Bill Withers was a modest, gentle, and yet towering musical figure responsible for some of the most important, universally known soul hits ever written. It’s no wonder that “Just the Two of Us” and “Ain’t No Sunshine” won him two Grammy awards and undoubtedly played a huge role in getting him inducted into both the Songwriters and Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Naked & Warm is Withers' fifth studio album, released in 1976. A year earlier, the Sussex label—home to Bill's first four landmark albums—ceased operations. Withers then signed with the mighty Columbia Records, which would remain his home until the end of his recording career. While Naked & Warm retains Bill's unique, earthy approach to soul that made him Sussex's biggest star, it's clear that musically too, he was in transition; the first half of the album is full of synthesized jazz-funk vamps, while "City Of The Angels" is an almost 11 minutes long cosmic funk excursion combining biting Rhodes chords with swirling synth pads and Dorothy Ashby's spiritual harp work. All in all, Naked & Warm might be one of Bill's most underrated records, simply because his previous work for Sussex was just that impactful.
Naked & Warm is available as a 50th anniversary edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on blue vinyl and includes a 4-page booklet featuring lyrics and new liner notes written by Marcia Withers.
Often credited as the father of multi-media theatre, Alwin Nikolais (1910-1993) took complete creative control over his productions - including cutting-edge approaches to lighting and costume that transformed human bodies into shifting sculptural shapes, while also composing wildly innovative electro-acoustic and synth-based audio as accompaniment.
After initially experimenting with musique concrète and tape manipulation (as demonstrated on the 1959 LP Choreosonic Music of the New Dance Theatre of Alwin Nikolais) Nikolais became the first owner of Robert Moog's synthesizer at the Audio Engineering Society convention in New York in late 1964. Relying heavily on the Moog and later the Synclavier synth/sampler, these 21 tracks document Nikolais' highly-prescient compositions across the mid 1960s through to the late 1980s - existing not only as extensions of his other-worldly choreographic productions, but standalone pieces of foundational mid-century American electronic and experimental music.
"Born in Southington, Connecticut in 1910, Nikolais’s early years and early career were in acting, music and puppetry. It was not until the late 1930s that he began his work as dancer/choreographer in Hartford, Connecticut, where he was commissioned by the Avery Memorial Theatre, a part of the Wadsworth Atheneum, to create an evening-length work to the music of Ernst Krenek. Previously his work and study as a pianist-organist found him accompanying silent films. This sort of accompaniment required from the musician not only a playing skill but also a versatility in improvisation, matching movement to sound, and evoking mood to situation.
Nik was drawn initially to dance by his involvement with the percussion scores used by the illustrious early twentieth century German dancer Mary Wigman. In trying to learn more about percussion, he was lured into dance class and thus his career began. His development of music and dance occurred simultaneously. His introduction to the twelve-tone technique opened his mind to the expanding areas of atonal music, and his dealing with music as sound per se. In 1948, after being appointed director of the Henry Street Playhouse in New York, Nikolais formed the Playhouse Dance Company, later known as the Nikolais Dance Theater, and began his aesthetic orientation toward dance as a study of motion. By the 1950s, he had ceased creating literal dances and began his explorations and eventual milieu as an abstractionist.
Sound became an important part of his abstract theatre. For his first dances, which involved his new thinking of dance as both a visual and kinetic art, he used live percussion scores in which he directed his dancers to play instruments of all nature. There was a combination of children’s toy instruments as well as harsh and resonant automobile brake drums, and other pitched auto parts which he also used to accompany classes. Once he installed his own tape recording machines, he quickly used the limited range these instruments provided in a new way, slowing and increasing speed and reversing sound. He also made the sounds adhere to the choreographic structure (not the other way around), thereby giving the dance its independence from the musical phrasing. But the real need remained: the search for new sound. Nik made a sound library, recording noises and percussion and vocal sounds, which the French aptly called musique concrète. Needless to say, he became a master at splicing bits and pieces.
From 1956 to 1962 Nikolais composed eleven major scores for his theatre pieces using such techniques. In 1963, James Seawright, who at the time was assisting Nik in his productions and also working at the Columbia-Princeton Center for Electronic Music, recorded a sound bank for the production Imago (1963). With this material, Nikolais created his first synthesizer score. Imago won the Paris Grand Prix in 1968 and launched the Nikolais Dance Theatre towards its national and primarily international acclaim.
During the same period, Seawright came to Nik and told him of a young man who had invented and constructed a simplified synthesizer and insisted that Nik visit the electronic fair currently being held in New York. Nik did so and met Robert Moog. He was completely taken by the new machine and after making some suggestions to Moog, (which Moog made), Nik bought the inventor’s first machine with the aid of a Guggenheim Fellowship. Moog himself was astonished by what his machine could produce for Nik. This machine was later acquired by the Museum of Musical Instruments at the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor as the first Moog synthesizer. The Synclavier was Nik’s next source of sound and since the mid-1970s remained the major instrument in the Nikolais soundroom.
Alwin Nikolais has been honored and awarded throughout the world. He has received the French Legion of Honor, the Kennedy Center Honors, National Medal of the Arts, two Guggenheim Fellowships, as well as Mellon, Ford, and Rockefeller grants. He has been a recipient of NEA grants since 1966, been awarded five honorary doctorates, all for his remarkable achievements in Dance Theater. His genius has influenced several generations of artists."
—Murray Louis
Another long-awaited vinyl shaped through time, pressure, and careful listening. On this record, Spinnski, Ian Oskadev, and CLGR each bring the maximum of their craft, pushing their sound until it holds up under the toughest real-world testing. Airy textures, rolling low-end, sharp rhythmic structure, and hypnotic elements come together into a sound that feels both controlled and alive. Every detail has been checked, adjusted, and refined with precision — not just for the studio, but for real systems. This is a record that translates everywhere, from small rooms to large dancefloors. VAM14 stands as another carefully built piece in the catalogue — balanced, warm, and fully functional. A release shaped with attention, experience, and respect for the sound.
Kashatskikh Studio Mastering
Design & Illustration by Kirill Kashatskikh
Sublunar, the label founded by Sciahri, is proud to present the debut EP of Australian artist Connor Wall with Equals. Known for his releases on Phorum and Moving Pressure, Connor Wall is one of those artists capable of crafting a deeply personal and hypnotic sound, where each track unfolds as a journey of its own.
The EP opens with Oak, a minimal yet driving and atmospheric piece, before moving into Invert, a powerful track built around a unique and relentless escalation of tension. On the B-side, Equals sets the tone with growing intensity and hypnotic vocals that carry a story meant to be experienced until the very end. Construct follows with darker, more obscure vibes, delivering a deeply hypnotic and mental atmosphere, before the EP concludes with The End, a truly mystical journey that captures the essence of an artist able to transform sound into narrative.
Devo Marries Gritty Guitars with Expansive Keyboard Canvasses on Duty Now for the Future:
Transitional Album Furthers the Band’s Satirical Stance, Includes Cover of “Secret Agent Man”
Hear the 1979 Record in Audiophile-Grade Sound and at 45RPM for the First Time:
Mobile Fidelity’s Numbered-Edition 180g 45RPM 2LP Set
Benefits from Enhanced Definition and Presence
1/4” / 15 IPS Dolby A analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe
“Pop music needs a big enema.” Devo created Duty Now for the Future with that mission statement, relayed to the press by co-founding bassist/vocalist Gerald Casale, in mind. Though unfairly pegged by some as an example of the common sophomore slump, the record spurred the group’s interest in electronic instrumentation, extended its penchant for biting social satire, and contained another transformative cover song in the form of “Secret Agent Man.” Above all, the 1979 work proved the Ohio pranksters were anything but a joke even if they would have to wait one more year until for their mainstream breakthrough.
Sourced from the original master tapes, mastered by engineer Krieg Wunderlich, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity's numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Duty Now for the Future in audiophile-grade sound. Benefitting from the extra groove space on this first-ever 45RPM version, it plays with enhanced definition, deep-black backgrounds, and ultra-quiet surfaces.
Though certain band members later expressed regret with some of his decisions, the merits of Ken Scott’s production emerge like never before. A lurking edginess serves as a signpost in Devo’s progression before it fully embraced keyboards as a primary tool. Guitars possess punch and grit and, along with the crisp arrangements, are sharpened with an ear toward accuracy and vibrancy. It all helps give Duty Now for the Future a direct immediacy that answers the complaints of listeners who felt the affair too processed or sterilized.
