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Vilhelm Hasselgren is a Gothenburg-based producer and DJ with a focus on Jungle and productions that move between 160-170 bpm. Vilhelm focuses a lot on complex rhythms and ambient soundscapes and takes inspiration from both older and modern Jungle, as well as other electronic acts such as Basic Channel, Mala, Skee Mask and Arkajo. Vilhelm tries to create soundscapes that move between different musical starting points.
He has previously released on Rezonant Body, Canape Records, Bukva Sound and Of Paradise Records. Also has an upcoming EP releasing on Bukva as well as a V.A on Western Lore. In 2025, Vilhelm also has a residency at London-based Subtle Radio.

Vilhelms words:
Central Line EP is an EP that I'd myself consider to be my debut EP. The tracks were created within a two-and a half year span, with some tracks being re-worked and replaced. Later ending up with the final track-list, which I am very happy in how it ended up in the end. One of the tracks that were later added onto the EP being 1000 a co-production with my brother Einar (Local Arms), which we spontaneously recorded at our parents house over a weekend.

I mostly start from percussion, onto bass and later melody in my productions. The title track "Central Line" was started when I lived in Brighton for half a year, together with Theo Soderlund (Theomega). The Eski sample is a bit tricky one, but wanted to experiment with it, further I chopped an Amen and a Think break with an idea to create a pretty simple rhythm that could leave the riff to speak for itself. Even though the tracks were created within a pretty long span of time, I feel like they portray a sound that I want to further explore and produce at this point. Also Arcne adding a monster remix of Central Line that has been getting lot of love. Could not be happier to release it on Bukva Sound which prior releases I think really captivate a sound that has been really inspiring throughout the process.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

TC.KYLIE x The Hourglass brings dynamic jazz fusion music from her debut album, integrating Hong Kong, Japanese and British cultures. Kylie leads her band dynamically on stage playing keyboard and synth keytar, iconic in Japanese jazz rock & highly memorable to watch.TC.KYLIE, a jazz fusion pianist, performs regularly in both Hong Kong and London. Inspired by the likes of Shaun Martin and Robert Glasper, she also continues to write songs in the areas of Japanese acid jazz, following Fox Capture Plan, Jabberloop, Toconoma, Jizue and Bohemianvoodoo. Prior to becoming a performing artist, Kylie previously worked as a news documentary journalist for radio and TV networks in Hong Kong, She spent much of her time connecting human stories and investigating the connections between people and society which was inspiring and enlightening but also often heavy and difficult within increasingly tricky political landscapes unfolding around her.

Under the changing social environment in her hometown and with the hit of the pandemic, she decided to take an indefinite well-earned break in 2020 to take care of her own well-being & passions. During a stay at a jazz cafe and hostel in Lake Towada in Aomori, Japan, encouraged by the hostel owner as a jazz enthusiast; Kylie sat in front of the piano, contemplated and played scattered notes to express what she had been enduring during her time as a political/social reporter.

Finding herself joyfully picking up music in her life again after years of leaving it behind, she wrote the song "The Last Grief" a tribute to one of her deepest sorrows and in remembrance of her best friend in childhood who battled heavily with depression. This song went on to be an official selection for the International Toronto Music Video Festival as well as the Toronto Asian Independent Film Festival in 2023.

Repress!

Up next on Open Space is the first installment in a new series of 12 inch records for DJs titled ‘Open Space Club Tools’ - as the name suggests, you’ll find a variety of tools handmade by our favorite producer-DJ’s. Sticky drum beats and tricky rhythms for the nearly-extinct club deejay.

OSCT01 features Benedek, and John Jones as ‘Calvin’ representing our LA-MIA connection, Lachlan McGeehan aka ‘Liluzu’ from Australia, and of course our Miami boy Goiz; once as himself on the A-side, and again on the B-side under his newest percussion-focused alias ‘Glue Boy’. A mixed bag of hammers, nails, screwdrivers and more… All greased up and ready for whatever the club world may bring your way.

And another! One Eye Witness rounds up 4 more acts to deliver the latest instalment of their V/A series, WITNESS07. The EP brings together names from across Europe: here fresh faces — the likes of Bristol’s JoeLy — rub shoulders with more established dancefloor exponents such as SameSame from Germany and Rome’s Christopher Ledger, all utilising the hypnotic tech house aesthetic championed by O.E.W.

