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Healing Patterns is the debut full-length release on Appendix.files from Clima, following 2025's Transient State EP. Written between 2025 and 2026 during a period of chronic illness, the seven-track LP translates physical restriction into deep, spacious electronic compositions. Using palatial pads, slow-decaying echoes, and bodily low-end, Clima reminisces over residual club ambience and shared listening experiences with friends.

The record moves from the gradual, dub-heavy pressure of "Weight" through ASMR-like vocal glitter and tight rhythmic clusters, before dissolving into the quiet introspection of the title track's theme. Healing Patterns is a patient study in focus, repetition, and the spaces left behind.

Artist Info: Clima is an experimental electronic music project exploring spatial sound, texture, rhythm and the emotional residue of club culture. Their work moves between ambient environments, dub-weighted rhythm and abstract electronic composition, with a focus on deep listening and subtle shifts in perception.

The Rio-based project Pra Gira Girar presents a new interpretation of the song Atabaque Chora, originally made famous by the trio Os Tincoãs. Written by Dadinho and Mateus Aleluia, the piece opens the group’s iconic 1977 album Os Tincoãs —and has now been chosen to mark the beginning of Pra Gira Girar’s own recording journey.

Formed by Alvaro Lancellotti, Michele Leal, and Alan de Deus on vocals, Pedro Costa on guitar, Kassin on bass, Zé Manoel on piano and vocals, Zero Telles (in memoriam) and Anna Magalhães on percussion, and Diogo Gomes on trumpet, the project was born from Alvaro Lancellotti’s long-standing admiration for the work of Os Tincoãs and his wish to create a live show celebrating the legendary trio.

For a year, Alvaro, Michele, Alan, and Pedro made up the core of the group, meeting weekly for rehearsals that became a deep dive into Os Tincoãs’ intricate vocal arrangements. These sessions were essential to recreating the grandeur and complexity of the Bahian trio’s music. Pedro Costa transcribed the vocal lines and, together with Michele Leal — a singer-songwriter with a background in choral singing — adapted the arrangements for a formation that, unlike Os Tincoãs, features a female voice.

Corps Perdu emerges from Lamin Fofana’s ongoing practice of creating immersive and multisensory sound environments, informed and inspired by the historically rich texts of scholars and poets working in the tradition of Black Studies. The words of W.E.B. Du Bois, Sylvia Wynter, Dionne Brand, Fred Moten, Édouard Glissant, Suzanne Césaire and Aimé Césaire are transmuted and circulated as sound, offered to listeners through radio, live events, albums and installations. Fofana honours his sources with an audible historical awareness, yet his sounds always simultaneously open out into the turbulent uncertainties of the present.
The music we hear on the album Corps Perdu was previewed within a series of collective reading and listening sessions carried out in Paris, Barcelona, Tunis and New York City, where voices from the audience read aloud fragments from a body of texts Fofana had selected. The spontaneous unfolding of close reading and listening, mixed live by Fofana in these collective listening experiences, speaks to the open-ended quality of Corps Perdu. The album, now published, is but one iteration of this ongoing inquiry into the relationship between sound and text.
Corps Perdu presents an introspective journey with no return, and as such is full of omens of all kinds. Across ten tracks Lamin Fofana creates a sibling or companion to the transformation he initiated in his previous album Works in Metal, building a narrative that takes us into Krakatoa prior to its eruption, and lets us listen to Césaire’s ‘flying seed dreaming very loudly’. The album’s track titles and narrative arc hum in and out and alongside Césaire’s poetry, mainly Césaire’s 1950 collection Corps Perdu, in which the ten poems are accompanied by engravings by Picasso merging fragments of bodies and plants—a collaboration that emerged from their first encounter two years earlier, at the Communist-led World Congress of Intellectuals for Peace, in Wroclaw, Poland.
The music on Corps Perdu labours intuitive hand-held melodies through dense processing. There are many rhythms throughout, though these never surrender to the density of the dancefloor grooves we’ve heard Fofana craft on previous albums (think of the ‘Obscure Light’ pair from Works in Metal for example). Instead, Fofana gently releases the clenched hands Césaire’s Corps Perdu begins with: ‘Among me, from myself, to myself, outside any constellation, clenched in my hands only, the rare hiccup of an ultimate raving spasm, keep vibrating word’. The album carries through sound the scattering and liquid fragmentation that shape the desperate metamorphosis of a ‘lost body’.

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.

The track titles on Post Dub Cities – the new album by Adriano Zanni, photographer, sound artist, and field recordist – evoke the aftermath, that moment when a place continues to exist and live on, but no longer serves anyone. The human element has vanished, whether it happened overnight or through a slow abandonment that lasted for years. The perspective shifts: buildings, homes and palaces reveal a dimension of reality all their own, in which even the ruins give shape to this landscape that endures, transforming into pure presence.

This, after all, is our fate. The fate of us human beings, of our civilisation, of every civilisation: to pass away, to be forgotten, to erect monuments whose significance no one will remember once we are gone.

The opening track Crisopoli transforms the sonic dimension of a city into an echo chamber: a dark, urban dub built from delays and resonances, holding the imprint of what is no longer there — like a bassline that keeps vibrating even after its source has gone silent. What we see is not the presence, but its reverb.

Available from September 11, second excerpt Warosha gives us a minimalist, enveloping, solemn beat, like the symbols on a map that no one can read anymore. Warosha was the district of luxury hotels overlooking the sea in the city of Famagusta. After the island of Cyprus was invaded by the Turkish army, the entire area, emptied of its inhabitants, who had fled south, was fenced off and surrounded by barbed wire. No one has been allowed to enter it since 1974. Now, on these unspoilt beaches, sea turtles have found the perfect place to breed.

Fordlândia, on the other hand, is the symbol of Henry Ford’s failed dream of conquest. An industrial settlement built deep within the Amazon rainforest, several hours’ boat journey from the nearest towns, to gain access to natural rubber for the tyres of his mass-produced cars in Michigan. An extremely costly project, it quickly became a ruinous pipe dream: a town that has been uninhabited for almost a century and has since been reclaimed by nature.

For a long time now, Adriano Zanni has been exploring, through music and photography, the landscape that unfolds before our eyes, as attentive yet silent observers. As if we were absent, a civilisation that has long since vanished: human presence has dissolved, preparing to fade into oblivion. The precise depiction of places through field recordings, and the black-and-white imagery, give rise to apparitions, hallucinations, and memories. The less present we are, the more we seek meaning. We resist abandonment and the indifference of time.

In the ten tracks (plus three bonus tracks) of Post Dub Cities the echoes and reverberations of dub grant us access to an unknown future, as yet untold – in which we are nothing more than a vague memory. The deep sound guides us through a landscape that is familiar yet unknown, unrecognisable. The cold, distant, industrial rhythm resonates within us as if we were the last, all too aware, inhabitant of a now-deserted village.

Every place – be it an abandoned mining settlement on an island in Svalbard, or a ghost town in Pennsylvania evacuated following an underground fire that has been burning for sixty years at a depth of one hundred metres – leaves questions unanswered, shrouds itself in mystery, and makes us wonder, ceaselessly: what happened here?

In the end, we realise that we don’t really care that much about knowing the details of the disappearance. We can guess them, we’ve seen it happen a thousand times before. Just like in the photos accompanying the album, portraits of ghostly, deserted cities: Belgrade, like Venice, Dublin, Sarajevo, Lisbon, Kraków, Sofia, Naples, Hanoi, Lampedusa, Tehran. Unexpectedly, pleasantly emptied of people, and of their obsessions, struggles, illusions.

Then, suddenly, the crowd returns. Busy, feverish, hardworking. The record ends, the spell is broken. We feel a sense of longing for a future that has not yet come to pass, for a place we were only able to observe because we were not there.

The fifteenth release of Barro comes with an exclusive: behind the Transylvanian mask of Orlok 101 lies Nöle himself, the boss of the label.

Remember that he used this vampiric AKA to kick off Barro—his The End Of The Beginning being the first release, published in late 2018. That same year, his techno-industrial sound—packed with references from the famous work of Bram Stoker and nightmare atmospheres—helped launch another label: Soil, the Valencia-based imprint, with a project that included a suitably fitting remix of The Horrorist. The following year, he released an EP with five original tracks, titled Runaway, while also “spreading blood” on Antikhrist Visions Vol I alongside his Industrias Mekanikas comrades.

His dark influence has been felt across Barro’s catalogue, whether through his own tracks or remixes—sinking his teeth into artists like The Hacker (under his real name, Amato) or Nebula Circuit. In 2025, Orlok made his debut on Aspecto Humano with a powerful EP, equally gritty and dark. In Barro, we’ve recently had Nöle—the most techno side of Imanol Pagola—with the EPs Electro Bloody Music and Demencial Chico Aceleradom, two great showcases of his ability to keep us dancing nonstop, following the popular Mendekua, released by Xtraperlo.

For Barro 15, the two sides of the producer and DJ come together on this EP, titled Sex With a Cop—four tracks released on vinyl and digitally, plus an alternate version of the final composition as a bonus track.

Nöle's knowledge of the dancefloor and Orlok 101's ability to create atmospheres that will give you goosebumps come together on this EP to create an explosive mix.

Sex With a Cop starts with Hilerri, a techno EBM track where Orlok provides repetitive, screeching sounds and a ghostly melody, while Nöle adds incisive synths and a catchy, addictive vocal sample that warns you of the danger of the material you’re listening to. Orlok then takes over with his industrial and metallic sonorities on the next track, Amets Fabrika, although Nöle’s influence still comes through with his powerful bass and addictive synth lines. A stifled scream and a production packed with a thousand details create an unsettling atmosphere that will surprise you on the dancefloor.

The flip side begins with No Voy A Quedar Con Nadie, a track closer to Nöle’s technooid world. Even with its unsettling opening, it doesn’t take long to turn into a danceable bomb, with that dark touch typical of the Navarro producer.

