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Modern Apartments arrive on Dark Entries, with Light on Water, an LP featuring 8 cuts of instrumental cosmic-kosmische analog synth workouts. Modern Apartments is Ryan Ambridge, the musician and producer best known for his work with dark synth projects Linea Aspera and Lust Pattern. While both of those outlets lean towards the greyscale and robotic, Ambridge wanted to explore a more colorful palette with Modern Apartments, a livelier, looser sound. The medium of film plays a major role here; Ambridge works as a projectionist, screening archival prints of 35mm and 16mm films, and the textures and temporality of the medium fed directly into the Modern Apartments aesthetic. But it isn’t all blurry edges and fuzzy optimism on Light on Water. Says Ambridge, “Regular beats from old rhythm boxes and the sharp angles of post-punk found their way in. The contrasting imagery from those old film prints, of dense cities and open countryside, is reflected back in the dialog between looser sounds and rigid stylistic choices.” This tension shines through on tracks like album opener “Completely,” which pairs the icy minimalism of John Foxx with the meandering grooves of Cluster, or the eponymous “Light on Water” which leans even further into the sun-bleached vibes of Roedelius. Artwork for this record was designed by Eloise Shir-Juen Leigh. Light on Water is perfect late-summer listening, as the last gasps of seasonal radiance fade into autumnal splendor.

Rocco Universal presents four cuts of cosmic machine funk on Cosmic Tiger.

Lovingly recorded using analogue synthesis, the floor-focused music favours feeling over control, with saturated drums, thick bass notes and slow-burning melodies loosely entwined over intuitive arrangements. Shaped patiently amid Rocco’s long-running residency at Potato Head Bali, the tracks meander through cosmic disco, proto-house, electro-funk and psychedelic chug, each finding its place beneath evolving twilight skies.

Rocco Universal is the alter-ego of Patrizio Cavaliere — DJ, producer and journalist serving the roots of music from the space in between. His cultured turntable curation alongside years in conversation with some of the scene’s architects and ambassadors inform freeform productions that have previously arrived on labels including Leng, Soul Clap and Adeen Detroit.

Originally launched as a blog, Cosmic Tiger now surfaces only occasionally through interviews and original releases, operating as a slow-moving but trusted archive of influences, conversations and dancefloor oddities.

Whispering Ln. Vol. II was recorded between 2018 and 2019 in America, alongside the pieces that formed the first album. These recordings belong to the same time and space, shaped by the same quiet focus and slow attention to sound.

While remaining rooted in minimalism, this album introduces several more rhythmic pieces, drawing inspiration from early electronic music – echoes of composers such as Tom Dissevelt and Raymond Scott.

Movement and stillness coexist throughout this record. Rhythms and patterns shift and occasionally dissolve. The music asks for little and offers even less explanation, inviting listening without urgency – to slow down and remain present. May it offer a moment of calm, where time loosens, and attention gently settles.

The Go’s Free Electricity, the group’s storied, long-lost album, finally gets a proper release! The Go appeared in Detroit in 1996, led by Bobby Harlow and featuring Dave Buick on bass and Jack White on guitar. Following the release of their 1999 debut, Whatcha Doin’, and a few lineup changes, the band hit the studio with Dion Fischer on lead guitar, John Olson (of Wolf Eyes) on saxophone, and Cary Loren (of Destroy All Monsters) to record their sophomore effort. The session found the band and their producer, Matthew Smith (Outrageous Cherry), exploring the outer edges of rock and roll, with blaring lead guitars, copious amounts of reverb, and a heavy jazz influence thanks to a heavy diet of ‘60s free jazz. The results erupt from the speakers with a cavernous sound, like some haunted frequency beamed across the time barrier from the Grande Ballroom circa 1968, often sounding more like records by Pharoah Sanders and Sun Ra than the records being made by The Go’s peers in the ‘00s rock and roll scene.

Free Electricity was written, composed, and arranged by Bobby Harlow (except track one, which was written by Harlow and Dion Fischer; and track five, written by Harlow and Cary Loren). Free Electricity was mixed and produced by Matthew Smith, engineered by Jim Diamond at Ghetto Recorders, and mastered by Jim Kissling at Jim Kissling Mastering in Detroit, Michigan. Guest appearances by folks from Destroy All Monsters and Wolf Eyes only reinforced the album's musical direction. Weird or not, this was an inspired recording made by an inspired group of musicians. There was a feeling of excitement and adventure happening at these sessions, it shines through mightily on this album.

"There are two versions of this album," says Hollow Hand's Max Kinghorn-Mills. "But there's only one that exists." Kinghorn-Mills is reflecting on a period when he was at something of a crossroads. He had written songs for his forthcoming fourth album but, after coming back off tour, something needed to change. “When I listened back to where I’d left the album, it wasn't exciting enough for me,” he says. “I was like: that's not really what I want to do anymore.” Since releasing 2023’s Your Own Adventure – which drew acclaim from the likes of Mojo, Uncut, and Shindig! – he found himself touring and collaborating with a variety of other artists. Hollow Hand became the house band for Caitlin Rose on tour, while Kinghorn-Mills was also collaborating with Aoife Nessa Frances and playing in her touring band. There was countless exposure to incredible Irish bands along the way, and then came a sold-out European tour with Hollow Hand supporting MJ Lenderman.

After a career spanning over thirty five years, from UK underground upstarts and outliers, to major success on the international stage - including tours with UK icons Iron Maiden and genre legends Dio - My Dying Bride have themselves become a firmly established pillar of metal history with a refined and influential brand of Death/Doom metal. With enduring popularity across subsequent decades, My Dying Bride remains a productive and captivating vessel for tragedy and despair, with their studio output spanning fourteen full-length albums to date.

As part of the “Peaceville Three”, along with fellow countrymen Paradise Lost and Anathema, My Dying Bride truly became a primary force in highlighting Britain as an epicentre of this Doom revolution of the time, creating a highly distinguishable sound assisted by the inclusion of violin & a more poetic approach to the delivery of morbid and salacious topics, lending an additional air of eccentricity and eloquence to the darkness.

Anthology of Sombre Reflections is an expansive and comprehensive collection of the early and much-celebrated works of the Doom Gods, from the formative deathly rawness of the revered Towards the Sinister demo, ‘God is Alone’ 7” tracks and subsequent debut album, As the Flower Withers, through to the gothic-tinged funereal seductive delights of 1996’s highlight, Like Gods of the Sun.

With the addition of all-time genre classic opuses Turn Loose the Swans, and The Angel and the Dark River also representing My Dying Bride’s much-loved early to 90’s period, the band’s three cult EPs are also featured in this deluxe eight-vinyl boxset, with each record presented on 180gm heavyweight black vinyl. The four studio albums themselves have also been treated to new half-speed masters courtesy of Air Studios.

Accompanying the audio is a 48-page book featuring photographs and artwork, plus new interviews with Andrew Craighan and Aaron Stainthorpe exploring some of the influences and thought-processes behind the creation of such cherished works of the 90s, as well as reflections of their output over this period.

Anthology of Sombre Reflections also contains 2 large posters depicting the Turn Loose the Swans CD artwork image, plus the original poster included in As the Flower Withers. A selection of photo prints of the band from this era are also included.

Great Television unfolds as a loose, emotionally driven narrative about navigating love, identity, and self-destruction against a backdrop of memory, movement, and Southern imagery. It begins with “Sunset Promenade,” where a deep, possibly lifelong bond offers comfort amid internal turmoil, establishing a desire for connection strong enough to withstand a restless mind. This sense of identity expands in “Girls of Atomic City,” where independence and womanhood are celebrated, though tinged with performance and uncertainty.

As the story progresses, songs like “Okeechobee Mud” introduce instability and intensity, portraying relationships that are passionate but corrosive, where love becomes inseparable from pain. “Thiokol Tripwire” honors the lives lost in the 1971 Thiokol Chemical Explosion and those affected in the south Georgia community of Woodbine. “Razorwire Wall” reinforces this devotion to chaotic love, suggesting loyalty even in destructive circumstances. A turning point arrives with “The Easy Kind,” where Cook reflects on attempts at self-repair, acknowledging her contradictions and rejecting simplicity in favor of a more fractured self-understanding. This awareness deepens in “Caldonia and The Love Convoy” and “In Your Veins,” where freedom blurs into recklessness and love takes on addictive qualities, revealing her complicity in cycles of harm. “19th Nervous Breakdown” provides crucial context, tracing her instability back to a turbulent upbringing marked by neglect and emotional disorder. “Feverfew,” leaves the narrative unresolved, as she recognizes her repeated attraction to destructive paths yet continues to follow them. In contrast, the closing track “Lightly” offers a rare glimpse of pure, protective sisterly love. Altogether, the album portrays a cyclical journey of longing, damage, and partial self-awareness, where clarity emerges but transformation remains uncertain.

