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Taba voices a subtle yet surprising shift for the Japanese musician and producer Satomimagae. Observing and absorbing the fleeting scenes and sounds of life flowing outside of her home studio, Taba unfolds as a series of vignettes that document the personal and the universal. Satomi sings beyond herself in an orbit of souls and systems known and unknown, seen and unseen, in the present and in the strange flux of memory, leaving linear songwriting to rest for circuitous stories expanded and expansive in tone and texture. Following the logic of taba, a Japanese term for a bunch, bundle or grouping together of different things, the album is assembled as a loose collection of short stories. Shapeshifting into something like a poet-narrator, Satomi casts her writer's eye to the often perplexing shapes that form from quotidian events and exchanges defining our increasingly alienated age. Where Satomi's last full-length, 2021's Hanazono, bloomed from the lush soil of a private inner sphere, the bird's eye of Taba searches to place the artist_somewhere, somehow_within a wider, wilder world. Collaborations with other artists and musicians close to Satomi's universe further elevate the album's sweeping sonics. Synthesizer lines from Norio, who also helps define the album's visual identity through photo and video, enliven the tender ballad "Kodama." The bell-like Rhodes piano ringing in and around Satomi's guitar on "Dottsu" is played by Akhira Sano, who created the cover art for her 2021 Colloid EP. Yuya Shito's clarinet was the missing puzzle piece that completed "Spells," and it was also Yuya who mixed Taba with an ear for its organic textures and elegantly frayed edges, giving utterance to a distinctly different energy than Satomi's earlier expressions. The tonal and rhythmic play that lay the foundation of these songs also animates a colorful palette of melodic gestures, noisy resonances and pointed moments captured by Satomi's close-at-hand recorder. While Taba is still carried by the innate intimacy that has defined Satomi's music to date, these songs channel her newly spacious and inquisitive songwriting approach, unlocking unusual layers in the process. Some are subsumed in the speculative poetics of sound design, while others peer through the window of bedroom pop. Gathering imagistic reflections, tracing vast ideations and quietly lingering in humble moments, Taba connects vivid lines between the individual and the collective, the constructed and the cosmic, the articulated and the felt. Satomi's sonic tales gain an eloquent coherence by the simple fact of existing in conversation, humming a harmony of parts that buzzes with the tangled circuitry of a life in motion. Taba is the fifth album from Japanese musician, songwriter and dream traveler Satomimagae, following her 2021 album Hanazono and the 2023 reissue of her debut album Awa, both for RVNG Intl. On Taba, Satomimagae leaves linear songwriting to rest for circuitous stories expanded and expansive in tone and texture, unfolding as a series of vignettes that document both the personal and the universal. Some of the songs on Taba feature intimate moments captured on Satomi's hand recorder, poetic moments of sound design animated by tonal and rhythmic bedroom pop foundations. As with Hanazono, Taba's album artwork features a wooden block print by Satomi's sister, the artist Natsumi Magae.

Jan Akkerman (b. 1946) stands apart as a singular figure in the realm of rock and beyond. A Dutch guitarist of unparalleled versatility, he earned international acclaim in 1973 when he topped the prestigious Melody Maker readers’ poll, surpassing icons like Eric Clapton (2nd), Jimmy Page (5th), and Carlos Santana (10th). His fame, however, has never defined his artistry. For Akkerman, it’s always been about the music—any genre, as long as it resonates. He’s a lifelong improviser who approaches each performance as a new adventure. Akkerman first rose to prominence with Focus, a band that embodied the grandiose instrumental rock spirit of the 1970s. Long compositions, dazzling technique, and adventurous arrangements made them a cornerstone of progressive rock. Despite the accolades, Akkerman remained true to his calling. When asked about his success, he has always brushed it aside, preferring to let his guitar do the talking. Side 1 of this record captures Akkerman’s stunning performance on July 10, 2011, at the Nile Hall in Rotterdam. Here, he showcases his ability to take listeners on a sonic journey. The mellow “Tranquilizer” offers a relaxed groove, followed by the heartfelt ballad “You Do Something to Me,” unfolding emotion without words. In “Piétons”—a gospel-tinged blues—trumpeter Eric Vloeimans delivers a fiery solo before the leader propels the piece into uncharted territory. Side 2 brings us back to an earlier moment, recorded in July 2005 at the Paul Acket Paviljoen in The Hague. “Streetwalker” delivers a funk-driven explosion featuring alto saxophonist Benjamin Herman, while “The Zebrah” sends Vloeimans soaring into the musical stratosphere, only to have Akkerman reignite the piece with blistering guitar lines, his band driving forward like a well-tuned Mercedes on an open highway. Akkerman’s live performances are as unpredictable as they are electrifying. Whether sharing the stage with legends or newcomers, his spontaneous creativity makes every concert unique—a master class in musical freedom. Jan Akkerman remains a touchstone for guitarists and fans alike, an authentic improviser whose name still elicits one universal response from any seasoned Dutch rock enthusiast: “He’s the best guitarist in the world.” The North Sea Jazz Concert Series includes officially licensed releases that will be released as standard on 180-gram white vinyl in a sleeve of heavy paper and printed on reversed board. The records are captured in mainly black-and-white artwork by Hans Pol in his signature style of the festival with inspiration from the covers of classic older jazz releases from the Blue Note label, for example. The liner notes are written by journalist and jazz expert Jeroen de Valk. For all recordings it’s a first time ever release on vinyl!

LA-based composer/producer/guitarist Dustin Wong returns to Hausu Mountain with Gloria, his third album on the label since 2018. Wong has established a multifaceted career over the last two decades that encompasses his solo work centered around guitar performance and live looping, roles as a guitarist in Baltimore-based bands Ponytail and Ecstatic Sunshine, and a wide catalog of collaborations with artists including Takako Minekawa, Good Willsmith, and Patrick Shiroishi. In composing his solo music, Wong has always transmuted his own life experiences into the thematic source material for emotionally resonant works rippling with fine-grain details and intricate looping architectures. With Gloria, the composer channels specific memories and pieces of his family history into a deeply personal narrative arc focused on his grandmother Gloria Violet Lee Wong, who passed away in January 2024, just shy of her 96th birthday. Using a road trip they took together down the west coast of America in 2023 as the direct inspiration for the individual scenes and flashes of imagery that form the album’s continuously unfolding structure, Wong presents Gloria as a memorial to her storied life and a celebration of the warmth and kindness that characterized their close relationship. A moment-to-moment travelogue that zooms out in its full scope to evoke a multi-generational memoir that spans decades and continents, Gloria gives Wong space to open his heart and uncover his roots — all while experimenting with new techniques in live performance and sound design that lead his music into territories that he has never before explored.

Big new release by Peter Van Hoesen! Continuing his exploration of intricate techno systems, their effect and direct perimeter of action, Peter van Hoesen turns in his newest four-track piece, ‘Prime Directive’: a fascinating dive into the artist’s shape-shifting headspace and inner creative chaos.

Fuelled on a furnace-hot mix of abstract-leaning immersion and hi-octane rhythmic thrust, ‘Prime Directive’ looks at contemporary techno from the angle of experimentation and intuitive abandon. The result comes in the form of four distinct movements, each carving out their own logic and associated behaviour out an endless pool of potentialities. Here comes chaology unfolding in all its unadulterated, visceral glory.

‘Definition by Absence’ breaks the trip in to the sound of a faux-random symphony: its train-like swing and fiery bass seesaw coalesce through an elliptic fluttering of sorts, iterative and not, patterns moving in and out of synchronicity as van Hoesen applies more or less pressure on both ends. All in gusty in-your-face-ness, ‘Variables Edit 1’ whirls and swirls like an ominous vengeance of nature; Its puncturing kicks and whistling menace set against stellar winds and rabid machinery on the prowl for its next victim.

An even more unsettling piece of disjointedly arrhythmic, anti-club music for the dance floor, ‘Prime Directive’ will have you zoning out like a bad dream, flush with metronome-faced monsters and molten clocks hanging from dead trees. ‘Morphology’ could be PVH’s attempt at giving his concepts a carnal carcass to hold onto. Here, rhythm becomes somewhat less erratic, offering his 360-degree vision more melodic surface and actual room for dispersion. One to keep the boundaries pushed and status-quo challenged, this is techno at its most entrancingly bold and fearless.

