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UNOS, a Belgian artist with roots in the Philippines, has long been a part of the Darker Than Wax family, repping the label in Europe and beyond for a number of years through her parties and DJ sets. As she begins to put her unique productions out into the world, we are pleased to give her first release a home on the label.

Borrowing its title from the exuberant Filipino dining tradition - a communal, bare-handed feast among friends and families - UNOS' debut EP Boodle Fight highlights her sincere love for communities forged through club culture. The release was conceptualised during her first Asia tour through Singapore, Bangkok, and Manila in 2019, where the artist became acutely aware of the crucial role that community plays in sustaining a culture. Shortly after these foundational travels, the pandemic threatened the lifeblood of this

culture, prompting her to draw on her feelings from the tour to maintain hope. With the release of the EP, UNOS revels in the return of togetherness to club culture after the pandemic - just like a musical boodle fight.

Boodle Fight ties together this celebration of community with a number of other influences and experiences in the artist’s life. First single ‘Angermanagement’ is a ballroom-inspired roller, focusing on contemporary voguing culture’s ability to translate anger into queer empowerment. ‘Powerslide’ is a piano-driven house cut that attempts to capture the energy of a legendary Darker Than Wax block party in Singapore in 2019, while the frenetic pace of ‘Headlock’ evokes imagery of a crowded club scene that the artist sorely missed in 2020. True to the spirit of a Boodle Fight, the bright chords and bouncy rhythms on ‘Flavourtown’ imagine the best aspects of an inclusive space where diversity is celebrated like a buffet. Closing out the record, ‘Loveletter to Summer’ reflects on the tropical warmth of her roots in the Philippines. Boodle Fight manages to pack in quite a few themes and inspirations, while still maintaining a polished consistency from front to back, and announces UNOS as a producer to watch.

“It was a rainy day at the recycling centre in Leitrim. There, amongst the tangle of discarded kettles and broken-down toasters, I first laid eyes on her…” A few years after her stand-out contribution to our ‘Wacker That’ compilation and following a bunch of purple patch releases for Nyahh Records, TakuRoko, Fort Evil Fruit and Eiderdown Records, Natalia Beylis graces Touch Sensitive with a true landmark album for the label – ‘Mermaids. Recorded both at home in Leitrim and at neighbour Mat Warren’s studio (Studio Moo Moo – a converted cow shed), ‘Mermaids’ was inspired by two salvaged items: a CRB Elettronica Ancona - Model: Diamond 708 E electric keyboard from the local tip and a photo taken by her father found in a pile of old family scraps. Smuggled home in the back of the van and ridded of the nine purple crayons lodged inside, the keyboard sounded perfect to Natalia; “The sounds that come from her when I play always move me like water; swimming in rivers and floating in the murk beneath the surface.” The striking image which would become the cover art features Natalia’s mother and two friends during a dip in the ocean. We see three women hanging out on a large rock – their bad-ass hairdos and poses perfectly framed and saturated in sepia. “There are complete siren vibes coming from the rock. Three women, three girls, three witches, three mermaids. I wish I was one of them. Or friends with them.’ After testing compositions and recordings for months on the rescued keys, the discovery of her father’s image formed the final work: “A confluence of the sounds and the image charged through me, and the album began to flicker into being.” Much like the push and pull of the River Shannon, Natalia’s own local swimming spot, ‘Mermaids’ flow is both organic but unstoppable. Anchored around the album’s hypnotic 17-minute title track, we are fully immersed within this subaquatic suite from the first splash. Alongside the keyboard’s glistening tone, field recordings from Natalia’s expansive archive bring us back up for air; taking stops to check in with the chittering chickens and ducks of Athlone. In keeping with her back catalogue and extensive body of work, ‘Mermaids’ exists within its own imagined universe. This is truly singular work that continues to underline Natalia as one of the finest underground artists of her time. We wholeheartedly encourage you to take a forty-minute sonic dip into a deep, murky, watery world of her own creation.

Whitney did more than turn Whitney Houston into a pioneering sensation known around the world by her first name. Originally released in June 1987, the singer's blockbuster sophomore record became the first album by a female artist to debut at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 chart — a position it claimed for a total of 11 weeks en route to selling more than 10 million copies in the U.S. The Diamond platinum effort also contains four No. 1 Hot 100 hits that, when combined with the three chart toppers from her 1985 debut, gave her seven consecutive No. 1 singles — an accomplishment that no other artist has accomplished. Commercially and creatively, Whitney stands on hallowed ground — especially now that the record plays with a sound that puts into perspective just how extraordinary, engaging, and vital Houston's music remains.


Mastered from the original master tapes and pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at RTI, Mobile Fidelity's 180g 33RPM SuperVinyl LP of Whitney invites listeners to experience the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductee's pivotal album in audiophile quality for the very first time. Free of the dynamic limitations and tonal flatness prevalent on prior vinyl and CD pressings, it lets the music breathe and reveals the copious detail, nuance, and texture within the immaculately produced songs. MoFi's SuperVinyl profile offers further advantages in the forms of a nearly inaudible noise floor, dead-quiet surfaces, and superb groove definition.

In addition to featuring extreme clarity and immediacy, this numbered-edition reissue does wonders for the attribute that inspired more than 20 million people around the globe to add Whitney to their record collections: that inimitable voice. Houston's trademark mezzo-soprano — an acrobatic instrument equally capable of taking off on fantastic flights and unwinding for hushed meditations — benefits from the fantastic airiness and transparency afforded by this meticulously restored edition. Whitney has never sounded or looked better. The crossover landmark deserves nothing less.

Issued just two years after Houston's breakthrough debut, Whitney immediately signalled the genre-defying singer's intent to continue to push ahead and expand her palette. Shot by photographer Richard Avedon, the album cover depicts an iconic image of Houston — captured with a gleaming smile, bright eyes, teased-out afro, toned arms, and a right hand that appears to wave a friendly hello — whose active, athletic profile stands in contrast to the extremely formal sit-down shot of her that graces her '85 record. The change is telling: Whitney overflows with unfettered joy, rhythmic vibes, and deep-seated emotions that forever endeared her to the hearts and minds of countless listeners — and which set the standard for the wave after wave of divas that followed in her footsteps.

It's no coincidence that the first track on Whitney is the declarative "I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me)." Like Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" and Madonna's "Material Girl," the feel-good smash is one of the quintessential '80s gems — a lithe, melodic, celebratory release of pent-up energy and loneliness that glides across club floors, shouts to the rooftops, and shrugs off any concerns about vulnerability or embarrassment. Houston's swooping voice moves in sync with the sleek beats and dipping-and-diving synths. She practically takes her fellow musicians by their hand and leads them in a blissful dance that nobody would dare sidestep. Focusing on Houston's singing — a task made challenging only because of the impossible-to-ignore hooks and grooves — showcases the virtuosic facets of not only her register but her control, discipline, smoothness, and warmth.

