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'Flowers', the new EP from Elizabeth Davis, finds itself at the cross-section of many factors. In part, it’s the result of Davis’ obsession with a seminal folk song. But it also coincides with her rediscovery of the voice and language as an instrument. It was recorded during an autumn residency at Sternhagen Gut, the cultural refuge run by Gudrun Gut and Thomas Fehlmann, located deep in the Uckermark countryside halfway between Berlin and the Baltic coast.

The six tracks on 'Flowers' all take Pete Seeger’s ‘60s protest-folk song 'Where Have All The Flowers Gone' as their starting point. However, they veer off in different directions, from vocal loops and deconstructed lyrics, to instrumental drones and glitchy, manipulated rhythm tracks. Like many musicians, Davis has learnt composition by a process of disassembly, analyzing musical works piece by piece, and 'Flowers' began as one such forensic exercise. “But sometimes,” says Davis, “a source is so loaded up on meaning that the studies and experiments can become worthwhile and meaningful works in their own right.” 'Flowers' began to take on a life of its own, raising renewed questions about age-old themes such as war, authorship, translation and historical structures.

Davis is no stranger to cover versions. From studying violin to playing in free jazz and punk bands, interpreting other artists’ works has long been a key part of her musical approach. And since her radio show 'Deep Puddle' recently drew to a close after seven years, her experiments with narration and sound collage have found their way into her musical work once again. For 'Flowers', she cut up the source material (with a nod to Gysin and Burroughs), and reassembled the lyrics, the musical notes, and recordings by different performers, to create uncanny new forms.

But perhaps the biggest influence on 'Flowers' was conversations about music, art and pop subcultures with Gut. These dialogues helped Davis find a balance between far-out sound design experiments and catchy melodies, combining a certain avant-garde element and modern day songcraft. And it’s this sense of conversation, this revisiting of topics and renewal of ideas, that will keep us coming back to 'Flowers' long into the future.

Merzbild Schwet, the second album opus released in 1980, is considered one of Nurse With Wound's major releases, and is part of the famous "Silver Edition" on Rotorelief Records, with a luxurious chrome-plated cover in double Gatefold sleeves, and sumptuous 200g vinyl discs issued in 300 copies on silver and black vinyl, and 700 copies on black vinyl.

The first track, Futurismo, begins with clanking rhythms, record skip clicks, and horn riffs before veering off into a crazed quilt of women singing, laughing, and talking in French. About halfway through, wild screeches of distortion disrupt the piece, and then more bizarre sounds take over before the piece ends with a collage of over modulated electronic hum and rambling piano. The other cut, Dada X, goes further into weirdness with lots of silences, creepy creaking noises, tones that build up and collapse, and scattered spoken word in French and English from Eve Libertine from the political punk band Crass, and the piece certainly lives up to the Dada of its title.

Despite its title, Ratboys’ new album Singin’ to an Empty Chair is not defined by what’s missing. Rather, it’s the beginning of an important dialogue with a close loved one, vocalist Julia Steiner finds herself estranged from. The music on the band’s sixth studio album – its first for New West Records – fills the space that person left behind with 11 songs showcasing Ratboys at the peak of their powers — twangy, effervescent, as confident as they’ve ever been, and perhaps more emotionally interrogative than ever before. The four-piece Chicago band followed up 2023’s highly acclaimed The Window by reconvening with co-producer Chris Walla to begin tracking at a rural Wisconsin cabin before taking the songs to Steve Albini’s famed Electrical Audio studios in Chicago and later to Rosebud Studio in Evanston, Illinois. The results veer from bubbly power-pop on “Anywhere” to irresistible post-country on “Penny in the Lake,” along with heart-piercing ballads like “Just Want You to Know the Truth” and an exhilarating detour into the extraterrestrial on “Light Night Mountains All That,” which Steiner dubs the band’s mammoth “wormhole jam.” Singin’ to an Empty Chair also marks the first Ratboys album written since Steiner began therapy, which the singer/lyricist credits for the clarity found across the album’s unflinching examinations of relationship and self. Fittingly, as the album begins by extending a hand into the void, it concludes with a scene of serenity – all while weaving candid honesty, humor, chaos, and whimsy along the way. “It's not all doom and gloom,” Steiner says. “The experience of making this record definitely gives me hope for whatever happens next.”

Despite its title, Ratboys’ new album Singin’ to an Empty Chair is not defined by what’s missing. Rather, it’s the beginning of an important dialogue with a close loved one, vocalist Julia Steiner finds herself estranged from. The music on the band’s sixth studio album – its first for New West Records – fills the space that person left behind with 11 songs showcasing Ratboys at the peak of their powers — twangy, effervescent, as confident as they’ve ever been, and perhaps more emotionally interrogative than ever before. The four-piece Chicago band followed up 2023’s highly acclaimed The Window by reconvening with co-producer Chris Walla to begin tracking at a rural Wisconsin cabin before taking the songs to Steve Albini’s famed Electrical Audio studios in Chicago and later to Rosebud Studio in Evanston, Illinois. The results veer from bubbly power-pop on “Anywhere” to irresistible post-country on “Penny in the Lake,” along with heart-piercing ballads like “Just Want You to Know the Truth” and an exhilarating detour into the extraterrestrial on “Light Night Mountains All That,” which Steiner dubs the band’s mammoth “wormhole jam.” Singin’ to an Empty Chair also marks the first Ratboys album written since Steiner began therapy, which the singer/lyricist credits for the clarity found across the album’s unflinching examinations of relationship and self. Fittingly, as the album begins by extending a hand into the void, it concludes with a scene of serenity – all while weaving candid honesty, humor, chaos, and whimsy along the way. “It's not all doom and gloom,” Steiner says. “The experience of making this record definitely gives me hope for whatever happens next.”

Noctourniquet And then everything went black, at least for a while, at least for The Mars Volta. In the months and years following their fifth full-length, Octahedron, Omar kept on at his usual fearsome creative pace. In fact, he ramped up his output considerably, starting up his own Rodriguez Lopez Productions label and releasing a slew of solo albums. It was a practice he’d begun shortly after De-Loused’s release, with his solo debut A Manual Dexterity: Soundtrack Volume One, but as the decade reached its close, Omar grew to rely upon his solo recordings as an outlet for his prolific creativity, these albums often exploring musical pastures far beyond even The Mars Volta’s wide-ranging parameters. Before choosing to release music under his own name, Omar would always play it to Cedric first, to see if the frontman thought it had potential to become Mars Volta music. Shortly after Octahedron’s completion, Cedric flagged one batch of tracks Omar had cut with Deantoni Parks, a brilliant drummer and composer who’d briefly occupied the Mars Volta drumstool in-between Jon Theodore and Thomas Pridgen’s tenures, and whose volcanic creativity and unique, unpredictable approach to rhythm and composition had quickly made him one of Omar’s favourite artistic foils.

As with the music that made up Octahedron, the new tracks Cedric had optioned for The Mars Volta often veered far from the riotous, Grand Guignol visions of their earlier releases. It possessed the punchy, song-based focus of Octahedron, though this was a considerably darker, more menacing strain of pop, with synthesisers figuring heavily in the productions. Cedric took the tracks in 2009 and set about writing songs to the music. But no more new Mars Volta music would be heard until 2012. The years that passed in-between were nonetheless momentous, and busy, witnessing an unexpected reunion of the members of At The Drive-In, and Cedric joining his own side-project, Anywhere. But there wasn’t any sign of life within the Mars Volta until Omar, Cedric and their bandmates took to the road for a series of live shows in the spring of 2011, billed as The Omar Rodriguez-Lopez Group, debuting the songs that would become Noctourniquet. The album followed the next year, and it remains one of The Mars Volta’s finest, its electronic textures staking out unfamiliar but fertile new ground.