Spirit of 76 Summer Campaign - Blow Your Face Out captures the J. Geils Band at their rowdiest and most electrifying. Recorded live at the height of their ’70s powers, the album is a raw, sweat-soaked blast of blues-rock, R&B, and hard-driving boogie. Peter Wolf’s swaggering vocals and the band’s loose-but-locked-in groove turn every track into a party, with extended jams and call-and-response energy that put you right in the middle of the crowd. It’s not a polished studio showcase—it’s a full-tilt document of a band feeding off the audience and blowing the doors off the room. 2 LP set recorded at Boston Garden and Cobo Hall in November 1975 is remastered from the original analog masters by Bernie Grundman.

‘Falling Backwards’ is the debut album from Him & Earl via Wah Wah 45s, serving up a mystic brew of desert blues, English folk, Americana and stirring southern soul, with tentacles stretching out into psychedelia and prog, across 11 hot and hazy tracks.

Singer-songwriter Olly Him and DJ, producer and composer Wyndham Earl both have deeply-dug roots in the south coast of England, with the former making his name as a solo artist before exploring his soulful folk/prog sound with a number of live acts, and the latter collaborating on albums and sharing stages with Bonobo, Khruangbin, Alice Russell and TM Juke, having remixes released by Tru Thoughts and Mr Bongo Records and releasing his solo projects on his Time Spun imprint.

The pair first met in 2015 when Wyndham produced some songs for now defunct hypnotic Afro-folk outfit Creatures Of The Deep, of which Olly was a founder member. They instantly clicked, but after the group broke up it was a few years before serendipity brought them back together; a chance encounter at a gig saw them begin hatching plans to make a full album under the name Him & Earl with Olly writing the songs and Wyndham arranging and producing the project.

After so long floating in the creative ether, the connective power of these songs has been strikingly immediate. The debut Him & Earl live show in early 2026, before any tracks had even come out, blew Olly and Wyndham’s expectations out of the water as their five-piece band found themselves toe-to-toe with a sellout crowd – a sweaty room full of happy music fans, on an otherwise bleak January night, throwing shapes to live percussion showdowns, losing themselves in psychedelic guitar and bass wig-outs, and singing along to choruses they’d never heard a note of before.

Since then, the first two singles “Bottled Up” and “Away” have had high profile airplay from the likes of BBC 6 Music’s Huw Stephens and Cerys Matthews, and Radio X’s John Kennedy, adding to widespread tastemaker and specialist support around the world, as excitement builds for the album.The LP’s introspective and philosophical lyrics are brought to life by a sonorous yet strangely uplifting sound palette that morphs by stealth into a darkly propulsive, psychedelic and bluesy trip.

Opening song “Away” taps straight into a key theme of the record – journeying, in both a physical and mental sense, and the quest to move on and embrace the unknown – and its sunny guitars, trumpet and violin barely even hint at the tumultuous sonic adventure that’s set to unfold. A stronger indication comes in the title track,“Falling Backwards”, as its elegant web of staccato finger-picked hook, fluid piano melodies and strings unfurls into a six-minute exploration of what Olly describes as “going through every day normality while feeling close to chaos and like things could fall apart at any moment… when there is a myriad of different things holding everything together and if one thing goes wrong everything can fall apart around it.”



“Better Days” swiftly restores a sense of upbeat calm, with lively Kora and Afrobeat-inspired guitar licks, atmospheric trumpet and a harmony-clad mantra of hope on the horizon; the folky “Bottled Up” continues that blissful notion with undulating finger-picked guitar, earthy clarinet counter-melodies and celestial murmurations of delicately plucked strings. The magnetic pull toward more mysterious horizons comes via the dusty twang of Wild West-esque guitars on “Open Road”, a nomadic journey of self-discovery through spacious sonic plains embellished with eerie flickers of flute and clarinet. This leftward turn gathers pace in the trancelike

psych-prog depths of “Preside”, an instrumental cut at the album’s pivotal halfway point. Hypnotic, guttural desert blues-infused riffs on “Inside” channel the feeling of a psychedelic or spiritual trip where, in Olly’s words, “something clicks and you understand things on a different level – it makes you see inside yourself and see things in a different way.” “Shadow overhead” brings a lighter touch to a darker subject – the feeling of paranoia and being locked away from the world – drawn from Olly’s own experience and also his years of working in and around mental health.

Exuberant horns lend hope to loosely looping suspense on “Blindside” (about being caught out by the unexpected, and searching for something to see or hear to pick you up again) and then mesh with urgent strings, low-slung guitars and subterranean bass on “Around Again”, which explores the modern fight to stay afloat amid the endless churn of information and distractions. Still plumbing the bassy, bluesy depths of this journey into the psyche, “You Can Only Know” is a dreamlike revelation about finding someone or something that helps to make sense of the world. Luminescent synths duck and weave, while a rock-solid bass riff is tracked by a soul-soothing four-part “hey hey” harmony, reassuring as a glowing lamp in the window at the end of a life-changing trip.

Recorded and mixed by Steve Albini at Electrical Audio in Chicago, the album captures Zu at their most raw and explosive -- where avant-jazz energy collides with the weight of experimental rock. Igneo (2002) by Zu is the band's debut studio album and marks the starting point of their distinctive sonic identity. Even at this early stage, many of the elements that would define their later work are already clearly present. The album emerges from a context deeply rooted in experimentation and exploration. Compared to their subsequent releases, the sound here feels more open and less tightly structured, with a stronger emphasis on improvisation and real- time interaction between the musicians. The trio--baritone sax, electric bass, and drums--develops a language that blends free jazz, noise, post- hardcore, and touches of contemporary composition.

Listening to Igneo, you can sense a balance between raw energy and expressive freedom. The baritone sax shifts between abrasive bursts and more spacious, stretched- out passages, while the bass moves from repetitive grooves into fragmented lines. The drums, in turn, alternate between tight rhythmic frameworks and looser, more fluid playing. There's a constant negotiation between control and release. Unlike the band's later, more disciplined records, the structures here feel more fluid and unpredictable. The tracks don't follow conventional forms; instead, they evolve like living organisms, marked by sudden changes, contrasting sections, and a persistent sense of instability. This gives the album a dynamic, almost volatile character. The title Igneo-- suggesting something fiery and primal-- captures the essence of the record quite well. The music feels warm, raw, and in continuous motion, as if it were constantly on the verge of erupting.

Recorded and mixed by Steve Albini at Electrical Audio in Chicago, the album captures Zu at their most raw and explosive -- where avant-jazz energy collides with the weight of experimental rock. Igneo (2002) by Zu is the band's debut studio album and marks the starting point of their distinctive sonic identity. Even at this early stage, many of the elements that would define their later work are already clearly present. The album emerges from a context deeply rooted in experimentation and exploration. Compared to their subsequent releases, the sound here feels more open and less tightly structured, with a stronger emphasis on improvisation and real- time interaction between the musicians. The trio--baritone sax, electric bass, and drums--develops a language that blends free jazz, noise, post- hardcore, and touches of contemporary composition.

Listening to Igneo, you can sense a balance between raw energy and expressive freedom. The baritone sax shifts between abrasive bursts and more spacious, stretched- out passages, while the bass moves from repetitive grooves into fragmented lines. The drums, in turn, alternate between tight rhythmic frameworks and looser, more fluid playing. There's a constant negotiation between control and release. Unlike the band's later, more disciplined records, the structures here feel more fluid and unpredictable. The tracks don't follow conventional forms; instead, they evolve like living organisms, marked by sudden changes, contrasting sections, and a persistent sense of instability. This gives the album a dynamic, almost volatile character. The title Igneo-- suggesting something fiery and primal-- captures the essence of the record quite well. The music feels warm, raw, and in continuous motion, as if it were constantly on the verge of erupting.

Consistent funk operator Ralo is back with a brace of tunes that will shake your bones loose. First up is 'Broken Way', a magnificently jumbled rhythm made from languid bass and kicks, peppered with organic percussion and heated through with soft synths. It's atmospheric and real, like the overheard soundtrack to a party happening in your kitchen. 'Djembe' then brings out some brassy horns to take things to the next level. They jump out of the low-slung drums and add jazz, soul and colour that cannot be ignored. Gledd and Monsieur Van Pratt step up on the flip with cultured reworks that turn things up to 11.