*This new four-track epic from Peter van Hoesen comes draped in a fine piece of artwork courtesy of Atact, and pressed according to our standards in 180g audiophile quality so you get to experience the Belgian master's chiselled sound design in all its glory.

The signal mutates. Following the first installment, Parallax Effect PT.2 finds Versalife shifting gears, distilling his unmistakable rhythmic instincts into something even more elastic and unpredictable. Smeared low-end and restless sequences coil around a framework of percussive movement, flickering between restraint and momentum. There's an underlying tension--one moment held in suspense, the next unfolding into fluid motion. The machine logic remains intact, but with an organic pulse running through it, shaping each track in real time. A fitting counterweight to PT.1, this second chapter bends the perspective once more, closing the series with a sense of motion still lingering in the air.

On ‘Cordial’, Ursula Sereghy traces the sensation of home; not as a place, but as something fleeting and deeply felt. Comfort appears in glimpses, nestled between moments of dissonance and unraveling structure. There is joy, but it carries the weight of absence, the quiet grief of realizing what was missing all along. A laughter that is both liberating and bittersweet.

Sereghy’s music moves with no fixed center, shedding hierarchies and opening itself to the unknown. Sounds unravel and reform: fragments of voices, reshaped textures, the shimmer of manipulated recordings all bending into semi-familiar contours. In this space, harmony is not a destination but an unfolding process, a web of shifting connections rather than rigid form.

Deeply drawn to natural processes, Sereghy’s music resonates with an elemental force: chemical reactions, unseen currents, the quiet logic of interconnection. Sound becomes a space where trust takes shape, where loss is acknowledged but never final, and where the act of feeling remains, above all, an act of survival. It is music in constant negotiation with itself - dismantling, reshaping, and reaching towards something vast, untethered and luminous.

A collaboration between US label Astral Spirits and Sweden’s Thanatosis Produktion, It could / If I marks the debut album from Stockholm-based duo Johan Jutterström (saxophone) and Alex Zethson (piano). Together, they reinterpret jazz standards and explore an eclectic mix of compositions by Leonard Cohen, Pet Shop Boys, John Lurie, and 19th-century composer Alexander Fesca.

Jutterström and Zethson’s musical partnership dates back to their teenage years, when they bonded over a love for jazz and the struggle to find their own voice within it. Their duo work has always been about navigating that tension—trying to capture jazz, failing, and finding another way forward. This album continues that pursuit, emphasizing not just what is played, but how it is played.

The record’s title reflects their approach: a process of reaching for something just out of grasp. Songs are deconstructed, rearranged, and treated like palimpsests—scrubbed clean and rewritten while allowing traces of the original to shine through. The result is a dynamic and deeply personal exploration of sound, filled with both reverence and reinvention.

Both musicians have extensive backgrounds in jazz, improvisation, and experimental music. Zethson, a prolific pianist and composer, has worked with ensembles like Fire! Orchestra and Trondheim Jazz Orchestra, and plays keyboards in ensembles such as Vilhelm Bromander Unfolding Orchestra, Goran Kajfes Tropiques, Vathres, and Angles (current with the jazzopera The Death of Kalypso). Jutterström, a saxophonist with an artistic PhD, has performed internationally and runs the ensemble STHLM svaga, a band who have performed commissioned pieces by jazz legends such as Ron Carter, Archie Shepp and Roscoe Mitchell.

With It could / If I, the duo crafts an intricate, ever-shifting dialogue—an ongoing attempt to "stick jazz music," as they put it, constantly approaching, never quite arriving, and finding beauty in the pursuit.

Disco Gioconda is more than just an edit; it’s a story unfolding on the dance floor. A journey to rediscover guitar riffs that defy the currents of time. A record meant to be experienced from start to finish, immersing the listener in a captivating narrative—full of gripping tones and unexpected twists that build to a thrilling crescendo.

Entering its 26th year of activity, the morphing, Los Angeles based experimental outfit, Sissy Spacek, joins Shelter Press with Entrance, among the project's most captivating outings to date. Encountering the duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma joined in various configurations by an incredible cast of collaborators - Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, Ralf Wehowsky, and C Spencer Yeh - collectively transformed into a series a deeply intimate and delicate gestures of musique concrète, Entrance radically repositions the possibilities presented by group improvisation outside of time and place. Founded at the end of the last millennium, the Los Angeles based project, Sissy Spacek, initially emerged from the knotted, fiery context 1990s American noise and grindcore, producing sheets of visceral sonority that quickly set the scene on its head. Going through numerous evolutions, before eventually settling as a duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma - joined by a rotating and often recurring cast collaborators - over the last 25 years the band has continuously entered states of evolution that have defied the expectations of its own context, seeding the sonic extremes noise with subtle and sophisticated approaches to free improvisation and musique concrète. Fiercely positioning its efforts within the outer reaches of contemporary experimental music, while resisting the constraints of a singular sound or proximity, Wiese regards Sissy Spacek as being primarily centred around the practice of musique concrète and the pursuit of extremes. From its earliest releases - collage treatments of material gathered from the band's full throttle practice sessions - the project's conceptual framework has continuously evolved within a deeply engaged process of experimentation, not only reworking tactical approaches, but also definitions and perception regarding the location and action of their work. In recent years, this has led to an increasingly varied and diverse output. Percolating within, is a thread marked by a striking sense of delicacy and intimacy, driving forward while doubling as an unexpected challenge, in real time, to perceptions connected to the band's past. Entrance is the most recent of these. Embarking upon the four compositions that comprise the finalized four sides of Entrance, Wiese and Mumma enlisted longstanding collaborators, Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, and C Spencer Yeh, as well as new initiate, Ralf Wehowsky (of the seminal German electronic noise collective P16.D4), requesting a contribution of sounds from each, determined by a general set guidelines that dictated certain qualities the given sonorities, while allowing for the expression of each player's distinct creative voice. The sets of resulting recordings were then chopped, harvested, manipulated, and reassembled as the four tape compositions that make up the album - Web Of Unfolding Appearance, Figure Of Reflected Light, Trancher And The Inheritors, True Dimension (From The Opaque - Spike) - each blurring the lines of authorship and clear creative proximity in remarkable ways. Where historical gestures of musique concrète tend to draw upon non-instrumental sound sources - regarding its sonorous material as raw elements, unburdened by inherent meaning or association, to be transformed and imbued with musicality - Sissy Spacek turns this position on its head. Entrance comprises works of musique concrète that not only draw upon instrumental sound sources, with all their possible meanings or associations, but also individual characters and personalities of their players, crediting each resulting piece to its respective configuration of contributors. As such, Entrance is an effort of sound collage defined by a rare sense of intimacy and humanity: four pieces that often take on the resemblance of group improvisation, but have, in fact, been assembled outside of time and place. Bent under the ever-present hand of Wiese's tape treatments and manipulation, each of the album's four compositions unfurl startling states of sonic abstraction and percolating texture, marked by a striking sense of hard-shifting structure, that culminate as tense, driven manifestations of ambient music: scrapes, squeals, rattles feedback, rolling drums, bouncing tones, whispers, bent electronics, electric artefacts, and seemingly everything else under the sun, configured into immersive, sublime mediations in sound from the most improbable events.

Berlin based Greek artist Georgios Papamanoglou returns to his Deep Series imprint with the ‘Instan Bliss’ EP this March, accompanied by two remixes from Iron Curtis.

Georgios Papamanoglou has been been involved in the underground House and Techno scene since the turn of the millennium, making him mark through his multiple imprints Diaphan Music and Deep Series with releases from himself and other artists such as Nekes and Ekkohaus among others. After a few years hiatus 2023 saw Georgios return to relaunch his Deep Series label with the ‘Dark Path’ EP, featuring a remix from fellow Greek Techno stalwart, XDB. Here he returns with his new project ‘Instant Bliss’ made up of two originals and two remixes from the much loved Office Recordings and Hudd Traxx regular, Iron Curtis.

‘Millions Of Sounds’ opens the release and sees Georgios lay down a bubbling arpeggio lead line, shimmering analogue drums and intricately oscillating synth lines all dynamically evolving and unfolding throughout. Iron Curtis’ ‘Drama Mix’ of ‘Instant Bliss’ follows and sees the German artist employ hypnontic atmospherics, cinematics strings and a choppy bass sequence alongside stripped back drums.

