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R.M.F.C. sound like? Let’s stay with the overused descriptors – I think R.M.F.C. is rock music band, more specifically a post-punk band. Indulge me. If you could say anything about post punk it means post-Wire, who were past punk before punk had an opportunity to codify and become everything brilliant and stupid that we’ve spent 40 years unpacking. Wire’s opening Pink Flag jab – Chairs Missing straight – and 154 hook knockout has haunted the mixing desks of ambitious post-punk bands since, and every major city in the western world has at least one Pink Flag band, one Chairs Missing band, one 154 band. Few bands manage to sound like all 3 records, but R.M.F.C. are a Rock Music Fan Club...

Anyone paying attention to underground Australian guitar overdose would relate: the R.M.F.C. Club Hits LP has been the culmination of five years of work, patience and discipline. If you’ve heard these songs live at any of their shows over the past couple of years you’ll understand – the wait is over and the result is exhilarating.

‘Bands like Devo, The Fall, and The Birthday Party have set the way for this type of post-punk rock (all in their own way). Surely, also, the rock scenes of the past fifteen years in Australia have also been influential. Thinking of bands like Royal Headache, Dick Diver, and Eddy Current Suppression Ring, there’s even been a fairly recent tradition of expanding styles of rock and roll (let alone the bigger, famous rock-centered acts). The Sydney based R.M.F.C., and the scene (or friend circle) from which it’s emerging, is carrying a torch of rock music which has the potential of a wider appeal.’ - POST-TRASH

Following a strong debut, the Uruguayan label EviternoRecords returns with its second release, Teknovela, bringing together Molen and Nico Lampariello, two of the most talented poducers from the new generation of Uruguay’s electronic scene. Across four carefully crafted cuts, the EP expands the label’s vision through music that is equally instinctive and deliberate. Built around hypnotic movement, subtle tension and refined groove, Teknovela unfolds with patience, inviting listeners into an evolving journey where every detail serves the dancefloor without sacrificing depth or personality. The A-side finds Nico Lampariello exploring darker and more introspective terrain, weaving resonant basslines, shifting atmospheres and understated melodic touches into compositions that gradually reveal their emotional weight.

At The B-side Molen delivers two tracks driven by fluid rhythms, intricate spooky melodies and mysterious textures with a constant sense of forward motion. Rather than contrasting one another, both artists meet at the same destination from different directions. Together, the four tracks form a cohesive statement that captures the spirit of contemporary underground house and techno: immersive and built to leave a lasting impression.

The unconscious element to the conscious process.

The practice of dub techno and its tendrils is a fundamental for me, both aesthetically and from an engineering perspective.

I start every recording session with a dub inspired jam, the first piece I ever recorded in 1996 was an effort to recreate Phylyps Trak with only a Korg X3 and an Ibanez PUE5 (borrowed from Gary Howell). It was an awesome introduction to jamming, and the footing stones of noise, delay and saturation were explored with my foot hard on the enthusiasm pedal.

These practice jams are in some sense cathartic, the first step taken again & again, which helps me move forwards each session and additionally helps to 'warm the circuits' both of myself and the machines.

After realising the genius of Basic Channel is akin to the genius of peasant food, using every ingredient with nothing left to waste, (up to and including the oft maligned working noise of the machines themselves), this was a watershed moment for my own subjective progression. No longer tied to just emulation of something inspiring, but taking these learned tools into other areas of music helped to break free from a strong current of influence and also to progress into other areas with the new toolbox.

Dub:

The importance of the dub pioneers should never be understated, in modern music and my own practice. Yet with my initial inspiration being two german dudes issuing extreme techno variants with obscured label designs, who then signposted their listeners to their own inspirations (via their Wackies re-issues or nodded to on their Rhythm & Sound/Burial Mix sub-labels), meant that I started late and travelled backwards.

Learning to notice the live mixing of Mikey Dread or Lee Perry when the faders are bleeding through even when turned down, (echoed in BC's Quadrant Dub), or the brash send effects literally thrown into the mix also taught me that 'rough' mixing can inject a recording with life, uniqueness and the most right wrongness. Looking back Basic Channels very few elements helped me realise that the rules to be understood, are also the best ones to be broken.

Push the mixer into the red.

Amp that noise up from the tape delay cos it sounds sick.

Pseudo side-chain effects cos the kicks are way too loud and the mixer can't sum it nicely.

Spam the send knob into the delay units now, now and now.

Carelessness.

Noise:

Once I wrapped my head around the intrinsic 'noise' element that set those records apart, this became a torchlight into the alt noise movements which I was tentatively exploring at the time, and also is evidently a connection or thread into them.

Whether the Industrial/Post Punk UK scene (This Heat, TG, A Tent, F.E.) or the prolific output of the US Noise scene (Wolf Eyes, Live & Shave in LA, and subsequently following the lineage all the way back to Chrome's Alien Soundtracks), I had finally discovered a connection from techno to this 'free for all' corner of music.

This input from the Noise arena of sound is, in my experience, an all important step for a sonic artist, taking it's roots and extending out from Stockhausen/Pierre Henry and utilised/warped/mangled by thousands of adventurous pioneers ever since, I now see the line separating the high brow and the low brow is actually an artery carrying information from the head to the heart.

Vault is a selection of these jams that precede each of my solo recording sessions, for 30 years I've recorded hundreds of these 'workouts'. They are never intended as serious statements, just moments of naive enjoyment, yet most importantly they are time & space captured as practice.

The objective is always a warm up exercise, but sometimes those exercises turn a different corner, with a certain focus or direction dependent on what random samples are left in my machines from the previous session, instead of conscious choices, these unconscious elements can facilitate those 'positive mistakes' that make a piece of sound retain a different feel or colour and thus become special, or at least special to the creator.

I am quite conscious that the 'record everything' aspect of my ethos has been invaluable in cataloguing and saving these jams, while the attitude of carelessness during this process (after all, it's only a warm up jam) invites more enjoyment than seriousness ever could. Even if you don't feel the piece at the time, record it, because some years later it may well fit, or become relevant in a way you never intended.

-Miles

Second chapter in the Alkaline series. Five electro cuts and one techno excursion, crafted by two artists with decades of dedication to electronic music.

On Side A, Raakel Bloody Raakel brings decades of discipline and formal training into a sharp, uncompromising sound. Active since the late 90s and rooted in both classical education and underground culture, his work reflects precision, intensity and structural control.

On Side B, Roi delivers three focused electro pieces forged through years of experimentation and dancefloor experience. His approach blends coherence, tension and forward motion, driven by a continuous commitment to evolving the language of electronic music.

Two trajectories. One alkaline framework. Built for those who understand the craft.

Cosmic Tribe · Research & Development in Sound.

Leo Gibbon returns to Mudline with barbed, a six-track suite of dust-worn, sample-driven constructions pieced together from a balcony while travelling. Built from fragments that retain the emotional weight of their origins, the EP finds Gibbon paring his sound back to its essentials, letting cracked loops, negative space and tactile percussion carry a quiet sense of intimacy. There's a subtle tension throughout, music suspended between memory and movement, where worn textures and carefully preserved imperfections become part of the composition itself.

James Massiah appears on the record with a characteristically measured performance, his delivery drawing on the cadence and phrasing of archived poet freestyles, less spoken word than an act of excavation, recalling a lineage of recorded voices whose authority comes from rhythm, restraint and lived experience. His presence folds seamlessly into the EP's weathered textures, becoming another fragment in Gibbon's collage rather than a conventional guest appearance.

The first half drifts through reflective, inward-looking terrain before the second side gradually opens towards the dancefloor, never abandoning the emotional pull that defines the record. Even at its most club-focused, barbed favours understated pressure over obvious peaks, allowing atmosphere and texture to carry as much weight as rhythm. Mastered by Miles Whittaker, every grain, scrape and imperfection is left intact, balancing grit with clarity and reinforcing Mudline's instinct for raw, emotionally resonant club music that feels as honest as it does functional.

