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If there was ever a dance oddity it’s the bizarrely named single ‘Prisencólinensináinciúsol’, released in late 1972 by Italian entertainment icon Adriano Celentano, first appearing as a 45 on his own Clan label. A cult favourite if there ever was one, GW Edits kicks off their label with a sumptuous edit sewing the A and B side of the record into an 11-minute masterpiece named ‘Adriano Italiano’.

Renamed ‘The Language Of Love (Prisencol…)’ for the UK market, the original failed to make any impression on the UK chart instead becoming a cult DJ treasure. The fact that it was regularly reissued over the next few years illustrates its enduring appeal.

The novelty of its title and zany nonsensical lyrics may have caught the attention, but what sealed the deal was that groove! On top of that, Celentano’s vocal (as well as that of his wife Claudia Mori, who injected the short female section) that mimics the way English sounded to non-English speakers, comes across nowadays as proto-rap, receiving kudos as such in more recent times. The track is most certainly an anomaly, having no bearing whatsoever on hip-hop culture, yet somehow unconsciously envisaging it.

The flip side of the record was appropriately called ‘Disc Jockey’, also featured that infectious rolling groove complete with offbeat hat. It wasn’t as DJ friendly though, the drums not dropping for the first minute, whilst it also featured a more traditional sounding song in Celentano’s native tongue instead of the rhythmic rap gobbledygook of ‘Prisencólinensináinciúsol’.

Here the two are sewn together for a full-length ‘Adriano Italiano’, running at just over 11 minutes, with the addition of a further two-minute instrumental version. The full-length appears on vinyl for the first time and, along with the original ‘Adriano Italiano’, launches the GW Edits series, bringing this eccentric favourite to a new generation of DJs in time for its 50th anniversary next year.

"I am sitting in a garden, I haven't left the property in weeks, someone is dropping off food once a week. I haven't seen a human being in ages, I feel like a reverse Schroedinger cat - do I exist when nobody sees me? I must be somewhere in France but I don't remember. I have lost my consciousness again. When I wake up I hear a broken record looping somewhere in the mansion. A washed-out opera. Behind the trees I see the dilapidated hermaphrodite sculpture in a field of verdant nettles and fern. I hear gunshots far afield, aeroplanes in the sky, sirens on the main road.
When unconscious I dreamt of sitting on the Concorde observing the scarab blue ocean and iridescent clouds from above, an erstwhile receding memory. Sometimes I hear the organ of the nearby Renaissance Cathedral merging with the Russian Church bells.
I am hallucinating again. Someone's humming in the kitchen? Singing? A Radio? I overhear two young women talking about art galleries in the neighbour's garden. Bees attack, again…..again and again. The hairspray finally intoxicates them. An amphoric japanese voice is whispering in my head saying I will die soon. Someone (something?) bangs on the vases. The fountain's water turns dark red.
Fleur calls and says mum died. The funeral will be televised on tuesday. We opt for the synthetic choir for the service. The call is suddenly interrupted. Mold is slowly taking over the house.
I go back inside."

Une Fille Pétrifiée is the debut album of new Black To Comm related entity Mouchoir Ètanche (after one recent 12" on Richter's own Dekorder label). Combining real and fake acoustic instrumentation, sampling, field recordings and excessive yet inaudible post production this is another sublime and ethereal statement. Influences are ranging from (French) Classical & Opera to the anecdotical compositions of Luc Ferrari, Chinese Opera, Chanson, Sacred Music / Church Music, JG Ballard and Surrealism.

Marc Richter records as Black To Comm for Thrill Jockey, Type and Dekorder and as Jemh Circs for his own Cellule 75 imprint. He also produces soundtracks and acousmatic multichannel installations for institutions such as INA GRM Paris, ZKM Karlsruhe and Kunstverein Hamburg.

Hidden in a world of anonymity we are craving for intimacy.

AI. The second output in the MAT editions series on CLIKNO is a double 12" separated into "Anonymity" and "Intimacy". The digital world and social media in particular change our perception and behavior; our values and morals undergo a transformation and
shift. How much are we still anonymous? How much are we still intimate (with us/with others)? What does anonymity and intimacy mean to us today?

MUSIC. Dr.Nojoke shows on AI his deeper, darker and trippier side.

A. Petar Plet Plete is a Bulgarian tongue twister sung by anonymous voices, which hypnotize through endless repetitions over a straight Maurizio-esque groove with odd melodic percussion. Nivin grooves elegantly with typical Dr.Nojoke clicks and sophisticated loops of a mysterious female voice reminding slightly to Kraftwerk's Man-machine era.

I. EOW and Nuknot are both intimate orgies of thick textures of reverberations and reflections as if space is folding in itself and time is on hold. EOW seduces with a heavy kick-drum groove and a triplet bassline underneath crawling through unconscious memories. Woe! Nuknot is carried by transcending atmospheres, a dubby low end bassline and a repetitious glassy sound, that can drive a crowd into madness - inspired by Moritz von Oswald and Deadbeat. Nuknot ends with an ambient lock groove.

ART. CLIKNO curates artworks from living artists. On MAT ed.02 CLIKNO is proud to present digital artist Lucas Gutierrez and his work "Your Mesh.sgl", originally part of the exhibition - Knowledge Of - at Aperto Raum Berlin, 2017. An exhibition and dialogue exploring the term "knowledge" and the manner in which self-studies are structured within contemporary artistic approach.

TEXT. MAT02 comes with writings to anonymity and intimacy from the Danish philosopher, actress and choreographer Marianne Kjaer Klausen.

The album celebrates also the 15th CLIKNOversary of Dr.Nojoke.

talo-Iranian producer Sciahriar Tavakoli, commonly known as Sciahri, after releasing on renowned label as Ilian Tape, Mord, Opal Tapes/Black Opal and MANHIGH finally presents his first long playing record “Double-Edged”, and he does it on his own imprint, Sublunar Records.

The LP is an extended, carefully compiled exploration of the many facets of his signature sound, where emotional melodies collide with dense and rasping basslines.

The artist aims to express emotions with unsettling simplicity, showcasing techno compositions that are both thoughtful and primal.

Within the space of ten tracks, Sciahri’s sound design reveals his structure, pushing the listener through a labyrinth of textures and rhythms.

Magyar Posse’s third album Random Avenger out on vinyl for the first time ever in July via Svart Records Looking back, it was the golden age of Magyar Posse. The album Kings of Time had received a tremendous response from both critics and music lovers. The band was touring intensely in Finland and abroad. By now, the band was a well-oiled machine, ready to capture the successor to their celebrated second album. The band decided to follow a different path compared to the creation of Kings of Time: they would record their third album alongside the well-known, slightly eccentric engineer and producer Jani Viitanen. The recognizable Magyar Posse style was present in the pieces of Random Avenger, but something was slightly different. The new music was more rhythm-based, more riff-based and in places more joyous than the dynamic minor key avalanche of Kings of Time. Consciously or unconsciously, the band members saw that they had travelled the Slavic melancholy road as far as possible with the previous album. The success of Kings of Time felt like a positive push, not an extra pressure on their shoulders. It was only natural to strike again while the iron was hot. Many of the pieces had been already developed by the time Kings of Time was released, which eased the production of Random Avenger. After the meticulous but relatively swift mixing and mastering process, the band members were satisfied with the result. The only component that made some of them blush was the cover art – graphic designer Tom Backström had glaringly used photos of empty stages in forgotten community centres and the like. The beauty or the ugliness is once again in the eye of the beholder. Right after its release, Random Avenger got a very positive response, but not as overwhelming as Kings of Time – which was to be expected, as the previous Magyar Posse album had probably been the most universally praised Finnish album of the whole decade. Mikko Elo, musician / journalist, Pori, Finland, March 1st 2026