‘Confession' is an album of quiet upheaval. An album about closeness that arrives late and unexpectedly. About stability rubbing up against desire. About the way friendship can suddenly tilt into something charged — and how that charge unsettles everything around it. Where earlier work often observed from a distance, Confession turns inward. The voice is closer, warmer, less shielded. “This wasn’t the album I intended to make,” says Carla dal Forno. “I originally wanted something veiled and abstract, but I realised I couldn’t hide behind abstraction — the songs only worked when I leaned into emotional truth.”

This is dal Forno’s fourth LP, written and recorded over several years in a small country town, in a studio housed inside a partially abandoned hospital. Long corridors, humming lights, emptied rooms — a place built for care and waiting, now quiet enough for thoughts to echo. That stillness shapes the record: intimate, watchful, unadorned. “I live in a small country town that offers a stillness my life didn’t previously have,” she explains. “In that quiet, feelings I might’ve ignored in a busy city grew loud.” Dal Forno sings plainly and conversationally, with an emotional precision that sharpens the everyday into something quietly unsettling.

The album moves through paired states: going out and staying in, wanting and withholding, devotion and distraction. Domestic calm set against private unrest. A long-held relationship offers safety and routine, while a newer connection opens emotional fault lines — longing, jealousy, fantasy, self-exposure. “At the heart of the album is a friendship that became emotionally charged in an unexpected way,” dal Forno says. “That shift brought daydreaming, jealousy, tenderness, confusion, self-awareness — and eventually acceptance.”

The drama here is internal, incremental, lived. Musically, Confession feels lighter on its feet than its subject matter suggests. Melodic basslines anchor the songs while guitars, harmonies, and gently off-kilter rhythms move around them. There’s a looseness, even a playfulness — “like the sensation of tension lifting once you finally admit something to yourself,” as dal Forno puts it. The album traces a subtle arc: attraction blooming where it shouldn’t; obsession quietly taking hold; fantasy overtaking reality; clarity arriving slowly, sometimes painfully. Visually and emotionally, Confession returns to modest spaces: backyards, beds, night streets, overgrown paths. “The record exists in that contrast,” dal Forno reflects. “Peaceful surroundings, unsettled interior.”

Like all of dal Forno’s work, Confession resists clean conclusions. It doesn’t moralise desire or romanticise restraint. Instead, it lingers in the in-between — where love is stable but not total, where yearning teaches as much as it hurts, where solitude becomes a form of care. Plain-spoken but emotionally complex. Rooted and restless. Held together by bass, breath, routine, weather. An album about admitting what you feel —and living with what that admission changes.

n a career spanning over 50 years James Brown became known as a progenitor of funk music and influencing the development of many other genres. All his hit songs, hidden gems and collaborations are now bundled on Collected. It contains 29 songs, including music from his early days with the Famous Flames, the J.B.’s and a wide collection of tracks from his solo career.

Brown began his career as a gospel singer and joined a rhythm and blues vocal group, the Famous Flames, as the lead singer in the 1950s. Later on he formed his own band and released successful singles as "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag", "I Got You (I Feel Good)" and "It's a Man's Man's Man's World". While developing the funk to a new level he created the J.B.’s, with which he scored hits like "Get Up (I Feel Like Being a) Sex Machine" and "The Payback". Brown was inducted into 1st class of the Rhythm & Blues Music Hall of Fame, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Songwriters Hall of Fame. During the years he gained different honorific nicknames including "Godfather of Soul", "Mr. Dynamite", "The Hardest Working Man in Show Business" and "Soul Brother No. 1".

Music On Vinyl proudly presents a special coloured edition of the James Brown Collected compilation, which is available as a limited edition of 7.500 individually numbered copies on gold vinyl, and includes an insert with liner notes.

Tom Gillieron’s It’s Alright arrives on Studio Barnhus in triplicate: one original, two remixes, no weak links. A UK producer with a fierce command of high-pressure club dynamics, leads with a version that comes big, busy and blazing, brimming with glorious noise, swift movement and late-night intent.
Afriqua brings his trademark musicality to the second version, turning the lights up enough to let some melody through, adding bounce, swing and a touch of house warmth, never loosening the grip.
Bona fide UK underground originators Horsepower Productions lower the ceiling again, rebuilding the track for the darkest of basement clubs in the form of a low-slung bruiser with broken edges and proper bass weight.

The Flaming Sideburns' debut album remastered 25th anniversary edition out in June via Svart Records In the beginning of the new Millennium, The Flaming Sideburns were getting ready to record our first proper album. First we rented Ismo Alanko’s old rehearsal room in Otaniemi, Espoo, and turned it into a recording facility. Old analog tape recorders, vintage microphones, a Space Echo unit, and other top equipment were brought in directly from Berlin, Germany by the album’s producer, Jürgen Hendlmeier. As producer Jürgen Hendlmeier recalls the final steps of the sessions: “Fact is, when we mastered the record at Seawolf Studios we had no real idea what to do with this equipment. We just wanted to make it louder and louder – that was all we wanted. We wanted to go to twelve instead of eleven.” When Hallelujah Rock’n’Rollah was first released, it did not sound as “natural” as it had originally been planned to be – but the album was a huge success for the band nevertheless. For this remastered edition, Hendlmeier dug deep enough to finally find the files containing all the original mixes. The album’s producer then remastered the album himself, and the end result is far more convincing. Compared to the original version—which is already very good—the album now feels as if it has been completely remixed for the better. As a bonus, on the original album some of the songs were edited shorter, but now all of them appear in their original length. -Eduardo Martinez

The Flaming Sideburns' debut album remastered 25th anniversary edition out in June via Svart Records In the beginning of the new Millennium, The Flaming Sideburns were getting ready to record our first proper album. First we rented Ismo Alanko’s old rehearsal room in Otaniemi, Espoo, and turned it into a recording facility. Old analog tape recorders, vintage microphones, a Space Echo unit, and other top equipment were brought in directly from Berlin, Germany by the album’s producer, Jürgen Hendlmeier. As producer Jürgen Hendlmeier recalls the final steps of the sessions: “Fact is, when we mastered the record at Seawolf Studios we had no real idea what to do with this equipment. We just wanted to make it louder and louder – that was all we wanted. We wanted to go to twelve instead of eleven.” When Hallelujah Rock’n’Rollah was first released, it did not sound as “natural” as it had originally been planned to be – but the album was a huge success for the band nevertheless. For this remastered edition, Hendlmeier dug deep enough to finally find the files containing all the original mixes. The album’s producer then remastered the album himself, and the end result is far more convincing. Compared to the original version—which is already very good—the album now feels as if it has been completely remixed for the better. As a bonus, on the original album some of the songs were edited shorter, but now all of them appear in their original length. -Eduardo Martinez

“Tako” means “octopus”, “kite”, and even “bunion” in Japanese. Bald men or men with shaven heads, as well as red-faced, staggering drunks, are also referred to as “tako”. It’s a word that appears in a lot of slang and sayings. Taco is also the name of an 80s music and performance collective whose performances were like nothing before or since. The Japanese band Taco, formed at the beginning of the 80s, is a loose group/collective of varying members that belongs to the post-punk alternative music movement. The network of members were all friends and acquaintances of Harumi Yamazaki, ex-member of Gaseneta and Taco’s central member.

Taco can be described as a band of guerrillas who, over the years, continued to connect, collect, interrupt, and scatter while sending out into the world music and sounds that can best be described as transient. Taco also performed without Harumi, and so it is as though the band is an anonymous group of mercenaries. Taco’s first album was released in 1983 and had a huge impact on Japan’s underground music scene as an anomalous and collaborative album involving various participating artists (the stars of Japan’s underground music scene!) and Harumi, who provided the lyrics. Although each track represents a reverberating conglomeration of sounds created by this transient local network, common to all the tracks are Harumi’s expressive lyrics. This has the effect of transforming all the tracks into a single powerful force which, in turn, spawns an “incident” which spreads like a giant ripple. However, because of another incident in which the records were recalled due to the scandal caused by some of the lyrics, only a limited number of people actually own a copy of the album. Taco’s second album (a 12” EP), released in 1984, features a live recording of a performance that was held at the end of 1982. Taco is a band of indeterminate members which only ever played one-off performances, but this is an album that reveals a unit whose performance was unusually musically coherent. This is an album which effectively conveys the power of Taco’s astounding and legendary live performances, as well as Harumi’s inflammatory, sensational, and masochistic presence on stage. Her mutterings and screams, which practically ignore the detached beat, confront the audience like an overwhelming groundswell.