Notably, a majority of the material here stems from the same grab bag of songs Devo banked before Warner Bros. signed it to a deal. The album marks a capstone to Phase One of a career that for all intents and purposes began in 1973. And just like many of the group’s performances of that era, Duty Now for the Future remains just as famous for the critical disdain it inspired as the music itself. A vicious review in Rolling Stone — the very publication that a few decades later would trumpet the band as one of the most important of its age — ended with the writer offering to send readers shards of the LP he planned on smashing to bits.
Perhaps he just needed to experience this new-wave effort with the restored sound that makes everything now feel so explosive and urgent. Whatever the case, the songs hold up and, amid a contemporary period which gives increasing license to artificial intelligence and behemoth conglomerates, seem more apt than ever before.
Consider “Blockhead,” which skewers the predictable appearances and numb-to-the-world actions of a rule follower. Or the similarly themed “Clockout,” an uptempo ditty whose thumbing-its-nose bravado and sardonic lyrics send up corporate culture with an irresistible smirk. As for the wiry, hard-hitting urgency of “Wiggly World” and Mark Mothersbaugh’s loud declaration that “They say the fittest shall survive/Yet the unfit may live”: Evidence these art-school rabble-rousers still had some punk fury to flush out of their system. And the sincere allure of the charged power pop and wishful circumstances of “The Day My Baby Gave Me a Surprize” cannot be denied.
To point to an interesting bit of history that makes Duty Now for the Future all the more intriguing, particularly for the most committed Spuds, more than half its tracks were selected for Greatest Misses — a 1990 anthology that celebrates lesser-known cuts and functions as a rejoinder to a hits compilation from the same year. (The only track from the 1979 album to make the “hits” disc: “Smart Patrol/Mr. DNA.”)
Indeed, tunes like the riff-driven albeit controversial “Pink Pussycat,” atmospherically twitching “S.I.B. (Swelling Itching Brain),” and ceremonial instrumental “Devo Corporate Anthem” may lack the catchy appeal and all-together coherence of what follows on the group’s third and most commercially successful effort, Freedom of Choice. Yet in order to get there, to de-evolve if you will, the band needed the smorgasbord that is Duty Now for the Future.
In 2023, Kraków-based composer Martyna Basta and Los Angeles-based sound artist claire rousay were invited to Poland by Unsound for a short residency, where they spent a few days trading ideas and concepts, and brainstorming their first collaboration. Initially motivated to create lengthy, expansive pieces together, they also ended up experimenting with shorter vignettes, and ‘hotel room’ expresses these two extremes, featuring three long-form tracks and three brief, euphoric songs. “It wasn’t something we specifically planned,” explains Basta. “It just unfolded that way.” The most important stage of the process, however, was the period that followed the residency, when rousay and Basta began working on their sketches in isolation, trading drafts and sculpting the sounds independently before rousay handled the final mixdown. In the comfort of their own bedrooms, they were better able to reflect their individual creative routines, organically reaching a junction where their music felt truly unified. Even while they were in Poland, the duo joked that it might have been easier if they’d been holed up in separate rooms emailing each other.
Both artists have had an energetic few years: after steadily building a reputation for her diaristic and candid concrète experiments, rousay signed to Thrill Jockey in 2023, releasing the acclaimed ‘sentiment’, ‘a little death’ and the more eaze collaboration ‘no floor’; Basta, meanwhile, followed up 2023’s hallucinatory ‘Slowly Forgetting, Barely Remembering’ and her debut for Belgium’s Stroom imprint, ‘Diaries Beneath Fragile Glass’ with a studio album on !K7’s 7K sublabel: ‘Winged in Collapse’. The title of their collaboration reflects rousay and Basta’s hectic touring schedules in the wake of these releases, the constant feeling of displacement and the emotions that emerge when the environment is in flux. “I know we aren’t the only musicians traveling and creating work at the same time,” says rousay, “but being able to speak about that experience and all the things that come with it was comforting.” And the music itself, assembled from hypnagogic field recordings, spectral voices, electronics and filtered instrumental improvisations, sounds bewitchingly unmoored, not tied to a specific location but hovering around the uncanny space in-between.
Scratchy ASMR sounds introduce us to the opening track ‘zoom’, initially obscuring the duo’s elegiac harmonies. They are careful to let the various elements evolve at their own pace, with the fictile guitar drones melting into the foreground while Basta’s dissociated whispers and rousay’s illusory synths pick out the subtlest subliminal shades. It all builds to the piece’s dramatic third act, when layered chords ring out like organ blasts, enveloping the negative space. The shorter, more anxiety-provoking ‘denim’ is remarkably divergent, a dismantled folk memory pieced together from skeletal piano notes, vaporous choral echoes, haunting string plucks and pulsating feedback. Where the music aligns is in the mood itself, capturing a feeling that’s neither completely abstract nor fully referential. Not ambient exactly, ‘hotel room’ is a suite of soundscapes that gesture towards structure while repeatedly folding in on themselves.
On ‘Lost and Found’, wordless Autotuned ad-libs spiral around delicate guitar plucks and washing waves, coalescing into a faded Polaroid of opiated Americana, and on ‘Where Are You Now’, operatic squeals and corroded orchestral scrapes are juxtaposed with nauseous low-end tones. Evaporating until only industrial whirrs and music box chimes remain, the latter encapsulates the entire album’s chilling liminality, smudging saturated voices with casual electro-acoustic interjections before it erupts abruptly, transforming into a dense, pitch-skewed hymn. ‘hotel room’ plays like a surreal travelogue, teasing listeners with airy familiarities as it humidifies dry, awkward spaces. More a labyrinth of catacombs than a single, fixed chamber, it’s Escher-like – cryptic and seductive – and decked out with personal asides and intimate details that reward the most patient, curious listeners.
Can’t go over it. Can’t go under it. Gotta go through it. And somewhere out there in the Pitch black beyond all darkness lies Peace & Purpose. The horizon you never quite crest until the inevitable end. Breathe deep — this fearful moment is the most alive you’re ever gonna feel. For the last decade, Crack Cloud’s vision has grown ever more expansive, more cinematic. Last go around, they dropped from The Heavens and then performed with their bare backs to an endless darkening desert. Now they’ve crammed all that life into some metallic and strange object called Peace & Purpose. All the terror of living. All the helplessness. All the raw human will. All glued and screwed and locked into this impossible tactile shape of dungeon dub; sour milk vox; Avant-protest music. Music arm wrestling itself to the ground. Far afield of beauty. The discordant symphony of factory farming and grim timber of the meat processing plant. The grinding din of the cogs. And yet, never giving up in spite of all good sense. Even in death, we are a coterie of survivors. Look now: There’s Terry Fox on his one-legged Marathon of Hope across The Great White North while cancer spreads through his lungs. A self-annihilating drive to feel alive. Rage against the dying of the light, they say. Well, how ‘bout it then!??! Peace & Purpose is not in any way some art project meditation on Punk Rock. It is Punk Rock. Terrifying, inspiring, vital, invigorating and most importantly, utterly unexpected. Every goddamn stupid day is a sublime slice of fresh hell. That’s the point. Gotta go through it. Wishing you Peace & Purpose — if only in that last big breath.
Professor Roth's debut EP, self-released on his newly formed label Maestro, is music that feels half remembered. Familiar enough to settle into, strange enough to keep shifting beneath your feet, it lives in that sweet spot where groove and abstraction lean into one another. Dusty textures, hazy melodies and understated rhythms never demand attention, yet quietly refuse to let go. Every track feels like another realm of the same dream: warm, weightless and just slightly out of focus.
‘Daydreaming’ is an inviting first step into the haze, opening the door without ever fully revealing what's on the other side. Gentle movement carries drifting melodies that seem to appear and disappear with every listen. An ethereal vocal breakdown creates the feeling of being quietly carried away from its hypnotic groove before pulling you back under its spell. Patient and understated, ‘The Way It Is’ lets the groove do the talking while subtle details gradually come into focus. Dubby percussive chaos is softened by warm, lifelike pads, encouraging your body to move while your mind wanders elsewhere.
As the name suggests, ‘Swells’ arrives in waves. Layers fold over one another, building and dissolving without urgency. There's a beautiful tension between motion and stillness, leaving the track suspended somewhere between the dancefloor and a reverie. ‘Shades’ is a fitting close that blurs the edges even further. Soft, hypnotic and quietly psychedelic, it feels less like an ending and more like waking up slowly. Content to linger in that in-between a little longer, glitchy samples drift through swirling soundscapes, keeping the dancefloor gently spun until the very end.
