Cerca:under the counte

»Blank Vault / White Stains« is the new solo album by Franz Joseph Kaputt (DRNTTCKS, Otomatik Muziek, Hager/Kaputt). Under his S.U.V. alias, he presents nine highly personal, improvised synthesizer miniatures, accompanied by heavily delayed drum machines and enveloped in clouds of feedback. The music unveils a background rooted in years of noise exercises and ventures into the territories of dark, psychedelic folk, while showcasing a fondness for delicate synthesizer sounds and repetitive song structures. Layers of sound and rhythms collide and arrange themselves to create an idiosyncratic ambient/kraut music that explores the borders of when intimacy becomes toxic. It also delves into how relationships involving kink strategies can be used in a way that don‘t render one powerless or hurt, but ultimately leading to empowerment.

Side A is kind of an utopian dark room, filled with peculiar beats, drones, and dreamy synth arpeggios. Pleasure and joy are subversive acts that challenge and upend stereotypical role models. The pieces revolve around the mutual and consensual exploration of individual boundaries and the transformative states that emerge within these encounters – a unique entity, a »Body Of The Mind« if you will, is formed between individuals. Side B then represents the counterpart. Acid synths, distortion cascades and looped pianos evoke the regression from this playful and subversive approach on to sheer brutality and perverse destruction.

Part fantastical historic sonic biopic, part anthropologic
journey into the deep roots of Belgium’s monstrous
cosmic rock sound, this wholly individualistic concept
album combines the lead members of the mighty COS
(Daniel Schell and Pascale Son) with studio genius
Alain Pierre (Ô Sidarta / Des morts) and celebrated
Dutch progressive rock singer Dick Annegarn, for what
many consider to be both the overlooked hiding place
of Belgium’s deepest psychedelic moment and
European prog’s lost map to the ‘Franco-Flemish
Boom’.
 Emerging from the wider musical family that counted
Marc Moulin, Placebo and Marc Hollander amongst its
creative kin, Daniel Schell’s most profound conceptual
project ambitiously combines the tale of the heroic
historical figure of Count Egmont (1522–1568), while
simultaneously tracing the evolution of the ud, or oud,
(‘the grandfather of the guitar’) in this multifarious
hallucinogenic epic.
 Featuring key members of other collectable groups
such as drummer Felix Simtaine from Solis Lacus and
bass player Jean-Louis Baudoin from the mythical
Classroom (COS predecessor), this best-kept secret
vinyl release also harbours the voices of Dirk Bogaert
(of Belgian hard rockers Waterloo), as well as Catalan
singer Ilona Chale (Marc Hollander / Aksak Maboul)
before her later tenure as the COS front woman.
 Initially released in 1978 via Zeuhl school distributors
Free Bird alongside French pressings of Don Cherry,
Jacques Thollot and CAN, it is plain to understand the
niche nature of this maligned ‘lost COS’ LP as it finally
blooms from between the cracked branches of
European jazz-rock-synth-psych-prog-pop history…
and beyond

epressed! Proto-punk and garage Zamrock: the celebrated guitarist Paul
Ngozi’s essential debut album. Featuring Chrissy Zebby Tembo

Guitarist/vocalist Paul Ngozi’s debut album – under the name Ngozi Family - is an important record: not just in the Zamrock genre,
but in the global rock canon. Day of Judgement is an introduction to the most intense, raw and inimitable golden era Zamrock
recorded, as it paved the way for a dozen Paul Ngozi and Ngozi Family releases (the most famous being drummer Chrissy Zebby
Tembo’s My Ancestors) that straddled the line between funk and punk, of driving hard rock and Zambian folk melodies and rhythms.
Day of Judgement was released in 1976, the same year as other, now famous, Zamrock albums, from WITCH’s Lazy Bones!! to Rikki
Ililonga’s Zambia. But it sounds like none of its counterparts. Part of that stems from its frenzied primitivism, the Ngozi Family’s
attempt to overcome a lack of musical acumen with sheer force of will.
That will allowed Paul Ngozi to overcome a humble upbringing to become the most unlikely combination: Zamrock’s most beloved
star in its brief but now-well chronicled arc; the only musician to maintain his fame and recording prowess in the dark ages of the
’80s; an inspiration to not only aging but young Zambians — and now others, beyond Zambia’s borders.
But one cannot imagine Paul Ngozi without this album, a full-on aural assault that sounds as wild nearly forty years after its release
as it must have sounded in the developing Zamrock landscape from which it emerged. We listen to this anachronistic yet prescient
album now as a wholly original, completely unpredictable album in line with those from mavericks from across the world – from the
Ramones to the Sex Pistols to Death. And, though it’s been over two decades since Paul Ngozi’s passing, his voice and vision still
seem exciting, powerful, unique, unvarnished, new.

Their masterpiece? With breaks for dayyyyyys and an almost ambient, heavy jazz atmosphere throughout, *this* is the apex of British jazz-rock fusion. We'll Talk About It Later was first released on Vertigo in 1971 and original copies are now very tricky to score. Like all the Nucleus records, it’s aged ridiculously well and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.

Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels. And the music has kept relevant. To steal a line from a review of our re-issue of Roots, when it comes to anything Nucleus “it’s basically already hip-hop”.

We'll Talk About It Later is arguably Nucleus's best album. Not only that, it's in the top 5 of all fusion albums. By the time Nucleus entered Trident Studios in September 1970 to record Elastic Rock's successor, they had already won a best group award at the Montreux Jazz Festival. Once again presented in a Roger Dean designed die-cut gatefold sleeve it continued to demonstrate the chemistry and interplay that worked so brilliantly on Elastic Rock; Carr's sumptuous trumpet and flügelhorn lines, Karl Jenkins's funk-filled electric keyboards, Chris Spedding's wah-wah guitar, Brian Smith's sax and the rhythmic foundation of drummer John Marshall and bassist Jeff Clyne.

