Search:unfolding

Animistic Resonance marks a new stage for artist and electronic musician Leslie García, as it is her first album under her own name, following several releases as Microhm and her parallel work as founder of the contemporary art studio Interspecifics, where she has developed an extensive body of sonic projects presented in major museums and programs around the world. The album is the culmination of a profound and extended exploration of sound as language. It is also a statement against the classicism of long-form ambient pieces. Narratively, each track is conceived as a finely detailed work that functions as a condensed temporal fragment, each with its own individuality while simultaneously forming part of a broader universe.

The compositional language of the album draws on minimalist structures, deep listening strategies, and experimental approaches to electronic sound. Each track offers a meditation on repetition, density, and micro-variation, unfolding like a sonic landscape shaped by temporal tension and perceptual ambiguity. Animistic Resonance resists categorization, situating itself between ambient, noise, and abstract rhythm, while grounding its aesthetic in a Latin American sensibility that embraces technological poetics, affective depth, and critical imagination.

The album invites listeners to move beyond the surface and inhabit a world of vibrational and animistic temporalities. It offers a refuge in sound, a suspended space where calm can emerge. In the midst of contemporary turbulence, Animistic Resonance opens the door to imagining new ways of listening and feeling, demanding an embodied and visceral form of engagement.

Composition sound synthesis and programming by Leslie García. Composed between 2022—2024 in Mexico City.
Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studio, NY. Artwork by Daniel Castrejón.

Inner Zone returns to space•lab with an immersive EP exploring the meeting point of deep techno and progressive minimalism, shadowy rhythms and spatial resonance.

Folded Realm opens the release with a hypnotic pulse, drawing from the darker edges of the Inner Zone sound with precision and restraint. Goa’s Kohra steps in on remix duties, transforming the original into a tunnelling techno weapon — dense, focused, and primed for the floor.

Spiral Form is a slow-burn evolution, unfolding in layers of submerged textures and flickering synth work. Closing the EP, Fallout breaks formation with a menacing, breakbeat-driven excursion through scorched sonic terrain.

In the final month of 2024, Meitei arrived in Beppu, a city long steeped in vapor, myth, and mineral memory. Invited to create onsen ambient music commemorating Beppu’s 100th anniversary, he immersed himself in the city’s geothermal psychogeography, where sound rises from the ground and time clings to mist.

Known for his Lost Japan (Shitsu-nihon) works, which channel forgotten eras into flickering auditory relics, Meitei took residence in the warehouse of Yamada Bessou, a century-old inn perched by the bay. Over two weeks, he listened intently to steam, to stone, to the atmosphere itself. The resulting work, Sen’nyū, traces the inner spirit of onsen culture. Like water finding its path, the music emerged with quiet inevitability, shaped by Meitei’s synesthetic sensibility and deep attunement to place.

Equipped with a microphone, he wandered Beppu’s sacred sites: Takegawara Onsen, Bouzu Jigoku, Hebin-yu, and the private baths of Yamada Bessou. There, he captured the breath of the springs, bubbling mud, hissing vents, wind against bamboo, and the murmurs of daily visitors. These field recordings became the sonic bedrock of Sen’nyū, an act of deep listening that attempts to render even the rising mist and shifting heat into sound.

Unfolding as a single, continuous piece, Sen’nyū drifts like fog through sulfur and stone. It traverses the veiled madness of Bouzu Jigoku, the spectral resonance of Yamada Bessou’s inner bath, and the hushed voices of Takegawara Onsen. It is a gesture of quiet reverence, for water’s patience, the land’s memory, and the hands that have bathed here for generations.

Where Meitei’s earlier works conveyed his personal impression of a fading Japan, Sen’nyū is grounded in tactile presence, music not imagined but encountered. Here, his practice moves closer to the spirit of kankyō ongaku, environmental music born from place, shaped by it, and inseparable from it.

As part of the project, Meitei conceived a two-day public sound installation inside Takegawara Onsen, culminating in a live performance. Bathers soaked in mineral-rich waters while submerged in sound, an embodied ritual of place, body, and listening.

Sen’nyū marks Meitei’s first full-length work centered entirely on onsen and opens a new chapter of his Lost Japan project under the expanded title 失日本百景 (One Hundred Lost Views of Japan), a series exploring extant sites of longing still quietly breathing within contemporary life. The album will be accompanied by Meitei’s first photo book, a visual document of his time in Beppu. A new layer is added to the world he has, until now, built only through sound.