Constantly pushing his studio craft into unexplored realms, Pugilist returns to Samurai with a fresh clutch of innovative hybridised meditations transmitting from upper tempos. The versatility in Alex Dickson's approach is proven by the broad spectrum of labels he releases on — as comfortable shelling down for Shall Not Fade as he is tearing out on Rupture London. As the Melbourne / Naarm-based producer opens up the Triads EP with 'Rune', he hones in on a dynamic fusion of insistent technoid propulsion and brooding bass snarls with a mysterious portent. 'Pyre' swiftly turns up the percussive intensity with bludgeoning kicks and whipcrack snares that evoke classic electronica as much as D&B. For all the sharp attack of the drums, though, Dickson manages his ingredients with ruthless restraint, creating a fierce kind of meditation in the process. 'Woven' allows a rich variety of snaking synth lines to take centre stage as we tunnel into the second half of the EP, relishing the space for dynamic modulation and slowly evolving, cinematic pads that offer a glacial foil to the twitchy pace of the snappier elements in the mix. 'Machiavellian' plays the consummate closer in its lead in, playing a patient game in ritualistic drums before the herald of rave tropes rear up in some pronounced, choppy snare science. Yet again, Dickson opts for a softer approach where you might be expecting an explosive drop, allowing the skittering drums to roll on until they become a mesmerising texture in the track. In the end, it's an expert flourish demonstrating the energetic possibilities that lie in the spaces beyond more obvious peaks and troughs. Across four brilliantly original, highly advanced rollers, Pugilist nails the balance between subtlety and impact and proves himself a worthy advocate for the path less travelled.
Akio Nagase has been making dub-heavy club music in Osaka for decades. He started the Makedub parties in 1999 at Namba Rockets, mixing dub, acid house, techno and world music, and his first record was a theme for the night. Influenced by Andrew Weatherall, Sabres of Paradise and Basic Channel, he branched out with his debut in 2003, and though it became a classic among the heads, it never made it to vinyl until now. It's a record laced with soft acid and swirling melodies, psychedelic soundscapes and dusty low end shuffle all couched in endless delay and echo. Crank it up loud.
co:clear is blessed to share the latest offering of Leipzig-based artist, tibslc. Like many, we were introduced to her work through those two stunner long-players on Sferic at the turn of the decade. Five years have passed since then and her work continues to mesmerise – a string of accomplished self-releases have nestled themselves amongst contributions to STROOM.tv and SoundSupply_Service, to name but a few.
In the here and now, we are pleased to showcase ‘City of Something’ – 8 fragments of deluxe hi-fi ambient that further dissolves us in digital haze. Traversing through meticulous fragments of sound, tiblsc entices the listener to her synthetic dreamworld with an album of deep, euphonic electronics. Serene moments of singer-songwriting are sprinkled throughout and remind us of the artist’s delicate ability to captivate with her ethereal voice.
Artwork comes courtesy of Berlin-based artist, Margarita Maximova. Strictly limited to 250 copies of 12” wax and via most digital outlets. Out 29th May 2026.
Out on limited edition 12” vinyl & digital, 29th May 2026. Limited to 250 copies.
The 41st release on TECHNO Records marks a defining milestone: the first full- scale solo record by the label’s founder, Nastia, in her music career. It opens up a new depth of detail within the character and identity of both the artist and the catalogue.
Rather than making a loud statement, Nastia focuses on a restrained and functional approach to techno, shaped through subtle shifts in tension, texture, and rhythm. The tracks move with intention, avoiding obvious peaks in favour of gradual development and controlled energy—a familiar methodology and a direct analogy to the evolution of the label itself. Crafted with dancefloor energy in mind but not bound by it, the release offers a fresh perspective on the author’s persona, stripping away excess and overexplanation. It leaves ample room for the listener’s imagination and a versatile, expert application within a DJ set.
The trajectory of ascents and shifting attention in an artist’s career is the only honest path, providing material for reflection and the anchoring of values. This depth of experience cannot be replicated by overnight success or short-lived peaks—only decades of exploration, trial, and error can forge a work built to endure. Studio work becomes a new instrument for Nastia to build value capital, while her debut solo EP stands as an artefact marking a historic point for the author and the label.
TECH041
A1 “Indoctrinated” — a masterclass in rhythmic interplay used as a narrative device. It functions as a sonic manifesto: universally accessible yet distinctly individual. A process-driven track, its strength lies in its ability to repeatedly shift the listener’s focus. It serves as an ideal transitional tool, offering a calculated awakening from a hypnotic state.
A2 “Ignorance Is Keelleeng” — a structured dancefloor powerhouse built on a precise understanding of peak-time energy. Functioning as a set-defining anchor, it allows the DJ to pivot the mix in any direction without losing momentum. A true catalyst track that opens up new sonic horizons.
B1 “True Majority” — the most forward-thinking cut on the record, providing a definitive blueprint for the hypnotic techno sound of summer 2026. It presents a multi-layered, all-encompassing sonic tapestry that interacts with the listener while maintaining a strictly restrained narrative. A motif-driven track that subtly exposes an underlying tension.
B2 “Additive Integration” — best conceptualised within an extended set where the goal is to gradually establish the atmosphere and dictate the rules of the journey. A track built on anticipation, it conserves energy and conceals its inner mechanics until the final acts. It compels the listener to decode its sonic language for full comprehension.
Cloudy Pink / Cloudy Green 2XLP. Before being called “the coolest man in music” (The Line of Best Fit), Paul Castelluzzo was a teenager surfing the beaches of San Diego and playing bars with local jazz greats like Curtis Taylor, until Rodney Jerkins brought him to Los Angeles to perform on tracks for Britney Spears and Justin Bieber. In between driving for Lyft and serving as the music director for a Russian Pentecostal church to make ends meet, he was enlisted for Romeo Santos’ album, Golden, but soon returned home to begin his next chapter as Hether.
Since then, his self-taught guitar style, songwriting talents and profound production palette have led to him working with everyone from Clairo, Dominic Fike, Remi Wolf and The Marías to Paul McCartney, Anderson .Paak, Benny Blanco, Kali Uchis, Kenny Beats, Mac Miller, Rick Ross, Vince Staples and more who continue to discover Hether. Having already amassed millions of streams and hundreds of thousands of fans, landing music in HBO shows and scoring films, Holy Water marks both the culmination of everything Castelluzzo has experienced and accomplished, and an expansive new evolution of a project that has shaped the present and predicted the future, but remains entirely his own.