An unsettling, subtly turbulent listen, Noctourniquet found Cedric sketching out a story about “some sort of device that stops the darkness from bleeding”, drawing influence variously from the nursery rhyme Solomon Grundy, the Greek myth of Hyacinthus and the song Birth, School, Work, Death by British underground rockers The Godfathers. It was an album of dystopian futurism, signalled by the paranoid cyber-rock of opener The Whip Hand and its unnerving chorus, “That’s when I disconnect from you”. But it was also an album of inspired, unexpected moves and uncanny invention, like how Dyslexicon seemed to eerily evoke Blondie’s Rapture, before rushing headlong into its bruising chorus, tempos shifting restlessly throughout like quaking earth beneath the listener’s feet, or how Aegis put a brave new spin on The Mars Volta’s trademark rewiring of salsa’s overdriven passions, or how Cedric had never sounded as scary as he did on The Malkin Jewel’s mutant burlesque shuffle. Tracks like Molochwalker were sleek and concise in a way The Mars Volta had never really attempted before – which was all part of Omar’s plan.

“It had all been guitar, guitar, guitar, overdubs, everything fighting for space in the same frequency,” he explains. “So for Noctourniquet, it was all about subtracting elements, of sticking to how I made demos.” Deantoni’s presence helped revivify the group, playing against cliché and expectation, and taking each song in unexpected directions. “I’d beatbox a rhythm for him to play, to go with my guitar part, and he’d come back with three or four alternate options. It was so great.” Similarly, Cedric had never sung better than on Noctourniquet, staking out a fearsome spectrum from the chilling Tom Waitsian growl of The Malkin Jewel to the keening, beautiful vocalisation on Vedamalady, rising to match some of Omar’s most deft, most immediately effective and melodic songs yet. Indeed, Noctourniquet is the sound of a band discovering new ways to do familiar things, renewing their commitment to their mission, finding fresh inspiration a decade in, and shaking off any complacency that might have come with ten years of acclaim and success.

Introducing their first release, Label Unidentified Turning Object launch the four-track 'Unidentified Turning Object 001' EP, a highly inventive statement that blends astral drone, dubby downtempo, high-energy breaks and crystalline ambient textures.
Self-released and refreshingly unbound by mainstream expectations, 'Unidentified Turning Object 001 veers sharply away from conventional dancefloor tropes. Instead, it sketches a deeply immersive, almost sculptural experience.

Very Limited release in 4 different colors eco-vinyl : Blue, Dark Green, Green and Orange.

The notion of home isn’t precise, even a dictionary will offer multiple definitions. A home can be a place where you live, a place where you belong, where you originate from or a place where you’re given care; it can be a physical space, a land, a people or even a person. The concept isn’t completely universal, but everyone possesses a unique idea of what home means to them. On her fifth album, Ziúr considers not just what home symbolizes from her perspective, but the word’s resonance to the diverse community that surrounds her, and how their stories have impacted her over the years. Indeed, it’s the first time she’s felt it necessary to examine her own nationality. In the past, she’s deliberately avoided labelling herself as German, feeling disconnected from her country’s politics, culture and even the German language itself. In 2025, the idea of Germanness is in flux and progressives are under attack from all sides. The country’s politics aren’t only being turned inward by the growing throng of far-right voices, but by scared moderates, opportunists and those blinded by comfort, willing to ignore hatred to maintain their privilege. Stepping up to provide a different narrative, Ziúr scours her soul, writing and singing in German for the first time and proposing growth and evolution, not fear and regression. “I never considered being part of Germany,” she explains. “But I am.”

A solemn mood permeates the album’s opening track ‘Brown is the Color’, and Ziúr sings in measured, slow-motion breaths over noisy synth oscillations and doomed piano flourishes. Already, it’s a significant departure from her last run of releases, veering away from the frenetic, satirical chaos of 2023’s Hakuna Kulala-released ‘Eyeroll’ or its fantastical, dubby predecessor ‘Antifate’. Ziúr pulls on real world insights here, tracing her oldest, dearest musical inspirations to present her origins to anybody who might be listening. “Cold world is holding up,” she laments with a metallic crunch. “To let go of your heart, let me go.” And her voice emerges from the shadows completely on ‘Tame’; unprocessed, Ziúr sounds naked and vulnerable on ‘Tame’, curving her precise words around broken, lopsided rhythms and jangling new wave guitars. It’s pop music in its own way, inverted and reconstructed to fit snugly into her well-established sonic landscape. On ‘No Yawn’, brittle, downsampled hi-hats and industrial scrapes ping-pong around distorted riffs, provided by James Ó Ceallaigh aka WIFE; “You fail to sugarcoat your half-ass attempt,” she deadpans, “to build your promised wonderland on quicksand.” Even the beatless ‘All Odds No Chants’, a collaboration with Elvin Brandhi and Sara Persico, reveals another room in Ziúr’s autobiographical suite, mirroring György Ligeti’s enduringly influential choral works with its gnarled, dissonant vocal harmonies.

Songs for Nothing was written upon Olan Monk’s return to the west coast of Ireland. The album is imbued with the influence of sean-nós singing, Irish language songs in the “old style” that often proclaim tales of love, loss and landscape; and also heavily indebted to the late Sinéad O’Connor’s confessional songwriting. Reconstructing these influences through their unique perspective has resulted in a fragmentary album veering between collaged pop, machinic rock and slow airs, “dedicated to Conamara and all who have called it home”. The western, Atlantic-facing edge of Ireland has a particular feeling and energy, one that permeates the release: the granite pulsates, the ocean and sky reflect intensities, seaweed rots on shingle shores, plants bloom, ancient trees come up for air from the drowned forest in Galway Bay, the sun splinters through the low clouds.

All songs written and arranged by Olan Monk
Vocals, guitars, piano and tin whistle performed by Olan Monk
Drum programming by Olan Monk featuring recordings of percussion performed by Michael Speers
Vocals on ‘Down 3’ and ‘Fate (Reprise)’ performed by Maria Somerville
Cello on ‘Blank Page’, ‘Oatmilk’, ‘Pomegranate’ and ‘Fate (Reprise)’ performed by Risteárd Ó’hAodha
Violin on ‘Corp’, ‘Down 3’ and ‘Drón Feadóige’ and accordion on ‘Amhrán Mhaínse’ performed by Peadar Tom Mercier
Bodhrán on ‘Corp’ and ‘Drón Feadóige’ performed by Aindriú De Buitléir
Harp on ‘10 Days’ performed by Róisín Berkeley
Flute on ‘10 Days’ performed by Dylan Kerr
Accordion on ‘Blank Page’ performed by Olan Monk

Recorded and mixed by Olan Monk
Additional mixing on ‘Can’t Wait’ by Patrick Burniston
Mastered by Noel Summerville
Photography by Charlie Joe Doherty
Artwork by Nicola Tirabasso
Thanks to Nic Tasker

With love to friends and family for their support in making this record
Dedicated to Conamara and all who have called it home

Originally released in 1973 and pressed in very small quantities, Emerge is the second album by the McCrary family and their non-gospel debut. Long sought after by collectors and modern-soul and funk connoisseurs, it's an exemplar of what was considered "progressive soul" in the early 70s as well as what emerged a generation later as "neo-soul." This long-overdue reissue was produced with the full cooperation of the McCrary family and gives this remarkable record wide distribution and easy accessibility for the very first time since its initial low-key release over half a century ago. The McCrary family started out as a gospel group in their native Youngstown, Ohio but turned to secular music upon relocating to Los Angeles in 1970 and recording this album for the tiny Cat’s Eye label of Beverly Hills. The music veers between sophisticated, jazzy R&B (Charity McCrary’s beautiful “Matter Of Time”) to occasionally grittier funk (as on “Kung Fu”). “Be A Father To Your Son” and “People Run On Love” bear messages that are still relevant decades later. The McCrarys would later gain wider recognition with their hit “You” featuring Stevie on harmonica and with “Any Old Sunday” which was memorably covered by Chaka Khan.