The group work and insane musicianship Nucleus were famed for is in evidence from the off. The intensely funky "Song for the Bearded Lady" is absolute FIRE, blasting out the speakers to leave listeners floored. Counterpoint riffing segues into a spacious groove and a Carr trumpet solo demonstrating the influence of electric Miles from the period. The stop-start funk of "Sun Child" would appeal to Soft Machine devotees whilst the genuinely touching "Lullaby for a Lonely Child" is a lovely downtempo ballad. Featuring an understated, reflective horn line from Carr and Smith and atmospheric, shimmering bouzouki from Spedding, there's an exotic flavour which contributes to the bliss. The ominous, sleazy title track retains a swaggering menace and is not the only track to lend a sort of heavy stoner rock atmosphere. The guitars and bass are deep and low throughout, conjuring heavy psych moments to go with the actual jazz and even funk. To say this album was in conversation with Bitches Brew would not be overstating the sheer brain-frying brilliance.

The Weather Report-adjacent "Oasis" opens Side B, a colossal track featuring nearly 10 minutes of steadily building melodic horns, keys and choppy guitar riffs. So ace, it could easily go on for another 10. Mesmeric. Spedding adds unique vocals to the undeniable groove of "Ballad of Joe Pimp" whilst saxophonist Smith's duet with drummer Marshall at the conclusion of "Easter 1916" - inspired by the Yeats poem about the Irish nationalist uprising in Dublin - adopts the wildness of the most incendiary free jazz.

This Be With edition of We'll Talk About It Later has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Cicely Balston's cut at AIR Studios to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The stunning die-cut sleeve has been restored with the original gatefold window pane depicting the Irish uprising in 1916. Incredible, timeless, guaranteed spine-chills.

‘Where is Agartha? What is the specific region in which it lies? Along what road, through what civilizations, must one walk in order to reach it?.’ Saint-Yves d’Alveydre in 1886

Agartha, the debut full-length album by Japanese producer Wata Igarashi, is a mysterious, divine thing. Named for the mythical secret kingdom, understood as a complex maze of underground tunnels, perhaps designed by Martians who colonised the Earth tens of thousands of years ago, it’s a similarly mystical, perhaps even cosmic trip – but this time, exploring an inner, deeply personal cosmos. Beautifully detailed and bustling with rich incident, it takes Igarashi’s music to new places, which still retaining his unique sonic imprimatur; in this respect, it’s perfectly at home with Kompakt, a label that’s always encouraged artists to make the visionary music they need to create, to take risks and make sideways steps into uncharted territory.

An eloquent producer and DJ, Igarashi has been releasing techno for eleven years now, appearing on such imprints as The Bunker NY, Delsin, Midgar, and Time To Express; he has also self-released his productions via his WIP net label. Throughout, Igarashi has consistently explored his unique approach to techno and electronic music, one that’s eloquent and poised, even when it shifts into more psychedelic terrain; he’s a master at balancing the sensual and the functional, and he has an unerring ear for the right texture, the right tone, at the right time. He brings all of this into Agartha, his most thorough-going expression of self to date.

For Agartha, Igarashi had a strong concept he wanted to explore. Visualising specific scenes from an imaginary film based on the titular secret kingdom, he created soundtracks for those scenes, spending time during the pandemic in his studio, working away carefully at the ten tracks here. Given his background in creating music for television and advertisements, Igarashi is well-placed to explore the marriage of the sonic and the visual in such intimate ways, but freed from commercial concerns, he let his imagination run riot. He also drew on a rich palette of musical influences – techno is in there, of course, but you can also hear the smoky, improvised jazz of the likes of Miles Davis (to whom the album’s title is an indirect nod), and the minimalism and systems music of Steve Reich.

The latter is particularly pronounced on the gorgeous, beatless drift of “Floating Against Time”, where an arpeggiated sequence lingers, lovingly, around your ears for nine blissful minutes, coasting across swooning drones and waves of ambient noise. “Ceremony Of The Dead”, originally composed as part of a Sony 360 Reality Audio spatial sound concert, is a deep pass into systems composition, with various patterns overlaid and interlocking, before a wordless vocal rises from the depths, a gorgeous counterpoint to the swarming textures that gather across the track. On the other hand, tracks like “Burning” and “Subterranean Life” nudge toward Fourth World territory, painting deluxe dreamscapes of uncertain provenance; the title cut is an abstract drift-world, Igarashi painting an alien tableau dotted by shape-shifting creatures.

Agartha’s conceptual framework means that everything on the album sits perfectly together; listening to it in one sitting is a dizzying, lush experience. Its imaginings of inner landscapes recall, in some respects, the nautical, aqueous mythologies of the Drexciyan universe, though from different perspectives. But the result is Igarashi’s own creation, a deluxe, enchanting trip through the visionary Agartha of this unique producer’s cinematic mind’s-eye.

Wo liegt Agartha? In welcher spezifischen Region liegt es? Auf welchem Weg, durch welche Zivilisationen muss man gehen, um dorthin zu gelangen?'

Saint-Yves d'Alveydre im Jahr 1886

Agartha, das Debütalbum des japanischen Produzenten Wata Igarashi, ist ein geheimnisvolles, göttliches Ding. Benannt nach dem mythischen, geheimen Königreich, das als ein komplexes Labyrinth unterirdischer Tunnel verstanden wird, die vielleicht von Marsmenschen angelegt wurden, die vor Zehntausenden von Jahren die Erde kolonisierten, ist es eine ähnlich mystische, vielleicht sogar kosmische Reise - aber dieses Mal erforscht es einen inneren, zutiefst persönlichen Kosmos. Wunderschön detailliert und voller reichhaltiger Begebenheiten, führt es Igarashis Musik an neue Orte, die dennoch seine einzigartige klangliche Handschrift bewahren. In dieser Hinsicht hat es bei Kompakt ein perfektes Zuhause gefunden - einem Label, das Künstler immer ermutigt hat, jene visionäre Musik zu machen, Risiken einzugehen und seitwärts Schritte in unbekanntes Terrain zu tun.