The following is a description of Taco by one of its members following one of its live performances: “Taco’s like a project where the indeterminate participants fan each other’s heightened emotions of wanting to wreak personal revenge and retribution. It’s an ecosystem of tangible and intangible mouldy slime which accumulates in order for emotions to be acted out, both indoors in the studio, or outdoors on stage. That’s why the avenger can often end up being the victim.”

Nameless, March 1985

Cloud Management return to Altin Village & Mine for a unique collaboration with New York writer and creative polymath Vivien Goldman.

A pairing spanning generations and geography, but with a musical overlap that is quite fitting in both process and result. Cloud Management’s jammy, improvisational approach to their dubby electronics blends well with Goldman’s idiosyncratic vocal style, which has its origins in the early days of post–punk and UK dub experimentalism. Cloud Management blend many historical aspects of German electronic music into something distinctly their own, while retaining a view well beyond those borders or any particular era. This approach fits well with Goldman’s deep multidisciplinary career, not easily defined because of its eclectic abundance across disciplines, yet always orbiting around music as its foundation.

When it comes down to it, these are great tracks created in the same way they sound: loose but refined, circling and turning inwards and outwards, back onto themselves. A dub of a dub of a dub, but never falling too far from the source — the minimalism necessary to deliver a direct, steady resolve and a gripping listen.

The B–Side of the record features three remixes by artists from across the globe, all with strong connections to the front line of dancehall, dub, and electronic music experimentalism. Longtime Equiknoxx member Time Cow from Kingston (Jamaica), delivers a version of »Quick Cover Up« that represents a major overhaul of the original. This remix strips away much of the looseness of the source material and leans into a lush yet slightly darker atmosphere, created by layered synths and a masterful use of underlying percussion and melodic stabs.

Up next are Twin Cities, Minnesota–based Feel Free Hi Fi, who take on »Judge Judge.« The duo tighten things up, overlaying weighty vintage string synths and digi–flute melodies. This version feels designed for smoky, late–night dub sound system sessions, harkening back to dub’s foundations.

Last but not least is London’s Pat Orburn. Stripped way down, the remix rides an interplay between alternating minimalism and a more lo-fi but lush exuberance, somewhat reminiscent of a bossa nova–esque minimal synth sound. This version’s lo–fi pop sensibility provides a fitting contrast and completes an eclectic yet copacetic trio of remixes for the record.

For its third release, Honey Trap turns toward the instinctual. Ritmo Animal is a record driven by body memory, where rhythm becomes language and movement becomes communion. Vancouver- and Colombian-rooted duo Dosis weave club music with lived histories, drawing from punk ethics, soundsystem culture, and a deep commitment to collaboration.

Formed by Daniel Rincon and Zachary Treble, Dosis operates in the space between structure and looseness, where grooves feel hand-built and edges remain intentionally rough. Across five tracks, Ritmo Animal resists clean categorization. House mutates into dub-soaked psychedelia, vocals surface and dissolve, and percussion swings between discipline and abandon.

The A-side opens with “I Want To Be Your Dog”, a low-slung, hypnotic burner featuring Alien D, setting the tone through repetition and restraint. The title track, “Ritmo Animal,” anchors the record in motion, with saxophone lines from Dave Biddle threading through percussive momentum and grounding the track in something tactile and human.

On the flip, “Malibu” offers a softer pull, with Hannah Acton’s vocals drifting through warm, unhurried rhythm. “Humo,” featuring Hashman Deejay, leans deeper into smoke and sway, while closer “Sancocho” stretches time entirely, favoring communal simmer over destination.

Ritmo Animal is music made for shared space. It is not concerned with polish or purity, but with connection, between scenes, cities, and bodies on a floor. Another chapter in Honey Trap’s ongoing exploration of intimacy, pleasure, and rhythm as refuge.

Carlos Giffoni reconnects with Thurston Moore for two sides of loose-limbed axe noise, oscillator worship and hard-phased, Spacemen 3-style feedback.

Giffoni’s been on a roll recently. Since the No Fun founder returned to the scene with »Vain¡, a genius set of synth mutations that appeared in iDEAL back in 2018, he’s been slowly ramping up the activity, dropping the celestial »Dream Walker« on Stephen O’Malley’s Ideologic Organ in 2024 and following it with »Pendulum«, a bumper compendium of collaborations, just a few weeks back. For those who remember Giffoni’s first trip round the block, he was always able to hold his own chopping it up in person, not just by mail.

Just scrub through his early catalog and you’ll see collabs with Nels Cline and Chris Corsano, Merzbow, Jim O’Rourke and Lasse Marhaug, and of course, Thurston Moore. The two rekindle their thing on »IGUANA’« picking up where 2001’s fabled »4 Guitars Live« performance left off. Here, Giffoni straddles a tabletop synth and FX while Moore attacks his signature Jazzmaster with a drumstick and a screwdriver – vibes fully intact.

Moore is on blistering form, sounding as if he’s taken a step back to refresh his approach since the early ‘00s when he could be spotted moonlighting on any number of basement-adjacent noise sides. Sawing at his strings and turning the guitar into a shrieking resonator, he leaves only faint vapours of the classic Sonic Youth sound as opiating accents on his animalistic wails and rumbles. On the opening half, his whammy – assisted shreds are balanced out by Giffoni’s off-world whirrs and airlocked vibrations, building a dense wall of noise towards an unexpectedly elegiac conclusion. At some point, Giffoni’s rasping churr transforms into a simmering shudder and Moore’s into hymnal drones – squint a bit and you could almost call it pretty.

Of course, they ramp things up on the flip, dissolving the melancholia with smokey white noise and twangy, post-Derek Bailey chimes that Giffoni accompanies with aggy oscillations. Like every great taped noise set, the recording quality is crucial - »IGUANA« was captured from the pit by Guillermo Hernandez Avendano, the dad of Lia Miranda who provides the cover photo. It’s that kinda show.

As collaborative projects often do, 33 has in time found a more fixed form, a kind of structure that turned it from a loose collection of collaborators gravitating around founders Bill John Bultheel and Alexander Iezzi into something resembling more of a traditional band. Not that there is anything conventional in their creative process tho, nor in the music itself… Nontheless Tripolar - their second album and first for Haunter - seems to take them closer to song territory than ever before.

The (progressive) graduation of multi-instrumentalist Cem Dukkha and vocalist/clarinet player Ivan Cheng from collaborators to full-time members has brought 33 to a more refined awareness of their possibilities as a creative unit, although their compositional process has retained a high level of spontaneity and musical madness. Tripolar was in fact assembled by editing hours of improvisation that Bultheel, Iezzi and Dukkah recorded with no specific endgame in mind. The sessions saw them exchange a variety of acoustic, electronic and electric musical instruments: percussions, guitars, strings, piano, hurdy gurdy, synthesizers and even CDJs as a tool of live sampling manipulation.

By molding the pieces into what they are now, the band managed to concoct some beautiful vignettes of contradictory mental and emotional states, as sonically playful as a renaissance fair happening within a broken timestream. Cheng’s lyrical and vocal contributions helped them coalesce even further into proper songs, adding a melodic presence that’s at once seductive and uncanny. But vocal duties are often ceded to guests, namely Danish pop-neoclassicist Astrid Sonne, Kenyan metal guru Lord Spikeheart, Irish goth raconteur Olan Monk and Japanese body-poet Golin.The amount of different sounds arranged into each of the tracks produces a unique sense of awe and bewilderment, a testament to the incredible talent and craft the musicians have employed into putting together such a broad range of influences and approaches into a coherent and extremely effective musical journey.

An equally erratic thematic thread seems to run through all the tracks, one ultimately preoccupied with mental health and its ramifications. Without turning the project into a concept album, 33 and their collaborators have sprinkled it with references to personality disorders and mental conditions that are all too relevant to the contemporary age, reflecting on the lineage of human inner life. A wide display of lyrical and musical tools is employed to explore these themes, ranging from Sonne’s expressionist depiction of ADHD in the opener, to Cheng’s queer-themed reinvention of an Irish murder ballad in closing track ‘Babymusicc’. Tracing lateral trajectories for introspection, Tripolar is not only highly captivating, but it ultimately sounds esoteric in the best possible way: progressively revealing layer after layer of incredible aural magic, its true meaning living in the form and in its manic scope of energies.

