneers Stryper return with a commanding new chapter in their storied career: Throne Of Thorns, set for release this September via Frontiers Records. Decades into their journey, Stryper continue to reaffirm their status as one of the most influential and enduring bands in classic metal, seamlessly blending their signature message with a sound that remains as powerful and relevant as ever. Throne Of Thorns showcases the band at the height of their creative powers, delivering a masterclass in songwriting and musicianship. The album is packed with grand, meticulously crafted arrangements, where thunderous rhythms, soaring guitar harmonies, and anthemic choruses come together in a style that is unmistakably Stryper. Each track is infused with both intensity and melody, capturing the essence of classic metal while pushing their sound forward with renewed energy and purpose. At the forefront stands the unmistakable voice of Michael Sweet, whose passionate, powerful, and instantly recognizable delivery continues to define the band’s identity. His vocal performance on Throne Of Thorns is nothing short of extraordinary, effortlessly moving between soaring highs and emotive depth, adding a timeless quality to every song. With Throne Of Thorns, Stryper not only honor their legacy but expand upon it, offering an album that will resonate with longtime fans and newcomers alike. It’s a bold, inspired statement from a band that refuses to stand still—proof that true metal greatness only grows stronger with time.

The legendary Christian metal pioneers Stryper return with a commanding new chapter in their storied career: Throne Of Thorns, set for release this September via Frontiers Records. Decades into their journey, Stryper continue to reaffirm their status as one of the most influential and enduring bands in classic metal, seamlessly blending their signature message with a sound that remains as powerful and relevant as ever. Throne Of Thorns showcases the band at the height of their creative powers, delivering a masterclass in songwriting and musicianship. The album is packed with grand, meticulously crafted arrangements, where thunderous rhythms, soaring guitar harmonies, and anthemic choruses come together in a style that is unmistakably Stryper. Each track is infused with both intensity and melody, capturing the essence of classic metal while pushing their sound forward with renewed energy and purpose. At the forefront stands the unmistakable voice of Michael Sweet, whose passionate, powerful, and instantly recognizable delivery continues to define the band’s identity. His vocal performance on Throne Of Thorns is nothing short of extraordinary, effortlessly moving between soaring highs and emotive depth, adding a timeless quality to every song. With Throne Of Thorns, Stryper not only honor their legacy but expand upon it, offering an album that will resonate with longtime fans and newcomers alike. It’s a bold, inspired statement from a band that refuses to stand still—proof that true metal greatness only grows stronger with time.

The word ‘Tystnad’ – literally translated – means silence. In this case, the Silence is less that of zen buddhism or that of John Cage, rather the name of the studio where Flowers Must Die – carriers of the torch of Swedish psychedelia for now nearly 20 years – retreated to make their most head-expanding album to date. Located near the Norwegian border in the verdant rural Värmland region, Silence Studios has been a countercultural hub for decades, attaining a legendary status as a residential outpost where bands can retreat to stretch out creatively and focus their psychic powers.
From just such origins, Flowers Must Die have crafted a collection of expansive and incandescent jams that maps out a lysergic trajectory between the idealistic, anything-goes mania of early ‘70s psychedelia and the 21st century. Tystnad is the sound of a band buoyed by the afterglow of their last Rocket release, 2017’s Kompost and its attendant touring, and expanding into extrapolations that marry the wildest free improv with haunting melody.
If Tystnad, as the band claim, is to be their last recording made in one room at the same time, then it displays a formidable escape velocity. Who’s to say whether Flowers Must Die have tapped into a Swedish continuum, one including the like of Pärson Sound, Dungen or Goat. What’s clear is that Tystnad is a timeless treatise, and a potent channeling of spirits –transcending genre in search of enlightenment anew.

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

For acclaimed folk artist Martin Simpson, this release reflects not just a remarkable 50-year recording career, but over six decades shaped by song, tradition, and continual artistic growth. Yet this is not a retrospective, it's a forward-looking work, carrying the depth, skill, and passion of a lifetime into the present. Marking 50 years since his debut album Golden Vanity, Simpson describes Some Kind of Jubilee as "my best work to date." To realise this landmark project, he brings together an exceptional group of collaborators drawn from across his long and distinguished career. Among them are renowned pedal steel guitarist Greg Leisz, guitarist Zac Hobbs, cellist Liz Hanks, guitarist Louis Campbell, and double bassist Ben Nicholls. Together, they create a rich and textured soundscape that honours tradition while embracing fresh perspectives. Recorded at Groovemaster Studio in Santa Monica and completed in Yorkshire, the album blends newly written songs with reimagined traditional material and inspired reinterpretations from Simpson's own catalogue. The result is a deeply rooted yet vibrant collection that reflects both heritage and innovation. As Greg Leisz puts it, "This music has some profoundly deep roots - so dig in." With Some Kind of Jubilee, Martin Simpson honours his past while continuing to shape the future of folk music, reaffirming his place as one of the genre's most respected and enduring voices.

