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This new Mysteries drop is pure Mental Neo Hard Trance! Bringing you 4 producers that at the moment are pushing their own style thereby referencing oldschool HardTrance and PsyTrance - in a good way minus the cringy cheese. Gateway tunnel vision stuff, mental in the true sense.
A: Eat Your Mind & L'Enfant D'La Plèbe – Up Into The Ether, 33 rpm; Pulse 160
A 15 Minute epic journey into the upper spheres of the ether with a superb break and a completely new track beginning, screams of ecstasy guaranteed. Sublime!
B1: Neurotribe – Thetra 6:41 Pulse 165
A driver to push the crowd forward, pure dancefloor energy! Stripped down for efficiency the track is building the tension and ascending the stairway to full Noom. Commander Tom would approve.
B2: Pneumatix – The Return Of Mich 7:05 Pulse 170
A driving minimal workout, heavily tinted with Psytrance swirls. Focusing on a few outstanding sound sculptures, bringing them to the front, holographic and vivid. A finely calibrated system will drive the audience crazy. Be careful with the minds of other people, license required.
12“ Vinyl release is limited to 300 copies, includes digi-codes and comes in a unique full cover artwork with 2 sided inlay /poster and sticker by Darkam and TDSiGNZ,
Mastering Stefan ZMK. Transparent blue vinyl.
Mastering: Stefan ZMK
Artwork: Darkam

Cloud Management return to Altin Village & Mine for a unique collaboration with New York writer and creative polymath Vivien Goldman.

A pairing spanning generations and geography, but with a musical overlap that is quite fitting in both process and result. Cloud Management’s jammy, improvisational approach to their dubby electronics blends well with Goldman’s idiosyncratic vocal style, which has its origins in the early days of post–punk and UK dub experimentalism. Cloud Management blend many historical aspects of German electronic music into something distinctly their own, while retaining a view well beyond those borders or any particular era. This approach fits well with Goldman’s deep multidisciplinary career, not easily defined because of its eclectic abundance across disciplines, yet always orbiting around music as its foundation.

When it comes down to it, these are great tracks created in the same way they sound: loose but refined, circling and turning inwards and outwards, back onto themselves. A dub of a dub of a dub, but never falling too far from the source — the minimalism necessary to deliver a direct, steady resolve and a gripping listen.

The B–Side of the record features three remixes by artists from across the globe, all with strong connections to the front line of dancehall, dub, and electronic music experimentalism. Longtime Equiknoxx member Time Cow from Kingston (Jamaica), delivers a version of »Quick Cover Up« that represents a major overhaul of the original. This remix strips away much of the looseness of the source material and leans into a lush yet slightly darker atmosphere, created by layered synths and a masterful use of underlying percussion and melodic stabs.

Up next are Twin Cities, Minnesota–based Feel Free Hi Fi, who take on »Judge Judge.« The duo tighten things up, overlaying weighty vintage string synths and digi–flute melodies. This version feels designed for smoky, late–night dub sound system sessions, harkening back to dub’s foundations.

Last but not least is London’s Pat Orburn. Stripped way down, the remix rides an interplay between alternating minimalism and a more lo-fi but lush exuberance, somewhat reminiscent of a bossa nova–esque minimal synth sound. This version’s lo–fi pop sensibility provides a fitting contrast and completes an eclectic yet copacetic trio of remixes for the record.

Schatterau’s third album, »Wir gingen durch leere Stunden« (We went through empty hours), sees the German duo blossoms with beauty and sophistication through a broad creative language.

This opus, presented in the form of vivid auditory tableaux vivants, explores the topography of memory as a landscape in constant motion – full of loops, feedbacks, and mirage-like distortions. Sounds climbing like vines over old walls, concealing details only to reveal new ones. Some pieces feel like fragments of a dream whose origin has vanished, others like displaced echoes of a day long gone.

Memories create paths that only become visible in retrospect – detours that somehow always lead back to oneself. Each track draws the listener into a different recollection, as if opening an old door. Inside, time behaves strangely: it jumps, stretches, and repeats.

»Wir gingen durch leere Stunden« ultimately presents Schatterau at their most experimental, complex and measured extremes, channelling ambiguous human emotional resonance ranging from melancholy to pure ecstasy.