Surprisingly, he saves the best for last: Harina de Huesos Humanos is one of the most interesting tracks created by Imanol Pagoda, and we can hear it in two versions, one as a bonus track. Thanks to complex production full of details and sounds that come and go, a punchy, hard as granite kick drum, and a carefully crafted industrial atmosphere, it all ends up being the perfect union between the two sonic worlds. A spectacular finale for the label’s fifteenth release.

DJ DIE SOON is the apocalyptic alter-ego Daisuke Imamura, whose performances of masked malice have been a fixture in the Berlin underground for the past decade. His latest record My Brothel The Wind takes inspiration from Sun Ra at his most grotesque, conjuring a distorted phantasmagoria with an eclectic crew of compatriots like Rully Shabara, Sara Persico, and longtime collaborator Kiki Hitomi. Film director Hiroo Tanaka’s visual contributions in the album art, poster, and music video complete the album’s narrative, telling a story not of villainy but of phantom caprice in a dying world.
My Brothel The Wind shows DJ DIE SOON as an alchemist of distortion, transmuting the club-forward beats of his 2020 debut Kappa Slap and the seething horrorscapes of DIEMAJIN, his 2022 collaboration with Tokyo vocalist MA. Imamura’s obsession with noise stems from his upbringing in Tokyo, where he grew up hearing the deafening roar of trains every day. “The buildings were really tall, so the sounds reflected so much and it was so loud that you couldn’t even have a conversation on the phone. Hearing this noise every minute when living in this flat, it became a normal thing,” he says. While most would content themselves with avoiding loudness, DJ DIE SOON seeks to unpack its visceral potential.
DJ DIE SOON’s subterranean productions form a monstrous gestalt with the eclectic contributions of his network of co-conspirators. “Unfinished” and “Directions” are pulsating chimeras that highlight animalistic vocalizations from Hitomi and Shabara; Italian MC Franco Franco’s verses snake underneath the noisy onslaught. The tectonic textures of “Dandelion Crackers” are courtesy of multi-instrumentalist Laure Boer’s handmade stone synth. Sara Persico’s mangled vocables hang as fleshy reminders of human fragility on “SAQ4IME”; in the Hiroo Tanaka-directed music video, the track’s sonic uncanniness is made cinematic, with an ambient dread that references Hiroshi Teshigahara’s 1964 psychological thriller Woman in the Dunes.
While Sun Ra’s intergalactic Moog reached for the stars, DJ DIE SOON plunges into the depths of hell. “Everybody, Shake Your Body, We Chill At Party” feels like the sonic equivalent of a wax museum burning to the ground, rigid smiles melting into the fire. Rather than a vision of the future, My Brothel The Wind is a laugh-cry of despair in the face of a Hadean present. DJ DIE SOON confronts the world with a new hand-made mask, reborn in the ashes.

NOAHFINNCE’s ‘STUFF FROM MY BRAIN / MY BRAIN AFTER THERAPY’ is a collection of songs written before and after therapy.

The debut double EP collection features guest vocals from Chris Freeman of Hot Mulligan and builds the world of NOAHFINNCE’s unique, hyperactive brain.

The project tackles issues like depression, anxiety, ADHD, past trauma and the path toward prioritizing mental health.

Deeply personal, but always expressed with a cheeky, quirky, not-so-serious sense of humour, NOAHFINNCE showcases the big personality that has amassed a huge YouTube following and led
him toward being a leading voice in Trans/LGBTQ+ youth issues.

With songs like ‘AFTER THERAPY’ and ‘LIFE'S A
BIT’, NOAHFINNCE is poised to break out as this
year’s new star of the new wave of pop punk.

For fans of YUNGBLUD, Waterparks, Set It Off.

LP pressed on cloudy blue vinyl.

Vinyl Packaging: Gatefold LP + download card. Indie Exclusive Transparent Orange vinyl in gatefold jacket Limited to 1000. CD 6 panel Digipak. Gnosis is the highly anticipated 8th full length from Russian Circles. Across the span of their previous seven studio albums, Chicago-based instrumental trio Russian Circles traversed a diverse topography of sounds, moods, and approaches with their limited armory of drums, bass, and guitar. It’s difficult to chart an evolution in their sound when their records have always felt like well-curated playlists. It wasn’t uncommon to hear drone-heavy meditations, dazzling prog exercises, knuckle-dragging riff-fests, haunting folk ballads, and tension-baiting noise rock all within the span of one album. Still, it’s difficult to ignore the progression from the pensive and intricate melodies of Enter (2006) to the layered distorted dirges of Blood Year (2019). It’s been a gradual sonic shift owing to the band’s rigorous tour schedule and a predilection towards playing their more authoritative material on stage. But with their latest album, Gnosis, Russian Circles eschew the varied terrain of their past work and bulldoze a path through the most tumultuous and harrowing territory of their sound. As was the case for so many artists in the age of COVID, the obstacles of geography and isolation forced Russian Circles to reevaluate their writing process. Rather than crafting songs out of fragmented ideas in the practice room, full songs were written and recorded independently before being shared with other members, so that their initial vision was retained. While these demos spanned the full breadth of the band’s varied styles, the more cinematic compositions were ultimately excised in favor of the physically cathartic pieces. Gnosis was engineered and mixed by Kurt Ballou. Drums and bass were tracked at Electrical Audio in Chicago to maximize the natural room sounds of the rhythm section. Guitar and synth overdubs were conducted at God City in Salem, MA to take advantage of Ballou’s vast inventory of amps and effects pedals. Despite the entirety of the album being written remotely, the songs were recorded with the full band playing together to retain the live feel of the material. Owing to the climate of the times and a new writing method, Russian Circles created their most fuming and focused work to date—an album that favors the exorcism of two years’ worth of tension over the melancholy and restraint that often colored their past endeavors. European Co-Headline tour with Cult of Luna slated for Marc 2023 (Dates TBA). Russian Circles have received coverage from most notable press including Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, Stereogum, FADER, AV Club, Consequence, Decibel, Revolver and much more.

Dire Straits' arresting self-titled debut arrived in the midst of punk's reign but couldn't have been further removed from the era's slash-and-burn style. Recorded in West London in February 1978, the band's tasteful, jazz-inflected set embraces folk, blues, and pub rock while also tracing a direct line back to the beat-oriented sound of early rock n' roll. Country and roots accents further distinguish the British quartet's stripped-down music from any 1970s peers, as does the transparent production, which has remained revered among audiophiles the world over – and which has never been better than on this meticulous pressing.

Mastered from the original master tapes and pressed at RTI, Mobile Fidelity's 180g 45RPM 2LP version of Dire Straits features natural tonalities, superb balances, you-are-there imaging, deep-black backgrounds, and pristine clarity. Even if you've heard this album hundreds of times before, you've never experienced it with such lifelike sonics and premium richness. This numbered-edition collector's set immerses you within the smoky, laidback atmospherics of every song. This is how all vinyl should sound.

Crucial to every arrangement, Mark Knopfler's winding guitar lines emerge with supreme transparency and multi-hued textural detail. His intricate playing comes across as if it's being transmitted via his 60s-era Fender Vibrolux amplifier placed right before you. The cleanliness, dimensions, and live feel are that good. His bandmates, too, benefit from the extra groove space afforded by this 45RPM edition. Rhythms skate and swirl; percussive effects resonate with crispness and attack; the leading edges of notes naturally decay.

Dire Straits' strong, well-edited batch of original material further enhances the overall enjoyment and makes the record one whose pleasures go far beyond the organic sonics. Just as Knopfler's narratives pour forth with poetic and surrealist texts, the musical settings – an intoxicating combination of easygoing shuffles, back-hall boogies, and pop-honed ballads – mirror the old-fashioned soulfulness inherent in the classic recordings of the late 50s and early 60s. The lyrics are equally captivating.

Drawing from his time as a youth in Newcastle, Leeds, and London, Knopfler invests tunes with an autobiographical slant and emotional connectivity that become obvious the moment he opens his mouth to sing. "Down to the Waterline," "Wild West End," and "Lions" all feature colloquial touches that add to their reach. By extension, "In the Gallery" functions as a tribute to Leeds sculptor Harry Phillips (father of future Knoplfer collaborator, Steve Phillips) while the record's breakout smash, "Sultans of Swing," pays homage to struggling bar bands.


Through it all, Dire Straits performs with a subtle cool and clever poise that no band ever matched. Just how good is the chemistry? Bob Dylan heard the quartet and invited Knopfler and drummer Pick Withers to play on Slow Train Coming. But even Dylan himself didn't hear Dire Straits sound this magnetic back in its original heyday. Now, everyone can.

The Nu’rons were a family group consisting of two sets of brothers and cousins, the four young men in question being brothers Daryl Howard and Raymond Gibson (Daryl’s mother registered him under his father’s surname of Howard and Raymond under her maiden name of Gibson) together with Otho Bateman and Charles Bateman. They were all born and raised in Salem, New Jersey and from the age of ten and eleven began singing with a fifth member and Gibson brother Rudolph as a group called The Gospel 5. They eventually decided to crossover to secular music and as a group known for their energetic dance routines they came up with the new performing name of ‘The Nu’rons’ (taken from the word ‘Neuron’ which is a cell that transmits nerve impulses). However Rudolph was soon to leave the group due to physical illness. Also Daryl Howard and Charles Bateman had also been part of a working group known as The Devotions prior to becoming The Nu-Ron’s.Following hours of practice The Nu’rons eventually felt confident enough to put their own shows together and began to perform at local dances and parties around New Jersey and Philadelphia, often being used as a non-paid warm up act for bigger named artists. They moved between several different managers including Jimmy Bishop (Duo Dynamic Productions) until they came under the tutelage of WDAS radio DJ Georgie Woods (his wife Gilda, being the owner of the Philadelphia Gil, Dion and Top & Bottom record Labels). It was Georgie who introduced them to Manny Campbell who in turn invited them to an audition at his and partner Charles Bowen’s Emandolynn Music studio in Chester P.A. The song The Nu’rons chose to audition with was the self penned “I’m A Loner”, the audition went well, as during late January/early February of 1970 Manny and Charles took The Nu’rons into the Sigma Sound Studio’s with Tom Bell and the TSOP musicians to record “I’m A Loner” and “All My Life” which was released on the Nu-Ron label in April of the same year. The two studio takes presente don this release came short after the band moved on from the collaboration with producer Emanuel Campbell to take music matters in their own hands. Beside recording "Disco Hustle" to be part of the disco boom in Philly of the times, they recorded also “You Came Thru”, a rough yet beautiful heavy bassline driven soul funk recording, and the just amazing “Hurry Up Tomorrow”, here presented in one of the original Studio takes.