Magyar Posse’s third album Random Avenger out on vinyl for the first time ever in July via Svart Records Looking back, it was the golden age of Magyar Posse. The album Kings of Time had received a tremendous response from both critics and music lovers. The band was touring intensely in Finland and abroad. By now, the band was a well-oiled machine, ready to capture the successor to their celebrated second album. The band decided to follow a different path compared to the creation of Kings of Time: they would record their third album alongside the well-known, slightly eccentric engineer and producer Jani Viitanen. The recognizable Magyar Posse style was present in the pieces of Random Avenger, but something was slightly different. The new music was more rhythm-based, more riff-based and in places more joyous than the dynamic minor key avalanche of Kings of Time. Consciously or unconsciously, the band members saw that they had travelled the Slavic melancholy road as far as possible with the previous album. The success of Kings of Time felt like a positive push, not an extra pressure on their shoulders. It was only natural to strike again while the iron was hot. Many of the pieces had been already developed by the time Kings of Time was released, which eased the production of Random Avenger. After the meticulous but relatively swift mixing and mastering process, the band members were satisfied with the result. The only component that made some of them blush was the cover art – graphic designer Tom Backström had glaringly used photos of empty stages in forgotten community centres and the like. The beauty or the ugliness is once again in the eye of the beholder. Right after its release, Random Avenger got a very positive response, but not as overwhelming as Kings of Time – which was to be expected, as the previous Magyar Posse album had probably been the most universally praised Finnish album of the whole decade. Mikko Elo, musician / journalist, Pori, Finland, March 1st 2026

'Where the Smoke Goes captures the conscious and unconscious of Johnny Coley in duet between 2020-2024 AD. Alabama-born, Marseille-based artist Turner Williams Jr. wraps a selection of his dear friend Johnny’s penultimate compositions in arresting tone poems.
'The music buzzes and hums with distant trains, trembling strings, and lapping water, haloing our protagonist in a humid glow as he considers whether horses can live to 70 years old, cigarettes potent enough to knock you on your ass, and orchids facing the wrath of winter storms.
'This work began in the first Covid spring, as Johnny's advancing multiple sclerosis gave way to a permanent domestic confinement and a final period of prolific creativity. Johnny braved the toxic gales of social media to share his thriving poetry and visual art practice and to keep in touch with friends like Turner, who had recently moved abroad. For the first time, Johnny recorded himself, sending Turner fresh poems, day and night.
'Taking cues from late era Coil and the operas of Robert Ashley, Turner approached these recordings both as language and pure sound, arranging accompanying mosaics that emerge as much from Johnny’s unseen text as his mercurial drawl. Tracks draw from Turner’s solo practice as well as sessions including Henry Birdsey of Old Saw, members of the French underground (Manoir Molle, Loto Retina, Mona Assayag) and close Birmingham collaborators (Jasper Lee, Jimmy Griffin, Ladonna Smith). The voice is parsed and played as an instrument and each poem becomes a score.
'There is Johnny’s poetry and Johnny’s voice. These are two independent yet interwoven instruments. For Turner, Johnny's vocabulary, cadence, and timbre carry all of the contradictions that he writes about. His work is a dialogue of rich contradictions. "He plays with Southern American vernacular speech in his poetry while embodying it with his speech, creating a zone of emotional frisson. He loved combining opposites. Rough yet soft was one of his favourite descriptors", Turner recalls, "That was Johnny. ” Upon hearing the completed record, Johnny likened it to "a beautiful wood box, that when you open it there are fabrics shot through with silk threads and sharp fall woods smells - supporting and decorating the poems that fall out of them. ”
'This record captures something unconscious, atmospheric, and gives it unexpected materiality. Smoke that you can feel like grass under your feet. Stars that you can touch like a lover. Meeting for the final time in the summer or 2025, the time for words had passed so they just held hands and listened to the album opener Stargazer in silence as Johnny drifted off to sleep.'

Massimiliano Pagliara celebrates 20 years of music production with a special anniversary compilation on Funnuvojere. The release brings together solo productions and collaborations spanning a rich and abundant period that began when Pagliara acquired his first analogue machines, five years after moving to Berlin from Milan, where he worked as a professional dancer and choreographer.

The compilation features 20 previously unreleased tracks, deeply infused with italo grooves, wonky bass-lines, balearic pads, drama, love, sex, and dreams. These tracks evoke a wide spectrum of moments, ranging from intimate, pleasure-driven home listening to full-blown dance-floor euphoria. Throughout the compilation, one can feel Pagliara’s enthusiasm for discovery—his excitement in encountering new machines and immediately putting them to work.

Pagliara’s sonic identity is unmistakable, present in every track and in the compilation as a whole. Like the facets of a crystal, the music reflects his many nuances while maintaining a strong, coherent core. Tracks such as Waves of Desire pay homage to Dream House, reimagined through contemporary production with cosmic tones and infectious drums. Flicker Of Us reveals a dramatic tension between a rowdy bass-line and melancholic pads, while We Can Touch The Sky features Pagliara himself on vocals, blending synth-pop with elements of new wave and glam rock. Cool Breeze unfolds as a sunlit, optimistic walk through a wide Berlin avenue—funky, warm, and filled with curiosity for what lies ahead.

A notable strength of the compilation lies in its collaborations, which highlight Pagliara’s joy in working with other producers and vocalists. Each collaboration reveals a distinct character: the balearic sensibility of A Journey of Discovery with Gatto Fritto, the French house flavour of Neon Memories with Alinka, the 70s disco inflection of It’s In Your Eyes with the late Aérea Negrot, and the driving techno attitude of Whirlwind with Fabrizio Mammarella, to name just a few.

Ultimately, this compilation stands as both a gift to Massimiliano’s long-time fans and an open invitation to new listeners. It offers entry into a world shaped by beauty, order, balance, and ecstasy—guided by an enduring love for the craft.

Sometimes the title of an album tells you everything you need to know. Laurence Pike’s Possible Utopias for Jazz Quintet is like that: The music within represents a search for freedom, potentiality—liberatory strategies that transcend the ego and the solitary, atomized figure.

But in this case, the album title is also a red herring, because there is no jazz quintet here—just Pike, his drums, and his machines, not so much an ersatz ensemble as a purely notional one, a thought experiment equipped with drumsticks, circuitry, and the desire to go beyond hardwired limits.

And the results, strictly speaking, aren’t really jazz, though they incorporate the vocabulary of jazz, along with that of ambient, electronica, and post-rock. They are some other thing, cognizant of genre but never beholden to it. Again, we’re talking about a search for freedom here.

The Sydney-based musician has a long history of coloring outside the lines, not just in his solo recordings—including four albums for the Leaf label between 2018 and 2024—but also in the trio Pivot (later PVT); Szun Waves (alongside saxophonist Jack Wyllie and Border Community’s Luke Abbott); Triosk, which recorded an album with Jan Jelinek in 2003; and even post-punk titans Liars, whom he joined in late 2018.

Of his first album for Balmat, Pike says, “My loose concept was: What does music sound like when the expectations of late capitalism are removed from it? How might a jazz musician from an idealised culture of the future, or even another world, utilise musical language when the conventions of style and marketing are no longer a factor in music making?”

That inquiry, he says, connects to his “guiding principle: that the purpose of music is to access something bigger than the individual, and reveal a sense of possibility and freedom in the world to the listener. To create an understanding that the future can be something other than what we imagined or expect, even unconsciously.”

Heady ideas, but plug into his stream-of-metaconsciousness flow and you may start to intuit what motivates him. There is a deeply lyrical expression in these pieces—in the ruminative piano of opener “Guardians of Memory,” for example—but also a sense of exploded perspective, of ideas approached from more angles than any one mind could dream up. Of a collectivized consciousness, of mycelial networks branching across tone and rhythm and timbre, of ideas articulated in distributed fashion, nodal points dancing across drum heads.

Pike’s imaginary quintet is hardly without precedent; it’s a continuation of concepts floated across Jan Jelinek’s Loop-Finding-Jazz-Records, Burnt Friedman’s many guises, and much of the recombinant improv of the International Anthem roster, not to mention the far corners of ECM’s catalog in the late 1970s and 1980s, which Pike says have been integral to his development since he was a teenager. Possible Utopias for Jazz Quintet is a point in a continuum, a voice in a conversation, a question with no obvious answer: How can the search for otherness in music manifest something true about ourselves?

Shaped from fragile, emotionally charged piano motifs that distort, disappear and transform into dense, cinematic textures, 'CANALS' is a debut that's finely matured, the result of years of friendship and growth. Italian artist Vanja Sturno and Montréal-based Belgian-Spanish composer Pablo Geeraert (aka Sanea Ima) have worked together extensively on various projects up until now, but 'CANALS' is their first official release as a duo. Having both studied music academically, the pair were eager to work more intuitively, so applied their well-honed set of skills to sound that, instead of fitting into a conceptual box, reflected more personal experiences.