Young Adults’ “It’s Only Temporary” kicks the EP into gear, a perky cut loaded with bounce. The The Hague duo employ a rubbery bassline and sound palette with plenty of boing, whilst working in a playful nod to a certain 1997 Loveparade anthem. Christopher Ledger gets classy on “Change That”, its slinky, steady break keeping hips in motion whilst tricky dubwise FX swirl across the stereo field. JoeLy slows things down and reigns it in with “Transitional”: beneath the filter sweeps, a seductive, sliding acid bassline is accompanied by augmented 303 action. As punchy as it is textural, the fittingly titled “Novel End” by SameSame seems draped in gauze — delicate drones wrap the drums in a soft cocoon, offering something a little more cerebral. WITNESS07: A tech house Tour de Europe, brought to you by Amsterdam’s all-seeing eye!

Montreal-based rock band Le Nombre, active from 2002 to 2009, released three albums filled with raw poetry and relentless riffs and rhythms. Scénario Catastrophe was produced by Ian Blurton (Tricky Woo, The Weakerthans) and recorded in Toronto. Released in 2004, it marked the band’s peak both musically and lyrically. This record enabled them to tour Europe, the United States, and Canada, where they opened for The New York Dolls at Festival d’été de Québec. Praised by the press both here and abroad, the album, now offered with a remastered sound, will be available on vinyl for the first time in February 2025, twenty years after its original release.

Montreal-based rock band Le Nombre, active from 2002 to 2009, released three albums filled with raw poetry and relentless riffs and rhythms. Scénario Catastrophe was produced by Ian Blurton (Tricky Woo, The Weakerthans) and recorded in Toronto. Released in 2004, it marked the band’s peak both musically and lyrically. This record enabled them to tour Europe, the United States, and Canada, where they opened for The New York Dolls at Festival d’été de Québec. Praised by the press both here and abroad, the album, now offered with a remastered sound, will be available on vinyl for the first time in February 2025, twenty years after its original release.

Knox Chandler’s career has spanned for over four decades, including performing, recording, arranging and producing, with such acts as REM, Depeche Mode, Grace Jones, Marianne Faithful, Natalie Merchant, Tricky, The Creatures, Dave Gahan Paper Monsters and The Golden Palominos etc. His long stints as a member of The Psychedelic Furs, Siouxsie and the Banshees and Cyndi Lauper’s band; has given Knox the experience of a worldwide recording and touring musician. For the past ten years Knox was residing in Berlin Germany, deepening his exploration of sonic soundscapes (Sound Ribbons), and applying it to different genres and mediums.

Bobby Previte is a drummer, composer and bandleader whose work explores the nexus between notated and improvised music. One of the seminal figures of the 1980s New York ‘Downtown’ scene, Previte has received multiple awards for music composition including the 2015 Greenfield Prize for Music and a 2012 Guggenheim Fellowship. His original compositions have been recorded and released on Sony, Elektra, Rykodisc, New World, Cantaloupe and Rarenoise. Leading a plethora of diverse ensembles from the drums, he has collaborated with an array of leading lights in and beyond the music world, including master composer John Adams, pianist Terry Adams of NRBQ, pantheon filmmaker Robert Altman, fellow Doom Jazzer Jamie Saft (recording released by Subsound), country music star Jessi Colter, blues great Johnny Copeland, composer and visionary Lukas Foss, computer music pioneer Lejaren Hiller, seven-string guitar wizard Charlie Hunter, re-discovered genius Julius Eastman, Rock author and ambassador Lenny Kaye, Lounge Lizards leader John Lurie, jazz/noise shredder Sonny Sharrock, folk hero Victoria Williams, maestro Michael Tilson-Thomas, the legendary Tom Waits, and, most recently, rock icon Iggy Pop.

Knox Chandler’s career has spanned for over four decades, including performing, recording, arranging and producing, with such acts as REM, Depeche Mode, Grace Jones, Marianne Faithful, Natalie Merchant, Tricky, The Creatures, Dave Gahan Paper Monsters and The Golden Palominos etc. His long stints as a member of The Psychedelic Furs, Siouxsie and the Banshees and Cyndi Lauper’s band; has given Knox the experience of a worldwide recording and touring musician. For the past ten years Knox was residing in Berlin Germany, deepening his exploration of sonic soundscapes (Sound Ribbons), and applying it to different genres and mediums.

