quête:tone of arc

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

Yellow Vinyl

Blue Lake reveals his most ambitious album yet, which finds its visionary creator Jason Dungan harnessing the collective alchemy of his band, with ten spirited tracks that resonate with a powerful directness, evoking an ecological connection to the wider world.

The solo project (Blue Lake), now on its fifth album, found its name and inspiration via Don Cherry's 1974 live album, sparking a creative epiphany in Dungan, who set off on a path into his own untapped sonic world, guided by what he cited as the emotional potential found within non-lyrical composition. With a newly inspired ethos aimed toward creating direct and simple instrumental music imbued with a deep sense of feeling, Jason began combining an array of musical elements that gave rise to his highly revered album 'Sun Arcs' (2023), with its "ornate, zither-led lattices" (Pitchfork, Best New Music). Conceived in the blissful isolation of a Swedish cabin set in the woods, this was music that soundtracked spring in full bloom. Then, in contrast to the solitary approach of 'Sun Arcs', the highly lauded mini-album 'Weft' (2025) began to set the tone for a more band-oriented approach to delivering the Blue Lake sound. Jason had by this time experienced a special collective energy with his band during a swathe of live performances, which he then sought to harness and distill on 'The Animal', leading him to take the project into a traditional recording studio (The Village) and its limitless potential along with his gifted cohorts.

'The Animal' at its core vividly celebrates human collaboration and is deeply rooted in a sense of community and non-hierarchical connectivity. The group's creative alchemy transcends outwards and beyond the musicians performing together, to summon an inclusive, existential and ecological connection to the wider world and its inhabited spaces. The album contemplates the idea of the human as an animal as Dungan explains: "I'm quite fascinated in thinking about humans more as part of the animal environment and not as something that's so separated into a "human" realm, or sitting on top of a hierarchical pyramid. So the Animal is also me, or us - that we are just living, existing, in the same way as a piece of moss or a sparrow or a cow.

'The Animal' is a form of musical metamorphosis, still acoustic, yet more amplified, elevating it to new dimensions. The Blue Lake project takes on a new lease of life to encompass collaboration with Jason Dungan bound in a universal connectivity, resulting in his most ambitious album to date. A harmonious rejoicing that cements his reputation as a transformative presence in contemporary music.

Yeun Elez opens a breach: that of a forgotten threshold, a gateway to Hell concealed beneath the peat and legends of the Breton marshes, from which Hoel Moce borrows the name for this project.

Born from Celtic tales passed down in hushed tones, it summons wandering souls, suspended spirits, and those who have already reached the end of their journey. Having escaped from Techno Thriller, Hoel founded Yeun Elez in 2022, as an autonomous and haunting sonic territory.

Surrounded by talented collaborators (Maria: NaturaMorta, Lou Savary de Reymour), he weaves a ritualistic and visceral music, traversed by dreamlike landscapes, misty battlefields, and a fantastical medieval Brittany.

Between pagan symbolism and spectral visions, the project explores the murky depths of the human condition. Thus, birth, love, decline, death: the themes emerge as archaic truths. Betrayal and revenge exist alongside devotion and the quest for an ideal that transcends us.

Mixed by Luc Bersier (Reymour) and then mastered by Tioma Tchoulanov (UVB76, Nze Nze), this album by Yeun Elez doesn't reconstruct the past: it invents it to better haunt it.

Music like a rite of passage, both rooted and timeless, like an inner journey, dark and necessary, to a place where myths refuse to die.

Al Wahem (“The Illusion”) is the new full-length release by PRAED, the Swiss–Lebanese duo of Raed Yassin and Paed Conca. Recorded between Beirut and Berlin, the album returns to the group’s central aesthetic: a rhythm-driven weave of Egyptian shaabi, electronics, improvisation and the gritty pulse of street-level sound. Nearly twenty years into the project, PRAED have distilled their approach into four pieces that subtly shift the listener’s bearings, reordering grooves and fragments until familiar elements take on new identities.
The twenty-minute title track sets the tone. A tightly interlocking two-drum foundation from Pascal Semerdjian and Ayman Zebdawi shapes a structure that expands steadily: synth figures branch outward, clarinet and bass lines act as internal guideposts, and brief vocal calls from Yassin and guest singer Mayssa Jallad sit inside the texture rather than leading it. PRAED’s shaabi keyboard language is present, but the duo stretch it outward, building tension and movement through patient accumulation.

“Al Hathayan,” at 4:46, tightens the focus. Conca’s clarinet moves between melodic arcs and clipped rhythmic gestures, threading through electronic loops that surface and disappear. Zebdawi’s percussion adds a raw, tactile quality, placing acoustic patterns and electronics in direct conversation. The piece acts as a bridge between the album’s two long-form compositions.
Side B begins with “Al Maraya,” a thirteen-minute piece that relies on electronic, bass and clarinet interplay. The atmosphere nods to the breadth of PRAED Orchestra!, but remains anchored in the duo’s rhythmic foundations. Rather than building mass, the layering creates a sense of depth, as if new spaces were opening inside the groove.
The album closes with “Assarab,” featuring keyboardist Amr Said. Semerdjian and Zebdawi again form a dual percussive axis, while synths hover between melody and pulse, and themes recur in widening circles rather than building vertically. The porous boundary between electronic and acoustic sources — processed clarinet mistaken for a sequencer, rhythmic figures springing from live drums — is where the album’s theme of “illusion” shows itself most clearly.