That she replicates those feats for the entirety of the nearly 53-minute-long album makes Whitney that much more special. Houston reaches back and channels her childhood gospel training on the R&B-flared "So Emotional"; effortlessly slips into Quiet Storm mode on the duet with her mother, gospel great Cissy Houston, on "I Know Him So Well"; flirts with smooth jazz and collaborates with tenor saxophonist Kenny G on the lush "Just the Lonely Talking Again"; conjures dreamscapes and shadow-boxes with supple funk on a romantic cover of the Isley Brothers' "For the Love of You"; and, for the majestic power ballad "Didn't We Almost Have It All," displays the sky-scraping reach of her vocals amid a grand arrangement made even bigger by Houston's sweeping performance and triumphant finish.

Houston's once-in-a-generation talents weren't lost on the adoring public, radio deejays, or industry experts. In addition to harbouring four No. 1 hits and receiving nominations for four Grammy Awards, Whitney generated another Top 10 success in the guise of the Afro-Cuban-leaning "Love Will Save the Day." The album also netted Houston four American Music Awards; two Billboard Music Awards; back-to-back People's Choice Awards; a Soul Train Award; and various other accolades. It all makes the crux of the Washington Post's July '87 review of the album appear prophetic: "Her voice sounds stronger still and the songs are varied but so consistent she could garner 10 Top 10s out of a field of 11."


That claim still holds true. A brilliant fusion of pop, R&B, smooth jazz, and soul, Whitney is a showstopper – and one of the key reasons Houston is the most-awarded female artist of all time.

The electric eels were the first punk band, full stop. They may not have “started” the genre, but they were the first to tick all the boxes. The eels rejected every 1970s rock convention—professionalism, virtuosity, subject matter, image. Dave E.’s caustic vocals, complete with an aggressive lisp and a head full of snot, would become de rigeur a few years after the group disbanded. Meanwhile, the songs’ focus on car crashes, suicide, neuroses, and generally hating people were as far out of the mainstream as possible. The two eels tracks that do approach the subject of romance couch it in terms of not really caring that much about it (“Jaguar Ride”) or placing it in the context of a grisly murder (“Silver Daggers”). Also consider John Morton’s signature guitar sound, a nails-on-chalkboard tone with brutally free soloing inspired more by Albert Ayler than the blues or aspirations to technical facility. Ditto Dave E.’s clarinet playing and affection for lawnmowers and vacuums during live performance. They were notoriously violent not only among themselves, but towards audiences, police, and anyone unfortunate enough to be around them when things went south. Then of course there are the leather jackets, the clothing festooned with rat traps or safety pins. And no bass player, why bother. There is simply no other “proto” band to have had all these pieces in place circa 1973- 1975. Yet it is a mistake to consider the eels exclusively in such a context. Yes, the eels could and did shock anyone who encountered them, but they also had great songs. While both Dave and John were visionary writers, they also had rhythm guitarist Brian McMahon, a melody and riff machine who wrote many of the band’s signature songs. And they were no one-trick pony. Although much of the band’s material is appropriately high-energy, there is also the downer eels—morbid, harmonically risky, and in full existential crisis. Although it’s not a focus of this compilation, the eels also had a penchant for completely free improvisation. Over the last forty plus years, there have been several electric eels compilations. Spin Age Blasters is quite simply the best one ever assembled, every single key track is here in its best version, properly mastered by John Golden, and sequenced with an eye towards both flow between tracks as well as individation between sides. A true monster of an album.

Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively clean minimalist-punk. Singer Dan Shaw began Landowner in 2016, writing and recording Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Those available tools would inform the band’s unapologetic sound—clean, confrontational, and absurdly stark. With a stated goal to sound like “Antelope playing Discharge”, Landowner’s diamond hard structures, repetitious instrumentals and caricatured hardcore make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems our lives are tangled in and the dark absurdities we take for granted.

Landowner’s fourth Born Yesterday full length Escape the Compound focuses on the powerful grips manipulators and reality-deniers have on their victims, examining the social, political and interpersonal damage of cult-like influence and control. “A lot of the lyrics focus on cult manipulators and narcissists: falling victim to their toxic dynamics, and the difficulty of escaping their grip” says Shaw. From climate change deniers and conspiracy theorists to deceptive narcissists and actual cult leaders, Landowner explores the ubiquity of modern unreality through evocative imagery and a keen sense of awareness. The band’s plain instrumentation sheds and subverts hardcore punk’s noisy veil in favor of a direct, unswerving examination of these themes.

Written and recorded following the release of 2020’s Consultant, Escape the Compound finds Landowner leaning into the studio through deeper experimentation with a wider palette of sounds. The group’s lineup of Josh Owsley (bass), Elliot Hughes (guitar), Jeff Gilmartin (guitar), Josh Daniel (drums) and Dan Shaw played often since coming together in 2017. But with pandemic restrictions in place, the making of Escape the Compound became a much more insular pursuit, one where the mixing and mastering process helped turn the band’s most varied batch of material into a cohesive, thematic collection of songs.

Album opener “Witch Museum” is a collage of dark Massachusetts historical imagery. The song evokes a kind of cult dynamic travelling like a shadow through time, where dark absurdities are taken for granted, toxic behaviours are excused, and normalcy begins to shift. The line “Gail's behaviour has changed” casts fictional “Gail” as the dark manipulator, whose whim we’re at the mercy of. She sheds her toxic behaviour and the crisis finally ends - “and peace returns to the Commonwealth”- an absurdity, given that cult leaders and narcissists rarely seem to change.

By considering the past, Landowner sheds light on the present. The band challenges egomaniacs reluctant to accept an uncomfortable reality with both cynicism and concern. The literal landowner described in “Heat Stroke” collapses in exhaustion, cooked by a suffocating bass line and sizzling hi-hats. “You'd rather die of heat stroke than to let anybody see you change your mind,” Shaw gasps, later pleading with the character in “Floodwatch” to “please reconsider” their brazen stubbornness as they plunge through the rising waters of a flooded road.

The character in “Swimmer of Note” refuses to admit their miscalculations, instead doubling down on an ever-growing and increasingly-unsteady tower of lies. The sneering “Damning Evidence” sets a scene all too familiar: a smoking gun scenario with zero consequences. Shaw’s exaggerated vocal refrains and sarcastic inflections mock false hope: “how will they be expected to keep their minds intact, at the shock of simply hearing such damning evidence?”

“Beyond the Darkened Library” creaks open a secret passageway into a dimly lit, endless labyrinth of conspiracy theories, in which the character becomes hopelessly lost. “Aftermath” sounds the alarms: “stare so long that you start getting used to it; one glance says you should never get used to it.” The pair of “Tactics” tracks express what Shaw calls “an interpersonal microcosm of the album’s themes.”

