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As trans-Atlantic alchemists pulling from a shared dialectic that somehow encompassed both postmodern deconstructionist tendencies and a delightfully subversive sense of poptimism, it’s easy to see how David Cunningham and Peter Gordon immediately hit it off upon initially meeting each other back in the late-1970s at the height of their youthful transgressions. Having initially worked together on the second Flying Lizards’ LP fourth wall, with its ingenious fusion of dismantled rhythms and rearranged melodies juxtaposed against the slyly sultry singing of Snatch’s Patti Palladin— with Gordon adding a few sprinkles of mischievous sax in the mix— it’s no wonder the collaboration would lead to further musical adventures.

Which leads us directly to the genesis of The Yellow Box. Embarking on a collaborative exercise in the structural repurposing of music as untethered puzzle pieces in need of rearrangement with no predetermined outcomes, the duo gave birth to a project that would see them move through both time and recording studios across Europe, taking nearly two years from 1981-1983 to complete. Enlisting the great Anton Fier on drums from The Feelies/Lounge Lizards nexus and John Greaves on bass from Henry Cow/Soft Heap lore to round out their dueling creative counterparts, the album would be something of a lost treasure until its eventual release on Cunningham’s Piano imprint in 1996.

Cinematic in scope, and filled with drifting drones, beautiful counter-melodies, eery minimalism, Kraftwerkian synthesizers, looped voices, skronky interludes, and other shifting undercurrents of sound, it was an album that utilized both a diverse array of expressive languages, as well as early sampling techniques and prepared instruments, well before most people were thinking in such expansive, integrated terms at the dawn of the 80’s. But such is life at the vanguard of new music. And one of the reasons that it likely sat on the shelf for so long before finally being released well over a decade later. Like a sparser, less groove-oriented version of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, or a more radical take on the experimental work of Can’s Holger Czukay, The Yellow Box stands at the crossroads of time and technology, fusing multiple strands of musical thought and compositional techniques into a disjointed whole that somehow still comes off as a conceptually complete record.

Now, here it is again, over 40 years later, with perhaps even more historical resonance than it had before, remade and remodeled just waiting to be rediscovered again.

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.

Los Angeles-based duo LUCKYANDLOVE are back with their third album, evoking a new sense of art school originality, following their critically acclaimed “Transitions” album. The duo defines 'Humaura' as the atmosphere that emanates from the feelings of the human spirit void of technological control.

Blending raw analog synth sounds with driving punctuated percussion and punchy analogue bass, LUCKYANDLOVE’s music is shaped by the embers of Siouxsie and The Banshees and Bauhaus, resonant spectres carry over from synth-laden galaxies, where the needle hits the vinyl groove and Doc Martens marched to basement dance floors.

LUCKYANDLOVE is the raw sonic experiment of Loren Luck and April Love, whose music transcends genres. Their live analogue synth beats, Moog instrumentation and beautiful, harmonic vocals trigger an immediate download of fuzzy sunset synthgaze, blue-black neon darkwave, and tigerprint electro punk.

“‘Humaura’ is an action-packed, cinematic, entertaining and soulful electro-dance record full of fresh air and wide-open roads where there is more freedom to party, to be in nature, and to be our wild selves,” says April Love.

Fusing together pulsating molten kicks, abrasive fuzz-laden analog synths and sensual vocals, the anti-tech angst anthem ‘I Am Human’ is a call to take back our lives, underlining the need to reconnect with being Human before it’s too late. ‘Lonely at Night’ is a "last call" bar track about the desperate, frantic desire for human connection, building from a haunting sense of isolation to a fast-paced, climactic reunion with a crush. Elsewhere, this album features enchanting lyrics rooted in emotions from melancholy and sorrowful glom to a state of blissful trance.

This album was recorded, mixed and mastered for digital release by Grammy award-winning engineer Be Hussey (Modern English, Twin Tribes, Boy Harsher) at Balboa Studio and Catwater for the digital music, and mastered for vinyl and lathe-cut by Grammy-nominated engineer Nicholas Townsend (Weezer, Grimes) at Townsend Mastering.

