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G.Teixeira is an artist based in France and someone with a multi-faceted sound. His Almost Silent alias now turns out Undisclosed Fields Vol.1, a first release on Healing Sound Propagandist that takes the form of eight movements and six reworks. It's as dense as ambient gets, frankly, with heartbreaking melodies passing by and disappearing before your ears. Fizzing synth drones are layered up over crepuscular chords and the whole thing has you gazing off into the distance, your eyes glazing over as you happily get absorbed in the subtly shifting sounds, tones and timbres. This, then, is another high class album from both artist and label.

After 3 LP (MEUH! à la petite cuiller and VU A LA TÉLÉ), INTERIM comes back with TRASH, a 4th beautiful blue vinyl LP with electro pop and dub dancing sounds. Electronics and weirdness of all kinds are once again the signature of the duo.


Agnès Rougier (bass, melodica, electronics, lyrics) and Michel Bazieu (electronics, lyrics) hijack words to play with reality and have fun making the machines sing. Lizard men and climate change (Lizard Man), the French state and chlordecone (CLD Banana Dub), the Trump’s space force (Space force Dub), the Chinese social tyranny (Social Control) or Facebook (Up Sugar Mountain): the 9 tracks of TRASH humorously describe the social and political tragedies and excesses of today’s world.


Recorded and mixed by INTERIM. Mastering by Pete Maher. On the cover, an original drawing by Arthur Junier. TRASH is produced by the label MEUH! Productions.

Formed in 2016 by transatlantic buds Nick Mitchell Maiato and James
Toth, One Eleven Heavy is a band designed as a Venn diagram of the
pair's shared musical loves Crazy Horse, Grateful Dead, and Dylan come to the fore when listening to their joyful third album, Poolside, but the influences go much deeper.

Toth says, We were lucky to have our touring drummer, Jake Morris (Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks) at the ready to play drums. Nick's pal, the fantastic Guy Fowler, plays bass on the record.

Guided by mysterious producer Colin Sick, One Eleven Heavy spent
a year writing and recording the tracks that form Poolside, an album that feels like a gothic western romp through cartoon dreams of escaped criminal ciphers ( Tyrant King ), rebound coke binge recollections ( Rizzo In The Wig ), and tales of sasquatches crossing state lines ( Bama Yeti ).