Sen’nyū continues Meitei’s devotion to Japan as subject, while opening new terrain: both ritual and remembrance, an immersion into the mineral soul of Beppu.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Demdike Stare & Cherrystones unveil a long-in-the-making darkside fantasy weaving atmospheric and loose-limbed cuts recorded at labs in London and Manchester, brilliantly shaking a bush of ghostly trig points ranging from the Mars rehearsal tapes to Minimal Man, Randy Greif’s cut-ups, Conrad Schnitzler’s industrial prototypes and ‘70s ECM sides – with vocal contributions from Ssabae’s mesmerising Laura Lippie.

In dazed pursuit of styles heard on Cherrystones’ DDS tape ‘Peregrinations in SHQ (Super High Quality)’, the renowned London digger properly hexes sonic leylines with his label bosses on 10 wickedly grubby and hazed sound experiments. They tumble down the rabbit hole like some sixth sense-guided call-and-response, resulting in an exquisite unfolding of psychoacoustic spaces familiar to their mutually spirited sounds.

Honestly it's some of the dirtiest and most esoteric gear we've heard from Demdike; you can sense a lifetime of incessant digging drip through every loop and crack; grotty no-wave, industrial noise, DIY psych, proto-techno and gnarled concrète, further bolstered by Cherrystones’ perpendicular, equally insatiable and fathoms-deep areas of interest. With a focus on scrappy, feral cuts and hastily recorded edits, the trio roughly re-draw wordless chants and hyper-compressed knocks over a vortex of found sounds that curdle in rhythmic heat. Never staying sill for long, the trio get drowned by watery ambience, then shredded loops, Technoid shrapnel and electric bass prangs dancing into the aether.

The crankiest spirit perfuses the whole thing, evoking states of unravel and psychic distress as they pit a near-peerless collective knowledge into the void. Laura Lippie acts as human ligature to sanity, a fleeting constant found smudged into the hip hop chops of ‘Familiar Unfamiliarity’, spectral incantations of ‘Prophet in View’, or a channelling of Ozzy in ‘Thee Oath’, among more deranged tongues on ‘Observing the Crux’.

It’s the missing link between ECM, Earth and Dilloway we didn’t know we needed - up there with some of the most satisfyingly deep and frazzled gear this century.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The latest EP from Drab Majesty marks the start of a stirring new chapter in the band's majestic legacy. Written during a 2021 retreat to the remote coastal Oregon town of Yachats, Deb Demure leaned into the neo-psychedelic resonance of a uniquely bowl-shaped 12-string Ovation acoustic/electric guitar. After early morning hikes in the rain, Deb would record ambient guitar experiments the rest of the day, tapping into "flow states," letting the sound lead the way. These sessions were then refined or recreated, and later elevated further with key collaborations by Rachel Goswell (Slowdive), Justin Meldal-Johnson (Beck, M83, Air), and Ben Greenberg (Uniform, Circular Ruin Studio). An Object In Motion is true to its title, capturing the chrysalis moment of an artist evolving, reborn and untethered, silhouetted against an open horizon."Cape Perpetua" kicks off the collection's divergent palette: sparkling acoustic finger-picking refracted through delay, equal parts raga and reverie. Melodies and moods congeal and dissipate, at the threshold of rustic American primitivism, brooding neo-folk, and pastoral melancholia. "The Skin And The Glove" deploys jangle to different effect - baggy, soaring, grey-skied kaleidoscopic pop in the spirit of Stone Roses, Primal Scream, and The Glove. Rachel Goswell lends her iconic freefall voice to The Cure-esque ballad, "Vanity," infusing poetic gravity to the doomed refrain: "If the valve breaks / then the earth quakes / and history finds a way / to put you in your place.""Yield To Force", the closing track of the EP, may be the most anomalous offering of the set. A 15-minute instrumental odyssey of cyclical strings, ominous slide guitar, and simmering synthesizer, the piece sways and spirals like a long zoom into distant storm clouds. Demure finesses the guitar with a restless but regal grandeur, unfolding a panorama of peaks, shadows, and plateaus. It's music both intuitive and prophetic, tracing the slow swing of pendulums across an endless plain. Taken as a whole, An Object In Motion presents a showcase of potential futures from Drab's evolving domain, their sound poised to bloom at the precipice of transformation.