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

The Yummy Fur’s first album of new material in over 25 years is seductive and ambiguous; a fast-paced flip through scenes from art, myth, life and fantasy; a witty whole made from glittering scraps. The band’s original incarnation – fronted by singer, songwriter and guitarist John McKeown from 1992 to 1999 – morphed from making quick-hit cartoon-art songs to Eno and Cale-influenced creepers, populated by characters from McKeown’s life in Glasgow and the films, books and poetry that he lived a parallel life through. Everybody Talks About The Weather delights in using every past iteration of the band as potent collage material: a melee of sounds and ideas existing at once, revealing themselves then dipping back into hiding.
Recorded by the original core trio of McKeown, Brian MacDougall (guitar) and Paul Thomson (drums), Everybody Talks About The Weather comes 17 years after the band reformed for sporadic live shows, and seven years after the release of their sorta-greatest hits compilation Piggy Wings (Rock Action). Ten tracks long with nothing to spare, it is as condensed and vital as their best songs, with a new clarity of sound that allows their ambiguities to come into the light.
The album begins with “Cogs”, a taunting inquisition from within. As McKeown stages a fight between his id and ego, the tension heats up between conversational guitar lines and minimalist repetition; threatening sing-song melody and real, palpable menace. The band members are forced in tandem only to break apart, sustaining a genuine sense of just-hidden danger throughout the whole record – except, arguably, “Headphones”, a looser moment which sees McKeown make an existential something out of nothing while waiting for someone in the car (“I should have brought a book.../My ears are bleeding from the compression on your album”)
The songs are riots of reference: “Unity Over Europe” is a slyly complex two act play about the Mitford sisters – Diana, Unity, and Nancy, in a wink to the YF canon – smashing tragic biographical detail together with allusions to Thomas Pynchon and Francis Bacon. Pynchon is also lifted to serve “Blue Sunshine”, a collision of school shooters, serial killers and fictional fuck-ups (“Fast forward to Compton/Fast forward to Pynchon/Fast forward to Columbine'”) whose buzzy guitar lines are taunting and confrontational like a smarmy teenager. The innocuous title of “My Lasagne” belies a song that exists in several time periods at once: a visit to see Guernica, 50 people with their backs to the portrait of Dora Maar; the time that Picasso painted from; the Reina Sofia and the dirty streets of the Malasaña; myth-making musicians and the myths they’re riffing off overlapping and leering at each other.
All this could be laboured in lesser hands, but cultural verbosity is second nature to The Yummy Fur, who transform all this source material into songs that are weird, sexy, funny and absurd. Meaning is not happily understood or flattened. Susan Sontag's essay Against Interpretation accompanied McKeown as he wrote this album, and she’s paraphrased in “Semolina Ballerina”, the album’s justification of artistic ambiguity. Thomson’s motorik beat leads a gathering of back-and-forth instrumental phrases – including a wiry contribution on saxophone – embodying the futility of trying to parse something definitive from repeated action. “Listen to the very first thing that’s in your head,” Sontag-via-McKeown commands directly, then slinks sideways: “Interpretation is a conversation in an unmade bed”
The album features two more focused portraits, or at least The Yummy Fur’s version of such a thing. “Wanda” merges the life of filmmaker Barbara Loden and the title character of her semi-autobiographical 1970 feature film, with Loden’s then-husband Elia Kazan joining the fray of no-good men in her film. It’s a mix of adaptation and avant-criticism, with McKeown’s wordplay and mannered pronunciation mirroring the way that non-fiction and fiction twist around each other in the song. The title track is a series of vignettes and impressions from the lives of the band’s ‘90s inner circle, positing painter Mac McNaughton as a kind of Falstaffian ringleader. As with Piggy Wings and the recent single “New T-Shirt”, McNaughton painted the cover of Everybody Talks About The Weather – like the album’s music, the image of a coy girl in a white dress is an uncanny amalgamation of styles, suggestions and references just out of reach, as though seen in an art museum in a dream.
The album ends with two reads of the same frustration. “King of Nothing” is the closest The Yummy Fur will ever get to sludge-rock: the band melts together into a dusty, dreary haze as McKeown drowns in a drudgery of personal struggle (“Two jumpers on in Babylon/And only cats to talk to”) and the rhythmic toppling of heroes (Rowlands, Duvall, Munro). The majority of visible dirt is cleaned off for “Say Hello”, an uncharacteristic depiction of throwing the windows open after a dark night of the soul. Here, the situation is still cold and hard (“When the sun burns gold, but the heat never reaches your fingertips”) but it feels surmountable. Everybody Talks About The Weather is an unpredictable album from an unpredictable group, but ending on a moment of almost uncomplicated light is maybe its biggest surprise. - Claire Biddles (2026)

Trá Pháidín are a mutable collective of musicians who are geographically, culturally and mentally torn between Conamara Theas, Cathair Chorcaí, Ciarraí, Uíbh Fhailí, Sligeach and Port Láirge, active in one form or another since 2019. The music they make, which to date has mostly been self-released, is of an ambitious breadth, embracing traditional Irish absurdity, jazz, folk and krautrock influences, whilst remaining tantalisingly beyond any one specific understanding of either the world around them or even themselves. More defined however, is their overall conceptual approach, focusing upon original Gaelic music and what lies beyond simply “conas atá tú?”.

Cloch ‘s Claí (trans. Stone & Wall), their first record to be released by World of Echo, develops their established interests into more adventurous waters (and walls!) than ever. Based on the historical significance embedded into dry-stone walls, the album presents a satirical view of Éire’s relationship with her native tongue and the Gaeltacht (regions where Gaeilge - Irish Gaelic - remains the primary language). Constructed of ten tracks, each representative of a stone in a metaphorical stone-wall, Cloch ‘s Claí draws from styles of improvisation in Irish traditional music, exploring avenues of ornamentation and accompaniment in the tradition. As such, the arrangement changes in every performance, a new stone-wall articulated each time - the recording on this album represents just one such arrangement in one such performance. Inspired by Myles na gCopaleen’s An Béal Bocht, the wall comes to embody a variety of themes scattered across the landscape and psyche of na Gaeltachtaí - tokenism, housing, gentry politics, ribbon developments and so on. The result is a music expressive of regional styles in traditional music, krautrock, free jazz, post-rock, minimalism and drone presented in a way that feels instinctively fluid and reflective of a hushed existentialism from the west of Ireland.

On Cloch ‘s Claí, Trá Pháidín are: Conal Ó hAinmhuighe, Ultan Ó Labhradha, Peadar-Tom Mercier, Micheál Fitzgerald, Pól Ó Lionáird, Ruairí De Búrca. Cloch ‘s Claí will be released digitally and as a limited edition LP on 25th September via World of Echo. This record was created through the support of the DEIS Recording Grant & Ealaín na Gaeltachta.

The Garden, a magical place where lost dreams don't fade, but grow like silent flowers. Each petal holds an unfulfilled wish, each scent a memory left behind. In this garden, those who enter rediscover parts of themselves they thought lost and understand that nothing should be forgotten if it has touched their heart. The garden is the image that recurs most frequently throughout the album. We chose it as a metaphor for "refuge," a place where we can choose to nurture our natural inclinations, let them grow and blossom, but where we can also keep our shadows and our lights hidden. Where our secrets, our most authentic truths, our aspirations and our dreams, can therefore remain guarded until we are ready to reveal them to those who can contain and appreciate them.

Magenta Coloured Vinyl, limited to 400 copies. The Garden, a magical place where lost dreams don't fade, but grow like silent flowers. Each petal holds an unfulfilled wish, each scent a memory left behind. In this garden, those who enter rediscover parts of themselves they thought lost and understand that nothing should be forgotten if it has touched their heart. The garden is the image that recurs most frequently throughout the album. We chose it as a metaphor for "refuge," a place where we can choose to nurture our natural inclinations, let them grow and blossom, but where we can also keep our shadows and our lights hidden. Where our secrets, our most authentic truths, our aspirations and our dreams, can therefore remain guarded until we are ready to reveal them to those who can contain and appreciate them.