Perhaps the most ambitious arc on Escape the Compound loosely begins with the title track. The subject in “Escape the Compound” gradually recognizes their own victimhood and plans a calculated flight from the “captivating shepherd” – hop the fence, flee, and regain autonomy. As the narrator escapes their stifling and abusive cult microcosm, a much grander existential timeline begins to appear. “Thousands of Years in Fast Forward” narrates a psychedelic surrender to the shared human experience through space and time, an ego-death adjacent to our ancestry, our own existence, and the before and after. “At the site of the crater, molecular hands unclasp molecular hands as you lose conditioning,” Shaw sings on the title track, “Your grandmother's garden. Your grandmother's kitchen. Your grandmother's primordial ocean.” It’s a profound actualizing glimpse into a true, forgotten reality and a startling reconnection with the self.

Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively clean minimalist-punk. Singer Dan Shaw began Landowner in 2016, writing and recording Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Those available tools would inform the band’s unapologetic sound—clean, confrontational, and absurdly stark. With a stated goal to sound like “Antelope playing Discharge”, Landowner’s diamond hard structures, repetitious instrumentals and caricatured hardcore make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems our lives are tangled in and the dark absurdities we take for granted.

Landowner’s fourth Born Yesterday full length Escape the Compound focuses on the powerful grips manipulators and reality-deniers have on their victims, examining the social, political and interpersonal damage of cult-like influence and control. “A lot of the lyrics focus on cult manipulators and narcissists: falling victim to their toxic dynamics, and the difficulty of escaping their grip” says Shaw. From climate change deniers and conspiracy theorists to deceptive narcissists and actual cult leaders, Landowner explores the ubiquity of modern unreality through evocative imagery and a keen sense of awareness. The band’s plain instrumentation sheds and subverts hardcore punk’s noisy veil in favor of a direct, unswerving examination of these themes.

Written and recorded following the release of 2020’s Consultant, Escape the Compound finds Landowner leaning into the studio through deeper experimentation with a wider palette of sounds. The group’s lineup of Josh Owsley (bass), Elliot Hughes (guitar), Jeff Gilmartin (guitar), Josh Daniel (drums) and Dan Shaw played often since coming together in 2017. But with pandemic restrictions in place, the making of Escape the Compound became a much more insular pursuit, one where the mixing and mastering process helped turn the band’s most varied batch of material into a cohesive, thematic collection of songs.

Album opener “Witch Museum” is a collage of dark Massachusetts historical imagery. The song evokes a kind of cult dynamic traveling like a shadow through time, where dark absurdities are taken for granted, toxic behaviors are excused, and normalcy begins to shift. The line “Gail's behavior has changed” casts fictional “Gail” as the dark manipulator, whose whim we’re at the mercy of. She sheds her toxic behavior and the crisis finally ends - “and peace returns to the Commonwealth”- an absurdity, given that cult leaders and narcissists rarely seem to change.

By considering the past, Landowner sheds light on the present. The band challenges egomaniacs reluctant to accept an uncomfortable reality with both cynicism and concern. The literal landowner described in “Heat Stroke” collapses in exhaustion, cooked by a suffocating bass line and sizzling hi-hats. “You'd rather die of heat stroke than to let anybody see you change your mind,” Shaw gasps, later pleading with the character in “Floodwatch” to “please reconsider” their brazen stubbornness as they plunge through the rising waters of a flooded road.

The character in “Swimmer of Note” refuses to admit their miscalculations, instead doubling down on an ever-growing and increasingly-unsteady tower of lies. The sneering “Damning Evidence” sets a scene all too familiar: a smoking gun scenario with zero consequences. Shaw’s exaggerated vocal refrains and sarcastic inflections mock false hope: “how will they be expected to keep their minds intact, at the shock of simply hearing such damning evidence?”

“Beyond the Darkened Library” creaks open a secret passageway into a dimly lit, endless labyrinth of conspiracy theories, in which the character becomes hopelessly lost. “Aftermath” sounds the alarms: “stare so long that you start getting used to it; one glance says you should never get used to it.” The pair of “Tactics” tracks express what Shaw calls “an interpersonal microcosm of the album’s themes.”

Perhaps the most ambitious arc on Escape the Compound loosely begins with the title track. The subject in “Escape the Compound” gradually recognizes their own victimhood and plans a calculated flight from the “captivating shepherd” – hop the fence, flee, and regain autonomy. As the narrator escapes their stifling and abusive cult microcosm, a much grander existential timeline begins to appear. “Thousands of Years in Fast Forward” narrates a psychedelic surrender to the shared human experience through space and time, an ego-death adjacent to our ancestry, our own existence, and the before and after. “At the site of the crater, molecular hands unclasp molecular hands as you lose conditioning,” Shaw sings on the title track, “Your grandmother's garden. Your grandmother's kitchen. Your grandmother's primordial ocean.” It’s a profound actualizing glimpse into a true, forgotten reality and a startling reconnection with the self.

From Elvis in Memphis retains the distinction of being the most cohesive, passionate, mature, and emotionally invested record Elvis Presley ever made. Named one of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time by Rolling Stone, the white-soul landmark features backing by "The "Memphis Boys" and teems with rhythm-heavy country, gospel, R&B, and blues. Lauded for its natural, open sonics, the 1969 set now comes across with remarkable clarity, presence, and warmth courtesy of a premium restoration befitting a king.

Mastered from the original master tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at RTI, and strictly limited to 10,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set of From Elvis in Memphis unearths the ravishing inner detail, sticky rhythms, and brilliant arrangements of Chips Moman's inspired production. In short, this unparalleled reissue unlocks the spirit and gestalt of the recording and takes you inside American Sound Studio. It also brings you up close and personal with Presley's singing – widely considered by many to represent the finest of his career – located dead-centre amidst the instrumental hurricane. Equally impressive are the contributions of the aforementioned Boys, and how their Southern-brewed playing – a balance of leisure with swiftness, grandiosity with concision, freedom with control – dovetails with Presley's vernacular.

The lavish packaging and gorgeous presentation of the UD1S From Elvis in Memphis pressing befit its extremely select status. Housed in a deluxe box, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. No expense has been spared. Aurally and visually, this UD1S reissue exists as a curatorial artifact meant to be preserved, pored over, touched, and examined. It is made for discerning listeners that prize sound quality and production, and who desire to fully immerse themselves in the art – and everything involved with the album, from the images to the finishes.

Sharing much in common with the full, rich, orchestrated Stax Records sound, From Elvis in Memphis oozes with choice nuances and distinctive flourishes that on this ultra-hi-fi edition not only arise with previously unheard transparency and sharpness, but complement and serve the whole. Take the specific tonalities and blending of violas, cellos, and horns that communicate mood and serve as counterpoints. Or lively performances of the backing quintet, and how the piano and Hammond organ trace the lines of the melodies and Presley's lead. Listen to the uplifting support provided by the cadre of backing vocalists (more than a dozen credited), unrivalled in Presley's canon and a precursor to the approach he'd soon adopt in Las Vegas.

Of course, From Elvis in Memphis precedes the icon's transition into his glitzy jumpsuit phase – and follows his merciful move away from the hoary soundtrack work that consumed nearly a decade of his creative life and prompted a rebirth that began in 1968. As the bridge between eras, the record seizes on Presley's rejuvenated attitude and commitment to quality, facets that drip from the fervency with which he delivers every word. For the same reasons, and for the fact it traces back to Presley's original roots and hip-shaking guise, the album further remains a cornerstone of American music history.