*MILKY CLEAR VINYL - 300 COPIES ONLY FOR WORLD!!* Technology + Teamwork’s fizzling synths, interweaving textures and punchy rhythms are beguiling on their long-awaited debut album We Used To Be Friends. However, at the heart of it all it’s the connection between the group’s two members, Anthony Silvester and Sarah Jones, the friendship the much-travelled duo have managed to maintain for nearly 15 years and a showcase of the slow-burning construction of the electronic world that they’ve surrounded themselves with. We Used To Be Friends is ultimately the tale of two storied artists in their own right, holding onto each other through personal and career twists and turns, relocations and broader movements through respective phases of their lives. Silvester and Jones first met and then collaborated as part of biting post-punk five-piece XX Teens in 2008, eventually breaking off to forge their own path together even as the latter’s demand as a drummer grew. Performing with everyone from Hot Chip, Harry Styles and Bloc Party among many others, Jones has been a constant percussive presence across the sphere of alternative UK pop music – she’s also found time for her own solo project Pillow Person and played on records by the likes of Puscifer and Kurt Vile. Silvester meanwhile has performed in art galleries across Europe including: Fridericianum in Kassel, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, and Vleeshal in Middelburg, as well as providing sound design and composing work for several art films. Technology + Teamwork is the constant throughout all of that though. “Technology + Teamwork's name perfectly describes how we work” Silvester explains. “Sometimes the teamwork is between each other and sometimes it’s between us and the technology.” Although going by the name Technology + Teamwork as far back as 2014, two events conspired that pulled the project into focus for the pair of them: firstly, Silvester spent a year constructing a soundproof studio shed on the border of London and Essex where he lives. Secondly, inevitably, the pandemic brought the globe-trotting Jones back home to just seven miles away from her long-time collaborator and friend. “We probably hung out more than we had for a few years” says Silvester. “Also, after all her Pillow Person releases Sarah had gotten really good with recording vocals and knowing what did and didn’t work and had a really good home studio set up. We still worked separately though, exchanging ideas via email and WhatsApp.” As with many artists through 2020 and early 2021, working separately was a new necessity that they were forced to adapt to. However, it became clear that there were creative benefits to it. “It really changed our sound and our sounds became a lot more focused as a result” Jones says. “I wanted to use the same ideas of improvisation that I might use while playing the drums for myself and apply that to melodies and lyrics.” The album bristles with hyperpop modernity. You can hear it in the manipulated vocals most prominently on Big Blue’s disco strut and on Moving Too’s heady mix of pitched up voice and burrowing sub bass. However, the pair also looked to San Francisco and the West Coast synthesis movement of the 60s, Silvester inspired by the likes of Suzanne Ciani and Don Buchla. The plaintive lo-fi and melancholy of Amsterdam incorporates Mutable Instrument’s Marbles by Émilie Gillet which – inspired by Buchla’s own synthesis work – outputs random voltages to give the track an air of unpredictability. It’s something that occurs throughout the album, the duo revelling in the happy accidents that disrupt the flow of their hook-laden pop. “The ‘Buchlian’ ideas of music having randomness and uncertainty, completely freed us up” Silvester explains. “It felt a bit like having more members in the band, machines that didn't do what you expected or intended.” Perhaps more subtly, is the influence of 17th and 18th century Baroque music, with Silvester drawing a line between it and the 90’s R’n’B he and Jones both love – exemplified perhaps best on K+B’s percussive claps and sultry grooves. The portentous juddering synthpop of the title track, meanwhile, alludes specifically to Handel’s Sarabande. It’s typical of an album that only needs a scratch of its seemingly glossy surface to unearth a myriad of contorted touchstones and reference points that’ve fermented beneath it. Thematically there’s an anxious sense to the record, with tracks often balancing above a quiet sense of unerring tension even at their most bombastic. Moving Too is the result of an existential doubt that hit Silvester while out cycling, with the outro refrain "it's not enough to die you also have to be forgotten" a take on something Samuel Beckett once said. These worries are echoed on the album’s closing track What A Year, which borrows a lot of lines from the late drag performer and fashion designer Dorian Corey including the grimly defiant "you're gonna leave your mark somewhere in this world just by getting through it”. Those clouds offer a counter point to We Used To Be Friends, but then isn’t that what great pop albums do? Technology + Teamwork undoubtedly love the craft of the hook and the song, but they always position themselves left of centre, prepared to scuff things up, pull something out of shape or manipulate something to leave it sounding warped. Much like their friendship, nothing here is particularly linear – and it’s all the better for it. Bio: Anthony Silvester & Sarah Jones first collaborated as part of biting post-punk five piece XX Teens in 2008, eventually breaking off to forge their own path together even as the latter's demand as a drummer grew. Performing with everyone from Hot Chip, Bat for Lashes, Harry Styles and Bloc Party (among many others), Jones has been a constant percussive presence across the sphere of alternative UK pop music - she's also found time for her own solo project Pillow Person and played on records by the likes of Puscifer and Kurt Vile. Silvester meanwhile has performed in art galleries across Europe including Fridericianum in Kassel, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, and Wleeshal in Middelburg, as well as providing sound design and composing work for several art films. Technology & Teamwork is the constant throughout all of that though. "We Used To Be Friends" proves that Technology & Teamwork undoubtedly love the craft of the hook and the song, but they always position themselves left of centre, prepared to scuff things up, pull something out of shape or manipulate something to leave it sounding warped. Much like their friendship, nothing hear is particularly linear - and it's all the better for it.

In the early 1990s, a handful of black metal artists were enticed by the possibility of conjuring new fantastical worlds from the deep isolation of their home setups. Rather than the dense metal sound of their existing projects, this new direction would be centred around intimate synth soundscapes: forlorn organs and otherworldly MIDI theatrics.

The music on ASCEND is predominantly from self-produced, self-distributed releases, typically manufactured in small numbers. Though some artists producing this style of music, most notably Mortiis and Burzum, gained wider recognition outside underground circles, it is only in recent years that the sound and its influence has really been appreciated. This is particularly the case with the late Matthew Davis and his recently reappraised Secret Stairways project, whose song ‘Lammas Tide’ (from the 1997 Enchantment of the Ring album) appears on ASCEND. A simple home recording on a Yamaha KX-W392 manages to be both elegant and tortured, ambiguously devotional and recalling latter years Popol Vuh.

This battle between dark and light is a constant thread through ASCEND, with simple minimal synth lines that can be both delicate and menacing. Compilation opener ‘The Dark Dreamquest’ from Italian black metal group Evol is loaded with occult warning, and Finnish act Kadotus 609’s ‘The Summoning Through Crimson’ is languid, twisted and dark. In spite of the darkness, several pieces of the music on ASCEND have formal similarities with the sometimes saccharine new age music that rose to prominence in that era: but to a rougher, darker ends. The closing song from Darkthrone icon (and past NTS radio host) Fenriz, under his Neptune Towers pseudonym, pulls us further out, with ‘To Cold Void Desolation’ — an astral synth project, akin to ’70s kosmische muzik masters Harmonia.