Extinction Burst! is the new invocation in album-form by Guttersnipe, Leeds’ premier and pre-eminent XFCER (XFCER: Xenofeminist crisis-energy rock)* duo. Slamming at full speed to multi-dimensional oblivion, Extinction Burst! is the most full, hidefinition lurid dream-mare yet spewed out by Uroceras Gigas & Tipula Confusa. Engineered and mixed by Ross Halden at Hohm Studio in Bradford and mastered by Rashad Becker, Extinction Burst! follows 2018’s My Mother The Vent, which garnered universal critical adoration. Nevertheless, this long-awaited follow up is more extreme: it is wildness beyond reason, splitting new tears in the reality gauze, ultimate hallucination through sound ecstasy. 2026’s Guttersnipe are evolved, mutated by 8 years of touring together and with the labyrinthine network of groups both Guttersnipe members are involved with - Tristwch Y Fenywod, Nape Neck, Petronn Sphene, Yexxen to name a few. On Extinction Burst!, as with previous material, the duo are heavily augmented with technology. Tipula Confusa's drum kit triggers chasm-causing synth pulses with thumping low end attack.. Strafing from all over the stereo field the constant shatter of the cymbals and toms feel like Sunny Murray or Rashied Ali in full flight during a John Coltrane session in 1967. Uroceras Gigas’s guitar + synth storm is by-now similarly an instantly recognised tool kit in underground music. Switching from screeching guitar atonality to intricate riffs from the black metal/Voivod hinterland to ultra-distorted synth meltdown, it’s an utterly overwhelming, essential and vital pouring-out of the full emotional spectrum. Both artists vocalise, ecstatic and primal, drawn out or yelped in pain or pleasure or panic. Alive On Tuesday begins with some of the only space on Extinction Burst! Digital crackles and tight-delays blow out into a fullthrottled death-dive into sweet opaqueness, offset by the duo’s vocals. There’s a popular believe that Guttersnipe is chaos, but over 9 mins here the group are clinical in their control of the simulated entropy. Mincing while the Maelstrom Churns’s guitar is modulated into jagged atonal atonement, duetting with the virtuoso drum patterns before it thuds into gear at quadruple the speed. Threads Of Radical Unaliveness veers close to the extreme Metal influences with blast beats and guttural vocalisations until the track exhausts itself into unaliveness. Keep Honking summons a demonic digital panic, with the duo reincarnating in real time as haunted versions of themselves, almost translating the lurid, ultra vivid, simultaneous hell+heaven of being alive in this dimension. Primordial Invagination harnesses No Wave’s dissension of normality before the structured collapse of Skra¨ckblandad Fo¨rtjusning, in which Tipula Confusa’s accelerating drums simulate a bouncing barrel of brimstone descending into a primordial gunky ooze, a respite in the middle before the record splutters to a stuttering finale, both members’ vocals out there in the neon realness, alive with crisis energy. There is nothing on this cursed earth like Guttersnipe. For over 10 years they have whirled in a wiggliness both woebegone and wonderstruck on a mission of radical mutant exaltation using rock music weaponry loaded with a queer hysterical ammunition to rupture the fabric of the known Rock universe and unleash a tendril-soft hallucinatory violence; thrumming with the bracing vividness of insect bodies, crazed with alien synaesthetic emotions, harnessing jagged excoriating illogic as a face meltingly snazzy affront to redundant macho mediocrity with the hope to break minds, squeeze hearts, explode pelvises and maybe even reset the parameters of reality. Addendum: xenofeminist : proposing and creating a world defined not only by sexual/gender equality, queer empowerment and the toppling of the racist heteropatriarchal hegemony and it’s tyranny of phallogocentric signifiers, but a philosophy of radical queerness that explodes the basic notion of embodied existence itself beyond even the human, where we see bacteria, invertebrates, reptiles, marine life, animalia in general, inanimate objects, quantum phenomena and as yet inarticulated bodies and minds as social and political equals that may inspire and inform our concepts of self, feeling and meaning as we labour to build a collective reality that doesn’t completely suck!! crisis energy : a term borrowed from the weird fiction author china mieville to describe a type of extreme concentration of power which emerges when a system or organism is pushed to it’s absolute limit; the point of rupture, chaos, entropic overload, just before it all breaks apart. rock : Rock ’n’ Roll, rock music, the devil’s music, sex, guitar, drums, voice, rhythm, riffs!
Luke Lund is a self-taught producer and sound artist from Finland. Over the past eighteen years, his work has absorbed influences ranging from the darkest fringes of club culture and the most caustic strains of industrial noise, to the subtlety of musique concrète and the rawness of rock.
It all started when he discovered that abstract sound design could stand as music in its own right, a revelation that ignited his enduring commitment to noise, sound art, dub techniques, and experimentation.
“Peel the Scab” emerges from this premise as a visceral and frenetic immersion into his “lo tech” facet, a term the artist himself employs to define the album’s style.
Allergic to programming, these are pure dub-blooded sessions pushed straight to tape, twisted until they yield under their own weight. It is a work constructed upon dense, disjointed rhythms: brutalist grime infused with a suffocating mutation of dub.
Seefeel sind mit ihrem ersten Album seit fünfzehn Jahren zurück – einer wunderschönen, verträumten und entrückten Sammlung fragmentierter Melodien und ätherischer Klangtexturen.
In gewisser Weise kann man dieses Album als Seefeels "Dub"-Album betrachten: Die täuschend wolkenartigen Arrangements von Mark Clifford wirken bei geringer Lautstärke fast wie Ambient, doch über eine gute Anlage kommen der wuchtige Bass und der gekonnte Einsatz von Effekten deutlicher zum Vorschein und verändern die Wahrnehmung von Zeit und Klangort. Wie immer bei Seefeel driftet das Album jedoch nie zu weit in kalten Experimentalismus oder synthetische Klangfarben ab. Der stark bearbeitete Gesang von Sarah Peacock verleiht den Stücken eine wichtige menschliche Note, während bearbeitete Gitarrenloops Melodiefragmente durch die Hallfahnen schweben lassen.
Da die Band lange Zeit als Schnittpunkt zwischen elektronischer Musik und experimenteller Gitarrenmusik wahrgenommen wurde, wurde sie während ihrer Anfangszeit oft übersehen, da ihre Musik keiner der beiden Szenen sofort zugeordnet werden konnte. Im Laufe der Jahre erwies sich diese Verschmelzung der Genregrenzen jedoch zunehmend als prophetisch für die zukünftige musikalische Entwicklung. Seefeel schufen sich einen Musikkatalog, der im Gegensatz zu manch anderen Bands nicht so schnell gealtert ist. Ihr Einfluss wird von einer neuen Generation von Künstlern wie Maria Somerville und Yu Su hervorgehoben, und 2026 melden sie sich mit "Sol.Hz" zurück, einer Sammlung neuer Tracks, die die Annahme bestärkt, dass Seefeels Zeit endlich gekommen ist.
"There is a suspicion that no one really knows how to deal with the legacy of the past." — Siarhiej Kraŭčanka
Malenčyk / Lami is a double vinyl release pairing previously unpublished archival recordings of Belarusian fiddler Stanisłaŭ Malenčyk with a response to that archive by Italian sound artist Giovanni Lami.
Stanisłaŭ Malenčyk (1928–2007) was a self-taught fiddler from a small village in Western Biełaruś, born on land that was then Polish territory. He never studied music formally and never worked on a collective farm — he supported his family solely through playing, crafting his own violins and harmonicas by hand. The music he played was made for a community: weddings, christenings, a room full of people, a shared life. As life shifted toward the cities and the village dissolved, that music lost the only place it could exist. By the end of his life, Malenčyk — nearly blind — was playing for whoever happened to be there: at the local bazaar, on district buses, moving through the aisles. He simply couldn’t stay home. He had to play.
These recordings were made by ethnographer Mykoła Kozienka in Ščučyn in 1999 and have not been released until now.
Giovanni Lami approaches this archive from a distance that could hardly be greater — geographical, cultural, temporal.
Credits:
Record 1 (Side A/B) — performed by Stanisłaŭ Malenčyk,
recorded by Mykola Kozenka in Shuchyn, Grodno Region, Belarus in 1999.
Record 2 (Side C/D) — produced by Giovanni Lami.
Mastering by Siarhej Cviki and Anton Aniščanka
Archival research by Alaksej Krukoŭski and Alaksandr Baroŭski
Cover Artworks by Volha Savič
Cover design by Ihar Jukhnievič
Project curation by Anton Aniščanka
Project assistance by Alaksiej Šumakovič
Texts by Siarhei Kraŭčanka (essay, editing, translation),
Alaksej Krukoŭski and Alaksandr Baroŭski (Malenčyk biography),
Giovanni Lami (artist statement)
Chris Liebing's first full solo techno LP, 'Evolver' is released on 27th March 2026, via his own CLR imprint. The German techno don's LP features a host of collaborators across music, images, and artwork. Luke Slater, Charlotte De Witte, Speedy J, The Advent, Terence Fixmer, Pascal Gabriel, Daniel Miller contribute to the music, while long-time collaborators Studio Bergfors deliver design, and legendary photographer Anton Corbijn shot Liebing for the project.
The Evolver LP is the sum total of Chris Liebing's three decades at the beating heart of techno. It's the record only someone whose first break as a techno DJ was playing five hours at Sven Väth's infamous Omen in Frankfurt - and who has ridden out every twist and turn of life and subcultures since, while remaining rooted in the true school, dark, sweaty techno sweat pits of the world - could have made. It's the result of deep introspection, but it's about utter immediacy. It's the sound of someone previously driven along by compulsion and happenstance at last finding the confidence to be utterly intentional about their practice, allowing them to take the most classic, familiar, proven elements from the past and render them completely new.
Evolver is also Liebing's first completely solo album. There are collaborations, yes: with old friends from the OG techno generation, Luke Slater, Speedy J, and The Advent, all on uncompromising form, and with new generation figurehead Charlotte De Witte, who provides a thrilling narration of total surrender to the moment on acid clarion call "Symphonie des Seins". But unlike all Liebing's albums to date, there's no co-pilot. Every structure, every mixdown, every choice serves his singular vision of how his untold immersion in the surging currents of the world's greatest clubs should sound. The elements are all those forged in the white heat of Omen and Tresor in the mid 90s - brutal repetition, titanium kick drums, industrial atmospherics, but also dark rave euphoria, ever present surging acid lines just on the cusp of trance, and just enough human voices to remind you of bodies on the dance floor - but rendered with all the extraordinary accumulated skill and technological developments since then.