2024 Reissue

Transparent grünes Vinyl! Wieder lieferbar! Zum ersten Mal überhaupt seit der digital-only Veröffentlichung 2011 erscheint nun der erste "Minecraft"-Soundtrack in physischer Form. Die Vinylversion enthält zwölf Tracks! "Minecraft - Volume Alpha" ist das Werk des deutschen Komponisten und Musikers Daniel Rosenfeld. Unter seinem Künstlernamen C418 erschuf Rosenfeld den weitreichenden Soundtrack und das lebendige Sounddesign, das das auf Voxel aufgebaute Universum von "Minecraft" zum Leben erweckte. Fans und Kritiker waren durch die Bank weg begeistert von seinen beatlosen, ausgewogenen Electro-Stücken. Die bekannte Gaming Seite "Kotaku" führte den Soundtrack unter der "Best Game Music" 2011 und nannte die Musik "beeindruckend beruhigend", während The Guardian die zerbrechlichen Stücke Rosenfelds aus Klavier und minimalistischem Ambient mit den legendären Künstlern ERIK SATIE und BRIAN ENO. In einem Interview destillierte Polygon "Volume Alpha" auf seine Essenz hinuntern: "Der Soundtrack ist nicht gebunden an die Retro-Ästhetik der Minecraft Graphik. Der Soundtrack setzt sich über sie hinweg. Das Album ist ein Versuch, die kombinierte Game/Music Erfahrung in etwas Himmlisches zu übersetzen."

Since 1992, Robin Storey (founding member of the pioneering post-industrial band Zoviet*France) has been creating innovative and thought-provoking music under the Rapoon moniker. Drawing inspiration from his early days with Z*F, he continues to push the boundaries of ambient, industrial, and world music genres, earning him a dedicated following across the globe.

Originally available in 1994 as a limited-edition DAT tape through Staalplaat Records, Cidar was later included as a bonus CD in the reissue of another Rapoon classic, Fallen Gods. Now, after years of anticipation, fans can experience this mesmerizing work as a stand-alone release – remastered and expanded with three previously unreleased tracks from the original 1994 recording sessions.

Cidar showcases Robin’s signature sound – a seamless blend of Z*F-inspired drones and loops intertwined with vibrant African percussion and hauntingly beautiful Asian string instruments. This combination creates an immersive, trance-like atmosphere that transports listeners into a world of meditative sonic exploration.

With its enchanting rhythms and deeply textured layers, Cidar stands as a testament to Robin’s unparalleled ability to craft music that defies genre boundaries while remaining instantly recognizable. Fans of both Zoviet*France and Rapoon will find themselves drawn into the hypnotic sounds of this timeless masterpiece.

The standalone release of Cidar marks an important milestone in the history of experimental music, offering audiences worldwide the opportunity to rediscover or experience for the first time one of Robin Storey’s most influential works.

Devotional music most often gets distilled into earthy chants and ancient folklore, it doesn't always ascend to the sky like Julinko’s ‘Naebula’ an album that from the first organ note clearly trades in terrestrial dreams for ethereal visions. A feverish quality permeates the whole record, as if a ritualistic performance was being captured from start to finish, a collection of hallucinatory doom, synthetic neo-folk hymns and ghostly art-rock.

Julinko, stage name for Giulia Parin Zecchin, has long been one of the best kept secrets of the experimental community in North-East Italy, with three records that helped define her unique blend of heavy psychedelia, slowcore and dark ambient. On ‘Naebula’ what really stands out is how powerful and soaring her voice is, a weapon of undeniable force that can transform into a vessel of raw fervour or glide effortlessly as a delicate lament. Her unconventional approach shines through on tracks like ‘Jeanne De Rien’, where a marching pulse acts as a pillar for an extended mantra, almost verging into powwow territory. ‘Peace Of The Unsaid’ uses its arrhythmical structure to create space, a crepuscular night ode that reaches the heights of Sinead O’Connor’s most intimate force-fulness while retaining a sweet composure. Whether it’s glacial murderous shrieks or gospel-esque vitality, songs like ‘Cloudmachine’ or ‘Kiss The Lion’s Tongue’ seem to draw as much from a tradition of European minimalism, the use of drones and repetition, to the tradition of folksongs as hymns, where modal harmonies make way for an apparent stasis. Another key element in Julinko’s songwriting is the seamless blend of her minimalistic approach with these dense textures borrowed from a distant outsider metal heritage, Lynchean noir on steroids or wordless exorcisms with deep undercurrents.

In Gianfranco Rosi’s portrait of Naples, Sotto le Nuvole, the ground shakes periodically. Between Mount Vesuvius and the Tyrrhenian Sea, the fumaroles of the Phlegraean Fields hiss volcanic gas and steam. Below the sleeping volcano, modern day Naples emerges in black and white and fills with voices, with lives. From the traces of history and the concerns of the present, Rosi documents a city immersed in its continuous past, with Daniel Blumberg’s minimal soundscape hovering in a sonic space between liquid and air.
Tasked with creating a soundscape that would suspend space within Rosi’s film, Blumberg called upon the extended technique of saxophonists Seymour Wright and John Butcher to create a gossamer fabric of traces and sounds abstracted from their instruments. Having transitioned from theoretical physics to the saxophone, John Butcher has always deeply considered space in the context of his playing. His concerns are with flow, density and how the saxophone is situated in the living world. Zeroing in on the core sonic properties of the mechanical and acoustic components of the saxophone, Seymour Wright has integrated its every breath, reed vibration, keypad clatter and hissed microtone of his alto into his own, unique improvisational language. In his work with these two seminal players, Blumberg makes his most concentrated soundtrack to date - reinforcing the film's sense of overlapping time and space, and pushing at the limits of experimentation.

Initially recorded in Daniel’s flat in London, Butcher and Wright centre themselves around long, consistent tones, so soft that it seems breath is being gently pulled from the saxophone's bell by an invisible hand. Blumberg himself adds haunting bass harmonica, and recordings of Wright’s launeddas - a traditional and ancient triple pipe polyphonic reed instrument from Sardinia, Italy. Blumberg then travelled to the volcanic region of Baia, next to Pompeii. Once a flourishing classical Roman city loved by Nero, Baia slowly sank under hydrothermal pressure, leaving the city in a kind of geological purgatory. Using specialised geophones and hydrophones, Blumberg took those initial recordings and amplified them underwater, sending them calling out across the ruins of Baia’s mosaics, Nymphaeum statues and villas.

“It was important to me that the music was whispered in the same landscape that Gianfranco has worked for the past three years, so that you can hear the volcanic air gulping, the lapping of the waves, the steam and bubbles popping against John and Seymour’s saxophone breaths – an echo from a suspended time.”
What emerges is deeply melancholic, tender, subtle and right at the edges of audio technology. Submerged in an aquarian mausoleum, the mysterious vibrations of the saxophone and its bell become an echo of an echo, wading from the future into the past. ‘Sotto le Nuvole’ is less a soundtrack than a process of aeration - a sonic puncture in the material of the film which allows its central message to breathe, and a remarkable experiment at the limits of the saxophone’s possibility.

Hiroshi Sato's masterpiece “Awakening” has been reissued for the fourth time in a new color “Pastel Blue Vinyl”. The album was cut by world-renowned engineer Bernie Grundman based on high-spec sound data digitally converted to 96KHz/24bit from the original master tapes. The pressing was done at Sony Music's factory in Japan. This is Hiroshi Sato's fourth original album released in June 1982 after his career in Los Angeles, and his first album for Alpha Records. Featuring Canadian female vocalist Wendy Matthews and using the most advanced drum machine at the time, “LinnDrum,” this mellow and soulful album is a perfect fusion of Sato's sound sense and the atmosphere of American West Coast, and has transcended generations, continues to influence many musicians. Guest guitarists include Tatsuro Yamashita, Tsunehide Matsuki, and Yuji Toriyama! Limited edition.