Opening the b-side is Iron Curtis’ second remix the ‘Supersorry Mix’ of ‘Instant Bliss’, this time round laying focus on squelchy 303 licks, crisp breakbeats and an underlying textural tension. Papamanaglou’s original of ‘Instant Bliss’ then completes the package, a nine minune cinematic journey through enchanting strings, polyrhythms and robotic glithes.

'It begins with a shoebox of mysterious provenance, full of recordings from the Vendée department on France’s western seaboard: songs of love and war, life and death, played out on land and sea. Songs passed down and sung by ordinary men and women, gracefully delivered with the poetic economy which unites the folk song of all peoples.

Next it takes a group of contemporary musicians to make selections from this treasure trove and sing these old songs anew; to sing them for their beauty, of course, and to reclaim the people’s tradition from those who would seek to exploit it for nefarious political ends. Who better for this task than Tartine de Clous, a singing trio from Vendée’s neighbouring department of Charente-Maritime, who burst into national and international consciousness with their debut album "Sans Folklore" in 2015? The result of their shoebox rummagings, the new album "Compter les dents", recorded in 2019 and finally seeing the light of day, is bound to delight old fans and win them many new ones.

Time makes many’s the alteration, and "Compter les dents" finds 'les garçons' - Geoffroy Dudouit, Thomas Georget and Guillaume Maupin - in a different state of being from their debut release. The trio, friends since youth, have certainly matured between albums, as one would expect; consequently the newer performances are more considered and poised, unfolding with a patient confidence. A relaxed domesticity prevails, something to do with the fact that the album was entirely recorded chez les amis, in contrast to the first album, which was mostly recorded at live performances in bars and night-spots across France.

Lending gravitas to the grain of their voices we mark a deepened richness, doubtless born of the various vicissitudes of daily existence which these gentlemen - and we too as citizens of this turmoiled globe - have weathered in the intervening years. Not too dissimilar, in fact,
from some of the vicissitudes detailed in those old Vendée songs. Plus 'ça change', right?

There’s a greater complexity and subtlety to their unique three-part harmonising, too. Their voices mesh in even stronger - almost telepathic - 'fraternité' than ever before: now commanding and mighty as a full-rigged counter-vessel, now gentle and lulling as a mother’s
cradle-croon, or as the whisper in a lover’s ear.

Three legendary figures of French traditional music, now sadly departed, preside as tutelary spirits over Compter les dents. They are: the late Claude Flagel, musician and ethnomusicologist; and the late Jean-Loup Baly of the well-known 1970s band Mélusine. Most of the album was recorded by Claude in the Brussels home he shared with his late wife Lou Flagel. The album is dedicated to the memory of Jean-Loup, Claude and Lou.

For the first time there are several guest instrumentalists working their magic to expand the Tartine de Clous sound. Jean-Loup plays a characterful accordéon on the song ‘La Veuve'. The other guests are: Maurice Artus (voice), Robert Thébaut (violin), Quentin Manfroy (piccolo, contrabassoon), Marceau Portron (cigar box guitar). Their contributions add even more conviviality to that which the trio of singers already share, a sensation which will doubtless be shared by those who happen to find a place in their lives for "Compter les dents".'

Liner notes by Alasdair Roberts.

TC.KYLIE x The Hourglass brings dynamic jazz fusion music from her debut album, integrating Hong Kong, Japanese and British cultures. Kylie leads her band dynamically on stage playing keyboard and synth keytar, iconic in Japanese jazz rock & highly memorable to watch.TC.KYLIE, a jazz fusion pianist, performs regularly in both Hong Kong and London. Inspired by the likes of Shaun Martin and Robert Glasper, she also continues to write songs in the areas of Japanese acid jazz, following Fox Capture Plan, Jabberloop, Toconoma, Jizue and Bohemianvoodoo. Prior to becoming a performing artist, Kylie previously worked as a news documentary journalist for radio and TV networks in Hong Kong, She spent much of her time connecting human stories and investigating the connections between people and society which was inspiring and enlightening but also often heavy and difficult within increasingly tricky political landscapes unfolding around her.

Under the changing social environment in her hometown and with the hit of the pandemic, she decided to take an indefinite well-earned break in 2020 to take care of her own well-being & passions. During a stay at a jazz cafe and hostel in Lake Towada in Aomori, Japan, encouraged by the hostel owner as a jazz enthusiast; Kylie sat in front of the piano, contemplated and played scattered notes to express what she had been enduring during her time as a political/social reporter.

Finding herself joyfully picking up music in her life again after years of leaving it behind, she wrote the song "The Last Grief" a tribute to one of her deepest sorrows and in remembrance of her best friend in childhood who battled heavily with depression. This song went on to be an official selection for the International Toronto Music Video Festival as well as the Toronto Asian Independent Film Festival in 2023.

‘Moonlight Concessions’ goes back to basics, a return for Throwing Muses to their esoteric off-kilter best courtesy of Kristin’s pin-sharp sketches and their suitably abrasive musical arrangements. The album follows their acclaimed ‘Sun Racket’ from 2020, a heady set filled with tough and tender tales spiked with surreal imagery. Produced by Kristin Hersh at Steve Rizzo's Stable Sound Studio in Portsmouth, Rhode Island, ‘Moonlight Concessions’ is a collection of snippets from everyday life writ large - think Raymond Carver Short Cuts, overheard conversations, recounted happenings and telling one-liners, all sewed together to illustrate the times as they slowly mature, fully peppered with original Muses’ vim and vigour. ‘Drugstore Drastic’ is a kerbside soliloquy caught en route to a more alluring rendezvous. Built on a brisk acoustic strum with a guitar sub-melody underpinning proceedings, it’s an unfolding tale of social awareness from a blurred sub-conscious. ‘Summer Of Love’ began as a bet with a guy for a dollar that revolved around the idea that the seasons don’t change us. The album opener, it’s a haunting baroque overture, bowed and brooding. ‘Libretto’s strings offset the acoustic ambience, the hot and cold of longing at the very heart of it, a thematic driver filed with warmth in a safe haven lubricated by tequila. Written in the differing South Coast environs of The Gulf Of Mexico and Southern California, ‘Moonlight Concessions’ pulls from the star clusters that light both, generating optimism and hope in varying degrees. Hersh explains, “In New Orleans the stars look greenish-blue, as it’s below sea level and swamp-lit. But on Moonlight Beach, they glow icy white. All these songs were written in these two glowy places, which helped our sonic technique find itself.”

compiled by tsunaki kadowaki
artwork by yoshirotten
mastering by kuniyuki takahashi

Tsunaki Kadowaki, a staff member at Kyoto’s record store Meditations, the supervisor of "New Age Music Disc Guide", and the founder of Sad Disco, curates the fourth installment of "Midnight in Tokyo" themed around Ambient Kayō.

The Midnight in Tokyo series by Studio Mule focuses on Japanese music, serving as a soundtrack for Tokyo nights—whether for home listening, club play, or as a driving BGM, transcending location and space. After a six-year hiatus, the fourth volume takes "Ambient Kayō" as its new perspective, compiling genre-defying tracks released between 1977 and 1999 to explore the intersection of Japanese ambient and pop music.

For this long-awaited fourth installment, selections were made regardless of record label status (major or independent), era, format (vinyl or CD), original release price, or prior reissues. Instead, the focus was on music that deeply moves the listener, is open-minded and evocative, brims with inspiration and spiritual insight, and embodies the "utagokoro" (singing heart) of Japanese artists.

Opening the compilation is "Umi e Kinasai" by Yōsui Inoue, a legendary Japanese singer-songwriter whose works have recently gained renewed interest as hidden gems of Walearic and ambient pop

Composed and arranged by Katsu Hoshi—who is also known for his arrangements on Inoue’s masterpiece Ice World—the track features renowned players such as Masayoshi Takanaka, Hiroki Inui, and Shigeru Inoue. The song embodies a yearning for Balearic horizons, tinged with youthful vibrancy and sentimentality.

Next, "Oritatamu Umi", compiled from Keiko Nosaka, a 20-string koto player, and George Murasaki, a pioneer of Okinawan rock, is an instrumental track from their album "Niraikanai Requiem 1945". As the title suggests, it carries themes of requiem and remembrance, conveying poetic lyricism even without words. Blending Ryukyuan/Okinawan harmonies and indigenous elements, it unfolds as an intimate and nostalgic piece of progressive rock.

