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Compiled onto one vinyl album for the first time, Landlocked (Numbers, 2026) presents Hallucinator’s 1999 debut album originally released under Mark Ernestus and Moritz von Oswald’s label Chain Reaction. Writing much surrounding the culture of what would be later considered ‘Dub Techno’ and its’ primary distribution center, Hard Wax, leads one down roads of shifting primary sources and decades old overheard smoke break recollections. Maybe brevity primes the listener to the paralinguistic to approach the sound on its terms; focusing on how things are uttered and not what.

This theory will remain unconfirmed. Hallucinator original press release left us with three or so gestures to consider over the years since:

“A new act on CHAIN REACTION”s distinct productional thesis. HALLUCINATOR are 3 people from he UK/London and this their first release ever- that’s all what the artists want to let us know…. This record is dedidacted to the memory of Stephen Lawrence!”

The first gesture is one of personnel. Since ’99, we’ve gotten to learn a bit more about the artists behind the Hallucinator project. All London-based, all writers, composers, and sound-designers— Anna Piva, Edward George, Trevor Mathison. These three seem to flow between parameters as aesthetic tactic and tacit structure to the work itself. For example, other collaborative shapes have come from this lineup including Flow Motion (Piva, George and Mathison) as well as the now defunct Black Audio Film Collective of which George and Mathison are founding members.

The second gesture is in the second line of the previous press release, “distinct productional thesis.” Much of Landlocked’s affect and sequencing seems to suggest an emotional study of entropy at the level of sediment. Rhythms play with space and capacity through polyvalence. The production chose subtractive vertigo, often switching and bringing back in elements that vanished from the track 6 minutes ago. Dubbing out so much of a track, one begins to associate sound akin to memories held in the experience of running your hand across a concrete block as a child. Felt (re)memberance in lieu of narrative tale. Using textures that flicker between colour and percussion, Hallucinator’s 12-tracker of loudspeaker perception music might be a mediation on the psychic wake of the Cold War. Intermittent strata of ambience and groove convects an active margin rifting event underneath a scorched geology of power in Western Europe. Again, this is all grapevine hearsay.

But it’s silence that voices the third gesture. The album’s sparse application of the written word touches on the ennui paradox of being landlocked on an island. Stuck. Trapped in the psychosis of occidental hypercentricism. A looping silence of Black British tragedy: “to the memory of Stephen Lawrence”. 18 year-old Lawrence was stabbed to death at a bus stop in southeast London by six white men in 1993. The rift of grief and implicit reiteration of modern subordination left by this hate act went legally silent for almost two decades until Lawrence’s killers were ultimately sentenced to virtually life in jail in 2012. Only six years removed at the time of Hallucinator’s initial invocation of rememory, the mind-numbing accretion of what Black Studies Professor Denise Ferreira da Silva might call “unpayable debt”, finds demonic ground across Landlocked, forming an aural sense of what continues to be refused.

The album ventures through spaces of overactive non-happenings: ‘Red Angel’’s factory floor dub flashes between smokestack and jungle visions, or the halfway mark’s stilted breath of ‘Dusk’ lending its mood to the sort of sedated dreams built from daily life under colony rule for instance. That linked rhythm links us back to our linked fates across Black and Brown folk is real, thus the syncopated signals through this work behave on the level of transnational radiotelegraphy, sounding out its windswept tension of a body negotiating a meat-grinder schema of linear production and wage for others to know that unspeakable thing can be broadcast in every drum tongue.

As the silence continues to reverb, we return to the sort of meaning-making that cannot be told but felt. Soothing to some, disturbing to others. Landlocked, a Rorschach test for a crumbled empire.

LUCIANO LAMANNA — A CARLO Blackwater Label — 2026 Distributed by Triple Vision More than ten years in the making, A CARLO is a single-sided EP by Luciano Lamanna for Blackwater Label, dedicated to Carlo Giuliani and to the memory of the events that unfolded during the G8 protests in Genoa in 2001. This record is the result of a long process, one that began more than a decade ago and has remained unfinished until now. Two tracks, both carrying the name and memory of Carlo, finally complete a circle that has been open for years. The first track, “Il Giorno del Sole”, was previously released on physical CD through Blackwater Label. The second, “Amore Infinito”, arrives more than ten years later, completing the dialogue between the two pieces and giving the project its long-awaited counterpart. Together, the tracks form a deeply emotional and personal statement: melancholic, haunting and at the same time driving and hopeful. Lamanna moves through the industrial language that has always characterised his work, while “Amore Infinito” explores a darker, more intimate territory, evoking the emotional intensity of Coil. A CARLO is not intended as a historical reconstruction or a conventional political statement. It is an act of memory.

For Blackwater Label, memory is political. For more than twelve years, Blackwater has built its identity around what we call Socialismo Sonoro: a way of understanding music and cultural production as a space for autonomy, resistance, collective consciousness and taking a position. We have never been interested in remaining neutral when the reality surrounding us contradicts the values we believe in. This record belongs entirely to that vision. Putting this record out today means continuing to pronounce the name Carlo. Keeping a memory alive. Refusing to allow silence to become the final form of history. Blackwater continues to expose itself, in its own way, through music, without claiming to speak for anyone else, but accepting the responsibility to say what it believes needs to be said. A CARLO is therefore both a tribute and a continuation: a record born from grief, transformed through sound, and ultimately directed towards memory and hope. CREDITS: Written, produced, mixed & mastered by Luciano Lamanna Released by Blackwater Label © 2026 Blackwater Label Distributed by Triple Vision N·C·V·A·F Nvmqvam Cede // Vsqve Ad Finem

2026 Repress

Inhale. Exhale. Remember to breathe. In that rhythm lies the pulse of being - the ancient echo of stars from which we are made. Breathing is the bridge between the inner cosmos and the outer void. When you breathe, you testify to existence itself: "I am." The Moonrover - a child of reason - abandoned on the cold, dead Moon. It does not feel time, know fear, or comprehend solitude. But a human, in its place, would understand: Silence is not emptiness. It is a mirror. And in that mirror arises the question: "If I am alone, and silence is infinite - who hears my breath?" The answer lies in the breath. Each inhale is resistance against entropy. Each exhale is an act of remembrance. To breathe is to remember that you are not just part of the Universe - you are its awakened part. And just as the Moonrover crawls across grey lunar plains, driven by an unknown purpose, so do you move through life, led by an inner light, until you realize: breath is not just life. It is a prayer sent into silence. And if you can hear it - you are alive.

Forty years of cassette releases, pressed for the first time on vinyl

First of two instalments exploring the previously unreleased sonic archives of one of Poland’s most enigmatic
living artists - with its first volume focused on his deep listening practice and spiritual reverie (recorded 1990–2013)

The last time Andrzej Dudek-Dürer took a banknote bearing the face of the Polish anarchist Jarosław Dąbrowski from his pocket to trade it for a pair of shoes was in 1969. He bought them for 120zł - the equivalent of 100€ today - and never replaced them since then. Only rebuilt them, year after year, drawing a needle and thread through the leather each time it split, closing one wound before the next one opened. It became a ritual of precision, stitching a record of another year into their soles.

That same year, in Wrocław, he arrived at a conclusion that would recalibrate everything that followed. Convinced he was the reincarnation of Albrecht Dürer, he adopted the surname Dudek-Dürer, stopped cutting his hair and began wearing the same garments every day. It was the first ritual of many, though he wouldn't have called it that yet. Look closely enough, over the decades, and it is always the same gesture, returning in different material: hair growing in a single unbroken strand, a needle drawing thread through leather, sitar strings pulled taut across a neck he built with his own hands and magnetic tape spooling forward inside the cassette boxes stacked against his walls.

None of this began in a vacuum. Dudek-Dürer emerged from the Wrocław neo-avant-garde, in a Polish art world where an exhibition could be cancelled overnight by the stroke of a censor's pen. In 1973, his exhibition Auto-crucifixion was shut down by the state, and for a time he found himself blocked from exhibiting his own art at all - the one force in his life that ever came close to cutting the thread.

He seemed to experience it differently. In 1974, after long, patient research into sitar craftsmanship, he built his first prototype with his brother, a knowledgeable luthier. In 1978, in a smoked-out jazz club, he took his first steps into sound recording with the unreleased album Jazz From Underground with his first band. By 1979, recognition started to travel further than he could.

Turning toward Far-Eastern philosophy, meditation and the idea of reincarnation was another language of freedom for him. It was a way of claiming an inner territory the state could not reach, a border it could not close. Mail Art served a parallel function, reaching further out: in a country that restricted travel and expression, sending and receiving art through the postal system became an act of quiet rebellion.

The body, in his understanding, is only an envelope readied for constant transformation. From this came Metaphysical Telepathy: during the years he could not leave Poland, he treated that confinement as a rehearsal room, sending his mind out ahead on the same thread his body would later follow. Living Sculpture grew from the same root with performances of stillness beside static art objects, until the boundary between the object and the man beside it simply dissolved. Camera Meditation extended the same instinct into photography: a shutter click flattening three dimensions into two so that a single instant could be held forever. Inspired by the pioneers of self-portrait photography like Robert Cornelius, he used it to document time itself, and kept explaining to me: "You know. This is not about vanity. This is about observing time passing.”

The isolation did not end suddenly. It ended the way his own philosophy had already predicted it would, from the inside first. Mail Art quietly solved the problem politics couldn't. Correspondence built during years of confinement slowly worked its way through doors the state itself had kept locked. Contacts made through folded paper and stamps became invitations. Ultimately, invitations became passports.

In 1983 he made his first trip outside Poland, to Germany, in search of the audio technology he couldn’t get his hands on before. In 1985, he was invited by the Indian embassy in Poland to give a sitar concert on an instrument he had spent a decade patiently stringing together - half sitar, half tanpura, built from patience and determination. After the collapse of the People's Republic of Poland, the travels kept unspooling: South Korea, then Mexico, then Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Singapore, Japan and the United States - each stop leaving behind its own small knot of tape, tied off and carried home.