Juan Ramos is up to bat for the next Körperspannung release with the four-track stunner EP ‘Hard Bois’. Deeply connected to the ongoing pursuit of gay excellence and endeavors, Juan honors those who have come before us and touches us deeply in our soft spots at all the right moments. Across ‘Hard Bois EP’, the Berlin resident and behind the scenes operator (IYKYK) shows precisely why he’s one of dance music’s most exciting and dependable prospects. Opening the release, ‘Hard Bois’ combines snaking drums in a melange of samples with bff Kris Baha vocalizing sizzling and snaking lyrics winding around this propulsive club cut that could easily be a snapshot right out of a scene from Chicago’s iconic Medusa Club. ‘Saviour Sound’ is music that makes iron pipes sweat with hedonistic abandon. Exposed steel vibrates to a hardcore beat. Gears interlock to move the whole building into autonomous productivity. Conduits of electricity pulsate to the drama unfolding in a dim lit factory with dank corridors leading us on a path to a flowerbed growing and thriving in a subterranean hydroponic garden.
On the flip, the alarm strikes and it’s (shout it out): ‘Werk Day’! This is your call to get buttoned up and ready to make dreams reality. Head to the gym, pump those guns and then house your body. Technological funk winding through a sturdy and rock hard kick that helps you ride through the chasms of pleasure and pain. Rounding out the release is your ‘Acid BB’ rocking and roaring through the airspace of atomized acid matter, a perfect closer to a thoroughly exciting direction Juan Ramos takes with his newfound sound. Play it loud. Play it proud. Juan is one of our own and we do all we can to take care of each other.

Cinthie makes a welcome return to her own 803 Crystal Grooves imprint this June for its sixth release, the project comprises four original"s showcasing Cinthie"s many different sonic styles and influences.
The past decade has seen Berlin"s Cinthie moving from strength to strength, racking up milestone achievements like her DJ Kicks mix compilation and a steady stream of critically acclaimed material via the likes of Aus, Heist, Shall Not Fade and of course her own 803 Crystal Grooves label where she returns here with some fresh machine jams.
"Grooves" kicks off the package, a dynamic dance floor cut fuelled by processed vocals uttering the track title, murky bass stabs, heavily swung drums and gritty saturated stabs all dynamically evolving and unfolding throughout. "Boxer" follows next and showcases Cinthie"s love for dub-tinged sounds, laying down spiralling dub echoes, a snaking bass groove and hypnotic chord sequences atop a robust, swinging rhythm section.
"Hands Up" then kicks off the B-Side, shifting gears to a classic House aesthetic with dreamy keys, bright stab sequences, glistening synth textures and smooth strings, intertwined with soulful vocals and classic 909 workout. "She Wants It" then concludes the EP on a more cinematic tip with sweeping lead synths, fluttering arpeggios, elongated bass drones and vocal lines running with raw, crunchy drums.

Having crested the west coast modular-ambient wave in just a few releases - including 2018's Sharing Waves on the influential LA experimental imprint Leaving Records - Sean Hellfritsch has swapped the mossy analog synth improvisations of his prior output for refined melodic arrangements dressed in sprightly dawn-of-digital textures. Big Earth Energy plumbs the depths of Hellfritsch's multimedia mind and naturalist heart, spinning an impressionistic narrative world off of cultural touchstones like the PC game MYST, and the work of Studio Ghibli composer Joe Hisaishi. Inspired by the aforementioned, and guided by Hellfritsch's experience as an animator and filmmaker, Big Earth Energy is the soundtrack to a hypothetical video game with a pointedly ecological premise, and a twist of psychedelic charm. In Hellfritsch's imagined virtual journey, the player assumes the perspective of a treefrog sixty-five-million years ago, hopping epochs with each new level, forming a comprehensive picture of the massive changes the planet has gone through over the eons. The ultimate goal of the game is not to amass resources, defeat enemies, or gain power, but to fully witness the unfolding of one of the biggest systems of energy imaginable - or as the album's creator puts it - "to explore the incomprehensibly vast energetic expression and mystery that is Earth." Big Earth Energy is steeped in exploratory RPG intrigue, possibility, and contemplation, lovingly overlaid with Miyazaki-an sentiments and aesthetics. The through-composed, organic, meandering synthesis heard on previous Cool Maritime albums has been fully replaced by meticulous polygonal arrangements that recall the computerized sheen of late 80s work by composers like Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Yoichiro Yoshikawa - using true-to-period gear no less. Even given its referentiality, Big Earth Energy comes off as forward-facing where so much reminiscent music remains fixed to a bygone moment in pop culture. Hellfritsch has created a musical world where the endless verdancy of the biosphere finds its parallel in the golden age of early 1990s video games, and late 80s Japanese environmental music, all while pointing to a hopeful planetary and artistic future that vindicates the motives of all of these muses.