Manchmal reicht ein Sommer, um zu zeigen, wohin die Reise geht. Fruchtiger Beigeschmack haben ihren nicht nur angekündigt, sie bespielen ihn gerade und begeistern dabei: 300.000 Streams in nur acht Wochen, zehntausende neue Fans auf den sozialen Netzwerken, ein ausverkauftes Releasekonzert, eine Zusatzshow mit Milla im September, die ebenfalls fast ausverkauft ist, ein Support-Slot vor 6.000 Menschen bei ZAZ in München, viele Festivals - und mittendrin "Löschzug", den die TAZ zum "linken Sommerhit des Jahres" erklärt hat. Auf den Socials wird das Trio gerade zur Band, über die man spricht, bevor man sie überhaupt gehört hat. Klare Haltung, großartige Songs, eine Band, die Musikfans begeistert, weil sie so ein wohltuender Gegenentwurf zum sonst vorherrschenden oder zumindest gefühlten Sound-Einheitsbrei im Netz darstellt. Jetzt kommt das Debüt, das all das einfängt: "Fast schon gut ist nicht schlecht" - die Debüt-EP von Fruchtiger Beigeschmack, erscheint bei superpolrecords. Ein Titel mit Understatement, der genau das Gegenteil meint. Fünf Songs, die Indie-Songwriting und Jazz-Offenheit zusammenbringen, ohne sich in Genreschubladen zu verlieren. Die wirbelnde Frontfrau Milena vorne, mit Texten, die nicht ausweichen und längst nicht nur der GenZ aus dem Herzen sprechen. Levi und Felix, die dem Ganzen Raum und Reibung geben, vorgetragen mit unbändiger Spielfreude, die sowohl auf Platte, aber vor allem live zündet. Das ist keine Band, die auf den Durchbruch wartet - sie ist bereits mittendrin, und die Zahlen sprechen für sich: Hunderttausende Streams, ausverkaufte Shows, ein Sommerhit im Feuilleton. "Fast schon gut ist nicht schlecht" ist der Beweis auf Vinyl - das Debüt einer Band, die längst mehr ist als ein Geheimtipp. Diese Zeit braucht einfach einen fruchtigen Beigeschmack.

Weezer founding member and original bassist, Matt Sharp, while working on a series of “lost-albums” from the cutting room floor of his creative-life, stumbled upon a curious multi-track reel of analog tape. This mysterious reel found at the bottom of a treasure chest of other master recordings just happened to contain Weezer's very first studio sessions. These were the very same recordings that were responsible for earning the band a record contract for their iconic debut “Blue” album. These newly discovered sessions feature raw, vividly emotional and ecstatic versions of the band's timeless hit songs Say It Ain’t So and Undone (The Sweater Song.) Sharp and legendary music producer Joe Chicarrelli took these recordings to Los Angeles’ famed East/West Studios to take a deeper look into this mythic reel of 1-inch Ampex tape. What the two men quickly discovered was the original lineup (with guitarist Jason Cropper) in an infectious, explosively joyful, feral form. Making the decision to honor the original intention of the music and the traditional technology of the era, the songs were remixed from top to bottom, from tape to vinyl, in a 100% analog process.With Sharp as producer and Chicarrelli on the mix, the result of these sessions makes up the entirety of “1192” (named after the month and year it was originally recorded.) The illuminating spirit of the performances on 1192 are guaranteed to turn the world upside down for blue album fans everywhere. This album stands on its own as an essential entry into the band’s discography and is crucial to understanding the first chapter in Weezer's storied history.

Three years after their debut, the synth-pop duo HERON is back: On September 25, the Leipzig-based band’s second album will be released on the O*RS Label. With “Be Okay,” the band shows itself to be more experimental than before and strikes a critical note—without losing its signature sound. Dancefloor euphoria meets synthwave drama; big sounds meet big themes: social criticism, sexual oppression, the struggle with one’s own demons, and moments of political powerlessness. But the album is also shaped by a courage to embrace tenderness and a commitment to longing—all underscored by a melancholy that you can dance to. With a playful spirit, the duo fully explores the space between anthemic pop and darkwave moments, thereby revealing their inner selves (even more) to the outside world

By 2004, dub had a history stretching back more than thirty years. This remarkable longevity can easily be explained by the evolving nature of this musical genre, which is constantly changing both artistically and technically, from Kingston to London, New York, and more recently Berlin, Paris, Lyon and Saint-Étienne. For example, it is worth noting that for some years now, in France and elsewhere, a good number of artists have been thinking in terms of dub from the outset, breaking free from the original Jamaican model, which involved drawing inspiration almost systematically from an existing vocal track. Thirty years on, with the release of their second album, Brain Damage aim to reconnect with this tradition. Recent collaborations with the two vocalists, Learoy Green and Black Sifichi, have indeed provided the ideal source material for the creation of five tracks, each rendered in their respective dub versions, thus forming an album with a symmetrical, even geometric character - from its very structure right down to its title: 'Ashes to ashes / Dub to dub'. At the heart of the project lies the astute choice of two guests, each operating in diametrically opposed spheres yet brought together for the occasion, thereby emphasising a certain 'unity of the circle': 'the unity of the circle'. Born of a genuine artistic vision, this geometric, symmetrical aesthetic-omnipresent in every detail of the album, both auditory and visual-complements Brain Damage's 'square' and robotic side, with its three-dimensional evocations. Always working in close collaboration with the very latest digital technologies. This brings to mind 'the balance of the cube'. Finally, the title itself, 'Ashes to ashes / Dub to dub', should be understood as a reference to the transience of all things in this world, against a backdrop of widespread, globalised, international, national and local crises_

Released on Tip Top Recordings, the album features 10 songs that that brim with melody, wit and understated charm. After years of singing downbeat songs of melancholy & loss, after waving goodbye to a long-term relationship, after working at a care home during the Covid pandemic, after seeing people off from the platform of life in his role as a Funeral Celebrant, Pete Fij has decided to have a reset. Slinging back on the electric guitar, ditching the job, upping the BPMs, and falling in love again has resulted in Pete embracing his fuzzed up dream- pop past but also throwing in elements of pop and electronica.

Originally released in 1978. A Classic Reggae album re-released on 180 gram vinyl and produced by Linval Thompson with extensive sleeve notes.
Recorded at Channel One Recording Studio & Harry J's Recording Studio.
Cornell Campbell is one of an elite group of Jamaican reggae singers who has weathered the changes throughout the music's development - in his case, from the ska era to right up to date - whilst retaining their relevance. Witness his recent alliance with UK Afrobeat/reggae band The Soothsayers or Jazmine Sullivan's R & B hit Need U Bad, which sampled his classic 'Queen Of The Minstrel' -a song that still sounds fresh more than thirty years later.
Sweet Baby was pressed on bright red vinyl, which only added to the excitement when you saw the selector position it carefully on the deck.
On the LP cover was a painting of Cornell wearing an emerald green shirt and framed by a lurid sky, which might have left some people wondering if it was a soul album. It wasn't, although there is certainly soul in the grooves, and especially on R&B covers like Gonna Take A Miracle - first recorded by the Royalettes -and Darling You Send Me, which Sam Cooke had introduced to the US Billboard charts some twenty years earlier.
Both are among the highlights but then the whole album is good in truth, and a heartfelt I Need Somebody and My Sweet Baby, plus the two-step favourite Just Enough were regularly played on sound system. Blinded By Love, I Didn't Know and Can't Hide My Love are tinged with melancholy and like the seductive Whenever You Need Me, display all the hallmarks of a classic Cornell Campbell side -swooping vocals, a driving rhythm and seductive lyrics included.

Nearly forty years later, it is gratifying to know there is still no mistaking him when his records are played in a dance. That relaxed vocal style draws you in but it's his falsetto, quivering with understated emotion that hooks you and turns you into a lifelong fan.

Eversines, Dutch-based magician and Nous'klaer Audio, Kalahari Oyster Cult, Undersound and Slow Life alumni debuts on A Colourful Storm. Regularly trainspotted in the sets of the likes of Raresh and Ben UFO. Pleasant flavours appear only after initial bitterness. Focus on the finish.

For his debut on Hard Times Records, Manchester's FLETCH delivers 'Lift Me Up’ - a four-track EP rooted in rolling grooves, warm musicality and a refined dancefloor energy.

The release follows a busy run for FLETCH, with releases on Circoloco, Three Six Zero, MVSON and ANOTR's No Art, where his Play House EP reached the top of the download charts. His connection with Hard Times began behind the decks at the label's sold-out Miami Winter Music Conference showcase, where a shared appreciation for the music soon developed into plans for a release.