The gentler side can often amplify an uncannily sinister edge, heard in German act Dolch’s ‘Tumulus’, where orc marching horns contrast against delicate rompler harps and softly whispered chanting. It hammers home a deep loneliness and detachment constant throughout ASCEND, made possible by these unusual contrasts, both unsettling and otherworldly.

Fresh from DOTT’s “Puppy Luv EP” and Rudoh’s “Vinland In Space EP”, Jugaar Records is back and this time with a full-length, double-pack vinyl, and digital compilation bringing together friends from Asia and Europe. The record is testament to the healthy place the Asian electronic music landscape finds itself in and those intrepid producers who are willing to explore new scenes and sounds. It's energy-crew from the off - with UK beatmaker Joe Koshin’s “Astro Wax”, a techy electro work-out that conjures images of futuristic cityscapes and dense urban mazes. Up next, Pakistan-born and label co-boss Rudoh maintains the electro vibe with cut-up hip-hop vocals sprinkled on top of a pulsating bassline in his “KOF”. His records are being picked up by global tastemakers from Emerald to Roza Terenzi to DJ Masda. Don’t sleep!

Moving to the B-side, German-born, London mainstay Voigtmann shuffles and deals a steppy drum pattern and intricate synth-work, with a bassline drenched in that particular brand of funk to get the party going even at the most ungodly hour. Observatory resident Nic Ford closes this disk with an ambient excursion that summons spiritual rave voices from the deep laid atop a lilting synth loop. It’s typical of his ambient performances which have gained much notoriety in Vietnam of late.

Opening the second record is Egyptian gem Hassan Abou Alam whose recent outings on Naïve and Banoffee Pies have gained him much and well-deserved attention. Here, his “Gloom” combines twinkling IDM modes with heavy sub bass experiments primed to stop the most idiosyncratic dancefloors in their tracks. Up on C2, the Version, 3024 and Phonica Records graduate Yak adds breaks to the equation. His “Disk Full” brings together a haunting gated synth and razor-sharp beat programming to devastating effect. Melbourne based, Salt Mines Records honcho Shedbug concludes this side with his hopeful “A Lil Piece” whose soaring synth line will hit all the right emotional chords at all the right times.

On the final side Bangkokian Chalo reminds us why he is one of the masters of this increasingly fully formed scene. His Depth Charge is a muggy dub-laden, electro jam capable of rattling the weightiest sound systems in some of the most twisted raves at the end of some of the darkest Sois. The record is completed by New Delhi linchpin and Boxout.fm resident Monophonik, whose techno/electro “Tumbi” journeys out of the night into a euphoric sunrise moment that will be setting the dancefloors alight come festival season.

You Can Can is an echoed affirmation, an album which traces song forms around silence, field recordings, and degraded analog memories. This is folk music transmogrified and mutated, as if recorded and reconstructed in Pierre Schaffer’s GRM studio.

Not your typical Mariposa folk duo, the group is comprised of Toronto avant-music scene stalwarts, vocalist Felicity Williams (Bernice, Bahamas) and bricolage artist and synthesist Andrew Zukerman (Fleshtone Aura, Badge Epoch). The album feels like a somnambulant conversation, fragmented and half-remembered with Williams’ vocals traveling through a landscape of field recordings and Zukerman’s saturated concrète topographies. It is an electro-acoustic assemblage, both analog and digital, comprised of air, electricity, minerals, wood, and water. Although the album nods towards traditional forms of folk and musique concrète (if at this point it can be called a traditional form), it is outwardly and inwardly contemporary; non-linear, citational, opaque, and sui generis. In a way it feels like a sonic index of the narrative experiments found on the infamous Language school-related publisher The Figures, in the work of Lyn Hejinian, Clark Coolidge, and Lydia Davis. In the musical continuum, the album picks up where Linda Perhacs left off in the early 70’s—explored by Gastr Del Sol in the ‘90s—a convergence of rural acoustic idioms and urban avant-electronics. This is country music for the discerning cosmopolitan citizen of the 21st Century.

RIYL: Luc Ferrari, Brannten Schnüre, William Basinski, Oval, Eric Chenaux, Emmanuelle Parrenin About Everything In Time and Failure Figures, Felicity Williams says:

Everything In Time is indebted to the language of Brazilian author Clarice Lispector (as translated by Alison Entrekin). Drawing on insights from psychoanalysis, we trace the roots of melancholy to render them available to consciousness; words from the ghostly realm of the transpersonal filter through dreams and shine a beam of light onto a lone trillium in a forest at night. Other influences include the experience of not knowing, of being subject to a gestation outside of one’s control. This is an ode to the power of naming to obliterate, to set free.

