The year was 1989, and Derrick May was at a creative peak as both a DJ and producer. Under his Rhythim Is Rhythim moniker, he released a string of landmark records on Transmat, while his residency at Detroit's The Music Institute showcased the distinctive DJ style that would soon take him onto the international stage. Around the same time, he hosted a weekly radio show on Detroit radio station WJLB, alongside influential programs by The Electrifying Mojo and The Wizard (Jeff Mills).
For one of these broadcasts, May assembled a 15-minute megamix in his studio during the week leading up to the show. He opened his radio set with this continuous mix, blending his own tracks and versions into a seamless introduction that reflected his approach to DJing at the time. It includes unreleased versions of classics such as ‘Nude Photo 88’ and ‘Strings Of Life’.
‘All of this is unreleased because I made it as I was playing it on the spot as a special Mayday Mix for my show on the radio station WJLB in 1989, edited together straight from the keyboards live to tape. There is no other recording of these tracks in this form, only here’.
The original WJLB master tapes have since been lost, and no official recording is known to survive. Fortunately, many listeners recorded the broadcasts at home. One such cassette, preserved by Richie Hawtin, eventually made it our way. It has been carefully restored and mastered, with the artist’s approval.
To highlight this remarkable document of techno history, the recording is now available as a limited-edition, one-sided 12-inch release. The mix has been cut as a continuous side, visually divided into eight sections, while the reverse features a custom engraving.
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
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.
A raw, groove-driven selection of previously overlooked 1990s recordings by legendary Turkish jazz impresario Okay Temiz, compiled here for the first time.
As the story goes, throughout the 1990s, Okay Temiz roamed the nights of İstanbul in search of rhythm — moving through its far corners, from the seedy underbelly to gypsy neighborhoods, from the outskirts of the city to smoke-filled taverns where cigarette haze turns into a living cloud atlas — capturing a largely unknown and maverick period of his work.
Compiled by long-time producers Haluk Damar and Erinç Güzel, the album brings together Turkish folk textures, İstanbul tavern sound, spiritual jazz, raw street groove, and flashes of Turkish psychedelia — with moments shaped by Temiz’s own distinctive vocals. The result is a deep, percussive, and highly playable set.
Positioned between global jazz, rare groove, and dancefloor material, İstanbul Groove is a strong crossover release with appeal across both listening and DJ set contexts.
Superfan is the songwriting veil of Kali Priya Flanagan, the Brooklyn-based multi-instrumentalist and producer. While initially imagined as a solo act, ambitious string arrangements crafted in collaboration with cellist Omeed Almassi have come to define Superfan’s noisy and magnetic pop soundscape.
Today, Superfan announces their forthcoming album ‘My Piledriver Heart’ (MPDH), out October 16 via new label home AD 93 (Joanne Robertson, Dagmar Zuniga, YHWH Nailgun). Along with the announcement, Superfan presents his new single “In the Gold Room” paired with the live version filmed by Garrett Winston inside Agger Fish Building in the Brooklyn Navy Yard.
MPDH marks the first release outside of the record deal Flanagan signed at age 14. The album finds Flanagan embracing a more expansive, experimental vision of indie rock - melding deeply tuned acoustic guitar, cello, and Eastern musical influences into what he calls his “Acousticello” sound. Recorded largely live with cellist Omeed Almassi and producer Hudson Pollock, the record explores heartbreak, independence, and hopeful melancholia. Kali says “This time around it was about being (myself) versus becoming myself. This album was made to acknowledge the ebbs and flows in chugging along with life and love, from a place of comfort within the self that opens you up to the beauty in everyday life.” He does so through intimate performances that blur the line between folk, chamber music, pop-rock ballads, and alternative rock. Last year, he released the singles “Apeiron (Fantasy Football)” and “Miss W Jones” and earlier this year he released “Picture of Return.”
Following his acclaimed debut Tow Truck Jesus, Flanagan opened for The Strokes at Red Rocks, and has quietly become a fixture of New York’s DIY scene, performing alongside artists like Horsegirl, Knifeplay, and Quiet Light, while also playing support shows with King Woman and Victoryland this summer. He is also in the rising emo band Holidays in United States.