Al Wahem follows a long arc: early releases on Annihaya, a key appearance on Ruptured Sessions Vol. 5 – Live at Radio Lebanon (2013), later albums on Akuphone, and the large-scale PRAED Orchestra! documented on Morphine Records. This new Ruptured/Annihaya co-release brings the duo back to a concentrated format, reorganizing their familiar materials with renewed clarity and intent.

A label long synonymous with raw, off-centre electronics and uncompromising club tools, Bjarki’s bbbbbb recors welcomes a producer whose approach feels cut from the same cloth, London’s Henry Greenleaf. In an era where functionality often outweighs feeling, ‘Brawn’ is a record that doesn’t court approval; it insists on impact. Built for high-pressure systems and low ceilings, it channels force not as spectacle, but as design.

Greenleaf’s catalogue to date, spanning labels such as Par Avion, YUKU, and ARTS, sketches a restless trajectory between precision and collapse. His productions operate where rhythm becomes architecture: kicks land like poured concrete, subs buckle and flex beneath shifting percussive grids, and textures are stretched until they fray at the edges. Sound is treated as a physical material, layered and stress-tested, reshaped until the familiar mutates into something tactile and strange.

Across the EP, that philosophy takes full form. A1 ‘Brawn’ sets the tone with dense, piston-like drums and tightly coiled low-end pressure, balancing brute force with meticulous spatial control. ‘Jump Up To Be’ follows with a more fractured swing, percussive shards ricocheting across a framework that feels perpetually on the verge of rupture. On the flip, ‘Gawk’ strips things back to skeletal components, carving negative space between distorted pulses and menacing, warped rhythmic figures, before ‘UNTUNTUNT’ closes the record in driving fashion, delivering a raw, functional workout that reduces the groove to its bluntest, most hypnotic form.

True to the label’s ethos, ‘Brawn’ doesn’t chase trends or smooth its edges. It folds air and pressure into motion, pares club music down to its working parts, and leaves room for spontaneous chaos to erupt within the grid; moments where structure splinters, energy misbehaves, and control gives way just enough to keep things volatile. Engineered yet unpredictable, utilitarian yet unruly, the EP embodies the tension, unpredictability, and uniqueness that have long defined bbbbbb recors.

The first resonant space Zosha Warpeha played in was the Emanuel Vigeland Museum in Oslo, Norway. Built as a mausoleum, its walls reach up into a gradual archway, creating an environment where sound expands and reverberates for twelve seconds before decaying into silence. Warpeha was greeted only by dim lights when she entered, and it wasn’t until she had spent several minutes listening that she was able to make out the frescoes that covered every inch of the room: graphic depictions of the cycle of life from conception through death. As the sound of her Hardanger d’amore encountered the walls and these slowly emerging scenes, they obscured its point of origin in both time and space, augmenting its own life cycle. The experience sat in the back of her mind over the next several years as she developed her own patient style of composition and performance, one that comes into full bloom on her new album I grow accustomed to the dark.

When Warpeha was selected as an artist in residence at Brooklyn’s ISSUE Project Room in 2025, she saw it as an opportunity to more intentionally explore how her music might fill a room with ample natural reverb. I grow accustomed to the dark documents two single-take solo performances for Hardanger d’amore and voice at IPR, with both pieces composed in a unique tuning system developed to interact with the space itself. Listeners can trace resonance from the contact of the bow on gut strings into the body of the instrument, its five sympathetic strings offering another layer of refraction, before the sound is thrown about the cavity of the room. The echoes emerge like a photographic double exposure, or wisps of smoke that linger in the air, creating ghostly harmonic convergences that blur the line between what is there and not-there. Sound begins to act like light, a synesthetic alchemy that transforms drones into beams and ornamental trills into flickers.

Both side-long compositions, “filament” and “visual purple,” exemplify a duality that animates Warpeha’s music: an expressive, individualistic style that draws on extensive knowledge of her instrument’s history in folk traditions, and an austere, devotional quality maintained by focus and precision. Though very different in character and structure, both pieces evolve slowly through numerous repetitive phrases, passages of stillness, and bursts of intensity. “filament” opens with a cycle of delicate melodic fragments played and sung around a drone before blossoming into an outpouring of swooping arpeggios, harmonics flying from the strings like sparks off a bonfire. The disorienting pulsation of harmonic beating forms the core of “visual purple,” the close-tone dissonance building to a swarm of open strings ringing boldly throughout the space. After the knotty tones reach their climax, the piece collapses into studied quietude, hushed, but without any drop in intensity.

When Warpeha first visited the Vigeland Museum in 2019, she was in Oslo to deepen her relationship to the Hardanger fiddle through the study of Norwegian traditional music, which is primarily passed down aurally. The experience of learning songs by ear, not only internalizing the tune but also absorbing the techniques and tonalities by listening, was a crucial step in her development as a composer. The years since have seen her sharpen those skills as a prolific member of the New York avant-garde and improvised music communities. Warpeha’s music encourages listeners to join her in this journey, to listen closely with each repeated phrase and through each dramatic shift. Like the frescoes on Vigeland’s walls, with time and intention, the depth of I grow accustomed to the dark comes on like a revelation.

Technokunst Records returns for a second chapter in the Split Series, pairing long-time friends Reeko and Claudio PRC for a package of highly effective grainy Techno excursions. This meeting is a perfectly weighted exchange with two originals and two reinterpretations shared between them.
The opener ‘Grainphase’ is a slowly morphing textural work building towards a masterfully executed release of energy in the latter half of the track. Reeko’s version reshapes the main elements and reveals a harder spine beneath the original’s fluid architecture. Flipping the record gives way to Reeko’s original, a tour de force in sound design. ‘Tierra De Nadie’ paints a desolate and hazy surface filled with glitched recordings of alien language. Finally, Claudio’s rework is built in a similarly dark tone but with an increase of visibility, drifting aboveground.