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

With the release of Make a Change, their third album, Blue Deal definitively steps into the league of the greats. The German quartet delivers a perfect manifesto of Blues-Rock here, featuring all the ingredients that make the genre beautiful. It"s impeccably produced and performed, further highlighting compositions whose "hit potential" immediately catches the eye. The influences are clear and embraced (Deep Purple, ZZ Top, Bad Company) without ever veering into plagiarism. There is now a distinct "Blue Deal touch" that explains why the band is today THE reference for blues in Germany, with the potential to conquer the rest of Europe...and the world. Make a Change will be the perfect vehicle to serve this fine ambition !

Identified Patient returns to Dekmantel for a third time with his Reset EP. The future-facing four tracker is another mutant fusion of bass and techno with low-end power with cerebral sound designs.

Job Veerman debuted on the Dekmantel UFO Series in 2019, returned in 2020 and has lit up the festival several times with transportative sets that balance power with precision. Like his productions on the Nerve Collect label, he co-runs with Gamma Intel, they are leftfield explorations of genre and tempo that find strange sensuality in often abstract ideas. Once again here, the Dutchman draws on eclectic influences to craft music that sounds like no one else but remains anchored by magnetic rhythms.

Opener 'Light' kicks off with a fuzzy synth line that slithers between syncopated drums. Whispered vocals drift through the mix as lurching basslines swell and collapse beneath them. The groove disassembles and reassembles in waves, propelled forward by bursts of glitchy, off-kilter percussion that's unsteady yet seductive. 'Scales' is a slow, menacing descent into rhythmic darkness. It sounds both ancient and futuristic with ghoulish vocalisations and filtered synths flickering like a badly wired circuit. There's a rave tension lurking throughout, but always in the shadows.

'Internal Pace' drives on but rides fluid, wobbly bass while tightly looped hits build the pressure. Layers of static and subtle distortion add grit to this unrelenting heads-down roller. Finally, 'Return' is a kinetic, razor-edged ride where jungle breaks collide serpentine melodies. Ethereal female coos drift in and out, brushing against spat-out vocal fragments so that tension crackles throughout this hallucinogenic trip.

With Reset, Identified Patient reaffirms his status as a singular voice who twists sound into evocative new worlds.

"We're The Meatmen.And You Still Suck" wurde 1988 "live" aufgenommen und war zur Zeit ihres Releases das definitive MEATMEN Album. Unglaublich gut in der Qualität, wenn man bedenkt, dass es sich hier (hust, hust) um ein reines Livealbum handelt, ist "We're The Meatmen." der Sound der Band wie sie immer klingen sollte. Ohne sich auch nur einen Deut zurückzuhalten, ist dies hier aufgedrehter Punk/Metal mit dem männlichsten Mann aller Zeiten, Tesco Veer als Zeremonienmeister der Apokalypse. Die Songs sind ganz vorn mit dabei, wo die Originale "Tooling For Anus," "One Down Three To Go," "Lesbian Death Dirge" und so weiter mit fabulösen Coverversionen von "Razamanaz" von NAZARETH und "Rebel Rouser" von SWEET. Fünf Bonustracks geben dem Ganzen den letzten Schliff, der auch noch Material von 1986 mit Lyle Preslar (MINOR THREAT) in den Topf wirft.

One of the treasures of listening to this album is hearing their signature sound moving through the culture of the 60s while holding onto what made them…well…them. Even as the album art veered towards a counter-culture sensibility, the music inside was not letting the listener mistake them for anyone else but themselves… always Booker T. & The MGs. 1967’s Hip Hug-Her is one of their most beloved records, with its toe tapping into the pop world. Spawning two significant hits, their cover of the Young Rascals “Groovin” and the title track, which many recognize as the iconic opening and closing credit sequence music for the movie ‘Barfly.’

After impressions of Unguja and Borneo islands, Discrepant's chieftain Gonçalo F. Cardoso continues his sonic travelogue on insularity with 'Impressões de Várias Ilhas’.

Literally translated as "impressions from various islands", this third tome dwells on recordings and inspirations from three archipelagos of Macaronésia. Soaking in the sounds and recollections from Azores, Cape Verde and Canary Islands these diaristic endeavours spread throughout a number of real environments, from water caves and black stone beaches and lagoons to small harbours and everyday life scenarios, to project them into this not quite imaginary but not quite real memory haze that goes from a deeply personal impression to a resonating one.

Melding raw field recordings with processed ones and synthesized landscapes, Cardoso never falters into sonic tourism, conjuring small-ish takes both vivid and dreamy, infused with a sense of wonder that feels both bewildering, comforting and escapist. The breaking waves of 'Bufadeiros de São Vicente' soothing in their irregular pattern, mingling with the lone echoing tones not completely removed from Black Dice's 'Beaches & Canyon's most pensive passages, flow into the underwater ambience and suspended pads of 'La Cueva Scuba Livre', as reflections of the same sea crashing in on different lands, nature’s psychogeography. Further on, the queasy warm chord and scraping murmurs of 'Noite em Rabo de Peixe' mirror their nighttime framing while 'Rãs em Xoxo' veers closer to pure musique concréte, crossed by a subdued feeling of unease that lingers in the nostalgia of 'Cozido da Caldeira Velha', brimming within the haze of a Boards of Canada vignette. Summoning the past lives and future hauntings of its scenery, 'Salinas de Pedra Lume' is like the quiet epic of the album, meandering into the unknown among crackling field recordings, decaying synths and flute-like howls - or is it howl-like flutes? - recurring as glimpses from foregone existences, not necessarily Gonçalo’s own. Maybe ours?

Music & Photography by Gonçalo F. Cardoso
Artwork layout by Jeroen Wille
Master by Rashad Becker

Discrepant 2025
Pressed in Spain

Editrix is a Massachusetts-rooted trio known for their wild, gnarly take on experimental rock. Blending jagged guitar riffs, unpredictable rhythms, and bursts of cartoonish eccentricity, the band creates a sound that's both chaotic and compelling. Composed of singer and guitarist Wendy Eisenberg, drummer Josh Daniel, and bassist Steve Cameron, Editrix thrives on musical risk-taking, often veering into noise-rock territory with a playful edge. On their latest release, The Big E, Editrix unleashes their fangs, resulting in a demonic wall of scuzz. But for as intense as Editrix sounds, the act is convivial and easygoing _ ingrained in deep friendships and speedy, yet jovial recording sessions. Editrix's most pummeling moments seem to be founded on a heartfelt connection, adding emotional resonance to their most feral noise. In the three years since their second LP Editrix II, Eisenberg, Daniel, and Cameron have thrived in individual states of motion _ in and away from music. New York City-based Eisenberg is an accomplished solo artist in the avant-garde realm, receiving recent acclaim for their album Viewfinder (released by American Dreams in 2024). They are also a prolific collaborator, performing in a handful of projects alongside the likes of romantic partner more eaze, Bill Orcutt, David Grubbs, and others. Cameron relocated from Massachusetts to New York City around the same time Editrix II came out, taking a slight step away from music to return to school. Daniel is the only member of Editrix left living in Massachusetts, and performs with the eclectic bands Landowner, Hot Dirt, and The Leafies. Due to Editrix being scattered, the band's new album, The Big E, found them toying with a fresh process. Editrix was quick to write off the idea of collaborating remotely, as the act relishes the warmth of happy accidents that only happen in person. The Big E sparked with Eisenberg, Daniel, and Cameron compiling a list of albums they each admire to establish a self-professed "vibe" up front. King Crimson, My Disco, and Horse Lords were a few key touchstones that shine through, their grounded grooviness balancing erraticism. Eisenberg also found themself infatuated with `70s outlaw country and Van Dyke Parks production. The Big E is titled after a comedic bit between band members, sharing its name with a prominent regional fair in Western Massachusetts, although the title-track aptly features massive E chords. When held up alongside Editrix II _ which found the act toying with Finnish death metal and harsh noise _ The Big E feels settled in its skin. Editrix recorded The Big E with legendary tech death producer Colin Marston (Krallice, Behold_, Dysrhythmia) at his soon-to-be-shuttered studio in Queens. Though these tracks sound toiled over and technical, they are very spontaneous. The majority of The Big E was captured live, with a handful of overdubs added after the fact and came to life over the course of four focused, but rewarding days. Eisenberg uses zen words like "meditative" and "evocative" to describe Editrix's methods, but the end result is crunchy, intricate, and impressively baffling. Easygoing as the band's operation may be, The Big E is a strong jump forward for Editrix inching them towards the center of the avant-rock constellation.