Back in 2023, Geeraert travelled to Rome to support his friend at a difficult time and, during the trip, received some bad news of his own. The complicated feelings unconsciously surged through a series of delicate Ryuichi Sakamoto-inspired piano improvisations and a new project began to coalesce. They didn't realize it at the time, but once the record was finished, Sturno and Geeraert began to understand that the entire process had been a form a joint catharsis - a release of pressure. They were able to function so effortlessly and swiftly because they had already provided the space for each other to resonate emotionally and the music flowed from that point.

So the album's title, while remaining ambiguous, suggests its formation: a sequence of eight interconnected channels that feed a creative whole. On the first segment, Sturno and Geeraert's initial recordings can be perceived most nakedly, the melancholy, Satie-like phrases floating peacefully for a moment before the tranquility is agitated by stormy distortions and swelled into thick waves of harmony. The piano provides the record with its emotional anchor, offering focus and clarity as multi-dimensional noise wells up around it before inevitably dissipating, leaving gentle, unadorned sounds once again.

And the familiar instrument is reshaped into a wheezing artificial organ on the animated 'CANALS III', punctuated by percussive, tape-warped pitch fluctuations that seem to bite into its very essence. Gauzy acoustic granulations snowball into a powerful, bass-heavy crescendo on the fourth part, setting the tenor for the album's second half. But after the crushing 'CANALS VI', possibly Sturno and Geeraert's heaviest track, a brief tremolo-heavy vignette that ripples through experimental rock and ambient music's braided history, the duo clear the air with a jazzy diversion, introducing soft woodwind blasts as a palate cleanser before an epic, widescreen finale.

It's an album that's best absorbed as a whole, a vortex of ritualistic, rhythmic repetitions that Sturno and Geeraert appropriately refer to as "spiral listening".

Ein PUNK-ROCK-MEISTERWERK neu aufgelegt - mit, aus aktuellem Anlass, aktualisiertem 2026 Cover-Artwork! Das erste Studioalbum von NOFX auf Fat! Die Band behandelte ernste Themen (Punk-Kultur und Politik) mit ihrem typischen Witz und Sarkasmus und zielte auf George W. Bush. Nun ist ein neuer Clown am Start! Damals (2003) schaffte es das Album sowohl in Großbritannien als auch in den USA in die Top 50 und war auch auf dem europäischen Festland erfolgreich, wo es in der Schweiz und in Deutschland die Top 30 erreichte, in Österreich die Top 50 und in Frankreich die Top 100. "Musically, NOFX fuses its political cynicism with criticism of punk rock itself and suggests that the best thing for all the kids and the bands might be to close ranks and start their own little hardcore community. 'Irrationality of Rationality' and 'Franco Un-American'_two of the album's most melodic, catchy songs_are also two of War on Errorism's most biting commentaries. The first personalizes the trickle-down effect of corporate decision-making over a lockstep hardcore rhythm; the second gets all-new wavy as Fat Mike reasons out his own world view, and somehow rhymes "apathy" with "Noam Chomsky.'" - NOFX hat sich zwar aufgelöst, aber das Vermächtnis lebt weiter. Die Band ist derzeit Gegenstand ihrer ersten umfassenden Ausstellung im Punk Rock Museum in Las Vegas. Die Dokumentation "40 Years of Fuckin Upmakes" feiert beim SXSW 2026 Premiere und ist ab April umfassend zu sehen (Score & Original Soundtrack mit neuer Musik von NOFX folgen in Kürze). Der zweite Teil der A-Z-Raritäten-Trilogie "I to Q" soll Ende 2026 erscheinen. Und behaltet Fat Mike im Auge, denn Gerüchten zufolge hat er eine eigene Meinung zur aktuellen Weltlage. Warning: owning this record might piss off (more than ever) your army recruiter, grizzled grampa, or those wacky flag-wavin' nationalist buddies of yours.

Ein PUNK-ROCK-MEISTERWERK neu aufgelegt - mit, aus aktuellem Anlass, aktualisiertem 2026 Cover-Artwork! Das erste Studioalbum von NOFX auf Fat! Die Band behandelte ernste Themen (Punk-Kultur und Politik) mit ihrem typischen Witz und Sarkasmus und zielte auf George W. Bush. Nun ist ein neuer Clown am Start! Damals (2003) schaffte es das Album sowohl in Großbritannien als auch in den USA in die Top 50 und war auch auf dem europäischen Festland erfolgreich, wo es in der Schweiz und in Deutschland die Top 30 erreichte, in Österreich die Top 50 und in Frankreich die Top 100. "Musically, NOFX fuses its political cynicism with criticism of punk rock itself and suggests that the best thing for all the kids and the bands might be to close ranks and start their own little hardcore community. 'Irrationality of Rationality' and 'Franco Un-American'_two of the album's most melodic, catchy songs_are also two of War on Errorism's most biting commentaries. The first personalizes the trickle-down effect of corporate decision-making over a lockstep hardcore rhythm; the second gets all-new wavy as Fat Mike reasons out his own world view, and somehow rhymes "apathy" with "Noam Chomsky.'" - NOFX hat sich zwar aufgelöst, aber das Vermächtnis lebt weiter. Die Band ist derzeit Gegenstand ihrer ersten umfassenden Ausstellung im Punk Rock Museum in Las Vegas. Die Dokumentation "40 Years of Fuckin Upmakes" feiert beim SXSW 2026 Premiere und ist ab April umfassend zu sehen (Score & Original Soundtrack mit neuer Musik von NOFX folgen in Kürze). Der zweite Teil der A-Z-Raritäten-Trilogie "I to Q" soll Ende 2026 erscheinen. Und behaltet Fat Mike im Auge, denn Gerüchten zufolge hat er eine eigene Meinung zur aktuellen Weltlage. Warning: owning this record might piss off (more than ever) your army recruiter, grizzled grampa, or those wacky flag-wavin' nationalist buddies of yours.

Leather-jacket krautrock? Indeed. Welcome to the world of Carrboro NC's Object Hours. These generous saviors consist of three Triangle scene lifers who all worship the riff but imagine what happens if the riff fell into the middle of your favorite CAN LP. Yes, it lives up to the hype.

"Solved By Walking" was recorded in the winter of 2025 at Betty's in the Chapel Hill woods, these are mighty rock slabs ready for all seasons. Rock believers have felt the ripples and knew the day was coming. Object Hours is a band that fits right in on stage alongside acts as varied as Kim Gordon and Tropical Fuck Storm, bringing the house down in these and similar moments. These are songs that groove, peel paint, sandblast, inspire unconscious movement, make your head bob - frequently all at the same time. These are the jams inspired by the time that you heard "Fun House" coming out of that dude's car with the windows down in the middle of the summer, the ones inspired by the kids who own 3 copies of "Daydream Nation," the ones who listen to the last 1:30 of Wire's "Too Late" over and over. This is the band that has a timer on stage so they don't keep each song playing for days on end, the band whose Bandcamp bio succinctly summarizes their approach thusly: "We try to keep songs under 25 minutes for your sake." Every word here should be inspiration for you to *want* and *need* to hear this record and every word here is true. Just you wait.

Real heads know and the rest of the heads are getting ready to find out. Get ready for Object Hours' "Solved By Walking".

From the quiet desolation of earlier Iterum Nata now rises something heavier – more aggressive and defiant. With “Heartwood”, Finnish multi-instrumentalist Jesse Heikkinen (The Abbey, Henget, ex-Hexvessel) reshapes his progressive rock and neo-folk foundations through the crucible of metal, layering doom-laden riffs and blackened textures upon the project’s introspective core.

To give this vision its pulse, Heikkinen enlisted Ukrainian drummer Yurii Ciel (Stoned Jesus, Cailleach Calling, ex-White Ward), whose expressive performance transforms “Heartwood” into the most visceral Iterum Nata release to date. Together they carve a sound both expansive and immediate: progressive journeys steeped in folk atmosphere, driven by the weight and force of metal.

The record also features rare guest appearances: King Dude lends his commanding voice to “Forgiveness Undone”, Alexander Kuoppala (ex-Children of Bodom) unleashes a searing solo in “I Have Been Sacrificed”, and Sami Hynninen (Reverend Bizarre) delivers an unearthly vocal in “Only Ash and Bones Remain”.

“Heartwood” is an album hewn from fury yet tempered by revelation. Where past Iterum Nata releases drew from solitude and sorrow, here the wellspring is anger – but anger that points beyond itself, toward beauty, hope, and transcendence. It is a meditation on the spiritual war within the collective unconscious, channelled through music that flows between Anathema and My Dying Bride, Opeth and In the Woods…, Pink Floyd and Green Carnation.