Mastered by Artefacts Mastering and cut by Simon at The Exchange. The artwork is based on a digitally scanned painting on canvas by Technokunst’s own Dorka Berkes.

180gr pink & blue mixed coloured vinyl in poly sleeve w/ art print insert, LTD — 200 copies.

Technokunst Records returns for a second chapter in the Split Series, pairing long-time friends Reeko and Claudio PRC for a package of highly effective grainy Techno excursions. This meeting is a perfectly weighted exchange with two originals and two reinterpretations shared between them.
The opener ‘Grainphase’ is a slowly morphing textural work building towards a masterfully executed release of energy in the latter half of the track. Reeko’s version reshapes the main elements and reveals a harder spine beneath the original’s fluid architecture. Flipping the record gives way to Reeko’s original, a tour de force in sound design. ‘Tierra De Nadie’ paints a desolate and hazy surface filled with glitched recordings of alien language. Finally, Claudio’s rework is built in a similarly dark tone but with an increase of visibility, drifting aboveground.

Mastered by Artefacts Mastering and cut by Simon at The Exchange. The artwork is based on a digitally scanned painting on canvas by Technokunst’s own Dorka Berkes.

Following a triumphant first release, Archivio Records returns with another slab of golden era UK Techno House from a true master of the sound: Mark Ambrose

This versatile three track EP made up of 2 previously unheard and unreleased lost DAT productions, paired with a monstrous modern creation, from a man known for his uniquely trippy and boundary pushing take on the genre, presents the listener with a smorgasbord of peak time Tech House, hypnotic Techno and emotive Acid House.

The A side Mountain Storm is nothing short of an epic, instantly recognizable future classic! Punchy, percussion laden drums set the tone upfront, before a titanic, rumbling bassline blows the doors clean off! Disorienting vocals drift in and out before an eerily familiar string arrives by special delivery directly from the State of 808, building the tension required to set the stage for the main event: a haunting, poignant and highly relevant monologue for the times we find ourselves in today, delivered by a renowned, yet uncredited Jamaican poet.

B1 Get On Down takes the listener to the middle of the dancefloor, mid-set at a Techno-leaning after hours. Think Christian AB in a mischievous mood…

Obscure, industrial, fizzing drums start the show, followed by a stomping yet playful bass line, hip hop vocals urging you to get busy on the floor swirl around you, before a piercing arpeggio sends the listener to the cosmos, as the track peaks.

B2 Deep Sea couldn’t have a more appropriate name if it tried. A chugging, melancholy, submarine journey to the bottom of the Atlantic, presented at a lower BPM, making it equally perfect for the very beginning or very end of a set.

The Brooklyn-based record store proves their record label is no one hit wonder with this outstanding release from the Crayon Records head honcho. Unmissable.

Volcov, the Veronese founder of the Neroli record label, returns to the BBE fold with the third compilation in his majestic series 'From the Archives' and once again this new installment is another collection of overlooked gems and unreleased beauties that are set to entice the discerning listener. As with volumes 1 and 2, 'From the Archives volume 3' features cherry picked songs that focus on melodies and weave a thread between eras and genres. From the Archives volume 3 is a genre free journey into authentic grooves which features music from the enchanted tones of Carlo Nino & Friends, an exclusive from Collettivo Immaginario, uptempo moments from remix kings Kaidi Tatham and DJ Spinna as well as two unreleased songs from Fred P and J2 Fusion feat. Javonttee and DJ Genius. From The Archive 3 represents another accomplished work of love from Volcov aka Enrico Crivellaro, who has a long list of albums and compilations under his belt as well as being involved in productions, edits, releases and projects with artists such as Dego, Theo Parrish, Phil Asher, Gerald Mitchell, Domu, Kaidi Tatham, Kirk Degiorgio, Patrick Gibin, Lars Bartkuhn, Ian O’Brien and many more. From the Archive volume 3 is released as a vinyl double LP and a digital download and is a compilation in which the music lover will be guided hand in hand through a collection of unreleased and hard to find songs that shift effortlessly between jazz and house, broken beat, ambient and soul.

2025 Repress

DJ Support: Kerri Chandler, Chris Stussy, Archie Hamilton, Fabe, Groovesh, Vlad Caia, Andrey P Ush Krav, Thor, Masimillano Pagliara, Dubtil, Reboot, East End Dubs, IULY.B, Josh Wink

Chris Stussy ‘A Glimmer Of Hope’ EP in now being re-issued due to demand on LTD edition transparent red vinyl.

Amsterdam based producer and DJ Chris Stussy has become one of the most eminent figures in the contemporary house scene of the Netherlands and across the globe over the past 10 years, racking up releases on the likes of Eastenderz, Moscow, PIV, Contstant Sound and most recently his own Up The Stuss imprint.

Leading the release is ‘Central Frenzy’, laid out across six and a half minutes with skippy percussion, a snaking bass groove, intricate synth sequences and sweeping vocal chants. ‘Riva De Biasio’ follows and tips the focus over to airy atmospherics a jazz-tinged bass groove and squelchy acid licks atop swinging drums.