In 2017, at Documenta Kassel (but in Athens), I invited José Jiménez Bobote, a remarkable gitano artist from the Tres Mil Viviendas neighbourhood in Seville, to record a series of actions in specific locations in the Greek capital. Ancient Greece and modern Greece. I wanted him to draw sound from the city, to strike it as only a flamenco artist can, with his feet. To hit the ground and make it moan, ring out with noises evoking significant moments in history: from Diogenes the Cynic and the Apostle Paul’s sermon at the Areopagus to Rosa Eskenazi’s resistance to the Nazi-German occupation, and the ups and downs of police Inspector Costas Haritos’s survival at the European Bank during the PIGS crisis. Bobote struck the ground and Athens responded, sending back echoes of the past, in an exceptional anachronistic exercise. In flamenco it is possible for several times to sound simultaneously.

We took seventeen hours of footage, and water from many wells.

I then shut away producer, musician, and friend Raül Refree with this material so that he could take the long titles and use them as scores, turning them into mere songs. It was very important to think in terms of songs. The tracks had to have the capacity to be songs, the kind of thing one whistles while absent-mindedly walking down the street. Generally speaking, the scores—that is, the texts—defended the use and abuse of the loose coins that people carry around in their pockets. Loose change as a kind of everyday fetishism against big financial capital. Pistis! Refree managed to coax that distinctive unity of songs, their bright catchiness, from the amalgamation of sounds that would, in other hands, end up being labelled concrete music. Peter Szendy would be pleased and grateful. Being able to sing under one’s breath something that others consider simply noise.

Seven songs, yes. And if you get the chance, take a stroll through Athens with them: the locations are clearly defined. If not, then let Athens fill your home with all its ancient wisdom, boring into your ears like worms, making holes in history.

Listen, and, as people used to say, turn up the volume!

Pedro G. Romero, Santa Marta, Colombia, November 2025

Comes with booklet with song lyrics written by Pedro G. Romero. Limited edition of 250 vinyl records.

Strong one on Voyage Direct from Rotterdam's Benny Rodrigues...TIP!

The label say "Benny Rodrigues seems to delight in confounding critics. Since making his debut alongside Darko Esser with 2007's Underwater Records-­-released 'Paradox', the Rotterdam-­-based DJ has surprised and excited at every turn.

Variously delivering woozy tech-­-house, rave revivalism, stripped-­-back minimal, jackin' acid, wide-­-eyed deep house and, under his occasional ROD alias, shirts-­-off warehouse techno. Along the way, he's released music on some of Europe's most prestigious labels, including Desolat, Soma, EC Records, Be As One and Wolfskuil Records.

Here, he makes his debut for Tom Trago's Voyage Direct imprint with two undulating, hypnotic, heads-­-down tracks that blur the boundaries between house and techno. Rhythmically loose but impressively tough - like all of Rodrigues' best productions - both cuts are built around mesmerising late night grooves and intoxicating chords.

'Master French' kicks things off, lacing nagging shakers, subtle synth strings and fluttering chords over a robust, shuffling tech-­-house groove. Rodrigues works the mix like a master, bringing elements to the fore before sliding them into the background. It's a simple, heads-­-down, 4am groove, but it's executed brilliantly.

'Z', on the other hand, is an altogether breezier affair, with repetitive, new age-­- inspired synthesizer melodies seemingly drifting over a rock solid house groove. Notable ride cymbals and warm beats proper the track forward, giving it a humid, tropical feel. This is music to move the body, mind and soul. "

The capstone of Miles Davis’ electric period, Agharta reigns as a funk-rock fireball — a blazing comet streaked energy and elan, a fearless organism feasting on adventure and freedom, a seven-headed Godzilla stomping its way through Osaka, Japan. Recorded on February 1, 1975 at Osaka Festival Hall at the first of a two-show stand, the double album offers an endless abundance of surprises and shifts — as well as a road-proven ensemble whose chemistry and abilities equal that of any of Davis’ celebrated bands. If the true measure of jazz is the capacity to adapt to the moment and challenge perception, Agharta is consummate.

Sourced from the original master tapes, housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set of this epic live release presents it in audiophile sound on a domestic pressing for the first time. Offering greater degrees of separation, detail, and richness than the compressed CD editions and more clarity, openness, and presence than older vinyl copies, this version of the 1975 release helps bring the concert stage to your home. Just make sure your turntable and speakers are up to the challenge of Davis and Co.’s explosive performances — and producing the decibels they demand.

Teeming with vibrant colors, tones, and pace, Mobile Fidelity’s reissue captures the hear-it-to-believe-it flow, sweep, and moodiness of the music. Though the group honors looseness and freedom with religious verve, the specificity and scale rendered by this remaster allows you to detect methods behind the alleged madness that are often otherwise harder to discern. This insight extends to the understated changes in volume, harmonics, and phrasings. In many ways, you can listen as Davis himself did that early February evening as he helped coordinate the overall direction and decided on whether to blow his wah-wah-wired trumpet or take a turn on the organ.

Tellingly, Agharta would likely never have been made if not for Davis’ ventures overseas and, specifically, to the Land of the Rising Sun. Having for years faced a backlash on his native soil for his choices to experiment and blow past all known borders, Davis was welcomed with open arms in Japan. The concert documented on Agharta — as well as the day’s later show, captured on the equally exciting Pangea — stemmed from a sold-out three-week tour that would ultimately mark Davis’ final public appearances for years, as he soon settled into semi-retirement and nursed the wounds connected to an unprecedented stretch of restless and relentless output.

For all the band-fueled merit of Agharta — and there’s plenty, given the cast of saxophonist Sonny Fortune, bassist Michael Henderson, drummer Al Foster, percussionist James Mtume, and guitarists Reggie Lucas and Pete Cosey seemingly blasts off to outer space and travels distant galaxies by the time this minimally edited record runs its course — Davis’ own playing often remains overlooked. As critics Richard Cook and Brian Morton observed, it is “often fantastically subtle, creating surges and ebbs in a harmonically static line, allowing him to build huge melismatic variations on a single note.” He attacks like a man on a mission, out to prove naysayers wrong and bent on trailblazing another new path forward. Convention and skeptics be damned.

Noisy and furious, dark and discordant, abstract and off-balance, radical and intense, abrasive and atmospheric, strangely beautiful and hypnotically eccentric: Agharta evades simple description, and refuses to be pinned down in any established category — rock, jazz, punk, ambient, prog, avante-garde, or otherwise. Shot through with trench-deep grooves, screaming riffs, scalding solos, and free-improv leads, its cosmic thrust comes on as the equivalent of an animated pointillist painting comprised of millions of textured dots, dashes, and dabs that hold your attention so raptly you want to revisit the ideas again and again.

Always steps ahead of everyone else, Davis knew what he was doing even when Agharta debuted in Japan before later hitting U.S. markets. Though “Maiysha” and “Theme from Jack Johnson” are identified in the track listing, the record contains a number of uncredited references to other Davis works, including a nod to “So What.” This decision to bypass labels only adds to the art of the reveal — the rare black magic in which Agharta expertly deals.

James Brown wants to know one thing before he and his band begin Sex Machine. “Can I get into the thing, really?,” he asks. His cohorts enthusiastically respond in the affirmative. And for the next hour and change, Mr. Dynamite gets into it and more, turning in a sweat-soaked, feet-moving, hip-swiveling, emotion-purging, in-the-red, drop-everything-you’re-doing-and-dance performance for the ages. Ranked by Rolling Stone among the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, the sweeping 1970 effort towers as a testament to Brown’s inimitable legacy as well as the peak powers of his voice, vibrancy, and bands.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set presents Sex Machine in audiophile sound for the first time. It explodes with the energy the lightning-strike music demands. Dynamic, immediate, present, airy: Everything from the brassiness and fluidity of the horns to the snap and decay of the snare to the swell and carry of the organ comes across in full-range perspective.

Then there’s Brown’s superhuman singing, which here emerges with a purity, naturalism, and transparency that ensure you feel everything. Screeching, shouting, pleading, moaning, preaching, stinging, commanding, testifying, crooning, humming: The Godfather of Soul contributes one of the finest vocal performances known to man. This definitive 55th anniversary reissue of Brown’s monster funk statement further exhibits a combination of clarity, solidity, separation, and imaging that helps bring to light what he and his crack ensembles committed to tape. Both in the studio and on the stage.

Just how lifelike does this reissue sound? Senior Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab engineer Krieg Wunderlich, who handled the remaster, notes: “There were some artifacts that sounded a bit like mistracking. But they turned out to be breath blasts on the vocal microphone. That is part of history. JB was workin' hard, and breathin' hard. And there was an edit the timing of that was truly strange. Again, a part of history.”