Der eloquente Produzent und DJ Igarashi veröffentlicht seit elf Jahren Techno auf Labels wie The Bunker NY, Delsin, Figure und Time To Express; außerdem hat er einige Produktionen über sein Label WIP net selbst veröffentlicht. Dabei hat Igarashi stets seinen einzigartigen Ansatz für Techno und elektronische Musik verfolgt, der kontrolliert und ausgeglichen ist, selbst wenn er sich in psychedelisches Terrain begibt; er ist ein Meister der Balance zwischen dem Sinnlichen und dem Funktionalen und hat ein untrügliches Gespür für die richtige Textur, den richtigen Ton zur richtigen Zeit. All das bringt er in Agartha ein, dem bisher umfangreichsten Ausdruck seiner selbst.

Für Agartha hatte Igarashi ein starkes Konzept, das er erforschen wollte. Er stellte sich bestimmte Szenen eines imaginären Films vor, der auf dem titelgebenden geheimen Königreich basiert, und schuf Soundtracks für diese Szenen. Während der Pandemie verbrachte er Zeit in seinem Studio und arbeitete sorgfältig an den zehn Tracks. Mit seinem Hintergrund als Komponist von Fernseh- und Werbemusik ist Igarashi prädestiniert dafür, die Verbindung von Klang und Bild auf solch intime Weise zu erforschen, aber frei von kommerziellem Dünkel ließ er seiner Fantasie freien Lauf. Er schöpfte auch aus einer reichen Palette musikalischer Einflüsse - Techno ist natürlich dabei, aber man hört auch den rauchigen, improvisierten Jazz von Miles Davis (an den der Titel des Albums eine indirekte Anspielung ist) und den Minimalismus und die Systemmusik von Steve Reich.

Letzteres ist besonders ausgeprägt in dem wunderschönen, beatlosen "Floating Against Time", wo eine arpeggierte Sequenz neun Minuten lang liebevoll um die Ohren fliegt und über schwelende Drones und Wellen von Umgebungsgeräuschen gleitet. "Ceremony Of The Dead", ursprünglich als Teil eines Sony 360 Reality Audio-Raumklangkonzerts komponiert, ist ein tiefes Eintauchen in eine Systemkomposition, bei der sich verschiedene Muster überlagern und ineinander greifen, bevor sich ein wortloser Gesang aus der Tiefe erhebt, ein wunderschöner Kontrapunkt zu den wimmelnden Texturen, die sich über den Track legen. Andererseits bewegen sich Tracks wie "Burning" und "Subterranean Life" in Richtung der Vierten Welt und malen luxuriöse Traumlandschaften ungewisser Herkunft; der Titeltrack ist eine abstrakte Scheinwelt, in der Igarashi ein außerirdisches Tableau malt, das von formwandelnden Kreaturen übersät ist.

Der konzeptionelle Rahmen von Agartha ermöglicht, dass alles auf dem Album perfekt zusammenpasst; es in einem Zug durchzuhören ist eine schwindelerregende, opulente Erfahrung. Wata's Vorstellungen von inneren Landschaften erinnern in gewisser Hinsicht an die nautischen, wässrigen Mythologien des drexciyanischen Universums, wenn auch aus einer anderen Perspektiven betrachtet. Aber das Ergebnis ist Igarashis ureigene Schöpfung, ein luxuriöser, bezaubernder Trip durch das visionäre Agartha dieses einzigartigen Produzenten mit seinem cineastischen Blick.

Mattias Petersson debuts on the Swiss label Hallow Ground with »Triangular Progressions,« a suite in nine parts written entirely in the SuperCollider environment using additive synthesis. The starting point for the evocative piece is a magic number triangle that Petersson invented during his early composition studies and which has been an obsession of the artist for over twenty years, previously forming the foundation of many other of his works. By exploring the harmonic progressions found hiding within the triangle, »Triangular Progressions« at once emits a sense of introspective calm that fosters deep listening and evokes a whole spectrum of emotions, mediating between the abstract and the visceral.

The Stockholm-based Petersson, also known under the moniker Codespira1 and for his long-term collaboration with violinist George Kentros as There Are No More Four Seasons, has been active as a composer of computer music as well as an artist in the realms of live coding and modular synthesis for over two decades. Originally trained as a classical pianist, he also holds a diploma in electro-acoustic composition from the Royal College of Music in Stockholm, where he currently works as an associate professor. Besides his activities as a musician and teacher, Petersson is pursuing a PhD in composition at the Luleå University of Technology. Researching modular systems comprising both human and non-human modules, he is part of the GEMM))) Gesture Embodiment and Machines in Music cluster.

»Triangular Progressions« can be considered a perfect synthesis of Petersson’s academic interests and aesthetic ideas, combining a mathematical approach with artistic rigour. The magic number triangle highlights the beauty of symmetrical properties. By exploring its idiosyncrasies, the composer manages to translate them into engaging sounds. The lush melodies and harmonies of the music at times call to mind the intimate organ and drone works by label mates Kali Malone and Maria W Horn while also maintaining a unique signature sound. The addition of pure sinusoidal waves enables a deep listening exploration of the counterpoint between melodic and harmonic rhythms, chord structures and spectral harmonies that Petersson extrapolates from those magic numbers.