"After playing for the Hard Times crew in Miami, I told them how I'd been a fan of the label for years and that i’d love to release something with them one day," says FLETCH. "I sent over some tracks that I felt were a natural fit and the guys signed them on the spot. The rest, as they say, is history!"

The title track sets the tone for the EP with rolling drums, elastic basslines and understated vocal hooks, while 'Stand Up’ leans into swung percussion and classic chord stabs. On the B-side, 'Touch Me' shifts into deeper territory with stripped-back, late-night groove, before '1000 Years' closes the EP with dusty scratches, crisp hats and an understated sense of drive.

Since its digital release, lead track "Lift You Up" has received strong support on BBC R1, plus heavy DJ support from the likes of TSHA, Hilit Kolet, Laurent Garnier, Jamie Jones, Groove Armada, Riva Starr, and more.

FLETCH's sound continues to evolve while remaining firmly rooted in the traditions of house, making 'Lift Me Up' the perfect debut on Hard Times.

Heads down, steady and to the point — Squash returns to Healer Records with 3 understated club cuts, tracing deeper corners of dub, prog and tech house. All function, no excess.

In the ever-evolving landscape of the underground music scene, few bands have made an impact quite like Selofan, an immensely talented duo of Joanna Pavlidou and Dimitris Pavlidis, has carved a niche for themselves within the international pantheon of darkwave, post-punk, and '80s synthpop, blending these influences to create a sound uniquely their own. Their journey, marked by a commitment to artistic integrity and evolution, has taken them from the cozy confines of local venues to the grand stages of international festivals, earning them a dedicated following and critical acclaim along the way. Their sixth album, Partners in Hell, released in October 2020, navigated the band through unprecedented times, testing their adaptability and resilience. Despite the hurdles to performing live and the global pandemic's challenges, Selofan emerged stronger, embarking on international tours with a newfound appreciation and connection with their global audience, during this period of introspection and isolation, Joanna Pavlidou embarked on a new venture, GIOVANNA, released under Selofan’s house label, Fabrika Records. GIOVANNA, which places Pavlidou at the helm of vocal and lyrical composition, represents a full on foray into synth-pop. showcasing a different facet of her artistic identity, with lyrics entirely in Greek. In 2023, Selofan hit the circuit hard, lighting up revered festivals with their presence. They stood shoulder to shoulder with heavy hitters like Molchat Doma and Lebanon Hanover at Grey Scale and performed with with the likes of The Sisters of Mercy, VNV Nation, and She Past Away at the Death Disco fest in their hometown of Athens. With each album they have released Selofan made significant strides in their evolution, deepening their engagement with their art. And their forthcoming seventh full length studio release, Animal Mentality, is poised to be their most compelling work yet. Animal Mentality unfolds as a labyrinthine journey through the elemental aspects of human emotion and experience, set against the backdrop of Selofan's signature darkwave sound. Each track on the album delves into different facets of the human condition, from the depths of desire to the pangs of isolation, encapsulating the duo's profound understanding of the intricate spectrum of human emotion and subjective experiences. The album kicks off with "Sticky Fingers," a track that melds cinematic scope with a haunting storyline, reminiscent of Jean-Michel Jarre's icy synths and a lyrical nod to Joy Division. This opening salvo revisits the tragic allure of classic car accident songs, weaving a tale of joy turned to sorrow amidst the snowy Alps. "Love's Secret Game" delves into the depths of forbidden desire, with vocals that echo the melancholy timbre of Xmal Deutschland, Lebanon Hanover, and Nico. It's a tale of passion and ephemeral connection, promising an enduring presence despite the inevitable fracture of time and distance. In "Lucille," sung by Dimitris Pavlidis, the plot is ensnared in the machinations of a tempestuous affair, with gothic undertones evoking the dramatic soundscapes of Ultravox and Clan of Xymox. The lyrics are steeped in danger and desire - a dance with the shadows. "Sacrifice Me" plunges into the abyss of despair, driven by a Bauhaus-esque bassline. It's a plea for release from the chains of alienation, a yearning for a final gesture of solace in the face of overwhelming darkness. "Bluebirds" offers a poignant reflection on solitude, with the fleeting imagery of bluebirds symbolizing the elusive quest for happiness. The song serves as a meditation on the internal struggle to maintain hope in a world shaded by sorrow. The narrative shifts with "Glassplitter," where German lyrics paint a portrait of deceptive allure and toxic entanglement. We are confronted with irresistible danger, masked by a veneer of beauty. "Ignoranz" continues the exploration in German, pondering the universality of misunderstanding. It's a reflection on the subjective nature of truth and the shared human experience of ignorance. "Behind My Eyelids" closes the odyssey, a contemplation on melancholy and metamorphosis. The phoenix rises from the ashes of betrayal to the brighter realm of renewal - a beautiful homage to the resilience of the human spirit amidst the often harrowing cycles of life. More than just an album, Animal Mentality is a milestone in Selofan's career, marking a decade of musical innovation and growth. It's a testament to their enduring spirit and a bold step into new realms of artistic expression. As Selofan continues to evolve, they remain at the forefront of their genre, pushing boundaries and exploring the depths of the human psyche through their haunting melodies and poignant lyrics.

A long-lost Japanese acid folk gem, Niningashi’s 1974 private press debut Heavy Way shimmers with originality, deft song writing and a dream-like groove.

Although he was training as a pharmacist, Kazuhisa Okubo was much more interested in prescribing musical medicine.
A coming-of-age album, Heavy Way captured a turning point in Okubo’s life, and Japanese society more widely as a nostalgia for the pastoral calm of the traditional life, met the cosmopolitan thrill of coffee, sex and cigarettes in the big city.
Intoxicated by Tokyo, driven by a passion for music and surrounded by a thriving acid folk scene, the young student filtered his experiences through a psychedelic cocktail of soulful influences from the US and Japan.
Niningashi was his first band, and Heavy Way was their only album. It was honest and raw, deep and strangely funky, in an off-beat kind of way. Across nine tracks, Okubo and the 6-piece band put their own spin on the new folk sound of Japan, combining witty lyrics with electric guitar-driven solos and crisp, understated grooves.

Melancholy and profound, opening track ‘Ameagari’ feels like a synthesis of Harvest-era Neil Young and Haruomi Hosono’s Happy End. Then there’s the whimsical washboard country sound of ‘Semai Boku No Heyade’; the moody, low-lit charm of ‘Restaurant’; and ‘Hitoribotchi’, a sensitive portrayal of childhood, steeped in memories of rainfall that will resonate with fans of Woo and Mac Demarco.
While Okubo would go on to taste success with psychedelic folk bands Neko and Kaze, the latter of which scored three #1 albums, little is known about his mysterious debut with Niningashi.
Self-released by Okubo in 1974, and featuring album artwork by his brother, it has slowly generated a cult following online, intrigued by its soft and enchanting sound. So few records were ultimately pressed that those remaining have fetched up to £1,500 online.

Featured on Time Capsule’s era-spanning collection Nippon Acid Folk, Niningashi’s Heavy Way is a deep-cut grail of a vibrant time in Japan’s musical history, where even the pharmacists were making jams.

For her new and most radical album »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone«, Martina Bertoni used the electronic instrument at EMS Stockholm to create four pieces that are massive in scale and incredibly intimate, sonically restrained and emotionally overwhelming—almost ambient and always demanding your full attention.

Martina Bertoni returns to Karlrecords with »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone,« her most radical album yet. The foundation for the four electroacoustic pieces was laid during a residency at Stockholm’s legendary Elektronmusikstudion (EMS) that the Berlin-based cellist and composer used to explore the curious instrument, originally designed by Halldór Úlfarsson in 2008, as an algorithmic system in order to examine tunings and the mathematical relationships between Aiming to analyse and understand their interaction beyond the composer’s control, Bertoni sought to engage more deeply with the concepts of time, tuning, and, most importantly, control. Accordingly, her four »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone« seem both massive in scale and incredibly intimate, sonically restrained and emotionally overwhelming— almost ambient and always demanding your full attention.