Also featured is "Natsu no Kowareru Koro" by Higurashi, a folk-rock band led by Seiichi Takeda, formerly a guitarist of The Remainders of The Clover, the predecessor of RC Succession. Like the opening track "Umi e Kinasai", this song was also produced by Katsu Hoshi. It stands as a folk/new music piece that takes a step into an "otherworldly" realm, recommended for fans of Twin Cosmos and Masumi Hara.

From the enigmatic Blue, the only work left by the mysterious composer S.R. Kinoshita, comes "Mangrove", a hidden treasure of Japan's ambient/new age scene from the CD era. With an oriental and enigmatic atmosphere, the track evokes a mystical world of deep, uncharted jungles, unfolding as an otherworldly New Age Kayō.

"Yaponesia Sakura", selected from Rehabilual’s sole album New Child, is a masterpiece of Japanese new age music. Produced by Swami Dhyan Akamo, a disciple of Indian meditation teacher Osho and a renowned balafon player, the track features Michio Ogawa (Chakra) and Atsuo Fujimoto (Colored Music). Their collective artistry creates an exquisite spiritual ambient pop sound.

"Asa no Hitoshizuku", the opening folk song from Sachiko Kanenobu’s album Sachiko, is also included. Known for her legendary folk album Misora, produced by Haruomi Hosono, Kanenobu’s fourth album after resuming her career was inspired by her experiences living in San Francisco and revolves around the theme of "love." This track carries the same intimate poetic world as Misora, imbued with a pure, crystalline innocence.

From the synth-pop band E.S. Island, known for the Haruomi Hosono-produced *Teku Teku Mami", comes "Yume Fūrin ", selected from their long-lost new age classic Nanpū from Hachijo. Created while the band’s core duo was living in Hachijō Island, the album aimed to sonically capture "the high and happy vibrations of everyday island life." This track offers a dynamic, tribal-infused New Age Kayō experience.

Dubbed "the world's first Min’yō House Mix" "Esashi Oiwake (Maeuta) " comes from Kanazawa Akiko HOUSE MIX Ⅰ, a collaboration between Japanese house music pioneer Soichi Terada and Akiko Kanazawa, a renowned min’yō singer. Through the prism of club music, Hokkaido's Esashi Oiwake, one of Japan’s most iconic folk songs, is transformed into a futuristic ambient pop piece with intricate sound design.

The compilation also includes "Sweet Ong Choh", a track from Voice From Asia, a group active between 1989 and 1992 featuring vocal artist Shizuru Ohtaka. Taken from their imaginative minimal work Voice From Asia, released under Aoyama Spiral’s music label Newsic, the song presents a tranquil, tribal-minimal soundscape enriched by ethnic instruments.

Hailed by Haruomi Hosono as having “a shaman residing in her voice,” singer-songwriter Nami Hōdatsu also appears in the selection. Known for her collaborations with Henry Kawahara, her debut album featured "Asa-Hikari-Ame-Yume", a track that now stands as a precursor to modern vocaloid/synthesized vocal music—a hidden gem of post-choir aesthetics that deserves rediscovery.

Likewise, "Tennessee Waltz", from Naomi Akimoto’s album One Night Stand, supported by members of Mariah, serves as another early prototype of vocaloid/synthesized vocal music. The track weaves fragmented vocal samples, pastoral yet sweetly minimal synth sounds, and mechanical beats into a strikingly unconventional piece in the history of Japanese music.

Closing the compilation is "Heaven Electric", a track from Nav Katze’s album Gentle & Elegance, which featured remixes by Autechre, Seefeel, and Sun Electric. Merging elements of IDM, ambient techno, and chillout, the song embodies an optimism reminiscent of space music while seamlessly blending a mystical Japanese aesthetic—an ambient pop masterpiece.

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The album presents 12 exquisite pop tracks infused with an ambient feeling, resonating deeply with the evolving landscape of the mid-2020s—a time of post-hyperpop and Y2K revival.

Tsunaki Kadowaki (Compiler)

Born in 1993 in Yonago, Tottori, Tsunaki Kadowaki is a staff member and buyer at Kyoto’s Meditations record store. He is the editor of New Age Music Disc Guide (DU BOOKS) and a contributor to Music Magazine, Record Collectors' Magazine, ele-king, and more. Kadowaki has written liner notes for multiple Japanese releases (Brian Eno, Masahiro Sugaya etc.) and runs the Sad Disco music label under Disk Union. He also curates Spotify’s official New Age Music playlist and performed as a DJ at YCAM’s Audio Base Camp #3 in 2024.

My Boy, the third solo record from New Zealand singer/ songwriter Marlon Williams, announces an artist emerging anew. Gone is the solemn, country-indebted crooner with the velvet voice - in his place comes a playful, shapeshifting creature. Following the release of his second album, 2018's Make Way For Love, Williams' toured the world, playing major festivals and collaborating with Lorde, Yo-Yo Ma and Florence Welch. He also forged a fledgling acting career with roles in films The True History of the Kelly Gang and Netflix series Sweet Tooth, as well as a cameo in Oscar winning film A Star Is Born. My Boy parlays this flush of worldly experience into a vivid record as spirited and kinetic as the unfolding life of its performer. "I've always explored different character elements in my music," says Williams. "And the more I get into acting, the more tricks I'm learning about representation and presentation. To get braver and bolder with exploring shifting contexts and new ways of doing things." As the pandemic paused global travel, Williams found himself at home in New Zealand, reconnecting with family and friends. Soon new demos and lyrical themes emerged: of self-identity and escapism; tribalism and a gnarled family tree; and ruminations on the role of masculinity and mateship. Co-produced with Tom Healy and recorded at Roundhead Studios in New Zealand, My Boy finds Williams' leading a new band through a set of genre-hopping tunes: from the cheery sway of `My Boy' and chugging `80s noir sheen of `Thinking Of Nina', to the charging synth of `River Rival', and the sultry pop jam `Don't Go Back.' All this sonic and emotional whiplash is intentional, and ultimately My Boy sees Williams having fun, even while interrogating the behaviors of himself and those around him.

My Boy, the third solo record from New Zealand singer/ songwriter Marlon Williams, announces an artist emerging anew. Gone is the solemn, country-indebted crooner with the velvet voice - in his place comes a playful, shapeshifting creature. Following the release of his second album, 2018's Make Way For Love, Williams' toured the world, playing major festivals and collaborating with Lorde, Yo-Yo Ma and Florence Welch. He also forged a fledgling acting career with roles in films The True History of the Kelly Gang and Netflix series Sweet Tooth, as well as a cameo in Oscar winning film A Star Is Born. My Boy parlays this flush of worldly experience into a vivid record as spirited and kinetic as the unfolding life of its performer. "I've always explored different character elements in my music," says Williams. "And the more I get into acting, the more tricks I'm learning about representation and presentation. To get braver and bolder with exploring shifting contexts and new ways of doing things." As the pandemic paused global travel, Williams found himself at home in New Zealand, reconnecting with family and friends. Soon new demos and lyrical themes emerged: of self-identity and escapism; tribalism and a gnarled family tree; and ruminations on the role of masculinity and mateship. Co-produced with Tom Healy and recorded at Roundhead Studios in New Zealand, My Boy finds Williams' leading a new band through a set of genre-hopping tunes: from the cheery sway of `My Boy' and chugging `80s noir sheen of `Thinking Of Nina', to the charging synth of `River Rival', and the sultry pop jam `Don't Go Back.' All this sonic and emotional whiplash is intentional, and ultimately My Boy sees Williams having fun, even while interrogating the behaviors of himself and those around him.

In a bold step! Myles Sanko has taken full creative charge over every element of this project—from writing, composing, arranging, recording, mixing and producing to distribution through his own label, 213 Music.

"Let It Unfold" represents a pivotal moment in Sanko's musical journey, demonstrating his unwavering dedication to his artistic vision as an independent artist and visionary. The album provides listeners with a deeply intimate musical exploration, serving as a form of therapy that addresses past childhood traumas and empowers future dreams, all while radiating a hopeful energy.

Inspired by his love for soul, jazz, and hip-hop, and rhythmic influences from his Ghanaian roots, Sanko delicately blends these musical styles to create a unique contemporary sound. His distinct approach to songwriting enriches each track with emotional depth and authenticity, presenting a new level of artistic expression.

