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Across the past decade, KAS has established herself as a unique voice in experimental electronic music, a composer and synthesist whose work dissolves the boundaries between ambient electronica, contemporary classical, composition, and immersive sound design. Her new album “Ruin: It’s Not Just Music” arrives with a distinctive gravitational pull. The record moves with greater physical force, placing rhythm and impact at the centre of its architecture, revealing a more confrontational and embodied dimension of KAS’s musical language.
The first single “Ruin” arrives May 22nd, with the full album released October 2nd via SOMEONE SPECIAL the new label co-founded by KAS.
Where much of KAS’s earlier work explored harmonic environments, the forthcoming album is built around tension and release. Inspired by the sound of drum and bass, breakbeats fracture through dense fields of synthesis, percussive patterns and her signature melodic fragments – motions that feel closer to the kinetic language of club music than the meditative spaces often associated with her past catalogue. The result is a body of work that feels both recognisably hers and newly charged, music that moves through the body as insistently as it engages the mind.
For listeners who first encountered KAS through the glowing synthesis of “Ears” (2016) or the intricate experimental pop of “The Kid” (2017), this direction may feel initially surprising, yet the shift has been quietly unfolding across the past several years. KAS’s practice has steadily expanded beyond the expectations placed upon experimental electronic artists, moving between orchestral composition, audiovisual installations, film scoring, and large-scale commissions while retaining the unmistakable sonic signature that defines her work.
The 2022 albums “I Could Be Your Dog / I Could Be Your Moon” (2022) and “Let’s Turn It Into Sound” (2022) explored a deeply immersive approach to composition, expanded her reputation and instinct for constructing detailed sonic ecosystems while continuing to blur the lines between experimental electronics and contemporary pop structures. KAS’s most recent output has continued to widen that field including the rhythm oriented electronic album “Gush” (2025) and her return to more orchestral roots with “Thoughts on the Future” (2025). Together these releases underscored the breadth of her practice.
Her prolific collaborators and creative partners have ranged from Patti Smith and Suzanne Ciani to Danny Elfman, Tycho, Glass Beams, RY X, Caribou, Four Tet, Reggie Watts, and Max Richter, while her compositions have appeared in projects with Apple, Chanel, Meow Wolf, the BBC Orchestra, and major film and television productions.
On “Ruin: It’s Not Just Music”, that vocabulary becomes more kinetic than ever before. The record draws energy from jungle, drum and bass, and dance-floor focused electronic music while retaining the intricate synthesis and tonal curiosity that have defined KAS’s work from the beginning. The result is a record that feels equally at home within club culture, contemporary composition, and the experimental spaces that have long championed her artistry.
On May 27th KAS will present a major performance at London’s Barbican Centre alongside the London Contemporary Orchestra, marking the ten-year anniversary of her landmark album Ears. The evening will trace the arc of her creative evolution while also introducing material from the new album.

Balvanera is the project of Agustina Vizcarra and Lucas Palavecino from Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Since 2016, the duo has been building a sonic narrative that moves between the corporeal and the spectral, exploring waves and minimal synth as well as more intense and rhythmic directions closer to Body music, all while sharing the stage with artists such as Clan of Xymox, Boy Harsher, Die Selektion, Kontravoid, NNHMN and Ashcode.

New album Hasta tocar el fondo vacío del lenguaje arrives as an attempt to push expression to the limit, focused on language and sound as expressive forms.
With all tracks sung in Spanish, the album is a declaration of identity and at the same time an exercise with Spanish itself: how to play with a language that sometimes feels baroque and turn it into something stark while retaining its richness. Musically direct, the album occasionally returns to some minimalism reminiscent of the band’s early releases while preserving the intensity and club-oriented feel of their later work. At times intensifying in speed, the record brings the energy of their live performances to visibility, while other tracks feel like an unsettlingly dreamlike atmosphere. The title – meaning Until Touching the Empty Bottom of Language – borrowed from a fragment of Arturo Carrera’s poem Escrito con un nictógrafo, offers a clue to Balvanera’s nocturnal sensibility: those thoughts and images that can only emerge in the sleepless hours of the night, when they reach their most revealing edge.