The German band Schatterau returns to Hands in the Dark with their latest release, »Übers Jahr« (»Throughout the Year«), which follows their acclaimed debut album from last year.

This sophomore effort, as its title implies, delves into the cyclical nature of time and the duality of the transient and the eternal unfolding of events. The album comprises 17 vignettes that reflect on the seasons, capturing their unique light and sounds, the passage of time, and the interplay of movement and stillness, as well as the perpetual transformation that leads to new beginnings.

Continuing the approach of their inaugural album, the compositions are constructed around endless cassette loops, allowing the band to explore intricate textures and weave them into a surreal, dreamlike tapestry. In this release, the warmth and melancholy of the compositions have developed into a more intricate existence, showcasing a wider array of textures and sounds, while the songwriting exhibits greater maturity, inviting listeners into a more immersive and cohesive experience.

»Übers Jahr« transcends being a simple collection of auditory moods; it serves as an intimate portrayal of the seasons that cyclically unfold, embodying a mystery that surpasses both memory and time.

Petre Inspirescu returns with a four-part suite of mesmeric, long-form compositions. Spanning two 12" records, each track occupies a full side - unfolding with the patience and precision of serialist structures. Drawing from minimalism and contemporary classical traditions, this is introspective electronica in its most refined form - hypnotic, elegant, and quietly expansive.

The road is a wrinkled timeline. Uncanny flatness conceals unfolding textures, transparent layers and open tabs. The truck cuts the landscape, tracing the road with a line of mad logic that composites time, space, thought. On “Le Camion de Marguerite Duras,” French duo Jean-Marie Mercimek have returned with a road movie for the blind. Composed and recorded by Marion Molle and Ronan Riou over six years across France and Belgium, this unlikely distillation of microtonal MIDI composition, French B.O., and post-punk chansons brazenly expands the duos’ penchant for lowkey narrative spectacle.

Across “Le Camion,” sounds form a theatrical screen. Our ears are the curtains drawn wide and listening with a look that pans across the shot. No title cards, they cut straight to action. The truck is a camera, zooming and framing the tracks as scenes. Songwriting and sound design blur in a tangle of delicate economy. The balance of mutant music-boxes and dewy miniatures recalls otherworldly hits from Gareth Williams’ Flaming Tunes, Residents, and catchier corners of the Lovely Music catalog. Strange, sure, but this flick is never quite a cartoon. Molle and Riou’s vocals dilate into a cast of very human characters. Voices sing borrowed texts like untrained actors (playing themselves, in fact) stepping into the frame once before disappearing forever. And when they’re gone, you miss them. But here in the truck, it all comes back again under the cyclic spell of repose in perpetual motion. Turn up the radio and appuyez sur le champignon. - Turner Williams Jr.

The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace was commissioned by the Royal Armouries to mark the transition from one millennium to another. It reflects on the passing of ‘the most war-torn and destructive century in human history’ and looks forward in hope to a more peaceful future. The Armed Man is dedicated to the victims of the Kosovo conflict, whose tragedy was unfolding as it was being composed. It was first performed in 2000 by the London Philharmonic Orchestra and the National Youth Choir of Great Britain, conducted by Jenkins himself. The 25th anniversary edition includes a cover redesign; a history of the commission by Guy Wilson, Master of the Armouries; updated biographies for contributors; and new notes from Julian Lloyd Webber reflecting on the debut performance, plus a note from Sir Karl himself.

»Mother Nature« is the debut solo album by Berend Intelmann, a key figure in the German indie music scene since the late 1980s. Having made his name as a member of groups such as Hallelujah Ding Dong Happy Happy, Guther, and Paula, Intelmann most recently focussed on his work as a producer for artists such as Jens Friebe, MissinCat, or Fotos. »Mother Nature« sees the multi-instrumentalist and singer navigate between pop sentiment and his penchant for classical music on these eight pieces, three of which feature additional contributions by Karaoke Kalk label mate Marla Hansen, synth pop iconoclast Der Assistent, and the versatile Mieke Miami, respectively. »Mother Nature« combines a sense of playfulness with cunning compositional rigour to stunning effect.