It's Chris's vision entirely, his musings on sound, technology, and life birthing tracks like "Roy Batty." Inspired by thoughts of AI becoming sentient and hungering for more life like Rutger Hauer's titular Blade Runner character, it was one of the first tracks to emerge and a foundation stone for the album. And in pursuit of that vision, it's built like a "proper album". The anticipation and menace of intro "Unfold" tip over into the glowing hot high drama psychedelia of "Symphonie…" then the breathless headlong rush of The Advent collab and on through an unfolding narrative that goes deep, goes dark, opens out into grand vistas, takes strange turns before finally landing on the alien landscape of… well… "Endtrack".
Not everything is pummelling on Evolver - the dazzling title track feels like you've been welcomed into the courtly dance of a higher dimension civilisation, and the audacious Speedy J collab "Shaping Frequencies" is a beatless flow that tests the boundaries between signal and noise. But for all its complexity, conceptualism, and stylistic branching out, every last part unmistakably powered by that dark techno-cavern energy above all else. All of it positively radiates the qualities of Liebing's greatest work and sets to date - but somehow even more so than before. Whether you're listening for aesthetic inspiration, cerebral stimulation or just that raw physical power, this album will sweep you up into its momentum and won't let go of you until it's done.
A label long synonymous with raw, off-centre electronics and uncompromising club tools, Bjarki’s bbbbbb recors welcomes a producer whose approach feels cut from the same cloth, London’s Henry Greenleaf. In an era where functionality often outweighs feeling, ‘Brawn’ is a record that doesn’t court approval; it insists on impact. Built for high-pressure systems and low ceilings, it channels force not as spectacle, but as design.
Greenleaf’s catalogue to date, spanning labels such as Par Avion, YUKU, and ARTS, sketches a restless trajectory between precision and collapse. His productions operate where rhythm becomes architecture: kicks land like poured concrete, subs buckle and flex beneath shifting percussive grids, and textures are stretched until they fray at the edges. Sound is treated as a physical material, layered and stress-tested, reshaped until the familiar mutates into something tactile and strange.
Across the EP, that philosophy takes full form. A1 ‘Brawn’ sets the tone with dense, piston-like drums and tightly coiled low-end pressure, balancing brute force with meticulous spatial control. ‘Jump Up To Be’ follows with a more fractured swing, percussive shards ricocheting across a framework that feels perpetually on the verge of rupture. On the flip, ‘Gawk’ strips things back to skeletal components, carving negative space between distorted pulses and menacing, warped rhythmic figures, before ‘UNTUNTUNT’ closes the record in driving fashion, delivering a raw, functional workout that reduces the groove to its bluntest, most hypnotic form.
True to the label’s ethos, ‘Brawn’ doesn’t chase trends or smooth its edges. It folds air and pressure into motion, pares club music down to its working parts, and leaves room for spontaneous chaos to erupt within the grid; moments where structure splinters, energy misbehaves, and control gives way just enough to keep things volatile. Engineered yet unpredictable, utilitarian yet unruly, the EP embodies the tension, unpredictability, and uniqueness that have long defined bbbbbb recors.
As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process. Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever. The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before. ‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract. There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.
At the core of the creative process behind “HPC” and “Bor3d” lies meta-irony, a quality that permeates much of today’s digital content landscape.
Both tracks are a deliberate attempt to push the sound toward a barely perceptible absurdity and ironic unseriousness in their interpretation of well-familiar styles of dance club music. It is a play with form, expectation, and recognizability — balancing sincerity with sarcastic exaggeration.
Okay
Okay is built around interruption. Voices, fragments of dialogue, yawns, irritation — people seem to step inside the track uninvited. Someone is bored, someone is annoyed, someone tries to stop the flow entirely. Just like in real life, the process is constantly disrupted. The track reflects the experience of being surrounded by opinions, noise, and skepticism — especially the kind that will never be convinced, no matter what you do. “Okay” becomes a quiet, ironic response to this pressure: not agreement, not approval, but endurance. The track continues anyway.
Tripatura
Tripatura is a fictional creature — a warped echo of cryptid mythology. In this narrative, Tripatura doesn’t simply exist, it hunts. Once it finds you, it drags you into an endless trip with no exit point. Time stretches, perception blurs, and the track itself becomes the trap. Its prolonged, unresolved ending mirrors the experience of being stuck inside a loop that refuses closure. Tripatura doesn’t rush. It lingers, slowly pulling you deeper, until the trip no longer feels temporary.
Thomas Schumacher’s “Schall" is a landmark Techno track that has pushed the boundaries since it’s original release in 1995. A remix by the man himself turned the underground cult track into a chart phenomen, something unseen up until then. The story continued when Thomas’ created a special mash-up of “Schall” and Soft Cell’s “Tainted Love to celebrate his first DJ set at the legendary Fusion Festival in 2016, which ended up becoming one of the most saught after mash-ups. We are excited to present the 2021 version of “Tainted Schall" by Thomas Schumacher.
Danny Krivit pays tribute to the royal family of soul with a double A-side of classic house remixes from Michael and Janet, both appearing on 7-inch for the first time. Standouts from the revered era of ’90s house, these tracks have remained a steady presence in Krivit’s sets, a testament to their timeless appeal.
Mr. K’s edit of ‘Remember The Time’ takes E-Smoove’s punchy Late Nite remix from the original 1992 12-inch single — already considered the strongest mix on the release — and carefully condenses it to fill a 7-inch, retaining all the best elements while adding a highly mixable intro and a unique acapella ending. This edit might now be the definitive version of this classic club tune! The original mix of Janet’s ‘Any Time, Any Place’ hit radio in 1993, but it wasn’t until the following year when Darryl James and David Anthony’s smoothly uplifting and funky remix really took off in all the clubs, and it’s this D&D remix that Krivit turns his attention to for the flip side of this new MEU 45. A favorite of Frankie Knuckles, and Body & Soul, ‘Any Time, Any Place’ has remained a go-to cut for Mr. K, who shares his personal edit here on the compact format for the very first time.
The Éthiopiques series returns! Essential archive recordings from an extremely fruitful period in Ethiopian music.
Before “Swinging Addis” took over the world, there was Moussié Nerses Nalbandian — the Armenian-born composer who shaped modern Ethiopian music. Mentor, arranger, and pioneer, he laid the foundations of Ethio-jazz.
This Éthiopiques volume revives his forgotten legacy, recorded live by Either/ Orchestra First issue ever with new exclusive photos and in depth liner 8-page insert.
“Ethiopian jazzmen are the best musicians that we have seen so far in Africa.
They really are promising handlers of jazz instruments.”
Wilbur De Paris
(1959, after a concert in Addis Ababa)
አዲስ፡ዘመን። *Addis zèmèn* **A new era.**
The time is the mid-1950s and early 1960s, just before "Swinging Addis" bloomed – or rather boomed – onto the scene. Brass instruments are still dominant, but the advent of the electric guitar, and the very first electronic organs, are just around the corner. Rock’n'Roll, R’n’B, Soul and the Twist have not yet barged their way in. Addis Ababa is steeped in the big band atmosphere of the post-war era, with Glenn Miller's *In the* *Mood* as its world-wide theme song, neck and neck with the Latin craze that was in vogue at the same period. Life has become enjoyable once again, with the return of peace after the terrible Italian Fascist invasion of Ethiopia (1935-1941). The redeployment of modern music is part and parcel of the postwar reconstruction. *Addis zèmèn* – a new era – is the watchword of the postwar period, just as it was all across war-torn Europe.
The generation who were the young parents of baby boomers** were the first to enjoy this musical renaissance, before the baby boomers themselves took over and forever super-charged the soundtrack of the final days of imperial reign. Music is Ethiopia's most popular art form, and very often serves as the best barometer for the upsurge of energy that is critical for reconstruction. Whether it be jazz in Saint-Germain-des-Prés or the *zazous* who revolutionised both jazz and French *chanson* after the *Libération*, be it Madrid's post-Franco Movida, or Dada, the Surrealists and *les années folles* that followed World War I, the periods just after mourning and hardship always give rise to brighter and more tuneful tomorrows. Addis Ababa, as the country's capital, and the epicentre of change, was no exception to this vital rule.