Hasta tocar el fondo vacío del lenguajen explores death as something hidden within language while allowing each track to find its own form rather than adhering to genre conventions.

Split released with DKA. Out October 1st, 2026 on aquamarine vinyl LP limited to 500 with lyrics insert.

"Steve Watson's roots lie in Paramaribo, at that time the capital of the Dutch colony, where he won the 1975 Suriname Song Festival. This artist had a very strong connection with the music of his country, although unlike other artists - such as Max Nikman, for whom he acted as vocalist too - he performed his songs in English. Siegfried Boerleider, his real name, moved shortly thereafter to the Netherlands, where he also played in the groups The Backlot (with Laura Fygi and Rowan Moore) and Soul Conference. He released several singles on various labels, shaking off the "kaseko" music genre, which fused many different styles from Africa, Europe and the Americas, but considered rhythmically complex. He took time to move toward a simpler, yet well-structured, melodic genre in the recording studio, producing songs that were enjoyable to listen to on the radio and sensually danced to in the disco. With 1981's "Born To Boogie," we risk a seductive journey into the soul music of Suriname, which also possesses the fragrance of Dutch tulips. Then thanks to its charm, exploded in the Netherlands and subsequently in the world. Steve Watson - in addition to his personal style, rich in that simple and genuine expressiveness - also deserves recognition for his excellent songwriting, which led him to write for other Dutch artists, even though his two best songs are on this vinyl: "May Little One" and "Born to Boogie", ....the latter title has never been more fitting !!! Listen to it and go crazy !!!"

2026 Repress

On Left At Sunset, Tornado Wallace taps into those fragile, glowing moments after a long night in the club, when the lights come up just enough, the bass softens, and the first hint of morning slips through the windows. Time feels suspended.
The lead track Asahi Ga Yondeiru (“the morning sun is calling”) captures that feeling perfectly. Built around Courtney Bailey’s gentle vocal, it drifts somewhere between late-night house and early morning reflection. It is not about the peak. It is about what comes after it. That quiet euphoria when you realize the night gave you something you will carry back into the real world. The rest of the EP stays in that same emotional zone: warm, slightly melancholic, but full of light. These are tracks for the very last dance, when the floor is half-empty, hearts are wide open, and every sound feels a little more meaningful. Not an ending, really. Just the beginning of whatever comes next.

A dream come true for A Colourful Storm to be releasing an early gem by Tenniscoats, a duo whose DIY spirit, boundless creativity and lust for life and collaboration has left an indelible mark. From self-releasing albums and tapes on their own Majikick imprint to meeting kindred spirits The Pastels, Bill Wells and Jad Fair in between outings for Morr Music, Chapter and Häpna, to name but a few, Tenniscoats have embodied an understated determination and optimism for over two decades.

"A foghorn melodica, voice, fractions, fragments, nothing and everything all at once. We Are Everyone opens out slowly, a little eerily, magic tumbles into play in well-measured rations. Meanwhile, on the cover, Saya and Ueno's heads seem to merge into the sky as if living amongst the wisdom of the clouds. Or maybe somewhere between sleep and reality, like Ueno's description of Tenniscoats' music. We Are Everyone is one of those records where you almost feel engulfed in its making - you feel like you're in the room with Tenniscoats as they push themselves to the limit, trying to make the very best record they can." - Stephen Pastel

The collaboration we’ve all been waiting for is finally here! Thee Sacred Souls asked him to... and Victor Axelrod delivers with two massive platters sure to usher summer in with a swing.

Thoughtfully plucked from their sophomore album, Got a Story to Tell, the Cupid struck ‘Waiting for the Right Time’ gets a soulful reggae reboot from Axelrod and session team The Inversions.