Writing about the work's 40th anniversary for Rolling Stone, James Hunter correctly observed: "From Elvis in Memphis represented the full-on immersion in the Memphis idea of Elvis Presley, the American singer second only to Frank Sinatra for the ability to conjure a particular sonic universe with his merest vocal utterance. And from the album's first song, in which a bluesy Elvis espies a woman 'Wearin' That Loved On Look,' to its last, in which a more straight-up-pop Elvis regrets the injustices of life 'In the Ghetto,' his fully engaged, newly energized voice finds its most logical album setting in years."

Incredibly, Presley and company completed more than two dozen cuts for From Elvis in Memphis. One, "Suspicious Minds," turned into the vocalist's final chart-topping single and lingers as one of his most beloved rock n' roll numbers. Even though it never formally appeared on the record, the non-album song is included here as a bonus track and attains newfound depth, energy, and swagger. Coupled with the other dozen tracks – including the sultry "Power of My Love," balladic take of Dallas Frazier's "True Love Travels on a Gravel Road," and driving cover of Hank Snow's I'm Moving On" – it makes for the finest Elvis listening experience available.

The Junkyard 2 came into fruition when it was released in May of last year, as an intimate collection of what she considered her best material. Scott has been taking piano lessons since she was eight years old growing up in California, and that instrumental talent is one of the most striking elements on the record. The songs reckoned with touchy subjects -- emotional labor, insecurity, healthcare -- with razor-sharp wit and care. Even if it was recorded poorly, the brilliance of the writing and performance still resonated. After that, she realized she had to do better, and so she unveiled Public Void in September. She ditched the piano, played with software, and gave her music a texture that was bolder, weirder, and catchier. Together, the two projects and Scott’s other singles have combined to amass 87.8 million on-demand U.S. streams, according to MRC data. The landscape of TikTok is cluttered, and hits are ephemeral, but Scott’s strike a unique chord and her image is constantly growing. When asked if she considers that music will be her full time job, she pauses, reluctant to think too far ahead. “I think, for the near future, yes,” she ultimately answers. “I’m definitely not leaving college for it. But the next couple of years are locked in.” As of April 2022, “Rät” is now a gold single. The album has streamed over 350M times in under 2 years.

In the quiet surrounding the pandemic, Madeline Kenney made sonic sketches in the basement studio she shared with her then-partner. She arranged phrases that called her—the sharp knife of a synth cutting a path along a blooming arpeggio, drums stuttering firm and tight. Working this way, she amassed a collection of songs she had no particular aims for. Some formed her 2021 EP Summer Quarter, others languished.

But in 2022, Kenney’s partner left suddenly and without warning, plunging her into the solitary act of untangling what happened. In the wake of her ensuing depression, she revisited these songs and found in them something prescient. She’d already laid the foundation for A New Reality Mind.

That her relationship’s end came without warning is only half true, though. The warnings were in the feelings and fears that inspired Kenney’s critically-acclaimed third album, Sucker’s Lunch (2020), which was co-produced by Jenn Wasner (Flock of Dimes) and centered around the idea of flinging oneself freely into the seemingly-assured destruction of new love, come what may.

If sonically Sucker’s Lunch was letting yourself be pulled into the warm bath of a good story, A New Reality Mind reflects the harsh light of truth coming to break the spell. But as sobering as morning light can be, there’s brilliance to it, too. To see in the clarity of day is a gift. A revolution. Rather than reckoning with love lost, the songs on A New Reality Mind grapple with the self that chose to fall. “I guess I only needed to look twice / Reflected in my attitude, my constant compromise,” Kenney sings on “Red Emotion,” the musical landscape screeching and gasping around her observations of how she made herself small to keep the dream of love alive.

These notions of sight and vision pervade the record as Kenney stands before the infinity mirror of selves she’s been to preserve bonds in her life. On “I Drew a Line,” Kenney contends with the stories she’s told herself to keep plodding along, and the way those stories shape her perceived reality. She invokes John Berger’s Ways of Seeing—“Everything around the image is part of its meaning,” we hear him say. “Everything around it confirms and consolidates its meaning.” Here, Kenney isn’t interested in shaming herself for being carried away by the fantasies of the heart, but rather in investigating the unavoidably human propensity to do so. “I, like everyone else, am muddling through my most ordinary disaster of a life,” she acknowledges, a sentiment which reverberates through album opener “Plain Boring Disaster.” “I don’t need to start again,” she sings at the song’s close. “But I can change when it ends.” We may all be doomed to repetitive, ordinary heartbreaks, Kenney realizes, but at least we can cultivate a capacity to witness our missteps and build new realities for ourselves.

This is Kenney’s most expansive work, while also her most solitary. Produced and recorded alone in her basement, these songs are manifestations of what it feels like to be transformed by pain. Textures collide and collude; sonic ornaments emerge and dissipate capriciously; saxophones soar untamed, as on the 80s pop elegy to self-sacrifice, “Reality Mind”. These songs beg you to dance, then pull the rug out from under you once you’ve caught the beat, leaving you dizzy like the whiplash of love’s end.

But in the propulsive power of A New Reality Mind, there’s also acceptance, self-forgiveness, and a willingness to move forward into life, with all its ways of making a sucker of you. “That way of living, I’m over it,” Kenney declares of the habits that hold her back on “Superficial Conversation”. “I do not need to be reminded of what I did,” she assures, the song opening wide and beaming, like a smile expanding to taste a new breath of air.

Get ready for the return of The Noise of Art, with their highly anticipated new album 'The Retrospective.' This concept album features 12 brand new tracks from legendary Suburban Base illustrator, Dave Nodz, under his Noise of Art pseudonym. As the man responsible for so many iconic record sleeves and imagery that built Rave to DnB, Nodz is a true pioneer of the electronic music scene.

To give fans a taste of what's to come, we're excited to present a special four-track album sampler, available on a very limited vinyl release. These tracks showcase Nodz's unparalleled creativity and skill, and provide the perfect introduction to an album that crosses styles and eras, taking listeners on an unforgettable journey through music.
With 'The Retrospective,' The Noise of Art has once again pushed the boundaries of what's possible in electronic music. Keep an eye out for the album, forthcoming on the Subbase Progression label, and be prepared for a truly unforgettable experience.

While the full album will be digital-only this limited EP is your only opportunity to experience these tracks on vinyl. Don't miss out on this unique and collectible release from one of electronic music's true artists and pioneers.

Offering a three track EP on Token, emblematic UK producer James Ruskin proves his capability and linear focus once again through 'From the Ashes'. Looking past trends to create a lasting record rich in texture and thick with impact, the project affirms what the scene has already known to be true about his work for the past 25 years.