‘Deviant Shadow’ opens the flip-side and merges an amalgamation of expansive dub chords and bouncy sub bass tones with a robust 4/4 rhythm. Lastly to round things out is title-cut ‘A Glimmer Of Hope’, wrapping up the release on a deeper tip courtesy of ethereal pad swells, metallic synth licks and shuffled drums.

A chance meeting in Mexico City set Points of Inaccessibility into motion. When Ibero-American composer Rafael Anton Irisarri crossed paths with Dutch media artist Jaco Schilp at MUTEK in 2024, a conversation about how technology shapes perception revealed an unexpected common ground. Schilp invited Irisarri to a spring 2025 residency at Uncloud, the Utrecht-based collective he co-founded, where Irisarri's sound began to take form amid an environment shaped by Schilp’s visual research.

The Uncloud studio was located inside the former Pieter Baan Centre, a forensic psychiatric prison where suspects of violent crimes were once confined. Its long history of silence and containment shaped the atmosphere in which the project developed. Within this setting, Irisarri coaxed long bowed-guitar tones through a network of pedals and looping systems. The raw gestures thickened into a vaporous and architectural field of sound. Schilp processed the material through a custom point-cloud software patch that produced images in continuous flux. The visuals flickered, dissolved and reformed like memories that resist coherence, functioning as a digital Rorschach that reflected the observer’s own perception.

Amid these spectral echoes, the project evolved into an examination of how the past persists within present signals. Memory endures as residue and interference, continually shaping perception even when its source has faded.

Schilp’s visual process required a continuous stream of sound in real time. Irisarri improvised throughout the residency, generating material that allowed the visuals to develop in parallel. Once back in his New York studio, he began shaping the recordings by carving pathways through the improvisations and mapping selected passages into MIDI. This process allowed him to build outward from the bowed-guitar material with minimal overdubs, adding Prophet 5 textures, Moog bass and strings that expanded the harmonic field while keeping the original performances at the center. To refine the structure, Abul Mogard provided editorial input, working with Irisarri’s stems to guide transitions and strengthen the overall pacing. The material, originally created under conditions of immediacy and constraint, evolved into a fully realized work through careful revision, patience and sustained reworking.

The title engages the geographic concept of the Poles of Inaccessibility, locations defined solely by their distance from all surrounding points. Irisarri adapts this idea to the conditions of digital life, where new forms of inaccessibility arise through the informational enclosures that structure perception. What appears to be a fully connected network often produces a deeper kind of separation, one shaped by the filtering logic of the systems that mediate experience. In this sense, the digital sphere mirrors its geographic counterpart. We inhabit spaces saturated with signals, yet the possibility of genuine contact becomes increasingly remote.

At its core, Points of Inaccessibility considers what can be understood as the new rituals of capitalist realism. Irisarri uses the term digital shamanism to describe the forms of simulated connection that organize contemporary life. These systems promise comfort through algorithms, influencers and AI interlocutors, yet they often reproduce the same conditions that generate loneliness in the first place. What appears as connection becomes the echo of connection, a sequence of gestures that imitate solidarity while withholding it. Like the geographic poles, these rituals are defined by distance. They pull us into environments where everything is illuminated, yet meaningful proximity becomes increasingly rare. In this sense, the work approaches a hauntology of the present, a reflection on futures that have stalled and intimacies that have been thinned by the algorithmic infrastructures that surround us.

This thematic tension unfolds across the album’s four movements. Faded Ghosts of Clouds introduces the work with textures that rise and dissipate in slow cycles, creating an atmosphere that resists clear definition. Breaking the Unison occupies a pivotal position in the sequence and focuses on the moment when the individual and the system fall out of alignment. Its shifting patterns trace the scattering of signals that once suggested connection, revealing the instability at the heart of contemporary perception. Signals from a Distant Afterglow forms the center of the album and features vocals by Karen Vogt, whose presence enters the sound field like a fragile transmission shaped by distance and delay. The closing piece, Memory Strands, follows motifs that appear, recede and briefly intersect before returning to quiet. Across these movements, the album outlines a landscape in which emergence and disappearance continually inform one another.

Listening to Points of Inaccessibility is an encounter with a sound field that is constantly in flux. Elements surface briefly, shift position and recede, creating a sense of motion that resists stable interpretation. The music moves between closeness and vastness, carrying traces of memory while withholding a clear point of resolution.

The album’s visual identity completes the project’s conceptual arc. In Mexico City, where Irisarri and Schilp first met, Daniel Castrejón transformed stills from Schilp’s point-cloud visuals into the cover image. The final artwork captures a single suspended frame of the digital material, a moment extracted from a field that is normally in constant motion. Its surface recalls the texture and abstraction found in the work of Catalan artist Antoni Tàpies, where material presence and erasure coexist within the same plane.

What emerges is a work that examines the tension between technological systems and human presence. Points of Inaccessibility asks whether connection is still possible within environments shaped by mediation and delay, or whether we have become isolated points within the very networks that promise proximity. What possibilities for relation persist within environments organized by algorithms and interruption? And how are we meant to understand presence when so much of it is constructed at a distance?

Points of Inaccessibility will be released on BioVinyl on February 6, 2026, with audiovisual performances planned throughout 2026.

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu
Artwork by Jaco Schilp
Design and layout by Daniel Castrejón
Artist photo by Iulia Alexandra Magheru.

Força Maior combines the vital saxophone explorations of Pedro Alves Sousa with the infinitely subtle electronic processing of Pedro Tavares. Sousa (aka Má Estrela) is known for manipulating his woodwind through guitar pedalboards & amplifiers, creating far-from-ordinary sonics rooted in unceasing curiosity. For his part, Tavares (aka funcionário) conjoins video & sound work to create space for the pensive wanderings where memory and imagination interlace.