Josh Lane’s emotional delivery and impressive vocal range meld with the raw, heavy rhythms as if preordained—transforming the beloved tracks into something exciting and fresh whilst leaving its DNA intact. A testament to what a skilled producer can do with rock-solid compositions. Comes complete with respective HEAVY B SIDE DUB VERSIONS. Get into it!

2026 Repress

What an unbelievable record. From the wild cover to the iconic breakbeats, Roots from Ian Carr’s Nucleus is one of the dopest albums we know. This is seriously thick, funky-prog jazz-rock heaven. Originally released on Vertigo in 1973, other than a couple of versions at the time for other territories, Roots was never re-pressed since so it’s gone on to become another one of those impossible to find records.

Maybe it was a little too out there for the time, but it’s aged very, very well indeed and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.

Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels.

Working together with producer Fritz Fryer and engineer Roger Wake, the seven compositions by Carr, Brian Smith and Dave MacRae that make up Roots flirt with perfection, and Nucleus at that time made up of the cream of 1970s UK jazz with Brian Smith on tenor saxophones and flutes, Dave MacRae on piano and electric piano, Jocelyn Pitchen on guitar, Roger Sutton on bass, both Clive Thacker and Aureo De Souza on drums and percussion, Joy Yates delivering the vocals and of course Carr on trumpet.

The spellbinding title track immediately renders the album indispensable. Riding the illest of loping breakbeats, “Roots” is low-slung, doped-out heist-funk. An absolute monster. If it sounds familiar then that’s likely down to it being sampled by Madlib for Lootpack and Quasimoto’s “Loop Digga”, as well as by a whole host of beat manipulators. “Roots” conjures prime instrumental hip-hop / beat music, only 20 years ahead of its time. Truly, these are the roots. Through sinuous bass, twinkling keys and a hypnotic guitar riff, a smoky brass motif weaves its way into a gloriously deep haze around Carr’s solos. “Roots” is over 9 minutes long, but there’s not a single wasted second, not surprising given that this is a condensed version of an originally 40 minute long commissioned composition.

The soothing vocal fusion delight of “Images” follows. Meticulously constructed, with gorgeous flute work from Brian Smith, with Joy Yates’ silky vocals and Dave MacRae’s Rhodes never sounding better. The cool, driving “Caliban” closes out the first side. Originally the third movement in a four part commission to celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday it stands up on its own, all robust rhythms and blended brass. Keyboard colour and Carr’s trumpet are splashed across the funk drums and basslines (and there’s even some bamboo flute). This really is fusion: the elements of jazz and rock coming together in beautifully synthesis.

Side two opens in riotous fashion with the short, thrilling samba of “Wapatiti”. Next up, “Capricorn” forms a smoothed-out, jazzy constellation. Mellow and dreamy, its twinkling percussion and languid horns slowly build the vibe before head-nod drums and a killer bassline enter the fray. With a distinct heaviness that Black Sabbath would’ve envied, “Odokamona” is a venomous slice of riff-soaked jazz metal (yes, you read that right), elevated by Carr’s wah-wah horns.

The album closes with MacRae’s exceptionally cosmic “Southern Roots and Celebration”. Very much in conversation with Weather Report, it opens as a languorous, spiritual jazz of chiming keys and serene guitar that turns slowly, gorgeously into a mid-paced, brass-laced banger. It’s another sure-fire party starter and the sound of the band having a righteous blast, building an ecstatic chaos that ends with Yates screaming.

And of course we need to talk about Keith Davis’ cover for Roots. Perhaps the coolest record cover of all time? Certainly one of the most bonkers. Just your run-of-the-mill high-gloss, acid-tinged airbrush dystopian/utopian living-room party scene. Consider this your chemical flashback trigger warning.