Failure Figures is a meditation on the radical contingency of reality and the vicissitudes of the will. With Slavoj Zizek as my guide (think: “Hegel for dummies” - I’m the dummy in this scenario), I wander through the valley of the shadow of death, and take heart. The last verse refers to an experience I had recording at a studio in Brussels. I was singing in French, with which I have some fluency, and the producer was complaining to the artist whose song it was that my delivery was not convincing. Thinking I was out of ear shot, he said in French, “c’est comme elle n'est pas là”; I was pronouncing the words correctly, but I failed to express anything. So what or whom is responsible for conveying meaning, if not the form of the word itself? And if the connection between meaning and form is broken, how do we fix it?

Gratitude to Thom Gill (guitar) and Daniel Fortin (bass) who joined us on the recording of Failure Figures. Thanks as well to my old roommate Christopher Willes, who unwittingly left behind his hand bells deep in the hall closet. We unearthed them by accident, and the bells became an important sound element. Thanks to other past roomies Robin Dann and Claire Harvie, whose childhood piano and guitar respectively still reside with us, and were used in the recording. Field recordings were made in Toronto, Canada and Celestún, Mexico in 2020.

ENARCHY is the debut album by Leipzig-based producer and singer Maria die Ruhe. It is the result of a deep and thorough look the
artist took into both her own inner workings and the world around her. In 14 tracks, she explores different types of energy,
oscillating between head and heart. Final destination of this sometimes painful process of self- exploration is the embodiment of
her own power and creativity; the realization, that she manifests her role as catalyst, healer, and fighter for freedom and equality
by reporting on her experiences. These songs are about nothing less than that. And you can also dance to them.
In a musical sense, Maria surpasses herself compared to previous releases. She is bolder, more explorative and dissolves genre
boundaries. Acoustic instruments like the cello and the piano unite playfully with electronic beats. Her expressive voice speaks and
sings from the lowest lows to the loftiest heights. Her self-disclosing lyrics communicate the deepest messages of the soul. One can
tell right away: something is at stake here, this is about a real human living through something real, and now reporting from the
front lines of the human experience.
With lines like „Things are changing all the fucking time“ (ENARCHY) she posts a reminder for the current zeitgeist and the resulting
global uncertainty. „Some things need to be destroyed before they can heal“ is a demand for openness towards change, even if it is
challenging, requires energy, and leaves behind some scars.
In ART IS THE ONLY REAL TRANSLATION OF LIVING FOR ME, Maria uses sentences like „I’ve been trying to please you, I got headaches
and I still don’t fit“ to express her desperation with existing structures of injustice and the lack of livability of the artist lifestyle.
„Ah, you’re an artist - and what do you do professionally?“ Everyone loves music and art! When, o when, will the understanding
follow that there need to be people who make this art as a central part of their lives?
Frustration takes turns with hope and a growing acceptance of the self. In EQUALISTA, Maria discusses antiquated conditions like the
inequality between the sexes in a kind of manifesto, with a simple proposal for solution: „Let’s both be selfish and raise our
energies, to create a whole world with all the things we need.“
In WE BELONG TO NEVER, Maria sings about the everyday horror of toxic relationships. Lines like „Disengagement and rage, I’ve become such a slave.“ express the despair of the emptiness that results from a lack of affection. She also describes treacherous
narcissistic manipulation: „You cut me small just to feel tall.“
In SKIN, she confesses: „I’m not as enough as everyone else.“ and describes the long and painful way from rejecting her own body
to loving herself unconditionally. „I hate what I feel, while I pretend to be free“ means she doesn’t want to be reduced down to
her body, doesn’t want to be seen as an instagrammable, thoroughly designed product; she wants to be acknowledged as an
individual.
In LOST, she poses a question that many are currently forced to ask themselves: „What do we do with all this solitude?“ Maybe
making use of the reclusion by exploring the shadow self. „Can you cope with the truth?“
The conclusion: energy is being freed up through the means of self-experience and living through the personal darkness -
ENARCHY. The realization: every human being is self-determined and should simply do what they feel. It is everyone’s right to
choose their own life’s path. Here, intuition serves as a signpost. This is both feminine and strong.
ENARCHY celebrates an embodied anarchy by working through the personal shadow and the genuine, healthy integration of the
struggle survived - not as a destructive rebellion, but as a testament of shameless, joyful self-empowerment.
„In the end, I want to be alive, because in reality, I’m free.“

SMK aka South Memphis King is one of the real godfathers of Memphis rap. He released his first album in 1991 and is still active today. This is one of his early recordings, never released on vinyl before, Straight bangin' underground shit for the streets of your city. Roll a blunt and enjoy the sick madness over here.