Their 'Lucky + Love' and 'Transitions' albums having earning them a global fan following, US and UK tours, multiple tracks featured in the indie hit film 'Tiger Within' (Ed Asner's final performance), and wide acclaim, noting their “soulful, synthesized sound" (LA Weekly), “spectral synths and dazed-dreamy feeling” (Big Takeover Magazine), not to mention their "uncompromising and inventive sonic experiment” (The Spill Magazine) and sound that “oscillates between the asphalt synth streets & interstellar outer realms” (Impose Magazine).

LUCKYANDLOVE’s visceral, dark electro-pop appeal continues to stretch through time and space. Praise for the album’s lead track ‘I am Human’ have poured in from over a dozen countries. ‘Humaura’ promises to cement the duo’s reputation as one of America’s most vivacious electronic / synthwave acts, positioning them firmly within the lineage of artists like Phantogram, Ladytron, The Soft Moon, Twin Tribes and ACTORS.


‘Humaura’ Press:

“...In contrast to its synth-laden darkwave and electropunk sound, the song presents lyrical themes of championing the human spirit and emotions over the technological void" ~ Regen Magazine

“Moog textures and distorted synth tones weaving together like electric currents. An industrial edge that carries a dreamy undercurrent, nodding to darkwave, punk rock and post-punk influences without sounding dated" ~ Myth of Rock

"Every second and note is a meld of lava-esque incitement and beguiling melodic fixation and a breath to unpredictability and stirring fuzz hued uniqueness… a thrilling encounter" ~ The Ringmaster Review

"Layers fall into place and give rise to soaring vocals. The beautiful timbre of her voice sits over the landscapes of sound and reveal poignant lines that hit home." ~ Sound Read Six

Plastik People's limited series hits double figures with a personal collection of standout tunes from label boss Marc Cotterell, including a licensed remix originally released through Defected Records that made a big impact last year and is now finally available on vinyl. Alongside that is the much-loved trumpet track, which is perfect for sunny outdoor dances, and a massive remix by Mikey More & Andy Tee from Groove Culture. Rounding out the release are two more quality tracks that showcase the artist's range and sound - the shuffling garage undercurrent of 'Searching For Your Love' and deep garage-house bounce of 'Get To It'.

Belgian singer-songwriter Emma Hessels releases her debut EP 'Constant Distance' on October 24 via Unday Records. With a voice that lingers long after the song has ended and lyrics that feel like pages torn from a diary, Hessels has quickly carved out her place in the Belgian scene. She was named laureate of Sound Track in 2023, went on to play intimate yet arresting sets at Ancienne Belgique, Botanique, and the prestigious Cirque Royal, and appeared at Best Kept Secret this summer.

Milestones that signaled the arrival of a singular new voice in folk and soul.

'Constant Distance' gathers six songs bound by a recurring undercurrent: the presence of distance in its many forms - absence, longing, loneliness, the fear of loss, but also the desire for belonging. The songs weren't conceived around a single theme, but when brought together, a pattern revealed itself. Loss implies distance, longing implies distance, even love can. Yet the EP closes on 'Breaking', a gospel-tinged anthem of connection and alignment, written during a women's writer's retreat where community and music became inseparable.

Musically, 'Constant Distance' moves between folk and soul, carrying the feel of modern blues and occasionally leaning into gospel's call-and-response. The atmosphere is warm and nostalgic, drawing inspiration from Laura Marling, Damien Rice and Big Thief as much as from Aretha Franklin, Nina Simone and Richie Havens. Emma's voice remains the constant thread: soulful, unforced, quietly commanding. "I hope my songs can be like a warm blanket, something that keeps you company, that makes you feel a little less alone."

Though written solo on guitar, often during long train rides, the songs expanded into layered productions through collaboration with Aram Santy, Nard Houdmeyers and Fender Mackenson Rooms, with additional contributions such as Marthe van Droogenbroeck's evocative trumpet. Recorded over two intense days at Studio Beertje, the EP captures both intimacy and expansiveness. The result is music that carries the weight of Emma's fears and questions, but also the joy of collective creation.

With 'Constant Distance', Emma Hessels doesn't just deliver a debut - she opens a world where fragility and strength coexist, and where music becomes a way of closing the gap between people.