Front-and-centre the hip-to-death green robot holds court with their giant ball of yellow barbwire wool, hooked up to… something(?) being teased out from under the stairs (probably best not to ask). A thoroughly zoned-out, long-legged Pop Art party-goer lounges half-plugged in to the painting behind her as a pair of legs flail into shot from the the top of the stairs opposite. We won’t even begin to guess what the chap’s up to in the middle, but the view out of the windows is rather nice, and someone’s already got the hoover out ready to tidy up. All of the Nucleus sleeves are something special, but this particular one? Crikey.

This Be With edition of Roots has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Pete Norman’s cut to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The crazy cover has been restored at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

In Living Color proudly presents Wasi Wasi EP, the debut label release from
Kenyan-born, Berlin-based artist Emo Rugene.

A striking first statement from one of the most exciting emerging voices in African electronic music, Wasi Wasi introduces Rugene's distinctive sound while reflecting the bold, forward-thinking vision at the heart of Living Color. Blending deep cultural roots with contemporary electronic production, the EP marks the arrival of an artist helping shape the future of the genre.

Deeply rooted in African rhythm and musical heritage, Wasi Wasi is a body of work that embraces the past while looking confidently toward the future. Blending hypnotic grooves, organic percussion, and contemporary electronic production, the EP reflects a new generation of artists drawing inspiration from their roots while carving out their own unique artistic identity.

The release features two compelling vocal collaborations that enrich its storytelling. “Wasi Wasi (Vocal Mix)” features Alai K, whose deep ancestral vocal brings a powerful spiritual presence to the title track. “Sahara Dena” features Soukou, whose soulful vocal performance adds warmth, emotion, and depth, creating a beautiful dialogue between tradition and contemporary sound.

With Wasi Wasi EP, Emo Rugene stands among a new generation of African electronic music artists redefining the future on their own terms. His music is deeply connected to where it comes from, yet unafraid to explore new ideas, proving that heritage is not something to preserve behind glass, but something to carry forward with imagination and purpose.

More than a collection of tracks, Wasi Wasi EP is a celebration of movement, identity, and possibility, a record that honours the voices of those who came before while contributing to the sound of tomorrow.

*COMES IN GATEFOLD 2LP WITH LINER NOTES*

The premise of this compilation is simple: music we’d like to hear at the airport.

The idea came after learning that Honolulu’s international airport has been playing AI-generated music over its speakers since November 2025. First reported by Civil Beat, the news has caused frustration and disappointment among residents and visitors, as well as within the local music community.

Everyone knows Hawaii is one of the most musically rich regions in the world — why then is the airport using AI music? 'Music For The Airport' is our response.

Located in the middle of the Pacific at the outskirts of one the most remote cities on the planet, Honolulu’s Daniel K. Inouye International Airport (HNL) is for most people the first place they encounter when they arrive in Hawaii. Warm sun, tropical tradewinds, playful palm trees and majestic mountains welcome every traveler, as do the sounds of birds, familiar music from Hawaiian artists like Aunty Genoa Keawe and Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, and—at least for now—seventeen “island-themed” AI-generated songs.

In late 1977, while sitting in Germany’s Cologne Bonn Airport on a Sunday morning, Brian Eno noticed how terribly uncomfortable he felt hearing the airport’s “muzak” overhead. For a harried, hurried place like the airport where travelers scramble to their gates, stand in long border control lines, and wait impatiently for their luggage at the carousels, music can create more anxiety than calm. Asking himself, "What should we be hearing here?", Eno soon created ‘Ambient 1: Music For Airports’, a sonic remedy aimed at reducing nervousness in public spaces.

When we heard the news that HNL airport is playing AI-generated “muzak”, we were immediately reminded of Eno’s genre-defying 1978 album. And we were similarly inspired to react. But how? Recreating an ambient masterpiece wasn’t in our wheelhouse. We started digging through our catalog of licensed music which we haven’t yet re-released. We quickly realized this was our chance to highlight some of favorite songs from the so-called CD era: the 1990s and 2000s (with a few exceptions). In less than 20 minutes, we pulled 17 original songs recorded by local artists between 1984 and 2017.