Motel d'amour - A Lost Electro-Funk Gem from the NDW Era Resurfaces

When we first collaborated with Collage member Markus Kammann on the EP project "Mit den Puppen tanzen" at the end of last year, we never imagined what would follow: Kammann approached us with a completely unreleased full-length album by his former band. Upon receiving the first three preview tracks, we were floored. One of them was "Nachtcafé" - a track that kicks off with a funky bassline layered over the punchy rhythm of a Roland TR-808. Add shimmering synths and Katrin A. Kunze's sharp, distinctive vocals, and we instantly knew we were hearing something special.

For a label dedicated to rediscovering lost treasures, this was exactly what we'd been searching for. The next two tracks - "Rendezvous" and "Casanova" - were just as compelling. When Kammann sent us the full album, we realized we were holding an electro-funk grail from the late golden days of the German Neue Deutsche Welle (NDW). We were listening to "Motel d'amour".

"Motel d'amour" is a concept album, offering a sharp, vibrant perspective from a confident, intelligent, and radiant young woman eager to experience nightlife, love, and music. Kunze's lyrics paint vivid scenes of flirtation ("Nachtcafé", "Rendezvous"), encounters with men ("Casanova"), the pulse of nightlife ("Die Nacht ist noch jung"), love ("Rotes Licht für rote Liebe"), one-night stands ("Motel d'amour"), and more. Rarely has a German album from that era captured emotional nuance and social dynamics so insightfully. Without veering into the overly personal, Kunze's direct, daring lyrical style was groundbreaking at the time - and remains refreshingly bold today.

While German listeners will fully appreciate the lyrical depth, the music speaks volumes on its own. Kunze's words are masterfully complemented by the production of Markus Kammann and Jürgen Grah. As heard on the in-demand "Mit den Puppen tanzen", their creativity seemed boundless. Each track is tightly composed, catchy, and full of character. While many German bands at the time leaned into rock, Kammann drew from the deep grooves of Earth, Wind & Fire, The Isley Brothers, Brothers Johnson, The Commodores, and the electro-futurism of Afrika Bambaataa's "Planet Rock" and "Looking for the Perfect Beat". The result: tracks with unmistakable electro-funk flair, powered by the classic 808 drum sound.

Though primarily rooted in funk and electro, the album retains flashes of NDW aesthetics - "Wir haben getanzt heut' Nacht" being a prime example. The instrumentation is a dream list for vintage gear lovers: Yamaha keyboards, Roland Juno-60, vocoder, Micromoog, Hohner D6 Clavinet, Fender bass, and a Telecaster guitar all feature prominently.
Recorded in 1985 at the high-profile Delta Studio by Richard Rossbach, the album attracted interest from Polydor. However, the label proposed using the compositions for a solo project with singer Inga Humpe (of Neonbabies), who was already signed to their roster. This would have required replacing Kunze as the vocalist, an idea the group firmly rejected. As a result, "Motel d'amour" was shelved, and Kammann, Grah, and Kunze moved on to form Cold End.
The album cover features a rare archival photo of Katrin A. Kunze - rediscovered by Kammann and now finally seeing the light of day, 40 years later.

We believe Motel d'amour deserves recognition alongside cult German classics like P!OFF?, 1. Futurologischer Congress' "Wer spricht?", Ami Marie's "Verrückt nach Glück", the funkier cuts of Cosa Rosa, or Piet Klocke's groove classic "Heute ist nicht sonst". It's a record that fits into adventurous DJ sets but also rewards a full, start-to-finish listen.

A note on audio quality: Sadly, the original master tapes were lost. The tracks were restored from a vintage TDK cassette. Thanks to modern digital tools, we were able to remaster them to a high standard - but in some songs light distortions remain. We appreciate your understanding and hope you enjoy this lost and undiscovered gem.

Motel d'amour - A Lost Electro-Funk Gem from the NDW Era Resurfaces

When we first collaborated with Collage member Markus Kammann on the EP project "Mit den Puppen tanzen" at the end of last year, we never imagined what would follow: Kammann approached us with a completely unreleased full-length album by his former band. Upon receiving the first three preview tracks, we were floored. One of them was "Nachtcafé" - a track that kicks off with a funky bassline layered over the punchy rhythm of a Roland TR-808. Add shimmering synths and Katrin A. Kunze's sharp, distinctive vocals, and we instantly knew we were hearing something special.

For a label dedicated to rediscovering lost treasures, this was exactly what we'd been searching for. The next two tracks - "Rendezvous" and "Casanova" - were just as compelling. When Kammann sent us the full album, we realized we were holding an electro-funk grail from the late golden days of the German Neue Deutsche Welle (NDW). We were listening to "Motel d'amour".

"Motel d'amour" is a concept album, offering a sharp, vibrant perspective from a confident, intelligent, and radiant young woman eager to experience nightlife, love, and music. Kunze's lyrics paint vivid scenes of flirtation ("Nachtcafé", "Rendezvous"), encounters with men ("Casanova"), the pulse of nightlife ("Die Nacht ist noch jung"), love ("Rotes Licht für rote Liebe"), one-night stands ("Motel d'amour"), and more. Rarely has a German album from that era captured emotional nuance and social dynamics so insightfully. Without veering into the overly personal, Kunze's direct, daring lyrical style was groundbreaking at the time - and remains refreshingly bold today.

While German listeners will fully appreciate the lyrical depth, the music speaks volumes on its own. Kunze's words are masterfully complemented by the production of Markus Kammann and Jürgen Grah. As heard on the in-demand "Mit den Puppen tanzen", their creativity seemed boundless. Each track is tightly composed, catchy, and full of character. While many German bands at the time leaned into rock, Kammann drew from the deep grooves of Earth, Wind & Fire, The Isley Brothers, Brothers Johnson, The Commodores, and the electro-futurism of Afrika Bambaataa's "Planet Rock" and "Looking for the Perfect Beat". The result: tracks with unmistakable electro-funk flair, powered by the classic 808 drum sound.

Though primarily rooted in funk and electro, the album retains flashes of NDW aesthetics - "Wir haben getanzt heut' Nacht" being a prime example. The instrumentation is a dream list for vintage gear lovers: Yamaha keyboards, Roland Juno-60, vocoder, Micromoog, Hohner D6 Clavinet, Fender bass, and a Telecaster guitar all feature prominently.
Recorded in 1985 at the high-profile Delta Studio by Richard Rossbach, the album attracted interest from Polydor. However, the label proposed using the compositions for a solo project with singer Inga Humpe (of Neonbabies), who was already signed to their roster. This would have required replacing Kunze as the vocalist, an idea the group firmly rejected. As a result, "Motel d'amour" was shelved, and Kammann, Grah, and Kunze moved on to form Cold End.
The album cover features a rare archival photo of Katrin A. Kunze - rediscovered by Kammann and now finally seeing the light of day, 40 years later.