The album Morte Lilás was recorded over a week in June 2023 in Pedro Alves Sousa's family farm, located in the village of Ferreirim, near Lamego, in Portugal. The partly abandoned farm served as the residency, studio, and inspiration for the album: it is a 400-year-old granite farm that belonged to a member of the "40 conspirators"—a group that led the revolution for Portugal's independence from Spain in the 17th century.

Morte Lilás is a remarkable album of committed meditation. Each day on the farm was a recording day for the two Pedros: Sousa on sax & electronics, Tavares on sampler & processing. Apart from slight sonic incursions from the surrounds—the birds on 'Quinta à tarde'—and the sporadic use of sine tones, the source sounds all start from the saxophone. It is then processed both by Sousa & Tavares. The album unfolds as a saxophonic tapestry that breathes with quiet intensity. Each piece invites close listening, revealing fine gestures and tonal shifts that shape a contemplative, ambient space. Força Maior move with calm precision.

The album opens with the unhurried overture 'Quinta à Tarde' a Portuguese pun on Eno's Thursday Afternoon that announces the textures at play. Sousa's breathy entrance is paired with a soft, delicately shifting, backdrop. As the track progresses, time seems to stretch. The arrangement resists urgency, favouring subtle evolution over dramatic turns. Pensive layers shift & drift, creating a sense of suspended motion that brings the listener into the environs of Morte Lilás. 'Quinta à Tarde' is a long-form fade, shifting emphasis from Sousa to Tavares.

'Cubos' continues the gauzy feel, but with a more up-tempo tilt. Rhythmic clicks & pings setup a swung time for the sax to interpose melodic lines that are fed back & bent with cascading delays. Força Maior in distilled form.

Força Maior is in top form on the title track 'Morte Lilás', a sprawling centrepiece that showcases their command of atmosphere & emotional pacing. By turning up the reverberation & leaning into a continuous format, they dissolve the gap between hypnotic trance & articulate reverie. Then, a moment of stillness. The track pauses, not abruptly but like a tide pulling back, revealing the contours beneath. What follows is a return to the album's more relaxed architecture: understated rhythms, softened textures, and a sense of spaciousness that opens space for reflection. It is a transition that feels organic, as if the song itself needed to exhale before settling back into its contemplative groove.

'Menta' is another short-form miniature of the band's signature contours: beautiful loops of air pressure gradients that carry an emotive weight & light.

The album closes with 'Cascata do Inferno'. The title suggests violence, but the music whispers instead—an atmospheric cascade of breath & tone that emerges in slow, deliberate waves. Short melodic cycles are matched by shimmering electronic chords. It's a piece that rewards patience, draws the listener in to drift downstream, eyes closed, into the serene turbulence of its current.

2024 Repress

One of the defining releases on Large Music gets a special re-issue after a 16 year wait. Considered by many to be one of the top 3 packages in the early Large catalog, this EP set the trajectory for what would quickly become known as the "West Coast" sound of American House. The main vocal on side A also became a venerable classic at the Shelter in NYC and was played consistently by Timmy Regisford throughout his tenure there. The darker, more disco filtered tones on the flip side were also highly praised and played at the time by French DJs such as Daft Punk, Phil Weeks, Cassius and many others. Rasoul is often overlooked as one of the chief architects of modern Deep House, yet this release certainly secures his elite standing in the annals of House Music history. Essential!

2026 Restocked!

If you've been following the Payfone story over the last 13 years, you'll know that Phil Passera and Jimmy Day's long-running collaborative project has specialised in one-off musical morsels - sublime songs cooked up in cahoots with all manner of guest musicians and vocalists. Never ones to rest on their laurels, Day and Passera have now delivered a full six-track tasting menu in the shape of Lunch, their hotly anticipated debut album.

Recorded over an 18-month period at Passera's Barcelona studio and Day's studio in Brighton, Lunch is an unsurprisingly assured and musically detailed affair that's entirely made up of previously unheard songs. Unlike acid-flecked recent single 'Volt To Volt', which delivered a tweaked take on late 1980s house music, the album's six tracks showcase the trademark sound the duo has been developing since first joining forces 13 years ago.

Trawl back through Passera and Day's high-quality catalogue, which includes outings on Leng, Golf Channel Recordings and Defected as well as their own OTIS imprint, and that distinctive musical recipe becomes clear. Rooted in their love of classic drum machines and their trusty JUNO-60 synthesiser, the Payfone sound combines equal amounts of electronic and organic instrumentation, warm and inviting downtempo and mid-tempo grooves, and pertinent and thoughtful lyrics delivered with panache by an impressive roll call of guest vocalists.

Lunch, then, is a standalone sonic statement - an initially vinyl only album on their own OTIS imprint - that continues this impressive lineage. Like all Passera and Day's collaborative work, it is free of samples, with the pair preferring to create their own sounds from scratch. Opener 'Movin' On', featuring the honeyed vocals of former XL Recordings artist Willis Earl Beal AKA Nobody and slap-bass from Jo Gabriel Harris (who also features on three other songs across the album), is a deep and effortlessly evocative mid-tempo delight that perfectly sets the tone for what's to come.