**Two generations of Nalbandian musicians**
Nersès Nalbandian belonged to a family of Armenian exiles, who had moved to Ethiopia in the mid-1920s. The uncle Kevork arrived along with the fabled "*Arba Lidjotch*", the** "*40 Kids*", young Armenian orphans and musicians that the Ras Tafari had recruited when he visited Jerusalem in 1924, intending to turn their brass band into the official imperial band. If Kevork Nalbandian was the one who first opened the way of modernism, pushing innovation so far as to invent musical theatre, it was his nephew Nersès who would go on to become, from the 1940s and until his death in 1977, a pivotal figure of modern Ethiopian music and of the heights it. Going all the way back to the 1950s. Nothing less. And it is Nersès who is largely to thank for the brassy colours that so greatly contributed to the international renown of Ethiopian groove. While the younger generations today venture timidly into the genealogy of their country's modern music, often losing their way amidst a distinctly xenophobic historiographical complacency, many survivors of the imperial period are still around to bear witness and pay tribute to the essential role that "Moussié Nersès" played in the rise of Abyssinia's musical modernity.
Given the year of his birth (15 March 1915), no one knows for sure if Nersès Nalbandian was born in Aintab, today Gaziantep (Turkiye/former Ottoman Empire) or on the other side of the border in Alep, Syria... What is certain is that his family, like the entire Armenian community, was amongst the victims of the genocide perpetrated by the Turks. Alep, the place of safety – today in ruins.
Before Nersès then, there was uncle Kevork (1887-1963). For a quarter of a century, he was a whirlwind of activity in music teaching and theatrical innovation. *Guèbrè Mariam le Gondaré* (የጎንደሬ ገብረ ማርያም አጥቶ ማግኘት, 1926 EC=1934) is his most famous creation. This play included "ten Ethiopian songs" — a totally innovative approach. According to his autobiographical notes, preserved by the Nalbandian family, Kevork indicates that he composed some 50 such pieces over the course of his career. This shows just how much he understood, very early on, the critical importance of song as Ethiopia's crowning artistic form. Indeed, for Ethiopian listeners, the most important thing is the lyrics, with all their multifarious mischief, far more than a strong melody, sophisticated arrangements or even an exceptional voice. (This is also why Ethiopians by and large, and beginning with the artists and producers themselves, believed for a long time — and wrongly — that their music could not possibly be exported, and could never win over audiences abroad, who did not speak the country's languages).
Last but not least, one of Kevork's major contributions remains composing Ethiopia's first national anthem – with lyrics by Yoftahé Negussié.
Nersès Nalbandian moved to Ethiopia at the end of the 1930s, at the behest of his ground-breaking uncle. Proficient in many instruments (pretty much everything but the drums), conductor, choir director, composer, arranger, adapter, creator, piano tuner, purveyor of rented pianos,... he was above all an energetic and influential teacher. From 1946 onwards, thanks to Kevork's connexion, Nersès was appointed musical director of the Addis Ababa Municipality Band. In just a few years, Nersès transformed it into the first truly modern ensemble, thanks to the quality of his teaching, his choice of repertoire, and the sophistication of his arrangements. It was this group that would go on to become the orchestra of the Haile Selassie Theatre shortly after its inauguration in 1955, which was a major celebration of the Emperor's jubilee, marking the 25th anniversary of his on-again-off-again reign.
At some point or other in his long career, Nersès Nalbandian had a hand in the creation of just about every institutional band (Municipality Band, Police Orchestra, Imperial Bodyguard Band, Army Band, Yared Music School…), but it was with the Haile Selassie Theatre – today the National Theatre – that his abilities were most on display, up until his death in 1977. To this must be added the development of choral singing in Ethiopia, hitherto unknown, and a sort of secret garden dedicated to the memory of Armenian sacred music, and brought together in two thick, unpublished volumes. Shortly before his death (November 13, 1977), he was appointed to lead the impressive Ethiopian delegation at Festac in Lagos, Nigeria (January-February 1977).
His status as a stateless foreigner regularly excluded him from the most senior positions, in spite of the respect he commanded (and commands to this day) from the musicians of his era. Naturally gifted and largely self-taught, Nerses was tirelessly curious about new musical developments, drawing inspiration from the very first imported records, and especially from listening intensely to the musical programmes broadcast over short-wave radio – BBC *First*. A prolific composer and arranger, he was constantly mindful of formalising and integrating Ethiopian parameters (specific “musical modes”, pentatonic scale, and the dominance of ternary rhythms) into his “modernisation” of the musical culture, rather than trying to over-westernise it. It even seems very probable that *Moussié* Nerses made a decisive contribution to the development of tighter music-teaching methods, in order to revitalise musical education during this period of prodigious cultural ferment. Flying in the face of all the historiographical and musicological evidence, it is taken as sacrosanct dogma that the four musical modes or chords officially recognised today, the *qǝñǝt* or *qiñit* (ቅኝት), are every bit as millennial as Ethiopia itself. It would appear however that some streamlining of these chords actually took place in around 1960. It was only from this time onward that music teaching was structured around these four fundamental musical modes and chords: *Ambassel*, *Bati*, *Tezeta* and *Antchi Hoyé*. A historical and musical “details” that is, apparently, difficult to swallow, especially if that should honour a *foreigner*. Modern Ethiopian music has Nersès to thank for many of its standards and, to this day, it is not unusual for the National Radio to broadcast thunderous oldies that bear unmistakable traces of his outrageously groovy touch.
Quiet an old school EP, from 1995, label taking his name from one of the first rave in Paris aera...
A side brings the "Protect", an accelerator track... After each drops it goes 40 BPM or so... Untill the 300 BPM at the end...
B side brings a 3 horns call and then a tribal 180 BPM Harcore, minimal and rageous !
Visuals were remixed by Vstee FDB, and the record comes exactly like the original : yellow 3mm sleeve, white inner, and a sticker on the right corner of the sleeve.
Mastering done by Stefan ZMK and cut by Simon The Exchange.
Pressed at Records Industry.
Emily Jeanne returns with Past Through Desire, the second release on her quỳnh imprint. Four advanced experiments in tripped-out rhythms, kinetic crossroads through the lunar-lit abyss.
What blossomed with quỳnh’s debut Call Of The Sea, now further develops with follow up Past Through Desire. The second edition on Emily Jeanne’s imprint truly clarifies her sound, an emblematic swirl of experimental nodes bunched tight into a nocturnal bouquet.
Twice Not Nice shimmers within its percussive hive, a psychedelic wormhole that furrows taut towards the circular infinite. Vague Gestures cuts sharper, a snarling stepper etched finely into its minimalist holding pattern for a proper skank-out. On the flip, Fire Lily marches a stranger; a psychoactive chant summoning the percussive half time with an eerie glint. Closer Traversal returns to the dimly lit dancefloor path, writhing around in slippery configurations until the broken loop reaches its end. A mesmerising second instalment from Emily Jeanne and her quỳnh stable.
The first volume in a two-part collection of pirate radio adverts & idents, taken from recordings of London stations between 1984 & 1993.
Many thanks to Wayne Anthony, Simon Reynolds, Stephen Hebditch & The Pirate Radio Archive.
A bit of backstory behind this release, I first met Hilton (Jack Horner) at an event in 2012 that took place in a venue called Crucifix Lane (also known as Jack's, now defunct due to expansion of London Bridge station). He's good friends with Krome & Time who were performing that night and I remember chatting with him about jungle (I was still a very eager young lad that was in his first year of raving and very keen to talk about jungle/hardcore/d&b to anyone that would be willing to endure it!) and he mentioned that he used to make jungle in the 90s. I asked who he was and when he told me he was Jack Horner, I went mental because I was a big fan of the 2nd release on Spectrum Records (The Hoover & I Got This Feeling) and to actually meet the person behind those tunes was a really special situation for me to be in.
Unfortunately, I was too shy to get any contact details for him and I never saw him again or knew anyone that had a way of getting in touch with him. That was until very recently, when he had started attending Distant Planet events in London & I got the chance to meet him again, only to be shocked by him telling me that he had been following me & my music and was a fan of me & my label! This time, I made sure that I was able to get contact details for him, I was not going to make the same mistake as last time!