Courtney Marie Andrews has long been celebrated as an artist who challenges herself, and who finds new interplays of Folk and Americana.. Also a vivid poet and accomplished painter, she brings a multidisciplinary richness to her work that shines throughout her 9th studio album, Valentine. Co-produced with Jerry Bernhardt and recorded almost entirely to tape, the album features complete in-studio performances that prize raw performance rather than perfection. It is Andrews’s most sonically explorative record thus far – she plays flute, high strung guitars, myriad synths, and draws heavy inspiration from her art outside of music. Her voice is gorgeous and acrobatic always, but on Valentine it finds a new depth, an assertiveness that brings new dimension to its biggest anthems and its softest moments. Written during a period of profound endings and new beginnings, Valentine is a vulnerable exploration of love vs. limerence. While anticipating the imminent loss of a loved one who would eventually recover, a new but uncertain romance began to develop. Rather than lift her up, the two emotional poles seemed to bleed into each other to sow doubt, trouble, even obsession. But through her own exploration of music and art, Andrews found a way to grow stronger inside this feeling. “I didn’t want to slink into my pain, I wanted to embrace it, own it” she says. The songs that emerged are devotional in their lyrics but defiant in their energy; it’s the very sound of a woman standing in her first wisdom. With Valentine, Andrews rejects the objectification of love, the love filled with gestures and objects instead of trust, mess, and growth. In doing so, she delivers her most beautiful and loving album to date.

Fresh from releasing projects on Method 808 and Future Classic, landing a huge collaboration with Chloé Caillet, and delivering an official remix for Fatboy Slim, PPJ are entering a new chapter in full force. Their expansive take on global street sounds, ranging from neoperreo to Miami bass, gets a cool re-coating.

Led by the magnetic vocalist Páula, with production from Povoa (individually supported by Four Tet, Ben UFO, and Barry Can't Swim, with recent releases on Live From Earth), the duo operates in maximalist mode: playful, sensual, and slightly unhinged.PPJ’s new era, JOKER, embraces a figure that appears everywhere from card decks to carnival culture as a symbol that mirrors their own DNA: funny, eerie, seductive, unpredictable. The EP leans further into club territory, but rather than polishing their edges, PPJ amplify them.

At the emotional core of the record sits “Coeur,” co-produced with Chloé Caillet. It begins with an MPB-tinged foundation flirting with bossa nova. It’s unmistakably Brazilian, bathed in sunset hues before being sped up and twisted into a dance-floor-ready electronic form. The groove shimmers with tension: warm percussion, elastic basslines, and Páula’s voice hovering between intimacy and tease. It feels like a remix of itself, romantic, but slightly untrustworthy.

If “Coeur” glows, “To Nem Ai” is a slow burner. A very deep and downtempo house cut, it unfolds slowly, almost luxuriously, guided by sensual vocals that feel whispered directly into the ear of the listener. A hypnotizing piano sample that feels like a late-night confession. It’s the kind of record that transforms a dancefloor into something tactile.

Elsewhere, “Me Pega” is a high-energy reinterpretation of the tech-house sounds from Santa Catarina, one of southern Brazil’s most feverish party states, twisted and accelerated for ferocious impact. Drawing direct inspiration from Sarro, a raw and vibrant Brazilian street dance, the track captures physical intensity in its purest form: sweat, bass pressure, collective release.

Its counterpart, “Tem Carnaval” channels Páula’s vivid storytelling into a thunderous ode to Rio’s carnival spirit, euphoric, chaotic, cinematic landed just in time for this year’s celebrations.

On “Sexy Doce,” rugged electroclash melodies collide with unexpected references. “It was inspired by Budots, which is dance music from the streets in the Philippines,” Povoa explains. “Then we mixed it with Páula’s Brazilian vocals. Baile funk is similarly from the streets, so there is a connection.” The result is raw yet futuristic, a cross-continental flirtation that feels both underground and explosive.

With this new EP, PPJ make music like they’re tuning into a dozen pirate frequencies at once. Pirate radio from Rio to Berlin to Manila intercepting fragments of street culture, sensuality, and chaos, and stitching them into something deliriously cohesive.
JOKER doesn’t just nod to club culture. It challenges it, twists expectation and leaves a lasting impression.

Fog On Mirror Glass introduces a new aesthetic amongst Donald Beaman albums. After four albums of varied full-band arrangements, this album emerged as an idea to present solo performances in conversation with full-band work. The bulk of the songs were recorded in the same place they were written: Beaman’s living room. Long time bandmate and producer Kirt Lind set up a makeshift studio at Beaman’s house to record the guitar parts in the same room where they were written, using the same guitars on which they were first played.