Brooklyn-born April Pittman and Russian/Armenian vocalist Zara Kian lend their talents to woozy, sun-baked shuffler 'Paperman' before regular Payfone collaborator Ludmilla Rodriguez headlines 'Joan of Arc', a veritable Mediterranean breeze rich in tumbling analogue synth synths, elastic bass and tumbling guitar solos. Those yearning for a touch of lightly disco-flecked dancefloor heat will savour 'Spend The Night', where Los Angeles singer Collette Tibbetts AKA Carmella The Balls, accompanied by virtuoso keys courtesy of Parisian pianist Gabriel Cazes, rises above a sweet, melodious, dub disco-adjacent backing track. In contrast, 'Pamela' is low-slung and hypnotic, with 'Sofian' vocalist Barbara Alcindor ushering us through a deep, heady groove-scape.

Fittingly, Passera and Day round off Lunch via a vibrant and potent sweet treat, 'Pony Bar'. Headed up by the J.J Cale-esque lead vocals of man of mystery Leon Lace, the pedal steel-sporting song joins the dots between dusty Americana, kaleidoscopic Balearic beats and lilting, slow-motion disco. Like the rest of the album, you'll be thinking about it long after you've washed down the last few musical mouthfuls.

Audio taken from a live performance by Anar Band (Jorge Lima Barreto and Rui Reininho) with E.M. de Melo e Castro in November of 1978 at Cooperativa Árvore, Porto. The performance was filmed. A segment was included in »Obrigatório Não Ver«, a weekly programme presented by Ana Hatherly on Public Television’s Second Channel. It was not possible to determine the exact date of the event, and no documentation seems to be available in the relevant archives.

»Encontro que Tenho« and »Profissões«: these titles are specific to this release. Having failed to locate the respective poems after a thorough search in E.M. de Melo e Castro’s body of work, it was deduced both texts were created for the occasion.

Even without a full contextualisation, the sound transmits the spirit of cultural agitation proper to these sessions. When this show happened, Anar Band were Jorge Lima Barreto (ARP Odyssey synthesizer) and Rui Reininho (Ibanez double-neck guitar), with the addition of E.M. de Melo e Castro, whom we shall call a poet but whose creative intervention was far reaching. Besides poetry, also continued his efforts in linking up diverse artistic areas (painting, drawing, collage, performance, video) and his official training in textile engineering. He was one of the artists featured in Henri Chopin's »OU Revue« in 1966, establishing his natural connection to the European concrete/visual/sound-poetry avant-garde. Melo e Castro was also proficient in the agitation of minds and political awareness. A good example in »Profissões«, where initially separate professionals (an intellectual, a fisherman, a soldier, a factory worker) are gradually mixed in a show of interdependency. Symbolically, through his words one listens to a transformation of society, although the same conclusion arises twice: surplus always finds its way to the hands of the capitalists.

That was the state of affairs many were looking to change, an economic and social malaise that the 1974 Revolution in Portugal fully uncovered, when dissident voices could finally be heard in public. Each in his own way, all three participants in this recording were non-believers in the structure of society such as it was presented. Through his books and press writings, mainly concerned with Jazz, Jorge Lima Barreto pushed his way into Portuguese artistic and critical circles since the late 1960s. Consciously and unwittingly, he collected enemies and pointed them by name, people he labelled as reactionary, people who delayed progress, social and cultural mixes, the avant-garde; they even delayed the chaos from which new forms and attitudes arise.

Rui Reininho, a non-conformist by heart, experienced incomprehension from an early age. His anarchic ways, a tendency to baffle others, were revealed through the choice of clothes and accessories, public behaviour, and »real life« performances. Just as Lima Barreto, and even together with him, he enjoyed provoking the extremes: Maoists on one side, right-wing conservatives on the other. He translated leftist books and joined Anar Band precisely on the day a duck or swan or goose (one of them) was thrown on stage in Porto, 1976.

This record documents a concrete action, a snapshot of the agitation, something we have no problem calling punk activism, something which allowed two people with little to no musical training to play and record music. By then, Anar Band had managed to release their only LP in 1977. It’s this performance, however, that reveals the naked rawness of the music: improvisation, mutual listening, and choice of intervention between both musicians and Melo e Castro, clearly sensing when the synth has to change tone, the voice has to make pauses, the guitar punctuates both and finds the space to… scream. The sound was captured by the film crew, adding to the rawness: the instruments are palpable, the voice often too close to the mic. Everything was preserved. First time on disc.

Where maturity evolves into a signature sound, the personal and musical journey becomes one. Chromadelia by Italian producer and live artist Ness refines two decades of precision and craft. It is techno reduced to its core logic - direct, functional, and self-aware. Ness' process moves from spontaneous jams to detailed sculpting, a continuous sequence where improvisation gradually becomes structure. Randomness plays a role, but only as the foundation for his architecture. The result is music that feels both deliberate and fluid, shaped by intuition and refined through years of practice. Minimalism here isn't merely an aesthetic choice, but an organic conclusion -- drawn from experience and the trust that less can truly reveal more. The four tracks on Chromadelia extend this clarity onto the dance floor: sharp, beepy, metallic, rhythmically charged, yet open enough to let each element breathe. Introspection and club-functionality coexist seamlessly, each amplifying the other. In Chromadelia, Ness demonstrates that every tone, every pulse serves a purpose, offering a clear reflection of an artist who has learned to let precision speak louder than complexity.