Bobby Previte is a drummer, composer and bandleader whose work explores the nexus between notated and improvised music. One of the seminal figures of the 1980s New York ‘Downtown’ scene, Previte has received multiple awards for music composition including the 2015 Greenfield Prize for Music and a 2012 Guggenheim Fellowship. His original compositions have been recorded and released on Sony, Elektra, Rykodisc, New World, Cantaloupe and Rarenoise. Leading a plethora of diverse ensembles from the drums, he has collaborated with an array of leading lights in and beyond the music world, including master composer John Adams, pianist Terry Adams of NRBQ, pantheon filmmaker Robert Altman, fellow Doom Jazzer Jamie Saft (recording released by Subsound), country music star Jessi Colter, blues great Johnny Copeland, composer and visionary Lukas Foss, computer music pioneer Lejaren Hiller, seven-string guitar wizard Charlie Hunter, re-discovered genius Julius Eastman, Rock author and ambassador Lenny Kaye, Lounge Lizards leader John Lurie, jazz/noise shredder Sonny Sharrock, folk hero Victoria Williams, maestro Michael Tilson-Thomas, the legendary Tom Waits, and, most recently, rock icon Iggy Pop.

Bloody banger with some Hardtek/Freetekno very Hardfloor tunes...
The Khenda B1 is a future classic for sure !

Cascading through kaleidoscopic stardust and forming in the outer reaches of the music universe, transcending time and distance, cosmonaut musicians Mo Morris & Zeben Jameson reconnect to write & record songs from opposite sides of their planet (Bali and London) written over the internet during the pandemic. Landing the much anticipated and eagerly awaited new A Mountain of One album "Stars planets dust me".

Welcome to the formative British psych electronic heroes A Mountain Of Ones 3rd studio album.

Mastered and reimagined and a full forthcoming album rework by electronic wizard, master selector & global superstar Ricardo Villalobos, featuring additional collaborations from 80s/90s Balearic legends "The Woodentops`s" front man "Rolo McGinty,”, Japan’s cult heroes ``Dip in the Pool" and "Unkle" and "Toy Drum`s" Pablo Clements.

UK Dub master "Dennis Bovell MBE" also makes an incredible appearance on the "Custards Last Stands" dub versions. Now available on a ltd Japanese 10". A beautiful artwork series generously loaded in by photography legend Dick Sweeney, and co-mixed by Dea Barandana in Indonesia. With its cosmic pop sound, soulful soaring, balearic sensibilities and feel good choruses it carries all the weight of a much needed revo- lution in psychedelic, conceptual ever popular music and sounds & feels like the infamous crossover album that promised to come from the heady days of the bands ascend last time round.

So here’s some back story, garnered from the hearsay, folk law, the myths and the legends, of 10 years ago, in case, like Mo & Zeb, if they'd remembered any of it, they probably weren’t there, after 2 much acclaimed albums and sellout shows vanishing in a cosmic cloud of dust the yin and yang brothers Mo Morris (ZSOU/Electric Stew) & Zeb Jameson (Oasis/Tricky/Pretenders) uncoupled and each em- barked on a pathfinder mission to equip themselves for their inevitable return... they just didn’t know it at the time... and as the global community ground to a halt 2 years ago they sought refuge from opposite sides of the planet in each other's company again.

The solace and rejuvenation it gave had them re-emerging as invigorated, inspired and wiser music creators, this has given rise to the evolution of their 3rd all important album‘s sound.

Zeb "our capacity as human beings is more phenomenal and limitless and way beyond the conventional thinking of society constructs but also in complete harmony with the intelligence and brilliance of advancing technologies".
Experiencing this energy together, as dedicated and devoted music pioneers, these great collaborative universal truths were revealed, imbed and steeped in their writing and recording experience as the music touched and resonated with all involved to create the fresh and fully formed A Mountain Of One 2.0.