Before Superfan, Flanagan found success during the pandemic under his first moniker, “KALI.” His initial releases garnered millions of streams and led to collaborations with seasoned high-profile producers and industry teams. Despite his budding career as an indie-pop star, Flanagan was dissatisfied with the conditions of his artistic output and community as he reached adulthood. His coming-of-age years in Los Angeles were marked by an ever-present new-wave pop music oblivion: “hits” made in 5-hour sessions with strangers, a social life suffocated by others’ aspirations for fame, and an absent audience for live music that pushed past the prescriptions of recorded music. On MPDH, Kali says “I can’t help my urge to write these pop-rock ballads, but we really wanted to push the boundary of genre and expressing the sentiments of the songs through experimentation.”
Father John Mistys bahnbrechendes zweites Album aus dem Jahr 2015, ,I Love You, Honeybear", ist zurück auf Vinyl, remastered und neu verpackt als Einzel-LP. Ursprünglich wurde es als Doppel-LP veröffentlicht. Das Album wird mittlerweile als Klassiker angesehen und enthält die Fan-Favoriten ,Chateau Lobby #4 (in C for Two Virgins)" und den Titelsong ,I Love You, Honeybear". Bei der Veröffentlichung erhielt ,I Love You, Honeybear" viel Kritikerlob, u.a. Pitchfork Best New Music, eine perfekte Bewertung von Exclaim! und begeisterte Kritiken von NME, Mojo, Q, Spin und anderen. Es wurde als eines der besten Alben des Jahres 2015 von Pitchfork, Billboard, The A.V. Club, NME und Stereogum gefeiert. ,I Love You, Honeybear" wurde von Josh Tillman und Jonathan Wilson produziert und von Phil Ek gemischt. Diese Ausgabe wurde 2024 von Adam Ayan bei Ayan Mastering neu gemastert. Diese zweite Ppressung kommt auf schwarzem Vinyl.
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.
TIM HECKER’s latest work approaches a form of secular musical transcendentalism from within the battered temple of spirituality.
Recorded in a church in Reykjavik, Iceland and using a pipe organ as the primary sound source, this new piece is essentially a live recording. In reality, it exists in a nether world between captured live performance and meticulous studio work, melding the two approaches to sonic artifice as a unity. It is in parts a document of air circulating within a wooden room, and also a pagan work of physical resonance within a space once reserved for the hallowed breath of the divine.
While the title of the piece “Hatred of Music” might be a clue, the album is also partly an attempt to confront a pervasive negativity surrounding music. Historical rituals of destroying pianos, mountains of pirated CDRs pushed by bulldozers in Eastern Europe, or the melancholy of the digital music era began as sideline motifs which quickly informed the work on this record. They also really didn't at all. Despite that the context is wide open in such a form of musical abstraction, the substance of these immersive compositions showcases Heckerʼs continued mastery of organizing sound into a visceral near entity. It is an almost physical presence that the listener feels as much as hears.
This work is a significant contribution to Hecker's oeuvre, one which spans over ten years of musical production. Ravedeath is an enigmatic document of beauty and force. The album was recorded mostly over the period of one day in July of 2010. Iceland-based musician Ben Frost assisted with the engineering and performs on this recording.
RECEIVED AN 8.6 BEST NEW MUSIC RATING FROM PITCHFORK.
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.
Father John Mistys bahnbrechendes zweites Album aus dem Jahr 2015, ,I Love You, Honeybear", ist zurück auf Vinyl, remastered und neu verpackt als Einzel-LP. Ursprünglich wurde es als Doppel-LP veröffentlicht. Das Album wird mittlerweile als Klassiker angesehen und enthält die Fan-Favoriten ,Chateau Lobby #4 (in C for Two Virgins)" und den Titelsong ,I Love You, Honeybear". Bei der Veröffentlichung erhielt ,I Love You, Honeybear" viel Kritikerlob, u.a. Pitchfork Best New Music, eine perfekte Bewertung von Exclaim! und begeisterte Kritiken von NME, Mojo, Q, Spin und anderen. Es wurde als eines der besten Alben des Jahres 2015 von Pitchfork, Billboard, The A.V. Club, NME und Stereogum gefeiert. ,I Love You, Honeybear" wurde von Josh Tillman und Jonathan Wilson produziert und von Phil Ek gemischt. Diese Ausgabe wurde 2024 von Adam Ayan bei Ayan Mastering neu gemastert. Diese zweite Ppressung kommt auf schwarzem Vinyl.