While the halldorophone—famously used by Hildur Guðnadóttir for her »Joker« score—roughly resembles a cello and can be played like one, it is an electronic instrument. The vibration of its strings is being picked up, amplified, and then routed through a speaker. This creates a feedback loop that becomes increasingly complex depending on how much gain is added to individual strings. Úlfarsson gave Bertoni a carte blanche for how to handle the instrument, but she stresses that she relied on »minimal interventions—some string strumming and plucking« that set the interactions of different sounds and frequencies into motion. »I decided to not approach it like a cellist would,« she explains. »Instead I used it as a kind of generative organ by turning it into a feedback machine, with tuned feedback triggering more feedback depending on the tuning, which was based on tetraphonic scales that I could apply on the four main strings as well as the sympathetic group of strings.«

Bertoni recorded the material in the EMS studio, later composing and arranging the four complex pieces in her home in Berlin, after which they were mixed and mastered by Ciaran O’Shea. While this can be considered a compositional abstraction process, traces of her concrete work as a performer are firmly ingrained in the music. »The halldorophone doesn’t have a line output, just a double set of speakers, which is why I recorded all sounds with two microphones in the EMS studio,« she explains. »That’s why there’s plenty of breathing sounds here and there—label owner Thomas Herbst and I jokingly refer to the album as my ›chamber music record‹.« And indeed, there is a striking sense of intimacy to these four pieces throughout which individual sounds, harmonic frequencies, and even subtle rhythmic figures seem to move both on their own accord but also according to a underlying vision that steers their interplay.

Indeed, »Electroacoustic Works for Halldorophone« is an album built on and marked by contrasts. The soothing polylogue of single sounds in the higher register on opener »Omen in G« is counterpointed by massive bass drones, while the second piece, »Nominal in D,« plays a cunning game of repetition and difference by combining thick textures with all kinds of rhythmic elements. »Fades in C«—the longest of the four pieces, clocking in at 17 minutes—unlocks the emotional potentials of the sonic qualities of the halldorophone, sounding at once serene and anthemic, and »Organon in D« closes the album by underscoring how Bertoni’s unconventional approach allows her to seamlessly transform simple, quiet tones into complex, towering walls of sound.

Shaped in the shadows and sounds of the legendary Topanga Canyon, California. The debut album from Biita Houdei is buoyed by a magic that feels wildly and beautifully untamed; wild-hearted sentiments that are shaped by the world around it, fascinated by the enchantment of it all, and delivered via a collective (harmony layered) voice that understands the complex nature of what it means to be alive in the here and now.

Produced by Haley Heynderickx, 'This Bed Was Made For Me' is a striking collection of stirring, signature folk songs animated by subtle instrumentation and orchestral flourishes. It feels lived in: vocals weave together in a beautiful harmonic dance, seasons shift, sunshine appears and bold psychedelic colours warm the horizon.

In the early stages of making her debut album, Biita Houdei knew two things: that she wanted the recordings to feel distinctly and palpably warm, and that she would sew a unique patch for every song on the album. The first of those things is subjective, though brightness pours in from all corners of This Bed Was Made For Me. The second became a laborious task she undertook throughout the process, the completion of which is testament to the slow process of it all, to the physical commitment and patience required to make a full work of art.

The patches she crafted during the making of This Bed Was Made For Me became a full quilt, one that now adorns the album’s front cover. Beneath it sits a striking collection of Houdei’s stirring, signature folk songs, brought into fruition with the help of fellow songwriter Haley Heynderickx, in her first lead production role, and the album’s producer/engineer Sahil Ansari. It’s also the first release Biita (pronounced “bee-tah”) is releasing under her newly-taken name, one that was gifted to her by her auntie and means "unique" in the Farsi language. “I proudly take this name,” Biita says of the change. “It makes me feel that much closer to my Persian heritage.”

Recorded across ten back-to-back and full days, the album touches on themes of love and heritage, of taking chances, the preciousness of time and the impact we all have on the world around us. A number of the songs were written in Topanga, California, while Biita settled into a new home as wild fires raged, and as she adjusted to a life which no longer held distinct seasonal changes, far from the Ozark Mountain home she felt so attached to. Such themes reveal themselves in a variety of ways across the album’s fourteen songs, that key sense of warmth retained in the bones of the album whether they are stepping into darkness or seeking out light.

The album feels lived in and alive; dust swirls, seasons shift, sunshine appears and is held. Biita calls it ‘psychedelic’ and there is indeed a sense of that in the world building, in the way the bold colours are always shifting. Formed of fourteen songs, and filling nearly forty-five minutes, This Bed Was Made For Me not only builds a whole world for listeners to inhabit but also implores you to stay a while. This was deliberate, indeed it’s Biita’s wish that listeners give the album dedicated time; to learn its shape, to explore it fully, away from the instant grab of playlists and skewed algorithms.

“Many of my favourite albums didn’t reveal themselves instantly to me,” Biita, now based in the Catskill Mountains of New York, explains. “Some did, of course, but I had to work to understand the full scope of the piece as a whole. I encourage people to dive deeper into everything that they choose to consume. It is not my intention to sound pretentious, but instead, I am trying harder to explain the gratitude I have for being able to craft every part of this album— using my hands, my brain, my voice, my visions. To me, it is an all encompassing work of art,” she continues. “Making the quilt was laborious. Taking the cover photo was laborious. No shortcuts, but rather a manual and tangible approach. I am thankful for the time it took.”

2026 Repress

To be far ahead of your time sometimes means that you have to wait a while for the right moment to be understood. The visionary approach of multi-instrumentalist Johnny Lamas led him to experiment with a world of hybrid jazz-funk, ambient and electronic sounds while keeping the rhythms of Venezuelan traditional music alive. From 1993 to today, small recognition has grown into true admiration for this so specific sound and his "Danza Cósmica" masterpiece.

TrueClass Records are pleased to present as their second release a complete restoration of this gem, beautifully remastered and redesigned, making it available now for the first time in fine audio quality on vinyl and digital formats.

Spiral code is the second album released on An’archives by the Japanese trio archeus, after 2023’s Kusōzu: Nine Death Stages, and their seventh release altogether. It’s also the most staggering evidence yet of the single-minded pursuit of group-sound explored by Keiko Higuchi (voice, drums, percussion, trombone), Shizuo Uchida (4 strings), and TOMO (hurdy gurdy). For two tracks, “awakening, beyond recurrence” and “where points and lines intersect”, they’re joined by Kiyotaka Moriuchi, an improviser who’s played with the likes of Shoko Numao and Ensemble Shippolly, on percussion and darbuka (a goblet-shaped drum played widely across South East Asia).

Always able to scour magic from both their relationships with their instruments, and their non-idiomatic interplay, on spiral code they’ve widened their net further; the results oscillate from humid and claustrophobic blocks of noise to rivulets of tone coursing across post-volcanic landscapes, and on into simple gestures suspended in arctic space. Spiral code was recorded in a single day, on March 20 th 2025, at a studio in Koenji, Tokyo, the morning session with the original trio, and afternoon and evening session with Moriuchi – the first time archeus have played with a guest musician.

When asked about the music archeus makes together, TOMO is quick to isolate the singular characteristics of their collaboration: “we are trying to explore some new, unknown musical vocabulary every time we play. And what we are trying to achieve from every session is something unique, an interesting chemistry or, I should say, alchemical reaction among the three of us.” You can certainly hear that alchemy in the dynamic arc of their performances, the way they seem to be able to switch on a dime and push the music into unexpected terrain, all while sounding intimately archeus. “We have been playing for many years,” TOMO continues, “so I think that among three of us, we can telepathically sense, feel and understand what each of us is trying to express while we are playing.” It’s telling that guest musician Moriuchi fits so effortlessly into the archeus soundworld, able to hitch a ride on the intimate telepathy of Higuchi, Shizuo and TOMO; “I think he gave us some fresh air to our music,” the latter smiles. But that telepathy extends, even, to the name of the album itself, with all members pointing toward spiral imagery when naming the title track, whether TOMO’s evocation of Kundalini serpent imagery and Caduceus, to the spiral shape of DNA, what TOMO calls “the code of life.” It’s certainly deeply entwined music: spiral code is a helix of sound, a cylindrical coiling of possibility.