The speed at which this project came together surprised us; reactionary gut instinct often produces swift and lasting results. Ironically, our new compilation likely took less time than it did for the state Department of Transportation to commission its AI songs in question. But even though ‘Music for the Airport’ came together in less than one week, the truth is that this collection of 17 songs is the result of years of hard work, trust, sacrifice, patience, and understanding. Building relationships with and licensing music from artists doesn’t happen overnight, but more importantly: these songs are the result of people pouring their hearts and souls into something they believe in. This music wouldn’t exist today without the artists and their loved ones who supported them along the way.

As of this writing, the DOT states its intention in creating AI-generated songs is to “highlight different aspects of the islands, aviation and the airport” and that “no state funds were used to produce them”. Okay, but at what cost? Technology disrupting the music industry isn’t news to anyone. AI music in public spaces are cost-saving measures, since its users (airports, for example) don’t have to pay the licensing fees typically required, which can be a worthwhile source of revenue for artists. But what happens when a place like HNL airport, which hosts more than 21 million passengers annually, uses music created by machines instead of people to represent Hawaii? The identity of a place beings to erode, diluted by a language learning model’s conceptual summary of what a people and its culture sounds like. To echo Brian Eno: what should we be hearing here? In other words: what should the music of Hawaii sound like?

We believe in the power of music, especially when it comes from the soul. We believe in supporting artists, especially as AI disrupts our lives. We believe that Hawaii must be represented authentically, especially when it comes to song. And of course we believe in vinyl, especially since it was a record from 1978 (Mackey Feary Band’s debut LP) that inspired Aloha Got Soul’s origins in 2010.

We hope you find as much joy in this compilation as we have. Perhaps it’ll soundtrack your next journey to Hawaii. At the very least, we hope some people take a moment to hear these sounds: in your headphones for now‚ maybe someday overhead at the airport in Honolulu.

There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.


Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.


At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along

There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.


Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.


At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along

2026 Repress

Prologue: Wearied by our endless travelling under a burning sun, we stopped by the margins of a tiny stream, embraced by a timid vegetation. The scorching heat made our throat parched and weak: yearning to quench our thirst, we immersed ourselves into the waters without any hesitation, drowning our dryness and our exhausted limbs. I pointed my face, revived by water, towards the sky and I lingered on, admiring it: a flock of birds gently floated, drawing in the sky some abstract shapes. I sat beneath a palm tree, motionlessly admiring the show, the shades of the night approaching. 'The true joy of a moonlit night is something we no longer understand. Only the men of old, when there were no lights, could understand the true joy of a moonlit night.' --

The sun sat high above the desert outside Joshua Tree on October 17, 2024, baking the rocks and shrubbery outside the Farrington Observatory as a small group of invited guests ventured up a steep path towards the telescope. Kyle Simon, the artist and printmaker who founded the Observatory, was standing outside the print studio sat below the towering cylindrical building, greeting friends alongside his wife Sarah and lifelong friend Brian Weitz, the musician widely known as Geologist of Animal Collective. Simon and Weitz had spent the previous day testing and retesting a system that would transform the light of the oncoming full moon captured by the gigantic telescope into a signal that would modulate the control voltage of Weitz’s modular synthesizer. As the sun dipped below the horizon line, the audience gathered on a small wooden patio surrounded by speakers while Weitz readied himself behind the array of patches and knobs. Simon addressed the group, presenting the history of The Sirens, the sonic exploration of the night sky’s mystical and scientific significance about to unfold.