Setting his intentions from the A1, Ruskin wastes no time by creating an intimidating introduction. Saturated percussion and stuttering keys whip through a 4 minute masterclass of sound system focused production. Adventurous in structure, Ruskin remains unquestionably in control of a bursting, almost chaotic track. 'From the Ashes 2' picks up what was left off, containing a hard-set groove with hi hats slithering in progressively from the stereo image to slightly destabilize an impressive club-heavy tool. With intricate work being done in the ambience, the EP's hard hitting second track booms through a cavernous acoustic, giving the record not only body, but dimension. Switching up the rhythm and focusing on more mental synth work for the third act, Ruskin quickly and mercilessly rips through his work with a shrill pad, creating overwhelming tension to be released in the first third of the recording. He brings a dosed dissonance between his elements, reflective of the qualities of vintage techno with today's capabilities and arrangement. Pushing intensity through waves, Ruskin leaves us in anticipation of a fourth track that is never given.

Since its beginnings, Hypnótica Colectiva has always shown a special interest in the music recorded and released in the city of Detroit.

A place with which we have both a blood and spiritual bond because of what occurred there socially and artistically during the 20th century.

This love led us to become ambassadors of what was happening there on a musical level, holding cultural events to screen documentaries translated into Spanish, as well as a number of themed sets at our events, dedicated motor city sections in our record shop or recently lectures on the history of the city and its music at the Museum of Illustration and Contemporary Art of Valencia (Muvim).

The time has now come to bring all this history, this musical influence, to the editorial section of our label HC records.

Detroit Legacy was born from the idea of capturing these influences on vinyl. Seeking artists from all over the world who share this passion that inspires them to create their music, what we can define as the universal Neo-Detroit.

For this first edition or first volume, the collective has enlisted in its ranks creators affiliated to the label who have shown us in their careers, this influence and this feeling.

Paul Cignol opens the record with Distance. From Dublin he offers us a track of warm sequences inspired by Deep Techno, with deep pads responding to organ keys and a subtle touch of 303.

Mallorcan LLuis Barcelo Sureda is responsible for the second track Funk Station. With a Techno Soul character that we might hear from Detroitish labels like Acacia or producers like Blake Baxter.

A real eminence in Techno is the Catalan Don Alex Martín, who already released in the mid-90s on Monssieur Garnier's label (France Communications). The Barcelona native brings his wealth of experience and wisdom through Megatech, which transports us to the spectrum of Derrick May’s Transmat who, in his day, was nicknamed "The Innovator". This track provides agile sequences of complex syncopated rhythms, combining with a dreamy Michigan style synth.

The anthem of the album comes from Ghent. The sublime Belgian creator, Mariska Neerman, once again makes our hairs stand on end and our hearts melt with a heavenly composition entitled Stellium.

No one interprets Neo-Detroit quite like Mariska, whom we baptise as a sovereign heiress of the genre in the world. If we have to think of an influence for this piece, we go straight to the genius of Detroit, the one and only Jeff Mills, in his most symphonic and harmonic facet of tracks released on his label Axis Records such as "The March", A Universal Voice That Speaks To All That Will Listen or A New Found Sense Of Being.

Some of these songs have been re-interpreted by world class philharmonic orchestras such as the Montpellier Philharmonic Orchestra at the 2005 Blue Potential (Pont Du Garde). Mariska's score in this song fuses organ keys with harmonic layers and violin - favourite instruments of the Detroitian extraterrestrial - with a harmonic result of strength and hope. An authentic anthem of classic emotional Techno.

Old School electro takes centre stage with the Master from Terrassa Ivan Arnau a.k.a. Dark Vektor. In the influence of Juan Atkins (the creator) as Cybotron or Model 500 and later creators who developed this sound like Aux 88. Metaverso Frik is a great recital of a urban poetry created and interpreted by Ivan, to completely devastating effect.

Croatian Bojan Jascur a.k.a. N-TER, closes the vinyl with We Will Emerge, in a exercise of vindication, a common weapon in the context of Detroit music. Raging, trippy electro in the purest style of Cosmic Force or Dynarec.

This first tribute to 8 Mile doesn't end with the vinyl, as 2 digital bonus tracks are included in the release.

We return to Barcelona with Pastin Futon in another sequence of consecutive oscillated rhythms oscillated much like Kevin Saunderson (The Elevator) in his day and the Techno Groove that we know today.

The most robotic touch of the release is the closer with this synthetic jigsaw puzzle of a track with echoes of the 1967 Detroit Riot, the Detroit Rebellion. Again produced by another Barcelona native, The Bandit (Dj Spy / Util Records). The sequences are very reminiscent of Arpanet and Drexciya.

The idea for the cover comes from Motor City itself by Jon Yowell, first cousin of HC records founder and head of HC records David Verdeguer.

Born, raised and a lifelong resident of Detroit, Jon is an enormously talented musician capable of writing lyrics, performing them on the mic and manipulating a number of stringed instruments as well as the drums, where he is a true master.

The cover is a tribute to the formative backgrounds of many of the city's musicians in every sonic trend. Wayne State University in the capital of Michigan.

Founded in 1868, it has offered didactic teaching to many of the city's musicians.

Not all of Detroit's creators went to university, and even less so when talking about Techno, many artists are self-taught or learned in a non-academic way, but it seems to us a good base to begin to highlight the origins of the city's music in a historic building, where those who have the opportunity to learn about music have been and continue to be educated.

The adapted designs are the work of our image manager Dani Requeni.

Mastering by Steve Voidloss at Black Monolith Studios in London (UK).

There's no denying the power of the drum. It's primal, it cuts across borders and most importantly, it makes you want to move. Ghetto Kumbé don't just understand that_they celebrate it, and it's why the tambor was at the heart of the Bogotá-based trio's 2020 self-titled debut album. Rooted in mysticism and the Afro-Caribbean rhythms they'd grown up with all their lives, the critically acclaimed LP thrillingly updated the traditional Latin template, folding in elements of modern hip-hop, house and bass music while also delivering a transportive Afro-futurist vision. On Clubbing Remixes, that vision has been further amplified, as Ghetto Kumbé_who were already one of Colombia's most prominent alternative acts_have now gone fully global; enlisting an all-star roster of artists from four different continents, they've put together a fresh version of their debut album that's been specifically geared to the world's diverse slate of dancefloors. As the title implies, the new LP is meant for the club, which is why Ghetto Kumbé have turned to Latin music heavyweights like Trooko_a multiple Grammy winner whose resume includes work with Lin-Manuel Miranda and Residente_and Monte (a.k.a. Bomba Estéreo founder Simón Mejía), along with top-shelf DJs like Nickodemus and Uproot Andy, two NYC artists who've spent decades championing Afro-Latin rhythms. True to the LP's global spirit, the record also includes reworks from batida maestro DJ Firmeza, fellow Afro-Portuguese outfit Studio Bros and Parisian house groovers Les Enfants Sauvages, plus genre-blurring remixes from sonically adventurous Colombians Montoya (himself another ZZK artist) and Cero39. Even the artwork on Clubbing Remixes is a remix, as Ghetto Kumbé have tapped Uganda's Denzel Muhumuza to transform the cover of their debut album into a new, explicitly Afro-futuristic illustration. Depicting a strong Black face and glowing neon fauna beneath a sparkling moonlit sky, the fantastical image speaks to both the ritual magic and Afro-indebted heritage of Ghetto Kumbé's music, and thanks to Clubbing Remixes, the group's passionate, drum-fueled sounds will soon be blasting out of sound systems around the globe.