Tape

Around the Songster's Commune was made quite quickly and purposefully without a lot of fuss -- made to preserve the spirit of its making -- at Diana Duta's generous Jambes studio in Brussels. It's a collection of meditations: compositional fragments, whimsy ditties, field recordings and (live/d) experiments with troubadour song-making methodologies. It's a sonic drift -- sonically drifts. Here, Bergur seems to be exploring the looseness of world-making. Or, maybe better said, exploring how loose he can get with world-making and the realization of sonic realities. Exploring how unconscious, how trusting of himself, as an artist/composer/sound-maker/human, he can be.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 is a compilation bringing together the early 2000s works of Marco Passarani under his Analog Fingerprints alias, collecting key tracks originally released on Rome’s Plasmek and Pigna labels.

For Numbers, the story starts long before the label itself. In their formative years, digging in Glasgow’s Rubadub, Passarani’s records felt like dispatches from a future city. Releases on his own Nature Records and on labels such as Generator and Interr-Ference Communications were mind blowing: rooted in Detroit techno, Chicago house and electro, yet pushing somewhere new. Much like fellow travellers Autechre, who would remix him in 2001, Passarani’s music balanced machine funk with restless experimentation.

Information was scarce, and you would hear these records first on the dancefloor or at listening stations in shops like Rubadub. Print fanzines like Ear and early web outposts such as Forcefield offered only fragments. But there was a palpable axis forming between Detroit techno and a new European wave of record labels including Skam, Rephlex, Clone, Viewlexx and Nature itself. It was the sound that defined Saturday nights at Rubadub’s ‘69’ parties in Paisley, just outside of Glasgow.

Passarani’s records, in particular, were instrumental in bringing together the future Numbers co-founders. Richard had already booked him pre-Numbers; meanwhile Calum (Spencer) and Jack (Jackmaster), then 16/17 year olds working alternate Saturdays in Rubadub, were so enamoured with the Roman sound that they travelled to Rome for the Bitz Festival in 2003 to seek out Passarani and Lory D at their source.

The first Analog Fingerprints release landed as a 12” on Plasmek in 2001, following the fractured, IDM-leaning 6 Katun material. For Passarani, the project marked a recalibration. A DJ first and foremost, he had moved into production via early computer setups, from a Commodore Amiga through primitive PC audio, Cubase and Logic, later experimenting with Ableton. The IDM scene had offered a playground for trial and error, but there was always a tension between abstraction and the dancefloor. Analog Fingerprints became the bridge: still intelligent, but with more dance than distance. After years of broken beats and complex arrangements, he wanted directness without surrendering identity.

Working closely with Francesco de Bellis and Mario Pierro in the Pigneto district, the trio formed Pigna as a vehicle for reclaiming a more accessible dance sound, deliberately steering away from the minimal wave beginning to dominate Europe. Sessions were fast, instinctive, often stretching late into the night with friends dropping by. It was a studio as social space, production as collective energy.

“In that constant search for balance, Analog Fingerprints was my way of expressing something closer to the classic dance floor. The track 'Tribute' - a tribute to my favourite early Detroit techno track of all time, 'First Bass' by Separate Minds - came after I realised I had almost lost my connection with the dance floor. The simplest step was to take inspiration from early Chicago and Detroit and twist it in our Roman ‘Pigna’ way. My goal was to create more accessible dancefloor tracks by mixing my unconscious Italo roots with my teenage love for that early US sound, ensuring the result was as far as possible from the minimal sound that was starting to dominate everywhere.” - Marco Passarani

Technically, the Analog Fingerprints tracks span a transitional era: Roland TR-909, SH-101 and Alpha Juno hardware met early software experiments. A Novation Drumstation rack stood in for the unattainable TR-808, syncing with TB-303 and TR-606. Yet the true secret weapon was Jeskola Buzz, a tracker-style modular environment that allowed step-by-step parameter control and strange melodic constructions, later exported into the audio sequencer. Even the lead on ‘Tribute’ came from an early PPG Wave-style plugin. It was hybrid thinking at a moment when digital tools still felt unstable but full of possibility for technologists like Passarani.

Behind the music sat Finalfrontier, a loose Roman collective orbiting Nature and Plasmek. Distribution and production were intertwined; importing obscure records into Italy built connections with like-minded outsiders across Europe and the US. Expensive phone bills and fax machines forged an “electronix network” that linked Rome to Clone, Viewlexx, Skam, Rephlex, Rubadub and Detroit’s Underground Resistance. There was a shared sense of survival and resistance, of operating against commercial systems.

Passarani recalls “The first time I found a sheet of paper inside an Underground Resistance 12” with info about upcoming releases... and a huge picture of Spock on the back. Imagine that: you love the music, you love Star Trek, and there’s someone on the other side of the ocean sharing those same values and sounds. It was the perfect match. We even gave our original company the suffix ‘Finalfrontier’: that says it all.”

Feedback in that era arrived physically: distributor faxes, conversations with visiting DJs, the experience of playing abroad and meeting kids who had connected with the records. Glasgow became a key node in a scattered outlier network. Passarani personally brought the first two Nature releases to Fat Cat in London, playing them in-store. Shortly after, a fax arrived from Rubadub in Glasgow requesting copies.

“I still remember that phone buzz and the fax paper slowly sliding out, with someone I didn’t know saying they wanted 75 copies of Nature 001. Or like the time we got a fax from the Rephlex crew just saying, “Hello Nature Records, Keep up the good work.” That was how we knew the message was getting through. It was a fantastic feeling; just one piece of thermal fax paper as an analog notification - the mood for the entire week would change.” - Passarani

The connection to Glasgow has since stretched across generations. As Passarani reflects, links often fracture as scenes renew themselves, but in Glasgow something different happened. New and old mixed seamlessly. There was a visible trust in what came before, and a willingness to carry it forward rather than discard it. Observed from Rome, it was deeply encouraging.

Analog Fingerprints Vol. 0 captures that moment of exchange: Rome to Glasgow, Detroit to Europe, experiment to dancefloor. It documents an artist recalibrating his sound and a network of scenes discovering one another in real time, connected by vinyl, faxes and shared intent.

The ultimate deep listening experience from two masters of dark ambient. A slow descent into the blackened watery abyss, where light cannot reach. The first release from Sleep Research Facility since 2012's "Stealth" (Cold Spring) is inspired by the deep sea ocean floor. The Canadian-based composer explores notions of awareness and perception in the sub/unconscious listener. Focusing primarily on sound bereft of rhythm based energies, SRF provides an environments wherein the music adds texture to the silence. Using form without structure and concentrating on space as opposed to narrative, SRF entertains the idea that music can reside in the very fabric of sound itself. The brand new material here was created specifically for this split release.Taking inspiration from the beautiful, but often harsh landscapes and environments of his home on Anglesey, North Wales, Llyn Y Cwn has built on the nautical theme of "Du Y Moroedd" (Cold Spring). These tracks are based on field recordings relating to the ocean, and could be seen as a companion piece to the album. 'Dale Dawn' features a recording of the dawn chorus made from the floating pontoon at Dale, Pembrokeshire. 'Pebble' includes the sound of waves crashing on a Dorset cobble beach, thousands of rocks colliding in chorus. 'Doppler Current Profiler' is based on the sound of an ADCP, an acoustic sonar instrument used to measure water currents - a 600Khz ping slowed to a heartbeat. CD in mini-LP sleeve, replicating the vinyl design. The artwork features a separate front cover design with individual art for each side, making this a true split release.