Futaishitsu Souzou is the first vinyl album released by Japanese duo la scène 裸身, a duo of Saya on vocals and bass, and Eiji on guitar. They’ve been an understated but deeply impressive presence on the Japanese underground for the best part of a decade now, having self-released a debut album, Ten No Sekido, in 2018, which saw them co-producing by Atsuo of Boris, who also worked with them on the following year’s Corridor EP. The mystery and magic of their songs, which vibrate in a curious space between psychedelic rock, acid folk and slowcore, is at its strongest on Futaishitsu Souzou.

la scène 裸身 have long been interested in art that’s stripped back to its simplest, most elemental form, much as their name represents the Japanese word ‘rashin’, which means naked body. There is something unadorned about the three songs on Futaishitsu Souzou; Saya’s becalmed, unhurried vocal delivery reflects the gentle intensity of the simple, gem-like chord changes strewn through songs like “Futaishitsu Souzou” itself, and the bittersweet, folkish lament of “Reiyou”, a song inspired by the loss of the band’s friend, Gazelle.

Futaishitsu Souzou is steeped in melancholy, but it is not resigned to this emotional state; there are threads of rebirth and transcendence woven through the album’s three lovely, slowly enveloping, and deeply moving songs. Often, you can hear that transcendence in the soaring, sky- burning guitar playing that cleaves these songs in twain, from guest guitarist Hiroshi Kurosawa (of Asylum). At times, the music here recalls the drift-like psych-rock of the Paisley Underground; elsewhere, it explodes with vibrant intensity, swarming with noise and feedback, that runs alongside similarly delirious examples from the Japanese underground.

And yet, la scène 裸身 is entirely its own thing, a unique, singular vibration, a oneiric manifestation of hermetic visionary art.

Could it be that the world is finally ready for the tempestuous folk-rock opera that is "All the Leaves are Gone?" In 2004, only the truly informed and forward-thinking heads "got" this mini masterpiece. Critics scratched their heads and usually resorted to comparisons of past artists, like ol Grace Slick and her Great Jefferson Society, Fairport Convention (but which era? SURELY Judy Dyble's early reign?), and at best, Shirley Collins. A few fans attempted to connect the record to even more obscure "freak folk/rock" like Mellow Candle, Fear Itself, or Trees. "All the Leaves are Gone" was made by unique personalities not concerned with influences or copying any bygone era. Surely, some things are in our DNA or even early childhood, as Josephine Foster's roots in opera manifest themselves as much as any other influence in this organic song cycle. Sure, guitarist Brian Goodman may have heard Richard Thompson before, but his alchemical and molten guitar spray is purely his own, in tunings and intervals still not meant for normal humans to understand, mostly because his 2004 guts were poured into every sublime note (I think even Brian himself never even understood how good he was). That fiery emotion is also in every nuance of Foster's songs--like life, there's disquieting, jagged moments of unease, and there's calm both before and after the storm. There are moments of utter gentleness along the journey---because yes, every concept album should be a voyage, and this is one everyone should take. - Steve Krakow.

Night repeats itself in small fragments.

A thought left unfinished.
A sentence waiting to be said.
One day dissolving into the next.

Akero returns to Moving Pictures with a five-track EP shaped by melodic tension, understated emotion and gently shifting club rhythms.

The record opens with "I Need To Say It" - a direct and emotional cut carried by a restless groove and a quietly luminous atmosphere.
"Ogninotte" unfolds with hypnotic movement with a soft melancholic pulse, while "Unagiornata" brings a brighter, more open-ended moment to the record.

On the remix side, Roman Rai reshapes "I Need To Say It" into a Complete Cosmic Rework, allowing the original to unfold across wider, more spacious terrain.
Täino closes the circle with his own interpretation, keeping the emotional core intact while bringing it closer to the label's warm and introspective dancefloor language.

Pioneering Ghanaian musician King Ayisobareturns September 4, 2026 with his forthcoming seventh album Pure Confusion, recorded and produced by On-U-Sound’s Adrian Sherwood.

Ayisoba is one of Ghana’s most distinctive musical voices. The world’s foremost player of the kologo - a homemade two-string lute fashioned from a calabash and covered in goatskin - he delivers fiercely political and socially observant songs using three different voices, including the voice of his grandfather that possessed him as a child. Sherwood meanwhile is the pioneering British producer and founder of On-U Sound whose hugely influential career has connected dub, post-punk, industrial, hip hop and experimental music through collaborations with artists including Lee “Scratch” Perry, Mark Stewart, Horace Andy, Sinéad O’Connor, Nine Inch Nails and Depeche Mode.

Ayisoba and Sherwood first collaborated during a BBC Radio 3 Late Junction session at Maida Vale in 2017, organised by Ayisoba’s long-time collaborator Arnold de Boer/Zea of The Ex. The pair immediately connected, and during the pandemic, when Adrian’s long-time African Head Charge collaborator Bonjo Iyabinghi Noah was in Ghana looking for musicians to collaborate with Sherwood suggested Ayisoba, who eventually featured on two tracks on African Head Charge’s 2023 album A Trip To Bolgatanga (Bolgantanga is the region Ayisoba is from). Ayisoba then returned to the UK in late 2024 and travelled to Sherwood’s Ramsgate studio where the pair laid down the songs that would become Pure Confusion: “All the songs were already in my head,” says Ayisoba. “This album is all recorded live, over one afternoon. Adrian only plays live, and I like that. And he works hard - he doesn’t sleep. I woke up in the night and he was still working.”

“In my role producing it, I just let it roll to make a good vibe,” says Sherwood. “We recorded it completely live, did some programming and processing on some tracks, using dub techniques live on the mixing desk and adding some slick touches. We wanted the colours on the album to swing off what Ayisoba was doing, so we invited some friends to participate. Doug Wimbish (Sugar Hill Gang) arrived from America and lent his services playing bass on a couple of tracks; the wonderful Ivan Hussey (Celloman) played bass, keyboards and cello - cello is not really featured on African recordings so we thought it would be really cool to try it. I'd been working with Alex White (Fat White Family/Primal Scream) on my album (The Collapse of Everything) and so he added sax to a few tracks and I brought Alan Glenn down especially - Alan was in Little Axe but also Nine Below Zero and played in the Yardbirds – to add some mouth organ; Mark Bandola added a bit of flavour with his Juno, Ayisoba’s long-time Ghanian collaborator Ayuune Sule added some percussion and vocals and Matt Smith did some programming.”

“King Ayisoba is quite amazing, so unique,” Sherwood continues. “He’s got his own handmade instrument and three different voices - when you’re listening you think it’s three different people. He’s a breath of fresh air, full of love for the music which he wants to share with everybody. Some tracks we kept very straight and others we experimented with - adding dubby psychedelic little touches to trip you out a bit. The added production we did at On-U has given it a shine while still keeping it vibrant, live and spontaneous. I’m really proud of this record”.

On Pure Confusion, Ayisoba documents the anxieties, contradictions and changing social realities of contemporary Ghana. “Land is a problem for everyone,” says Ayisoba of the opening track “Property”. “If you don’t build on your land they will take it away. Plenty corruption in Ghana, plenty confusion. They sell the land to two, three, four people and then everybody fights.”

Elsewhere Ayisoba explores illness, spirituality and social stigma on “Bemba”, warning against hiding sickness out of shame or fear of “bad juju”: “People hide their sickness and the sickness kills them.” “Tewigiloge” reflects on cultural difference and open-mindedness encountered through world travel: “We will tour the whole world and we will see many things we may not like or understand… your eyes will see, but don’t talk - you have to be open-minded.”

Spirituality runs deeply throughout the album. Ayisoba’s grandfather was a respected spiritual healer whose presence the musician says still guides him today. “The grandparents’ spirits are the ones you can contact,” he explains of the spiritual chant “Nkaase”. “This song talks about the forefathers.” The closing track “Leeda-Mampanga (It’s Not My Strength)” acts as a statement of humility and gratitude: “You have to be humble, even if you have talent. God gives you the power.”

For more than two decades, King Ayisoba has been one of Africa’s most distinctive musical innovators, transforming northern Ghanaian kologo traditions into a bold contemporary sound rooted in hypnotic rhythms, social commentary and spiritual intensity. Since the breakthrough success of 2006’s Modern Ghanaians, Ayisoba has built an international following through acclaimed albums, relentless touring and collaborations with artists including Lee “Scratch” Perry, Orlando Julius and African Head Charge. Performances at Roskilde, WOMAD, Le Guess Who? and the Barbican have further cemented his reputation as a singular live performer and cultural force.