Originally marketed as a live album, Sex Machine contains six songs recorded in the studio and later overdubbed with canned crowd noise and reverberation. Save for “Low Down Popcorn,” the tracks on the latter half stem from a phenomenal performance captured in October 1969 at Bell Auditorium in Brown’s adopted hometown of Augusta, GA. The special relationship between the singer, the audience, and the location is palpable.

As the 1960s gave way to a new decade, Brown experienced immense success and dealt with unexpected change. Soul Brother Number One soon expanded his idea for an official live album captured in Augusta when the ensemble that backed him on that date morphed into the original version of the world-famous J.B.’s just months after the show. The virtuosic abilities, sticky chemistry, and rhythm-forward nature of the J.B.’s prompted him to book a one-off session in Cincinnati, OH, on a late July night.

Anchored by brothers William “Bootsy” Collins and Phelps “Catfish” Collins, the group — as well as two different drummers — laid down a nearly 11-minute rendition of “Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” and a thrilling medley of “Bewildered,” “I Got the Feeling,” and “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose.” A pair of then-recent studio singles cut in separate locations in 1969, “Brother Rapp” and “Low Down Popcorn,” each featuring his prior group, took care of the second LP worth of material that complements the originally planned live set.

Complicated? Somewhat. Unusual? Definitely. But just as he elevated the expectations for all present and future R&B artists, Brown not only makes it all work. He makes it positively electrifying.

“Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” is alone deserving of a dissertation on the art of funk music, seeing it moves up and down akin to an oil derrick, witnesses Brown unleashing a trademark series of grunts, squeaks, and “good god” asides, and glides to a hypnotic groove that won’t quit. Or look to the syncopated rhythms of “Brother Rapp (Part I and Part II),” one of multiple pieces here that signify the point where Brown began viewing every instrument as a percussive tool. Brown closes the three-song medley with his new band with a skedaddling “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose,” which provides jolts on the order of sticking your finger into a socket.

Not that the actual live material falls short in any way. Setting an insistent tempo for the vitality that follows, “I Don’t Want Nobody to Give Me Nothing” positions Brown as a role model, leader, and self-sufficient entrepreneur. All simmer and boil, the short and sweet “Licking Stick” dares you to keep pace. The floating, almost comforting “Spinning Wheel” spotlights the instrumental prowess of Maceo Parker and company, and functions as a seamless segue into the tender, horn-saluted “If I Ruled the World.”

And Brown and his mates still aren’t done. Just try to resist the one-two closing punch of “I Can’t Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)” and “Mother Popcorn.” Mercy.

Ain’t it funky? Sure ‘nuff.

FONTINE’s debut full-length Good Buddy arrives October 7, 2025, marking a gritty, heartfelt turn from her folk-leaning EP. Recorded live to tape with her road-tested band, the album captures the loose, unfiltered energy of her live shows, pairing raw instrumentation with FONTINE’s powerhouse vocals and emotionally rich songwriting. It’s a rock record with a sensitive core — scrappy, cathartic, and full of heart. The title track, “Good Buddy,” uses CB radio slang for queer love as a playful, anthemic entry point into a record about identity, connection, and vulnerability. FONTINE, who identifies as Indigenous and queer, brings humour, honesty, and a deep sense of place to her writing. From personal struggle to activist fire, her lyrics are grounded and bold, wrapped in a sound that blurs the lines between alt-rock, Americana, and indie folk. With over a million streams, national CBC radio support, and a growing live presence across Canada, FONTINE is emerging as one of the most vital new voices in Canadian roots music. Her breakout charisma, fearless storytelling, and genre-fluid style make Good Buddy a debut worth turning up loud.

The inimitable Richard Youngs returns to Black Truffle with this third full-length for the label, Hidden. Like CXXI and Modern Sorrow, Hidden unfolds across two side-long pieces at once eminently listenable and possessed of the ‘bloody-minded’ dedication to ‘having an idea and sticking with it’ that Youngs himself has identified as one of the key qualities of his work.

At the core of both pieces are rapid, randomised arpeggios generated with a Moog Grandmother, hypnotic patterns that wouldn’t be out of place on a Berlin School classic. Alongside these arpeggios, across the seventeen minutes of the first side-long piece Youngs builds an airy structure of shakers, synthetic handclaps and a brief, repeated sample, impossible to identify but sounding like a glitched foghorn. Over the top we hear his unmistakable voice, repeating single syllables—Ha, Ho—with a slow delay, something like a lonely one-man-band take on Anthony Moore’s Pieces from the Cloudland Ballroom or a more musical elaboration of the hypnotically overlapping delayed phonemes of Anton Bruhin’s Rotomotor. Like much of Youngs' work, the arrangement of sounds is sparse, each layer punctuated by spaces that allow others to shine through, in a way that seems to have more to do with dub or early hip-hop than high-brow models of musical reductionism.

On the flipside, the arpeggios return, now accompanied by ringing, filtered guitar chords and long flute tones. The use of a similar ground layer across the two pieces with strikingly different overdubs calls up Youngs' first solo record, the classic Advent, reminding us of how consistent ‘theme and variations’ is as an approach in his enormous body of work. Joined by handclaps and a chiming sound, the piece almost feels like it is about to achieve dance-floor lift-off at times, only for the percussion to disappear and leave the listener once again floating among the guitar and flute, now joined by occasional cut-off vocal snippets, like a radio turned quickly on and off. The suspension of these disparate elements over the steady foundation of the Moog arpeggios might remind some listeners of the free-form studio explorations of Moebius & Plank and Holger Czukay or even give a nod to Youngs’ formative encounter with Cabaret Voltaire.

Like some of Youngs’ much-loved work with Simon Wickham-Smith, Hidden approaches relatively familiar sounds and instruments from skewed angles, delighting in loose structures of interaction that border on gleeful incoherence while remaining outwardly beautiful. Coming up to almost four decades of persistent activity, like little else in contemporary music Youngs’ work beams with the simple joys of exploration and experiment.



Two years after making their bow via a fine contribution to the Claremont Editions 3 compilation, Nuremberg’s Neumayer Station are ready to drop their debut full-length excursion, the mesmerising and immersive Crossings.

The brainchild of drummer-turned-producer Michael Kargel, a musician with a bulging CV that includes stints in various German indie-pop and rockabilly bands, Crossings was co-produced and mixed by Frank Mollena (best known to Claremont 56 fans as the man behind the Fürsattl and Bambi Davidson projects), with additional contributions by Alexander Sticht and an impressive roll call of guest musicians plucked from Nuremberg’s vibrant musical underground.

Recorded at different points over the last three years, the eight tracks showcased on Neumayer Station’s inspired debut album draw influence from the hypnotism of classic German ‘kosmische’ recordings, the freewheeling and stoned headiness of CAN, and the gently unfurling beauty of sun soaked Balearica. Kargel, Mollena and their collaborators set the tone with opener ‘Unterführung’, where Sticht’s layered and sonically hazy vocalisations rise above space-rock guitar motifs, droning analogue synth sounds, languid bass and slow-motion drum breaks. With effects aplenty and all manner of melodic electronic flourishes, it’s a deeply psychedelic and mind-expanding affair.

‘Nalut’ follows, with Kargel’s own atmospheric howls and whistles cannily combining with sun-bright tropical guitars, echoing chords and delay-laden saxophone solos riding the dub-flecked, low-slung groove. The collective’s Balearic influences are explored in more sonic detail on ‘A Gentle Flow’, a shuffling and soft-focus affair marked out by emotive piano & jazz guitar, brushed percussion, sunrise-ready synths and pleasingly stretched-out electronic textures. Neumayer Station return to this drifting, morning-fresh and eyes-closed sound later in the LP, via the wonderous ‘Von der Morgenröte’.

The heady influence of spaced-out dub production techniques comes to the fore on ‘Bassrutscher’, an Alexander Sticht co-production rich in Americana-influenced guitar textures, metronomic dub bass, rim-shot heavy drums, mazy organ and orange-hued sundown sounds. It ushers in the more up-tempo shuffle of ‘Zielgerade’, an inner space, out-of-mind affair whose driving but loose-limbed groove provides a platform for exotic, droning and otherworldly guitar, sax and synth sounds. As with all great albums, Crossings gently builds towards a triumphant and memorable conclusion. The spacey Balearic/kosmische crossover of ‘Feeling Forst’, where darting intergalactic synth sounds rub shoulders with gentle acoustic guitars in a hallucinatory soundscape, tees up closing cut ‘Crossings’, the krautrock-rooted, sax-sporting slab of enveloping late-night beauty that first introduced listeners to Neumayer Station back in 2023. It’s a fitting conclusion to a staggeringly good debut album.

funcionário delights in the freedom of creating freeform music for the first time in his career. On “horizonte”, he loosens the reins, his sound follows a wavy, organic structure rather than a rigid, formal one. If it feels freer and more colourful, that’s because it truly is.