Sound Metaphors and Transmigration explore the early underground Goa party scene with a 2x12” compilation.

A collection of Techno, Italian-House, New Beat and Post Punk all heard on the same dancefloors amongst Goa's tropical beaches during the late 80's and early 90's. What is now understood as Goa Trance was once preceded by an amalgamation of many different genres smuggled to Goa in tape format by true music devotees that filtered through all that was being produced in the West shaping a unique dancefloor sound that could only pertain to the “Special Goa Music” genre. Sound Metaphors teams up with Transmigration and journalist, DJ and first hand witness of the scene at hand - Ray Castle – to present a meticulous body of research into the sound signature of that unique scene. 11 highly sought after tracks presented in a double LP gatefold format with an A1 poster insert and insightful liner notes by Ray Castle. A tracklist so lush, your discogs wantlists will forever be grateful – buy on sight.

“Everything about the Goa counterculture was illicit. The music from vinyl was bought with black market money and bootlegged onto cassettes and backpacked to India. Collectors and DJs would swap, dub and edit it, for free parties. The music was disseminated tape-to-tape by a clandestine traveller clique of ragtag party makers. This highly coveted ‘Special Goa Music’ contained a vibe—a brain-infesting vibe—capable of triggering apotheosis-like states for dosed up dancefloors, only possible for sunrise Goa parties in nature, in India.” - Ray Castle

Ten years ago, Parish Bracha anonymously released his Disconscious album Hologram Plaza, significantly influencing the still nascent Vaporwave scene. He continued producing a number of disparate anonymous projects until Cascade II was released in 2020 on Arca's Mutant Mixtape.

Cascades of Refinement, which includes the single Cascade II, is Parish's debut album released under his own name and his focus on the dialogue between the digital and the organic continues. The techniques that defined his influential early sound have been refined into a flawless hybrid of analog and digital textures which give his post-minimalist compositions an unmistakably personal expressivity.

Classical instruments are mutilated and transmuted into razor-sharp shards of glass suspended on piano wire above warped opalescent metal while never losing sight of their tonal integrity. Much like the impartial juxtaposition Parish employs in his timbral exploration, each composition explores the concepts of beauty and gentleness through and with extremity, violence, and chaos as equal counterparts, with each successive piece refining and relieving the artificial tension between these states. Employing use of the Una Corda, prepared piano, bowed piano, plucked piano, harpsichord, church organ, untuned violin, voice, synthesizers, and resampled field recordings, Cascades of Refinement lies somewhere in the indefinite space between acoustic and electronic and is beholden to neither.

Parish's initial electroacoustic experiments with piano and strings were interrupted by the pandemic lockdown when he was limited to sampled instrumentation and digital processing available on a computer. Out of this necessity evolved an appreciation for the incidental nature of digitally sampled acoustic instrumentation and the unpredictability of its interaction with digital signal processing.

As work on Cascades of Refinement continued and acoustic recording was reintroduced, the focus turned to the tension between recorded and sampled instrumentation, with the goal of integrating the two into a singular indistinguishable material to be warped and shaped together. Each of the four pieces of the Cascade series explore this tension, successively integrating and collapsing their distinction with each piece.

The subtle artifacts of digital processing and incidental mechanical sounds of the acoustic are amplified and given presence alongside the tonal elements of each piece until a point of indivisibility is reached. The sound of a bow scraping along a string or a granular buffer freezing are neither discarded nor hidden, but selected as the ripest material to accompany and structure each composition. Cascades of Refinement is a dialogue between organic and digital, between the mercurial and infinitely reproducible, not as opposites, but as mereologically cohabiting counterparts with equal expressivity.

The new album from hip-hop duo Atmosphere, So Many Other Realities Exist Simultaneously, opens with veteran rapper Slug and seasoned producer Ant taking a gentler approach. A departure from the brute intros of earlier works, the lead-off track “Okay” sounds focused on comforting and reassuring the listener, as if informed by fatherhood and implicit duty. With Slug rapping over one of the most twinkling productions Ant has released, the song lays the groundwork for an album-length exercise in fumbling consciousness without setting a precedent for how they intend to navigate it. Yet, as gently as the album begins, there’s an unmistakable sense of unease from the onset that continues to evolve throughout the project, as Slug and Ant weave the listener through indistinct themes of insomnia and woe.

From the subtle panic at the heart of songs like “Dotted Lines,” to the overt anxiety of songs like “In My Head,” the tension seems to cede and swell, but just as the tears begin to well, they seem to find resolve again through songs like “Still Life,” whose hopeful outlook undercuts the tensity of the album. Meanwhile, the rhythms on So Many Other Realities are some of the most inventive of Ant’s career. The playful percussion on “In My Head” acts as a nice counterweight to the roiling writing, while the drum patterns on “Holding My Breath” and “Bigger Pictures” allow Slug to play with his
flow to emphasize the anxiety driving the record.

Where previous records in this most recent act of Atmosphere’s career have been focused on emphasizing the parts of life that carry the most meaning—family, brotherhood, purpose—So Many Other Realities is an almost unnerving excavation of paranoia that can be grafted onto the general malaise of a pandemic weary society full of civil unrest. The tension of these songs is palpable, but the album’s mere presence is a testament to the hope that has to underpin even the most stressed out songs. Regardless of when the curtains might close, the music goes on.