Back by popular demand, Shawn Ward's sought-after Forward Motions EP returns on vinyl, giving collectors and DJs another chance to secure a modern deep house favourite.

A respected figure in underground house for more than two decades, Ward has developed a distinctive sound built on warmth, musicality and understated sophistication. Forward Motions EP continues that tradition with four impeccably produced cuts that balance dancefloor energy with timeless listening appeal.

With original copies becoming increasingly difficult to find, this long-awaited repress makes an essential release available once again for a new generation of listeners, while giving longtime fans the opportunity to replace worn copies or finally complete the collection.

Moving between lo-fi experimental songwriting, sparse post-punk textures and intimate recordings; Ukrainian artist Regina Collage’s new album ‘Horizont’ is a personal and honest document of rebuilding a life and creative voice in Bristol. The record holds space for themes of burnout, quiet shame, tenderness and the courage of staying emotionally open when the world feels unstable. Sung entirely in Ukrainian, ‘Horizont’ does not ask the listener to understand every word. Feeling carries the songs forward. Across bedroom recordings and borrowed studios, Regina moves between cloudy dissonance and stark minimal arrangements built around bass, fragments of guitar, and an exposed voice. The recordings hold onto their rough edges. Mistakes remain and imperfection becomes part of the story. “Music for me is about not being scared to be vulnerable,” Regina says. “Almost every song I have is about what it means to be open and emotional. I really do not think it is a weakness. I hope people can listen and feel welcome to take a break and just let their emotions exist.” The album takes its name from the Ukrainian word for “horizon,” that unreachable line where sky meets earth. For Regina, the horizon became a quiet metaphor for living with distance and uncertainty. Inspired by one of her collage artworks showing a figure lying in grass and staring toward that far line, the title track reflects a feeling of moving toward something that never quite comes closer. Even without understanding the lyrics, the song carries a slow sense of longing and suspended arrival. m‘Vpiznavaty’, by contrast, initially feels almost light. Beneath that surface is a candid portrait of burnout and depressive exhaustion. The song looks at those moments when even greeting friends feels overwhelming. It captures the quiet embarrassment of withdrawing from people you care about, and the slow recognition that sometimes stepping away is simply how you survive. Other songs reveal different sides of the same emotional landscape. ‘Weak’ strips everything back to bass, a hint of guitar, and a bare vocal. Written and recorded in a single instinctive session, the track circles around the idea that softness might be its own kind of strength. Repetitive and intentionally unpolished, it quietly sets the tone for the whole record. Running through ‘Horizont’ is the reality of Regina’s life between Ukraine and the UK. Her hometown Kharkiv continues to face attacks, and many of her friends remain on the front line.

As has been the case with a number of releases on Punctuality so far, Echo Chambered has already gained notoriety as a sleeper hit for those in the know. Fans of Evan Baggs and Rey Colino’s Radar stream from Dekmantel 2025 will instantly recognise Carousel, pulled from a white-label dubplate about half an hour into the set. Fast forward nine months and a flood of track ID requests later and PNCT011 is finally here: five expertly crafted rollers from a modern master of the craft, Bliss Inc.

It’s easy to see why there has been so much demand for Carousel. Its earworm vocal, delicate percussion programming, undulating low end and spacey sound design land it squarely in the sweet spot between the minimal, progressive and contemporary tech house that so many
diggers are seeking out.

While the A1 is an undeniable hit, each track truly sounds like a hard-to-find early 2000s gem—the kind of record a Discogs shark will flip for extortionate rates. Why? Maybe it’s the rolling basslines, the understated grooves, the organic but club-ready percussion, the vocal samples or the cerebral FX.

Maybe it’s the mature, floor-focused arrangements, or the way Bliss Inc. nods to different corners of the dance music spectrum while maintaining a distinct signature. Or more simply, perhaps it’s because each track is an expertly constructed club tool —built for DJs, but just as rewarding for listeners.

However you want to hear it, Echo Chambered has all the markings of a Punctuality classic. With all five tracks doing damage in equal measures, you know what to do…

Tommy McCook was not only a founding member of the legendary Jamaican Ska group The Skatalites, but also a brilliant musical arranger. His informed understanding of Jazz, R&B and in fact most music styles would always add another layer to any song put his way. This made him the go to guy for most of the Jamaican producers, who would use his arrangement skills to pepper up their latest tunes.

Tommy McCook, (b1927, Havana, Cuba) came to Jamaica with his mother from Cuba aged 11 and entered renowned Alpha Boys School for underprivileged children, a school that placed great emphasis on musical tuition. At the tender of 14, such was his talent he has left to join Eric Deans Orchestra and took on stints with other bands led by Don Hinchman and Roy Coburn. All the bands played in the Swing and Jazz style of the times. He relocated to the Bahamas in 1954 where he further developed his Jazz technique and upon his return to Jamaica in 1962 began working Coxsone Dodd’s Studio One and became involved in the development of Ska. His knowledge of Jazz, R& B and Jamaican musical forms helped set the tone for the group of musicians he was working with and would name the Skatalites. The group, consisting of Don Drummond (Trombone), Roland Alphonso (Tenor Saxophone), Jackie Mitoo (Piano), Lloyd Brevett (Bass), Lloyd Knibbs (Drums), alongside Tommy himself on Tenor Saxophone. The group would back all the major Ska vocalists pf the day and would also go on to cut a catalogue of instrumental music. The Skatalites split up in 1965 and Tommy McCook moved over to work with Duke Reid’s Treasure Isle Studios where he formed The Supersonics. A set of musicians under his guidance that consisted of Lynn Tait and Ernest Ranglin (Guitar), Neville Hinds and Winston Wright (Organ), Gladstone “Gladdy” Anderson (Piano), Hugh Malcolm and Arkland “Drumbago” Parks (Drums), Clifton “Jackie” Jackson (Bass), and Tommy and Hernon Marquis (Saxophone). The more laid back sounds from 1966-1968 would be given the name Rocksteady of which again McCook was at the forefront. The top producers like Bunny Lee would use the musicianship of Tommy McCook and his arrangement skills to enhance this new sound.

We have compiled a great selection of rhythms that featured McCook blowing over tracks stripped of their vocals and replaced with some fantastic lead lines played by Tommy and some of his fellow horns men.
We hope you agree like we do that they do this in fine style.

Time Heals Everything is the fifth studio album from Blu and Exile, a duo that first connected in 2007 and has spent nearly two decades refining a chemistry that continues to evolve. The ten-track LP follows 2024’s Love (the) Ominous World and leans deeper into their core strengths: soul-forward production, incisive writing, and left-field choices that feel instinctive rather than experimental.
The album opens with “Soul Unusual,” a mission statement that builds on the lineage of “Soul Provider” and “Soul Amazing,” reframed through Blu’s present-day perspective. “The word special comes to mind,” Blu explains. “This is my perspective of those songs now.” Exile adds that the record went through multiple iterations before landing in its final form. “Once I changed the beat, it really came together for me, and his words hit differently,” he says, setting the tone for a project rooted in refinement and intention.
“Crumbs” pairs Blu with Rome Streetz and ICECOLDBISHOP on a golden era-inspired backdrop, taking aim at the ‘crumbs’ people are expected to accept from corrupt systems of power. The track underscores one of the album’s central themes: clarity through experience, and the perspective that comes with time.
Time Heals Everything finds Blu and Exile honoring their foundation while continuing to push forward, proving once again that soul and risk-taking can coexist without compromise. “We took a different approach with the direction while still staying true to the culture our music has built with our fan base,” Blu says. In 2026, that culture remains alive, evolving, and resonant as ever.