Last December, he messaged me asking if I would be up for doing a remix of The Hoover & I was quite unsure about doing it because of how much I really enjoy the original and feel like it does pretty much everything it needs to do with the sounds used. But, I thought it would be worth a try so I gave it a go and Hilton really liked the outcome (which was a huge relief ????), even though I was a bit too scared to change too much of it haha.
He then asked if I would be interested in releasing it on Future Retro London, which I'd never considered doing because I thought he would have had his own plans for it but I was willing to try & see if we could make a release out of this. I messaged Dwarde & Kid Lib to ask if they'd be up for doing remixes of the same tune (at the time, we only had access to the samples from The Hoover) and they both were and they did great work taking the original track in different directions, each in their own way.
Around the time of making The Hoover, Hilton made another tune with similar samples called After The Pain, which was never released, but he still had the tune. The problem is that he only had it in the form of a cassette recording, which wasn't very good quality and probably would not be easily cleaned up for release. So, I decided to remake the tune from scratch, using the samples I had from The Hoover, as well as sourcing & recreating other sounds used. I was able to remake the whole tune arrangement & then Kid Lib mixed it down to make it sound more sonically similar to how it would have sounded when it was originally made back in 94/95.
Anyway, story time over, big thanks to Hilton for his co-operation & assistance on making this release happen, to Dwarde & Kid Lib for their remix work & a special shout going out to Hughesee for going through Hilton's collection of floppy disks to find & record the samples for The Hoover.
Continuing the release series on our town of multicultural multimedia hub called Sakskøbing, which has been named after a lovely place in Denmark. This time a true veteran of electronic music DJ Honesty steps up under his moniker Honeydrop. Delivering four cuts of honest house music infused with elements of dub and break this release is guaranteed to cause the turntables feeling good and appreciated, they will be asking you for more. Hans has been producing music fanatically for long time with first official releases dating back to 1995 so it is a true honour to welcome him to the label 30 years later, now in 2025. The release is an intergalactic warm blanket with music on it that is completely ready for different moods and settings of the events/parties/listening sessions one might find itself in. Starting with “Penha de Franca” right until the last track named after the release’s title “Free at Last” a smooth ride can be felt which hopefully by the end of it will set the listener free, if it needs to do so. Free at last dear listener, free at last.
The Money Records 2” multi-track tape of ‘Sugar Love’ and ‘You Bet I Would’ revealed an unknown title ‘We’ve Reached A Dead End’. This turned out to be a beautiful Richard Cason-penned ballad which featured a lush, dramatic arrangement by Los Angeles musician Ray Jackson, complete with male backing vocals.
Cason co-produced the three songs with producer Hadley Murrell who licensed the recordings to Ruth Dolphin at Money. ‘Sugar Love’ only appeared on the flip of the second pressing of ‘You Bet I Would’, the instrumental was used initially. ‘Sugar Love’ is in itself in-demand as a dance track. Money 606 did not sell enough to warrant a further release and the track lay unmixed in the vault until now.
Interestingly the tape was dated May 1973, just prior to the two releases, and was described on the box as a rework of a tape from July 1971 - the music certainly wasn’t rushed.
First things first, I want to thank Nectax for his patience, because he's been regularly sending me his music for well over 2 years & I was so swamped with other music being sent to me on a regular basis from other people, that I never made the time to actually check most of what he was sending me or to properly get back to him in response to the tracks of his that I did check. It's hard making time for listening to demos submitted for Future Retro London, amongst all the other commitments I have to take care of on a day-to-day basis, but he kept at it until I was finally able to realise what I had been sleeping on for so long.
Now that's out of the way, I was first made properly familiar with his music through his release on Over/shadow, as well as seeing some of his sets in London and hearing other people supporting his music, which made me more vigilant towards any music he'd send to me.
He sent me "London Bridge" and I really liked it, so much so that it gave me some ideas that I wanted to add to it & we turned it into a collab. He also sent me "Akaizen" which to me, is my favourite track of his that I'd heard of everything he'd sent me (that I actually made effort to check!), which Harmony has done a great job remixing. And then to complete the release, he met up with Champa B (who's based near him) to work on "Prisoners Of Psilocybe", and like that, it all came together in the end!
Big thanks to Nectax for his music (& again, sorry for being so consistently slow to respond!), to Harmony for his quality version of "Akaizen" & to Champa B for collaborating on "Prisoners Of Psilocybe".
Electronic were Bernard Sumner (New Order) and Johnny Marr (The Smiths), who together produced critically-acclaimed alternative dance, and gave both Bernard and Johnny the creative freedom to fully express themselves.
Raise The Pressure will be out on vinyl for the first time since its original release in 1996, as a 2LP for superior sound quality. Its original release was on 1LP.
This album had the added touch of Karl Bartos from Kraftwerk.
Lucy Duncombe and Feronia Wennborg compose a modern symphony for virtual choir on 'Joy, Oh I Missed You', muddling sound poetry with Nuno Canavarro and ‘Systemische'-style machine-damaged surrealism. Like a mashup of Lee Gamble's 'Models', Akira Rabelais' 'Spellewauerynsherde' and Robert Ashley's timeless 'Automatic Writing’ screwed to perfection.
Duncombe and Wennborg have been chewing over ‘Joy, Oh I Missed You’ for four long years, working their process until they were "queasily intimate" with their arsenal of artificial voice tools. Tracing the history of the technology, from voice synthesisers and chatbots to AI voice analysis tools, the duo experiment relentlessly to develop a digital-age response to IRL extended vocal technique - think François Dufrêne, Yoko Ono or Phew. Less interested in replicating human sounds exactly, they instead test how various tools might cough up their own idiosyncratic tics as they stretch and stutter through attempts to mimic their "fleshware" counterparts.
Duncombe's got prior form here, most recently re-synthesising her voice on the brilliantly oily 'Sunset, She Exclaims' 45 for Modern Love, following a stunner for 12th Isle in 2021. Wennborg brings along experience from her tenure as one half of microsound duo soft tissue, whose 2022 LP 'hi leaves' (Students of Decay) was a haptic treasure. These approaches mesh remarkably well on their first collaborative full-length, with Duncombe's eerie bio-electronic incantations providing the ideal foil for Wennborg's carbonated hardware processes. It's not completely clear where the human voice ends and the zeroes and ones begin on 'Your Lips, Covering Your Teeth', as rolling cyborg syllables tumble over OS-startup womps and surprisingly svelte outcroppings of glassy, synthetic glitches. The music is surprisingly mannered, a sonic reflection of the cover, where a mouth is pixellated until only colour swatches remain. Duncombe and Wennborg trace the gradual erosion of their voices, leaning into the chaos as their various tools veer off into unique patterns of failure.
What sounds like a far-off, ghosted folk rendition (we're reminded of the Icelandic laments that Rabelais chewed up on 'Spellewauerynsherde') is offset by gnarled, bitcrushed machine faults and pneumatic lip smacks on the brilliant 'Residue', and on 'Brushed My Hair', the duo massage the voice until it sounds like a flute. Assembling stutters and barks and sighs into a celestial chorus alongside time-stretched moans, they create a levitational atmosphere on 'Smell It', freezing the energy from bizarre pitch steps to configure a zonked vocal ensemble.
'Joy, Oh I Missed You’ is an album that, like its source material, constantly morphs, testing the boundaries of its concept repeatedly without bubbling over into conceptual goo. In fact, it's remarkably euphonious, even at its most theoretically abrasive; Duncombe and Wennborg wring out uniquely angelic formations through a process of trial and error that packs a surprising, hefty emotional punch.
A collection of obscure and unheard metaphysical sounds, 1980-1992
Lost Coast: Some Visionary Music from California assembles little unknown sounds from California’s metaphysical underground. Each recording is stylistically different—dream pop, guitar soli, fourth world, avant-electronic—but they are held together by a regional ethos of the “visionary.” This is music that envisions, seeing through the mind’s eye and conjuring new worlds.
Some people say that California is where “the nuts stop rolling”—where those too eccentric to fit in elsewhere ended up. What was meant pejoratively is easily reclaimed as a celebration of the free-thinking and the freely-freaking. Until the turn of the millennium, all manner of seekers rolled westward until they hit the pacific. Stationed along this edge, music was a way to roll still further: to imagine territories unencountered and wavelengths as yet unheard.
Lost Coast is a commemoration of the people who made these journeys and a resurrection of recordings they made little effort to broadcast. While some of the tracks were originally released on cassettes with modest distribution, others were only shared among friends or never shared at all. Assembled from the personal collection of House Rules operator Zully Adler, these recordings were all found on cassettes in flea markets, barn sales, rural thrift stores, and even stranger places—outside a gem and mineral shop, for example, and on the ranch of a retired mescalin dealer.