Unreleased but perfectly formed "hidden" album, recorded in 1989-90 by Nuno Rebelo on the wake of his "Sagração Do Mês De Maio" double LP (composed in 1988 as soundtrack to the third Manobras de Maio fashion event in Lisbon). The tracks convey a sense of investigative curiosity regarding computer composition and they sound wonderfully artificial. Titles as "Moon OK", "Tiny Space Ships" or "Dança Das Creaturas Elásticas" ("Elastic Creatures Dance") embody this idea of otherworldness, a kind of music actually coming from another place, composed and played by elastic creatures. It displays the functional qualities of Library Music, illustrating playful as much as moody and dense moments. In this way the album comes across as a soundtrack for moving images, sure, but with unusual framing and sharp angles. A unique object in the Portuguese avantgarde, keeping its distance from Academia but also from contemporary independent releases ("Plux Quba" by Nuno Canavarro comes to mind). António Duarte's 2019 mastering enhances this collection of music liberated from the archives of one of the most brilliant, active and challenging musicians of his generation.

Nuno Rebelo was born in 1960, graduated in Architecture, founded Street Kids and Mler Ife Dada, played in the "transitional" line up of GNR in 1982. His creativity expanded into improvised music. Performances and recordings with other musicians multiplied. He composed music for theatre, dance, jingles and, on an almost contradictory scale to his underground credentials, soundtracks for the Expo 98 and Porto 2001 mega events.

“Improvisações Cristalizadas” by Nuno Rebelo:
Short electronic pieces composed in 1989-90 using the Atari 1040ST computer with Steinberg Pro24 Software, Two Yamaha Sound Modules (TX81ZX and TG55) and Ensoniq Mirage Sampler with keyboard. The composition method for each piece evolved from a short improvisation on the Mirage keyboard, recorded in MIDI to the computer. Counterpoint permutations (inversion, reversion, inverted reversion, transpositions) were then applied through the software, distributing the variations of the initial improvisation by other timbres. No other musical material was used.

It’s been a while since Toronto based Hi Bias Records and Crash Records left their indomitable mark on house music, and although not noted for being as musically productive as its North American counterparts of Chicago, Detroit, New York and Jersey, there is none the less a bubbling underground scene there, of which Brother Charles is at the vanguard of. Yogi literally stumbled across Charles on social media and called Roual up right away to make him aware of this prolific producer’s talent, and to explore the possibilities of a vehicle to drop Charles’ incredible, Afro, deep, soulful music on the street. Roual was in agreement with Yogi after viewing Charles’ numerous online videos, all of which feature Charles’ urban freestyle street dancing friends and his skater lovin’ crew too. Is it too early to compare Brother Charles’ deepness to the likes of Kerri Chandler, Larry Heard, Roland Clark, or Osunlade? We think not, and we believe that Toronto is ‘bout to be put back on the musical map, where it belongs.

Space Lady Recordings is a brand new label born out of an irrational musical passion harboured by two industry hardened cronies. Roual Galloway is the A&R man behind Cordial Recordings, was also one of the proprietors at Love Vinyl and he is a man with a wealth of knowledge in the vinyl and CD manufacturing business. Yogi Haughton has worked in A&R at several labels over the years, including one of the U.K.s first modern soul labels, Move Records, as well as numerous respected house labels. He is also one of the U.K.s most influential tastemaker DJs and a record producer, and a former scribbler at DJ Magazine (16 years).

Formed in the bygone barren period for British rock music that were the nascent
2010s, The St Pierre Snake Invasion have consistently shown themselves to be
an unapologetically creative force.
The long gap between debut album, A Hundred Years A Day (October 31st 2015)
and the release of underground sophomore smash Caprice Enchanté (June 21st
2019) was something the five- piece were reticent to repeat, but circumstance
beyond the Bristolians' control dictates that third LP, Galore, comes to us in a
markedly different world than the one in which St Pierre were building their
reputation and acclaim.
Sayell himself has been adamant that this latest offering would not be a COVID
album. He did not want it to address the ubiquitous isolation of global lockdown.
It immediately would date the record to a fixed point in time and not allow its
ideas to flourish and find a receptive audience for a continued period. Instead, the
changes represented in Galore are so fundamentally powerful and relatable to the
human condition. It is an album centered around universally resonant themes of
growth.
The summer of 2021 saw the birth of Sayell's first child. The concurrent writing of
the band's third LP has, naturally, been greatly informed by the experience of
impending fatherhood. Wondering about one's own impact on a life that you have
been a part in creating, the anxieties of what will be passed down to another
generation, and reflections on garnered wisdom with age; these are the key
themes that bring us to the band's magnum opus to date.
Alongside these introspective lyrics, the band's sound has taken on new life.
Where Carprice Enchanté was primarily informed by the musicality of Every Time
I Die, The Chariot, Refused and Mclusky, Galore builds on this framework by
incorporating influences as disparate as LCD Soundsystem, Soulwax and
Meshuggah into a coherent and daring whole. A song like That There's Fighting
Talk sees seething aggression taken to a mathcore nightclub, while the title track
and Apex Prey see the band exploring looser, quieter melodicism alongside Sang
Froid's Aisling Whiting, who brings a stake dynamic counterpart to Sayell in a
beautiful and captivating performance.
There are still tracks reminiscent of the band's previous work, such as
Submechano and Sleep Well - the latter featuring a sterling guest appearance
from Sugar Horse's Ashley Tubb - in which we hear the brash punk attitude St
Pierre's ever-growing fanbase adore. But ultimately, from the opening syncopated
notes of Pete Reisner's percussion and Sayell's distinctive vocals on Kracked
Velvet, it's impossible not to hear the palpable shift to another echelon of artis

Swedish drone alchemist Mats Erlandsson is sitting in a fictional room on ‘Gyttjans Topografi’, imagining a virtual chamber orchestra using zithers, tapes, double bass, harmonium, organ, and various synthesisers to draft a treatise on alternative tuning and non-normative harmonic structures. Transcendent material.