The album's theme of self-acceptance and self-love is encapsulated in its title, symbolising the gradual process of personal growth and healing. The creation of this album has been a therapeutic endeavour for Sanko, helping him embrace his vulnerabilities and celebrate his strengths.

Over the last ten years, Chris Imler's perhaps not quite as rapid but equally unstoppable rise has coincided with the world's free fall. “The Internet will break my heart” marks the steepest artistic stage to date. We see a man whose entire oeuvre is a late work, at the dizzying heights of his game. “So, the Internet, that's a really hot topic”, I can already hear blasé hisses here and there in the boxes. But the truth is that the topic is annoyingly topical. Because only now is the world wide web unfolding its full disappointing potential. All pipe dreams of an emancipatory power of the digital multitude (remember Negri/Hardt, haha) are as completely extinguished as the Arab Spring was swallowed up by the pre - nuclear winter. While they are capped from above in authoritarian states, social media in the so - called free world are primarily used by lumpen capital to undermine humanistic standards and by the remnants of the left for self - destructive polarization. But the cute animal videos! They too have their dark side, which Imler brings up in the title song: “The animals in the real world are under pressure”. - Jens Friebe

'Liberamente' is now available for the first time on cassette. Dawn Chorus and the Infallible Sea create soft-textured and slowly unfolding sonic landscapes, somewhere between guitar-oriented drone music and modern classical. Liberamente is the kind of album that demands attention and patience from the listener, yet it's ultimately a very rewarding one. Stylistically Dawn Chorus and the Infallible Sea sums up several decades of American soundscape and drone music, taking threads from Windy & Carl, Auburn Lull, and Stars of the Lid then weaves them into a contemporary, and sonically adventurous whole. On the surface it suggests simplicity, but dig deeper and the seven pieces on Liberamente reveals a rare compositional dexterity. This is minimalism at its finest.

Ten years on, Joana Gama and Luís Fernandes show no signs of slowing down. Over the past decade, the duo has released five albums, composed soundtracks for film and television, and created pieces for performing arts. With “Strata”, they embark on a bold exploration of their musical identity, breaking new ground by seeking the primordial, the raw, and forging a deeper creative synergy. This evolution makes their music feel less like a conversation and more like a unified, introspective monologue.

Until now, their work has largely been defined by dialogue - a dynamic exchange of ideas evident in their earlier records. However, in their relentless drive to push boundaries, they now turn inward, embracing a monologue as a pathway for growth, innovation, and celebration of their journey so far. Two key elements shape this transition: Joana’s growing affinity for synthesizers over piano, a direction initiated in “There’s no knowing”, and her integration of field recordings gathered from diverse locations around the world. Rather than stepping into each other’s domain, the duo finds common ground, creating music that thrives on harmony and introspection.

“Strata” stands as Joana and Luís's quieter and most cohesive record to date. It reflects their desire to craft music that resonates with the natural world, unfolding as a seamless stream of sound that enhances their connection and invites the listener into their creative process. While their previous works were compelling, they often felt distant, as if the listener was observing from the sidelines. “Strata”, by contrast, draws the listener in, encouraging them to fill the spaces and find their own place within the duo’s monologue.

This process climaxes in the closing track, "Geode," where the subtle sounds of debris underscore the tightly woven structure of “Strata”. It’s a testament to the duo's commitment to evolution and their ability to surprise both themselves and their audience. A decade into their collaboration, “Strata” reaffirms Joana and Luís's creative vitality, offering a record that feels both fresh and deeply rooted in their artistic vision.

For ALT014, Altered Circuits presents its first Various Artists release. In addition to the label's co-founder, three friends of the label appear on this heterogeneous, club-oriented 12''. Portal, with its breakbeat layered drum section and spartan bass hook, sounds like classic Innershades from the start. When the angular leads and slowly phased, ominous chords hit, we are reminded of the artist's fondness for the new beat genre and his ability to translate its tropes and conventions to the present. On Show You Love, Mr. Ho combines skippy two-step drums with an MS20 type of flat bass. After introducing a one-bar mid-bass arpeggiator, gently swelling pads, leisurely spread side riffs and reverb-drenched musings join, calibrating the vibe to lush and groovy. On the other side, Oshana treats groove as the focal point with her Hey Kiss Kiss contribution. Over its 6-minute course, the snappy 909 kick rarely relents while a bunch of often short, many a time looped sequences emerge and disappear, unfolding a hypnotic tapestry of textures. Rising talent Salomee closes the VA with Late Night Summer, a track capable of setting the floor in motion at any moment. It revolves around a portamento-heavy, neon-tinged lead that lingers long after the track ends and a sturdy, efficient one-note bass pulse.

2024 Repress
In early 2023, Tresor Records will reissue the sole output from Shifted Phases entitled The Cosmic Memoirs Of The Late
Great Rupert J. Rosinthrope. Initially released in 2002, soon after James Stinson passed away, this LP plays a mysterious and
compelling role in the Drexciya journey. While other records of Drexciya and related projects have received numerous reprints
and editions, The Cosmic Memoirs... has remained out of print since its release. This rarity leaves it more open to
interpretation with its place in the Drexciyan storm series, as it became increasingly hard to find and underexplored.
Track titles Solar Wind, White Dwarf, and Lonely Journey of the Comet Bopp reveal a focus on cosmic realms, suggesting a link
with the Drexciya LP Grava 4 that moves from the underwater to the galactic. As it launches with mechanical blows on a
precise orbit, each repetition entrenches the gravitational pull in the galaxy of Shifted Phases. In many places, it sounds like
the readout of frequencies harvested from outer space, pockmarked with packet loss from the millions of kilometres distance
travelled.
The music is hard to contain, intuitively restless in motion through its unfolding universe and achingly resonant. It shapeshifts
across aectedly melodic sequences such as in Lonely Journey..., to the sparse, hard-hitting timbres found in Alien Vessel
Distress Call and the mangled reverse vocals in The Freak Show, somewhat reminiscent of another Drexciya side-project, Glass
Domain. The mythology of Drexciya is evident in how keenly James Stinson and Gerald Donald created their imaginary worlds.
In Crossing Of The Sun-Ra Nebula, there is an undisputable reference to another Afro-futurist who delved deep into a galaxy of
their own making.
This reissue does not merely close the loop on Tresor's reissue series of the Drexciya catalogue but brings Shifted Phases to
fresh ears more than other records. Accompanied by newly commissioned artwork from Matthew Angelo Harrison, the 3xLP
vinyl reissue also features the tracks Crossing Of The Sun-Ra Nebula and Alien Vessel Distress Call, which were previously only
on the original CD release.

The prolific Karolina Bnv returns to Wrong Era with 'Yet To Come', an industrial-infused, masterful exploration deeper into her ever unfolding sound. Karolina Bnv brings her sophisticated sounds and undeniable strengths to Wrong Era once again, broadening her horizons with skillful taste.

Marionette presents 'dessus oben alto up', the first collaborative recording by Andrea Belfi and Jules Reidy. Hailing from different ends of the globe (Australia and Italy) but both longtime residents of Berlin, Reidy and Belfi’s approaches have much in common, bringing together compositional precision and electroacoustic rigour with improvisation freedom, the immediate gratifications of rhythmic pulse, and an overtly lyrical sensibility. Working together during a residency at the sound studio of Berlin’s Callie’s, an arts institution housed in a 19th century machine factory, the pair (with Marco Anulli manning the desk) have conjured up four expansive pieces where the beautifully recorded percussive clarity of Belfi’s drums threads through a sparkling haze of guitars and electronics.

Opener ‘dessus’ begins with Reidy’s distinctive just-intoned guitar figures, shimmering over a delicate substratum of Befli’s brushwork and bass drum accents. As in all of Reidy’s recent work, the guitar is twisted out of cliché by the unfamiliar tuning and electronic processing. Hanging almost inaudibly in the background for much of the piece, a rush of synthetic tones surges into the foreground to end it. ‘oben’ is built from kinetic patterns of picked guitar arpeggios, locking into irregular grooves with Belfi’s drums, which move from elegant rolls and cymbal patter to driving closed hi-hats and explosive rock interjections. Around the traditional instruments and across the stereo field, electronic sounds swarm and swirl, fizzing and popping in a sun-drenched soundscape that at points suggests both vintage analogue synth destruction and glitching harmonies. ‘alto’ begins in similar territory but turned up a notch, eventually settling into a propulsive 6/8 groove of shifting drum accents, manically strummed 12 string acoustic, and burbling synth chords.