On Oath's latest, the imprint keeps the jazz-fuelled atmospheres going with 'Seven Dogs', an EP that serves up an astonishing excursion through deeply hypnotic melodies and idiosyncratic grooves, courtesy of an iconic link-up between Rteph88 aka Robin Taylor-Firth and Steve Cobby.
Taylor-Firth and Cobby are musicians whose careers are so richly storied, broad-ranging, and impactful that it's difficult to summarise their output and impact in so few words. Both Taylor-Firth and Cobby firmly established themselves in the 90s, being involved in some of the era's most prominent and celebrated groups and for releasing some truly era-defining records. As such, their discographies reach far and wide, from house and techno cuts through to downtempo, drum'n'bass and leftfield, there is little that is left uncovered, and this spirit remains with them both as they continue to explore the outer parameters of their sounds.
Taylor-Firth, a songwriter, arranger, and producer, is perhaps best known for his long association with Warp Records and its sublabel Nucleus, and for his work as a member of Nightmares on Wax, where his signature keyboard playing style became a staple of the group's legendary sound. Alongside this, he has hundreds of songwriting and arranging credits on a dizzying array of records, and was a member of house music group Anon and Pio Bo alongside Richard Barratt - to name but a few selected highlights of his extraordinary career. Cobby's career is distinguished by his multitude of releases under a variety of aliases, along with his helming of a number of imprints, including Pork Recordings and his most recent label Déclassé. Experimenting with a wide variety of genres and sounds, perhaps his best-known work was with the duo Fila Brazillia alongside Dave McSherry, who released a plethora of immersive and innovative records in the 90s and beyond.
'Seven Dogs' represents a shared passion, vision, and musicality, two languages borne of similar spaces but reaching through time, space, and existence in creating a richly veiled musical experience that draws from lifetimes spent within the nucleus of music's soul. The EP speaks of the present as such as the past and indeed future, hinting with motifs that feel right at home within sun-kissed skies and within the walls of the chill out rooms. 'Early Doors', the EP's opener, displays the core fundamentals of the unfolding experience, namely the intrinsic relationship between keys and drums and how they express tone and mood. The piano gently caresses, ethereally floating with space to grow, as the drums lightly swing into life, providing an engrossing and rhythmically diverse groove that nods as much as it dives. The title track lands next and leads with a more driving feel. Sonically, the track leads with an oozing bass sequence that worms through the mid range before retreating under an array of compelling piano chords. The drums once again provide a strong backbone, allowing the melodic elements up top to fully express themselves - in a myriad of ways, murmuring and clamouring all at once.
'Visiting Hobo' brings the groove down a few notches. Slightly sombre in its delivery, the piano and bass interchange above a sparse yet hard-hitting groove, with as much emphasis placed on the emptiness as on the melodically full sections. The piano has a certain tonality here, with the notes containing a large amount of textural reverb that helps the track feel alive, almost growing out of the speakers. Wrapping things up is 'Titled', which begins with the keys and an array of whimsical features. The drums allow themselves time to grow into being, but when they do, they simmer within an enriching melange. It's a fitting end to a record that abounds with sonic consideration, environmental and emotive feeling, where two technicians bring their best and serve up four tracks of such sublimeness and thoughtfulness. One to drift deep within, on those hot summer days….
Metal is the debut EP from elisanyhm, an electronic and experimental musician who is based in Berlin.
The tracks that constitute Metal draw on a variety of materials and methods, yet they are commonly marked by an attempt to compose music in connection with a logic of refusal. This results in pieces that are both singular and capable of being set together.
A central tendency of the pieces on Metal is to stretch out time. This tendency could also be understood as: sounding time itself, without the rush of determination.
What might initially seem static can also, eventually, and ultimately be encountered as moving through dense layers. The deconstruction of direction leaves one affected by an indeterminate multiplicity of rhythms, voices, field recordings, and electronic sounds that are more than what one is supposed to construct.