2025 REPRESS ON TRANSPARENT GREEN VINYL


Compiled by Philip King “And then came the rise of synth pop : blokes with dodgy haircuts hunched over keyboard-operated machines stuffed with wires and do-it-yourself tone oscillators making sounds like a brood of geese passing gas in a wind tunnel. Whoopee! This is the way the ‘70s ended : not with a blood-curdling bang bang but with a cheap, synthesized, emasculating whimper.” NICK KENT, NME. All The Young Droids: Junkshop Synth Pop 1978-1985 is a new compilation that charts the underbelly of the epoch-defining sound of the synthesiser in 80s popular music. Compiled by Philip King (previously seen compiling All The Young Droogs, Glitterbest and Boobs - The Junkshop Glam Discotheque), the music here connects the dots between DIY synth enthusiasts grappling with new, cheap synthesisers at the tail-end of punk and wannabe, jobbing songwriters enthral to the new music pioneered by Gary Numan, Depeche Mode and Daniel Miller’s Mute Records. Featuring rare tracks of auto-didactic progressive pop music, proto-techno punk, shoot-for-the-stars-land-in-the-gutter chart flops and heralded, underground synth classics, School Daze paints a picture of beautiful failure. Complete with extensive sleeve notes written by King and never before seen imagery, all 24 tracks were remastered by RPM in-house engineer Simon Murphy, many from vinyl copies due to lost master tapes. The story told on All The Young Droids is one of the dawning opportunity presented by both the emergence to the market of cheaper analog synthesisers and the distribution networks plus indie labels that exploded with the advent of punk music in 1976. While the music that sprouted out all over the globe in the wake of these factors was decried as fake, plastic, a refutation of punk’s guitar-led revolution, it’s telling that much of the music on All The Young Droids.. was created in bedrooms, ramshackle studios and home-made set ups with often borrowed equipment. In the era of record labels jumping to capitalise on the success of The Sex Pistols, The Clash (both on major labels, of course) these artists struggled to stand out from a new gold-rush with next to no budget or PR team. With radio and labels desperate for the new Yazoo, what resulted was a testament to necessity being the mother of invention. At the time, the synthesiser was the music of the future, a shiny new machine that could paint like an orchestra with a single finger and a 4-track. In the hands of Manchester avant-pranksters Gerry & The Holograms it’s a pulsing, sardonic weapon.. the only instrument on the Messthetics classic lampooning of New Wave fashion. In Hamburg, a 16 year old Andreas Dorau used it to write and record (with his female classmates on vocals) a global smash in Fred Vom Jupiter (later licensed to Mute Records). The hard-to-find English version (Fred From Jupiter, natch) is included here. Many artists with alreadystoried careers caught the bug and recorded synthesiser-fuelled peons to space, computers, the future and, of course, love-interests. Harry Kakoulli, late of Squeeze, recorded a solo album in 1979 that included the incredible power-synth-pop smash-that-never-smashed I’m On A Rocket. Similarly, Ian North of Neo and American Power Pop stalwarts Milk ’n’ Cookies bought a Korg MS20 and used a tape machine to record We’re Not Lonely, an absolute lost-classic of minimal synth pop. We’re Not Lonely also features on the Junkshop Synth Pop sampler 7” twinned with John Howard unreleased track You Will See, released April 12th 2025. There are plenty of compilation debuts in evidence. Sole Sister were a mysterious trio who were featured on the Scaling Triangles compilation of female-fronted, queer-adjacent post-punk / underground music that also featured The Petticoats. Selwin Image were from San Francisco and featured members of the recently defunct power pop/punk group The Pushups. Their stupidly catchy The Unknown fizzes with New Wave energy - think XTC to Sparks but remains unreleased until now. Dream Unit’s A Drop In The Ocean is an early synth wave cut, positively teaming with Joy Division instrumentation, previously only released on a long-forgotten and super rare, self-released EP. Incandescent Luminaire’s Famous Names belies an archetypal struggle of a small-town trying to make it in a cruel industry but is a thrilling New Romantic-Synth Wave cross over with a OMD gloominess that’s a joy to hear. Feminist Minimal Wave track I Am A Time Bomb by performance artist Peta Lilly and Michael Chance is a revelation destined for new found cult status. It was released on 7” and lost until now. The flipside to the subterranean, never-made-it synth pop mentioned above are the ambitious, even fruity attempts at success that have a perennial elegance to their confidence. New Jersey-ite Billy London (real name Ed Barth) tried to cash in on the synth boom with Woman, released by a major label, a lurching new wave track built on the Louie Louie rhythm and a wonderfully camp Lou Reedstyle sleazy vocal before exploding in the synthesised chorus. The song bombed but with a chorus like this, you have to wonder why? Ex-Glitter Band member John Springate’s My Life is truly epic, with doomed chord progressions and massive sounding drums turning into at least 3 different songs in the course of the track. Before you wonder what’s going on the song resolves with a glorious return to the main refrain. The dry-ice-dressed dance floor is well catered for too. Design’s Premonition and Vision’s Lucifer’s Friend are stone-cold minimal synth bangers, well loved but given a new lease of life here. The Warlord’s The Ultimate Warlord was released in 1978, a homespun proto Hi NRG banger that was later re-recorded by The Immortals in Canada who had a club hit with it. One-man- band Disco Volante’s No Motion was re-issued by Synth wave label Medical in 2012 but makes its first vinyl compilation appearance here. Close your eyes and you can imagine what Lawrence of Felt would have sounded like with some cheap Korgs a little earlier in his career. Gibraltar-based trio The Microbes imagined a computer programming people to dance - how prescient - and ended up with a propulsive, robo-funk track with splendid rubbery bass playing over a tectonic drum machine. Previously picked up by Belgian label Stroom TV, Dee Jay Bert & Eagle’s heavily Euro-accented I Am Your Master demands the listener to “come to paradise!” In a frankly terrifying manner. All The Young Droids is the first compilation to peel away from the narrative that dour, Minimal Synth and Cold Wave were the only musical children of the first rush of synth pop. Philip King and School Daze Records describe a much more complicated world: along with the austere, Brutalist children of Daniel Miller (who produced Alan Burnham’s Bowie-Low-influenced Science Fiction here) was a plethora of desperate cash-ins, accidental mainstream hits, ambitious pop dramas and major label punts that went nowhere. Crucially, the compilation blurs the line between junk and treasure. What if the two things are interchangeable. What if it’s all science fiction?