Predatory Void returns with their third record, an EP titled `Atoned in Metamorphosis`, a concentrated statement of intent that compresses the band's restless energy into four precise movements. The music negotiates extremes: patient, reverb-saturated passages give way to sudden, metallic eruptions; subterranean basslines provide narrative weight beneath volatile guitar textures, vocals growl, wail and lament as drums alternate between measured architecture and volcanic release. The result is an austere, immersive sound that is both incandescent and violently sharp. Conceptually the EP takes on the ugly shadow of the unconscious and cathartically wrestles the demon onto canvas. Calling on elements from sludge, doom and black metal, as well as the unrelenting energies of hardcore and contrasting slower, haunted atmospheres, Predatory Void's signature sound is as volatile and piercing as ever. Concise, tight compositions that hook you in melody and then rage in filthy agony. The music can be confrontational, but it is never gratuitous_force is deployed to clarify rather than to overwhelm as emotional depth is at all times the compass. The production aesthetic prioritises fidelity to performance: takes are preserved for their immediacy, dynamics remain uncompromised, and the mix privileges contrast so that quiet moments carry as much dramaturgical weight as full-band climaxes. `Atoned in Metamorphosis` consolidates Predatory Void's forward motion and stakes a claim for a sound that prizes architectural heft and textural nuance in equal measure. Listeners should expect an immediate physical response in what is undeniably an ardent expression, and enjoy the reward of cumulative detail, for the EP dares you to listen closely: to feel transitions as processes, and to accept tension as a pathway to release. Predatory Void invites engagement, not escape, and demands to be met on its own terms, boldly. RIYL Hexis * CELESTE * Wallowing * LLNN * Downfall of Gaia * Witching

Predatory Void returns with their third record, an EP titled `Atoned in Metamorphosis`, a concentrated statement of intent that compresses the band's restless energy into four precise movements. The music negotiates extremes: patient, reverb-saturated passages give way to sudden, metallic eruptions; subterranean basslines provide narrative weight beneath volatile guitar textures, vocals growl, wail and lament as drums alternate between measured architecture and volcanic release. The result is an austere, immersive sound that is both incandescent and violently sharp. Conceptually the EP takes on the ugly shadow of the unconscious and cathartically wrestles the demon onto canvas. Calling on elements from sludge, doom and black metal, as well as the unrelenting energies of hardcore and contrasting slower, haunted atmospheres, Predatory Void's signature sound is as volatile and piercing as ever. Concise, tight compositions that hook you in melody and then rage in filthy agony. The music can be confrontational, but it is never gratuitous_force is deployed to clarify rather than to overwhelm as emotional depth is at all times the compass. The production aesthetic prioritises fidelity to performance: takes are preserved for their immediacy, dynamics remain uncompromised, and the mix privileges contrast so that quiet moments carry as much dramaturgical weight as full-band climaxes. `Atoned in Metamorphosis` consolidates Predatory Void's forward motion and stakes a claim for a sound that prizes architectural heft and textural nuance in equal measure. Listeners should expect an immediate physical response in what is undeniably an ardent expression, and enjoy the reward of cumulative detail, for the EP dares you to listen closely: to feel transitions as processes, and to accept tension as a pathway to release. Predatory Void invites engagement, not escape, and demands to be met on its own terms, boldly. RIYL Hexis * CELESTE * Wallowing * LLNN * Downfall of Gaia * Witching

Vinyl release of the album from 2023. Black vinyl in a standard sleeve. “out of love in the face of a shadow” is the new album from Credit Electric. Exploring the human unconscious through impressionistic pop vignettes, the album represents a significant evolution of the band’s sound that originally stemmed from limitations put in place by the global pandemic, before blossoming into something altogether new and unexpected. What started to emerge was a body of work that drew upon lo-fi jazz, dub, post-rock, ambient music, 70’s studio experimentation, and 90’s indie rock as much as the rustic folk of their past releases. The resulting album “out of love in face of a shadow” calls to mind influences as disparate as Hiroshi Yoshimura, American Football, Scientist, and Magnolia Electric Co, all the while inhabiting a world completely of their own design. Highly anticipated sophomore album from Credit Electric. Press coverage on recent releases includes reviews and features in New Commute (Albums of the Year), Various Small Flames, Raven Sings the Blues, Psychedelic Baby Magazine, and more. UK/EU Publicity handled by Chris Carr & Mal Smith. “…the band crafts American hymns that peer through fogged glass, tracing the lines of lament in hazy relief…” - Raven Sings the Blues // Albums of the Year - New Commute

Evolving from a solo-project of Christian Wilson Larsen to a dynasty including members of Serena Maneesh, Le Corbeau, Mindy Misty, Burning Motherfuckers, Next Life, Far From Tellus and Deathcrush, - Izakaya Heartbeat is seemingly a constellation in flux - complimentary to their psychedelic soundscape. Three available albums in our catalog and more on the horizon. "They do a sort of driving early/mid 90s alt rock thing, mentioning Sonic Youth, MBV, Trumans Water, Unwound, Can, Mudhoney and 100 other bands you know as influences. Their guitar sound is definitely Thurston/Lee, but unlike SY, they have members who can headbang their impressively long locks when locating a locked noise-rock groove." - Stereogum

A hiatus is nothing but the reconsideration of fundamental values and interests.

Simple Times is back with “A Thin Line Between Dreams & Nightmares” EP, an emotional deep dive into the world of Progressive Trance, House & Electro. Aiming to follow the principles of stereo and raw, uncompressed music, this EP offers a fresh take on vintage music and the early culture of raves, dancing, and dance music.

Returning with its final instalments, Die Schachtel's Decay Music series extends its explorations of inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract with Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s “Liminale” and Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, two astounding electroacoustic gestures of blurred space and time, plumbing complexity of meaning bound to sonority. Creatively groundbreaking and inspired, radically rethinking the terms of what ambient music can be perceived to be, they stand among the most striking efforts to appear within the series to date.

Reconfiguring the notion of bridge building on a multitude of terms, it feels fitting that the tenth and final installment of Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, was co-created by an artist whose work featured in the first suite of LPs issued by Brian Eno’s Obscure Records in 1975, the groundwork toward which Decay Music’s own efforts nod. Since that auspicious debut, “New and Rediscovered Musical Instruments” — his split with Max Eastley — David Toop has been regarded as a pioneer in British experimental and improvised music: a sonic voyager who has continuously challenged the sources and materiality of sound through rigorously thoughtful performances, a vast catalog of recordings, and a steady flow of highly influential texts. Be it as a member of Alterations, his group breaking group with Peter Cusack, Terry Day, and Steve Beresford that ran between 1977 to 1986, or through is noteworthy work with artists like Rie Nakajima, Thurston Moore, Paul Burwell, Rhodri Davies, Lee Patterson, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Akio Suzuki, Elaine Mitchener, and numerous others, collaboration has always played a central role within Toop’s singular practice, but few can claim the sprawling sense of beauty and intimacy that’s achieved by “And I Entered Into Sleep”, his first recorded outing with Sergio Armaroli.

A composer, percussionist, vibraphonist, and multidisciplinary artist, Armaroli has been issuing radical and forward-thinking musical gestures for decades, working as one of Italy’s most noteworthy interpreters of composer’s like Giacinto Scelsi, John Cage, Franco Evangelisti, Giancarlo Schiaffini, and Walter Branchi, as both a solo performer and member of the highly regarded Rib Trio, as well as forging a singular practice as a composer, intertwining his efforts as a painter, concrete percussionist, fragmentary poet and sound artist, within a total art, rooted “within the language of jazz and improvisation” as an “extension of the concept of art”. Like Toop, Armaroli’s career has been populated by many collaborators, notably with Riccardo Sinigaglia, Alvin Curran, and Walter Prati, among others, setting the stage for a remarkable meeting between the pair.

Featuring Armaroli on vibraphone and prepared vibraphone and Toop on electronics, “And I Entered Into Sleep” is “a sonic journey, a Proustian suggestion à la Recherche, into the unconscious between electronic and acoustic sounds”. Using a bell that sounds at the beginning of Proust’s “À la Recherché du Temps Perdu”, which reappears more than 3,000 pages later — signaling a transition of phases, as well an auditory trigger of memory — as a departure point, as an association to the percussive vibraphone pulses that thread the album’s two sides, the pair weave a striking interior world of immersive psychological depth. Feeling almost subaquatic at times, like captured glimpses of rumbling, shadowy ecosystems lost within murky ambiences, before washing ashore in a series of pointillistic, highly detailed alien landscapes of the mind, each artist’s markedly different sound-sources, and treatment of the subsequent material elements, dance in abstract grace, incorporating subtle nods to minimalism, free jazz, and musique concrète within its seamless total form of sparse texture and tone.

Easily one of the most striking and memorable releases by either artist to appear in recent years, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep” traverses uncharted realms at the borders of literary reference, sound art, ambience and abstraction through delicately musical sounds, revealing new depths at every turn. Issued as the tenth and final album in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

Fetter’s Body of Noise erupts at the threshold between ravey hypnosis and avant-pop experiment, slithering through the hinterlands of unconscious desire. Nine shape-shifting tracks conjure haunted landscapes where beauty refuses clarity and dancefloor logic warps underfoot. Vocals swoon, drift, and demand—stacking into fragments that multiply and weave through saturated pulses and shimmering, snarling synths.