2020 album from Colorado’s freewheelin’ melodist Josephine Foster. Revolving between her adopted Spain and her native American West, Josephine was stationed this spring in Nashville with maverick guitarist and comrade-in-arms Matthew Schneider. The result: ‘No Harm Done’, a spacious and enveloping love letter of an album. Eight new slow-burning songs branch forth from idiosyncratic country folk blues, sung with sibylline wit and a hint of the absurd, awash in sensually anachronic lyricism. “The Wheel of Fortune”, nearly a title track by virtue of its refrain: 'No harm will come/if there's no harm done', are words of a homebound wanderer finding refuge in healing stillness with her beloved, having 'time to kill' in the midst of 'hard times to feel at home'. All delivered with calm sagacity upon the pedestal of Mr. Schneider's pedal steel and underscored by a knowing trebled chorus in Foster's lower register. Going nowhere never felt like so righteous of a destination before. Devotion in all its permutations, spiritual to carnal, are seamlessly explored. In 'Conjugal Bliss', overtones of the 12-string and autoharp gently interplay, sounding like some unearthed Carter family wedding hymn (it bears the subversive subtitle '69' ) while 'How come, Honeycomb?' bounces low in the hips like a sultry old music hall number à la Harry Nilsson. The obliquely sapphic 'Leonine', it's unquiet harp scaling right out of ancient Lesbos, dreams of a kingless land; in 'Sure Am Devilish', a stargazer humbly confesses to a lowercase lord. 'Old Saw', the mesmeric album closer, is a medium's petition to cross the threshold and merge with the holy spirit. Josephine's enigmatic voice captured once more by frequent co-producer Andrija Tokic in his analog Bomb Shelter studio, where layers of her guitar, piano, organ entwine with Schneider's 12-string, pedal steel and electric bass to rouse a spectral yet full blooded band. The ensuing cycle of songs pulse and glow within the ruins and deep fundamental roots of American song. “Remarkable, ghostly music” The Guardian.

The deluxe 10th anniversary edition of case/lang/veirs features the new track "Accidental Tattoo" and twelve never-before-released live recordings alongside the original studio album from supergroup of singer-songwriters Neko Case, kd lang and Laura Veirs. Released in 2016, case/lang/veirs is a true collaboration between three phenomenal, self-driven artists: "the strongest voices in their field - lang the full-voiced seductress, Case the hurricane, and Veirs the wry storyteller" (Pitchfork). The women wrote all 14 songs and shared lead vocals equally, sometimes even within the same track. Full of stunning harmonies and spellbinding rhythms, case/lang/veirs travels through aches and eras, torch songs and tributes to the undersung. "There"s a generosity of spirit to case/lang/veirs," NPR praised upon the album"s release, "a worthy extension of three tremendous catalogs, in which three great singer-songwriters sound enhanced and invigorated by the challenge of living up to each other"s legacies." They worked over two and a half years in Portland, Oregon, where lang and Veirs both live, sometimes in lang"s loft with a view of Mount St. Helens, others in Veirs" dining room or backyard studio. The album was written from the ground up without any real plan beyond a desire to make music together and a faith that it would reveal itself. They produced the album with Tucker Martine, at his Portland studio in November 2015.

The deluxe 10th anniversary edition of case/lang/veirs features the new track "Accidental Tattoo" and twelve never-before-released live recordings alongside the original studio album from supergroup of singer-songwriters Neko Case, kd lang and Laura Veirs. Released in 2016, case/lang/veirs is a true collaboration between three phenomenal, self-driven artists: "the strongest voices in their field - lang the full-voiced seductress, Case the hurricane, and Veirs the wry storyteller" (Pitchfork). The women wrote all 14 songs and shared lead vocals equally, sometimes even within the same track. Full of stunning harmonies and spellbinding rhythms, case/lang/veirs travels through aches and eras, torch songs and tributes to the undersung. "There"s a generosity of spirit to case/lang/veirs," NPR praised upon the album"s release, "a worthy extension of three tremendous catalogs, in which three great singer-songwriters sound enhanced and invigorated by the challenge of living up to each other"s legacies." They worked over two and a half years in Portland, Oregon, where lang and Veirs both live, sometimes in lang"s loft with a view of Mount St. Helens, others in Veirs" dining room or backyard studio. The album was written from the ground up without any real plan beyond a desire to make music together and a faith that it would reveal itself. They produced the album with Tucker Martine, at his Portland studio in November 2015.

Ecology Division is a new compilation from Bastard Jazz that brings together a network of producers and musicians working across jazz, soul, electronic, and beat-driven styles. Featuring artists from Brooklyn, Chicago, Montreal, London, Lisbon, Melbourne, and Ludhiana, the release highlights a core group of collaborators and peers connected to the label’s extended orbit. The project is presented with cohesive visual direction inspired by vintage field guides and naturalist illustration, with each track paired to a distinct animal. This framing positions Ecology Division as a curated snapshot of an active, evolving creative community rather than a traditional compilation.

The release features contributions from Simon Mavin (of Hiatus Kaiyote), Sholto & David Bardon, Danny Scott Lane, Rachel Kitchlew & DOUGH, Lapgan, Korovo, Birocratic, Kartik, Nick Marks, and Pimenta Caseira. Collectively, these artists have released music on respected independent labels including Ninja Tune, Brainfeeder, Mr. Bongo, Melting Pot Music, WRWTFWW Records, and Moon Glyph, among others—underscoring the compilation’s reach across established global scenes.

Inhibitions are to be checked at the door with the arrival of Farsa on Step Ball Chain. The inconspicuous (for now) Beirut based producer steps up for number 19 with an EP of intentional, timeless club music; deeply intimate, dynamic and understatedly sexy. Promiscuous Dubz is laced with an infectious bounce; that pure unadulterated groove which starts ground up and doesn’t stop til it hits you in the face and leaves you gathering your jaw. The 4 track record (+ exclusive bonus digital) features a bratty breakneck remix from label head(less) Roza T herself, rounding off a chic&freaky collection of introspective, stylish tracks for headphones or heads down in equal measures.

All tracks written, produced & mixed by Farsa in Beirut, Lebanon.
Mastered by Anne Taegert at Dubplates & Mastering.
Distributed by One Eye Witness.
Artwork by Dylan Batelic.

After making waves in the underground with their first release, psychedelic techno explorations from Winkles, A Sky Full Of Numbers head to the shoreline with a five tracker of misty electronica from Japan’s The Rituals, the new collaboration between Tasoko and DOLTZ. Across acclaimed releases on Explore, Bitta, and Delsin, the duo have separately explored deep techno, ambient, acid house and IDM, showcasing innovative sound design and spacious, understated grooves. For AFSON, the duo apply their unique point of view at a lower tempo, pulling away from the peak time to deliver a shadowy journey through dewy electronics.
Opening transmission 503M feels like tuning into a damaged frequency somewhere beyond the cloud line. Misty lead synths slither through blown circuitry while buzzing sequences and short-circuiting percussion crackle against purring bass pressure below.
There’s an eerie electricity in the atmosphere, as if the track’s been exposed to too much heat and left glowing softly in the dark. From the opening bars, The Rituals instantly establish their ability to make techno feel both mechanical and hallucinatory.
Ugan sees the duo descend deeper into the haze. Reverb-drenched synth motifs hover like distant lights through thick fog while a propulsive dub bassline locks into loose electro-funk rhythms beneath. There are echoes of hauntological electronics and early IDM experiments here, but The Rituals avoid nostalgia entirely, steering the track instead towards something crepuscular and alive.
Stepping out of the shadows, Broken Frog Lamp pushes forward on a rolling rhythmic framework as melodies slowly force their way through layers of sea mist and static interference. Atmospheric without losing momentum, the track balances submerged emotional weight with hypnotic forward motion.
The mood softens but never dissipates on Salty Air, a damp and dewy excursion into dubbed-out psychedelia. Rainfall ambience, skittering stone percussion and swelling pads fold around sliding sub bass and filtered stabs, while jazzy cymbals and syncopated hats gently pull the track forward, as the condensation clings to the hardware.
Closing cut “Night, Castle, Reflection” drifts into darker territories, where redlining drums and pulsing low-end pressure throb beneath thick layers of saturated texture. Woozy synth work smears against tightly controlled rhythms, creating an immersive and slightly uneasy atmosphere that closes the EP at its most introspective point.
Taken as a whole, the EP transports you into the midnight hour, when the comforting embrace of stillness can easily nudge you towards hallucination, dissolving the boundaries between dream state and dancefloor hypnosis.