Das wandlungsfähige Trio Vanishing Twin präsentiert sein neues Album ,Archives" - eine Collage aus postmoderner Songkunst, die im gemeinsamen Schaffensprozess Transzendenz findet. Der Albumtitel spielt auf den unverwechselbaren Ansatz von Vanishing Twin an, tägliche Aufnahmesessions anzuhören, zusammenzufügen und neu zu bearbeiten. Gründungsmitglied Cathy Lucas beschreibt den Prozess so: ,Material sammeln, damit herumspielen, es auf den Kopf stellen, versuchen, die Teile zusammenzufügen und daraus eine Geschichte zu erschaffen". Da Lucas mittlerweile ins ländliche Frankreich gezogen ist und Valentina Magaletti sowie Susumu Mukai in London leben, verbinden sich die drei, indem sie Songs und Instrumentalfragmente in einem virtuellen Studio austauschen. Die geografische Distanz wird durch ihre kollektive Kreativität überbrückt, wobei jedes Mitglied als Multi-Instrumentalist seinen Beitrag leistet. Jeder Musiker bringt umfangreiche Erfahrung in Zusammenarbeit und Improvisation mit, wobei das Anhören und Bearbeiten von Studio-Sessions ein wesentlicher Bestandteil des kreativen Prozesses ist. Konzepte von Urheberschaft und Eigentumsrechten lösen sich in der Musik von Vanishing Twin auf, während die Mitglieder Instrumente tauschen und sich ganz dem Moment der Zusammenarbeit hingeben. Die ,Archive", die dem Albumtitel seinen Namen geben, werden zu Dokumenten der kollektiven Intelligenz des Trios. Die chaotische Energie von ,Archives" treibt Vanishing Twin in ungewohnte Formen und Richtungen. Außerhalb ihrer Komfortzonen findet das Trio neue Momente der Erleuchtung und Freude. Tief im Mix hörst du vielleicht, wie Magaletti zum Bass greift, Mukai unerwartet am Schlagzeug einspringt oder Lucas chamäleonartig durch die Lücken gleitet. ,Archives" verfeinert Vanishing Twins Modell des kollektiven Musizierens, bei dem Egos in spielerischen Mix-and-Match-Spielen in den Hintergrund treten und die Kreativität zwischen den drei Multi-Instrumentalisten fließt. Sie bewegen sich zwischen und außerhalb konventioneller Genrekategorien und reihen sich neben Weggefährten wie dem Tara Clerkin Trio und Still House Plants ein, wodurch sie die Vorstellung vom zeitgenössischen Musikensemble erweitern. Nach einem Jahrzehnt ihres Bestehens sind Vanishing Twin wandelbarer denn je.

Often credited as the father of multi-media theatre, Alwin Nikolais (1910-1993) took complete creative control over his productions - including cutting-edge approaches to lighting and costume that transformed human bodies into shifting sculptural shapes, while also composing wildly innovative electro-acoustic and synth-based audio as accompaniment.

After initially experimenting with musique concrète and tape manipulation (as demonstrated on the 1959 LP Choreosonic Music of the New Dance Theatre of Alwin Nikolais) Nikolais became the first owner of Robert Moog's synthesizer at the Audio Engineering Society convention in New York in late 1964. Relying heavily on the Moog and later the Synclavier synth/sampler, these 21 tracks document Nikolais' highly-prescient compositions across the mid 1960s through to the late 1980s - existing not only as extensions of his other-worldly choreographic productions, but standalone pieces of foundational mid-century American electronic and experimental music.

"Born in Southington, Connecticut in 1910, Nikolais’s early years and early career were in acting, music and puppetry. It was not until the late 1930s that he began his work as dancer/choreographer in Hartford, Connecticut, where he was commissioned by the Avery Memorial Theatre, a part of the Wadsworth Atheneum, to create an evening-length work to the music of Ernst Krenek. Previously his work and study as a pianist-organist found him accompanying silent films. This sort of accompaniment required from the musician not only a playing skill but also a versatility in improvisation, matching movement to sound, and evoking mood to situation.

Nik was drawn initially to dance by his involvement with the percussion scores used by the illustrious early twentieth century German dancer Mary Wigman. In trying to learn more about percussion, he was lured into dance class and thus his career began. His development of music and dance occurred simultaneously. His introduction to the twelve-tone technique opened his mind to the expanding areas of atonal music, and his dealing with music as sound per se. In 1948, after being appointed director of the Henry Street Playhouse in New York, Nikolais formed the Playhouse Dance Company, later known as the Nikolais Dance Theater, and began his aesthetic orientation toward dance as a study of motion. By the 1950s, he had ceased creating literal dances and began his explorations and eventual milieu as an abstractionist.

Sound became an important part of his abstract theatre. For his first dances, which involved his new thinking of dance as both a visual and kinetic art, he used live percussion scores in which he directed his dancers to play instruments of all nature. There was a combination of children’s toy instruments as well as harsh and resonant automobile brake drums, and other pitched auto parts which he also used to accompany classes. Once he installed his own tape recording machines, he quickly used the limited range these instruments provided in a new way, slowing and increasing speed and reversing sound. He also made the sounds adhere to the choreographic structure (not the other way around), thereby giving the dance its independence from the musical phrasing. But the real need remained: the search for new sound. Nik made a sound library, recording noises and percussion and vocal sounds, which the French aptly called musique concrète. Needless to say, he became a master at splicing bits and pieces.

From 1956 to 1962 Nikolais composed eleven major scores for his theatre pieces using such techniques. In 1963, James Seawright, who at the time was assisting Nik in his productions and also working at the Columbia-Princeton Center for Electronic Music, recorded a sound bank for the production Imago (1963). With this material, Nikolais created his first synthesizer score. Imago won the Paris Grand Prix in 1968 and launched the Nikolais Dance Theatre towards its national and primarily international acclaim.

During the same period, Seawright came to Nik and told him of a young man who had invented and constructed a simplified synthesizer and insisted that Nik visit the electronic fair currently being held in New York. Nik did so and met Robert Moog. He was completely taken by the new machine and after making some suggestions to Moog, (which Moog made), Nik bought the inventor’s first machine with the aid of a Guggenheim Fellowship. Moog himself was astonished by what his machine could produce for Nik. This machine was later acquired by the Museum of Musical Instruments at the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor as the first Moog synthesizer. The Synclavier was Nik’s next source of sound and since the mid-1970s remained the major instrument in the Nikolais soundroom.

Alwin Nikolais has been honored and awarded throughout the world. He has received the French Legion of Honor, the Kennedy Center Honors, National Medal of the Arts, two Guggenheim Fellowships, as well as Mellon, Ford, and Rockefeller grants. He has been a recipient of NEA grants since 1966, been awarded five honorary doctorates, all for his remarkable achievements in Dance Theater. His genius has influenced several generations of artists."
—Murray Louis

Belfast meets Bradford for a showcase of haunted tribal trances, whirring drum-machine ragas and subsonic ambience. A monolithic face-off on wax. A speaker-troubling duel to the sonic death.

Black Bones and Miles J Paralysis delve into the foundations of Crying Outcast’s fourth transmission: the split EP Black Cross. A release that’s sure to worm its way deep into your musical psyche.

Weapons-grade DJ tools for the margin travellers. Certified. Essential.

Compiled onto one vinyl album for the first time, Landlocked (Numbers, 2026) presents Hallucinator’s 1999 debut album originally released under Mark Ernestus and Moritz von Oswald’s label Chain Reaction. Writing much surrounding the culture of what would be later considered ‘Dub Techno’ and its’ primary distribution center, Hard Wax, leads one down roads of shifting primary sources and decades old overheard smoke break recollections. Maybe brevity primes the listener to the paralinguistic to approach the sound on its terms; focusing on how things are uttered and not what.

This theory will remain unconfirmed. Hallucinator original press release left us with three or so gestures to consider over the years since:

“A new act on CHAIN REACTION”s distinct productional thesis. HALLUCINATOR are 3 people from he UK/London and this their first release ever- that’s all what the artists want to let us know…. This record is dedidacted to the memory of Stephen Lawrence!”

The first gesture is one of personnel. Since ’99, we’ve gotten to learn a bit more about the artists behind the Hallucinator project. All London-based, all writers, composers, and sound-designers— Anna Piva, Edward George, Trevor Mathison. These three seem to flow between parameters as aesthetic tactic and tacit structure to the work itself. For example, other collaborative shapes have come from this lineup including Flow Motion (Piva, George and Mathison) as well as the now defunct Black Audio Film Collective of which George and Mathison are founding members.

The second gesture is in the second line of the previous press release, “distinct productional thesis.” Much of Landlocked’s affect and sequencing seems to suggest an emotional study of entropy at the level of sediment. Rhythms play with space and capacity through polyvalence. The production chose subtractive vertigo, often switching and bringing back in elements that vanished from the track 6 minutes ago. Dubbing out so much of a track, one begins to associate sound akin to memories held in the experience of running your hand across a concrete block as a child. Felt (re)memberance in lieu of narrative tale. Using textures that flicker between colour and percussion, Hallucinator’s 12-tracker of loudspeaker perception music might be a mediation on the psychic wake of the Cold War. Intermittent strata of ambience and groove convects an active margin rifting event underneath a scorched geology of power in Western Europe. Again, this is all grapevine hearsay.

But it’s silence that voices the third gesture. The album’s sparse application of the written word touches on the ennui paradox of being landlocked on an island. Stuck. Trapped in the psychosis of occidental hypercentricism. A looping silence of Black British tragedy: “to the memory of Stephen Lawrence”. 18 year-old Lawrence was stabbed to death at a bus stop in southeast London by six white men in 1993. The rift of grief and implicit reiteration of modern subordination left by this hate act went legally silent for almost two decades until Lawrence’s killers were ultimately sentenced to virtually life in jail in 2012. Only six years removed at the time of Hallucinator’s initial invocation of rememory, the mind-numbing accretion of what Black Studies Professor Denise Ferreira da Silva might call “unpayable debt”, finds demonic ground across Landlocked, forming an aural sense of what continues to be refused.

The album ventures through spaces of overactive non-happenings: ‘Red Angel’’s factory floor dub flashes between smokestack and jungle visions, or the halfway mark’s stilted breath of ‘Dusk’ lending its mood to the sort of sedated dreams built from daily life under colony rule for instance. That linked rhythm links us back to our linked fates across Black and Brown folk is real, thus the syncopated signals through this work behave on the level of transnational radiotelegraphy, sounding out its windswept tension of a body negotiating a meat-grinder schema of linear production and wage for others to know that unspeakable thing can be broadcast in every drum tongue.

As the silence continues to reverb, we return to the sort of meaning-making that cannot be told but felt. Soothing to some, disturbing to others. Landlocked, a Rorschach test for a crumbled empire.