Some things simply need time to brew. Loek Frey returns to Omen Wapta with his third release on the label: Nayan. The Amsterdam-based artist shares a long-standing friendship with label head Woody92 - keeping each other in motion as artistic peers since the label's inception. Over time, they've built a shared archive of material: sound sketches, tracks, and sonic touchpoints - an ever-evolving third space where their paths continue to meet as they move in parallel. Nayan emerges from this deep-rooted exchange: a distilled six-track release that fuses Frey's cerebral intricacy with the label's primordial uncanniness, reaffirming both as key voices in a yet-to-be-defined sonic realm. Diving into the release, Frey's signature remains intact - tactile, spatial, and rhythmically precise - but a subtle shift is at play. A paring down. A move toward something more reduced, maybe even more patient, yet no less absorbing. The A side leans inward: deep pressure, spectral traces, and an undercurrent of tension that never quite resolves. It's music for staying with, not escaping from. Flip to the B side and the palette widens - kicks land heavier, patterns loosen, textures fill the full frequency field. Still deeply rooted in the Wapta world, but with an assertiveness that whispers rather than shouts. Somewhere between absence and force. With Nayan, Loek Frey carries his Omen Wapta narrative into new territory - merging restless experimentation with dancefloor intention.

Students of Decay presents The Dip, a new full-length recording by Berlin-based artist and composer Thomas Ankersmit, marking his debut with the label and sixth album to date. Comprised of two expansive, sidelong pieces composed entirely on the Serge Modular synthesizer, it signals a subtle yet significant shift in Ankersmit’s trajectory, imbuing the hyper-physical, psychoacoustic intensities of his live performances with introspective, atmospheric, and even melodic elements.

Primarily known for a site-responsive approach to sound, often realized in the moment of performance, Ankersmit’s turn toward the studio in the last few years has opened up a new dimension within his practice. It is in this quiet rupture that The Dip emerged, a study in internality and suspended states, rich with cinematic undercurrents and ghostly spatial suggestion. Here, electricity itself feels transfigured – becoming supple, even organic – within an environment shaped entirely by analog signals.

Over the past two decades, Ankersmit has established himself as one of the foremost practitioners of the Serge, the notoriously idiosyncratic and expressive instrument that has remained central to his work. On The Dip, he harnesses its potential not for brute force or disorientation, but for spaciousness, resonance, and lyrical abstraction. Without resorting to additional processing or effects, he draws out tones that feel simultaneously raw and refined, articulated and blurred – intricate structures that seem to breathe and evolve of their own volition.

The result is a kind of auditory hallucination, a “cinema for the ears,” wherein impressions, emotional arcs, and imagined topographies unfold. Each side of The Dip plays like a single gesture unfolding in time – a spatial narrative constructed through vibration, density, and the movement of air.

The Dip follows acclaimed works on PAN, Touch, and Shelter Press, and reaffirms Thomas Ankersmit’s position as one of the most focused and probing voices in contemporary experimental music. Quietly radical and meticulously constructed, it is less a departure than a deepening – a descent into a more private sonic world, where the boundaries between perception, memory, and pure signal dissolve.

The quietest voices can be the most durable.

American Football’s original triumph, on their 1999 self-titled debut, was to reunite two shy siblings: emo and post-rock. It was a pioneering album where lyrical clarity was obscured and complicated by the stealth musical textures surrounding it.

Like Slint’s Spiderland, or Codeine’s The White Birch, even Talk Talk’s Laughing Stock, American Football asked far more questions than it cared to answer. But there wasn’t a band around anymore to explain it, anyway. The three young men who made the album – Mike Kinsella, Steve Holmes, and Steve Lamos – split up pretty much on its release.

Fifteen years later, American Football reunited (now as a four-piece, with the addition of Nate Kinsella). They played far larger shows than in their original incarnation and recorded their long-anticipated second album, 2016’s American Football (LP2). The release was widely praised, but the band members still felt like their best work was yet to come.

‘I feel like the second album was us figuring it out,’ says Nate. ‘For me, it wasn’t quite done. I knew there was still more.’