The music conjured under the Hunter’s Moon that night is now documented on this first official release of The Sirens, which was conceived by Simon and Weitz as a recurring performance piece and sound installation. Over a decade ago, Simon began immersing himself in literature on humanity’s sonic relationship to the celestial realm, including Homer’s Odyssey, Plato’s “Spindle of Necessity, ” Kepler’s Harmonices Mundi, and the field of astroseismology. He fitted homemade telescopes with photodiodes and optical sensors to make the images audible, finding latent patterns in the noisy sonic signals he began receiving from the stars. With Weitz, the process expanded as the signal was routed through an analog amplifier and set to modulate the pitch, filter, and other elements of his synthesizer. Together they developed a system of improvisation, with Simon adjusting the telescope to change the intensity of the light based on its relationship with the moon’s position (imagine a theremin player moving their hands in subtle, meaningful motion), and Weitz responding to that input in real time: bending it, amplifying it, or letting it stand on its own. The duo debuted the piece at the Integretron in Joshua Tree in 2018, providing a crucial proof of concept for the performance at Farrington featured here.

The first thing the listener hears on The Sirens is the opening of Farrington Observatory, the cranking of motor and metal. As the lens of the telescope is exposed to the evening air, a wavering drone emerges from the synthesizer, flickering at the margins, the tuning of the oscillators adjusting to the rapidly cooling desert air. The piece progresses and the drone becomes a luminous, spherical constant, bathing the listener in pure tone as Weitz draws out harmonically ambiguous melodies that spiral upwards. Electronics crackle and convulse, coalescing into dense dissonance before widening out into an open octave. Just as the moon orbits the Earth and the stars shift as the planet rotates, so each sonic element appears in flux, interrelationships slowly forming and falling away. Divided into two parts, The Sirens flows as a continuous conversation between the artists and the starlight completing its thousand-year journey across the galaxy.

The Sirens belongs primarily to a lineage beyond music: of sea captains navigating by looking skyward, of astrophysicists studying the formation of the Milky Way, of the modern myths of werewolves, of the stories embedded in constellations. As Simon writes in the album’s extensive liner notes, “These stories and explorations reveal a collective yearning to become conscious of our connection to the universe, our deep-seated desire to understand how we fit into it all.” This music underscores the history of the night sky as the place where poetry and science find common ground, where exploration hinges on the imagination. Driven by curiosity and ingenuity, Weitz and Simon look up and wonder.

British electronic music pioneer Dave Angel returns to R&S Records with “A Time And Place”, his first full-length album release for the seminal Belgian label. Arriving thirty-five years after Dave first joined the R&S family, the album reunites one of UK techno's defining voices with the imprint that helped launch his career, renewing one of electronic music's most enduring creative partnerships.



That relationship began in 1991, when R&S founder Renaat Vandepapeliere discovered Angel's ‘Rolling Thunder’ project and invited the young London producer to Belgium. Personally welcoming him into the R&S family alongside a new generation of forward-thinking electronic artists, Vandepapeliere released the landmark “1st Voyage” EP, helping establish Dave Angel as one of British techno's most distinctive new voices. A succession of acclaimed releases followed, including “Stairway To Heaven”, “3rd Voyage”, appearances on the influential “In Order To Dance’” compilation series, and releases on sister imprint Apollo, charting an artistic partnership that helped shape both Angel's career and the wider evolution of UK techno.



Three and a half decades later, “A Time And Place” feels less like a return than the continuation of a conversation left unfinished. Rather than revisiting former achievements, the album reflects the perspective of an artist whose creative journey has continued to evolve. Reconnecting with the label that first championed his work, Angel delivers his most personal and musically expansive statement to date.



Across fifteen compositions, “A Time And Place” reaches beyond the conventions of techno to reveal the full breadth of Angel's musical identity. Drawing on jazz, soul, improvisation and richly textured electronic production, the album balances rhythmic precision with warmth, melody and emotional depth. Reflections on family, heritage, nature and the communities that have shaped his life sit alongside broader observations of the world around him, creating a body of work that feels both intimate and expansive.