The B side is dedicated to the fifteen-minute ‘up’, where the strategies adopted on the other pieces are put in the service of a more relaxed, slowly unfolding epic. Anchored by a steady pulse throughout, the piece combines chiming guitars, dubbed-out bass lines and constantly adjusted percussive details into a complex flux of sound. Change is at once so subtle and so ever-present that, at any given moment, the listener can never be entirely sure quite how they got there.

When the quartet of Luke Martin, Gabriel Salomon, Klaus Janek and Andy Graydon gathered to record an afternoon of sessions in Andy's studio, it was both the result of years of cultivation and an afterthought. Klaus and Andy had been long-time, and now long-distance, collaborators since their shared years in Berlin. That city was also where Andy was introduced to Gabriel at one of his solo performances by their mutual friend, the painter Paul McDevitt. Years passed, and cities. After meeting and working together in Boston, Luke and Andy both found themselves transplanted to Minneapolis. And by happenstance Gabriel arrived a few years later. A new conversation was just starting to emerge when Klaus announced his arrival, stopping by on a North American tour. Suddenly the four got a chance to listen and play together performing on a bill at a local gallery, in one configuration or another, for the first time. Packing up after that show, Klaus leaned over to ask, "isn't there a moment we could meet again, to play?"

Nothing was expected, and so anything was possible. The circumstances lent their gathering an impromptu but grounded feeling, a unique mix of chance encounter and reunion. As befits an opening encounter, the focus was as often on listening to the unfolding sonic conversation as it was on making a recording. Everyone seemed to intuit the direction despite not knowing where they were headed. The four faced each other in a loose circle surrounded by speakers and microphones pointed haphazardly, as likely to catch the dog padding around curiously as the bowing of strings or rattling of a cymbal. The permissive spirit of the day was declared early, just before rolling, when Gabriel asked if we should close the studio windows or leave them open. "You know what my answer is," replied Luke. If it's in the nature of a recording to become fixed, to be bottled up, let us at least leave open the windows to hear what might be coming next.

Skylax Records Proudly Introduces the "Cold Summer Ep" by Peter Lc, an Electrifying Collection of Five Tracks That Showcase the Artist's Mastery in the European House Music Scene. Emerging From the Enchanting Landscapes of Apulia, Italy, Peter Lc's Sonic Expedition Begins With "Hasta La Playa." This Track, Reminiscent of Rhythmic Tides Against the Shore, Captures the Essence of Carefree Summer Days With Its Sun-Soaked Vibes and Lively Percussion, Setting the Stage for an Energetic Dance Floor Filled With Joy. as the Journey Continues, "Piano Ipnotico" Unfolds, Revealing a Hypnotic Dance Between Rhythmic Piano Chords and Pulsating Beats.

Peter Lc's Enchanting Melodies Create an Immersive Atmosphere, Guiding Listeners Through a Spellbinding Journey That Seamlessly Blends Classic Elements With a Modern, Entrancing Flair. "Time in Cologne" Marks a Temporal Shift, Resonating With Echoes of the City's Historic Charm. the Track Weaves Intricate Sonic Tapestries, Capturing the Unfolding Essence of Time in Each Beat.

Layers of Sound Interlace, Creating a Rich and Immersive Experience That Stands as a Sonic Exploration, Evoking Both Nostalgia and Forward Momentum Simultaneously. "Dive Into the Ethereal Realm of "Your Dreams," Where Dreamlike Melodies Intertwine With Pulsating Rhythms. This Nocturnal Odyssey Invites Listeners Into a World of Introspection and Reverie, Transcending Boundaries With a Seamless Blend of Atmospheric Elements and Rhythmic Patterns.

"Your Dreams" Becomes a Musical Voyage That Resonates Deeply With the subconscious.The Ep Concludes With "With Nobody," a Venture Into Darker Territories That Maintains an Undeniable Energy. Pronounced Beats Create a Driving Force That Propels the Listener Forward, With Mysterious Undertones and Intricate Arrangements Unfolding Like a Narrative. "With Nobody" Encapsulates a Perfect Balance Between Intensity and Allure, Leaving an Indelible Mark as the Grand Finale of the Ep.

Peter Lc's "Cold Summer Ep" Is a Testament to His Boundless Creativity and Mastery, Poised to Carve an Indelible Mark on the Global House Music Landscape. Each Track Is a Testament to His Unique Style—a Captivating Blend Reminiscent of Dj Sneak, Coupled With a Nod to the Golden Era of Italian Dream House From the Early '90s, but Elevated in Production Quality. Whether Basking in Sunny Vibes or Venturing Into Darker Territories, Every Composition Stands as a Bona Fide Banger....

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

From the first notes of Symbiont, the radical new collaborative album and document of Black and Indigenous futurism from Jake Blount and Mali Obomsawin, the listener is met with rising tidewaters, massive droughts, and the appearance of an iconoclastic uprising amidst the worlds indifference. Questions of future or present tense swirl around the music as the duo unspools the intertwined threads of racial and climate justice. Amid rumbling synthesizer drones, the thrum of banjo, and the thwack of drum machines, a whisper of truth can be heard: this crisis has been unfolding for centuries.

"A Singular Blend of Dynamic Post-Pop & Electronic Production Featuring The Vibraphonist’s Remarkable Quartet Special Guests Gerald Clayton and Marquis Hill Named One Of Downbeat's 25 For The Future

“His music is fresh, it speaks to everyone. Never heard anyone play vibes like that before.” -Herbie Hancock

“Best vibes player I’ve heard...” -Quincy Jones

In discussing Elements of Light, his fifth album as a leader, the vibraphonist-composer Simon Moullier often returns to a specific term: unfolding.

“This is an important word — the unfolding of a song,” says Moullier, who was born in France and lives in New York. “It’s something I’m very attached to, and something I’m always working on.” As he explains, many of his essential influences —Wayne Shorter, Milton Nascimento, Toninho Horta, Radiohead’s Thom Yorke, Ravel, — have been masterful unfolders in their writing. Moullier admires the movement and design in their music and harmony, the way one section of a tune leads into the next, everything flowing in a natural, beautiful, inviting way. Even the most serious intellectual musical concepts are rendered with a directness, a simplicity that can captivate a general audience. “For me, no matter how complex an idea can get,” he says, “clarity is always key.”

That’s a mature, evolved outlook for a millennial jazz musician to embrace, and it’s shared among Moullier’s youthful quartet featuring pianist Lex Korten, bassist Rick Rosato and drummer Jongkuk “JK” Kim. What’s more, these musicians of astonishing technical facility interact with the selflessness and good taste that Moullier’s song-focused music requires; to say it another way, they use their virtuosity to make the bandleader’s compositions sound as human and affecting as possible — never to preen."