Enter American Football (LP3). ‘We put a lot of time and a lot of energy into it,’ says Mike. ‘We were all thoughtful about what we wanted to put out there. Last time, it was figuring out how to use all of our different arms. This time, we were like – Ok we have these arms, let’s use them.’ The band used the same producer, Jason Cupp, and recorded the album at the same studio (Arc Studios in Omaha, Nebraska) as its predecessor – yet they approached it in a markedly different way. There was a determination to let the songs breathe, to trust in ideas finding their own pace. The final result is a definite, and deliberate, stretching of the band.

As a result, LP3 is less obviously tethered to the band’s past than the second album. An immediate contrast between LP3 and its two predecessors is its cover. The two previous albums featured the exterior and interior of a residence in the band’s original hometown of Urbana, Illinois (now attracting fans for pilgrimages and photo opportunities), by the photographer Chris Strong. But American Football knew that LP3 was an outside record. Instead of the familiar house, this time the cover photo (again by Strong) features open, rolling fields on Urbana’s borders. It is a sign of the album’s magnitude in sound, and of the band’s boldness in breaking away from home comforts.

American Football also joked that LP3’s genre was ‘post-house’, because of this very conscious visual break. But, in a strange way, there are links in LP3 with an actual post-house genre: shoegaze. The more exploratory members of the original British shoegaze scene were inspired by the dreamtime and circularity of house music (ambient house in particular), cherishing its sonic possibilities. That spirit drips into LP3, most obviously on ‘I Can’t Feel You’, a collaboration with Rachel Goswell of Slowdive.

The album also features Hayley Williams from Paramore on the album’s catchiest moment, ‘Uncomfortably Numb’, and Elizabeth Powell, of the Québécoise act Land Of Talk. Mike wrote lyrics in French especially for her.

LP3 is contemplative, rich, expressive, yet with a queasy undercurrent. It is heavy with expectancy, revealing its ideas slowly, eliciting the hidden stories people carry around with them. ‘I feel like my lyric writing has changed a lot over the years,’ says Mike. ‘The goal is to be conversational, maybe to state something giant and heavy, but in a very plain way. But, definitely in this record, I keep things a little more vague.’ As on the first album, the lyrics on LP3 may seem confessional and concentrated, but the more you scrutinize them, the further their meaning slinks away. Or, as Mike tellingly sings on ‘I Can’t Feel You”: I’m fluent in subtlety.

‘Somewhere along the way we moved from being a reunion band to just being a band,’ says Steve Holmes. American Football is now a bona fide ongoing focus, and they are making some of the best music of their lives. American Football (LP3) stands with two other rare reunion successes – Slowdive and My Bloody Valentine’s mbv – as a fine example of how a band refinding one another can augment, rather than taint, their legacy.

‘I think that there are those albums, or the music that you heard when you were younger, and they imprint on you,’ says Nate. ‘And no matter where you go, or what you do they’re always there.’ He is talking of Steve Reich – an early and ongoing influence on American Football – but he might as well be reflecting what is said of his own band, and the ardent following they inspire. American Football stands as an enduring symbol of elusive emotional landscapes, where introspection can be as dramatic as confrontation

Delving into the Great American Songbook of Howe Gelb, Sandworms is a new collection that rephrases and rephases the legacy of Giant Sand acrossgenerations. This release offers bold reinterpretations from Water From Your Eyes, Deradoorian, Jesca Hoop & John Parish, Lily Konigsberg, Holiday Ghosts, Ella Raphael, Monde UFO, The Golden Dregs, and Gently Tender. The ever-present Giant Sand and their one-man cerebral traveller, Howe Gelb, are anchored by a reputation for idiosyncratic storytelling. A "natural storyteller," Gelb's multifarious musical delivery adds an enduring sense of wonder as he extols the virtues of happenstance. This collection celebrates the esoteric and singular journey Giant Sand have taken, through alt-country, jazz, lo-fi experiments, and beyond, while their legacy is reimagined here by a new generation of artists paying tribute to their lasting influence. Brooklyn duo Water From Your Eyes, known for their stoner humour, fatalistic undercurrents, and art-pop flair, bring a delicate balance of punk riffing and dream-pop escapism to Warm Storm, first heard on Giant Sand's Ramp (1991). Whitney K takes on Happenstance (from 1994's Glum), unravelling its existential puzzles with a whispering baritone that recalls the hushed intensity of Leonard Cohen. Drifting further into orbit, Angel Deradoorian reinterprets Center Of The Universe, the title track from the band's 1992 album, transforming its desert-fried rock into a spaced-out Sun Ra-paced drama. Elsewhere, Yer Ropes, a jaw-dropping highlight from Glum, is taken on by The Golden Dregs, blurring sentimentality and relationship mismanagement into something truly strange and moving. A special collection for both long-time fans and the newly curious, Sandworms: The Songs of Howe Gelb and Giant Sand is released via Fire Records and includes liner notes from Dave Henderson (Mojo).