Julia Fehenberger, Oliver da Coll Wrage, Manuel da Coll - und schon wird FEH draus - und der TripHop der 1990er wird unangestrengt und elegant in die 2020er Jahre katapultiert. Die Drei, die schon seit Jahren befreundet sind, starten im Dezember 2021 ihr Projekt FEH. Sehr schnell ist klar, dass es da neben der Liebe zum TripHop auch das Bedürfnis gibt, den Wahnsinn der letzten zwei Jahre wenigstens musikalisch zu verarbeiten und ihm damit ein Stück weit auf die Schliche zu kommen. Erste Songskizzen entstehen und werden als Memo direkt ins Telefon gesungen und in die Runde geschickt. Man glaubt es kaum, aber genau so war es. Diese Arbeitsweise führt, auch für die Drei vollkommen überraschend, ziemlich schnell zu homogenen und einzigartigen Resultaten. Man taucht ein in die TripHopSzene der 90er, schemenhaft tauchen Portishead, Massive Attacke, Tricky oder auch Moloko auf. Was man aber eindeutig hört, ist diese Band FEH, die all diese Einflüsse zu ihrem eigenen Sound macht. Es könnte eine Bandreise und eine Reflektion der eigenen Jugend sein, eine Reminiszenz an diese Zeiten aber auch ein erwachsener Aufbruch in einen neuen Sound. Ganz ehrlich, ist total egal, klingt einfach supergut.

The making of a maiden album can be a capricious process. One moment of outright musical flow paired with another period of sustained creative struggle are feats experienced by seasoned producers the world over. So when Miraclis was forced to hole away in his makeshift studio - in the midst of a global pandemic - the stage was set for something magical. Now it will see the light of day for the very first time.

Having released two singles on Secret Teachings to critical acclaim already this year, Chilean talent Miraclis will accomplish a milestone achievement in July with the release of his debut album: Origin Of Truth.

Difficult experiences were fundamental to the creation of such work, as were Miraclis’ inherent musical interests. He explains: “Origin Of Truth had its birth during the pandemic. I created it as a way of communicating to myself the sensations and feelings that were spinning around my head at the time. I've always been inspired by Bristol trip hop, as well as classical rock, and these genres definitely contributed to the making of these melancholic tracks. In a way I wanted to fuse all the musical influences that were part of my childhood, up until this point now, so this album really means a lot to me. It was my way of communicating, when there was a lack of social contact and communication itself was hard to come by.”

It's this meditative quality that initially drew Damian Lazarus to the project. “It’s a record that has its roots in electronic music, but it’s a very alternative, very deep, melancholic album. I find it both soothing and stirring at the same time, and that’s a quite interesting juxtaposition in that it feels edgy but delicious at the same time,” says Lazarus. “The fact that this was written in this place surrounded by the most incredible desert landscapes makes this a very important piece of work to me. It doesn’t sit in any particular genre, which is why it feels right for a Secret Teachings release. It hints at so many genres that I as a DJ am quite into, and it feels like a first as it’s unique and unclassifiable. That mystical, esoteric, edgy feel makes this a perfect release for the label.”

Sonnet opens proceedings, with ghostly vocals residing next to raw instrumental elements throughout. Miraclis’ signature guitar riffs soon converge on saddened keys, paving the way for Scienter. It takes the form of an instrument-based, electronic-inspired cut, building slowly before reaching a crescendo midway through via an enrapturing acoustic solo.

Floating Child comes next, brimming with a darker intensity courtesy of broody synth pulses and rhythmic hi-hats, as Shiver arrives next. There’s a rock-leaning sensibility to the piece that gives way to earnest lyrical offerings, opening swiftly into the breakbeat-esque world of Perceptions. Hard-hitting drums act as the focal point, with electric chords adding depth and intrigue, whilst Bright continues in a similarly heartfelt vein.

Introspective pads leave us feeling pensive, ahead of Interstellar taking us on a celestial journey through warped bass tones. Acting as the LP’s penultimate number, it’s a four-and-a-half minute showcase of guitar-based musical goodness and one that perfectly sets the stage for Trapped, a closing saga of suitably emotive proportions.

Miraclis earned his stripes as a DJ under the name Max Clementi in his native Chile, as well as Spain after a stint at the Barcelona SAE Institute. Playing and writing music since his parents gave him his first guitar at age twelve, he found himself inspired by synth wave, electronic pop, trip hop, and psychedelic rock of the ‘80s and ‘90s, drenching himself in music by the likes of Massive Attack, Tricky, Depeche Mode, and Nine Inch Nails. However, it wasn’t until he had to move back to Pucón to take care of his father during the pandemic that he began working on what would become Origin Of Truth.