That openness is reflected in a carefully chosen cast of collaborators. Celebrated trumpeter Steve Waterman features on both “Réflexion” and “The Yellow Butterfly”, bringing a lyrical, Miles Davis-inspired voice to the album after first catching Angel's attention through his work on Paul Hazel's “Out Of This World”. Elsewhere, legendary Chicago vocalist Robert Owens appears on “Harmony Serenade”, while guitarist Merv Carswell and vocalist Aurii Sky (Dave’s daughter, adding a poignant family connection) add further colour and texture to a record rooted in musicianship and shared expression.



While Dave Angel's influence on British electronic music has long been established, “A Time And Place” reveals another dimension of an artist whose foundations were laid long before techno. Raised in a household immersed in live music and jazz culture, Angel has spent a lifetime absorbing sounds beyond the club, allowing those influences to surface naturally throughout a career defined by curiosity rather than convention.



For R&S Records, the album renews a relationship that stretches back to the label's formative years. For Dave Angel, it reflects both the path travelled and the road ahead. Thirty-five years after “1st Voyage” first announced his arrival, “A Time And Place” reunites artist and label with the same forward-looking spirit that brought them together in 1991, proof that the strongest creative partnerships continue to evolve.

A glorious night of no particular significance, Totally, the new album by Baba Stiltz. Recorded in Helsinki in studio with a drummer and overdubs committed in 5 days. Ballroom- sink songs of loss, grief, long drives on the I-5, centralized acquisitions, and corrective conditioning towards the prolonged effects of computerized lifestyles.

Every song looks you straight in the eyes, crooked and veering towards a light fixture off the side of the mirror. Ambivalence and assertions track us, down some gauzy networked afternoon. Relatively, perfectly, three dimensional. Proportions as they appear to us from outer intuition. Sometimes meaning is evoked through pure nothingness. Concealed and nothing known. We have no need for any paradise informed by anything beyond what is directly in front of us.

Stone repetition thwarts the possibility of control and surrenders itself to understanding. Who are we, and what are we trying to understand? To understand being universally greater than being understood. There are soap operas everywhere for those with eyes to see. You don’t have to look as hard as we currently look. The dramatic is everywhere, we breathe it unintentionally, then we come to hate it. Haptic, embodied facts of a tedious life lodged in the jowls of history. Everything under the
sky being the best bedlam has to offer. Your family, your relationships, your memory. As you eat a burger you are reminded of every sharp protrusion and corner under the florescent lights, the same lights you see when you’re born, and although unconfirmed, when you die.

Some of these songs were written years ago, some recently. The bookshelf and television set come into full view. Women/men come and go. Stars and poseurs collapse under their alienated contradictions, the search for truth yields to continued gradients of probability (collapse). Spatial order maintains itself through perceptional feeling. Silence, singing along to Roger Miller, people entering and leaving, figures hovering over you in your dreams and waking hours. Cool and fun, Totally

Text by Barrett Avner

Asphalt DJ lands with his second outing on Sentiment.

Following a more Detroit house & techno oriented first release, this EP fi nds itself in four club-focused, yet deeper house tracks. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Sentiment is a label born from admiration for those who came long before us, who were driven by curiosity and experimented with early-day machinery. We want to create a home for music that carries that same spirit. A home founded on the bricks of house and techno and built together with artists who inspire us. Feel free to join building.

It's hard to explain an album when one listen is enough. All the more so with MaMaMa: there's no room to stay passive. Listening to his new album, EST, means immersing yourself in an atmosphere that's softly psychedelic, comforting and organic all at once. A dreamy, electronic pop that proves this Strasbourg-at-heart, Paris-by-adoption musician, arranger, singer, songwriter and producer never stops reinventing himself. After changing his name — formerly Petit Prince — and delivering two critically acclaimed albums ("MaMaMa-gnificent." / "Hooks you carry in your head for a long time" / "sumptuous arrangements"), Elliott Diener now offers an even more sincere record. Real songs in French, after two albums where production sometimes took up all the space: "when you make heavily produced music, once you strip away the layers of sound, there's no fruit left underneath. On EST, I don't need makeup for the songs to work," he admits.