We believe Motel d'amour deserves recognition alongside cult German classics like P!OFF?, 1. Futurologischer Congress' "Wer spricht?", Ami Marie's "Verrückt nach Glück", the funkier cuts of Cosa Rosa, or Piet Klocke's groove classic "Heute ist nicht sonst". It's a record that fits into adventurous DJ sets but also rewards a full, start-to-finish listen.

A note on audio quality: Sadly, the original master tapes were lost. The tracks were restored from a vintage TDK cassette. Thanks to modern digital tools, we were able to remaster them to a high standard - but in some songs light distortions remain. We appreciate your understanding and hope you enjoy this lost and undiscovered gem.

Once again, Riba left everyone bewildered with a work that, on its own, gave early substance to what would eventually be known as roc català, of which Riba may well have been its most authentic representative. The album was recorded in the winter of 1975 with the help of the same group of musicians who had accompanied him a few months earlier at a concert at Zeleste to debut new songs: a mix of Valencian musicians from bands like Paranoia Dea and guitarist Eduardo Bort's group. "Electròccid àccid alquimístic xoc" marks a shift in Pau Riba's sound-now electrified and fully embracing rock with nods to Lou Reed, Ray Davies, and Kevin Ayers, but the core of "Electròccid_" is defined by Riba's own authorship. With lyrics that veer from poetic to absurdly ironic, Riba explores themes like the moon, the stars, death, love, women, the devil, and the bourgeoisie-fueling the originality that made him such a unique artist. It's striking how naturally and effortlessly Riba incorporated the Catalan language into the rock idiom-and vice versa. First vinyl reissue in over four decades!

After the explosive Comme à la radio, infused with the free jazz energy of the Art Ensemble of Chicago, Brigitte Fontaine and Areski Belkacem released six albums together or separately between 1972 and 1977. Their music, often stripped down to voice, guitar, and percussion-or performed a cappella-stood in stark contrast to the orchestrated French pop of the time. This minimalist and spontaneous approach highlighted the poetic power of the lyrics and the intimacy of the melodies, earning them recognition in the counterculture and underground scenes. By the end of the 1970s, Fontaine sought to make her work more visible without losing its originality. The Baraka album marked this transitional moment, initially recorded in a home studio without external musicians. Its title (meaning "blessing" in Arabic) hinted at a desire for success. Mixing introspection, absurd humor, and bold stylistic choices, the album was technically ambitious, featuring stereo duets and layered vocals, and lyrically rich, tackling everything from metaphysical themes to playful nonsense. However, the project ultimately veered off course. After moving the recordings to the massive Studio Davout and bringing in producer and guitarist Martial "Mimi" Lorenzini, the album lost its original intimacy. Overproduced arrangements clashed with the simplicity of Fontaine and Belkacem's initial intent, resulting in an album-renamed Les églantines sont peut-être formidables-that the artists later disowned, refusing to allow its commercial release. Recently rediscovered demo tapes, stripped of their bombastic layers, reveal the raw, emotional core of the songs-showcasing the duo's voices with a rare authenticity. These recordings bridge a missing link in their discography, between their experimental lo-fi years and their later, more accessible work. Decades on, Fontaine and Belkacem remain defiant originals, never settling into a formula, always evolving, and continuing to shake the foundations of French chanson.

After over 50 events of Bristol's beloved Club Blanco, the city's anointed high priest of night, Chez de Milo, is crystallising his party's dimension-hopping hedonism into a label, calling on an extended family of esteemed producers and musicians to make it happen.

First up is Johnny Aux, aka Quinn Whalley (Paranoid London, Sworn Virgins, Decius), delivering two offerings accompanied by remixes from Jamie Paton and Chez de Milo himself.

Supersonic blends a hyperspace bassline with euphoric 90s synth elevation that delivers us to a blissful dance floor crescendo, where you've been dancing for hours—maybe days— when the sun appears over the horizon and pierces through the club's blacked-out windows. Chez de Milo's re-rub wraps you up vines of a living, breathing forest, where all your favourite flora and fauna summon you to the dappled light of a clearing, front left of the booth.

On The Train locks you into a rolling groove, and electro slaps and smacks. It feels covered in equal parts space dust and the dust of an old crate of records, where this forgotten banger has been buried deep for 25 years, waiting for the right hands to pull it out. Jamie Paton veers off down a stranger track, conducting a driving Italo beat with eerie soundscapes dissected by lasers and a brooding bassline.

Zig Zags have been an L.A. institution for over a decade, never veering from their hard-riffin punk/metal mission statement. They’ve gigged all over the globe with underground luminaries such Mike Watt, Neurosis, Pig Destroyer, Oh Sees and Feral Ohms and recorded collaborations with icons like Iggy Pop. Now the power trio is set to release their fifth incendiary full-length album, Deadbeat At Dawn, named in honor of the beloved B-movie, a no-budget action revenge flick set in the mean streets of suburban Ohio. Cult cinema is an enduring Zig Zags inspiration, with the band frequently calling out exploitation films in their lyrics, odes to teen-delinquent classics like “Over the Edge” and dystopian sci-fi such as, “Terminator” and “Total Recall”. The new album sticks to this obsession with the cultural underground, riffing on everything from demonic minions to apocalyptic visions and alien attacks. The result is the most focused, intense, and catchy Zig Zags album yet, with the timing perfect for their distinctly melodic and maniacal call to arms. Finalizing recording and mixing just as the catastrophic fires hit their hometown in L.A., Deadbeat At Dawn is the perfect soundtrack for a city rising up from the ashes of destruction. “I feel lucky that we got to put out this record when we did,” Maheu said, “It’s heavy and gnarly and kind of fucked up, but it’s also a lot of fun—which is how we feel about Los Angeles.”

The Oh Sees wasted no time in racing headlong into nightmarish battle with the mighty Orc, clawing even farther up the ghastly peak stormed so satisfyingly by their previous A Weird Exits. The band is in tour-greased, anvil-on-a-balance beam, gut-pleasingly heavy form, nimbly braining—with equal dashes of abandon and menace—on this fresh batch of bruisers and brooders, hypnotically stirred into to the cauldron of chaos you’ve come to expect. On Orc, fresh blood Paul Quattrone joins Dan Rincon to form a phalanx of interlocking double drums, alternately propelling and fleet-footing shifting ground to pinion John Dwyer’s cliff-face guitars to the boogie. Tim Hellman keeps it swinging like a battle-axe to the eyebrows. The tunes veer toward the violence of their live shows, with a few tasty swerves into other lanes: heavy to lush, groovy to stately. Throughout, it remains sinister in its swaggering skulk, manic in its fuzz-fried fugues. They hit all the sweet spots the heads foggily remember, and there’s plenty to sweat over if you just hopped into the sauna. More evil…more complex…more narcotic…more screech… more blare…more whisper…there’s even more Brigid. Less “Thee,” but more of everything else.

Stylish, intelligent and cinematic, the second series of the cult UK TV series UTOPIA in 2014 reinforced the impact of Emmy Award winning
Series 1 and gained the show an even larger following. Integral to the action is Chilean composer Cristobal Tapia de Veer's original music
for the programme, recognised by the Royal Television Society who awarded it Best Music (Original Score), Record Collector who gave
it five stars and Mojo who placed it at No. 4 in their Top 10 Soundtracks of the year.
This record was originally released for Record Store Day 2015 and is repressed on a new colour by popular demand. Cristobal Tapia de Veer’s
music has more recently found a new audience with his soundtrack to HBO hit show The White Lotus and the film Babygirl (2024).

Ziúr lines up with The Tapeworm for an exclusive cassette-only release featuring Kenichi Iwasa, exploring the electroacoustic realms.