‘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.

Debut full length of old school DEATH METAL on a timeless warpath strewn with familiar and unknown terrors beyond.

Timelessly in the vein of Bolt Thrower, Nihilist, Entombed and Dismember where death takes bearing on the facade of life.

The ancient stench of war follows HEDONIST on their campaign of destruction!!

This four-piece old school death metal band hails from Victoria, BC, and brings forth a ferocious exhibition of power amidst morbid undercurrents of disaster.

Vines, the solo project of New York-based multi-instrumentalist and composer Cassie Wieland, offers a window into her inner world through expansive swaths of sound. She pieces together a celestial mix of synths, percussion, strings, and vocoded voice, making music that is at once deeply personal and cinematic in scope. This diaristic approach first took shape with her 2023 EP Birthday Party, and is crystallized on her debut LP, I’ll be here. With the sweeping and vulnerable I’ll be here, Vines arrives fully formed as an artist who crafts deeply resonant and open music–the kind that invites listeners in to listen, reflect, and share in the journey of learning through living.

“It was through making music that I was able to meet myself,” Wieland said. “Anything I’m going through or feeling is something that somebody else out there can relate to, and that’s really special to me.”

I’ll be here is both a culmination of years spent creating gossamer soundscapes and an opening to a new journey for Wieland as an artist. The album grew out of her years as a composer and songwriter, and builds on the language she developed on Birthday Party, which transformed the tumultuous feelings of the passing of time into minimalist meditations. It was just a start, though–a prologue, a development of the kind of language and ideas she wanted to express. With I’ll be here, she digs deeper and writes music that feels more sprawling, further solidifying her singular voice.

Wieland’s musical composition process is similar to journaling, lending itself to the music’s honesty. When she writes, she makes room for all the ideas she has; in these sessions, there are no wrong ideas, and she allows the music to be attuned to the experiences she’s having at the time. With I’ll be here, Wieland zeroes in on themes of anxiety, loneliness, navigating human connection, and having to grow up from a young age, ultimately coming to a place of acceptance. And though it began as a journal written in solitude, her collaborators shape the music with her.

Working with friends, in fact, was a crucial part of bringing the record to life. “Everything that was supposed to happen came together so easily because of the people involved,” Wieland said. I’ll be here was co-produced and recorded with Wieland’s longtime collaborator Mike Tierney, a four time Grammy-nominated engineer who has worked with artists across the contemporary classical and experimental scene like minimalist pioneer Steve Reich, LA’s preeminent classical ensemble Wild Up, and various bands on Bang on a Can’s Cantaloupe Music label. Percussionist and composer Adam Holmes and violinist Adrianne Munden-Dixon are two other longtime collaborators who are frequent fixtures of her live show. Holmes plays synths, drums, and banjo; in live settings, his kit is loaded with elements of the songs that are then triggered by MIDI, making the music an interactive, evolving experience. The album’s gentle, filamented edges are colored by Munden-Dixon, whose poignant string melodies elevate Wieland’s introspective compositions, as well as cellist Helen Newby, saxophonists Julian Velasco and Jordan Lulloff, and bassist Pat Swoboda.

Wieland takes an economic approach to writing music, building the swirling and immersive landscapes of Vines through short melodies, lyrics, and phrases. As each element layers and interweaves, they grow into sprawling webs of ghostly sound. Prior to Vines, Wieland composed pieces for other people to play using a minimalist’s sensibility, writing slowly unfolding melodies for instruments like violin and saxophone. In recent years, she sharpened her solo style across a variety of singles and covers which have garnered significant attention on social media for their emotional resonance (“being loved isn't the same as being understood” in particular went massively viral on TikTok in 2024). Birthday Party, her debut as Vines, brought her writing to a much more intimate space, centering on her vocoded voice cloaked in feathery reverb. A series of recent singles, meanwhile, including “I am my home,” showcase the way that Wieland’s music is born from the story of her innermost feelings, extending far beyond just the self.