In the decades since, recognition arrived at the same unhurried pace: he conducted workshops at UC Berkeley, served as vice-president for artistic affairs of the Union of Polish Art Photographers and the Union of Polish Visual Artists between 2010 and 2014 and received the Bronze Medal for Merit to Culture - Gloria Artis. His visual work gradually entered collections including the National Museums of Warsaw, the Stedelijk Museum, Tate Modern, MoMA and the Venice Biennale. His musical practice, by contrast, never found that kind of room - left to circulate quietly, sharing his cassette tapes directly, waiting for someone willing to follow it further.

It took months before I could find a way to reach Andrzej Dudek-Dürer - his presence online is very close to nonexistent. Surprisingly, LinkedIn turned out to be the only door still open, a faintly absurd irony given everything else about him. I packed the strict minimum for a three-day trip and an empty notebook and made my way to Wrocław. His headquarters sits in the neighbourhood of Grabyszyn: a two-storey pre-war house that has belonged to his family for generations. The man who opened the door was long-haired, long-bearded, in his trademark leather shoes and patched jeans. We sat in his living room, in front of a computer where decades of recordings sat organised in cryptically named files, surrounded by books and objects that had arrived one layer at a time, leaving room for only two chairs in the middle. His shoes sat by the door, rebuilt so many times they had become their own quiet sculpture. Cassette tapes filled boxes against the walls, almost unlabelled, each one a spool of thread holding decades of sound that had never once been asked for, until now.

I listened for hours: meditating in front of strangers on the porch of a Seoul temple until the tourists stopped taking photos and simply waited with him; a stand-off with border guards at the US–Mexico crossing over an instrument they couldn't identify and didn't trust; a session with the Stockhausen family that he still, decades later, describes like it happened last week. All of it interrupted, occasionally, by the smell of soup boiling and fresh bread warming on the ceramic stove. After two days, it felt like being handed the end of a very long thread and asked, gently, to keep following it. I left with a USB drive holding his full discography, signed with his unmistakable signature.

Astral Meditations From A Living Statue is a length of that thread, drawn out from the boxes stacked against his walls - recordings gathered from different rooms, different countries, different decades. This first record breathes slowly: incense-thick, meditative, built for stillness. A cutting-edge séance in outer space where machines learn how to dream.

It begins with the neo-classical improvisations of Andrzej, space-delayed, recorded at Klub Muzyki i Literatury in Wrocław in 2002. 'When..So' opens the curtains with a deep-rooted meditation accompanied by slow-decaying piano figures illuminated by a candle-lit spirit gathering.

Los Angeles, 1990: a dormant villa, a grand piano, the voice of Bonnie Barnett. 'Exception' is captured in a single room, in a single afternoon - voice and keys circling each other, neither one leading, until the silence between the notes starts to feel like the instrument.

'The Meta...' and 'Tired Of...', recorded at Studio Morandi in Ponte Nossa, Italy, in 1992, settle into a sitar drone built entirely from patience - overtones stacking and beating against each other, strung by a man who never once set foot in India. 'Mastery Of...' follows, recorded the same year at Studio Suski in Łomianki, pushing that same hum further still, until pitch dissolves into a spectral reverie. 'Transcendental Sound', from 2000, closes the first record in a slow bath of celestial frequency - better heard beside the shores of the Odra river.

More than fifty years after deciding that a life could become an artwork, Andrzej Dudek-Dürer continues to inhabit that decision. His shoes keep wearing thin against the earth's crust. His hair keeps growing, one strand at a time. His cassette tapes keep spooling in the dark of their boxes.

Now the thread finds its last shape: a single unbroken groove, spiralling inward from the outer edge to the label at the centre. Never cut - the way nothing else in his life ever was. Drop the needle and it will find that groove and follow it, the same way a needle once followed leather, once followed a border it couldn't cross, once followed string into an instrument that didn't exist until he built it. This record is the other end of a thread that has been travelling for fifty years. For the length of both sides, it rests here, in your hands. This is a timeless proof that the Lord of the New Age was never lost."

Produced by Andrzej Dudek-Dürer

Mastered by Ruud Lekx

Liner Notes written by Mathias Chaboteaux

Pictures by Andrzej Dudek-Dürer

Artwork by Wojciech Gawronski

Executive Producer: Mathias Chaboteaux

℗© 2026 Huveshta Rituals Records. All rights reserved. HR006

Six years after Nazamba’s first offering, he delivers his final gift: A Message From Zion.

The journey begins with George ’Nazamba’ and Rico ‘O.B.F’, two kindred spirits connected by sound. Countless cross-ocean visits between Kingston and the French Alps, from enjoying hot beers on the beach to reasonings in snowy mountains. Moments that forged a pure brotherhood.

Out of this friendship grew his first album, the self-titled Nazamba in 2019. Now comes his second, a collaboration between Thompson Sound and Dubquake Records. Together, they unite two generations of reggae powerhouses. Produced by Rico O.B.F, the record reimagines classic Thompson Sound gems. Nazamba’s musical storytelling is accompanied by the Roots Radics, with guest appearances from Linval Thompson & Barrington Levy.

Then came silence. In 2022, Nazamba passed on to Zion. The album project was unfinished, yet full of life. What remains is raw, unpolished and painfully beautiful.

A Message From Zion, a celebration of Nazamba’s universe. His voice, wisdom, poetry, heart and spirit. Forward we ah go. Ah true.

“Everything flows – nothing remains, there is only an eternal becoming and changing” is a well-known formulation of the river theory of the Greek philosopher Heraclitus, also known as panta rhei (ancient Greek: πάντα ῥεῖ, “everything flows”). This teaching states that everything in the universe is subject to constant change and that nothing stays the same forever. The metaphor of the river illustrates this: You can't step into the same river twice because both the river and you are constantly changing. The water is constantly flowing, but the river stays in one place. Thus, reality is constantly changing, even if sometimes perceived as constant.”

„Same Same but Different.“ Always different – always the same. Chill-Out DJ Heraklit

For the 26th time, the most consistent of all ambient compilations, in a constant flux of static change, is released on Kompakt. Joining good friends from the early days and reliable confidants are some new additions to the non-hierarchical charts of contemplative rapture culture.

Leading the way is Micå, a Japanese electronic musician whose finely chiseled, graceful musical style has made it onto the new collection with two pieces. Also making his debut is Richard Ojijo, a seasoned sound engineer known, among other things, for his long-standing collaboration with the artist Marcel Odenbach and the Cologne-based label Magazine. Oskø aka Max Hytrek, a multi-talented newcomer to Kompakt and the music scene, debuts with his rapturously ecstatic piece "Ar Vag." He's followed by Sebastian Mullaert, appearing for the second time—this time teamed up with Sebastian Lilja aka Hush Forever. After his surprise return last year after a 20 year hiatus, we are delighted that Tetsuo Sakae aka Pass Into Silence is back again this year with one of his distinctive sound gems. As are Dirk Leyers (Closer Musik) and Mikkel Metal. 18 tracks are featured on this CD. "Erlösung" (Redemption) is the title of Segensklang's closing track. A kind of ambient bolero into infinity. Or at least until next year...

And what would Pop Ambient be without the iconic, artistic cover design of Veronika Unland, who once again, in her unmistakable way, says through the digital flower: The eye always listens...

Live artist Innellea dropped his limited vinyl deluxe album . ‘The Belonging’ including two bonus tracks, poster and colored vinyls. The LP forms part of a conceptual storytelling project. The album features focus track ‘Shelter’ w. CamelPhat & Monolink, along with diverse and significant collabs with Grammy winner Flowdan, Swedish indie singer/songwriter Karin Park, live musician Juan Hansen. Additionally the deluxe vinyl album includes Innellea´s feature with Paris Paloma 'under Earth'

‘The Belonging’ project is a cohesive multi-media concept, comprising the album heralded by a series of singles, multiple music videos. All of this will evoke a ‘collective catharsis’ after charting a personal and universal journey. This says Innellea: ‘As personal crises are part of life, we want to go through this journey collectively, from a silent, burned out state of ‘Where do we belong?’ Together, we will go forward forever through all the insanity until the certainty that ‘We belong here!’ as each track charts a step away from crisis, towards this feeling of belonging.

Still hot on the heels of compiling the first volume of the Italian Dancefloor Outsiders, and moved by the urge to explore new musical landscapes and discover sounds produced in subsequent years, we decided to continue our quest of tracking an alternative map of what was happen- ing in the Italian electronic music scene. This second volume takes inspiration from the concept of “Mezzanotte Mezzogiorno” (literally “from Midnight to Midday”), a term first used for a now legendary party held in 1992 at Club Imperi- ale in Tirrenia, Tuscany. The owner of the club, Roberto Pannocchia, was eager to attract a different kind of audience to his venue and so decided to extend the closing time until midday, well beyond the Italian law limits. But as Imperiale was a members club, he was allowed to do it, and he already knew that this act would forever shape the Italian club scene. "Mezzanotte Mezzogiorno" was then used to describe long dancing marathons that lasted for the whole weekend, spread across clubs, after-parties and more off-the-grid open air venues but, most of all, became the symbol of an era. The music ranged from slow, pitched-down landscapes to epic techno progressions, filling both feverishly packed big rooms and colourful chillout zones. A parabola of musical move- ments related to specific genres was born, reaching its peak and then fading towards the end of the millenium.

The final collaboration between Eliane Radigue and Important Records is this double LP edition of Triptych. Radigue insisted that her music only be released on vinyl if the pieces would fit without being edited or cut. Triptych met those requirements leaving room for an etching on the 4th side.

Back to music after three years of silence... On the suggestion of Robert Ashley, Douglas Dunn commissioned Triptych from Eliane Radigue for choreography. Only the first part of Triptych was staged at the premiere at the Dancehall/Theatre of Nancy on February 27 1978. Recorded in the composer's studio in Paris.

After the 1974 premiere of Adnos in San Francisco, a group of French students introduced Eliane Radigue to Tibetan Buddhism. When she returned to Paris, she†began to explore this spirituality in depth, which slowed her musical production up until 1978. Triptych marks her return to composition, and draws its inspiration from "the spirit of the fundamental elements, water, air, fire, earth" Eliane Radigue likes to add that this has often been useful to her in her moments of research and transitions.

This three-part composition, with its great humility and contemplative simplicity, heralded a new period of her work and was the first in a series of masterpieces inspired by Tibetan Buddhism: Adnos Trilogy (1980), Songs of Milarepa (1983) - with the voices of Lama Kunga Rinpoche and Robert Ashley , "Jetsun Mila"(1986), as well as the Trilogy of Death: Kyema (1988), Kailasha†(1991) and Koume†(1993).