“There's a clarity here that feels hard-won. Honing ideas first explored with his Organic Music series, Tiago Sousa unlocks the final puzzle pieces on Sustained Tones Vol 1. This music is enchanted, the way each layer moves in conjunction with the others: complex structures that feel less constructed than discovered, like stumbling upon ancient mechanisms still whirring beneath the earth. "Readily Reliance" opens as an effervescent sea, waves gilded in neon creating an enveloping sense of eternal motion. Bright organ timbres throw silhouettes and cast Sousa as the deft puppeteer keeping everything moving with an effortless precision. These evolving shapes suspend listeners somewhere between the physical and the cosmic, held in place by nothing but intention and sound.

Drones build rippling foundations in other places, using slower tempos to construct immersive, off-kilter sound worlds where minimalism becomes emotive, almost poignant. The fluctuating tones have a gossamer sheen, creating this interesting sonic dichotomy: a solid surface with fragile rotations beneath. It's music that commands attention; it is so much more than simply aural furniture. Sousa writes these beautiful sequences that are all interconnected, intricate sonic architecture that pulls us further into some kind of unknowable ether.

On the piano pieces, "Smooth Flow Into It" and "Swirling Mist and Thin Dust," Sousa shines sunlight through all the cracks. Washes of melody are effervescent, clouds clearing to reveal the day has not gone. Not yet. Positioned in the middle of Sustained Tones Vol 1, these pieces ground the album in something transcendent yet still earthen: moments of breath inside all that cosmic drift. Darkness finds its way through on "Restlessness," where Sousa smears sinuous electronics into a ghostly sonic mesh that seeps through the skin. It feels like a slow inhale, time suspended long enough to take note of where we are and how we feel before moving forward. Expressive, almost sparkling synth arrangements return to send us back into reality on closer "Becoming a Landscape." Its title hints at larger concepts at play throughout this album, where lines between our physical beings and the wider environment are blurred. The tones that echo throughout these six pieces mirror the echoes inside our bodies, from heartbeats and voices to something quieter, something much smaller and more elemental. By immersing us inside these mesmerising, beautiful soundscapes, Sousa immerses us within ourselves.’’

Brad Rose, 2025

For over six decades, Charlemagne Palestine (b. 1947, New York) has been a pioneering composer, performer, and multimedia artist, celebrated for his ecstatic sonic explorations and ritualistic, metaphysical performances. Emerging from the cross-disciplinary New York art scene of the 1960s and ’70s, he helped shape a heretical edge of minimalism alongside figures like Conrad, Riley, Niblock, and Glass. Trained as a Jewish cantor and later as the carillonneur at St. Thomas Church, Palestine cultivated a deep fascination with resonance and overtone—an obsession that evolved through his use of percussion, early synthesizers, and monumental piano works, influencing artists from John Cale to Nick Cave.

Animated by a spirit of ecstatic play and what he calls his »meschugge« (Yiddish for »crazy«) sensibility, Palestine’s universe blends the sacred and the absurd, filled with soft toys, ritual gestures, and immersive sound environments. Rejecting the »minimalist« label in favor of a maximalist, »spontanimalist« approach, he creates long-form, resonant performances that transform spaces into vibrating, living organisms—opening portals into the nature of time, sound, and devotion.

In the same vein, the aptly titled live record »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« – performed during the Sonic Acts Festival at Amsterdam’s Oude Kerk in 2025, and taking its title and cover art from a drawing realized by Palestine himself during the concert – adds to his opaque yet vibrant personal mythology and intimate transcendence, marking a return to the Staalplaat catalog after »Fffroggssichorddd« (2020) and »Music for Big Ears« (2001).

Beginning with a resonating bell and his falsetto overtone singing, then surrendering to the endless, wild soundscapes of tone-feeling and beat frequencies generated by the church’s organ, across 40+ minutes, single sound sources evolve into clusters, entangle fully with one another, and establish their own spatial existence and aural architectures. We witness the traces of something that can be described as a perpetual performance, a test for the ever-changing interaction between artist, instrument, space and, ultimately, us.

Since Palestine has always defined his execution as a form of anti-composition - of simply »being in the music« as if inhabiting a space - the true power of »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« lies in encapsulating a moment of Palestine’s practice in its most authentic, live dimension. Sound becomes at once subtle substance and strange telluric force, animating physical forms from some unknown channel beyond and within, accessible only through our sensorium. The point in this liminal temple of tone, timbre and frequency is not to learn anything but to simply enter. Palestine earns once again his self-given title of contemporary shaman by keeping this sonic portal open, allowing us to witness and make it last.

»I have always felt and heard and mixed the sounds in my world as liquids not as solids. Sonic liquids are material that is endlessly transformable. But I’m not crazy about people who go around defining stuff.«