Opening track "Like a Rose" traces a dreamer’s transition into the unstable physics of a perplexing but familiar dream world, where they gradually become lucid. “Beast” follows up humming with shadowed urgency, threading a path through self-sabotage and metamorphosis. “Spathiphyllums” drifts a while in a lush lostness, aching for something new before fracturing into wild, cathartic collapse. Side B’s “Do I Exist? (D.I.E)” and “The Longing” spiral into existential wonder, searching for a human origin story—both personal and collective—against a backdrop of uncertainty, while “Headache” thrusts forward as an absurd and insistent manifesto to stay the course and harness one’s own power within the madness.

Body of Noise is crafted not only for sweating bodies in motion, but for distorting time and opening psychic portals, where surrender becomes strategy and uncertainty transforms into ecstatic navigation. Rooted in all-hardware improvised production and shaped by Fetter’s years of boundary-blurring visual and performance art, their debut LP feels alive and in flux. Reminiscent of a spectral pop chorus trapped in a loop of broken machinery, or a lost broadcast from a dancefloor in a parallel realm, Body of Noise is a journey into chaos, transformation, and a bold refusal to be contained.

About Fetter:
Fetter makes clubby self-destructing noise pop to dance and weep to. Oscillating between ethereal and pounding, their all-hardware, largely improvised live sets take listeners through a foggy wilderness of saturated rhythms and menacing synth lines, a golden voice guiding the way through. Fetter is the stage moniker of multimedia artist Jess Tucker. Their performances take place in clubs as well as galleries, often incorporating video, installation, and interactive performance art elements to create other-worldly surrounds of mesmerizingly unhinged bodies and faces.

The dons from Down Under have only gone and done it again. Demonstrating the breadth of the Sleep D sound, the ever-prolific duo dish out a 3-track invocation of mesmeric techno and trance.

Following a remix cameo on Alfred Czital and Ayu’s recent ‘Talk To Me’ EP, this is the fully fledged label debut. A truly engrossing triple-pronged attack from two intrepid explorers of the “rave unconscious”.

Celebrated for live hardware sets and in-the-moment improvisation, that same freeform NRG courses throughout. Synapses firing on all cylinders as we’re caught somewhere between the warped, direct and emosh.

Pivoting from cybernetic meltdown to sci-fi dystopia before finally settling on some full-blown trance ascension. Proper techno freak-out into the levitational and sublime, all primed for the big room.

ZUG is without a doubt one of the leading and most compelling forces in contemporary European body and minimal electronic music. Once again joining forces with Oráculo Records, they present a retrospective that traces the arc of their already extensive and influential career. The result is a powerful compilation that blends previously unreleased material with some of their most iconic tracks to date—specially remixed and remastered for this edition. Every piece captures ZUG’s signature approach: a fusion of machine precision and raw physicality that transcends genre limitations. Tailored for fans of truly experimental, humanized electronica, primal drum patterns, and proto, body-shaking basslines, this release is a visceral listening experience from beginning to end. This is body music in its purest form. Presented in a ONE-OFF, truly limited edition of 300 copies, lacquer-cut and pressed on 180g high-quality solid BLACK vinyl. All tracks have been specially remastered and mastered for vinyl by Daniel Hallhuber at Young and Cold Studios (Germany).

‘Maybe I’m Dreaming’ is the latest collection selected by Mikey Young (Total Control, EddyCurrent Suppression Ring) and Keith Abrahamsson (Founder and Head of A&R at AnthologyRecordings), the mangled minds behind the beloved ‘Follow the Sun’, ‘Sad About the Times’,and ‘…Still Sad’ compilations. The twenty tracks of ‘Maybe I’m Dreaming’ make a conscious(and unconscious) detour from its predecessors, sourced entirely from private press releases,spanning new decades and production modes within homespun folk, soft rock and otherwise70s and 80s FM radio adjacent music.  The magic of ‘Maybe I’m Dreaming’ is the untold story of the artists behind these songs; thosewho missed the big time, but whose song craft and unrequited care hit the right notes, bothhigh and low.
Where ‘Follow the Sun’ and ‘Sad About the Times’ introduced us to the fame chasing, ambitioncrashing crooners who missed their shot in the mainstream, ‘Maybe I’m Dreaming’ delvesdeeper into the isolated wilds - a private world where production quirks, late-night tape hiss andone-man studio dreams were not necessarily a choice but the hand that was dealt.
With the parameters set to ‘private press only’, Young and Abrahamsson follow a circuitous trailof invention and emotion, documenting a spirit that’s more homespun, sometimes lonelier andoften a little weirder. The guitars still strum, but the keyboards’ hum is more prevalent andprecious; wistful harmonies brush up against lo-fi drum machines; a bittersweet fog lingeringover even the brightest melodies.
As with their previous collaborations, Young and Abrahamsson weren’t interested inconstructing a museum or drafting a historical survey. ‘Maybe I’m Dreaming’ is a sentimentalmixtape, assembled late at night when the mind wanders and old memories blur with imaginedfutures, those within reach and those far too mysterious to ever encounter. Songs wereunearthed in personal collections, deep YouTube burrows, dilapidated web archives and thedim corners of Discogs, with many selections tied not only to intuition but to personalconnection.  Some tracks arrived via friends - Kelley Stoltz, a frequent guide for Young, tipped him off toboth Peter Kraemer’s lost gem ‘Let the Light Slip’ and Awakening’s revelatory closer - addingan unseen but deeply felt thread of camaraderie to the compilation.
The journey takes in a wide, strange sweep: The Watson Brothers Band’s ‘Just Whistle’ opensthe collection with a sigh and a shrug, a song that feels like it’s been waiting for decades to beheard again. Jim Huxley’s ‘Tessa on a Magazine’, rediscovered after a long and winding searchby Young, shimmers with a distinctly Australian melancholia. The heartbreak of Rick Penta’s‘My Story Changes’ and Twice As Nice’s delicate ‘Thoughts of You’ float easily alongside themore buoyant, radio-dream sheen of Barracuda’s ‘Baby I Love You’ and MAK’s sunshinedappled ‘That’s Life’.
Widening the aperture to the late 1970s and early 1980s allows for a deeper exploration intoevolving production techniques and musical technologies. The Squad’s ‘D.L.M.H.I.M.A.’ andChristoph Spendel Group’s ‘Forever’ crackle with the kind of bedroom synth warmth that couldonly come from the analogue age, while the soulful, yearning undercurrent of Awakening’s‘Gotta Do Somethin / Might As Well Cultivate’ caps the collection with a call for action - ormaybe just acceptance - in an accidental Brian Eno ‘Here Come the Warm Jets’ parroting.
While ‘Maybe I’m Dreaming’ moves away from the ‘sad man with guitar’ archetype that hoveredover its predecessors, it remains tethered to a familiar emotional gravity - a balance of longingand lightness that defines this corner of the musical universe. Each track shuffles gentlybetween resignation and hope, sadness and serenity, as if the artists themselves were chasinga dream just beyond reach, recording not for fame but for the simple act of getting it, thatprimal, creative itch, out into the world.
Available on CD and 2LP, featuring the third eye-opening artwork of Dang Wayne Olsen. Thedouble LP set arrives in an outrageous double-wide spine jacket with printed inners and adream journal entry by Pacific Northwest artifactual authority Josh Lewellen.

Classic black 2LP in gatefold! "Her darkest, heaviest and most personal album yet . . . a haunting, doomy exercise in loud-quiet dynamics." Rolling Stone Sleep paralysis plagues singer/songwriter Chelsea Wolfe, and that strange intersection of the conscious and the unconscious has inadvertently manifested itself within her work. Across the span of her first four albums, there is an underlying tension, a distorted and nebulous territory where dark shadows hover along the edges of the sublime and the graceful. But until now, Wolfe's trials and tribulations with the boundaries between dreams and reality have only been a subconscious influence on her work. With her fifth album, Abyss, she deliberately confronts those boundaries and crafts a score to that realm she describes as the "hazy afterlife. an inverted thunderstorm. the dark backward. the abyss of time." Chelsea Wolfe's material has always felt intensely private, from the almost voyeuristic bedroom-production aesthetic of her debut album The Grime and the Glow to the stark themes and atmospheres of 2013's Pain Is Beauty. "Abyss is meant to have the feeling of when you're dreaming, and you briefly wake up, but then fall back asleep into the same dream, diving quickly into your own subconscious," says Wolfe. To conjure this in-between world, Wolfe continued her ongoing collaboration with multi-instrumentalist and co-writer Ben Chisholm and drummer Dylan Fujioka, with Ezra Buchla brought on board to play viola and Mike Sullivan (Russian Circles) enlisted to contribute guitar. The ensemble traveled to Dallas, TX to record with producer John Congleton (Swans, St. Vincent). In the back of her mind burned the words of designer Yohji Yamamoto: "Perfection is ugly. Somewhere in the things humans make, I want to see scars, failure, disorder, distortion." The resulting eleven songs reflect that philosophy as they smoulder with human frailty, intimacy, quiet passion, anxiety, and deep longing. "Sleep and dream issues have followed me my whole life," remarks Wolfe as she revisits notes from the writing and recording sessions. In a way, these issues have become a part of Chelsea Wolfe's identity, for whom the notion of sleep as an escape has been subverted. Abyss captures this dichotomy, this battle between the soothing and the upsetting, and demonstrates why Chelsea Wolfe has become one of the most intriguing songwriters of the decade.