-Manu Holterbach (translation: Maxime Guitton)

Inner City Sound Archives returns with its second chapter — digging deeper into the forgotten vaults of New York’s underground disco culture.

This new volume brings to light another cache of mysterious acetate recordings: no titles, no credits, just cryptic handwriting, tape hiss, and the unmistakable pulse of a bygone era. Painstakingly transferred and fully remastered through analog processes, these raw and extended cuts preserve the full emotional weight of the original sessions — dusty, physical, and made to move bodies in the dark.

These are tracks that once passed hand-to-hand among a tight circle of selectors, whispered about and played just once or twice at legendary loft parties between 1978 and 1983. Then, silence. Until now. Once championed in the shadows by the likes of Larry Levan, Francis Grasso, Steve D’Acquisto, but also by more elusive selectors like Bobby Guttadaro, Michael Cappello, Roy Thode, and Mark Paul Simon — these grooves return to tell their story, the way they were meant to be heard. Each piece is a sonic time capsule — hypnotic, unpolished, and intimate. Pressed loud and with care, for those who still believe in the ritual of vinyl.

REPRESS ON SILVER VINYL . COMES WITH 24”x24” POSTER + DOWNLOAD CARD + GATEFOLD JACKET.


On The Beths’ album Expert In A Dying Field, Elizabeth Stokes’ songwriting positions her somewhere between being a novelist and a documentarian. The songs collected here are autobiographical, but they’re also character sketches of relationships – platonic, familial, romantic – and more importantly, their aftermaths. The shapes and ghosts left in absences. The question that hangs in the air: what do you do with how intimately versed you’ve become in a person, once they’re gone from your life?

The third LP from the New Zealand quartet houses 12 jewels of tight, guitar-heavy songs that worm their way into your head, an incandescent collision of power-pop and skuzz. With Expert, The Beths wanted to make an album meant to be experienced live, for both the listeners and themselves. They wanted it to be fun -- to hear, to play -- in spite of the prickling anxiety throughout the lyrics, the fear of change and struggle to cope.

Most of Expert was recorded at guitarist Jonathan Pearce’s studio on Karangahape Road in Tāmaki Makaurau, Aotearoa (Auckland, New Zealand) -- and sometimes in the building's cavernous stairwell at 1am -- toward the end of 2021, until they were interrupted by a four-month national lockdown. They traded notes remotely for months, songwriting from afar and fleshing out the arrangements alone, the first time they’d written together in such a way. The following February, The Beths left the country for the first time in more than two years to tour across the US, and simultaneously finish mixing the album on the road. That latter half felt more collaborative, with everyone on-hand to trade notes in real time, until it all culminated in a chaotic three-day studio mad-dash in Los Angeles. There, Expert finally became the record they were hearing in their heads.

Expert is an extension of the same skuzzy palette the band has built across their catalog, pop hooks embedded in incisive indie rock. The album’s title track “Expert In A Dying Field” introduces the thesis for the record: “How does it feel to be an expert in a dying field? How do you know it’s over when you can’t let go?” Stokes asks. “Love is learned over time ‘til you’re an expert in a dying field.”

The rest is a capsule of The Beths’ most electrifying and exciting output, a sonic spectrum: “Your Side” is a forlorn and sincere love song, emotive; while “Silence is Golden,” with its propulsive drum line and stop-start staccato of a guitar line winding up and down, is one of the band’s sharpest and most driving. “When You Know You Know” skews a bit groovier, pure pop and a natural addition to the band’s live set. “Knees Deep” was written last minute, but yields one of the best guitar lines on Expert. There’s a certain chaos across the 12 tracks, the palpable joy of playing music with long-time friends colliding with the raw nerves of pain.

Stokes strings it all together through her singular songwriting lens, earnest and self-effacing, zeroing in on the granules of doubt and how they snowball. Did I do the wrong thing? Or did you? And are we still good people at the end of it? She isn’t interested in villains, but instead interested in just telling the story. That insecurity and thoughtfulness, translated into universality and understanding, has been the guiding light of The Beths’ output since 2016. In the face of pain, there’s no dwelling on internal anguish - instead, through The Beths’ music, our shortcomings are met with acceptance. And Expert In A Dying Field is the most tactile that tenderness has been.

**RED VINYL**Bookending “This Is My Blood “ are two cinematic hypnotist slide lute pieces that evoke contemporary deserted landscapes. They were improvised and made for “ Maquina”, a film shot in the Colorado desert during a psychedelic trip by film maker Joaquim Pujol. The works on here, like the ecstatic second piece invite a return to long form listening. They explore contemporary darkness and contemplate personal loss. There is solely one vocal piece, “ Remission”. A worldwide concert tour of this material is slated for 2026/2027. Since studying the lute in New York with Patrick O'Brien in the 1990s, Van Wissem has gone on to create works equally as rooted in classical Renaissance and Baroque forms of lute music, as contemporary sounds spanning drones, electronics and field recordings. Throw in some of his formative influences from the no wave and industrial scenes, alongside a dedicated approach to minimalism and this has resulted in Van Wissem producing distinct and singular work whose sound is often a marriage of opposites; meditative and intense, forward thinking but with a sense of the arcane. The Quietus has called him "probably the most famous lutenist in the world”. Jozef Van Wissem is an avant-garde composer and lutenist who plays a unique all-black baroque lute. His timeless music is often described as hypnotic, minimal, and hauntingly atmospheric, merging beauty with a dark, meditative edge. His lyrics have a mythical Christian appeal, incorporating themes of love, faith, and the afterlife, often with a repetitive, mantra-like quality. Bridging classical traditions with modern sounds like drones, electronics, field recordings and voice. He collaborates with filmmaker and musician Jim Jarmusch, including the award-winning soundtrack for Only Lovers Left Alive, for which Van Wissem won the Cannes Soundtrack Award in 2013. He also scored the Sims Medieval Video game ( 2011), Uncle Howard ( 2016) Land (2018), Irma Vep (2022), Queens (2023) and Un Prince (2024). He did a world tour in duo with Jarmusch in 2025 and their 5th record “ The Day The Angels Cried” was released. Van Wissem tours extensively, performing in diverse venues from rock festivals to churches, and has worked with artists like Tilda Swinton and Zola Jesus. In 2019 he was commissioned by Cinematheque Francaise to score the silent horror film Nosferatu (1922). He released the soundtrack in 2022 on his own Incunabulum label. The New York Times wrote: Beginning with a solo played on the lute, his performance will incorporate electric guitar and distorted recordings of extinct birds, graduating from subtlety to gothic horror. “My soundtrack goes from silence to noise over the course of 90 minutes,” he said, culminating in “dense, slow death metal.” In 2024 Van Wissem did a sold out nationwide American tour with the film. A worldwide tour is slated for 2026/2027

Faitiche welcomes a new artist: Christina Kubisch belongs to the first generation of sound artists. Her practice ranges from performances, concerts, to works with video and visual art, but she is best known for her sound installations and electro-acoustic compositions.

TUNING brings together three pieces by Christina Kubisch from different periods of her oeuvre. What they have in common is the way they transform sound phenomena originally considered “non-music” into compositions.

Jan Jelinek: Gaming in Silence (2024) is the most recent work on this compilation. It’s a collage of electromagnetic waves, voice, and abstract sound textures. How did this combination come about?

Christina Kubisch: Gaming was commissioned as a fixed-media composition for the Sound Dome at ZKM Karlsruhe. Since Resonances: The Electromagnetic Bodies Project (2005), I’ve been making recordings in the old and new server rooms at the ZKM and in their permanent collection of historical computer games. Computer games like Asteroids (Atari, 1979) and Poly-Play (VEB Polytechnik, 1986) have specially generated analogue electromagnetic waves that interest me in particular on account of their density, rhythms and textures. I originally studied painting and to me the work of composition often feels like painting an abstract picture. I alter my source material as little as possible, layering and overlapping until a distinctive sound space emerges. In recent pieces, I sometimes combine magnetic waves with field recordings or live instruments. In Gaming it’s my recording of a Chinese song about silence.

JJ: Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004) is a recording from your Electrical Walks series. Here we should give a brief explanation of one of your best known works: participants in an Electrical Walk move through public spaces wearing prepared headphones that allow them to receive electromagnetic waves from their surroundings – for example from security gates, ATMs or neon signs. They discover a situation that normally is inaudible to the human ear and they can actively shape it by choreographing their movements. I really admire this piece, not least because there’s no clear dividing line between participants and artist. What exactly do we hear in Two persons walking through a street in Madrid (2004)?

CK: With this early work, I wanted to understand what is heard by people participating in an Electrical Walk in the same place but moving in different ways. The Spanish composer Miguel Alvarez-Fernàndez and I set off from opposite ends of a major shopping street in Madrid, met briefly in the middle, and then continued to the end. We both recorded our walks and I then layered them over one another. You might call it a work of electromagnetic conceptualism.

JJ: Diapason (2009 version) is an installation that plays a composition based on sounds from fifteen tuning forks. This setting is audible in the recording: there’s no dramatic arc, no beginning or end – instead, it recalls a piece of aleatoric music focussing on the decay phase. How did you come to make this work and could you tell us something about your compositional method?

CK: Diapason is part of a series of three pieces that deal with “non-instruments” or instruments that no longer exist: electrical mine bells used to send signals to the workers underground; a historical glass harmonica originally used for medicinal purposes; and tuning forks that were used by doctors to test people’s hearing. All of these methods are no longer in use. The sound of the tuning forks, audible only if held close to the ear, was recorded at the electronic studio at Berlin’s Technical University in such a way that even their decay remained audible. The frequencies range between 64 and 2048 Hertz and they can be adjusted at micro-intervals using small movable weights. The sequence and the duration of the pauses are dictated by chance and were not defined in advance. The 2009 version was created for an installation in the historic Holy Cross Church (Korskirken) in Bergen. Visitors could enter and leave the space at any time, deciding for themselves where and for how long they wished to listen to the sounds played back over an array of small loudspeakers placed on the floor of the apse.