The debut album from Glasgow's Homework is fuzzy, sentimental indie rock for fans of Teenage Fanclub, Pavement, and The Vaselines. Bang Here if Stuck was recorded live at Chime Studios and arrives on vinyl September 25 vía Meritorio Records. Homework is a quintessential Glasgow band - overstimulated and a little rough round the edges, but with a pretty streak and a big, sentimental heart. They make fuzzy 90s-indebted indie rock that's bursting with ideas and sounds like home. Twin songwriters Michael Newton and Santiago Taberna trade off driving lopsided anthems and fuzzy baroque pop experiments, their voices and guitars tangled together in a way that feel less like a band and more like a shared language. Rhythm section Lizzie Quirke and Andrew Gordon provide a loping centre of gravity - steady enough to hold everything together, loose enough to let it breathe. Bang Here if Stuck, their debut album, delivers a kind of enthusiastic chaos where everything fits exactly where it should. Recorded at Chime Studios in Glasgow with Melissa Brisbane, the band tracked the core of the album live to best capture the playful spontaneity of their gigs. Drawing from the likes of Pavement, Teenage Fanclub, The Vaselines and Urusei Yatsura, it offers a familiar sound that's easy to love, punctuated by oddball diversions that lead somewhere unpredictable and unique. For fans of Teenage Fanclub, Pavement, Guided By Voices, Dinosaur Jr, Sebadoh, The Vaselines, Urusei Yatsura.

Named after a now-shuttered nightspot that overlooked the beach on Italy's picturesque Tuscan coast, Maxime Denuc's 'Club Imperiale' is a work of speculative historical fiction, a record that imagines a point of creative symbiosis between the Catholic church and the ecstatic dancefloors of the early '90s.
Using a MIDI-controlled pipe organ, Denuc creates dense clouds of impossible-to-play notes that ricochet backwards and forwards through history, from Rome's reverberant cathedrals to the white, sandy beaches of the Balearic Islands.
Two years ago, the Brussels-based French composer was forwarded a surprising video by a Belgian fan. It was shot during a Wedding at a church in Menorca, where the organist was playing 'Infinite End', the lead track from 2022's 'Nachthorn'. Immediately, Denuc knew that this was the thematic backdrop he'd been waiting for; he imagined the aftermath of the event, wandering through small villages and teetering on a cliff's edge, finding a provincial nightclub and retracing his steps back to the beach to witness the
sunrise.

“Man has such a predilection for systems and abstract deductions that he is ready to distort the truth intentionally, he is ready to deny the evidence of his senses only to justify his logic”
Fyodor Dostoevsky - Notes from Underground (1864)

The Intermittent Signal is the sound of resistance.

In the year since The Sick Man Of Europe’s debut album was released, the world has moved on. Steady hands have slipped from the levers of power, logic has shifted underground and the message grows more urgent with every passing day.

Repetition has been relearned and the machine rhythms repurposed, this time with increased intensity. Arrangements have moved beyond the bare bones economy of the first record and there’s a newfound melodicism in places. Clarity and conviction ring true through the static and noise, while utopian ideas to remodel a broken system gain traction. This is a rejection of the attention economy and a call to reconnect through community and organisation. Those simple acts that were once commonplace have become increasingly radical as new fractures emerge.

“Through repetition the message has gained weight and become something more urgent,” The Sick Man Of Europe explains. “The vehicle for this message needed to evolve, grow to gain the strength to carry it. We’ve landed on something more expansive, immediate and immersive. Less is more. Until it isn't.”

“Man has such a predilection for systems and abstract deductions that he is ready to distort the truth intentionally, he is ready to deny the evidence of his senses only to justify his logic”
Fyodor Dostoevsky - Notes from Underground (1864)

The Intermittent Signal is the sound of resistance.

In the year since The Sick Man Of Europe’s debut album was released, the world has moved on. Steady hands have slipped from the levers of power, logic has shifted underground and the message grows more urgent with every passing day.