Intelmann took full creative licence and worked with the instruments that he feels most comfortable using: the drums, synthesizers, and his voice. While inspired by his life-long passion for pop music in all shades, he also took some cues from his more recent passion for classical music. »The synthesizer melodies are arranged like string quartets, while the songs are presented as musical themes strung together so that they form a coherent story,« he explains. The resulting sound isn’t quite as »krauty« as someone called it, instead the artist prefers to call it »slow-kraut—1980s synth sound with 1970s George Duke-style beats,« though of course he never attempted to fit in one specific genre or replicate a certain sound: This is simply the essence of Berend Intelmann as a composer and storyteller.

The lyrical matter of »Mother Nature« is inspired by life and death. This informs an album that masterfully creates contrasts and utilises the friction generated between them to tell its stories. The album opener and second single »All Gone« greets its audience with the couplet »In the long run / We’re all gone,« but sets this to soothing sounds that form a joyful counterpoint to the fatalism of the words. Also the slowly-unfolding first single »Life Of Another One« sets the stage for a reflection on memories that have become so distant that they feel like belonging to another person altogether with sombre, intertwined melodies. However, these darker tones slowly give way to laid-back grooves, Intelmann’s smooth vocalisations and whirling synthesizer sequences.

The collaborations—a vocal duet with Marla Hansen on »A Focused Mind,« Der Assistent’s subtle theremin contributions to »The Less We Cared« and Mieke Miami flute and saxophone playing on »Mother Nature«—further enrich this album that the artist claims has been »co-produced by friends and family.« Indeed, »Mother Nature« might be Intelmann’s solo debut proper, but he remains a teamplayer at heart.

Love is a first kiss, a late night call, an ache of longing that can break your heart or a long drive with the top down to anywhere but here. Love can equally be contained, repressed and longed for as much as it can save, nurture and embolden. Love is a measure of our humanity or how lost we have become. In her new album, How Love Bends, Reb Fountain muses on the transformative power of love. Imprinted with our fear, desire, hurt and hope as much as it is an expression of our suffering and joy, love is an ever-evolving shapeshifter that lives in our marrow; magnetic and emergent it is loosed by its archer to ride on the wind. Reb's medium is that of a surrealist, playing with the stories that we tell ourselves she harnesses the sage wisdom of the dream; we embark upon a limitless exploration of love, life and loss within a landscape entirely of Reb's making. Reb's love is the stuff of chaos and oceans, vulnerability and revolution; stirring up the depths of the human condition and dancing with the richness of who we really are. Unapologetic, vulnerable, heartbroken and commanding; this is How Love Bends. How Love Bends is at once haunting and alluring, mystical and triumphant. Reb is a seeker, actively reaching for the expanse. A reverent explorer she traverses the turbulent and tidal with heartbreaking vulnerability and blazon courage. The result is an emergent odyssey; a dynamic dreamscape unfolding and revealing itself mid-evolution. Reb has explored new approaches to songwriting revealing nuanced layers with endless depths.

Love is a first kiss, a late night call, an ache of longing that can break your heart or a long drive with the top down to anywhere but here. Love can equally be contained, repressed and longed for as much as it can save, nurture and embolden. Love is a measure of our humanity or how lost we have become. In her new album, How Love Bends, Reb Fountain muses on the transformative power of love. Imprinted with our fear, desire, hurt and hope as much as it is an expression of our suffering and joy, love is an ever-evolving shapeshifter that lives in our marrow; magnetic and emergent it is loosed by its archer to ride on the wind. Reb's medium is that of a surrealist, playing with the stories that we tell ourselves she harnesses the sage wisdom of the dream; we embark upon a limitless exploration of love, life and loss within a landscape entirely of Reb's making. Reb's love is the stuff of chaos and oceans, vulnerability and revolution; stirring up the depths of the human condition and dancing with the richness of who we really are. Unapologetic, vulnerable, heartbroken and commanding; this is How Love Bends. How Love Bends is at once haunting and alluring, mystical and triumphant. Reb is a seeker, actively reaching for the expanse. A reverent explorer she traverses the turbulent and tidal with heartbreaking vulnerability and blazon courage. The result is an emergent odyssey; a dynamic dreamscape unfolding and revealing itself mid-evolution. Reb has explored new approaches to songwriting revealing nuanced layers with endless depths.

Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 is the first ever archival release from Repetition Repetition, the “two-man electric minimalist band” consisting of Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton hailing from Los Angeles in the mid 1980’s. Repetition Repetition’s unique blend of cosmic art-rock minimalism / maximalism was self-released across a series of cassettes produced in micro editions, and while garnering the attention and participation of luminaries such as Harold Budd, remained under the radar during the band’s existence. Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 collects select material from across the duo’s catalog.

It was over a plate of Mexican breakfast food when Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton first told Harold Budd of Repetition Repetition and the worlds they intended to explore by respective way of synthesizers and guitars --- a rendezvous instigated by the former’s fan mail to the legendary composer. If the upstarts entered this restaurant from a one-way street of admiration, they would leave with not only Budd’s interest but, sometime later, a blessing in the wake of many hours shared by the three in Garcia’s Los Angeles home recording studio: “This is going to be difficult, but God help them, I think they’re great,” noted Budd in a USC lecture in 1985. Now several degrees removed from prior rock music aspirations, the real game was afoot.

Between 1984 and 1988, Repetition Repetition operated within something akin to the underground of the experimental underground, although even that designation perhaps overstates the case. The duo’s sparse output consisted of three cassettes self-released on Garcia’s Third Stone Music label: Repetition Repetition (1985), Lakeland (1987), and The Machinist (1987). Their songs would also be included during this period on Trance Port Tapes’ vital scene-scanning compilations assembled by A Produce. Live performances occurred with similar infrequency, but Garcia and Caton counted converts in quality over quantity, numbering among them the aforementioned Budd, a Chambers Brother, and, judging by a memorably drop-jawed reaction following a rare Repetition Repetition gig, Jackson Browne.

Likewise, critical support materialized in the form of KCRW deejays Brent Wilcox and Dean Suzuki, whose steady airplay positioned Repetition Repetition’s music amidst fearless company like Jon Hassell, Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Richard Horowitz. Yet, to hear fellow Trance Port featured players like Tom Recchion and Bruce Licher of Savage Republic tell it, Garcia and Caton moved as ghosts --- a notion more vexingly endorsed by the silence of record companies that failed to come knocking --- and therein lies an overarching truth to the work itself.

Journey to the heart of Repetition Repetition and one discovers a collective ear impossibly attuned to the hypnotic possibilities of stylistic convergence, the resulting music possessed of seamless multimodalities which beckon to a glimmering plane of the disembodied. Where Caton sought his artistic fixes at an intersection of popular genres, Garcia zoned in on the sonically spare, drawing from the same wellspring as the Enos and Rileys of his personal avant-garde pantheon, and in their coming together the two tapped into a deeper cosmic source. Synthetic walls of keyboard sound in forever states of reprise met waves of shimmering --- and at times even punishing --- guitar in reply, their soundscapes hovering convincingly between, as suggested in fittingly dualistic fashion in a press kit assembled by Garcia, such disparate sensations as bird flight in one song and oil drilling in the next.

But don’t call it a push-pull dynamic, as this was a creative partnership founded upon fluidity and organicism by way of, naturally, repetition. In contrast to, say, the Bressonian ideal of repetitive motion as a great stripping away, the concept in the hands of Garcia and Caton equated to ascendancy via continuous unfolding, a maximal route to minimalism. To be sure, their recording philosophy morphed over the course of the act’s short history, and what started as a process defined by consistent in-person interplay developed into a more isolated method formulated by Garcia, who eventually took to his own one-man bedroom-studio sessions in order to fully chart any and all potential ostinato-loaded paths which he could travel down, the Tascam-captured resonances subsequently provided to Caton as blueprints from which to take flight himself, adding layer upon layer of steel to the proceedings.

If the practice and execution changed, however, the evidence certainly didn’t rest in the results: The seamlessness remained, and, despite the brevity of their time together, so has Repetition Repetition. With this finely calibrated collection of songs in Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987, Freedom To Spend sees to it that the private worlds of Garcia and Caton can now be visited by all rather than just the count-‘em-on-both-hands lucky few whose musical endeavors or collector vocations carried them into this once-distant dimension.

Repetition Repetition’s Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 will be released on Freedom To Spend in vinyl and digital editions on May 30, 2025. The collection includes extensive liner notes from Bill Perrine, and wil be offered alongside Over & Over, a supplemental collection of music available exclusively as a mail order cassette from Freedom To Spend and RVNG Intl.