“The music on this recording is performed by a kind of fictitious chamber ensemble situated in an imaginary room outlined by textures that alternate between gestural foreground and passive landscape. The three pieces contained within this release are tied together by sharing similar harmonic material and instrumentation and could ideally be perceived as parts of one long performance stretching through the two sides of the record. The textural room in which this musical performance operates is unreliable, unstable, constantly shifting in size and activity from sparse and open to dense and claustrophobic. Inside this non-euclidean performance space a chamber ensemble made up of zithers expanded through analog tape transposition, harmonium and organ, double bass, digital FM, feedback-convolution and Serge modular synthesizer perform a music made from justly tuned intervals arranged in a way that blurs the distinction between traditional minor and major tonal harmony in favour of harmonic progression within an essentially modal framework.

‘Oxidationstabell för Hytta A’ unfolds the harmonic material slowly in three sections where individual lines move independently initiated by the attack of the zither while the textural properties of the room shifts and shimmers. ‘Törnar’ forms a dense harmonic counterpoint where lines built from the same intervallic relationships gradually shift the balance from one spectral focal point to the next while the textural-spatial elements move under pressure and permeate the harmonic layers. The double bass heard on this piece was performed by Yair Elazar Glotman.

The whole of Side B is made up of one piece - ‘Sänka’, using a series of chords made from harmonic inversions of a single set of intervals as an anchor, or synchronisation point, for voices gliding towards, or away, from their designated goal as parts of the harmonic structure of the piece. In addition to the harmonic and textural layers previously present, a third percussive voice is present here whose rhythmic material is intimately tied to the intervallic relationships present throughout the record.

The material used to make these pieces included non-harmonic sounds and contaminated field-recordings that have gone through a sort of feedback process between digital and analog, or acoustic, processing where the recordings were edited, processed and re-amplified and recorded again in acoustic spaces to shape their character and imprint acoustic identities on the recordings. The tonal instruments were treated in a process analogous to this - harmonic material built from recordings and digitally generated synthesis recorded, transcribed, rearranged and overdubbed again with additional electronic or acoustic instruments to form a composite electroacoustic instrumental sound.

Mats Erlandsson is a composer and musician, part of the vibrantly reemerging field of drone music in Stockholm, Sweden, associated with practices characterised by the extensive use of sustained sound. Erlandsson presents his work both as a solo artist and in collaborations, most notably together with Yair Elazar Glotman and Maria W Horn.

There's something intangible about Celeste, the Soundcarriers’ second album, originally released in 2010. It has a light, lucid quality, almost like driving exhausted through a strange city at night. Freeflowing yet tethered, dreamy yet attacking, the band continue the fight to reconcile competing impulses. Various threads just about keep the shimmering tapestry from tearing. Haunting folk melodies underpinned by rhythmic static and the physicality of the totally analogue recording and mixing, baroque keyboard counterpoints and sweeping arrangements. The opener “Last Broadcast” seems to encapsulate this but it's almost as if the album gets the angst out of its system with this track and is free to explore the quieter, less crowded back streets. After the smoke of “Last Broadcast” has cleared, the twisting road takes in the soft introspection of “Hideaway” and “Morning Haze”, both tracks morphing into heavy psyche grooves or the eastern tinged psyche funk of “Signals” and “Rise And Fall”. Or takes another turn with the tightly arranged opening segment of “Long Highway”. Somehow it still manages to fit in ‘60s pop gems like “There Only Once”. An album to really lose yourself in, yet more concise than the sprawling Harmonium and more relaxed and freeflowing than the nervy rush of Entropicalia, Celeste could be arguably their most indispensable album and not to damn it with faint praise, their most listenable.

Following in the footsteps of "Mind Palace" and "Lost Spirits", respectively issued in 2018 and 2021, Hidden Empire return to Stil vor Talent with their eagerly anticipated third studio full-length, "Momentum". Going the same route that came to define their sound throughout the years, Branko Novakovic and Niklas Schäfers cook a savvy mix of deep electroid flavours and prog techno magnitude which flourishes in the long-playing format. Orbiting the frontier between proper no-nonsense, floor-focussed effectiveness and a trademark exploratory take on electronics, Hidden Empire here delivers one of their most accomplished slices to date, which not only spans the largest span of their many-faceted influences, from tribal anchorage to hypermodern escapology, but breathes a truly epic wind into it.

Draped in luscious, silken envelopes and easternmost ambiences, "Dawn" gets the ball rolling on a mystique-imbued note, halfway meditation-friendly material and square-shouldered club busting wares. Moving into Afro-infused house grounds, "Modesty" finds Branko and Niklas heading for the deeper end of the spectrum, as they pull out a clinically precise blender of rattling percussions, opaque incantations, lush synth swashes and verbed-out machine talk, tailored for nightly boogie rituals in the forest. "Avalanche" opts for a more brooding, deadlier approach. Cutting its path away from prying eyes, this one finds Hidden Empire pulling the stealth weaponry to absolute hypnotic effect - perfect for serious in-between peak time business with its thick, thriller-like tension, mist-shrouded atmosphere and surgical focus. Featuring Felix Raphael on vocals, "Who We Are", is a pop-influenced chugger that perhaps best defines Hidden Empire's ambivalent style, both hi-NRG and innervated with a melancholy that infuses down to the bass and most functional elements. Geared up for big-room traction with its seesawing synths and clinical drumwork, Raphael's moving timbre does more than offer a sensible counterpoint to the track's overall sturdy backbone, it takes it to a whole other dimension completely.