Verdad Y Error (2026) resides in the tension between the thrashing of external noise and beating centred internal calm. Gibrana Cervantes is known for her work across experimental music and contemporary performance, a practice with focussed intensity and surging physicality, often pushing the limits of endurance, presence, and embodiment. A central axis of her performance practice is her ongoing collaboration with acclaimed choreographer Florentina Holzinger, including composing the music for SEA WORLD (2026), Florentina Holzinger’s critically acclaimed installation for the Austrian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale. Alongside this, she is a core member of the experimental ensemble Amor Muere (Mabe Fratti, Concepción Huerta, and Camille Mandoki). Cervantes maintains an active recording practice that directly informs her live output including her collaboration Memoria (2025), with Colombian Drone Mafia (Nyksan) for Ambie-Tón (Tratratrax),
Verdad y Error is a record of her artistic approach which expands her body and the violin’s horizon of possibility to near breaking point. Cervantes uses a register closely associated with Metal, yet buried deep in the alchemy of these pieces are motifs which hark back to her classical background. Across these pieces the violin is used as an instrument with a fragmented and shifting voice — blurred, repeated, and reshaped through distortion. “Many of these pieces come from images, memories, and sensations that have stayed with me for years. I'm interested in the blurring of what actually happened and what time transforms.” The recordings are built with layers of violin tones which oscillate between recognisable, processed, stretched and shifted, and lay embedded in a frequency stratum of volatile static and noise. “The violin on this album doesn't appear as a clean instrument. I process it, repeat it, distort it, and multiply it until it begins to feel more like memory than melody. Something blurry, shifting, difficult to grasp.” The origins of the album were born at a time when Cervantes was seeking inner calm amidst a relentless external noise, questioning the validity or possibility of memory and its radically changing perception in relation to experience. Subsequent reflection on this contemplative moment allowed her to develop a relational music which moves through memory, erosion, repetition, and emotional ambiguity. Creating a space that feels both intimate and unstable, mercurial with the patina of lived imperfection.
Akin to the unreliable narrator and linguistic instability, each piece functions as an emotional landscape suspended between clarity and confusion. An album which balances melody, brutality, fragility and noise
throughout its sprawling recordings and artwork, which operates as an analogue to the music. The visual world of the album developed in collaboration with Mauro Ventura was compiled across various media with a mix of handwritten texts, burned typography, metallic textures, and fragile physical materials. “I wanted the record to feel tactile and imperfect — something emotionally direct but physically worn.” says Cervantes. More than offering explanations, verdad y error exists as a conversation between memory and disappearance, noise and stillness, truth and error.
Fila Brazillia is the name of the decidedly singular collaboration between Steve Cobby and David McSherry, born in the coastal town of Hull in the UK. Bending—and often outright breaking—more or less every rule in the book, they've been effortlessly blending deep house, downtempo, breaks, ambient, and wry humour, sampling anything they can get their hands on. Their first outing was the 1990 single-sided white label 12" Mermaids, an airy deep house tune featuring a cheeky sample taken from the theme from Robison Crusoe. Since then, they've released a boat load of singles, seven highly regarded full-lengths, and more than 60 remixes for artists such as Radiohead, Busta Rhymes, and Lamb.
Black Market Gardening is their third full-length and marks a creative high-point for the duo. Over nine tracks, Fila Brazillia guides you through hazy, bass-heavy trip hop, cosmic synth lines, brisk breakbeats, funky guitar riffs, and even touch of drum 'n bass (it's the mid-1990s after all...). There's just so much to take in, leaving the listener wondering where the samples end and the live instrumentation begins. Yes, Fila Brazillia's output fits squarely within the chill-out tradition prevalent in the UK at that point in time, but their unmatched creativity and boundless approach to the studio process makes their music truly timeless.
Black Market Gardening is available as a 30th anniversary edition for the first time since 2001.