Credits:

Gaming in Silence: commission of the ZKM/Hertzlab, Karlsruhe 2023
elektronic sound processing: Tom Thiel
sound engineering and mixing: Eckehard Güther

Diapason: produced at Elektronisches Studio of TU Berlin
rearrangement: Eckehard Güther

Christina Kubisch, published by Edition Christina Kubisch / Random Musick Publishing

image front: Transitionen 2021 by C. Kubisch, sonagrams of electronic waves (courtesy: Galerie Mazzoli Berlin)
image back: Diapason Tuning Fork, property of Folkmar Hein, Photo: Archiv Christina Kubisch

design by Tim Tetzner
mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi
Thanks to Miguel Álvarez-Fernández, Folkmar Hein, Dominik Kautz and Mario Mazzoli

The first resonant space Zosha Warpeha played in was the Emanuel Vigeland Museum in Oslo, Norway. Built as a mausoleum, its walls reach up into a gradual archway, creating an environment where sound expands and reverberates for twelve seconds before decaying into silence. Warpeha was greeted only by dim lights when she entered, and it wasn’t until she had spent several minutes listening that she was able to make out the frescoes that covered every inch of the room: graphic depictions of the cycle of life from conception through death. As the sound of her Hardanger d’amore encountered the walls and these slowly emerging scenes, they obscured its point of origin in both time and space, augmenting its own life cycle. The experience sat in the back of her mind over the next several years as she developed her own patient style of composition and performance, one that comes into full bloom on her new album I grow accustomed to the dark.

When Warpeha was selected as an artist in residence at Brooklyn’s ISSUE Project Room in 2025, she saw it as an opportunity to more intentionally explore how her music might fill a room with ample natural reverb. I grow accustomed to the dark documents two single-take solo performances for Hardanger d’amore and voice at IPR, with both pieces composed in a unique tuning system developed to interact with the space itself. Listeners can trace resonance from the contact of the bow on gut strings into the body of the instrument, its five sympathetic strings offering another layer of refraction, before the sound is thrown about the cavity of the room. The echoes emerge like a photographic double exposure, or wisps of smoke that linger in the air, creating ghostly harmonic convergences that blur the line between what is there and not-there. Sound begins to act like light, a synesthetic alchemy that transforms drones into beams and ornamental trills into flickers.

Both side-long compositions, “filament” and “visual purple,” exemplify a duality that animates Warpeha’s music: an expressive, individualistic style that draws on extensive knowledge of her instrument’s history in folk traditions, and an austere, devotional quality maintained by focus and precision. Though very different in character and structure, both pieces evolve slowly through numerous repetitive phrases, passages of stillness, and bursts of intensity. “filament” opens with a cycle of delicate melodic fragments played and sung around a drone before blossoming into an outpouring of swooping arpeggios, harmonics flying from the strings like sparks off a bonfire. The disorienting pulsation of harmonic beating forms the core of “visual purple,” the close-tone dissonance building to a swarm of open strings ringing boldly throughout the space. After the knotty tones reach their climax, the piece collapses into studied quietude, hushed, but without any drop in intensity.

When Warpeha first visited the Vigeland Museum in 2019, she was in Oslo to deepen her relationship to the Hardanger fiddle through the study of Norwegian traditional music, which is primarily passed down aurally. The experience of learning songs by ear, not only internalizing the tune but also absorbing the techniques and tonalities by listening, was a crucial step in her development as a composer. The years since have seen her sharpen those skills as a prolific member of the New York avant-garde and improvised music communities. Warpeha’s music encourages listeners to join her in this journey, to listen closely with each repeated phrase and through each dramatic shift. Like the frescoes on Vigeland’s walls, with time and intention, the depth of I grow accustomed to the dark comes on like a revelation.

For here lies one of the most influential bands in the realm of gothic metal, a group with doom and death metal roots that has flourished for over three decades, boasting thirteen albums that have garnered devoted acclaim. This injustice is now being set right by The Circle Music , beginning with the vinyl release of the classic album "Burning: A Wish", which emerged twenty-four years ago. "Burning: A Wish", released in the twilight of the year 2001, stands as a dark reliquary of dreams lost to the velvet fog of melancholy. To revisit it now, two dozen years later, is to unseal a time capsule of gothic ache, doom- laced longing, and the tormented tenderness that only Lacrimas Profundere could conjure at their creative height. It was a candle-lit corridor between worlds. A slow fall into velvet shadows. A scream muffled by rain.

By the time "Burning: A Wish" was released, Lacrimas Profundere had already begun to evolve from their early death- doom origins, shaping their identity with the sophistication of seasoned mourners. The death growls had receded, replaced by the haunted, baritone croon of Christopher Schmid, whose voice is an echo from a chapel ruined by time. Yet, while the growls faded, the emotional gravitas remained intact, transmuted into melody, into baroque gloom, into something more sorrowfully refined. Produced with lush, theatrical clarity, the album never drowns in its own atmosphere, it breathes with it, moves with it. The soundscape is dominated by somber guitar textures, languid tempos, and subtle orchestral touches. From the very first notes, it is clear that this is music for ruined lovers and moon-drenched graveyards.

This is the hallmark of Lacrimas Profundere 's style: an emotional minimalism that does not explain or elaborate, but merely opens wounds and lets them breathe. That this album has remained, until now, absent from the warm embrace of vinyl is both tragic and oddly poetic. For what format better suits a record such as this than the one that cracks and hisses like an old seance? Vinyl is tactile, intimate. It requires attention, reverence. To place Burning: A Wish on a turntable is to light a candle in the dark.

The glimmer in our eyes gallops as a wild stallion toward infinity, in a screaming silence, wears the cape of innocent understanding. Our love is a grave danger, which doesn't shy away from its fate. There is nothing to be afraid of tonight. Love is the bastard child of the Heavens and the pits of hell, it encompasses the entirety of human suffering.
What if we isolate it to a singular moment? Quick and wonderful moment, without trying to hold on to it and wanting it to stay forever?
Between the concrete to the woods to the sea We will be quiet until we understand That this, this is momentary and unfathomable We will take this in, with a deep breath
Until we plunge in and scatter For out of particles wast thou taken and unto particles shalt thou return Walking the line drawn exactly between chaos and symbiotic harmony.

Rhiza Semar presents its fourth chapter with Yildizlara, a four-track odyssey shaped from shadow, rhythm, and elemental texture. Crafted as both visceral tools and introspective journeys, the record navigates between ominous density and luminous release, guided by a deep awareness of space, myth, and matter. As an artist, Hitam paves the way for a new sound emerging from his burrows to build bridges between electronic subgenres while shaping a landscape unmistakably his own. Orb Weaver opens the cycle with jagged IDM rhythms that coil and release like threads of a web pulled taut. Originally composed for the graduation project of fashion designer Tim van der Plas, who's collection was inspired on climbing out of depression, its atmosphere is dark and ceremonial, with textures scraping against silence until catharsis emerges from the tension. A confrontation between inner turmoil and release. On Vanishing of the Anasazi, cavernous reverbs carry traces of lost structures, percussion echoing as if across ruins. A relentless drive holds the ghost of ritual processions, summoning a spectral energy that feels at once monumental and hollowed-out. The track suspends itself between presence and absence, architecture and collapse, leaving the listener in a space where echoes become the only surviving form of memory. Mesh Grip plunges downward into subterranean force. A thundering groove rumbles like minerals being unearthed, goblin-like figures at work in hidden shafts, chiseling away at stone in endless rhythm. From this pressure, a sudden swell of melancholy pads rises, reframing the heaviness with emotional resonance as if the whispers of angelic guardians seep into the caverns, transforming extraction into elegy. What begins as pure drive of endurance evolves into an introspective meditation. Closing the release, Yildizlara unfolds as an epic ascent. Layered rhythms rush forward with urgency, intricate yet propulsive, while chopped vocals bring back a sensual human element, scattering like signals across the night sky. Animalistic atmospheres dart through the mix as spectral cries and furtive movements, adding a primal dimension to the drive. What begins as erratic and untamed slowly converges into warmth and ultimate catharsis: a cosmic tale inscribed in sound, both intimate and monumental, familiar yet born of hidden memory. Yildizlara is both innovative and ancestral; a release where turbulence becomes ritual, and where rhythmic complexity unearths fragments of hidden memory. Beneath its dark and erratic surfaces lies a strange familiarity, like echoes of a primal past resurfacing through sound, reminding us of worlds once known but long concealed. Words by A. Veyra

Japanese black metal legends Sigh formed in 1989/1990. The genre-classic debut ‘Scorn Defeat’ followed on Euronymous’ Deathlike Silence Productions in 1993 & with each subsequent release, Sigh grew to become one of the country’s greatest & most revered metal exports. With a journey through the strange & the psychedelic, incorporating a whole eclectic mix of genre styles & experimentation throughout their career, Sigh has remained a vital creative force in the avantgarde field whilst maintaining their old school roots, as witnessed with the stellar 2022 album, ‘Shiki’. 2025 also saw Sigh reimagining their ‘Hangman’s Hymn’ album for a release on Peaceville as part of the band’s 35th anniversary celebrations, in the shape of ‘I Saw The World’s End: Hangman’s Hymn MMXXV’.

Maintaining the core trio of Mirai Kawashima, Shinichi Ishikawa & Satoshi Fujinami & on the back of the epic & darkly symphonic opus ‘Infidel Art’ (1995), Sigh adopted a more boundary-defying approach to their writing, whilst still keeping the dark foundations & traits of the band’s fundamental sound. The result was ‘Ghastly Funeral Theatre’ which surfaced in 1997 & draped in Eastern & horror-based atmospherics, the band also embraced elements outside of metal with what was their most experimental offering to date; utilising instruments such as the saxophone as well as acoustic passages & notoriously drawing comparisons to the moods of bands such as The Beatles at times, featuring catchy hooks & structures in line with the rock music genre, but masterfully woven into Sigh’s unique blackened metal tapestry.

Continuing with Peaceville’s re-issues of Sigh’s classic early ( & until now, hard to find) works, this edition of ‘Ghastly Funeral Theatre’ contains a new master created by Patrick Engel at Temple of Disharmony, featuring a new transfer from the original DAT source.

The release also includes a new interview with main-man Mirai Kawashima conducted by Dayal Patterson of Cult Never Dies, delving into the history & inspirations behind ‘Ghastly Funeral Theatre’.