“The Long Transition From Death To Wisdom” marks a new chapter in Dmitry’s evolving sonic world – a contemplative, slow‑burning journey through grief, memory, and the quiet emergence of clarity. Rooted in a brooding fusion of shoegaze, goth, and darkwave, the album drifts through washed out guitars, spectral synths, and poignant vocals – its emotional landscape suspended between sadness and awakening. On vocal duties is Dmitry’s longtime collaborator Valeria Simonova, whose presence deepens the album’s atmosphere. Each track feels like a step forward in the ritual of becoming aware of one’s own existence, moving through silence and ancient memories toward a sense of spiritual renewal.

The album opens with the mysticism and layered metaphors of “Liar,” before descending into the ancient, biblical presence of “Serpent Queen.” Midway, “Zenith” rises with shimmering synths and steady, triumphant percussion, while “Echoes of Yesterday” lingers in celestial melancholy, dissolving the boundary between remembrance and insight. The Bside begins with “The Other Side of Life,” a threshold into a quieter, more reflective space, followed by the meditative, ritual like ambience of “Shrine of Ruins.” Closing track “Cold” offers a final exhale from the fading realm of the past – an acceptance shaped by distance, time, and the erosion of old wounds.

An array of musicians contributed to the recoding of the album: Mathys Dubois (No One Is Innocent, exBlack Strobe), Loïc Maurin (M83), Victor Sologub (Deadушки, Странные Игры), Alexander Titov (Кино, Аквариум), Ben Easton (Deary), and others. The album was mastered at Abbey Road Studios by Miles Showell.

Subject Sue is an Amsterdam-based artist creating dystopian nightclub music at the intersection of darkwave and ethereal techno. Inspired by queer club culture and the fragile edge between euphoria and estrangement, her music unfolds into a cinematic nocturnal haze.

Music has always been part of her life. As a vocalist and keyboard player, she performed in various projects and studied Visual Arts, where she explored themes of alter egos, personal realities, and the tension between subjectivity and objectivity in storytelling. Over time, she shifted from being an observer of these themes to embodying them herself. What began as an alter ego gradually evolved into something more personal.

Through Subject Sue, she explores desire, identity, and the strange beauty of the night, transforming fragments of her subjective inner world into cinematic club music. Drawing inspiration from Amsterdam’s queer nightlife and fleeting moments of intimacy, she creates music that inhabits the space between desire and isolation.

Debut EP Details In The Dark explores the blurred boundaries between lust and romance, intimacy and alienation through six tracks rich with pulsating synthesizers, textured soundscapes, and haunting vocal harmonies.

The third chapter of l’oggetto’s DANCE trilogy continues the sought-after series of instrumental DJ tools. Four new tracks, conceived as techniques to reach ecstatic states on the dancefloor through different moods, tempos, and vibes.

“Vallee,” with its infectious 12-bit groove, opens the EP with a syncopated, never-ending jazz-infused vibraphone. “Bone” takes it from there, staying midtempo and percussive while pushing funky horns into trippy, repetitive territory.

Side B turns moodier, as expected. “2600’” unfolds through digital strings of life, enabling a sense of suspension, release, and transcendence. Lastly, “Ambientale” closes the record with the ethereal, wobbly analog warmth of a downtempo drift into dawn.

Mutual Rytm's Versus sub-label returns with a dark, absorbing new EP from contemporary techno innovators Kameliia and BLANKA. Kameliia and BLANKA both previously appeared on Federation of Rytm IV and now step forward with their long-awaited debut EPs. It is another standout for Mutual Rytm's Versus series, which has already made an impact with two previous EPs from Regent and Chontane and Klint and Hemka. This third release subtly evolves the sound into more hypnotic and atmospheric worlds that bring fresh perspectives to the series. Bulgarian-born, Norway-based Kameliia’s music is rooted in cinematic, melancholic and hypnotic sounds. She translates deep emotions into immersive sonic landscapes inspired by nature, particularly the moon, the sky and their atmospheric qualities. Along with Berlin-based Spaniard BLANKA, she has released on labels such as SK_Eleven, while BLANKA also co-founded Room Trax and draws heavily on the human voice, which she considers one of the most personal and intimate instruments. She uses it to create an emotional, direct connection with the dance floor, with a clean, minimal, timeless style rich in emotion. Kameliia opens up with the weighty kicks and eerie atmospheres of 'Bird In A Cage' before 'Red Sky' layers taut kicks and icy synths into a hypnotic forward charge full of depth and darkness, then 'Lightness' has an unsettling and paranoid lead hanging in the air next to vocal fragments and haunting pads. BLANKA’s offering begins with tightly wound kicks and bass on the dubby 'Say It With Me'; 'Self Pleasure' is an immersive and rubbery rhythm with cosmic synth work, and 'Rabbit Habits' brings funky synth lines that radiate a sense of subtle light and hope amidst the darkness of the groove. Two digital bonus cuts from each artist follow: Kameliia's unsettling, dystopian soundscape 'No Longer A Desire' and the backlit suspense of 'Vivere', and BLANKA's gritty, loopy 'Dream VST' and the deep-space odyssey that is 'Gone For Good'.

JUDDER announces the second installment of its vinyl series, bringing together a diverse selection of artists united by their passion for experimental bass music. This time, the record is fully focused on a raw, soundsystem-driven aesthetic. On Side A, French producer Amor Satyr—known for effortlessly navigating between dembow, breakbeat, and techno—ventures into dubstep territory for the first time. On 'Over', he translates his signature style onto the genre’s foundations while retaining the distinctive energy that defines his sound. The record continues with a collaborative effort from Thematic and Nattah. ‘Aurora Pulse' is a cold, restrained piece of leftfield bass at 130 BPM, where a sharp, syncopated subline forms the backbone of the groove, pulsing like the heartbeat of a northern metropolis. Opening Side B, Dawn RAzor and Mani Festo deliver 'Awared', a track where techno and breakbeat converge through layered sound design and spring-loaded drum fills. As it unfolds, the composition gradually draws the listener into a hypnotic journey, dissolving familiar genre boundaries along the way. The release closes with ‘Lockjaw'—a true soundsystem slow-burner from Kahter and Mercy System. Broken tribal rhythms and a constantly evolving arrangement keep the listener suspended in a state of mounting tension, one that intensifies with every new detail introduced. Tracklist: A1 Amor Satyr — Over A2 Thematic & Nattah — Aurora Pulse B1 Dawn RAzor & Mani Festo — Awared B2 Kahter & Mercy System — Lockjaw

LUCIANO LAMANNA — A CARLO Blackwater Label — 2026 Distributed by Triple Vision More than ten years in the making, A CARLO is a single-sided EP by Luciano Lamanna for Blackwater Label, dedicated to Carlo Giuliani and to the memory of the events that unfolded during the G8 protests in Genoa in 2001. This record is the result of a long process, one that began more than a decade ago and has remained unfinished until now. Two tracks, both carrying the name and memory of Carlo, finally complete a circle that has been open for years. The first track, “Il Giorno del Sole”, was previously released on physical CD through Blackwater Label. The second, “Amore Infinito”, arrives more than ten years later, completing the dialogue between the two pieces and giving the project its long-awaited counterpart. Together, the tracks form a deeply emotional and personal statement: melancholic, haunting and at the same time driving and hopeful. Lamanna moves through the industrial language that has always characterised his work, while “Amore Infinito” explores a darker, more intimate territory, evoking the emotional intensity of Coil. A CARLO is not intended as a historical reconstruction or a conventional political statement. It is an act of memory.

For Blackwater Label, memory is political. For more than twelve years, Blackwater has built its identity around what we call Socialismo Sonoro: a way of understanding music and cultural production as a space for autonomy, resistance, collective consciousness and taking a position. We have never been interested in remaining neutral when the reality surrounding us contradicts the values we believe in. This record belongs entirely to that vision. Putting this record out today means continuing to pronounce the name Carlo. Keeping a memory alive. Refusing to allow silence to become the final form of history. Blackwater continues to expose itself, in its own way, through music, without claiming to speak for anyone else, but accepting the responsibility to say what it believes needs to be said. A CARLO is therefore both a tribute and a continuation: a record born from grief, transformed through sound, and ultimately directed towards memory and hope. CREDITS: Written, produced, mixed & mastered by Luciano Lamanna Released by Blackwater Label © 2026 Blackwater Label Distributed by Triple Vision N·C·V·A·F Nvmqvam Cede // Vsqve Ad Finem

No Home is the new album by Lane Hartley, releasing October 23rd 2026 on Royal Oakie Records. Produced in collaboration with David Hartley of The War On Drugs & Adam McDaniel (Animal Collective, Angel Olsen, Geologist), the album was recorded at Drop of Sun Studios in Asheville and features contributions from North Carolina’s tight knit music community–including Mary Lattimore, Seth Kaufman of Floating Action & Dream Sitch, David Hartley, Jack Victor Johnson, and more.

After recording his debut album Naming Horses, Lane left Los Angeles and returned home to the Carolinas, eventually landing in Asheville. It wasn’t too long until the songs started flowing and Lane found himself reaching out to Adam McDaniel at Drop of Sun Studios–a vaunted space that’s been at the heart of indie-rock the past few years, bringing to life recent albums from MJ Lenderman, Wednesday, Fust, and more. McDaniel introduced Lane to David Hartley, and what originally started with discussions to record one song quickly turned into a plan to track a whole album live with a six piece band. Once in the studio, co-producer McDaniel encouraged the group to lean on intuition–“All of the players on this record really brought it to life in such a cosmic way. They instilled so much childlike wonder and fun into the making of the album. It inspired me to keep going” says Lane.