Though Wieland’s music often deals with dark themes, it unfolds with tender melancholy, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. On “Evicted,” Wieland wonders if she’s getting sick or moving on, if she’s lost or found. Her vocals expand with each lyrical repetition, as the instrumentals slowly encircle and the music’s rhythm grows and bursts into a heart-wrenching, yet radiant wave reminiscent of post-rock bands like Explosions in the Sky. “Tired” follows a similar trajectory, building from a looping, melancholy rhythm and floating lyrics into a solemn resignation. Elsewhere, Wieland takes a more ruminative approach: “Omw” begins with twinkling piano and melancholy strings that gradually transform into an undulating mass. It is a song born out of the warm feeling of reminiscence, the slight return of hope that comes with nostalgia.

With any searching journey, there is also a point of understanding. The title track closes the album with the freedom of acceptance. A marching drum beats steadily beneath Wieland’s open vocals, moving forward, ever onward as it flies into the ether. In Wieland’s delicately textured music, there is room to come into yourself, and learn to love whomever that is. I’ll be here is a special space that can be all your own, one in which to feel what needs to be felt. “This is music for your story,” Wieland said. “I want you to use it how you need it.”

Turning heads with their unique blend of garage, psych, punk rock Bad Bangs played across notable festivals and club shows throughout a 23 show run in 2024. Making waves at Left of The Dial (NL), Leffingeleuren (BE), Truenorayo (ES) and Gliding Barnacles Festival (PT) Bad Bangs make a charging return to the 2025 European Summer festival circuit. Their 2024 sophomore release Out Of Character was the first offering since their debut album Character Building. Somewhere between punk and country, folk and psych, Bad Bangs find themselves Out Of Character. The Melbourne based outfit's sophomore album bends across genres to form a unique soundscape of their own. Live tracking with the masterful Paul Maybury (Cash Savage & The Last Drinks, The Murlocs) captured the bands enigmatic live energy, whilst mastering by Jim Diamond (Ghetto Recorders, The White Stripes, The Dirtbombs, The Gore Gore Girls) secured the signature gritty sound of Bad Bangs. The album arrives with the punchy, punk-laced opening track Contest, which questions the fabric of an industry hell bent on image and conformity, and concludes with the psych infused Wild Mess which laments the shifting state of the natural world. Themes of social and environmental unrest swirl in the undercurrent of an album reflecting on immediate frustrations and personal reflection. With a staple cult following in their hometown of Melbourne, Bad Bangs have supported a high caliber of contemporaries over the years such as Shannon and The Clams, The Murlocs, Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever and Chastity Belt. Bad Bangs Out Of Character is set for re-release through Beast records (FR) and locally released via Blossom Rot Records (AU&NZ) (Snowy Band, Cassie Ramone and more) Bad Bangs are part of Ya Ya Yeah's booking roster throughout EU. Bad Bangs members are Shelby De Fazio, Tim Ryles, Sophia Lubczenko and Gab Portocarrero.

Lars Huismann drops fourth essential release on Mutual Rytm with 'Catharsis', following his successful 'Sounds From The Past' trilogy.

German producer Lars Huismann has a percussive and groove-driven take on techno that often comes with scintillating melodies and separates him from others amongst the genre. His releases have come on labels such as Dolly and Soma; however, he has also quickly become an essential member of the Mutual Rytm family, having contributed to the label's 'Federation Of Rytm III' VA as well as serving up a trio of forward-thinking EPs in the form of his 'Sounds From The Past' trilogy. Delivering yet more stellar material on SHDW's thriving imprint, his latest EP delivers the newest evolution in his sound while maintaining his signature sonic essence.