Invited to perform solo at Tarek Atoui's performance series at Kunsthaus Bregenz in October 2024, Ziúr decided to write a new piece for the occasion. This composition, 'Turn Liquid Into Dust', was then performed within the framework of Tarek Atoui's 'Waters' Witness' exhibition as an 8-channel spacial audio piece, transmitting sounds through the installation's structure – metal bars, stones, compost piles… Composed in London in autumn 2024, its principal source of sonic material is recordings of Atoui's instruments which Ziúr had recorded in his studio in Paris during the summer of 2024. In addition, she invited the Japanese woodwind player and virtuoso Kenichi Iwasa to join on all pieces, his contribution providing a binding element, tying the pieces together.

Opener 'A Cold Drip' consists solely of Iwasa's spectral squalls. The tense noir drone of 'Long Call' features a string instrument built by Atoui. For the airy yet dense title track, Ziúr recorded an organ named The Reed Box, with Iwasa floating atop its smoggy soundbed. Closer 'Chips 'n' Crumbles' echos and reverberates with the rattles of household items Ziúr found around her home.

Driven by a relentless appetite for boundless experimentation, Ziúr has been subverting expectations since she was a teenager, corkscrewing through hardcore, metal and punk before veering towards electronic music's turbulent fringes. She produces just like she DJs, gathering a wide variety of ingredients and figuring out the most intriguing, unexpected ways to simmer them into a coherent narrative that helps listeners synchronize the conflicting messages that surround them. Genre isn't a fixed point for Ziúr, but a colour in a vast palette that stretches across history and borders, helping illustrate music that's powerfully subversive. Her The Tapeworm edition follows acclaimed recordings for Planet Mu, PAN, Objects Limited and Hakuna Kulala.

Kenichi Iwasa is a London-based improviser and multidisciplinary artist from Japan, also known for his legendary Krautrock Karaoke night as well as collaborations with visual artists and musicians such as Beatrice Dillon, Maxwell Sterling and Linder Sterling. He currently performs with Naima Karlsson under the name Exotic Sin.

Mit seiner Band Santiano hat Hans-Timm „Timsen“ Hinrichsen nicht weniger als acht #1-Alben in den deutschen Charts platziert. Am 25. April erscheint das Solo-Album: „Vun Hier“
Und doch ist der Sänger ein unglaublich bodenständiger Typ. Die Gründe dafür sind vielfältig – und haben doch alle einen Ursprung: seine Herkunft. Timsen wuchs als Bauernsohn in einem kleinen Dorf auf der schleswig-holsteinischen Geest auf. Noch heute lebt er in einem Dorf in der Nähe von Schleswig.

Seine Heimatverbundenheit ist nicht nur geographisch:
Plattdeutsch ist Timsens Sprache des Herzens und ein wesentlicher Teil seiner Identität. Wenn er zählt, heißt es nicht „Zwei und Zwei ist Vier“ sondern „Twee un Twee sünd Veer“. Mit seinem Soloalbum „Vun hier“ geht Timsen neue Wege und doch zurück zu den Ursprüngen. Ein Album voller Heimatklänge, aber auch voller Offenheit. Timsen zeigt sich hier als eigenständiger Künstler, der Tradition mit neuen Einflüssen verbindet – echt, direkt und ganz vun hier.

'Sexy Tears' is a bold departure from Tristanne's (fka Tristan) critically acclaimed pop-jazz debut Wellif and lets you veer into uncharted territory, from the first tone, the bittersweet and haunting violin tones fade in on opener 'Steady Mouth'. In a split second, Tristanne lets you vanish in a dazzling matrix deep down a rabbit hole, a place where Piero Umiliani's 70s sleazy giallo era sensually resonates with Oneothrix Point Never goldwave frequencies. With a whisper of panting tension, her soothing voice and sonic subliminal temptation she unravels her own lush love secret domain, unlocking deeply hidden lost emotions and mutated feelings.

While mellifluous harp chords in 'If Only' set a scene for a tantalizing new world utopia the percussive clutter of 'Whordus' syncopes and mutate this future dream with a chiastic slide into a videodrome for a jilted generation.

With the help from her musician friends Elisabeth Klinck (violin), Indr? Jurgelevi?i?t? (kanklès), Kaat Vanstralen (flute) and Gert Malfliet (drums), Tristanne's 'Sexy Tears' will hit you straight in the heart, like a modern-day Cupido with a well aimed dazzling sonic arrow. Ready to stay there forever.

Under her stage name Tristanne (formerly known as Tristan), Isolde Van den Bulcke makes music she defines as sitting in a 'grey zone'. By valorizing self-reliance and learning as much as possible from the get-go, the musician and producer hasn't let hardship nor pursuing a niche genre hold her back. She studied jazz vocals for 8 years, released 2 ep's before her debut album 'Wellif' in 2022.

Recommended if you like Piero Umiliani on a Sunday morning, Broadcast on the beach, Oneohtrix Point Never in a romantic mood, Autechre on Ice, Ennio Morricone on LSD, and Pierro Piccioni popping perks.

It’s a decidedly busy time at INVINC HQ at the moment with the 10-year anniversary looming in May.
The six months preceding this date are peppered with a flurry of releases every couple of months, which started with the Mondo Ritmo EP that came in October, the Gamma Knife LP in December and now this brand new album by Sordid Sound System, which lands early March before a rather promising sounding 2xLP compilation lands in May to mark the occasion. 


It’s been a good few years since something by Sordid Sound System aka Stuart Evans has been released on the label and it’s a welcome return. In our opinion it's some of Evans’ best work and so it’s a pleasure to have him back on board the good ship Inc. 


Remarkably, this music is even harder to pigeon-hole than usual...even for Stu, who’s known for his raw, analogue, live takes that veer between dub and post-kraut this is definitely quite "different": part surf acid, part dub, part psych-exotica, part motorik...and that's just the A-side. The B-side leans more towards ambience but of the oddball experimental soundtrack variety...a thoroughly enjoyable ride.
Enjoy the trip.

On his Discrepant debut Memotone aka Bristolian Will Yates collects some unreleased recordings under a most aptly titled name - »Pruning« - following a healthy stream of releases for such esteemed labels as Black Acre, The Trilogy Tapes or Soda Gong.

Considering the process of pruning as a practice of selective removal, the album takes its name at face value never falling into a mere collection of tossed off material or random B-side assemblage, making it a cohesive listen throughout its disparate timeframe and evasions.

A statement about Memotone's vision itself, »Pruning« veers closer to his Fourth World/ECM/Exotica meets Sci-fi transmutations in alignment with what would be expected from a Memotone release on Discrepant. »Moss Zone« briefly sets the tone with a warm but queasy synth bedsheet that flows into the »Weird Figures« cyber- jungle, all small twinkling percussions and rainforest pads slowly rising. 'Riders' brings the synth-flute to an early Warp meets John Hassell's »City: Works of Fiction« scenario that pops up again in more disrupted form on »Wisdom MOTHER«. »Not What I Thought's« skewed tropical guitar gets going on lo-fi percussion and dissonant synth chords while »Jim Starling and The Inverse Church« bring to mind »Autoditacker« era Mouse on Mars going jazz-fusion. Or what we should expect from their Smalltown Supersound stint. »Beach Scene« is exactly it, as the sun sets into »Come In Don't Mind the Ghost« summer night's stars with all the allure of Stereolab.

Alluring, that's exactly it. Do come in.

Haii Usagi is a two piece electronic/exerimental band from Columbia, MO

Members consist of Pete Hansen (Drums and Keyboards) and Eric Burch (Keyboards,
Synths, and Programming).