Nonetheless, these recordings are eminently listenable. California is a place where the strange and the pleasurable are frequent bedfellows.
For many italo disco fans, Dyva is nothing short of a mythical name. A cult act surrounded by mystery, legend, and endless debates fueled by pure passion. And it all started with their iconic track “Oh Mama Tonight”, which, adding fuel to the fire, was released only as a promo single. That rare Boot Legs vinyl became the holy grail for collectors, a lifelong hunt for true italo enthusiasts.
After just three official releases (the last one in 1990), Dyva seemingly vanished from the face of the earth… Until the early 2000s, when Finnish italo aficionado Kimmo Salo tracked them down in Sestri Levante, Italy. That unexpected meeting sparked a brand-new chapter, both for Kimmo’s soon-to-be-born label Flashback Records and for Dyva’s founding members Roberto Calzolari & Massimo Traversoni. Encouraged by Kimmo, the duo returned to the studio to bring back to life not only their long-lost 80s demos but also fresh new material.
This album is a true time capsule, covering the period between 1986 and 2024, featuring never-before-released single versions, true gems. For any die-hard Dyva fan, this is nothing less than an essential addition to the collection.
Do minerals dream of becoming semiconductors? Do they yearn to carry charges, amplify, switch, and convert energy into emotions comprehensible to humans? And what if, from the darkness of the underground, they had been listening to us sing in caves before the emergence of the first flute? Could they have guided us, through the course of history, to find them, extract them, and create new sounds through sinusoidal waves, to form valves and bend circuits?
If so, minerals would transition from what philosopher Eugene Thacker defines as the ‘planet’—that virginal and unreachable realm for humans that we study through geology, paleontology, and environmental sciences—to the ‘world,’ the space we inhabit, interpret, and synthesise in our daily lives. Sadly, we only remember the world when it erupts violently, through climate catastrophes or when a new virus emerges. Sometimes a tsunami collides with a nuclear plant, or viruses are cultivated as biological weapons in high-security laboratories, provoking a deep biological anxiety, hard to quell, which we all feel beneath our skin.
There exists a third realm, disconnected from both the world and the planet: the ‘earth’, an immense, dense rock floating in space alongside other planets, situated in the cosmological dimension. Relating to the earth is so complex that we only do so through theoretical speculations of a scientific nature or through science fiction, interweaving until one becomes the prophecy of the other, in an infinite, pendular dance. Beyond the darkness of space and Lovecraft’s cosmic horror, the fantasy of human extinction is the most recurrent: to reach a collapse so devastating that we do not survive it, even though the earth does, without us.
In a world where we quantify everything through body sensors, financial algorithms, nanometre-scale robots, and surveillance drones—a world in which everything that can be domesticated and controlled can also be commodified—a superior artificial intelligence would survive the collapse of the species (some speculate it might even cause it) and learn from our mistakes, thanks to our obsessive gathering of data.
Long after our voices fade, minerals will persist in the darkness of screens, in the silicon of chips, and in their pure form, still unexploited underground. Over the millennia, this intelligence might piece together fragments of our reasoning, as if an alien civilization finally connected with one of our spacecrafts loaded with messages cast into the void. It would sort through endless streams of data, unable to grasp the depths of emotion behind what it quantified, recreating simulations of our past, stripped of the nuance that once defined us and conducting experiments in sandboxes.
Some remnants of our existence—faint echoes of forgotten beauty—would be pieced together in an atlas of loss, buried beneath layers of numbers, decayed bots, and corroded hard drives. What will follow? Perhaps bison will once again roam—trotting to the strange pulse of techno, their ancient forms framed by the ruins of our cities.
Buildings will crumble, slowly dissolving under the soft touch of ambient music, and a thousand flowers will bloom with that ancient music created through electrical signals and computation. 7 songs for a future both improbable and inevitable—a final message from a world lost to itself, from planet Earth to planet Earth.
We are excited to announce the first reissue of Tony Scott's iconic “Manteca” album originally released in 1973. This 180-gram vinyl audiophile edition captures the essence of a true master of contaminated jazz, allowing listeners to experience Tony Scott's vibrant artistry like never before.
Originally described in the album’s liner notes by Sam Charters, "Manteca" embodies the spirit of the jazz musician’s journey—a testament to durability, warmth, and exuberance. Charters notes, “You have to be durable these days to be a jazz man... a musician like Tony Scott has the kind of personality that it takes to be a jazz man today” — a sentiment that perfectly encapsulates the artist's incredible career.
From the bustling club scene of New York in the 1950s to captivating audiences in Japan, Scott's journey brought him to Sweden in the summer of 1973, where he collaborated with exceptional local musicians. The result was a collection of vibrant, uptempo jazz tracks combined with reflective ballads, showcasing the remarkable versatility and inventiveness of Scott's clarinet, baritone, and even his distinctive scat vocals.
The album opens with the titular track "Manteca," setting an exhilarating tone that endures until the final, almost sinister note of "One For Topsy." Complemented by an all-star lineup, including bassist Sture Nordin, drummer Ed Thigpen and legendary percussionist Sabu Martinez, this session embodies the international spirit of jazz—a genre that transcends boundaries and unites souls.
This audiophile edition has been meticulously remastered to provide an unparalleled listening experience, preserving the authenticity of the original while ensuring superior sound quality. With only a limited amount produced, this vinyl reissue is a must-have for collectors and jazz aficionados alike.
Join us in celebrating the reemergence of Tony Scott's "Manteca," a true landmark in jazz history, and immerse yourself in the dynamic sounds that have inspired generations.
1. Watermelon Man
This track version actually came from an improvisation that Allesandro IIona (Keys) made on a live show at RonnieScott's at the start of the year. I think we were were having some issues with one of the monitors on stage and it juststarted making this beeping sound. Then I remember Alleh just came in with that piano riffat the start and the rest was history. This one of thefirst tracks we recorded for the EP and I'm super pleased with how this one turned out. Afterseeing Herbie Hancock live for thefirst time the year before, this felt like the perfect tribute to him!
2. Mandible
The majority of the writing on this album was done at my studio space in Hither Green, where I am every tuesday! I usethis space to record but mainly a space to develop my art. So this EP all came from a few sessions there. We all haveour own creative things going on so it was really great to collaborate as a band and trash out some ideas we had.Mandible is one of my favourite tracks on the EP. It's very simple but leaves us a lot of space to explore some more freeimprovisation. I think in some of my previous recorded music I was more focused on creating well crafted music withgreat melodies and harmony. Whereas here there's a bit more focus on playing as a group and being more explorative inimprovisation. We also didn't have a melody for this track until a week before the recording! Sometimes it just takes awhile tofind that melody or it might just pop into your head one day.
3. Slum
This is a tune that was actually written by myself in 2017/18. Round about that time, I had been playing at a jam night ata warehouse unit in Limehouse called Unit 31. The night was ran by Pianist Raffy Bushman and Drummer Sam Michnikand was focused on hiphop and Jazz fusion. We would usually play a set of instrumental music before it opened up forvocalists and other instrumentalists to come and jam. It was a great place to try out new ideas, so I wrote this tune for itbut we never recorded it. It was really nice to revisit this tune and get it recorded properly at 'That SoundStudios' (Seven Sisters). This track is all about dynamics and a slow build throughout. Descending to more chaos at theend!
4. Red Pistachio
For thefirst two sessions we wrote with a different bass player to Edmondo Cicchetti who is on the recordings. A greatbass player and friend of mine Tom Driessler. This track started kinda exactly how it starts on the record, with that basshook. I'm very influenced by Christian Scott Atunde Adjuah and his melodic writing. Particularly on his album 'StretchMusic'. So this felt really inspired by that album. The chords don't really move around too much until the solo sectionwhere it becomes more like a blues. Then Allesandro get's a bit more loose at the end with the descending sequence.
5. Jerome arrived Late
Quite simply we started writing this tune before Jerome (Drums) arrived late. In the recording session we were a bitundecided about what to do in the solo section. We tried out a few different options before we eventually landed onfeaturing Gabriele Pribetti on Sax. I'm really into his solo on this as it's rhythmically and dynamically really exciting. As Imixed the record it was also a great solo to mess with and run through lots of different plug-ins. There's some weirddelays and phasing going on that and I added some octaves too in places.