Local Action is proud to present Cyclorama, the long-awaited debut album by Ariel Zetina.

A resident DJ at Chicago’s iconic Smartbar, a long-standing Discwoman family member and a key part of the city’s dance music and LGBTQ+ communities, Ariel has established herself as one of the most exciting electronic artists operating today - through releases such as 2020’s acclaimed MUAs at the End of the World and 2017’s Organism, and her meticulous approach to DJ mixes - as recently evidenced on Sestina, her 2020 contribution to Mixtape Club.

Written across 2021 and honed this Spring, Cyclorama is Ariel’s most impressive and all-encompassing work yet, showcasing her as a producer, vocalist and also curator, pulling together an ensemble cast of her peers in Chicago (Cae Monāe, Mia Arevalo, DANNN) and some of the most exciting names in contemporary club music (Violet, Bored Lord).

Conceptually, Cyclorama draws heavily from Ariel’s background as a theater writer and producer. Popularized in 19th century German theater, a cyclorama (or cyc) is a large curtain, placed on the back wall of the stage. This creates an illusion of extra depth in the background, and often is used to represent the sky. In Ariel’s words, “I imagine all the tracks on this as the lights and action projected onto the cyclorama. The whole album is like the cyc, a representation of the sky. Or an imagined sky. An imagined dancefloor. An imagined theatrical production.”

As well as drawing conceptually from Ariel’s background in theater, the album draws on a personal level from Ariel’s journey as a trans woman of color - most directly on Cyclorama’s three vocal tracks, ‘Gemstone’, ‘Slab of Meat’ and lead single ‘Have You Ever’.

On ‘Have You Ever’, Ariel collaborates with Cae Monāe, a dear friend and fellow trans woman of color. “‘Have you ever been with a girl like me before?’ and all the lyrics refers to the fear and anxiety that cis men who are attracted to trans women feel, and also any woman that doesn’t fit the mold of a stereotypical woman”, Ariel explains. “Cae and I - and many trans women - have been in so many situations where society tells cis men they cannot be with trans women and this explores that and gives power to all trans women in this situation. The techno reflects that, as well as the “Spell my name” section at the end, showing the true power of trans women.”

On ‘Slab of Meat’, Ariel delivers a hypnotic solo vocal performance that builds in intensity with each line (“I am treated like a slab of meat both emotionally and sexually sometimes, especially one left in the freezer on the back burner. Why did you bring this meat home from the market? For what? You’re wasting meat!”), while ‘Gemstone’, a collaboration with Mia Arevalo, continues the empowering themes of ‘Have You Ever’ in a different context:

“‘Gemstone’ is a call for trans women to take time with your transition because it will all happen eventually. As two girls who have started our transition almost a decade ago, I think we have both seen that we have always needed to take our time to take our time. Reminders not to rush or compare yourself to other girls. I love the metaphor of gemstone months representing different periods of transition. I’ve been so many different women in recent years, and I'm excited to continue my journey.”

It’s immediately followed by album closer ‘Tropical Depression’, the title of which is a reference to Ariel growing up with tropical depressions, storms and hurricanes affecting her hometown of Jacksonville, Florida as well as her family in Belize City:

“This track for me is about living day to day and continuing while dealing with my really intense clinical depression. The sample comes from “Why can’t you let me go?” but is supposed to be transformative and not necessarily legible. How we hold on to our trauma and depression like a protective shell. This is an attempt to deal with it in a different way.”

The Cyclorama album cover, directed by Dylan Bragassa, stars Ariel alongside Monāe and Arevalo in an imagined theater production. In Ariel’s words, “a theoretical performance starring only trans women of color - I wanted an ensemble shot to represent the ensemble nature of this album! Love how Dylan combines so many ideas to create a very unique image that asks so many questions.”

Dana Kelley, aka DKMA, is a much revered writer, producer, remixer, performer and creative force whose releases have become timeless classics and Holy Grails amongst DJs, music heads and collectors alike. A true artist and innovator, his productions possess the unique ability to engage, transport, challenge and enthral as only next level musicians can.

Grounded in the deep, soulful US House sound of the mid '90's, his earliest releases can be found on Strictly Rhythm, before moving on to produce under his DKMA alias as well as releasing music as Callisto on Guidance. Although Dana sadly passed away in 2013, he left us with a remarkable body of work that has remained both exciting and relevant throughout the last 2 decades and beyond.

Boston Boy Vol.2 is the 2nd in a series of compilations that focuses on Dana's visionary work as DKMA, during his most compelling and creative phase between 1997 and 2002. The compilations themselves are collated from an incredible & far reaching archive of over 20 of Dana's original DATs that have been generously shared with us by the Kelley Family. In the archive, some of Dana's most sought after & cherished works were uncovered, restored and meticulously assembled alongside previously unheard archival material.

The tracks themselves are bold, clever and inventive, characterised by a need for innovation. Passages of deep soulful house underpin more forward thinking electronics without ever losing dance floor appeal. Jazz solos sit imaginatively on top of gritty swinging rhythms, deep infectious b-lines, eerie textures and chord sequences are warm and effortlessly soulful yet with a sound design, sonic range, dynamism and a technical prowess that most could only dream of.

These compilations celebrate the life, vision and art of one of house music's most hallowed producers. Unique and essential, these collections pull together DKMA's most coveted works. Respectfully sourced, restored and compiled from all audio sources courtesy of the Kelley family and Above Board Projects.

Mastered by Frank Merritt at The Carvery, London, with special artwork by Atelier Surplus featuring a special unseen image of Dana from his family's photo albums.

DOUBLE BLACK LP : 2 x 140 G Black Vinyl , Sleeve & 2 x Heavy Weight Printed Inner with UV Gloss Finish

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

2 x Solid White LP, 5mm spine Sleeve UV Gloss Finish, 2x Heavy Weight Printed Inner Sleeve UV Gloss finish, marketing sticker.

Legendary electronic music duo Orbital return Early 2023 with new album “Optical Delusion”, the Hartnoll brothers first studio album since 2018’s Monster’s Exist. Recorded in Orbital’s Brighton studio, “Optical Delusion” includes contributions from Sleaford Mods, Penelope Isles, Anna B Savage, The Little Pest, Dina Ipavic, Coppe, and perhaps most surprisingly, The Medieval Baebes.
Earlier this year, Orbital celebrated their storied history with “30 Something” which, unlike other Best Of’s, contains reworks, remakes, remixes and re-imaginings of landmark Orbital tracks including “Chime”, “Belfast”, “Halcyon”, “Satan”, and “The Box”

SHORT BIOG:

“A human being experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest of humanity – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison…”

You many have seen this quote attributed to Albert Einstein on social media, the archetypal Smartest Guy Ever apparently having an out-of-character religious epiphany. It certainly leapt out at Paul Hartnoll of Orbital who spotted it in Michael Pollan’s 2018 book How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence.