"Electro-thrash, calling up the ghost of Brainiac, sans vocals and guitar. Haii Usagi brings
the bleeps and blips that drives and veers as opposed to superficially just addressing
your need to dance the night away". - Beer and Pavement
"Haii Usagi approaches it with an emphasis on songcraft, focusing on the hook rather
than the tracks being simply a groove you can dance to. They also manage to hint at a
number of styles from rock to ambient while staying true to their electronic vision. I
know some of the more punk than thou types may find problems with Haii Usagi's
sound, but for those willing to open their minds you'll find a group who manages to make
their own vision of what the genre should be and proves that not all electronic dance
music has to sound generic". - TTWN

Its sound veers away from raw black metal intensity, opting for expansive, dreamy
atmospheres. Damian Anton Ojeda's signature approach tempers the harshness of
black metal's usual bleakness with a delicate sense of beauty and melancholy. The
album builds around shimmering guitars and lush soundscapes, creating a sense of
longing rather than the frostbitten aggression typically associated with the genre.
A key characteristic of "I Want to Be There" is how the screamed vocals--reminiscent
of depressive black metal--are mixed to blend seamlessly with the instrumental layers.
This intentional obscuring of vocals, pushed toward the back, transforms the vocals
into another textural element rather than a dominant force. This aesthetic decision
diffuses the emotional weight usually carried by extreme metal vocals, steering the
listener away from despair and toward introspection.
The balance between black metal's darker elements and post-rock's ethereal qualities
gives this record its emotional depth. The opening and closing tracks, "In the Distant
Travels" and the title track, lean more heavily on black metal structures but never fully
embrace the genre's typical harshness. Instead, the fuzzy guitars and crashing
cymbals are imbued with hope and uplifting energy. The post-rock influence becomes
more pronounced in tracks like "I Want to Be With You," which forgoes black metal
vocals entirely in favor of a choral atmosphere, evoking a serene and heavenly quality.
Ojeda also demonstrates his talent for creating immersive soundscapes, drawing
comparisons to *Sigur Ros*. Both artists employ sweeping melodies that evoke
feelings of transcendence. Still, where *Sigur Ros* tends to embrace more overtly
uplifting and sentimental tones, Sadness anchors these grand moments in
melancholy, avoiding overindulgence. The album is a delicate dance between light and
shadow, making the listening experience emotionally rich and layered.
While it may not have the raw emotional punch of *Deafheaven* or the nostalgic
charm of *Alcest*, *I Want to Be There* stands as a polished and thoughtfully
composed entry into the post-blackgaze genre. Ojeda's ability to fuse the weightless
hypnosis of black metal with the airy beauty of post- rock results in a sound that is
both familiar and new. Sadness offers a captivating and often beautiful exploration of
blackgaze, making the album a worthwhile listen for fans of atmospheric and
introspective metal.

Limited vinyl release for aya's 2021 Hyperdub-debut album, a one-time pressing on Ecomix random colour-mix recycled vinyl. Originally released in 2021 as a book and digital album, im hole is now presented on ecomix splatter-effect vinyl. A welcome reminder ahead of new aya music in 2025. On im hole, aya distilled the incisive sonic experimentation of her early run of releases, the tongue-in-cheek giggles of her DJ sets and edits, and the identity-fluxing lyricism of her live shows. The album was immediately championed from all corners, 'Best New Music' in Pitchfork to DJ Mary Anne Hobbs Album of the Year, followed by incredible live shows which drew new listeners further into the net. Contorting language, dialect, gender and sexuality between intermittently controlled bursts of rhythm, noise and aural goop, aya sculpted a set of autobiographical vignettes that challenge established norms, question supposed truths, and affirm a spectrum of interlocking experiences. But while it's wide open and personal, im hole also challenges queer art's tendency to veer towards repetitive solipsism. Even the title itself references the unwieldy mix of self-actualization and sexualization that bogs down cultural perceptions of the trans experience. It's neither one thing nor t'other, just as much a sly nod to dissociative afterparty sloppiness as it is any self-congratulatory pinkwashed grandstanding. The music follows suit, fragmenting familiar sounds, twinned with familiar words, assembled in unfamiliar ways, full of sharp humour, even in the middle of despair. Stories are muddled with phonetics just as dubstep is macrodosed with microtonal drone.










j B4. If [redacted] Thinks He's Having This As A Remix He Can Frankly Do One

Yuksek Releases Second Album Titled "ii" Under His DESTIINO Alias on Lumière Noire. Driven by a desire to expand and in some way reinvent himself and his sound the album veers between downbeat, ambient house, a dark strain of disco and industrial electronica.

Prolific Norwegian trumpeter and ECM veteran Arve Henriksen returns with Estonian guitarist/composer Robert Jürjendal in tow, matching his idiosyncratic shakuhachi-style melodic condensations with Jürjendal's glassy electro-acoustic soundscapes and sonorous percussion.

Henriksen releases a lot but is remarkably reliable; his playing is so versatile that hearing it dematerialise into different ensembles and individual methodologies is always a treat. Jürjendal is a veteran guitarist, but doesn't approach his instrument from a purely classical standpoint, taking a Fripp-inspired path towards texture, processing and looping his sounds until they're barely recognisable. The duo share a similar love for Hassell's Fourth World ambience, and here inject new life into that mood.

Jürjendal's percussion is impressive: he offsets cascades of oddly-tuned electronics on 'Tuonela' with booming, ritualistic tom hits that punctuate Henriksen's melancholy phrases; and on the brilliant 'Ancient Bells', plays a set of gongs and gamelan-style instruments, creating swirling hammered tonal clusters that quiver beneath Henriksen's echoed-out, spirited improvisations. It's not always that corporeal, either; on 'A Remarkable Flow', he loops guitar phrases, creating gentle vibrations that rumble in the background while he mirrors Henriksen's pitchy zig-zags with high-pitched oscillator vamps.

Even on the peaceable 'Miraculous Lake', discreet kalimba loops set a celestial tempo that anchors the duo's gaseous soundscapes. And although they veer towards end-credits loveliness on the Göttsching-influenced 'Reunion Hymn', it’s balanced by the album's darker passages, like 'Rebirth' and 'Another Me'. On the latter, Henriksen's trumpet is transformed into a voice-like warble, while Jürjendal replies with glacial E-bowed drones that resonate creepily alongside his lysergic FM pads.

Born in Zary and currently based in Poznan, Julia Rover is a singer, songwriter, and DJ. She has been active on the music scene for several years. She has recorded several tracks, performed numerous concerts, and collaborated on productions with other artists. All this inevitably led to what has just happened-her debut EP.
"Co z Toba" ("What's happening with you?" ) is the first entirely new and original (no samples!;) release in the label's catalog, simultaneously inaugurating the series The Very Polish Originals.
This record tells a story on multiple levels. The lyrics reflect tales of relationships. Of emotions. Of questions. Of dilemmas. Of disappointments. Of hopes. Of cold breakups and passionate reunions. The musical layer is also a kind of storytelling, only expressed through different means. Each track musically corresponds with the lyrics, the singing style, and the interpretation.The music complements the lyrics, embedding them in a mood-appropriate "setting."
The EP opener "Co z Tob??" moves within the climate of coldwave basslines. After that comes "Sen" (Dream), veering into territories closer to '80s synth-pop. As it fades, we catch our "Oddech" (Breath) at a slower tempo reminiscent of italo or rather neo-italo styles. We remain 3-4 decades behind. However, this journey does not feel regressive. Instead, it's reinterpretative. Constantly immersed in the DNA of the label, which has been bringing the best of musical history to light for years. The fourth and final track on the record slows down almost into a dark, psychedelic, leftfield ballad, slowly floating towards the '90s. It carries.
And that's almost everything. But it's worth getting here. Because at the end, as a sort of postscript, the title track "Co z Tob??" reappears in a danceable version. So, as it began, so it ends. Just more acid-like.