WE ARE WINTER'S BLUE AND RADIANT CHILDREN (WAWBARC) is the new quartet of Mat Ball (BIG|BRAVE), Efrim Manuel Menuck (Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Thee Silver Mt. Zion), and Jonathan Downs and Patch (both Ada). On "NO MORE APOCALYPSE FATHER" they present six modal lullabies drenched in seared distortion, slathered across striding electronic pulses. Ball and Menuck began creating music in and for the bleakest moments of Montréal winters: "We're honoring that idea of winter, when you come inside and your house is warm, a place that only exists because of how cold it is outside," says Menuck. They later recruited Downs and Patch to flesh out their initial ideas. Menuck met them in 2015 when recording Ada's final album at Montréal's Hotel2Tango _ where they reconvened to make this record. "NO MORE APOCALYPSE FATHER" is an album about witnessing bleakness from a place of safety. Carrying newfound descriptive depth, thanks to the quartet's open-ended songs freeing him from writing in meter, Menuck likens his lyrics to photorealism. On opener `Rats and Roses' he sings of an unnamed city struck by an unknown cataclysm, but the details are local: specifically, his neighbors inadvertently poisoning birds when tackling a rat infestation. It's backed by blown out synths and guitars reaching a soaring crescendo. "Seeing things from a distance and not being able to intervene happens a lot on the record," Menuck explains. "If you're a feeling and thinking person, that's just part of the human condition. We watch horror unfolding from afar, unable to do anything concrete to change it." A powerless witness, able to describe but not intervene. `Dangling Blanket From A Balcony (White Phosphorous)' references Michael Jackson holding his child over a hotel balcony in 2002_the bizarre media spectacle still lodged in Menuck's psyche. This and the album's closing track also elegize white phosphorous, a technology of war designed to light up battlefields but capable of inflicting horrific burns on those it touches. Illumination and horror in one, here underpinning scenes picturesque and terrifying. "The last song `(Goodnight) White Phosphorous' is deliberately like a lullaby," says Menuck. "Written from the viewpoint of watching white phosphorous falling outside your window." Scorched and tarnished and laden with harrowing imagery, "NO MORE APOCALYPSE FATHER" is also a record bathed in light: the bewilderment of hopeful spirits witnessing despair, watching a blizzard of distress unfold outside from a place of relative shelter and comfort. You could call that emotional ambivalence, maybe numbness. But those words are too passive for the weight of conflicted feeling resonating through the album. "I never know how I feel on an overcast day when the sun is still bright despite the grayness and the light is very flat. The colours become more saturated, and you see a single flower, say a morning glory, whose colour is so vibrant beneath the gray, I don't know if that's a lovely sensation or a terrible sensation. It's both," says Menuck.

Lukas de Clerck brings us the ancient greek instrument, the aulos, of which his new interpretation of long form expression is coaxed forth on this tremendous recording. Lukas de Clerck explores a niche of archaeological research in music; the aulos is a historical Greek instrument that Lukas analyzed and reinterpreted by a luthier in modern times_navigating this impression as an artwork or living sculptural object, as there is an absence of historical partitions or written information about how to recreate technique on the instrument. Lukas de Clerck has interpreted information from the rare archaeological resources and visual art of the classical Greek period to recreate both playing technique and possible sound timbres with the instrument. With his contemporary approach to drone, post-minimalist music, and contemporary folk, we find a deeply satisfying and compelling, even playful set of songs, timbral exercises and compositions. An important document of new music meets contemporary archaemusicological research via Stephen O'Malley of SUNN O)))'s label Ideologic Organ. _ The telescopic aulos is speculative: might it have existed? It takes on features from the historical aulos, a double-reed instrument of which we know how it looked but little about what music was played on it or how it would have really sounded. It's an instrument without the limitations of canon or manual, providing creative freedom and awakening curiosity. The new instrument featured on this album is ancient and futuristic at once. The aulos has no tone holes; instead, each of the two tubes consists of three parts that can slide into each other. In this sense, the metal pipes bear a certain resemblance to the principle of a trombone. However, since both hands are already in use to hold both tubes, the sliding has to be done by way of gravity and the help of a «phorbeia», a leather mask which helps keep the reeds in place. The aulos's material is metal (instead of wood), which gives it a certain electronic allure and intensity, as well as a variety of sonic possibilities and textures. It produces overtones efficiently and allows them to play with their microtonality. The aulos Lukas plays on this recording was developed at Brasserie Atlas, a temporary occupation of a former brewery in the heart of Brussels where Lukas lives. It is quite a poetic coincidence that the birthplace of the instrument is named after the Greek titan condemned to carry the sky, while this instrument needs to be turned skywards to lower its pitch with the help of gravity. At Brasserie Atlas, Lukas has found collaborators who have shared in the process of building this new instrument: the collective Noir Métal has constructed the tubes, in this way becoming instrument builders; the phorbeia has been manufactured by Jot Fau; a former water reservoir in the vast cellar of the building carried the instruments' resonance for its first sounds. The place has left an imprint on this new instrument. With all of the telescopic aulos' layers, its sonic, musical and extra-musical components are still unfolding their potential as a medium for discovery and research, next to being an instrument of great musical potential. The music on The Telescopic Aulos of Atlas reflects this spirit. In several miniature pieces, it presents an encyclopaedia of musical possibilities that the instrument offers while keeping an intense and corporeal sonic specificity. The short pieces are studies that reflect on the sonic possibilities of this instrument that are yet to be explored. It meanders, searches and interacts with itself and the space. It needs to answer common expectations of old instruments being harmonious or pleasing. It transports a kind of experimental archaeology that, by formulating hypotheses in the present, allows us to reflect on what might have been in the past and simultaneously questions concepts of beauty, harmony or virtuosity. However, in the end, this instrument might have never existed before. -Julia Eckhardt

Copenhagen’s Echocord returns this September with the ‘Invincible Nature’ EP by Altone, backed by a remix from Thomas Fehlmann and Another Channel. Atone is the guise of Tokyo’s Yuki Takasaki, one of the leading figures of the genre out of Japan with releases on the likes of Greyscale, Lempuyang, Vuo, Æ Recordings, Primary colours and many more. His distinctive twist on Dub Techno has earned him accolades worldwide within the underground and here he joins the roster of the esteemed Echocord, the Kenneth Christiansen helmed label that’s been at the forefront of Dub Techno for more than two decades now. The original mix of ‘Naturally Unnatural’ opens, showcasing Altone’s unique style via subtly nuanced chord flutters, expansive reverberations, pulsating low end tones and ever unfolding, subtly unfurling feel. The ‘Naturally Flowing Thomas Fehlmann Remix’ follows, the Swiss sonic wizard and former member of the legendary The Orb among many other projects delivers deep, throbbing subs and glitched out synth modulations intertwined with fragments of the original composition. ‘Unnaturally Balanced’ then opens the B-Side with Altone diving deeper into dub realms courtesy of ever alternating, billowing dub echoes and a raw, reduced rhythm section. The ‘Another Channel Version’ of ‘Unnaturally Balanced’ then rounds out the EP, embracing a more classic dub techno aesthetic as crunchy drums, swirling atmospherics and spaced out echoes ebb and flow amongst one another across the six and half minute duration.

Alter is proud to present the debut full length release from devotional music outfit Unstern, a collaborative effort between deep ambient artist Arzat Skia and prodigal pianist Leo Svirsky. Co-mixed by Swedish electronic music luminary Civilistjävel! and Arzat Skia and mastered to tape by Stefan Betke, the album features lush electronics, two pianos refracting across the stereo field, processed recordings from the Peruvian Amazon, bowed percussion by Greg Stuart, alongside strings and renaissance meantone organ recorded at Orgelpark in Amsterdam.

The results are an abundant audio illusion where what seemingly repeats slowly over time morphs in a manner where the destination escapes the departure point with extreme discretion, a reverent nod to Morton Feldman's compositional method of "Crippled Symmetry."

Throughout Es Geht Der Tag there is a muted, refined melancholy imbued with a constantly fluctuating pulse which generates a sense of temporal disorientation, leaving the listener lost in a strange yet not at all unfamiliar sonic labyrinth. It is a journey whereby a glorious subtle tension exists between the grandiose and the restrained.

This is environmental music, not in the sense of capturing nature itself, more with regards to an unfolding of audio elements which move in a manner in tune with the multitude of flows in the world.

Unstern’s Es Geht Der Tag is a deep mental journey, rich in subtle transcendental tendencies and psychic liberation.

Biomes are little worlds of organic relationships, full of struggles, symbiosis, and sheer obsolete noise. In "De Silenti Natura," Henrique Vaz is meticulously crafting synthetic auditory biomes, sprouting from their own fuzzy logic. Unfolding across two distinct acts, the Brazilian artist interprets and replicates the complex, often ambiguous sounds of (un)natural environments, creating imaginary systems to inhabit over two sides of tape. The soundscape of the first side and title track is entirely algorithmically synthesized, with no samples used, leveraging Supercollider for real-time sound generation. The environment thus built is a flourishing one, seemingly unable to escape its own grandeur as insect-like buzzing and crackles expands into mountain ranges and forests of erupting sonorous drama. The second side introduces 'hydrophone' water synthesizers, submerged in a goldfish bowl to interface with the unfurling waves of electronic chords, creating a unique blend of damp and unwieldy sloshing movements, prismatically scattered into a luscious soundscape, and resembling everything from the bridge of a starship to the echoed drip-drip of stalactites.