Serendipity seems to play a large part in Crosstown Rebels’ new label Secret Teachings. Just look at the story of how Damian met Miraclis in the first place. It involved a chance midnight encounter in Pucón, Chile at a woodland campfire after the DJ was locked out of his hotel room. This meeting of minds was the start of a remarkable friendship, where Miraclis invited Lazarus to stay at his house and break bread with his family. The two kept in touch, exchanging music and ideas as a result.

Less than a year after Botanical Illustration takes patience and Skill EP, Giovanni Natalini aka CO-PILOT, comes back on Simona Faraone’s label, New Interplanetary Melodies, with the Green Machine album, which is its natural prosecution: inside it we also find the three tracks previously published by the same label in audio cassette format only (NIM001- MC).

Green Machine is a concept album, which takes up and develops the ecological issues already treated by the artist in his previous work, namely the increasingly tricky dichotomy between nature and machine and the harmful impact of humans on it.

The A side opens with the already published Botanical Illustration takes patience and Skill (A1), an 8 minutes suite in which the powerful Live drum breaks are perfectly combined with synths and vocal samples, transporting us to the tops of exotic mountains, to continue with the ecstatic Himawari (A2) that sounds like a “desert session” made on Mount Fuji, for a result of pure musical mysticism and finally, Mother Love Nature pt.1 (A3), a track that takes us back to more familiar territories, winking at the most experimental British trip hop of recent memory and Mother Love Nature pt.2 (A4) characterized by a background of modular synths and nature sounds effects that precede Giovanni’s powerful drums, underlining once again this perfect fusion of organic and synthesized sounds.

Side B opens with the psychedelic choruses of Dancing Like Fela (B1) supported by synthetic arpeggios and a frenetic drumline sounds like a breakbeat. Continuing along this side, we come to the unsettling use of vocal samples on the beautiful Halo (B2), the ethereal and danceable art-pop of Lost You - In Translation - (B3) to conclude with the evocative Playing the Zurna in Ulan Bator (B4), a track with a pressing rhythm and elegant arrangements that once again underlines Giovanni Natalini’s mastery in mixing sounds and suggestions that are apparently far away but that always find the right place.

Green Machine sounds like a valid attempt to finally find a “solid” balance between humans and nature, but it also demonstrates how the continuous mixing of sounds is the most effective way to escape from the homologation that is increasingly widespread in contemporary society.

Twilight of the Gods is the newest Netflix phenomenon from the vision of Zack Snyder. The animation series brings the spectacular world of ancient Norse mythology to life. The series is acompanied by a epic, haunting and beautiful film score created by Hans Zimmer, Omer Benyamin and Steven Doar. This collaboration between renowned composers results in a cinematic masterpiece that perfectly complements Snyder’s visual storytelling. Experience the dramatic power of Twilight of the Gods through this visionary soundtrack, a must-listen for fans of epic film music.

TCF Music Group founder and Rochester's own 38 Spesh is back with his brand new offering, 'Gunsmoke', featuring 9 bangers with guest appearances by the late great Fred The Godson (RIP), Ransom, Flee Lord, Che Noir and Klass Murda, as well as productions by Harry Fraud, Rain 910, Tricky Trippz and 38 Spesh himself, all topped up with outstanding artwork by Laz.

Gegründet 2016 in Berlin. Veröffentlichung von elf 7"-Singles bei diversen Plattenfirmen. 2021 folgt das Debüt Album "Paradies" auf dem Hamburger Label „Clouds Hill“. Zeit ihres Bestehens spielte Gewalt über 250 Konzerte weltweit. Die Touren führten sie durch Deutschland, Österreich, Schweiz, USA, Frankreich, Belgien, Niederlande, Polen, Tschechien, Slowenien. 2018 wurden sie von Weltstar "Jack White" als Support in Deutschland eingeladen. Später teilten sie sich Bühnen mit internationalen Größen wie "Raveonettes", "Fat White Family", "Tricky" und "White Hills". Jason Williamson von Sleaford Mods outete sich als Fan "Gewalt is wicked, follow them". Auch Jack White zeichnete sich beeindruckt von Gewalt "These three Germans - They sound amazing“.

Mit "Doppeldenk" erscheint nun das zweite Studio-Album der Berliner Band auf rotem Vinyl und erstmalig auch auf CD.