"Repeat The Good" ft. Wolfson balances out a fast-ticking groove with those subtle melodic lines Hidden Empire champion to astounding vibrancy, offering a particularly satisfying glimpse into their vortical imaginarium, whereas "Last Call" has us journeying to straight out Moroder-esque territories, flush with the aptly configured palette of fuzzy space disco bass, fast-paced Italo churn and vocodized talk for good measure. All in breaks and chopped-up euphoria, "Vivid" runs the hoodoo down in muscular fashion and with impressive levels of energy throughout, all set at cranking up the heat one notch further, while "Rebel" provides us with the kind of rough-around-the-edges EBM horsepower and neon-clad synth engineering that'll get the basement in a state of alert. Encompassing all of the pair's idiosyncratic merger of styles - from pop-laced Italo to spaced-out techno wares, through jagged motorik and heavily mecched-out jacking house, "Alright" shows off Hidden Empire's wide arsenal of pyrotechnics under the most compelling of lights. A more openly jagged and quirky weapon that hatches into a full-fledged solar number around the half, "Momentum" roars up the club's highway at full throttle, proving a formidable asset when it comes to plunging dancers into a state of weird, left-of-centre euphoria.

A stroboscopic eclipse is predicted as "Dark Sun" enters the room, deploying its obscure wingspan over the ravers, not quite a bad omen as it lets more light in with every bar, its brittle piano lines and heart-wrenching vocals cutting a path into the crowd's pulsating hearts. Graceful as Hidden Empire's music can be, a moment of utter exhilarating beauty. "Savasana" wraps up the voyage with a pure slab of cyphered 4x4 seduction, as an ASMR-like voice guides us across the soul-questioning haze that blankets our pathway onto a luminous finale. A piece of elusive nature, clearly designed for the club and yet telling a tale of off-piste initiation through twelve fascinating movements, "Momentum" will undoubtedly etch on the listeners' mind as one of the German pair's most strikingly powerful emanations.

Download:
1. Hidden Empire - Dawn Interlude
2. Hidden Empire - Modesty
3. Hidden Empire - Avalanche
4. Hidden Empire & Felix Raphael - Who We Are
5. Hidden Empire & Wolfson - Repeat the Good
6. Hidden Empire - Last Call
7. Hidden Empire - Vivid
8. Hidden Empire - Rebel
9. Hidden Empire - Alright
10. Hidden Empire - Momentum
11. Hidden Empire - Dark Sun
12. Hidden Empire - Savasana
13. Hidden Empire & Felix Raphael - Who We Are (Instrumental)

UK Garage legends Groove Chronicles (Noodles & Dubchild) are back with the 'Soul 'N Mind' 12" featuring their highly sought after Brokenstep edits.
These have been on heavy rotation by the likes of Gilles Peterson, Charlie Dark, Bradley Zero, IG Culture and more. Limited hand-stamped and stickered copies, be quick!

Groove Chronicles have releases dating back to 1997 and are legendary in the world of UKG. Founded by Noodles, who is now working with longtime associate, Dubchild. Noodles has been working in the music game for three decades, from spinning at raves in Paris when he was 17, to serving it up behind the record shop counter, to running his own label, DPR. Responsible for bonafide classics like 'Stone Cold', 'Myron' & 'Poor Man's Break', his work serves as a blueprint for many sounds across the UK bass spectrum.

Leicester legend, Dubchild, stems from a musical background of reggae, hip hop, house, garage & jungle. He's released an array of dubstep & instrumental grime records through various labels since the early noughties, including Caspa's Storming Productions & Heavy Artillery, amongst others.

The duo also combine under the moniker Nu-Agenda with their own hybrid house style, and have had collective support over the years from stations such as 1Xtra, NTS, Kiss, Reprezent & Rinse, DJs such as Annie Mac, Zane Lowe, Mary Anne Hobbs & Ras Kwame, IG culture, Charlie Dark, Gilles Peterson, Bradley Zero, Marcia Carr, Afronaught and publications like iD, Fact, DJ Mag & Crack Magazine, to name a few.

First things first - you don't need me to tell you about the significance of Australia in the history of punk. I mean, what am I, Jon Savage? Google it yourself, FFS. Instead, let's just agree that the speedy, feral racket thrown together by the likes of The Saints, Radio Birdman and The Scientists in the mid-late '70s is AT LEAST as deliriously entertaining as anything concocted by their UK/US counterparts, sowing the seeds for seemingly endless garage-inflected noisemakers in the land down under. No one likes using words like 'tradition' or 'heritage' here - the punk rock clusterbomb is far too messy for any of that business - but also emerging from Australian rock's primordial soup is the addictive sneer of Stiff Richards. Like their predecessors, the band are a gleefully wracked mess of full throttle energy and barrelling power chords, with songs like 'Kids Out On The Grass' and 'Point of You' proving at least the equal of '(I'm) Stranded' or 'Aloha Steve And Danno'. Nine tracks in less than 30 minutes, all winners and all determined to leave you flipping over couches and smashing your TV set. And let's face it, you may as well; there's nothing good on. It all builds towards frantic closer 'Fill In The Blanks', which rattles around your speakers like the UK Subs trying to play Ed Kuepper riffs at the centre of an earthquake, before grinding to a halt as a voice says, "That's the one." Does it sound self-satisfied? Hey, it's got good reason to - this is the best no-frills garage rock party since Gino & The Goons' 'Do The Get Around', and the only appropriate response is to declare yourself betrothed to Stiff Richards because you can't imagine your life without 'em. Don't believe me? Sort out your ears and get 'State Of Mind' in 'em. Rock'n'roll as it's supposed to be played. Will Fitzpatrick.

Orange Vinyl
Kero & Steph’s landmark collaboration Syndrome now sees a sumptuous release on vinyl and evocative music video, spinning data into densely layered visual treats.