Without turning anything upside down, the trio has released their second album, gracefully deepening the unique path they have carved out for themselves. It is an album that already stands in stark contrast to the attention-deficit culture of our times. Indeed, whilst music sometimes seeks to concentrate the intensity of its references and artefacts, the trio takes a step back, deploying an intensity that is subtly distributed. Thanks to their progressive instrumental tracks blending elements inherited from dub, jazz, folk and even musique concrète, the trio has never allowed the quality of their music to suffer from their experimentation; at the same time, they have never been afraid to venture off the beaten track to achieve the sound they desire. Every single track of this album cast like fragile bridges over various landscapes that explore cycles and the natural rhythm within. It is up to the listener to tread carefully and not lose their footing and embrace the cinematic movement of this music. The three artists have indeed achieved a musical expression so free that it possesses the power of illusion. We are suddenly swept up in all these illusions, to the point where our memories are in flux. Both haunting and in motion, this trio’s music offers an impregnable mental retreat and an invitation to dance. This album conveys a dreamlike conviction that time, in its relentless flight, might—if only for a moment—be brought to a halt. A halt that awaits you.
„Once Upon A Time“ ist ein Schlüsseldokument des britischen Modern Jazz um 1970. Alan Skidmore
stellte das Quintett für das Montreux Jazz Festival 1969 zusammen, wo es gleich drei Preise gewann –
darunter als beste Gruppe und Skidmore als bester Solist. Der Erfolg führte zur Zusammenarbeit mit
Deram-Produzent Peter Eden. Mit Kenny Wheeler, John Taylor, Harry Miller und Tony Oxley vereinte
Skidmore einige der später wichtigsten Stimmen des europäischen Jazz. Das 1969 aufgenommene und
1970 auf Deram Nova (SDN 11) erschienene Album verbindet Skidmores Coltrane-geprägtes Tenorspiel
mit Modal Jazz und freien Formen.
Plush shag carpeting, jazz flutes, analogue synths, funk grooves, exotica, and sultry, Italian-style vocalising: Erotica 70 is the new album from Larry Manteca, known for their inventive, tongue-in-cheek reimaginings of classic Italian soundtrack aesthetics.
This time around, the Milanese collective sets its sights on the distinct sonic landscape of 1970s commedia sexy—a film genre that, for better or worse, defined an era and fed richly into the cinematic education of Larry Manteca’s members.
Through this lens, Erotica 70 also becomes a way of celebrating Piero Umiliani in his centenary year—a composer whose name is closely linked to the erotic comedies of the time.
The nod to Umiliani is baked right into the details, starting with the choice of vintage gear like the Eminent synth and the Wurlitzer electric piano. These instruments deliver that particular blend of jazz, groove, electronics, and sensual charm that made the golden age of Italian film music so unique.
Standout track “Lando” is a joyful, playful homage to actor Lando Buzzanca, who starred in numerous films scored by Umiliani, including the iconic 1973 comedy La schiava io ce l’ho e tu no (My Darling Slave).
Larry Manteca is spearheaded by multi-instrumentalists Alessandro Paiola and Riccardo Danieli, flanked by the cinematic flute of Carlo Pelsa, the swinging drums of Andrea Quattrini, and the magnetic vocals of Valentina Castelli and Alessandra Maria Manzoni.
Recorded across various studios in Northern Italy, Erotica 70 is the imaginary soundtrack to an Italy that no longer exists, recreating its atmosphere while rendering it in full, vivid colour. It’s a record whose music seems to come straight out of a provincial cinema, a smoky late-night club, or a long-lost 70s film. But while it looks back to a bygone era, it does so only to bring it straight into the present, making the past sound surprisingly fresh and contemporary.
This album was born from a long-held, quiet ambition. I always wanted to navigate the entire journey of a record – from the first written note to the final mix. Winterglare is the result of finally stepping into that journey. Recorded in my home, the process was inextricably linked to the life happening just outside the door. Being surrounded by the daily routine and family created a unique tension; time felt precious, limited, and often fleeting. At first, finding mental stillness felt impossible. Yet as the winter deepened, a shift occurred. I found a place of unexpected calmness, where the music began to float, and the domestic noises around me became an accompaniment rather than an interruption. What began as an idea for a piano album expanded to include the Wurlitzer electric piano and the Gigster vibraphone. Some pieces evolved into experiments with percussion, accordion, and finally, the Roland tape echo and field recordings. Throughout this growth, the vision remained: to preserve a sense of space and time, allowing the true ambience of the moment to breathe. My hope is that these compositions find a place in your own quiet moments. I hope they offer your mind and soul the same sense of peace they eventually granted me during those cold months.— Volodja Brodsky