This edition of ‘Ghastly Funeral Theatre’ is presented on black vinyl.

Japanese black metal legends Sigh formed in 1989/1990. The genre-classic debut ‘Scorn Defeat’ followed on Euronymous’ Deathlike Silence Productions in 1993 & with each subsequent release, Sigh grew to become one of the country’s greatest & most revered metal exports. With a journey through the strange & the psychedelic, incorporating a whole eclectic mix of genre styles & experimentation throughout their career, Sigh has remained a vital creative force in the avantgarde field whilst maintaining their old school roots, as witnessed with the stellar 2022 album, ‘Shiki’. 2025 also saw Sigh reimagining their ‘Hangman’s Hymn’ album for a release on Peaceville as part of the band’s 35th anniversary celebrations, in the shape of ‘I Saw The World’s End: Hangman’s Hymn MMXXV’.

Maintaining the core trio of Mirai Kawashima, Shinichi Ishikawa & Satoshi Fujinami & on the back of the epic & darkly symphonic opus ‘Infidel Art’ (1995), Sigh adopted a more boundary-defying approach to their writing, whilst still keeping the dark foundations & traits of the band’s fundamental sound. The result was ‘Ghastly Funeral Theatre’ which surfaced in 1997 & draped in Eastern & horror-based atmospherics, the band also embraced elements outside of metal with what was their most experimental offering to date; utilising instruments such as the saxophone as well as acoustic passages & notoriously drawing comparisons to the moods of bands such as The Beatles at times, featuring catchy hooks & structures in line with the rock music genre, but masterfully woven into Sigh’s unique blackened metal tapestry.

Continuing with Peaceville’s re-issues of Sigh’s classic early ( & until now, hard to find) works, this edition of ‘Ghastly Funeral Theatre’ contains a new master created by Patrick Engel at Temple of Disharmony, featuring a new transfer from the original DAT source.

The release also includes a new interview with main-man Mirai Kawashima conducted by Dayal Patterson of Cult Never Dies, delving into the history & inspirations behind ‘Ghastly Funeral Theatre’.

This edition of ‘Ghastly Funeral Theatre’ is presented on black vinyl.

Chaos is fundamental for creating something powerful. It teaches us to be at ease with how things are, to listen to ourselves, and find our own order’. (Enrico Sangiuliano)

Pioneering, avant garde yet chart-storming sound designer/producer/live performer Enrico Sangiuliano drops EP ‘Order In Chaos’ as release #1 in his self-destructing countdown imprint ‘NINETOZERO’, out 20th November. The EP’s three tracks respectively represent a triptych of sound exploring tension, release, and dissolution, with violinist and composer Vito Gatto joining Italian techno/melodic maestro Sangiuliano for tracks 1 and 3. The EP blends electronic, classical and electro-acoustic genres, resulting in a fresh, unique product that defies typical techno expectation, as Sangiuliano and Gatto explore the concept of disorder as a creative playground.

‘With this chapter, we dive into chaos – something that can be uncomfortable, but is the place in which you can find unexpected or new ideas. Chaos is fundamental for creating something powerful. It teaches us to be at ease with how things are, to listen to ourselves, and find our own order’. (Sangiuliano)

The ‘Order In Chaos’ EP continues a momentous year for Enrico Sangiuliano, and heralds his upcoming all-night-long SOLO show at Nitsa in Barcelona (Nov 28th, tickets here). His highly acclaimed NINETOZERO label has also previously featured Charlotte de Witte, Antonio d’Africa, Mattia Saviolo, GMS, Alex Lentini, STOMP BOXX, Zimmz, Secret Cinema and About Sofiya.

Vito Gatto is a Milan-based violinist, composer and sound explorer. He is the founder of label/collective NeMu (‘Neutral Mutation’) producing Italian projects at the interface of electronic and organic sound. His self-description as ‘Making sounds, looking for silence’ makes him the perfect collab partner for ‘Order In Chaos’, which ‘embraces the paradox: chaos births order, and order dissolves back into chaos.’

‘Whilst classically trained, I have always been fascinated by the world of electronic music, in all its expressive forms’ Gatto says. ‘I use real instruments and natural sound sources processing them through electronics to enhance their unpredictability, always remembering that the core of music - whether classical or electronic - is communication and storytelling. This philosophy guided our creative synthesis on this release.’

The collaborative workflow combined remote and in-person studio work over roughly a year, culminating in these three key tracks reflecting different musical and conceptual layers.

‘Order In Chaos’ EP tracks:
Enrico Sangiuliano & Vito Gatto ‘Adaptation for Strings and 909’: A cinematic overture built from the raw intimacy of Vito Gatto’s violin, processed and layered with unquantized 909 drums. Out of grid, out of rules. Drama and turbulence surge until thunderous kicks strike like sudden storms. ‘This track symbolises both of us. Vito sent the strings, I added the iconic Roland 909. It has no structure and no grid, the arrangement is not precise, it’s a very pure track and a great example of disorder and freedom.’
Enrico Sangiuliano ‘Order in Chaos’: The title track is a pure techno weapon and dancefloor igniter: rolling, stripped, euphoric. A shape-shifting lead synth constantly mutates, flirting with disorder until the kick restores gravity. Chaos becomes dancefloor order.
Enrico Sangiuliano & Vito Gatto ‘Dissolution’: The closing moment. Strings and drums dissolve into a weightless drone. Beatless and infinite, it invites surrender into space. ‘This cinematic track slowly melts ‘Order in Chaos’, adding processed organic sounds and field recordings from the mountains.. coming back to nature, and silence.’ (Gatto).

Still #0 to go in the NINETOZERO countdown… And then what? With Sangiuliano, it’ll be something unexpected and brilliantly innovative.

Dharmacide is a Spanish band known for their eclectic fusion of genres, blending elements of shoegaze and dreampop music. Their sound is marked by intricate guitar riffs, powerful drumming, and deep, emotive vocals that create a unique atmosphere. The band, with members of Alcalá Norte and Depresión Sonora, has made a huge impact on various stages, performing at renowned venues and festivals, including iconic spots in their home country as well as internationally, earning praise for their high-energy performances and thoughtful compositions. Their latest singles have been produced, mixed and mastered by Mark Gardener from Ride. "Tougher Than the Rest" is their awaited second album. They take a step forward with a darker sound with gloomy riffs and ethereal voices in which they describe perfectly how the sound of a night full of random events -that surely, we all have experienced- would be like. Their sound is influenced by today's bands like Diiv, Warpaint or Beach House but also by classic artists like Cocteau Twins, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds or Tom Waits. 'The Cigs, The Light, The Coffee and Crying' is the first single in which we find a powerful reverb-laden riff with a solo vocal melody in the middle of the chaos until breaking into a powerful chorus. Their debut LP "Cult Band Member" (2021) is sold out and the growing interest in the band anticipates that copies of this new album will not last long.

"It may surprise some that, after two decades of silent films, when Alam Ara broke the silence in 1931, it and every South Asian talkie that followed was what we in the West think of as a "musical." Music had been integral to the culture's staged drama going back to the Gupta Dynasty — sometime between the 4 th and 6 th Century CE. Since its inception, South Asian cinema drew heavily from Marathi, Parsi, and Bengali musical theatre and silent film screenings were often accompanied by live music to mimic a live staged experience.

When sound films arrived, actors with serious singing skills became the next wave of stars. Songs were performed live while shooting, with musicians hidden off-camera, to the side or sometimes even in trees. Playback singing — the practice of dubbing a real singer's voice over a lip-syncing actor — didn't become standard until the 1940s.

Thus, the biggest stars of the 1930s were also the greatest singers, with some, like Govindrao Tembe and Pankaj Mullick, excelling as both composers and vocalists. None, however, were more beloved than K.L. Saigal, whose emotional, untrained crooning captivated audiences across the subcontinent. Saigal's voice inspired a young Lata Mangeshkar, who vowed to become India's greatest filmi singer to win his heart. Sadly, Saigal grew increasingly addicted to alcohol, unable to perform without it, and passed away at age 42, seven months before the Partition. Lata never married.

This collection features some of the earliest songs from South Asian cinema, sourced from CDs and LPs found in Jackson Heights, Queens, Coney Island Avenue in Brooklyn, Lexington Avenue in Manhattan, and Oak Tree Road in Iselin, New Jersey — areas home to vibrant immigrant communities. South Asian immigration to New York and New Jersey surged after the 1965 Immigration and Nationality Act, which lifted non-European quotas. By the 1990s and 2000s, the region's Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi media outlets flourished, especially in Jackson Heights, where such stores outnumbered the total number of regular record shops throughout the five boroughs.

The nascent period of sound film featured a limited palette of musical styles, predominantly Marathi Bhagveet, like the Ghazal, but with greater flexibility of subject matter and rhythm, and Rabindra Sangeet, the approximately 2,000 songs and poems composed by Bengali Nobel laureate Rabindranath Tagore. But there was some evolution as well, with the success of South Asian cinema's first woman composer, the classically trained Saraswati Devi, and the introduction of Western instruments including the piano and Hawaiian guitar.

While much of the music was dark and brooding, perhaps exemplified best by Devika Rani's interpretation of Saraswati Devi's "Udi Hawa Mein" from 1936's Achhut Kannya (Untouchable Maiden), there were moments of brightness, such as R.C. Boral's "Lachhmi Murat Daras Dikhaye" sung by Kanan Devi in Street Singer, an otherwise thoroughly depressing film from 1938 that cemented Devi's and co-star K.L. Saigal's superstardom.

This selection was chosen to emphasise a range of expressivity, instrumentation and style achieved even within the decade's relatively limited scope, setting the listener up for the relative explosion of possibility in the 1940s, to be covered in the next installment of this series."

Wally Badarou is a synth pioneer and musical polymath. But rarely does he sing over his sumptuous tracks. The 6 songs that comprise new record Simple Things finally realise Wally's vision for select backing tracks from his beloved Colors Of Silence.

The tracks were originally developed back in 2001 for the release of the original CD; here, Wally has “simply" added overdubs and vocals to their mastered mixes with some discerning edits. Simply put, Simple Things is another slice of simply stunning Wally Badarou genius.