The hunched techno funk of 'Divergence' kicks off with plenty of plenty up energy and tight, bouncy synth vamps, while 'Portal' goes deep into a futuristic landscape with static-laced synths and oversized hi-hat ringlets that ramp up the pressure. The mighty 'Neural' is brilliantly functional and linear techno with a playful synth that rides up and down the mix as the sleek and slamming drums race onwards. 'Riot' brings some extra raved-up madness with serrated synths and raw percussive energy, and 'Technician' then slips into a deeper, more paired back sound with liquid synth lashing about the mix as dubby undercurrents power along the punchy rhythms and freaky vocals bring the menace. Digital bonus cuts 'Incognito', a fizzing, busy, textured techno workout, and the machine soul of 'Submerged' close out this high-grade EP in style.

A decade has passed since Infinity Night graced Bordello A Parigi with his wonderful Winter and Summer EPs. After too long a wait, the French producer returns with the aptly titled Le Temps Qui Passe. Six slices of select synthesizer music make up the 12”, tracks lovingly crafted with Frederic Bergamaschi’s trademark analogue warmth. A melancholic melody meanders through brightness in “Tu Ne Me Réponds Pas”, dulcet words hidden under the machine gauze of a vocoder. Skittish percussion gives way to the refrain of “It’s Full of Stars”. Hazy keys appear as an arpeggiator rumbles below a shimmering sky. “Les Souvenirs De Valerie” picks up where its predecessor left off. Astral notes are beamed into the heavens, echoing into the while crisp cymbals tether the piece. Infinity Night has always sought that point of balance in his music, a bittersweetness he accentuates and explores. This is true in the darker shades of “Nymphomania”. Beats are bolstered, key stabs piercing the tenderness of analogue trills. The title track is a rich patchwork. A burbling undercurrent supports forays into diverse tangents with lyrics surfacing through key shifts and sliding scales. Marching to militaristic rhythms, “I Comme Icare” is the curtain call. The stringent drums are broken by sailing synthlines, vocals masked in a familiar mesh to close. Le Temps Qui Passe, well worth the wait.

The Ottawa composer/performer and head of Black Bough Records plays every instrument on his CST debut: an accessibly avant-garde work of dark/ambient modern chamber music. Mark Molnar has been a linchpin of the Ottawa experimental music scene for over two decades, spanning contemporary classical, electroacoustic, industrial/noise, and improv. As a string player in a wide range of projects, an organizer and curator of innumerable shows, and via his own avantgarde label Black Bough Records, Molnar's unflagging contributions to independent music culture in Canada's capital city have been significant. EXO is his Constellation debut: a remarkable and bracing suite of post-classical composition on which Molnar plays every instrument. Meticulously self-recorded, primarily with strings, harp, and piano, EXO balances thematic melodicism, polytonality, and dissonance across three elegiac pieces of exquisitely expressive dynamism. This is exacting modern chamber music that blends formal and harmonic complexity with a solemn emotive sensibility accessible to a broad audience. Listeners that yearn for some edge and disquietude in a landscape of often all-too-approachable post-classical music should find EXO eminently worth their time and attention. While Molnar is a highly trained string player, and studied music under Aubrey Wolfe, microtonality with James Tenney, and composition with R. Murray Schafer, his trajectory has been entirely and intentionally outside the academy, signalling a socio-artistic commitment to DIY culture, forged from an early passion for the sonic worlds of post-hardcore, post-punk, no-wave, free improv, power electronics, and other independent/underground musics. His classically-informed works have been described as "tense currents of musical modernism invigorated with punk's raw vitality." EXO carries an undercurrent influenced by dark industrial and ambient metal in particular, with microphones purposely placed to pick up the low-end frequencies of the piano body, and of a bass drum positioned as a resonant skin in the acoustic space; an electroacoustic strategy organically meshed to the crisply defined and pristinely recorded pointillisms and polychords of strings, harp, and piano, which feed into this noisefloor of crepuscular sub-bass disquietude and decay. It's a production aesthetic that lends EXO a distinct undertow of tension and feeling, a sort of roiling maximalism where the chamber instrumentation traces arcs and waves of form and flow as if drawn from a dark, impervious ocean below. It also reinforces the profound hermeticism of Molnar's process, as a forbiddingly solitary creative act of immersion and navigation. The album artwork, featuring semiabstract stills of the sea by British photographer Ed Allen, further reifies this metaphor. The album's opening piece 'Sub Luna' (and its shortest at 8 minutes) showcases Molnar's adeptness at naturalistic and flowing complexity: tight cascades of climbing and descending chordal clusters hold their polytonal densities for various durations, yielding to more clarified harmonic suspensions and motifs, as melodic themes led primarily by violins in the higher registers provide a fractured lyricism. Molnar says: "the opening and closing figures of this piece act as opposing shorelines; the shorelines provide a reliable expression of range and key signature, and the tides come in and swallow them up, the motion of a body that addresses the relationship between states of lucidity and melodic figures." On 'Terre Sacer' everything happens in soupier waters, as a slow and doleful theme, anchored by grinding bass notes, circles in a gyre of dark resonances, until glistening strings gradually ascend to enrobe a plaintive and gently harrowing single-voiced ostinato over the composition's final third. Molnar's drone, ambient, minimalist, and goth-industrial influences are on display here. Side Two of EXO features the 18-minute multi-movement 'pallida Mors' (pale death): a waterfall of heterophony introduces dense chordal movements where strings are recorded and mixed to evoke pipe organ, in the album's most overtly dissonant and (anti)liturgical sequence. This gives way to ever more open and fragile spaces, before a resurgence of dark clusters and noise treatments introduces a final repeating piano coda, shrouded in devastated bass resonance, settling into what Molnar calls "a meditative hollow." Constellation is honoured to release this work by Mark Molnar, a longtime fellow-traveler whose selfless and boundlessly generous activities as an independent arts enabler sometimes obscure his own accomplished and uncompromising artistry. We trust EXO can help shed some much deserved light on this fine composer. Thanks for listening.