“As soon as I saw ‘optical delusion’ I thought Oh hey, that’s the album title,” says Paul. “It just seemed to say so much about how people construct their own realities, how we see patterns that aren’t there, how we see what we want to see.

“But it’s actually a misquote. He never quite said that. In the German original what he’s really saying is that human experience is as relative as physics. Wouldn’t it be good if we could accept that, and find a kind of universal theory of everything for the human race? Then you look at everything from history to art to your Twitter feed and you think yeah, that’s what we’re all trying to do all of the time…”

Hence ‘Optical Delusion’, the tenth original Orbital album and the latest in a burst of renewed post-pandemic creativity for two brothers who’ve stayed at the top of their game longer than anyone from the post-1988 Class of Acid House.

Now with ‘Optical Delusion’ the Hartnolls dig deeper into the unquiet psyche of our increasingly surreal and disordered world. Sketched out partly during lockdown but fully recorded in the uncertain After Times, the album summons up conflicting emotions and sometimes beguiling images from years when the science fiction doomsdays that the Hartnolls watched on TV as kids finally came true. There are mesmeric tracks with names like ‘The New Abnormal’ and ‘Requiem For The Pre-Apocalypse’ and ‘Day One’. But there are also straight-up bangers and ethereal cosmic dreams, abstract sound wars and deeply human songs of separation and loss.

And it all starts with a bang. Lead single ‘Dirty Rat’, an outright Fall-meets-Front-242 class rant with vocals by Sleaford Mods mob orator Jason Williamson, harks right back to the Hartnolls’ days of politicised anarcho-squatpunk. It began as a remix swap (Orbital did the Sleafords’ ‘I Don’t Rate You’) and morphed into a comic, brutal, bass-driven harangue not so much against our rulers but at the petty, mean-spirited, frightened, Mail-reading voters who put them there: the people who are “blaming everyone in hospital/blaming everyone at the bottom of the English Channel/blaming everyone who doesn’t look like a fried animal.”

Also key to the album is opening track ‘Ringa Ringa (The Old Pandemic Folk Song)’ which returns to an Orbital truism, that time always becomes a loop. This chugging, cyclical Orbital groove gives way to an unnerving past-meets-present timeslip fit for ‘Sapphire And Steel’ as goth maenads The Mediaeval Baebes materialise to sing ‘Ring O’Roses’ – the innocent nursery rhyme whose roots are in the Black Death.

“I’ve always liked folk music and mediaeval sounds,” says Paul, himself an occasional Morris dancer. “I had the basis of that track and I wanted to spin it off somehow.” Trawling his archives he stumbled on The Mediaeval Baebes’ version of ‘Ring O’Roses’ “and my hackles just went up. I was like, my God, this is the original pandemic folk song.”

?his being Orbital, there are collaborations galore on the album, the roles once played by Alison Goldfrapp, Lady Leshurr or David Gray now filled by new talents. London singer-songwriter Anna B Savage contributes a compellingly fragile, Anohni-like vocal to ‘Home’, in which nature reclaims the scorched and vacant mega-cities. ‘Day One’ is a pulsing techno track featuring the singer Dina Ipavic. Paul got in touch with her after working on a score for a sculpture show of giant robotic installations by his friend Giles Walker during the pandemic. First Paul cut up his own score and Ipavic’s vocals on the track The Crane, which appears on the deluxe version of the album. Then he thought, Why not work with her for real? The result is school of ‘Belfast’, a bassy dreamscape with vocalised clouds billowing above.

The pensive ‘Are You ?live?’ adds to the Orbital product range of existential questions (‘Are We Here?’, ‘Where Is It Going?’) in collaboration Bella Union signings Penelope Isles, AKA brother and sister act Lily and Jack Wolter. “They’re our studio mates, they work upstairs!” says Paul happily. “And they’ve both got amazing voices.”


But Orbital are Orbital and never far from the dancefloor. “Eventually the more abrasive bits came back into the fold…” ‘You Are The Frequency’, first of two tracks to feature mysterious vocalist The Little Pest, surrounds the listener with warped voices ordering you to the dancefloor (Phil: “we wanted the idea that the music is kind of absorbing you”). And the second, the sinister ‘What A Surprise’, traps you in a paranoid electronic hall of mirrors.

In another nod to Orbital’s resurgent past the cover artwork once again comes from fine art painter John Greenwood, creator of fantastical grotesques for the covers of ‘Snivilisation’, ‘In Sides’ and Orbital’s most recent album, 2018’s ‘Monsters Exist’. Orbital had just had a slick Mark Farrow cover for ‘30 Something’ – this is a return to the overripe and bulbous techno-organic constructions that somehow express Orbital’s own uncontrollably fertile sound.

There are gaps in the future that Orbital are desperate to fill too; there will be tours and festivals and rooms and fields full of people. Those long paralysed months when we had little to look forward to but a Zoom DJ set made Paul and Phil appreciate the things that make life worth living.

Enter The Decagon assembles friends of the label - near and far - for further excursions into the abyss of industrial, folk, jazz and ambient music.

From Copenhagen hails Kristi Brud (Bride of Christ) extending us with a shimmering violin contemplation initially made for the short art film piece "The Abduction of Europa", absorbing a modal ambiance of harmonics rooted in central European renaissance. Recorded in Svalöv in rural Skåne comes a hillbilly folk jazz piece constructed by Joel and Ivar on equal parts violin, flute, upright bass and percussion, recorded somewhere in the misty era of of 2012-2015. Then, an interlude follows, reconstructed from the very early live sets of the label's own Inre Kretsen Grupp, laden with tuned metallic percussions and synthesized bow sounds. Following up, the idiosyncratic local talent Fai Ling offers a piece of Basinski/Hassel-esque horn repetitions in full deterioration. Concluding the A-side of the compilation is the band that never was - the only released material of Prins Emanuel and Golden Ivy's Börringe Kloster project - encapsulating their minimal maximal approach of low quality sound samples turned in to a wall of sound of rhythm of sorts.

The B-side picks up on different musings in the form of ambient cadence and carefully sculpted soundscapes signed Phillipp Otterbach, who gives us an unraveling journey into kalimba-hampered harmonies carried through a bed of industrial, synthesized sounds. Moonilena follows up with an eerie yet beautiful minimal composition of radio disturbances and repetitive, ear catching melodies.
Breaking the barrier of stillness, local producer and Catholic chant music fiend Digge Shim performs a rhytmical, tongue-in-cheek number that pulls widely from both the hymnal traditions of medieval Europe as well as the zonked out ambient trance sounds you'd meet in a mid nineties Goa chill-out room.
Near the tip of the decagon, we find the Cypriot producer, singer and lyricist Spivak presenting us with a feeling of the-familiar-but-never-heard in the form of an ambient pop breakbeat number with carefully crafted choirs oscillating on top - hauntingly beautiful and equally danceable.
Ending in the best of styles, well-mannered umarel and purveyor of drum-smitten metallic sounds shows us what Moisture is really about - the mental image of finding your true self dancing in purgatory in a never-released Kenneth Anger film set, encumbered with red lights and occult paraphernalia.