Simple Things has been decades in the making. Indeed, Wally struggled not only with the idea of singing these wonderful songs himself but singing them in English and writing his own lyrics, while wrestling with the sensational backing tracks, which themselves seemed to have taken on a life of their own.

As Wally explained to us: "In addition to the instrumental artist I have been known as, so far, there has always been a singer who simply was not sure he was, up until now. Even though “Back To Scales Tonight”, my very first album, was, indeed, a song album."

Opener "It Couldn't Be You" embellishes the uptempo groove of soca-funk gem "The Lights Of Kinshasa". As Wally explained to us, it's about “a simple love story somewhere, one rainy night, under the lights of Kinshasa. A woman, a man, online dating, quite usual in our times. Then they meet, almost missing each other." The guide vocal Wally had laid for Colors Of Silence - with an organ sound - seemed striving for words in Linguala, a Congolese language he could not speak. Therefore the decision to do it himself was not an easy one, for it had to be in English to fit his singing. We think it turned out pretty good!

"You Can't Hide Always" vocalises Wally's deep concerns set to the propulsive "Smiles By The Millions": "Populism, ostracism, radicalism, ethics and values all turned upside down worldwide, are they all inevitably exacerbated by our social networks? It could all melt down one day, like a house of cards in the ocean of fake news and false prophecies”. Wally wanted to keep the track as bare as possible but, inevitably, the backing vocals and the synth-brass arrive ultimately to present a welcome 70s flavour, with no snare-drum added.

The bright and breezy "We'll Make It Again" adds vocals to "Where Were We", a tropical, reggae-tinged bounce through the islands. Here's Waly: "Where were we when we last said: "I love you"? Simple words to express something quite common, but never quite simple to deal with. A simple song about the resilience of the broken hearts.” The reggae came from it being conceived when Wally was scoring for “Third World Cop”, a 1999 Jamaican action movie.

"Walk Straight Ahead" provides Wally's gorgeous, contemplative and idiosyncratic vocals to the deep serenity of Colors Of Silence highlight, "Amber Whispers". It's a gliding, divine, mini melodic masterpiece. It'll make you swoon in its extreme beauty. As Wally describes, "it started as just whispers, sweet amber whispers. Then the colour turned darker, as darker skies seemed to fall upon us while the whole world keeps on walking ahead, straight ahead, regardless of the blatant warnings, feeling much too comfortable in conformity. Initially, the verses were to be spoken only. I realised they could be sung all the while, without overshadowing the ethereal atmosphere." Amen.

The serene, celestial "Painting My Life Blue" presents the vocal version of "Days To Wonder". Says Wally, "how does it feel when your second half is gone after decades of riding life together? Past the temporary loss of your bearings, you come to realise you've been blind to the essential, and suddenly you can see...For this most intimate song of mine, I had tried to come up with a melody on top of the existing backing track, long before realising the melody was in the keyboard part already. It just needed to be properly mixed with it."

The profoundly emotional "Just Two Lovers" works up the formerly-too-brief and glorious "Crystal Falls" into a much fuller masterpiece and features acoustic guitar sparkle before fully glistening with some gentle head-nod percussion. Waly explains further: "Dear little green men, please tell me, what is it about us that makes you want to come and visit us so often (contrary to Fermi's assertion)? And here is the reply I believe I heard them sing: "You've got the key you've been searching for: Love”. I reverted to the initial backing track I had made around 1985, which already bore the melody, and which I added acoustic guitars to, before singing it." An astounding closer.

A synth specialist, there can be few artists more under-appreciated given their vast influence than Wally Badarou. His solo work practically defined the sound of the Balearic DJs of the 1980s, and thus the more sophisticated sound of dance culture thereafter. He was one of the Compass Point All Stars (with Sly and Robbie, Barry Reynolds, Mikey Chung and Uziah "Sticky" Thompson), the in-house recording team of Compass Point Studios responsible for a series of albums in the 1980s recorded by Grace Jones, Tom Tom Club, Mick Jagger, Black Uhuru, Gwen Guthrie, Jimmy Cliff and Gregory Isaacs. Badarou's keyboard playing could also be heard on albums by Robert Palmer, Marianne Faithfull, Herbie Hancock, M (Pop Muzik), Talking Heads, Manu Dibango and Miriam Makeba. He also produced Fela Kuti. Phew!

When we asked Wally about the significance of this collection's title, he explained: "These are "Simple things” that everyday’s life seems to build upon. The simplest are the harder to describe, but when satisfactorily described i.e. with simple words, they are the more genuine and authentic to express and share. I’ve immersed myself in other classic song lyrics, something I hardly did before, just to appreciate the genius behind the simple words they were made of, and had a great time studying how powerful they were in expressing complex ideas such as love."

Recording was twofold: first, most of the backing tracks were recorded in 2001, in Wally's studio in Normandy, mostly using hardware synths and Yamaha digital consoles. Then, he fine-tuned the melodies and wrote the lyrics in late 2023, then added some overdubs and sang them all during summer 2024. States Wally, "Digital Performer was and remains the DAW I’ve been using throughout, ever since the 80s."

Wally's sophisticated synth textures and expressive keyboard runs are so full of character, so full of life, that this work of art transcends any easy genre categorisation. Meticulously remastered and cut by both Simon Francis and Cicely Balston respectively, it has been pressed to the highest possibly quality at Record Industry in Holland. Sometimes, the simple things are the most extraordinary.

Following their eponymous debut album and the vertiginous Everest, Rue des Garderies continue their semi-narcotic explorations with Jiddu.


Around a stretched, distorted sample, a 16-minute improvisation recorded on a summer's night, interacting with their immediate environment: truncated discussions, laughter, noises of joy, silences, love...


The whole piece seems to exist in an unknown zone of our psyche - unknown until then, but which was obvious at the time: an automatic writing done in total freedom, reminiscent of trip-hop and abstract electronic from the 90s.
Was it a dream?


On the b-side; a drawing by French artist Rebecca Bournigault is etched.

With »Roto«, Derek Piotr revisits the aqueous terrain first explored in his 2016 album »Drono«, where the paradox of water’s stillness and perpetual motion was refracted into looping voices and glitching textures. Conceived as a »spiritual successor« and recorded in 2019, the album has lain dormant for six years before surfacing on Discreet Archive. That stretch of silence seems to have deepened its charge – the sound feels unearthed rather than made, like a whirlpool biding its time in obscurity until now.

Unlike »Drono«’s mosaic of shorter pieces, »Roto« unfurls as two expansive half-hour tracks, allowing Piotr to probe repetition with greater intensity. Vowels accumulate until they shimmer with alien sentience, drones grow dense and psychoacoustic, and the smallest digital artifacts flicker like neural sparks. The result is a work that denies familiarity; recurrence here only breeds strangeness, unspooling into a procession of hidden pulses and altered voices that resist prediction, drawing the listener deeper into a submerged, otherworldly space.

Derek Piotr is a folklorist, researcher and performer whose work focuses primarily on the human voice. His work covers practices including fieldwork, vocal performance, preservation and autoethnography; and is primarily concerned with tenderness, fragility, beauty and brutality. He has collaborated with artists including Scott Solter, Nathan Salsburg and Thomas Brinkmann across various disciplines.

He is lead archivist and creative director of the Fieldwork Archive.

LTD. CLEAR BLUE VINYL

New York painter and musician exploratory industrialist Tor Lundvall initially envisioned his 14th album, Beautiful Illusions, as an entirely instrumental affair, "inspired by memories of sitting in a church or cathedral watching the shifting sunlight through stained glass." Although he ultimately chose to wreath the majority of the tracks with hushed, poetic vocals, his original muse still resonates. These are certainly songs of shadowplay and vaulted skies, the quiet grandeur of dusk deepening on the horizon. Lundvall characterizes the lyrical subject matter, too, in ways both specific and surreal, exploring "the doubts, the anxieties and even the bleak fantasies the mind spirals into during moments of isolation, separation and distance." Tricks of the eye, mind, and ear, magnified by silence and the looming long winter. Shivering pulses and muted bass lines tread the twilight while icicle synths and wiry guitar map the melody until the voice enters, narrating oblique moods of essence and absence, tenderness and truth. Glimpses of dark humor flicker in the wordplay but the greater sonic landscape is one of falling leaves and failing light, small gestures rendered as revelation, cloaked in reverb and spatial fog. Lundvall's mastery of nuance and negative space continues to heighten, whispered brushstrokes of the invisible and the unsaid, what lies beneath and what lies beyond: "Behind the shields and false fronts is usually a sadness. The heartbreaking reflections of what might have been."

"High urgency music with a very personal expression of the artist: in one way or another", this has always been the important or maybe even the core factor of every Cortizona release so far.

So it was just a matter of time until DJ Marcelle/Another Nice Mess, longtime fan of The Fall and Jiskefet, topnotch producer, dj wizard with three turntables (and a lovely person in general) - and myself - would collaborate towards a Cortizona release.

I guess the initial idea of working together with DJ Marcelle/Another Nice Mess dates back to 2019. One day she called me four times in five minutes just to hear Mark E. Smith's voice message on my phone. Since then there has been no going back. I mean: what's not to love about her?

Some time ago, she sent me the digital files of her new LP 'Sorry, No Service'. One of the tracks, 'Sorry, No Silence', features the Nan Goldin sample: 'this is clearly ethnic cleansing', taken from Goldin's impressive speech to which the audience cheered in support at the opening of her exhibition at the Neue Nationalgallerie in Berlin end of 2024.
Two weeks later Marcelle contacted me again: her German label refused to release the track. This was the moment we had both been waiting for: at last Cortizona and Marcelle would work together!

The album is due to be released later this year, but, with things as they are in Gaza, it is important to issue 'Sorry, No Silence' as a stand-alone track as soon as possible.
Talking about urgency!

'Sorry, No Silence' resonates feelings of global despair over the genocide in Gaza and the moraland political bankruptcy of 'western values'. It does so over a repetitive, militant tribal beat, complete with heavy basslines. The spirits of Mark Stewart, On-U Sound and Muslimgauze loom over the track, but as is always the case with Marcelle, both on stage and in the studio: she has an authentic style of her own, where playfulness meets courage and - also in this case - anger meets rhythm.