Lyrically the album is a collection of vignettes about people who’ve become alienated from their deepest desires of connection, belonging, intimacy, and autonomy–inspired both by Lane’s own life and the lives of people he’s loved. The unique character of the album emerged when Lane made the decision to pair the dark lyrical content with bright & lush arrangements, inspired by Gene Clark’s No Other, Neil Young’s After the Gold Rush, and Amen Dunes’ Love. In Lane’s words, “The content of the songs got way darker, and my reaction was to make the songs catchier, and to lean harder into the music that influenced me. I wanted each song to feel like a room in a haunted house, with a beautiful garden growing outside”.

Album opener “I Am Not Ashamed” was inspired by the anti-memoir of actress Barbara Peyton, a 1950’s Hollywood starlet who met an untimely end; “It’s about knowing that whatever you’ve done to survive, you still deserve love” says Lane. “Mother” pairs lyrics about ancestral trauma with the sunshine-pop influence of Colin Blunstone, featuring backing vocals from Lane’s sister Barrett Hartley. “It's about coming to terms with the fact that the people meant to protect us are dealing with their own trauma…”

Meanwhile, “All Of This Is Yours” and “Tone Poem” form the spiritual center of the album, an attempt to transmute anger & pain to bittersweet acceptance in the wake of a breakup. “I feel like on the surface this is essentially a breakup album, a lot of these songs are about mourning the end of a relationship and reflecting on what went down. I was falling in love and getting my heart broken, then waking up and driving across the country and doing it all over again.” “Love Is Not A Song” was inspired by Margo Guryan’s Love Songs, pairing bright piano with playful lyrics about an old man who’s been beaten down by life but still believes his greatest love is yet to come. Last but not least, title track “No Home” sums up the album’s key theme of alienation, “It all goes back to this feeling of wanting to belong to someone or somewhere, wanting to belong in your own body.”

The songs of Jules de Corte are condensed, folky gems with an almost effortless charm. Poised between the intimate and the universal, between lightness and darkness, they touch on religion, love, loss, and the small dramas of everyday life. Yet they resist easy translation. Packed with wordplay, de Corte’s signature alliterations, humor, and local cultural references, the songs inevitably lose something in another language. Still, when a Belgian quartet of improvisers takes them on, joined by American songwriter Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, the songs are reborn rather than merely transposed: literal fidelity gives way to interpretation, and what is lost in words is often gained in spirit.

Even without tracing every change, their overall effect is fascinating. Songs are slowed down, often doubled in length, and filled with unexpected musical intrusions. They gain fuller arrangements and are placed in an entirely new context. Replacing de Corte’s piano with guitar can create a radically different vibe, as in “Mariska.” An added solo can heighten the contrast between childlike perspective and the almost matter- of-fact brutality of “Little Anita.” In “The Stranger,” another use of contrast unsettles the everyday harmony, transforming it with a subtle, disorienting twist.

Ultimately, these performances show that interpretation is not successful simply because it is literal. With the groundwork laid by Linus, Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy further liberated the songs from their original versions. Lyrics and melodies become malleable, shaped by his recognizable cadences, timbre, and personal quirks. Like his collaborators, he allows himself the freedom to bend the material to his own approach. There is no radical break between this performance and his other records. Listeners familiar with the originals may be puzzled at first; for those new to de Corte, it is a wholly different experience.

Does it really matter that the original “Little Jesus, Mighty God” is a 100-second nugget combining playful naivete with biblical fervor? In the hands of these five explorers, the song becomes an intriguing contemplation, with subtle musical shades and a recitation in which every syllable carries a maturity that offers a new perspective. Then there is “The Outsider,” which feels as genuine as any original American folk song. The musicians’ process is more than reinterpretation—it is reimagination, bringing new musical compatibility and emotional depth. Whether that depth was there from the start, waiting to be uncovered, or created in the process is beside the point. What matters is that Linus and Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy have made the essence of these songs their own, paying homage yet dancing to their own tune.

Linus is the Belgian duo of guitarist and banjo player Ruben Machtelinckx and reedist and synthesiser player Thomas Jillings. Across five previous albums — Onland (2014), Linus + Skarbø / Leroux (2015), Felt Like Old language at the crossroads of folk, jazz, minimalism, chamber music and free improvisation. Their music is adventurous, shaped by a particular sensitivity to texture, timbre and the subtle interaction between musicians.

What began as a duo gradually grew into a flexible musical world, bringing Linus together with musicians such as Nils Økland, Ingar Zach, Niels Van Heertum, Øyvind Skarbø and Frederik Leroux. Yet each new constellation has remained recognisably Linus: music in which carefully considered forms leave space for intuition, interaction and the unexpected.

For their sixth album, Linus takes a new step by moving into the world of song and text. Inspired by a shared love for the late Dutch songwriter Jules De Corte, the album is a reimagining of De Corte’s unique repertoire. More than simply interpreting De Corte’s songs, they absorb and reshape them, bringing them into dialogue with their own musical language. In keeping with this open approach, they are joined by celebrated vocalist Bonnie “Prince” Billy. With albums such as 1999’s I See a Darkness appearing on several greatest album lists, Bonnie “Prince” Billy is a cult figure in the alternative folk scene, and his highly intuitive way of singing seamlessly matches the subtle interplay Linus has developed over more than a decade.

‘Unfindable Ring', out October 23 on Bayonet Records, is an adventurer’s epic. The arc of the journey, like any good Spirited Away or Neverending Story, lands its wide-traveled protagonist right back at home before bedtime. Grumpy, like many great hero tricksters before him, has always been a project of juxtaposition: upbeat radio-ready hits whose buoyant, goofy hooks belie the dark thoughts they describe. Much of this, Schmitt acknowledges, owes its due to the matter-of-fact morbidity of the trans experience in America. It’s from these experiences—personal, romantic, political, and existential—that the tale of ‘Unfindable Ring’ unfolds.
Ambition and play have always defined the Grumpy sound. Late last year, the Fader praised their “demented, hooky” EP, “Piebald,” whose innovative fuzz-pop confections earned them coverage in NPR and the New York Times. Stereogum heralded them as “wonderfully weird,” and Paste designated them “the best of what’s next.”” Through boisterous collaborations with the likes of Sidney Gish and Claire Rousay, they’ve effortlessly ingratiated themselves with the titans of DIY, and, more recently, Schmitt has become an unlikely favored collaborator of chart-topping country giant Zach Bryan, who named his new record––which prominently features Schmitt’s harmonies–– conspicuously, ‘With Heaven On Top.’
In Grumpy, Heaven Schmitt is joined by Anya Good, Ellie Long (Kid Lake), Austin Arnold, Diego Clare (D.A. Crimson), and Lane Rodgers, who each contribute to every step of the process—engineering and recording, mixing, drafting artwork, producing, and making music videos. A kind of interdisciplinary thieves’ guild, the project, while once Schmitt’s solo eponym, is a labor of communal love.
“We are living these happy lives, and there are people we come across who don’t know us at all who want us to die,” Schmitt, explains. Often the visibility of the joy itself is what prompts the vitriol––“I’m so happy I could die,” Schmitt belts over and over on the chorus (a familiar figure of speech, sure, but one which, upon any scrutiny, shows Schmitt’s hand in the macabre.) A middle finger to fate, Good started asking, “What are you going to do with your One Beautiful Life?” Grumpy is going to keep playing, touring, searching, finding.