Eight years ago, when we first encountered his work, he was composing soundtracks for imaginary video games and crafting sonic landscapes that felt like destinations for sci-fi anime characters. With “Cavalcante” (2022), he broke away from that past. It marked a turning point, he was ready to explore a “fourth world” in both sound and concept. The feedback was overwhelming.

Three years later, “horizonte” marks another evolution. He sends us music regularly, but this album stood out immediately. It felt right: more synth-driven, more open to improvisation. As he put it: “It’s like using oil pastels for the first time and discovering new possibilities. In a way, I’ve found new ways of creating using the same colours.”

Listening to horizonte is like waking up from a dream. Again and again. The opening track, “nascer”, suggests a new dawn, but it’s in “pássaros” that the vision fully takes flight: less processed, more raw, yet still detailed and expansive.

Finding new ways with the same colours has been his quiet mission all along. What’s new here aren't the tools, but the feeling. The movement. The invitation to travel with him. You can hear - and feel - his sense of wonder. Every sound radiates joy. Every moment sparks a new thought. The music moves quickly, but breathes slowly.

Tracks like “renascer” and “o caminho do regresso” echo the spirit of late-70s/early-80s Vangelis, in deep reverence. And just as you approach the end, “fantasma” arrives - a stunning closer, reminiscent of Eno’s “An Ending”. By then, it’s clear: the “fourth world” is behind him. funcionário has moved on. To where? We’re about to discover.

Mark Fell inaugurates his new label – The National Centre for Mark Fell Studies – with his first solo electronic material in years; a slinky, ravishing volley of unique dance drills that have been in the works for over a decade, feeling somehow like Derek Bailey dissecting Singeli, or Autechre and Hermeto Pascoal dancing in hyperspace. There’s nothing else quite like it.

Back on the floor for the first time since dealing a pair of deep house 12”s with DJ Sprinkles, sending a contemporary classic in »Protogravity« with Errorsmith, plus a lauded collab with Gábor Lázár – all in 2015 – Fell taps back into core club concerns last explored to this uncompromising extent on his string of »Sensate Focus« EPs released between 2012–2013. He’s hardly been slacking since then, with a slew of far-reaching avant collabs with everyone from Rian Treanor to Limpe Fuchs, Okkyung Lee to Pat Thomas, Explore Ensemble to Will Guthrie – each one blurring distinctions between producer, composer, and conductor.

The »Nite Closures« EP is worth the wait – and then some. As ever, Fell manages to retain a highly distinctive, instantly identifiable sound while also tracing and mapping new bends in the continuum. His exploration of contemporary styles and patterns is here distilled and articulated with a rare, daring playfulness and sinuous intricacy – for over half an hour he flows from frantic to almost emotional at the drop of a snare. Trust it’s not your everyday / everynight club music, with an asymmetric angularity bound to wrong-foot fresher feet, but also the type of absolutely future-facing, skewed machine funk that clubs are crying out for, even if they don’t quite realise it.

As someone who’s witnessed the dominance of colouring-book Jive Bunny DJs recycle tested ideas ad infinitum, the message is a firm do-one to myopic ravers in »Nite Closures«. From the displaced anticipations tested in its extended dub and ravishing, tweaked polymetrics on its version, through a »Large Modulos #3« teeming with organismic details, to the hair-kissing swang of »auchterhouse (inversion)« and its clipped, cascading 2.1-step reprise, Fell offers thrilling new options for the loosey-gooseyest dancers at each turn. For us, it’s perhaps his greatest record this century.

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by."

"Taking influence from the pioneers of Música Popular Brasileira, Wolfgang Pérez has crafted an exquisite album of summery experimental pop music that encapsulates the beauty and chaos of modern Brazil. A must-listen for fans of Tom Zé, Gilberto Gil, Kiko Dinucci, Negro Leo, Ricardo Dias Gomes, and João Gilberto.

Genre-blending songwriter, arranger, and guitarist Wolfgang Pérez is set to release his highly anticipated new album Só Ouço in July 2025 on Hive Mind. Known for his unique fusion of influences, the German-Spanish artist first captured attention with his 2021 debut WHO CARES WHO CARES (Fun In The Church), followed by the critically acclaimed Spanish-language album AHORA (BAUMUSIK, 2024).

Só Ouço is the fruit of an 18-month creative residency in Rio de Janeiro, where Pérez collaborated with a group of young Brazilian musicians. Deeply inspired by the city's sounds and rhythms, the album marks an exciting chapter in Pérez’s evolving artistic journey.

In 2022, Wolfgang Pérez arrived in Rio de Janeiro on a university exchange to study composition, and quickly found himself immersed in the city’s rich musical landscape. Introduced early on to Rio icons like Thiago Nassif, Arto Lindsay, and Ana Frango Elétrico, what began as a semester turned into a transformative three-semester stay. Pérez absorbed the city's contrasts - it's beauty, its people, it's chaos and violence, all it's contradictions and life - while deeply studying Brazilian music at UFRJ/UNIRIO under the guidance of masters Josimar Carneiro, Marcello Gonçalves and Almir Cortes.

Wolfgang spent the first 6 months or so soaking in as much as possible, going to shows, to the baile funk parties, walking the streets, hiking the mountains in and around Rio, listening to music, making friends, learning where to go and where not to, learning the language, learning the slang, incorporating the culture. He used the time to forget himself in the vibrance of the city.

After this the band came together through a series of chance encounters and happy accidents...some loose jam sessions led to shows around Rio, where Wolfgang, alongside Luis Magalhães (bass), Pedro Fonte (drums) and Paulo Emmery (electric guitar), started to flesh out some of Wolfgang's compositions. At a show at Audio Rebel they met Angelo Wolf (owner of Wolf Estúdio and engineer for artists such as Bala Desejo, Dora Morelenbaum, Zé Ibarra, Marcos Valle, Antonio Neves and Ana Frango Elétrico); moved by the music, Wolf offered Pérez residency and studio time at Wolf Estúdio, providing the foundation for Só Ouço. Angelo was a catalyst for the production of Só Ouço, his openness and generosity helping to shape the sound of the record. Carol Maia, a young guitarist, lyricist and singer brought a sensitivity and tenderness to the songs, while Antonio Neves helped to pull together the brass and woodwind players who would complete the lush sound of the album.

Meticulously arranged, and beautifully composed, Só Ouço is a joy to listen to and surprising at every turn. Classic songwriting and cutting edge production blend to produce an album that is by turns tender and gentle, abrasive and unsettling, a joyful celebration of life in all its complexity."

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by." Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time will be released Friday, October 10th in vinyl, Japanese import CD (via Plancha), and digital editions.

Berlin-Hamburg duo Session Victim return to the ever-reliable Delusions Of Grandeur imprint with Chapter Two of their Sidequests trilogy, marking yet another high point in their almost twenty year journey through heartfelt, sample-rich music. Overflowing with analog warmth, sundrenched textures and irresistible grooves, the release also features a stellar remix from label cofounder and deep house pioneer Jimpster who kicks off the EP. Here he takes Behind The Glass into spaced out house-not-house territory. With crisp drum programming, trademark Rhodes, and subtle pads that build over time, his version delivers that late-night sophistication he's known for—steering the downtempo original in a clubbier direction without losing its blissed-out essence. Up next we have a brand new collaborative effort with long time friend, label mate and fellow sample nerd Nebraska. Make It Happen is a dusty, slo-mo house groove featuring delicate keys, euphoric strings and that unmistakable sense of journey. It’s just the kind of low-slung epic house they do best—intimate yet club-ready, nostalgic but never retro. Flipping over, Too Soft To Be Loud, another collaboration with Viken Arman, follows with a jazzy, almost samba-esque rhythm and swirling atmospherics. Loose percussion, catchy guitar riffs and Rhodes stabs collide with off-kilter dub FX and soft vocal snippets giving the track a laid-back, live-band feel that harks back to their See You When You Get There era. Hubcap Candy dives deep into funk territory. Nebraska’s on point boogie bassline drives the track forward as crunchy drums and layers of synths create a dreamlike haze. It’s loopy, moody, and finds Session Victim at their very best. Closing out the EP we have the original of Behind The Glass, a headsy, beatdown piece that slowly unfolds over an unconventional brass-like bassline and delicate guitar textures, paying homage to the golden age of Trip Hop haziness and it’s pioneer turntable spirit. Blending crate-digging sensibilities with forward-thinking production, this latest release solidifies Session Victim’s reputation as genre-blurring tastemakers, and their chemistry with Delusions Of Grandeur remains as strong as ever

REPRESS of Mephistofeles sophomore album. Mephistofeles is one of the biggest acts of the new Doom Stoner scene from Argentina which has developed its own cult following all around the world. I'm Heroin in its original incarnation of ( ( ( I ' M H E R O I N ) ) ), it conveys the sense of delirium and madness written large across the grooves of this nearly 47-minute work. Indeed, MEPHISTOFELES' second long-player goes all in on getting gone - hypnotic yet loose, jammy yet locked-in, devilishly drugged-out and above all FUN in its freedom. Minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, ad infinitum_being stuck inside I'm Heroin is like being stuck inside a jellied coma you never wanna come out of!