'Sorry, No Silence' is a track I didn't know I was waiting for. A track reflecting the sign of the times. The 12'' also features an even more heavy (and faster) dub version and the avant garde track 'Never Again Means', featuring more Nan Goldin samples: 'never again means never again for everyone'.
For obvious reasons the proceeds of this 12 inch and the digital Bandcamp release will be donated to PCRF, Palestine Children's Relief Fund.

Support more than welcome.


(written by Philippe Cortens)

Carrying on from recent archival releases from masters of Indian classical tradition such as Kamalesh Maitra and the Dagar Brothers, Black Truffle is pleased to present a previously unheard recording of a concert by Pakistani vocalist Salamat Ali Khan. Born to a musician family in Hoshiarpur in the northwestern state of Punjab, Khan moved with his family to Lahore in Pakistan after the 1947 partition of India, becoming a child musical prodigy. Khan was a master of the kyhal form of Hindustani classical vocal music, a style integrating influences from Middle Eastern musical traditions that gives the singer a great deal of improvisational freedom. Travelling widely across the globe from the 1960s until his death in 2001, Khan approached ragas performed in the kyhal style as expressive forums for risk-taking improvisation, enlivened by ceaseless ornamental invention.

This remarkable recording was captured by Michael Hönig (of krautrock legends Agitation Free) in concert at Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie as part of the MetaMusik festival in 1974 (which also featured Nico, Tangerine Dream, and Roberto Laneri’s Prima Materia, among many others). Khan, who is also heard accompanying himself on a specially tuned alpine zither (in place of the traditional swarmandal, an Indian style of zither), is joined by Shaukat Hussein Khan on tabla and Hussein Bux Khan on harmonium. The lack of a familiar underlying tanpura drone gives this performance a weightless, floating quality, with all three of the musicians playing masterfully with the interaction between silence and the pulse propelling each section of the raag.

As Khan explains in his opening remarks, this performance of the rainy season Raag Megh is divided into three parts, each with its own tempo and rhythmic scheme (tala). The opening vilambit, in a twelve-beat tala, stretches out for over twenty minutes, lingering for a long time in a space of meditative calm, Khan lightly strumming the zither while exploring the lower end of his range in languorously extended notes. Virtuoso tabla interjections at first barely state the tempo, and the interplay between musicians is so spacious that we hear scraps of audience noise and the squeak of the harmonium’s mechanism in between the notes. Gradually picking up rhythmic definition and melodic complexity, after around fifteen minutes the music builds dramatically, with Khan letting out emotive yelps and swooping scalar shapes ranging across his full vocal range. This flows seamlessly into the following jhaptal, at a faster tempo in ten beats, which then makes way for the concluding teental, very fast in sixteen beats, which becomes a frantic improvisational exchange of daring rhythmic disruptions from the tabla, flowing harmonium melodies, and a stunning variety of vocal approaches from Khan, ranging from rapid-fire staccato consonants to guttural growls.

Accompanied by stunning black and white concert photographs, the LP also contains a moving and entertaining recollection from acclaimed German musicologist Peter Pannke, looking back on his experience assisting Khan and his musicians in Berlin at the Metamusik festival (including a mouth-watering description of a feast cooked by the maestro himself). As Pannke describes in his account of attending the concert, the beauty and spiritual intensity of this music leaves the listener speechless.

It's 2022. The world lockdown is finally over. Imagine a picturesque lake in Tuscany. Now imagine a floating state of the art studio on that lake with two maverick rock icons creating a wild, alchemical concept album: Hugo Race, frontman of Australian post-punk legends The Wreckery and guitarist for the Bad Seeds and leader of True Spirit and Fatalists, and Gianni 'Marok' Maroccolo, producer of Italian alternative music and film soundtracks since the 1980s Florence darkwave scene with Litfiba, CSI & CCCP. Together, they fuse an existential narrative made up of individual stories in the style of Boccaccio's Decameron with psychedelic soundscapes framed by experimental electronica, rock instrumentation and decades of experience as cutting edge musicians and studio producers to bring you an album that defies categorization - The Vigil… "We all knew the situation was inauspicious, the planets lined up overhead like a firing squad and this empty silence roaming around our town, cut off from the other mountain towns by an electrical blackout. Without power, there was no way of knowing what was happening anywhere else. Left alone with our thoughts until help came from outside, a group of us gathered around a blazing fire in the abandoned city hall, feeding it with documents and broken furniture. Scientific progress had long told us we were parcels of dumb atoms and that consciousness and the soul were merely human projections. Now science had failed itself..."

The compositions of Miłosz Kędra (b. 2001) explore synthetic sound, electroacoustic music, and self-built acoustic instruments, seeking diverse timbres, tunings, and textures. His main field of work is the pipe organ. Through minimalist motifs, he has transported the instrument’s sound beyond the church space by synthetically processing its tones. He is currently pursuing a Master’s degree in New Media Music at the Academy of Music in Poznań and recently completed a Bachelor’s degree in Electroacoustic Composition, during which he built his own pipe organ from scavenged pipes.

~ Liner notes ~

Miłosz Kędra - "their internal diapasons"

The pipes that Miłosz Kędra used to craft his own organ emulator have lived many lives. They come from churches scattered across Greater Poland—some trimmed for a more presentable façade, others left to gather dust in parish houses until, stripped of purpose, they were cast away. Their first voices have faded, their inner resonance unsettled, yet with patience, one can teach them to sound again—to sing in their altered state, to be gently coaxed out of silence.

Audiomancy—the conjuring of lost sounds—is the word that lingers when I try to grasp the lore crystallizing with Kędra’s second album.

The resolve with which the musician and composer has inhabited his self-built instrument recalls Witold Szalonek and his search for “unexploited properties of wind instruments in classical music.” Szalonek sought to map these hidden voices into a system of multiphonics, revealing over 160 on the oboe alone by 1968. Some sound eerily alike, yet emerge through distinct gestures—“a particular breath, a precise choreography of levers and apertures, the seamless fusion of the two.”

The splitting of a single note into its spectral fragments—allowing a melodic instrument to speak in two, three, even four voices at once—enabled Szalonek to bend the rigid structures of Western music. "their internal diapasons" follows a similar path: an aesthetic bypass through which Kędra taps into the sacred gravity of the church organ, only to reveal it as a domesticated echo of something far older—the primal theater of transformation. To listen closely to an instrument is to learn its flaws, to turn its imperfections into a new way of speaking.

Each of the nine compositions on "their Internal diapasons" is an invitation—to approach the material world with the intent of letting it speak beyond expectation. An instrument that is at once a sculpture, a performance, and a manifesto of voicing the discarded suggests that its creator—following the path of Didier Eribon (Returning to Reims)—might take as his motto, a principle of asceticism, Sartre’s words: “What matters is not what is made of us, but what we ourselves make of what is made of us.”

Filip Szałasek

The iconic Hôtel Costes music collection, a veritable benchmark of Parisian luxury and refinement, continues to captivate lovers of sophisticated sounds. Famous for its unique blends of warm vocals, funk, jazzy and pop grooves, fusing electronic sounds and acoustic instruments, this series is a must for connoisseurs of refined music.



This seventh volume, orchestrated by the talented Stéphane Pompougnac, offers light electro soul and racy house, perfect for livening up the most elegant evenings and keeping the most reluctant dancing until the wee hours. The Hôtel Costes series has revealed exceptional talents such as Pink Martini, Flight Facilities, General Elektriks, Angus & Julia Stone and Brigitte, while mixing hidden nuggets with masters such as Gotan Project, Femi Kuti, Trentemøller, Thievery Corporation, Shirley Bassey and Grace Jones.



With over 5 million copies sold worldwide, following the resounding success of the reissue of the first six volumes, this seventh opus is finally available for the first time on vinyl. A true gem that will delight long-time fans and appeal to a new generation of listeners worldwide.

- Also available on black vinyl - First ever official reissue - Produced in full cooperation with Hiroshi Yoshimura's estate - Liner notes by contemporary music writer and professor Junichi Konuma - Remastered from original sources by John Baldwin - First time on vinyl, cassette, and streaming - 2xLP vinyl housed in gatefold jacket - Discs cut at 45 rpm for optimal sound quality // Following their 2024 reissue of Hiroshi Yoshimura's classic album, Surround, Temporal Drift proudly presents the first-ever reissue of FLORA, Yoshimura's underappreciated ambient classic. FLORA was originally recorded and completed in 1987, and remained unreleased until 2006, nearly three years after Yoshimura's passing in 2003. The album is chronologically and stylistically a follow-up to his acclaimed 1986 works GREEN and SURROUND, wherein Yoshimura continues to play with the ambience of sound and the sound of ambience, underscoring his mastery in the field of environmental music. Yoshimura's other recorded works include Music For Nine Post Cards (1982), originally produced to be played back inside a museum space, and Pier & Loft (1983), commissioned as accompaniment to a contemporary fashion show.

- LITA Exclusive pressed on Sky Blue colored vinyl - First ever official reissue - Produced in full cooperation with Hiroshi Yoshimura's estate - Liner notes by contemporary music writer and professor Junichi Konuma - Remastered from original sources by John Baldwin - First time on vinyl, cassette, and streaming - 2xLP vinyl housed in gatefold jacket - Discs cut at 45 rpm for optimal sound quality // Following their 2024 reissue of Hiroshi Yoshimura's classic album, Surround, Temporal Drift proudly presents the first-ever reissue of FLORA, Yoshimura's underappreciated ambient classic. FLORA was originally recorded and completed in 1987, and remained unreleased until 2006, nearly three years after Yoshimura's passing in 2003. The album is chronologically and stylistically a follow-up to his acclaimed 1986 works GREEN and SURROUND, wherein Yoshimura continues to play with the ambience of sound and the sound of ambience, underscoring his mastery in the field of environmental music. Yoshimura's other recorded works include Music For Nine Post Cards (1982), originally produced to be played back inside a museum space, and Pier & Loft (1983), commissioned as accompaniment to a contemporary fashion show.