That's what this new album is about: the song and the French language first, then the pleasure of sound. An album less concerned with talking about its own making, more inhabited, more embodied, within a contemporary folklore. With this new album, don't expect to be bored: EST is his best record yet.

No pretense


Entirely conceived in his studio in Pantin — a room of his own, at last — imagined as a space free of any daydream, open to every sonic landscape, MaMaMa offers a record that's both hazy and downy soft. Often composed very early in the morning, it has become nostalgic without being dark, melancholic without being sad, with a few lineages showing through: Flavien Berger, Moodoïd, Feu! Chatterton for the taste for words and unease, Mount Kimbie for the approach to sound and rhythm. Unsurprising, given that EST was finalized with the British duo's producer. Live, MaMaMa is preparing a show in the style of Nicolas Jaar or UTO. Hypnotic and immersive.

The most liberating thing is that EST is an album without pretense. With it, we move through perseverance (in Aussi loin qu'il tiendra debout), the small arrangements we make to avoid facing reality (Tout sauf la vérité), and the fragility of bonds we thought were solid (Si bien ensemble). We also touch on lasting conflicts with the people we love (Anywhere You Are, There You Are), misunderstanding (Elle me parle une langue), and the erosion of friendships (S'envoler). EST draws an intimate and redemptive map of human relationships, in a body of work that's both lucid and sensitive — like when he also addresses social masks such as filial love (in Beau garçon, dedicated to his son) or relationships that have become impossible.

"It's really the album that sounds most like me, in terms of sonic landscape," Elliott points out. A record that rises above the noise of an imperfect, shifting world — like us — joyful in its words, liberating in its production. A true gem.

PSR003 – Lorenzo Panico – The Me Inside Forged for dark rooms and relentless sound systems, The Me Inside explores hypnotic textures, raw groove and deep-driving pressure. No compromises. No trends. Just pure underground techno built for those who know. Limited vinyl only. Secure your copy before it disappears into the crates.

4/5 REVIEW IN MOJO: “HEARTBEAT TONES DISSOLVE INTO BEAUTEOUS SHIMMER AND STELLAR SYNTH MEDITATIONS GIVE WAY TO CAREFULLY ORCHESTRATED ELECTRONICA.”

4/5 REVIEW IN UNCUT: “IT'S MASTERFUL, THOUGH IT WILL LEAVE YOU FEELING LIKE A SPECK OF GRAVEL IN A SELF-DESTRUCTING WORLD.”

NME - 8/10 review (w/c 14 October) "He’s mastered this stylistic skittishness and you’ll do well to find much dispute about his talent."

NARC - 5/5 review (October issue) "An immersive soundtrack to your own personal psychodrama."

WIRE - ONE PAGE REVIEW (October issue) "The sentiments it stirs to life are shadowed and ambiguous, simultaneously personal and impersonal. It is also fantastically immersive, dragging the listener into its turbulent undertows, then washing them back on dry land, intact but changed.’’

Virgins was recorded during three periods in 2012, mostly in Reykjavik, Montreal and Seattle, using ensembles in live performance.

While this album remains committed to a painterly form of musical abstraction, it is also a record of restrained composition recorded live primarily in intimate studio rooms. This record employs woodwinds, piano and synthesizers towards an effort at doing what digital music does not do naturally—making music that is out of time, out of tune and out of phase.

Some pieces go off the rails before forming into anything, others eschew crescendo
compositional structures or bombastic density while going sideways instead. It points to the ongoing development of Hecker's work. It suggests illusory memories of drug- hazed jams or communal music performance that may have never been performed or been heard.

It is an offering of music into the void, a gift of digital filler between distractions. Yet hopefully it also stands as a document of the enduring faith in the narcotic, enigmatic function of music as long-form expression.

Mixed by Valgeir Sigurðsson and Tim Hecker. Additional assistance by Randall Dunn and Ben Frost. Mastered by Mandy Parnell at Black Saloon Studios in London, UK.