REPRESS of Mephistofeles sophomore album. Mephistofeles is one of the biggest acts of the new Doom Stoner scene from Argentina which has developed its own cult following all around the world. I'm Heroin in its original incarnation of ( ( ( I ' M H E R O I N ) ) ), it conveys the sense of delirium and madness written large across the grooves of this nearly 47-minute work. Indeed, MEPHISTOFELES' second long-player goes all in on getting gone - hypnotic yet loose, jammy yet locked-in, devilishly drugged-out and above all FUN in its freedom. Minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, ad infinitum_being stuck inside I'm Heroin is like being stuck inside a jellied coma you never wanna come out of!

Shhh. The command to be quiet is not just part of the title of one of the two sprawling compositions on this pioneering album. It's also an apt metaphor for the relaxed hypnotism and spaced-out atmosphere that define In a Silent Way, a record that pushes the boundaries of studio possibilities, artist-producer relationships, and rock-jazz chasms. Recognized as Miles Davis' first full-on fusion effort and part of his "electric" era, the 1969 landmark claims a Who's Who line-up that sends the music into an ethereal stratosphere.

Mastered from the original master tapes and pressed at RTI, this unsurpassed 180g LP edition lifts the veil on the cutting-edge assembly process that created the pair of lengthy suites. Helmed by three electric instruments, the bevelled compositions melt away all preconceived notions of "jazz," ˜rock," and "ambience," following a loose theory Davis dubbed "New Directions."

Few albums are so delicately textured. And on Mobile Fidelity's meticulous reissue, such sulcate elements pour over ink-black backgrounds on a canyon-wide soundstage. In particular, Tony Williams' inventive percussive touch – he causes the cymbals to shimmer as a pieces of silver tend to do when exposed to sunlight – is broadcast with lifelike three-dimensional qualities, the panoramic view extending to Davis' nocturnal trumpet, Wayne Shorter's ribbon-unfurling saxophone, Dave Holland's extrapolative bass, and the mosaic of keys.

If the record's only accomplishment is its introduction of guitarist John McLaughlin to the world, it alone would be enough. Yet In a Silent Way continues to bedazzle, puzzle, and inspire for myriad reasons – not the least of which is the seemingly telepathic communicative methods employed by the group's members. The line-up is great on paper, but, if it's even possible, the octet sounds even better in practice, with the instruments and tonalities conjoining in avant-garde communion like hyper-sensitive tentacles exploring the stippled landscapes of an undiscovered planet.

Diverting from expectation, tubular grooves twist, turn, and spin, sometimes piling atop of each other, always shying away from structure and melody. Ellipsoidal solos provide hesitant guidance, ranging from Chick Corea's Fender Rhodes phrases to Davis' decorative spirals. And as colour is the primary unit of currency on Davis' Sketches of Spain, laid-back episodes, geometric spaces, and quiet sensuality reign here, with the set's maverick reputation attained via musings on solitude rather than explosions of noise.


Controversial for the period, the heavily edited production of In a Silent Way blew open the once-locked doors on what producer's could attempt – and how artists could assist them. Knitted together as one would construct a cross-hatched quilt, songs contain grafts of repeat passages that provide unifying structure and experimental continuity. What a statement.

Give It Up Or Turnit a Loose (Edit) by James Brown b/w Web (Edit) by Hampton Hughes / Give It Up or Turnit a Loose (Bonus Breaks) by James Brown| Galaxy Sound Company — GSC45-044, test pressing | The long-running @galaxy_sound_company imprint has been responsible for some superb re-edits over the years, most of which are pleasingly purist in tone — meaning they are pro rearrangements with no added effects but & needless new beats or cheap trickery like so many out there— making any of their releases cop-on-site. & as you can hear from the test pressing, the 44th in the stellar series delivers yet again.

Side A is a masterclass in breakbeat editing of a b-boy classic sample source. Yes, there are many killer JB edits out in the universe, but when you see that the legendary Black Cash & Theo AKA Thelonious Beats take a turn, you know you gotta cop this mutha on site. Here the edit master bravely returns to one of the main sources of the dawn of hip-hop — JB’s comp “In The Jungle Groove” which was released in 1986 to capitalize on it’s popularity in the genre at the time. The comp is named for a breakdown section that appears in “Give It Up Or Turnit a Loose” which is the workout we have here. JB quiets the band down to handclaps, footstomps & congas played by Johnny Griggs. After he raps a little, JB cues legendary drummer Clyde Stubblefield back in, followed by bassist Bootsy Collins & the rest of the band. JB wasn’t intentionally trying to create a perfect batch of hip-hop samples in the late 60s & early 70s, but he couldn’t have succeeded any better if he had been. This edit may enter well-worn territory but he uniquely delivers an edit that showcases why it inspired so many & still delivers the goods to help you get your party started off right & quickly.

Next up on the flipside we are treated to an edit of “Web” by Hampton Hughes, from his 1974 David Axelrod produced & arranged album “Northern Windows”. Heads will recall it as the core sample for “Off the Record” by Hieroglyphics, from the 1998 LP “3rd Eye Vision”. This jazz-funk burner features a stellar line-up:
Piano/keyboards = Hawes
Trumpet = Allen DeRienzo, Snooky Young
Trombone = George Bohanon
Sax/flute = Jackie Kelso, Jay Migliori, William Green
Electric Bass = Carol Kaye
Drums = Spider Webb

But wait, GSC ain’t done yet! We get some bonus beats from the A-side. Another reason why doubles are highly recommended when you need assistance in your set.

On the cover of 8 Tips for Full Catastrophe Living, the new album by Asher White, The Statue of Liberty is in pieces but not destroyed - in progress, being built, not yet complete. Her torch is on the ground, her head somewhere out of frame. Before she was a symbol, she was metal, and living, sweating people riveted her together. The spirit of de/construction characterizes 8 Tips, White's 16th LP overall and first since signing to Joyful Noise. Like White's previous albums, 8 Tips for Full Catastrophe Living darts boldly among varied musical styles. Doom metal splits open into bossa nova; psychedelic rock and power pop flip into industrial techno. Each song emerges from its composite parts in the studio: White doesn't draft or demo before recording, but builds out her pieces sculpturally, sound by sound. "It's forever collage, forever assemblage," she says of her music. "To me, it has more to do with J Dilla, L.A. beat, and musique concrète than pop songwriting." The record's quick turns and vivid contrasts reflect White's cultural voraciousness. A writer, painter, and sculptor as well as a musician, she gathers materials constantly, always digging for new ideas in every possible form. The films of Claire Denis, the novels of Clarice Lispector, and the memoirs of Eve Babitz all funnel into White's reflection of 21st century disaster capitalism. 8 Tips is also White's first album to have been mixed outside her Providence studio; after recording it herself, she brought tracks to Seth Manchester (Lightning Bolt, Battles, The Body) who gave the album its brawny, unruly charge. "I was interested in making something that serves dually as a self-help book and a chronicle of self-destruction," says White. Overlaying autobiography onto character vignettes, 8 Tips for Full Catastrophe Living wrenches open the idea of apocalypse - an abrupt disaster rained down on uncomplicated innocents - and peers inside at its bursting, devastated particulars. Apocalypse is slow and uneven. Nations falter as do individual people, clinging fast to their old, dilapidated self-preservation strategies. What saved you in the past might destroy you in the future. Flip it around, shake yourself loose, ruin the person you've known yourself to be, and you might get the chance to become something else. "There have been so many end times, many other apocalypses." White says. "People were writing self-help tips, and people were partying." We have survived catastrophe before. Out of the ruins, people made work - art, books, culture. "I was interested in making something that sounds like a self-help book, but it's actually about self-destruction," says White. "In full catastrophe living, you just have to do a bunch of whippets. This album is mostly about doing whippets. I'm not even kidding."