The third album Fort Sensible by Brisbane alt-rockers Tape/Off is a genuine labour of love, a passionate dose of opinionated heart-on-sleeve rock’n’roll representing not just a place but a time with its cache of meticulously-crafted guitars, robust rhythms and socially-conscious lyrics mining both the personal and the political.

While musically they veer seamlessly between intricacy and intensity their words cut straight to the quick, the songs caustic and catchy in equal measure, making Fort Sensible by far the most ambitious and accessible album in the band’s storied decade-plus history.

Tape/Off’s first two albums - Chipper (2014) and Broadcast Park (2018) - were both longlisted for the prestigious Australian Music Prize, yet Fort Sensible takes the tried and tested Tape/Off aesthetic to a whole new level as the band seek to both share the creative load and fully harness their innate collective chemistry.

The guitars of Nathan Pickels and Ben Green weave together like an electric tapestry, the resultant soundscapes both intricate and ambitious whilst still entirely capable of busting out massive riffs with the best of them, their inherent simpatico now built upon by years of experience playing off each other. From a rhythmic perspective Tape/Off's propulsive drummer Branko Cosic's immense power and Cameron Smith's robust, expressive basslines combine to provide the perfect rhythmic bottom-end throughout the record.

Excitingly Tape/Off's sonic palette has been broadened substantially on the new album, with Pickels' angry and angst-laden diatribes throughout Fort Sensible now augmented by Green and Smith taking vocal turns at junctures, adding a whole new dynamic and dimension to proceedings.

At a time when our leaders seem lacking and the world needs the redemptive powers of art and music more than ever, Tape/Off announce themselves as a serious force to be reckoned with the uncompromising power and beauty of Fort Sensible!

Free jazz poetry by a spry, 85 year old Joe McPhee, adapting his renowned improvised practice to words - juxtaposed with Mats Gustafson’s sparing brass and electric gestures. It’s an utterly timeless and transfixing salvo, another shiny notch for Smalltown Supersound’s Le Jazz Non Series.

As a common ligature to the OG free jazz scene of ‘60s NYC, with formative binds to its European offshoots and the experimental avant garde, Joe McPhee is a true force of nature who has represented jazz at its freest over a remarkable lifetime. In duo with Swedish free jazz and noise standard bearer Mats Gustafson, he upends expectations with an astonishingly vivid and upfront example of his enduring contribution to freely improvised music. In 11 parts he variously reflects on everything from the neon sleaze and scuzz of NYC to contemporary US politicians and laugh out loud imitations of his previous sparring partners such as Peter Brötzmann, with a head-slapping immediacy that leaves you reeling, spellbound.

McPhee’s flow of rare, organic cadence, ranging from urgent to contemplative and dreamlike, is blessed with a unique turn-of-phrase that surely mirrors his decades of instrumental work. Gustafsson, meanwhile, dextrously takes up the mantle with a multi-instrumental spectrum of sounds, leaving McPhee unbound and able to float and sting on the mic. There’s obvious wisdom in his perceptively penetrative observations, as derived from a rich cultural life well spent, but also a playful naivety and levity in his ability to veer from almost melodic speech to explosive aggression and a knowing, bathetic wit. It’s perhaps hard to believe that McPhee only started incorporating and performing spoken word in his work in the past ten years, a half century since his declaration of “What Time Is It‽” announced his arrival on a legendary debut ‘Nation Time’ (1971), ushering in one of free jazz’s most singular characters in the process.

Oscillating between discordant reflections on life as a touring musician, set to Gustafsson’s skronk and culminating in a snort-worthy imitation of Peter Brötzmann’s gruff German accent, on ‘Short Pieces’ or the glowering growl and noise exhortations of ‘Guitar’, he evokes a more sweetly consonant calm in ‘When I Grow Up’ and eerie threat of ‘The Dreams Book’, and viscerality of ‘Disco Death’, where Gustafson’s tonal versatility comes into hugely mutable play, whilst McPhee’s extraordinary, unaffected voice is a constant. It’s perhaps McPhee’s balance of cool measuredness and wellspring of barbed energies that allows us, at least, to get the most out of this one; not stifling with mannered or manicured enunciation that can trigger certain icks; keeping close to the nature of spoken word in a way that avoids cliche and becomes inherently critical of it within his purposeful, non-hesitant clarity and unflinching approach.

Cold Blow proudly presents Bonus Beats: Rare & Unreleased Finnish Electro 1990–2002, a landmark compilation capturing Finland's underground electro scene from the late 1990s and early 2000s. This double-LP features 9 rare and 3 previously unreleased tracks from pioneering Finnish artists, showcasing a distinctly Nordic approach to the genre. With contributions from notable names such as Jori Hulkkonen, Mr. Velcro Fastener, Mono Junk, and the late Mika Vainio, this release highlights the experimental and DIY ethos that defined Finland's electronic music scene during this period.

Carefully curated by Erkko Lehtinen, a key figure in Finland's electro scene as a DJ and promoter, the compilation explores a broad sonic palette, spanning early techno influences, robotic allure, and dark, bass-heavy tracks. Standout contributions include Decepticons and Dr. Robotnik's unreleased dark electro cuts, with the latter veering into minimal wave territory. Feng Shui feat. Monsieur delivers a striking collaboration that fuses a trance-like lead with raw, industrial beats, uniting members of Huoratron, Nu Science, Polytron, and Op:l Bastards. Keeping alive the legacy of Perttu Häkkinen (aka Randy Barracuda), this release wouldn't be complete without Imatran Voima's bass-driven anthem from their debut EP. Also featured are Spektor's retro synth experiments, Tero's Commodore 64-based creations, Brothomstates' (later a Warp signee) futuristic soundscapes, and a rare cover of Kraftwerk's The Model by the anonymous duo Markus & Kristian. Erkko's extensive liner notes provide additional insight into this culturally and musically significant era. Available in double-LP, this collection is a must-have for electronic music aficionados and vinyl collectors.










j 10: Feng Shui - Hao Hao (I`m Back) feat. Monsieur

Merzbild Schwet, the second album opus released in 1980, is considered one of Nurse With Wound's major releases, and is part of the famous "Silver Edition" on Rotorelief Records, with a luxurious chrome-plated cover in double Gatefold sleeves, and sumptuous 200g vinyl discs issued in 300 copies on silver and black vinyl, and 700 copies on black vinyl.

The first track, Futurismo, begins with clanking rhythms, record skip clicks, and horn riffs before veering off into a crazed quilt of women singing, laughing, and talking in French. About halfway through, wild screeches of distortion disrupt the piece, and then more bizarre sounds take over before the piece ends with a collage of over modulated electronic hum and rambling piano. The other cut, Dada X, goes further into weirdness with lots of silences, creepy creaking noises, tones that build up and collapse, and scattered spoken word in French and English from Eve Libertine from the political punk band Crass, and the piece certainly lives up to the Dada of its title.

Recorded quickly between John Cale producing Patti Smith's Horses and his going out on an Italian tour, Helen of Troy became Cale's third and final studio album for Island Records - This re-issue faithfully replicates the original 1975 Island Records UK release and is pressed onto high quality 180g vinyl. Helen Of Troy is a raw, fascinating listen. The title track with its horns and spoken word is one of Cale's best: after the sweet bubblegum of "China Sea", the album gets increasingly stripped down the acoustic guitar and piano of "Cable Hogue" and the punkish cover of The Modern Lovers' "Pablo Picasso" have long been favourites on the album. "Leaving It All Up To You" in which Cale becomes increasingly disturbed garnered controversy at the time and was actually removed from later pressings of the album because of its references to the Manson murders. Cale never lost his ability to shock. Taking its title from the opening line of Johnny Cash's "I Walk The Line", "I Keep A Close Watch", a track Cale would record again several years later, with its Robert Kirby-arranged strings and horns, is the closest Cale has veered toward a power ballad. It is a work of great beauty among all the jagged edges of Helen Of Troy.