- Also available on black vinyl - First ever official reissue - Produced in full cooperation with Hiroshi Yoshimura's estate - Liner notes by contemporary music writer and professor Junichi Konuma - Remastered from original sources by John Baldwin - First time on vinyl, cassette, and streaming - 2xLP vinyl housed in gatefold jacket - Discs cut at 45 rpm for optimal sound quality // Following their 2024 reissue of Hiroshi Yoshimura's classic album, Surround, Temporal Drift proudly presents the first-ever reissue of FLORA, Yoshimura's underappreciated ambient classic. FLORA was originally recorded and completed in 1987, and remained unreleased until 2006, nearly three years after Yoshimura's passing in 2003. The album is chronologically and stylistically a follow-up to his acclaimed 1986 works GREEN and SURROUND, wherein Yoshimura continues to play with the ambience of sound and the sound of ambience, underscoring his mastery in the field of environmental music. Yoshimura's other recorded works include Music For Nine Post Cards (1982), originally produced to be played back inside a museum space, and Pier & Loft (1983), commissioned as accompaniment to a contemporary fashion show.

In 2017, Matthias launched his record label named Superluminal, after the astronomic motion observed in 1902 by Jacobus Kapteyn in the ejecta of the nova GK Persei, which had exploded in 1901. His discovery was published in the German journal Astronomische Nachrichten, and received little attention from English-speaking astronomers until many decades later. It appears to travel faster than light, its existence could conceal the most inexplicable mysteries of our universe which gave birth to many of the secrets hidden in the path of mysticism and esotericism.

The label celebrates its 8th Anniversary with Matthias’s first self-released album. The instalment pays homage to the roots and influences the artist has genuinely embraced throughout the years. An immersive composition which summons a line from the sounds of the past to the present, designed meticulously and displayed within gatefold cover.

It certainly manifests a polyhedral vein with some very cerebral, experimental songs among more dancefloor oriented music. The artist delves into a self exploratory leap of synth-driving notes, striking chords of late decaying dub pianos. Certainly a journey that pairs conceptual alignment with more clubby-essential, stripped-down recordings.

The song’s progression evokes atmospheres from the far out worlds, carved into a space-echoing psychedelic trip with sinister tribal-percussive rhythm. The song’s arrangements are simple-complex drum’s versatile patterns, forged and elegantly blended into cinematic soundscapes.

This is a one way ride to the forest of mysteries, from which, there is no return. The time of the day between dusk and night, when it gets dark.

Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.

'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.

'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.

It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.

Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.

Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.

Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.

An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.

Not Waving, But Drowning



A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.



Here's some poetry.



Honestly I need them.

I hate them but I grieve them

I think I've finally found the reason

Trust

Like the fire needs the air.

I won't burn unless you're there.





'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.



It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.



Here's some poetry.



Don't hold any memories of us

Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust

Yo we only caught the train

Cos you know I hate the bus





A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.



More poetry.



When the going is tough

I wait till it falls on deaf ears

Hearsay

Without the boundaries of love



He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.



Yes, poetry.



I'm still looking for the answers

Trying to find the right questions

Still waiting for my fathers

But can't break them in to sections



This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.





Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.



An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.

And here's some poetry from mum.



We talked long in to the darkest hours

Until we saw the burnished sky

And our eyes stung

As our words blurred and became thoughts

As we were silenced by the dawn

We clung to each other like sailors in a storm

'When the Lamb opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour. And I saw the seven angels who stand before God, and seven trumpets were given to them’’ heres the children of the pope

We wanted to discard the unimportant.

Songs about life and the living and songs about death and the dead.

Songs about God and the heavenly, songs about hell and the unholy.

Sounds of youthful wonder and the melancholy of time.

Love and hate and the opposites of the the great untold, in extreme, melted together in a boundless pot of sweet surrealist molasses.

The all, through the unmodified eye.

Recording the album was an against the clock under pressure process that turned out very fruitful.

We tracked 12 tracks in 5 days in the dead of witner 2022Snow and ice and trying to explore the depths of our minds in a dim lit room, trying to put surrealism to tape.

Everyhting was was recorded on 2 inch reel to reel in live takes (appart from few overdubs also recorded onto tape)

We did not turn any computer on until the mixing process

Flame is Slow collects together three acclaimed seven-inch EPs (originally released on the Noisebox label in 1996 and 1997) by the mysterious, mercurial Navigator. The post-Loveless UK underground of the early 1990s was a vibrant place, despite what music biographies may tell you. What might now be lumped together as “post-rock” was in fact a varied and forward-thinking group of artists creating inquisitive music in the wake of the grunge goldrush. Contemporaries such as Hood, Flying Saucer Attack, Movietone and – of course – Mogwai and Arab Strap are rightfully seen as timeless nearly thirty years on but they’re really just the tip of the iceberg. Navigator might get mentioned less but their story is every bit as intriguing as any of their peers. Navigator formed in Norwich in 1994. Their music was consistently introspective and melancholic, but their brief existence of five years saw them move rapidly from traditional song structures towards noise, found sound, free improvisation, electronics, primitive instrument building and – ultimately - silence. They were an enigma back then and they remain so now. They released four seven inches before a solitary album Nostalgie (1997, Swarf Finger Records). Each release felt different to the last but always intimate and peculiar. Their use of sound and space is nothing short of magical. Rough and unsettling textures rub against each other, selected and mixed instinctively. Another band’s discarded mistake becomes a key element in their hands. The band received much acclaim and some genuine commercial success when single When the Wires Fall ended up in the indie charts. They shared stages with Low, David Thomas, Aerial M, Stars Of The Lid and Labradford and toured with Mogwai and Arab Strap culminating in the now-notorious, equipment-levelling performance at The Garage in London. The original version of the group played live for the last time in 1999 before quietly disappearing. It was perhaps inevitable that a band so committed to exploring and refining their sound should end by removing themselves from it entirely. Aside from a brief (and excellent) reformation in 2006 and a CDR compilation of those early seven inches, Navigator have been quiet for over 20 years until now. Flame is Slow assembles the blue, red and green Noisebox EPs into one cohesive album-length collection, remastered with care and reassembled by the band. It rightfully places Navigator where they belong – as one of the most curious, adventurous, and beautiful groups this island has ever produced. “Whenever I think of bands that more people should’ve heard than did, I always think about Navigator. It’s great that the music they made is going to be available again as it is truly special and deserves to be heard by more people” – Stuart Braithwaite

Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time is a portal into somatic chiaroscuro, aglow with the embers of imperfect memories and smudged with the plumes of internal echoes, which augment in vast, mercurial dimensions. For his third album on RVNG Intl., the British cellist, composer and producer offers a capsule of personal resonance and remembrance, assembled over the past six years. Throb, shiver, arrow of time traces the familiar metallic anatomy and viscous string modulations of his 2020 release skins n slime, while recentering his inner compulsions following a procession of lauded score writing projects, including the films Aftersun (Charlotte Wells, 2022), The Stranger (Thomas M Wright, 2022) and Occupied City (Steve McQueen, 2023). While working on Aftersun, Wells asked Coates how music could signal that someone is going on a trawl through their memory_a question that has stayed with him ever since and fosters a heartbeat running through the record. Throb, shiver, arrow of time is "all about inaccurate transmissions from our memories, overlaid with emotions from other sources," says Coates. The release is imbued with the ache and glow of recollections mulched together, where the guttural dissonance of misremembering is shrouded by strange orbs of sentiment. At the record's inner core is "Shopping centre curfew," a swift yet cavernous track that emerged five years ago when two real world events, both occurring in South London during the pandemic lockdowns, became fused in a dream: the demolition of Elephant and Castle shopping center, and the discussion of a curfew as a real possibility for all men following a violent crime. A strange simultaneity occurred with this piece of music and Coates built the album out from there, a sense of temporal entropy refracting shimmers of lurking convulsions into lucid sonic topologies. The ten compositions of Throb, shiver, arrow of time find weightless melodies soaring across after-image gradients, magnified and compressed. Misted tones within "Please be normal" and "90" soften drone-soaked shudders of inner acoustics messing up. Vocal invocations appear from long-term collaborators Malibu and chrysanthemum bear, as well as drifting synth radiance from Faten Kanaan. Throb, shiver, arrow of time furthers Coates' reach in collapsing the digital into the analogue and vice versa, allowing serendipity to reorganize the material and push out against the confines of flatness. This sculptural approach to sound is deeply influenced by the intricate installations of artist Sarah Sze, whose permutations of visual matter with its own after-image form kaleidoscopic epitaphs for ephemera and emotion. Coates' thinking about Sze's work and processes flowed together with his own playing and editing techniques, superimposing the textural relief of a live take back into a composition, and allowing the sound to succumb to a dream of itself. As Coates expands, "The cello is a kind of melancholic instrument with a light ethereal spirit. When the sound is flattened into digital processes, with shifted frequencies and time stretching I'm trying to give it even more of those qualities. Sometimes I'm distancing myself from it, so it becomes a piece of discarded debris that has soul in it, a down-sampling. Or other times, it's trying to maximize the present tense in the act of playing, and collapse that vivid color into a burnished, photocopied kind of sound. So the music acts like weather, weathering the listener, or as flames licking at the sides of objects." As the record unfurls, the compositions swell in duration, until the granular glimmers of its finale "Make it happen" persist in almost violent delight. "There's a feeling of not wanting to let this album go, trying to defy the extinguishing sound at the end of the music, trying to push the colors beyond the confines of the structure, to defeat the silence." In the scramble to resist denouement, Coates suspends the arrow of time in its eternal flight, just for a moment, to reveal the solace of the dust settling in the afterglow. Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time will be released on vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on October 18, 2024. On behalf of Oliver and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit The Traditional Music and Song Association of Scotland, an organization fostering opportunities for people of all ages to participate in the traditional music and culture of Scotland.

Since its foundation in 2010, the newcomer quintet has brought a breath of fresh air to the scene and fans as well as the specialized press with their melange of crunchy guitars, driving drums and orchestral bombast. and orchestral bombast: the very young five-piece was was already highly praised by renowned magazines such as magazines such as Orkus and Sonic Seducer and even dubbed "heroes of tomorrow" by Metal Hammer. of tomorrow".

The debut album "Until Dawn", which was released in 2018, impressively underlined the potential that lies within the band. The official music video for the track "Born From Hope" has over over 1.3 million views to date, and the song has been streamed well over 2.5 million streams on Spotify.

Now the song, as well as all the others of the album, will be released on vinyl for the first time. REAPER ENTERTAINMENT presents the multicolored vinyl in a gatefold, strictly limited to 300 copies worldwide.