Both sides of the album slowly unwrap and uncrinkle, revealing layers of hisses, distant digital choirs, warm enveloping chords, and juddering bleeps. Despite their unwieldy and strange nature, myriad elements convey a familiar sense of environment, flitting between the blossoming of new (manmade) life and the doom and destruction of the (real) world.

As the ringing of bells (fully synthetic; no samples were used) hove into view during the closing movement of side one, a simulacrum cacophony of voices is ushered in. It’s a reminder of the holy nature of sound itself, beamed into our heads intangibly. The flipside’s water ritual, frantically dunking ‘water synthesizers’ to birth swooping melodies and yawning tones, is jabbing at sleeping giants. It’s pushing and pulling the stars in the night sky into place. It’s both a simple act of beautiful creation, and a storm in a teacup.

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce a reissue of Chico Mello and Helinho Brandão’s self-titled release from 1984, the first return to vinyl of this classic of Brazilian experimental music with its original cover art and complete track listing. An under-recognised figure whose work inhabits a singular terrain where radical new music techniques and music theatre meet musica popular brasileira, Mello has lived and worked in Berlin since the late 1980s. A student of Dieter Schnebel, Mello played in the 90s iteration of Arnold Dreyblatt’s Orchestra of Excited Strings alongside compatriot Silvia Ocougne, with whom he produced a radical and hilarious deconstruction of MPB classics on Musica Brasileira De(s)composta (an early and rather atypical release on Edition Wandelweiser).

On this release, his only recording predating his move to Europe, Mello works with the alto saxophonist Helinho Brandão, who appears to be otherwise unknown outside Brazil. The record’s six tracks range from solo saxophone improvisation to densely layered ensemble works bridging minimalism, acoustic sound art and a plaintive melodic sensibility that calls up Edu Lobo or Milton Nascimento. Beginning with a dramatic, dissonant wind and string surge from which emerge ominously pounding piano chords, opener ‘Água’ slowly builds in intensity, a halo of clustered vocal harmonies gradually closing in on Brandão’s squealing sax until the piece opens up to reveal a gorgeous passage of melodic singing. The piano accompaniment reduces to tolling bass notes as the voice begins a repeated incantation, suggesting a ritualistic atmosphere reminiscent of parts of Xenakis’ setting of Oresteia. Dissonant, sawing tremolos on the strings climb to a crescendo before disappearing into the sounds of water being poured and splashed into metal vessels, presented not as a field recording but as a percussive element performed by the ensemble. A child’s voice then appears, singing to piano accompaniment the same melody heard earlier in the piece. After a brief solo alto improvisation from Brandão, working with the guttural pops and fleeting melodic gestures of Braxton or Roscoe Mitchell, the remainder of the first side is dedicated to the leisurely unfolding of ‘Baiando’ over the course of twelve minutes. A trio for Brandão on soprano saxophone, Mello on a very period-appropriate phased nylon string guitar and Edu Dequech on bongos, the performance eases its way hypnotically through subtle variations on a set of rhythmic and melodic patterns, almost derailed at points by Brandão’s wild forays into extended technique but held together by Mello’s droning guitar notes.

The second side opens with another multi-part epic for a larger ensemble, ‘Matraca’, which makes use of strings, electric guitars and a wide range of South American percussion instruments. Rasping violin harmonics hover as drum hits, repeated guitar notes and triangle accompany a slowly descending bass glissando. A sudden change in direction introduces a thrumming, incessantly repeated bowed bass tone, beginning a series of episodes of minimalist phasing and pattern variation, the combinations of electric guitars and orchestral instruments giving the ensemble an ad hoc charm like the early Penguin Café Orchestra but with more percussive drive. Eventually the piece is overrun by a cacophony of the titular matracas (a kind of ratchet/cog rattle). Following a lyrical trio improvisation by Mello, Brandão and Gerson Kornin on bass, the final ‘Danca’ focuses entirely on Mello’s layered acoustic guitars and vocals, using this restricted palette to build up a haunting piece of almost orchestral density, reminiscent of the 70s work of Egberto Gismonti in how it thickens a folkish ambience with harmonic sophistication.

Arriving in a starkly beautiful gatefold sleeve and sounding better than ever in its new remaster, one might call the stunning music contained on Chico Mello/Helinho Brandão ahead of its time. But what (other than some of Mello’s own work) produced in the years since its initial release has really touched the organic fusion of minimalism, free improvisation, radical instrumental technique and popular song achieved here? Forty years after its first release, Chico Mello/Helinho Brandão remains music of the future.

Garage Hermétique's sub-label dedicated to non-club excursions continues its exploration by welcoming Nummer to its collection of mixtapes.

Let yourself be captivated by the day unfolding under the morning sun, filtered dreamy synths, the memory of distant voices and eerie percussions; echoing in the garden, transporting the listener into a kaleidoscopic realm.

GNOD, the ever-transient psychedelic musical unit from northern England with over 15
years and dozens of releases under their belt, return in 2024 with a recalibrated sound and
a new sense of freedom. Spot Land’s five songs are tender and detailed, unfolding slowly
with wistful guitar textures, brushed drums and interjections of lap steel, piano and
kalimba. As founder member Paddy Shine says, the results sound like old GNOD and new
GNOD at the same time.
Though GNOD’s shift in sound from album to album is rarely planned too far ahead, there’s
been a quiet desire among the band to do something of this nature for a while. The results
might confound the expectations of some listeners, but in the longer view Spot Land is
liquid GNOD.

This latest installment of Mr. K Edits focuses on two midtempo cuts for the roller skaters and lowdown groovers, with a couple of deep album tracks that are appearing on 7-inch for the first time — both with unique Mr. K edits.

First up is “Felix Leo” from Californian keyboardist Rodney Franklin. A subtle instrumental that was overshadowed at the time by the monster hit “The Groove” (also known to UK’s jazz dancers as The Freeze), “Felix Leo” is that creeper that makes its way into your consciousness and won’t let go. As he so often does, Mr. K trims the track to its leanest, meanest measures, starting directly from the menacing, hypnotic chord progression that forms the root of the composition. Proceeding at a stately leonine pace befitting the title, the song spirals beautifully, as a lush string section encourages the listener to get lost in the unfolding sonic textures.

“In Love” is a very early Prince track, in fact it’s the very first cut in which we hear Prince play instruments on his debut album, released in 1978. And play instruments he does, every single one of them — drums, bass, guitar, and above all, those creamy ARP and Moog synth lines that power this tune. Bouncing along on a rhythm that blends a solid four-on-the-floor stepper’s groove with a hint of the staccato upbeats of reggae, this one’s an easy warmup for dancers and a perfect tempo for skaters. Mr. K’s edit gives us the extended mix the album never did, adding nearly two minutes to the LP timing without ever feeling strained or repetitive.

“I learned both of these songs for roller skaters in my early Roxy days,” Krivit says, referring to the legendary downtown NYC roller rink, “both had those grooves that stood the test of time.” We think this exclusive 7-inch will do the same!

As always, these are mastered and cut to vinyl with both home hi-fis and club systems in mind, and the sound is unmatched.

Hardway Bros teams up with Beth Cassidy on Rekids for a timeless ode to the legendary Murk Records The release includes a ‘coral way’ dub mix and a remix by Erol Alkan and Richard Norris’ Beyond The Wizards Sleeve.

Sean Johnston is the man behind Hardway Bros, an alias well known for wobbly, downtempo, and synth-laced disco jams which have appeared on the likes of Is it Balearic? Whiskey Pickle, and Throne of Blood over the last decade. On this single, which is a love letter to legendary early 90s label Murk Records, Johnston links with vocalist Beth Cassidy, known for her work as part of Manchester’s Sea Fever and Section 25.

Hardway Bros’ wonderful 'Murky' is deep and sensual house music. The vocal brings sultry charm, unfolding in soulful style over whimsical ambient pads and chunky drums. It oozes with character and harks back to actual songwriting of days gone by.

Beyond The Wizard's Sleeve is an alias of dance music pioneers Erol Alkan and Richard Norris. It was established to bring psyched-out, acid touches to the dance floor and has resulted in a critically acclaimed album on Alkan’s Phantasy Sound and much more. Their excellent Re-Animation is eight minutes of drawn-out disco chug, loose grooves and masterful chord work. Up last is a Coral Way dub that strips things back to the beats, layers in plenty of cosmic FX, and lets your imagination run wild on the tripped-out synth leads that pan between the stars.