Muss sich alles ständig so schwer anfühlen? Claud Mintz ringt ständig mit dieser Frage. Und zwar nicht in Form von höflichen kleinen Wortgefechten, sondern in Form von großen, langwierigen, existenziellen Kämpfen - von der Art, die einen letztendlich dazu bringen könnte, den Kurs des gesamten Lebens zu ändern. Die 10 Songs auf seinem facettenreichen und glanzvollen dritten Album ,Me and the Music" zeigen den 27-jährigen Singer-Songwriter und Produzenten aus Brooklyn, wie er sich mit dieser Frage auseinandersetzt und schließlich triumphierend zu etwas gelangt, das einer Antwort nahekommt: Die Dinge können schwer sein, aber das bedeutet nicht, dass man keinen Spaß haben kann. Das Leben kann schwer sein, aber das Bier in Ihrer Hand ist es nicht - warum sollten Sie es nicht für einen Moment in die Höhe recken, mit den Freunden um Sie herum mitsingen und Ihre Sorgen für die Dauer eines perfekten Indie-Pop- Songs vergessen? ,Me and the Music" ist Clauds erstes Album seit drei Jahren, seit dem 2023 erschienenen, hochgelobten ,Supermodels". Sowohl ,Supermodels" als auch ,Super Monster" aus dem Jahr 2021 waren weitgehend inspiriert von ,dieser einen unklaren Beziehung", von der er irgendwann während des Schreibens von ,Me and the Music" erkannte, dass sie ,eigentlich nie wirklich etwas war". ,Supermodels" war ein so ernstes Album, und ,ich habe einfach so lange in meinen Gefühlen geschwelgt", sagt Claud. ,Es gibt einen Unterschied zwischen Aufrichtigkeit gegenüber dem Leben und dem Leben zu ernst zu nehmen." Diese Erkenntnis veränderte alles: Im Titelsong von ,Me and the Music" singen sie: ,Das ist der letzte Song, den ich von dir ruinieren lasse", und das meinten sie auch so. Nachdem Claud diesen Song geschrieben hatte - in den berühmten Electric Lady Studios zusammen mit ihren Freunden Hank Heaven und Annie DiRusso -, begannen sie, sich völlig befreit zu fühlen. ,Dadurch wurde viel Bedauern losgelassen, das ich mit mir herumgetragen hatte, und es ermöglichte mir, zu denken _ das macht so viel Spaß", sagen sie. ,Musik zu machen macht so viel Spaß." Das Markenzeichen von Me and the Music sind also Songs, die die Komplexität des Erwachsenwerdens und des Lebens in der Welt einfangen, ohne dabei den Sinn für Verspieltheit oder Spaß zu verlieren. Es ist ein typisches ,Slice-of-Life"-Album , das neue Romanzen, Insider-Witze, Gap-Werbespots, die Band ,America" und das Land Amerika thematisiert und all diese Dinge mit Sorgfalt und Rücksicht behandelt. Die Lead-Single ,She Doesn't Love Me" von ,Me and the Music" ist in vielerlei Hinsicht der Kern des Albums - ein leichtfühliges Lied darüber, wie es ist, in den 2020er Jahren in Amerika queer und trans zu sein. (Es ist eine kraftvolle, mitreißende Hymne, die vor Schmerz nicht zurückschreckt - und trotzdem Lust macht, wie Claud in dem Titel singt, die ,Biere in die Luft zu recken".) Als Claud den Song gemeinsam mit Heaven und DiRusso schrieb, waren sie fest davon überzeugt, dass es ein Yacht-Rock-Song werden sollte; das Demo klang letztendlich dennoch ,Lo-Fi und Indie". ,Me and the Music" wurde von Claud und John Congleton (Alvvays, St. Vincent) produziert und bedeutet für Claud, dass sich der Kreis schließt: Mit diesem Album hatte Claud endlich das Gefühl, als Produzent selbstbewusst genug zu sein, um die Rolle des Co-Produzenten zu übernehmen (und hat seitdem eine Reihe viraler Singles von Romy Mars produziert). Die Zusammenarbeit ist natürlich ein wesentlicher Bestandteil von Clauds Arbeit - wer wären wir ohne unsere Freunde? Neben Claud gehört er zu einem Viertel zu Shelly, einer Band, die er gemeinsam mit Clairo, Noa Getzug und Josh Mehling gegründet hat. Auf ,Me and the Music" arbeitet Claud bei dem Titel ,The Legend" erneut mit ihrem langjährigen Kollaborateur Dan Nigro (Olivia Rodrigo, Chappell Roan) zusammen. Der Song thematisiert das Gefühl, tief in jemanden verliebt zu sein, der nicht mit einem gesehen werden möchte, sagt Claud: ,Es geht gewissermaßen um eine beschissene Beziehung und den Wunsch, die Liebe zur Schau zu stellen, ohne jedoch dazu in der Lage zu sein ", erklären sie. Doch wenn es auf ,Me and the Music" ein echtes Liebeslied gibt, dann ist es ,I Owe You", ein Dream-Pop-Road-Song, der hingebungsvoll und facettenreich ist. Er fängt den Geist von ,Me and the Music" als Ganzes ein: die Dinge Tag für Tag zu nehmen, Bilanz über das zu ziehen, was einen umgibt, und die schönen Dinge anzunehmen, wenn sie sich bieten. Das fühlt sich gar nicht so schwer an.

Layne & Chang might not be household names to everyone, but in the underground they’re long-established fixtures. Chang—who’s released music under a string of aliases over the years—was tipped by Urb magazine as one to watch back in the mid-’90s and has been embedded in dancefloor culture ever since. Alongside him, Layne Fox (formerly San Francisco, now back in Florida) brings deep disco credentials, having helmed the cult-loved Disco Dimensions label and recording as 40 Thieves—best known for the underground anthem Don’t Turn It Off. In short, the boogie lineage on this record runs deep.

And that’s before you even get to Dan Tyler. As one half of the Idjut Boys and co-founder of Noid Recordings, Tyler helped lay the groundwork for London’s edit culture long before it became a global phenomenon. His involvement here only strengthens the package.

“Shake Your Body” opens the release with a locked-in, funk-driven groove—swirling melodic lines, subtly acidic textures, warm vocoder touches, and tight, punchy drums all dialed for peak-time movement. On the A2, “In The Desert” shifts the mood into something more transportive: a hazy, late-night burner equally suited to open-air parties, after-hours sessions, or home listening with the lights low.

Flip to the B-side and Dan Tyler delivers two cosmic reworks that push things further out. Psychedelic, elastic, and built for serious systems, both cuts hit that sweet spot between heady and physical—already circulating among a handful of tastemaker DJs and primed for heavy rotation as festival season ramps up.

A strong, floor-ready release that sits comfortably in the Whiskey Disco catalogue—rooted in disco, but reaching well beyond it.

By the time Michael Nau completed Popfly, the songs felt less like compositions than companions. Arriving in fragments, notebook lines, and fleeting observations, these pieces kept company for years until taking their final form. The result is one of Nau's most openhearted, expansive records, both homespun and otherworldly at once. Radiant folk melodies, tape-warped textures, and flashes of everyday wonder coexist in perfect balance on Popfly. Nau has never been a songwriter who forces songs into existence. Instead, he follows them, trusting intuition over agenda and allowing songs to gradually reveal themselves. Writing and recording often blur together, with melodies evolving before lyrics are finished and stray recordings forming the basis for new songs. Popfly showcases these creative detours: thoughtful folk songs, sonic experiments, and accidental beauty transformed into fully realized compositions. Many songs began at home, growing in meaning. Since he entered the Vermont studio, Little Jamaica, with longtime friend and collaborator Benny Yurco, many of them had already lived several lives. "Studio recording feels like covering my own songs," Nau says. This idea flows throughout: performances are lived-in, feeling effortless, as if assembling itself. The title track carries a flicker of wonder in its simple observations. "New Slack" moves with the loose confidence of a song content to follow its own path. On "Lost Station Hideaway," soft static and fading signals become something strangely comforting, as if the song itself is being broadcast from somewhere just beyond reach. Family and friendship are deeply woven throughout the record. Nau's children contribute vocals, bringing warmth and spontaneity to the album's communal spirit, with longtime collaborator and wife Whitney McGraw lending her serene voice. The harmonies that drift from them extend the album's central impulse of people gathering to make something beautiful. Across Popfly, loose-limbed folk songs mingle with homespun psych-pop, porchside country-folk, dreamlike atmospherics, and quietly profound observations. The record moves with the ease of conversation among old friends, finding beauty in tiny revelations, strange coincidences, and everyday mysteries. The record is full of transmissions from different moments in Nau's life, stitched together by instinct, affection, and time. Taken together, they form a portrait of a life spent paying close attention to the world and its small miracles.

Following the Home Listening Acid and House Compilation releases, Mark Churcher aka A-Eno-
Acid returns with his debut LP.

A raw transmission from the underground — deep, hypnotic and unapologetically acid. Rooted in the late-1980s sound of warehouse parties, pirate radio and underground dancefloors, this is an album built for DJs, dancers and heads who know. 808s, squelching 303s and hypnotic grooves — pure acid house energy.

,Reona" ist das Debütalbum von REONA bei Kou Records - Stepptänzerin, Metal- Percussionistin, Improvisatorin und eine der originellsten Klangkünstlerinnen der heutigen Zeit, weltweit. Das Album wurde im Januar 2026 an zwei Tagen im Studio Dede aufgenommen und von Randall Dunn produziert. Es fängt REONAs ganzkörperliche Performance in Echtzeit ein: Stepptanzschuhe und ein Holzbrett als rhythmische Grundlage, überlagert von Metallblechen, Ketten, Edelstahlschalen, Plastiktüten, Lautsprechern und einem ganzen Arsenal an gefundenen und handgefertigten Objekten, die im Laufe jahrelanger Auftritte gesammelt wurden. Die Instrumente tragen ihre eigene Geschichte in sich - ein Schild aus Okinawa, auf dem die Warnung vor nicht detonierten Bomben steht, ein Schild einer Transportfirma aus dem Jingisukan-Topf-Museum in Iwamizawa, eine Festglocke, die zu Beginn der COVID-Ära erworben wurde, südindische Essgeschirr, ein Ölkännchen aus Taiwan. Stampfen, kratzen, berühren, schlagen, blasen, stöhnen - REONA nutzt alles voll aus, von ihren Beinen bis zu ihrem Mund, und lässt dabei die Grenze zwischen Tanz und Percussion, Körper und Instrument verschwinden. Ihre Praxis befindet sich an einer selten besetzten Schnittstelle: die japanische Noise-Tradition von Merzbow und Otomo Yoshihide auf der einen Seite, die perkussive Körperlichkeit von Milford Graves und Han Bennink auf der anderen - ohne Präzedenzfall dafür, was passiert, wenn diese beiden Welten in einem einzigen Körper aufeinandertreffen. Track 7, M108, enthält einen Gastauftritt von Atsuo - dem Schlagzeuger der legendären japanischen Rockband Boris - in einer Kollision zweier unterschiedlicher, aber verwandter Ansätze zu Rhythmus und Noise.? Aufgenommen, gemischt und produziert von Randall Dunn. Gemastert von Ben Greenberg. Dolby-Atmos-Mischungen von Ben Greenberg. Lackschnitt von Paul Gold bei Salt Mastering. Cover-Artwork ,Legend of the Snow Spirit" von Kazuki Tomokawa; Porträt auf der Rückseite von Allison Brant.

It’s rare for a hardcore punk band to make four full-length albums, and rarer still for the fourth album to be the band’s masterpiece. Yet Paratiisi, the fourth album from Helsinki punks Kohti Tuhoa, stands as the undeniable coup de grâce of a catalog overflowing with classic hardcore punk. If you’re already a fan, it’ll comfort you to know Paratiisi leans heavily on the strengths Kohti Tuhoa has possessed since their earliest releases: a timeless sound that combines UK82 drive and hooks with dramatic metal flourishes; a captivating vocalist with the perfect balance of grit and clarity, who can both howl like a banshee and carry a tune; and a particularly Finnish way with a driving, medium-fast tempo. But for all the continuities with Kohti Tuhoa’s excellent previous records, Paratiisi almost feels like the work of a new band. The riffs and choruses that anchor the album are impossibly catchy; Paratiisi bulges with huge moments that practically force you to air guitar and sing along (even if you don’t speak a word of Finnish), the band’s peerless chops and the rich and clear recording driving these climaxes to dizzying highs. But while the hooks are memorable, there isn’t a moment on Paratiisi that feels dumbed-down or overly familiar.