Drag City and Yoga Records are delighted to return to the music of Matthew Young. Following Recurring Dreams (1981, reissued 2014) and Traveler"s Advisory (1986, reissued 2010), Undercurrents (2025) collects eight oddly dissimilar pieces that somehow fit together perfectly. Ranging from heady synthesizer experiments to earthy dulcimer meditations, Undercurrents is unique enough to be called outsider while still occupying a musical world accessible to fans of many genres. Composed and recorded over the span of several decades, Undercurrents displays the wide range of Young"s various sonic pallets: similar to Recurring Dreams, the electronic landscapes meander coherently, and much like Traveler"s Advisory, the album skews from the nearly algorithmic computer music of side one to the moving pastoral folk of the second.

2023, past and future merge into one. Stripped of temporal markers, today's artists unabashedly draw from the past while boldly gazing into the future. Amid revivals and

innovations, trends and undercurrents, the game is intricate, the nuances abundant. Orphia's music is no exception. Behind the synthesizers, the Genevan weaves a musical tapestry on a tightrope. Cold wave, synth-pop, post-punk, eurodance, Indochine, Depeche Mode, Boards of Canada, Eurythmics... it all blends in a grand synthetic ritual where the festivities happily don't stop at the first light of dawn. Charging forward, swiftly, strongly, into an uncertain future, no questions asked but with a quick glance in the rearview mirror, just to be sure.

"L'Aventure des Gens Modernes" resides in this retro-futuristic melancholy, between nostalgia and a thirst for tomorrow. Without ever falling into foolish nostalgia or soulless revival, the EP reflects an absolute urgency. Urgency to produce, first and foremost, as studio work has become a true raison d'être for Orphia. Urgency to also shout out a certain rage against a world devoid of hope, and this on stage where the artist performs alone, synths in hand and sharp beats for the dancefloor. In an era where the past enables facing the future, the 5 tracks of "L'Aventure des Gens Modernes" breathe a breath of fresh air into a scene in ruins. Cyberpunk or punk in general, Orphia wants to go fast and take everything in its path.

The East Sussex three piece take a sidestep to their country punk debut. The revamped sound is gritty and raw, with basslines that rumble with unfiltered intensity and drums that drive each track with pounding, relentless energy. The dark twang elements have not disappeared but if you break the surface you will find a restless undercurrent of electronic rhythms, adding complexity and tension. Andrew J Davies’ baritone vocals help answer the question you never knew you needed to ask. What would Lee Hazlewood guesting on a Leftfield track sound like?