Repetition has been relearned and the machine rhythms repurposed, this time with increased intensity. Arrangements have moved beyond the bare bones economy of the first record and there’s a newfound melodicism in places. Clarity and conviction ring true through the static and noise, while utopian ideas to remodel a broken system gain traction. This is a rejection of the attention economy and a call to reconnect through community and organisation. Those simple acts that were once commonplace have become increasingly radical as new fractures emerge.

“Through repetition the message has gained weight and become something more urgent,” The Sick Man Of Europe explains. “The vehicle for this message needed to evolve, grow to gain the strength to carry it. We’ve landed on something more expansive, immediate and immersive. Less is more. Until it isn't.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Recorded in Los Angeles over the course of a single day at a studio in the Eagle Rock neighborhood, Dois Desertos was produced by Mario Caldato Jr. and emerged without a predetermined plan or schedule. The project took shape during Portuguese musician João Pimenta Gomes' stay in Los Angeles with his family. During that time, through Rodrigo Amarante, João met Mario and Samantha Caldato, as well as musicians Abe Rounds (drums and percussion) and Gabe Noel (bass and cello). From those encounters, the album began to unfold organically.

Working from simple scores—some containing little more than chord progressions—the sessions left plenty of room for improvisation. Every performance was captured live, in a single take, with no overdubs. The mixing process, also carried out live by Mario Caldato Jr., followed the same philosophy: effects and level adjustments were performed in real time and printed directly to the final two-track master.

At the heart of the album's sound is the Cristal Baschet, a rare instrument played by rubbing glass rods with the hands, causing metal resonators to vibrate and produce an ethereal, resonant tone. João describes its sound as "a trace, almost like a shadow." Rather than taking the lead, the instrument serves as a textural foundation, while the bass and cello carry the melodic lines. Some of these melodies are original compositions, while others draw from traditional Portuguese fado, reimagined through an open and exploratory approach.

The album has a dreamlike atmosphere, reflecting the perspective of someone experiencing Los Angeles from the outside—not in a rush to belong, but fully receptive to the city's unique energy. Two films helped shape this imaginary landscape: Model Shop (Jacques Demy, 1969), in which the French filmmaker uses Los Angeles as a pretext to simply observe and inhabit the city, and Thom Andersen's Los Angeles Plays Itself. The result is Dois Desertos, an album that, in João's own words, "could never have been made anywhere else."

With Dois Desertos, João Pimenta Gomes invites listeners into a deeply immersive experience, revealing a more exploratory side of his artistic practice while reinforcing Amor in Sound's commitment to releasing original works that engage with the many languages of contemporary music.

As always at U JAZZ ME Records we have limited edition (100 numbered copies) of 180g black vinyl with insert.

Astrocyrk (Astrocircus) is the next chapter in a story that began in 2123, when Captain Harrison Focus, after an emergency landing, finds himself on the mysterious planet Carmin. Following the events described in the previous album, the main character – Triceradiplodocus – leaves the planet's surface, following Ropuch’s instructions. However, the light on the horizon turns out to be the beginning of a new nightmare, and the dinosaur is trapped in the Astrocyrk. Under Klown’s guidance, he begins exploring this dark place. Only the finale reveals the true history of the Astrocyrk and
surprisingly intertwines Triceradiplodocus's fate with events from years past and the character of Captain Harrison Focus.

Musically, the album develops Twoosty Mayonez's distinctive style – one that focuses on improvisation and cinematic storytelling. Each composition represents a new chapter in the story, creating a cohesive musical journey through the world of Astrocyrk. Subsequent tracks lead the listener through the ship's dark attractions.

The new album is a natural continuation of the story from planet Carmin, while also opening a completely new chapter in the Twoosty Mayonnaise universe – one that is bigger, darker, and even more unpredictable.
The album features guest appearances by Szymon Białorucki (oud), Marek Konarski (sax), and Bartłomiej “Eskaubei” Skubisz (rap). The recordings were made at the Twoosty Room studio in Warsaw by the band's drummer.

Around seven years ago I became a father and that changed my life. E Dee has always been about my son Carlo’s world seen through my eyes, and this third and final chapter closes the series as he is now seven years old and about to start his second year of primary school.

As with the previous volumes, all the titles come from our family’s own little dictionary. “Cazia” is the name used to call his mother, while “Wager” and “Illu” are two nicknames invented by his sister Camilla for Carlo.

Words that once belonged to a child’s private language have stayed with us over the years. E Dee Vol. 3 is the last chapter of that small family archive.