This new "Experimental Chapter" by DJ Narciso comes as no surprise, really. Autonomous in the motorization of his music, pushing for progress within the framework of an undeniable (inescapable?) heritage. Twisting and bending sound every step of the way, Narciso definitely keeps in touch with the dancefloor, offering the always much needed transcendence through distinctive, non-linear melodies and patterns. The artist pursues a direct link with bodies in motion but seldom in the expected, institutionalized way club culture is being largely promoted.

This is challenging dance music, proud statements of difference. Narciso's previous record was named "Diferenciado". Now we get "Dificuldades", a track that simultaneously carries the weight of being somewhat odd and the difficulties of life. Check how the piano is venting, freestyle, communicating a feeling, and then lets itself get stuck in a loop, but that's exactly when the groove really starts flowing. And then another layer. It's like direct speech.

A common assertion of pride is found in the origin of the artists. The ghetto as a place where any transformation projects more power precisely because of... inherent difficulties. As others (including himself) did in more or less obvious ways, Narciso clearly states "I come from the ghetto" ( "Não Sabes" ). Twice the value. At least. Almost every segment of music in this album ends up sounding heavily emotional, reaffirming what may be - perversely - a well-known characteristic of Portuguese music: melancholy.

"Não Quero" begins side B as a march maybe more significant than a thousand words, such is the ominous tone of its texture. Next track is another lunar tarraxo, pulling down the shades. Then, "Dor de Barriga" lets things loose again, steering clearly off road, shouting this way and that until a peaceful resolution comes. In "Livra-me Desta", vocal snippets blend into synth snippets, disembodied voices abandon all traces of humanity and finally mutate into different entities that, towards the end, again sound vaguely human but now we find ourselves doubting. Closer "Bob" is a rather classic percussion track with plenty of echo, reverb and an unconscious nod to dodecaphonic music. Unlikely? No, the structural ADN of this music is made up of elements western and eastern, southern and northern. To say all-over-the-place is usually not flattering but in this case the expression translates as wonder, surprise, The Unexpected, and reveals Narciso perfectly at ease inside the nucleus of creation.

FOLLOW UP TO THE CRITICALLY ACCLAIMED 2023 ALBUM ‘RPB’ (UTR151):

- #4 MOJO FOLK ALBUMS OF THE YEAR+ FOLK ALBUM OF THE MONTH:
“ IT MELTS TRAD TECHNIQUES AND MINECRAFT BURBLE INTO ‘A MASSIVE, MULTI-PLAYER ONLINE DREAM’ . INCOMPREHENSIBLE/IRRESISTIBLE’

‘ME LOST ME’S RPG (UPSET THE RHYTHM) IS AN EXCITING, IMAGINATIVE ALBUM EXPLORING THE LINKS BETWEEN TRADITIONAL INFLUENCES AND ELECTRONICS IN FERTILE WAYS.’ THE GUARDIAN - FOLK ALBUMS OF THE MONTH.

'FROM NEWCASTLE, VIA UPSET THE RHYTHM, JAYNE DENT EXPLORES FOLK ART AND FUTURISM TO SPELLBINDING EFFECT' THE QUIETUS

FULL PAGE REVIEW IN WIRE MAGAZINE:"ME LOST ME'S NEW ALBUM RPG IS FILLED WITH STORIES OF ADVENTURE AND SELF-DISCOVERY IN VERDANT NATURAL LANDSCAPES, SUNG WITH FEELING AND CLARITY"

Me Lost Me - the project of Newcastle-based artist Jayne Dent - delights in experimenting with songwriting, creating a beguiling mix of soaring vocals and atmospheric electronics that playfully push the boundaries of genre.

On Me Lost Me’s fourth full-length, This Material Moment - arriving on Upset the Rhythm on 27th June - she has created an “emotionally raw” album, her most honest and vulnerable yet.

Concerned with physicality, interpretations, and, yes, materiality, This Material Moment is an album akin to rummaging through a box of long-forgotten trinkets. With each song, Me Lost Me extracts something from the box and asks us to consider it from every angle. "This is an album which uses words as a material, a playful tool for experimentation, full of metaphor, abstraction and analogies.” Jayne says, “it has softness and anger, humour, hope and despair, intensity of feeling in all directions expressed as textures, objects, places."

With the release of This Material Moment Me Lost Me puts into practice the automatic writing techniques she developed during a workshop with Julia Holter, and in the process has spun her music in different directions that draws on poetry, psalms and using mesostic poems and phonetic translations to generate words. “Despite the chance-based writing strategies throughout, it feels like the most emotionally raw album I've ever made,” she says, likening the process to a Rorschah test which revealed things to her she wasn’t expecting to express. “I wanted to hide in stories, but I saw things plainly when I tried to write.” Having finished the writing process, Jayne realised that she had an unexpectedly personal album on her hands, into which her feelings of burnout and overwhelm had crept unconsciously. “Several of the songs for me express a kind of inner conflict, where you’re trying to keep hope and desire and beauty and art near to your heart, to live a meaningful life, but finding that increasingly hard to hold onto in a world that’s so fucked up.”

Whilst Jayne Dent’s music as Me Lost Me has previously presented time stretching back and forwards in opposition (noticeably on 2023’s album RPG), on This Material Moment she does away with linearity altogether, evoking rather than narrating, and presenting feelings, happenings and moods with no clear beginning or end point - “like experiencing a vista, trying to capture a moment that is unfolding all at once”. Instead, each track on This Material Moment exists entirely in media res, adjacent to past and future, and instead sprawling across the endless now.

This Material Moment was written and arranged solo, but played with a core band of John Pope on electric/double bass, Faye MacCalman on clarinet, and now with the addition of Ewan Mackenzie (Dextro/Pigs x7) on drums - bringing in live drums and electric bass for the first time. The album was recorded by Sam Grant at Blank Studios in Newcastle, who also worked on RPG.

Corrosiv, the sophomore album from Orchestroll, reveals the duo at their most mature and vulnerable. Originally conceived as a reflection on hybridity and bastardization, the album deploys New Age and ambient compositional tropes as a launchpad, exposing their trite sanctity to the realities of corrosion. Having come of age in the 1970s and 1980s, the New Age movement perdures today as a domain of contradictions; its promise of transcendence riddled with the very commercialized dogma from which its adherents claim to flee. Healing modalities such as reiki, crystal therapy, and sound baths are simultaneously pathways to solace and sites of exploitation; their sonic counterparts—ethereal synth pads, shimmering textures, celestial drones—claim to facilitate meditation and enlightenment while devolving into empty signifiers of vitality. With Corrosiv, Orchestroll displays neither reverence nor disdain toward New Age: they exhume it instead, revealing the saccharine effervescence and commodified murk undergirding its aesthetics. The result is intoxicating—disquieting.

Born from a two-week residency at EMS Studios and expanded through a performance at MUTEK Montreal’s 25th anniversary, Corrosiv has since outgrown its original conceptual nucleus, taking on a broader scope. Its inquiry into New Age ideology’s voided rhetoric and aesthetic mysticism now informs a broader interrogation of cultural mediocrity, anti-authoritarianism, gatekeeping, music industry toxicity, and the crumbling edifice of late capitalism and techno-feudalism—all the mechanisms by which meaning is stripped from ceremony, and once-potent forms of knowledge are subsumed into the machinery of economic extraction, severed from their original essence, and transformed into hollow simulacra. Corrosiv distills these themes through a loose narrative: a soul, fixated on wellness as dictated by cosmetic economism, becomes ensnared in an endless afterlife, unable to transcend and shed its dilapidated consciousness.