In fact, the album feels notably ambitious, pulling influences from across punk’s historical and aesthetic breadth and digesting them seamlessly into Kohti Tuhoa’s distinctive sound. The lyrics (don’t worry: English translations are included!) meet the same high bar as the music. They’re direct, assertive, and punk, but they’re also subtle and insightful, whether they’re tackling huge issues like microplastics or sharing a very personal account of a sexual assault and its aftermath. And then there’s Paratiisi’s most unexpected moment, “Eliitin Psykopatia,” a free punk freakout in the tradition of “Why (Reprise)” and “L.A. Blues.” If Kohti Tuhoa’s brief foray into free jazz tries your patience, though, don’t worry, because after three minutes of building tension, they reward you with what is bound to be the best riff of 2026, a clash of chords potent enough to blow holes through walls the world over. Paratiisi is the sound of one hardcore punk’s most exciting bands at the height of their powers.

Non Series marks its 15th anniversary with a special compilation gathering artists from different backgrounds whose music reflects the spirit and musical identity of the label. Most have never released original music on Non Series, but their individual approaches and distinctive sound fit naturally within this compilation.

An eclectic selection of tracks, ranging from hypnotic sequences and intricate percussion to heavy low-end pressure and deep atmospheres, coexists without following a predetermined formula, allowing each contribution to retain its own character.

Rather than presenting a chronological retrospective, the compilation offers a snapshot of the label's ongoing evolution, bringing together artists from different backgrounds and generations whose work finds a natural connection with the Non Series aesthetic.

Fifteen years of releases, collaborations and continuous exploration, brought together in a compilation that looks back without attempting to define the label, leaving its sound open to further evolution.

Following the success of the inaugural all-Jiri Jiri edition, Batov Records returns with the second instalment of its Give Me Disco series, once again curated by label co-founder and globe-trotting selector DJ Kobayashi. Rather than revisiting familiar disco classics, Give Me Disco Vol. 02 digs deeper, bringing together four dancefloor discoveries from across Europe and Asia, including two previously unreleased tracks available here for the first time.

Spanning Portuguese jazz-funk, Norwegian cosmic oddities, Japanese-inspired psychedelic disco and cinematic groove, the EP reflects the breadth of Kobayashi's record bag - a carefully assembled selection of tracks that have soundtracked his DJ sets for years alongside exclusive material rescued from the vaults.

Opening the record is The Bam Jam Band's brilliantly understated "Theme", a soaring slice of jazz-infused disco from Portuguese musicians Sérgio Alves and Pedro Tenreiro. Originally released only as a now long-sold-out 7 inch on Mad About Records, the track has become one of Kobayashi's trusted secret weapons, championed by discerning selectors including Darryn Jones and Red Greg. Built around Alves' dazzling synthesiser work, "Theme" finally gets the wider audience it deserves. The EP's first exclusive arrives courtesy of D. Apal, instrumentalist and member of Norway's Flammer Dance Band. His only solo release, issued on the band's Lysketrekk Records, has become a cult favourite among adventurous record collectors. Batov now unveils the previously unreleased "60 Meter'n (Rytme)", an extended instrumental dub that strips away the vocals to let the handclaps, cavernous bassline, dub effects and wonderfully eccentric synthesisers breathe, transforming an underground favourite into an irresistible dancefloor weapon.

Side B opens with YĪN YĪN's "Tokyo Disco", taken from the band's acclaimed third album Mount Matsu on Glitterbeat Records. Long-time admirers of the Dutch quartet, Kobayashi has championed them since first hearing the breakthrough pairing of "Dis ̄ kô Dis ̄ kô" and "Dion Ysiusk" on Bongo Joe. Since then, he has hosted the band twice on Soho Radio and supported them live in London. "Tokyo Disco" perfectly captures YĪN YĪN's distinctive blend of Japanese-inspired psychedelia, Southeast Asian influences, post-punk funk and shimmering disco grooves, making it a natural fit for the Give Me Disco series.

Closing the EP is another exclusive from Jiri Jiri, whose contribution helped launch the series on Vol. 01. Ahead of their forthcoming album later this year, the duo unveil the previously unreleased "Spaghetti Western", a wonderfully off-kilter fusion of Morricone-esque cinematic atmosphere, taut funk rhythms and the soulful modern groove of SAULT. Equal parts soundtrack and dancefloor curveball, it provides a fitting finale while offering another tantalising glimpse of what's still to come. With two exclusive cuts sitting alongside two carefully chosen modern classics, Give Me Disco Vol. 02 is another lovingly curated snapshot of DJ Kobayashi's musical universe: borderless, groove-driven and unapologetically built for adventurous DJs, discerning collectors and open minded dancefloors alike.

The Malian virtuoso, indisputably one of the most creative talents of his country, deserved his solo career decades ago. In May 2026, we released his debut solo album SOBRA DANCE featuring his wife Mariam Kouyate on vocals. The groovy and variated electric album, went straight to the top lists of World Music Charts Europe and Transglobal World Music Chart as well as selected for TOP OF THE WORLD by SONGLINES. Gaoussou's solo debut got several 5 star reviews.DJANGO BLUES is a tribute to Gaoussou's father and childhood teacher, who's nickname is Django. On this album the talented guitarist and composer goes deeper into the roots of Malian Dessert Blues, with the variations from the Arabic soundscapes from the north.In Senegal, Gaoussou is nick named "The new Ali Farka Toure". But even though Ali Farka was one of Gaoussou's greatest inspirations, Gaoussou has developed an unmistakable style of his own. He breathes music and goes to his studio every day to work. He uses his composing to reflect, and as a ventilator when things are hard -they often are in his country of contrasts- and as a love declaration to life itself. He is a true Mandingue, a Griot, peaceful and kind, as the philosophy preaches.Accompanying such legends like Toumani Diabate and Kasse Mady Diabate, Gaoussou Kouyate, with his beloved village 'Sobra' as his middle name, has long proven his level. Yet his name has been relatively undiscovered. The trio performed a memorable concert at Dakar Music Expo, led by their producers, Dudu Saar and Lucy Duran. What started being noticed internationally through this exceptional trio was Gaoussou's composing skills.The electric SOBRA DANCE album was released first, to contrast and give space to the acoustic GUITARI BARO album. Now comes the time for DJANGO BLUES. This great album features Gaoussou's band as well as an exceptional Moroccan Ribab- Amazigh violin master and singer, Aziz Ozouss.

Melissa Weikart and her piano have proceeded through life in step, from her early classical


training to the experimental practice that defines her work today, a blending of sounds and forms that has never been so clear—and so fully realized—as on her new album, Contact. Across twelve shifting and evocative tracks that examine the connective tissue binding us to ourselves and others, the Franco-American musician’s voice and piano navigate personal and emotional terrain with clarity and nuance, forging a rich dialogue between artist and instrument, artist and self, and artist and listener.


Winner of the 2022 Nancy Jazz Pulsations emerging artist award and the instrumentalist prize at the 2023 La Défense National Jazz Competition, Weikart has released two EPs and an album as a solo artist, and one EP and an album—Surprise and Secret—with her electronic duo Beatrice Melissa. A student of jazz and ’70s folk-pop, and a keen lover of improvisation since her time at the New England Conservatory in Boston, Weikart has always conjured the confessional candor of the singer- songwriter in her music, even as she dispenses her lyrics across rich, shifting, dreamlike tableaux.


On Contact, written and arranged entirely by Weikart (aside from “New angles”), she pushes her sound further than ever before. The album is animated by a pressing need for connection, observing what brings us together and what drives us apart, and the life-saving revelations that emerge along the way. The album’s opener, “Crash,” is a dreamy telephone-hour ode, a message in a bottle, to connections new and old. On the wistful “Mesurer le vent,” Weikart conjures Debussy or Ravel, layering contrasting sounds like an Impressionist painting. The title track begins as a showcase of Weikart’s frank lyricism, a splice-reel of missed connections and wasted time, then glides into a hazy, euphoric galaxy of pleas, circling around her thesis—“I wanted to make contact”—that ushers us into “The Intersection,” a song that recalls her the beginning of her career, when it was just Weikart and her keys. “Appétit.e” is built around a sample of her down-the-hall neighbor’s drumming—another subtle, affecting gesture toward proximity and connection—while pulsating synths reminiscent of Air lend the track an unsteady atmosphere. On the Carpenters-inspired “Expectations,” Weikart muses on the relationship patterns, universal and specific, that have always been a hallmark of her songwriting.

The psychedelic “L’amour de construit” is a slow-motion fall down the rabbit hole, as Weikart
considers the way her own emotions are captured and commodified by the confining ways we think about love. The interlude—“L’amour pt. 2”—finds her near the end of that trip, shouting into the void as a last-ditch effort to rescue herself from the fall. The drums near the end of the interlude warn us that there may be no cushion for, until she is saved, again, by the power of revelation, on the confident, resilient “Not Right”—on which a show-stopping, frenetic conversation between singer and piano is gracefully interrupted by a rush of transcendent strings, lifting her back up.

On solid ground anew, “New angles,” featuring Manu Delta, creates a percussion-less groove that relies on experimental synth sounds. The 11-o’clock stunner “Catching up”—composed in a church—meets the singer in a state of ecstatic confession, bringing her to the formative memory that propels “Bicycle,” the album’s closer. Younger, more wide-eyed, she reflects on her move from Boston to Strasbourg, those early days, when Weikart had no other companion than that loyal hunk of scrap metal that took her to the shores of her own soul. She seems to suggest, on “Bicycle,” that a backward-glance is not always troublesome, not always anxiety-producing, but can be grounding: a reminder of where we come from, so that we can keep moving forward.