Steph’s coolly ethereal voice and poignant writing drift in harmonies atop the sliced-up, glitched, hard-hitting precision of Kero’s productions. The unforgettable directness of her compositional sense is here, as her long resume of scores and placements would suggest. It finds an urban-technological counterpart in Kero’s frenetic sounds. The DU label boss is in full force straight from the chilling post-pop of the opening titular cut. “Walk in the park” is a production masterwork, punchy organic percussion against grinding bass. “Who am I to complain” is at once arresting and vulnerable with vocals, but still packs an emotional gut-punch in the accompanying instrumental. “Count down from 7” is more stripped down and urgent, melodic hooks propelled by lo-fi rhythmic mechanism’s menace.

For the remixes, Oberman Knocks unleashes utter digital destruction - computer memory banks dropped through a wormhole. That thoroughly deconstructs Mtch into composite textures -- and opens “Walk in the Park” to near-unrecognizable, yet somehow danceable mayhem.

The new physical and motion elements find a visual language for these sonic strata of imagination and digital construction. From designer Christoph Grünberger, known for his tome The Age of Data: Embracing Algorithms in Art & Design, we get the packed outer sleeve and 2D design. These enshroud a calm-looking Steph in a Shibuya Crossing-style trip inside Defasten’s geometries, opposite a catalog of branching visualizations and glyphs.

Defasten, known for his live AV work fusing virtual reality and performance, here explodes faceted 3D cubes, in the cover and further in the music video. These pulsing crystalline hyper-geometries delve into data as expressive medium, shifting and vibrating with the glowing tones and crisp percussive hits of Kero and Steph’s composition. It’s a rare music video that matches the music in intricacy and form - a world that can only exist in virtual space, but that feels as immersively dreamy as the sound score.

“Sugar coated fabric … in braided covers” and “silver linings” were never so tempting.

Dismantling the acoustic to feed the electronic, Editions Mego presents Telepath, the new album by Material Object. Born out of a single improvised recording session with a lone Violinist, Telepath is a startling album of future electronic music, resulting in an LP of unique and timeless tracks that reimagine a classic sound for an endless future.

Boldly departing from his previous canon of largely 'ambient' work, Material Object's Telepath renders itself out as something much stranger, something more spacious, more subtle and gradual. Moments of bouncing minimalism meet moirés of delayed pure tones phasing in and out of resolution, giving way to a series of strobing foreground gestures arranged and offset in disorienting landscapes which scatter themselves asymmetrically amongst crystal pools of reverb.

Revelling in the creative dismemberment of the original source material, Material Object slowly and patiently induces the violin to undergo every category of torsion, pressure and rupture. Its vivid acoustic qualities pass over and across the event horizon of the digital domain. Shattering then crystallising into points and coordinates, intersections, disjunctions, planes and reverberant figures. An uncanny geometry perceived only between the ears, at once dissolving and reconstructing itself.

Not to be missed here is the essential, but bonus only, add-on (available with all Bandcamp purchases) "Auxiliary Apparition", a hallucinatory expanse that traverses the same liminal geography as the LP proper but as some refracted, ghostly counterpoint. More nocturnal, overpowering phantasms looming out of a droning noise floor before fading away. A hypnotic and time-dilated recapitulation of what's gone before as if looking back from beyond a mirror. When it finally resolves in the closing moments and returns you home, you realise you haven't really moved at all.

Equally abstract, haunting and daring, Material Object’s Telepath is a singular work that abandons all notions of genre. Erupting with a tension of opposites that unfolds as a truly unique story, told in four dimensions and draped in deafening colour.

Green Marbled Vinyl


Following up to his maiden transmission for the label, "Cosmic Silence", issued a year ago, Italian producer Alessandro Cozzolino AKA Cioz resurfaces on Stil vor Talent with his longed-for debut album "Supermassive Whole" - a ten-track cosmic odyssey in sound percolating staple elements of Cioz's palette of choice, from otherworldly techno to Latin-inflected house, via the obvious injection of kosmische and electronica soundscaping.

The lead single "Wachaka" - recorded in collaboration with Cape Town producer Ryan Murgatroyd, exemplifies Cozzolino's electrifying approach to a T. An inch-perfectly balanced mix of Afro-infused polyrhythmic bravura and seesawing synth moves, the track swells with a blazing fire at heart that keeps on sprawling infectiously with each and every bar. Trading the linear buildup for most sensuous levels of syncopation, "Me Monkey" serves up a warmer kind of funk, perfect for getting snug and cozy before an avalanche of seesawing chords up the ante towards space-opera-esque amplitude. All in elusive sinuosity and processed machine talk, "Harakat" dwells the confines of wonky house templates and polyamorous EBM, while "I Always Wanted To..." goes the slo-burning, counterclockwise route, primed for languid moments in the alcove.

"B1" is perhaps the most spitting avatar of the Italian whiz's hybrid rolling-and-pounding rhythmic style, nicely embodying both its quirky, hip-swaying and fanfare-like percussive aspects. The ecstatically bouncy "Do It The Way You Feel" showcases Cioz's more rousing, floor-friendly facet with a killer combo of hi-octane electro dynamics, pop-rock motif'd hooks and slashing breaks taking the controls. The mood also happens to be melancholic at times, such as on the beautifully understated "Is This Real", which bridges the gap betwixt piano-house déjà-vu - here tweaked to distinctively soul-wrenching effect, and a prog buildup glossed under a thick sauce of FX, similar to that of "Sudpol Birgit"'s inflating saturation in the post-prod treatment. Somewhat brushed with balearic shades in mind, "Pace e Amore" follows a more classic curve, slowly veering off onto ambient-laced territories, while "Lost in Space" evokes a certain idea of gravity-defying plenitude through that ever intuitive and subtly arranged collage of tender wistfulness and endless attraction towards the groove, which defines Cozzolino's phraseology so fittingly.