Framed as an act of audio dissolution, the album thus engages in an alchemical process, whereby complex waveshaping, morphing synthesis, and distortion enact a ritual of fragmentation. There is also friction: between the rigid, mechanical imposition of systematized order and the untamed, chaotic force of organic metamorphosis. Here corrosion and confinement are not solely conceptual motifs; they are enacted in real time, sculpting the album’s terrain. Scraping, tarnishing, degradation—the languid wear of form and substance—become instruments in their own right: buffing as abrasion, entrapment as transformation, corrosion as a means of reconfiguration. The ‘protagonist,’ if there must be one, is the listener, caught within the throes of structural determinism and the potential for emancipation, unable to pass into something greater as the specters of collapsed futures accumulate in the margins.

Corrosiv extends its reach through collaborations with familiar voices: Heith (PAN), VISIO (Haunter), Femminielli (Drowned by Locals), Habib Bardi (Interzone), and Jiyoung Wi (Enmossed, Psychic Liberation, Doyenne) each leave their imprint on its sprawling landscape. At 1h16m, it is a procession, dense with earworms that burrow into the listener’s unconscious.

Misshapen, broken-down metals leach copper into blood, acid reflux burning through the core. Psyche disaggregates into cosmic turmoil, drifting between planes—tongue on rustline, gullet laced with solvent hymns, molars unlatching, bitcrushed to marrowspill. A spasm of brine, ferrous scripture, venomtext blooming in leaden rivulets, cartilage smoldering in phosphor decomposition, synapses drowning in a quicksilver choir. Crest of bile, churning ore, breath clotting into arsenic mist, vein-thread cinched, a corrosive gospel, limb by limb, oxidized to silence.

Ultimately, as the music exhales its final breath, its residue refuses to dissipate—and stillness alone remains. There are no conclusions here—no resolution, no collapse—only the slow drift outward of a vessel unmoored, lost in the sea of symbolic souring. Corrosiv sings the song of a world barren of prophecy, littered with aesthetic detritus. Whether this magic has been transfigured or simply worn away is unclear: the last breath dissipates, but the oxidation does not stop. The silence, too, will decay.

Conceptualized, composed, performed, recorded, mixed, engineered and produced by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier, and Asaël Richard-Robitaille in 2023 and 2024 at Elektron Musik Studion (EMS) - Stockholm, Sweden and Landsc8pe Studio - Montréal, QC, Canada.
Artwork by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu @ Schwebung Mastering.

Long, long overdue reissue of this gem from the depths of The Skaters dreamweaving dimension, released as a limited tape through Spencer Clark's Pacific City imprint back in 2008. Comprising a period of extreme and vital activity for both Clark as Monopoly Child Star Searchers and Black Joker and his kindred spirit James Ferraro under his own name - 'Marble Surf' or 'Discovery' - and a myriad of identities like Liquid Metal or Edward Flex, this split finds these intrepid explorers on each side of a scrying mirror.
Conjuring the Angel Snake entity as a vessel for unlocking the unconscious, Ferraro takes up the A-side with hypnotic wooden percussion sustaining queasy tape processed keyboard lines that intertwine amidst a growing haze of hiss. About halfway through the digression an announcer boombox voice cuts up the scenery for a serpentine dance around the discarded remnants of civilisations past and future. Clark's Monopoly Child rides a beaming synth and muffled percussion accents on his trademarked keyboard thrills, all ascending and descending runs brimming on the horizon, not quite here, not quite out of reach, fading out to a galloping murk smeared by hallucinatory flute-like sounds and portamento accents that float in harmonic suspension.
Truly visionary and arresting stuff from these true purveyors of the netherworld, due to be rediscovered in these times of poor half-reassessments of the given past. It was never a dream, it was always a dream.

Emerging from the Minneapolis underground and heading straight towards the sky, IE arrive on Quindi with a full-length album of sparkling, sophisticated wonder. Touching on kosmische grandeur, Riley-esque cyclical patterns, lounge pop and dubbed out psychedelia, the five-piece allow their songs to unfurl with a natural, hypnotic elegance which can take many different forms.
There's a loose, live quality to the recordings IE's members commit to record, which reflects their steady presence gigging in Minneapolis and the surrounding area. Since putting out their first release in 2016, they've glided from drone and synth-led jam band ambience (2018's Pome) to strung out, stoner-tinted slowcore (on 2023's outstanding Junk Body). For Reverse Earth they strike a smoky note that wraps itself around your skull across extended run times that evolve with a meditative poise.
From the deceptively driving 4/4 thrum of the opening title track through 'Divination Bag's snaking tryptamine mantras on to 'Simplify's slow and smouldering indie-soul, IE's sound is bathed in a sumptuous warm glow that rounds out the lows and the mids, creating a nocturnal shroud in which their nebulous song structures can feel deliciously endless.
Meredith Gill's drums provide rolling and tumbling undercurrents for the slowly shifting phases of the instrumental players, as Michael Gallope and Travis Workman trade keyboard parts and Workman and Sam Molstad chop and pick at their six-strings. Atop the thrum of her bass, Mariel Oliviera's vocal adapts to the scenery, from a distant, dreamlike siren song on 'Reverse Earth' to a spoken word meditation on 'Babel'.
There's space in each track for every instrument to cut through and have its moment, from a spiralling key vamp to a chicken-scratch guitar flex. The gently twisting, head-feeding groove exercises of the first four tracks give way to a slow and powerful march on 'Dark Rome', closing the record on a noirish anti-ballad fit to peal out in the closing slot at Twin Peaks' Roadhouse (circa season three).
As much as the tracks teem with composition, musicianship, and production to savor, a sound like IE's has a soporific quality that soaks in unconsciously. It's an evocative portal where the band feel as if they could just play on each piece ad infinitum - where the time itself seems to dislodge from its moorings.

On ‘Animal’, Ash Fure appeals to “animal intelligence” by using sounds that are inherently physical and driven by perception, athleticism and interaction. Placing polycarbonate sheeting over an inverted subwoofer she built alongside her partner Xavi Aguirre and brother Adam, Fure isolates the physical impact of sound by focusing on psychoacoustic sub-bass pulses, semi-perceptible micro-rhythms and discomfiting white noise bursts, linking the process to her experiences in Berlin and Detroit’s techno dungeons where the sound has to adapt to the space it’s performed in. When she performed ‘Animal’ for the first time, Fure fabricated a “listening gym”, allowing the audience to interact in real-time by circuit training in response to the sound. The sweat is almost audible across the record, a run-on selection of rhythms, resonances and abstractions that sound like interlocking heartbeats on a series of treadmills. Her fascination with techno’s cavernous cathedrals is clear from the beginning, but Fure doesn’t worship at the altar: we’re hit with the feeling, not the aesthetic. The beats themselves, made from unstable vibrations and waterlogged, reverberating clicks, echo the brain’s unconscious reaction to repetition in a vast concrete box, the feeling you get when each percussive snag ricochets from every surface in the building. Coddling these whirring, criss-crossing polyrhythms with harsh, distorted low-end retches, Fure accurately recreates the energy and fatigue of the endless weekend sesh. We never once encounter techno in its expected shell, just its residue - the outline of humans figuring out their relationship with technology, architecture and each other. Fure’s use of dynamics is also deviously smart, marking out an overall rhythm that’s not tied to the strength of the sounds themselves, but just volume and physical impact. Often her most brutal sounds - ear-splitting squeals and overdriven mechanical whirrs - are reduced to an almost inaudible level, a bit like the bandy legged trip to the bathroom, or the escape to some dimly lit nook, the part of the night where you can still detect the sound on your skin without being battered by it. When the undulating rhythm returns in earnest, Fure masks acidic sequences in jet engine expulsions, still refusing to objectify anything that an AI model might be able to pick up on.

High Roller Records, reissue 2025, 180g black vinyl, ltd 500, 425gsm heavy cardboard cover, insert, new 2-sided poster, mastered for vinyl by Patrick W. Engel at Temple of Disharmony, original 1987 sound

The latest from The Robinson - that'll be Milan-based brothers Marco and Riccardo Augeri to you - opens with the jazz, live-sounding and improvised 'Life Decisions' with its cosmic synths reaching up to the stars over raw beats. 'Unconscious Habits' follows on, bringing deep, dubby drums, organic percussive lines and a deep jungle vibe while 'Running Algorith' is another humid deep house closer with warm, diffuse pads and a spiralling of deft percussion.