Eva Louise Goodman’s Nighttime project locates itself on a musical tree planted on the British Isles, perched atop the branch of folk leaning into sixties rock. Her upstate New York environs don’t stray far from that image. With tempered percussion, floating mellotron, and singing that evokes Bleecker & MacDougal on a fervent Saturday afternoon, her new album Keeper Is The Heart reaches deep into the essence of musicians such as Vashti Bunyan, Sibylle Baier and Pentangle, breaking down the decades into a sound thoroughly and bizarrely modern.

Through her years performing with Mutual Benefit, Goodman fell in love with life on the road and the collaborative energy of a band. In this third Nighttime album, she channels these experiences into her own music. The creative journey from writing to recording to mixing drove her deeper into a sense of self while expanding her sound. In the process, she put aside lo-fi origins and challenged herself to achieve the same intimacy with a bigger production.

Like most paths of self-discovery, the journey started with displacement. In October 2019, Goodman set out to record the album on her own, while cat-sitting at a friend’s empty Brooklyn apartment. Rather than recording, she was drawn to the overgrown garden, where she spent her days listening to music and reading old journals. Charlie Megira, The Incredible String Band and Roy Montgomery invoked the spirit of the album, as she realized that a new, more collaborative approach would be necessary to bring the songs to life.

In March 2021, after a pandemic year immersed in sound experimentation and writing, she entered the upstate New York studio of recording engineer Rick Spataro (Florist). Together, Spataro and Goodman dove into creating the album, recording one song a day, letting the spark and excitement of spontaneity be their guide. “I've always been fascinated with ‘automatic’ arts,” Goodman says, “where things are created intuitively and without premeditation, from the subconscious.” In this light, they worked with abandon–pushing through the heaviness of songs written years earlier with the same energy as songs which were not yet fully developed. Taking chances, improvising, they sought to strip away pretense, and elude perfectionism at all cost.

Among their experiments, the duo manipulated tape speeds–slowing or speeding up different instrument tracks, imbuing passages with altered perspectives. Improvisation was the key in track five, ‘The Way,’ a song about “the magical act of carving out a path through life, amidst all possibility.” After a long day of recording, the song was feeling heavy and uninspired. As night fell, Spataro picked up the Stratocaster and, in one take, laid down a rolling, roiling guitar line that defined the track.

This spirit of surrender weaves through the album. “Break free from time, and sink in the pool of the mind,” begins ‘Garden of Delight’, an energetic highlight, propelled by 60’s-era organ and Jefferson Airplane-esque vocals. The song was accidentally deleted after the first day of recording. By luck or fate, the one surviving file captured the song’s loose and free-wheeling essence. Inspired, Goodman encouraged her circle of collaborators to work similarly: “I gave everyone trust and total freedom to contribute as they felt called to, encouraging an intuitive approach of simply improvising, playing through the song a few times and then sending over the results.” Synth, cello, violin, saxophone and flute all appear, but often in unconventional ways.

Keeper Is the Heart reflects Goodman’s process towards greater creative freedom. The first words she sings: “Lift the veil of all of this hate/To see the fear at its base.” Her last lines: “We’ll follow the fates across the great expanse of time/To the source of the light within our mind.” In between is a work of art awash in personal awakenings that revel in the freedom of intuition, the lifting of veils, and the beauty of transformation. As Goodman states, “What is it you find when you look inward to see beyond, past your fears, to your heart's true desires?”

For nearly 60 years, John Cale has been reimagining how his music is made, sounds, and even works. MERCY, Cale’s first full album in a decade, moves through true dark-night-of-the-soul electronic torment toward vulnerable love songs and hopeful considerations for the future with the help of some of music’s most curious young minds. Cale has always searched for new ways to explore old ideas of alienation, hurt, and joy; MERCY is the latest transfixing find of this unsatisfied mind.

John Cale announces MERCY, his first new album of original songs in a decade, out January 20th via Double Six / Domino. For nearly 60 years, or at least since he was a young Welshman who moved to New York and formed The Velvet Underground, Cale has been reinventing his music with dazzling and inspiring regularity. There was the bewitching chamber folk of Paris 1919 followed instantly by the gnarled rock of Fear, the provocative and spare song cycle Music for a New Society followed more than 30 years later by mighty and unabashed electronic updates. Once again, here is Cale, reimagining how his music is made, sounds, and even works. His engrossing 12-track MERCY moves through true dark-night-of-the-soul electronics toward vulnerable love songs and hopeful considerations for the future.

On MERCY, Cale enlists some of music’s most curious young minds: Animal Collective, Sylvan Esso, Laurel Halo, Tei Shi, Actress. They’re only some of the astounding cast here, brilliant musicians who climb inside Cale’s consummate vision of the world and help him redecorate there. Cale turned 80 in March, and he’s watched as many peers have passed away, particularly during the last decade. MERCY is the continuation of a long career’s work with wonder. Cale has always searched for new ways to explore old ideas of alienation, hurt, and joy; MERCY is the latest transfixing find of this unsatisfied mind.



The writings and recordings that shaped MERCY piled up for years, as Cale watched society totter at the brink of dystopia. Trump and Brexit, Covid and climate change, civil rights and right-wing extremism—Cale let the bad news of the day filter into his lines, whether that meant contemplating the sovereignty and legal status of sea ice melting near the poles or the unhinged arming of Americans. Lessons from a life (still being) richly lived floated to the fore, too, nodded to on the previously released “NIGHT CRAWLING.” If we’re always regretting our past, aren’t we conscripting ourselves to permanent disappointment?

During “STORY OF BLOOD,” after the piano prelude gives way to a frame-rattling beat and synthesizers that feel like sunshine splashed across a snowfield, the voices of Cale and Weyes Blood’s Natalie Mering slide past one another, two phantoms trying to find a partner amid the modern din. “Swing your soul,” they both sing in aspiration. In the final verse, Cale remembers this existence is not just about himself. “I’m going back to get them, my friends in the morning. Bring them with me into the light.” The accompanying video by Emmy-winning director Jethro Waters is a mix of disturbing and serene featuring both Cale and Weyes Blood. Its deep tones and religious images emphasize the track’s dark, spiritual mood.

Cale elaborates: “I’d been listening to Weyes Blood’s latest record and remembered Natalie’s puritanical vocals. I thought if I could get her to come and sing with me on the ‘Swing your soul’ section, and a few other harmonies, it would be beautiful. What I got from her was something else! Once I understood the versatility in her voice, it was as if I’d written the song with her in mind all along. Her range and fearless approach to tonality was an unexpected surprise. There’s even a little passage in there where she’s a dead-ringer for Nico.”