Unfurling with a measured pace, the resulting album combines elegiac lyrics with elemental arrangements played with an almost jazz-like reverential expressiveness, calling to mind the works of Cass McCombs, Will Oldham, and Jake Xerxes Fussell. Album opener “Glass Bottom Boat” sets the tone for the album with just Beaman and his guitar – written during the final months of a decade-long stay in New York City, the song was finished upon his arrival back in California. Meanwhile the title track, long a staple in live sets, lands near the middle of the album to recalibrate the mood, featuring the ghostly guitar work of longtime collaborator Ken Lovgren. “Old Universe” lifts things up a bit, propelled by the brushwork of drummer Michael Nalin and the jaunty bass playing of Kirt Lind. Finally, the album ends much the way it began, with Beaman and his guitar on album closer “Bamboo”.

“The dictionary definition of less is more.” - ---- Mojo
“His ability to carve universal empathy from mundane domesticity is remarkable.” - ---- RNR Magazine
“...a collection of evocative scenes and vivid emotions sung to sparse musical arrangements in Beaman’s distinctive sonorous tones” - Americana UK
“...pure and simmering, like a tattoo dedicated to a long lost friend, slightly fading from years in the sun, a memory that will always bring a tear in those quiet reflective moments.” - Psychedelic Baby Magazine

“Salvation for the Wicked” unites Ransom, Boldy James, and producer Nicholas Craven for a gritty, soul-soaked showcase of sharp lyricism and minimalist, dust-laced production. Ransom and Boldy trade vivid, hard-earned reflections over Craven’s haunting loops, joined by standout features from Young Chris and OT The Real. Now on vinyl, the project’s warmth and texture hit even deeper, giving the raw performances and timeless sound the space they deserve in a format built to be felt as much as heard.

A personal record for Mike shaped by memory, places, and renewal. Walking the streets of his birthplace, St. Louis, Zito reconnects with the sounds, stories, and hard lessons that forged his signature blend of soul-driven blues and fearless storytelling. Thirteen years after Gone to Texas, this album feels like a defining moment, marking a new chapter for Mike, his family, and a life reclaimed in the city that started it all. The songs paint vivid snapshots of city life and personal reckoning, from late- night regret and self-awareness to raw portraits of neighbourhood survival and street-level truth. Tracks like "Downtown at Midnight" and "Grand Avenue" capture the grit, temptation, and consequences of the past with unflinching honesty, grounding the album in lived experience and emotional weight . Zito's writing is direct and cinematic, pairing tough reflection with compassion and hard-earned wisdom.

At its heart, Outside Or The Eastside is a celebration of second chances, an album dedicated to better days, family, friendship, love, and joy found in everyday moments. Life's unpredictable paths open doors you never expect, and for Mike Zito, this record embraces that truth with warmth, humour, and swagger. It's a record about choosing connection over chaos and moving forward with gratitude, purpose, and the volume turned up

‘Since the 16th century, the Ecuadorian province of Esmeraldas has been home to a unique Afro-Indigenous culture originating in the integration of the Indigenous Chachi and Nigua peoples with African Maroon communities. Juyungo documents significant Esmeraldan artists and bands playing the Afro-Ecuadorian folklore of the province, as well as including some older field recordings. Based mostly on the marimba, whose origins lie partly in the African balafon, partly in Indigenous percussion instruments, the music is laced with call and response chants, ambient insect and bird noise, the filigree finger-styles of the Andean guitar tradition and the panpipes of the mountains. This is resonant insider roots music at its headiest — the mystic revelation of Esmeraldas, gully deep and lustral.’
- Francis Gooding, The Wire.


The fifth in our series of LPs compiling classic music from Ecuador. Customary Honest Jons runnings: a beautiful gatefold sleeve; superior pressing, with vivid, intimate sound; full-size, sixteen-page booklet, in colour throughout, with detailed, fascinating, bi-lingual notes, and stunning photographs.

The music is transfixing, magical; not like anything else. From start to finish, this album is continuously, profoundly immersive; a kind of journeying, trippy meditation about slavery and cultural resistance, identity and mix, places and spaces, futures and pasts. It’s inscrutable to net-surfing, algorithms, Shuffle. But for a taste try the insurgent marimba roller Agua Largo, jet-propelled by Rosa Huila’s rapturous blend of African spiritualist and Christian chant. ‘Healing music,’ Zakia called it on Gilles Peterson’s BBC show recently. And the ravishing pasillo Kasilla Shungulla — ‘calm your heart’ in the Quichua language — a duet between the Peruvian master-guitarist Raúl García Zárate and viola da gamba by Juan Luis Restrepo from Medellin, recorded in a baroque church in Buzbanza, Colombia.

FOLLOWING THE SUCCESS OF “THE OTHER HELL”, GOBLIN ARE BACK FOR RECORD STORE DAY 2026 WITH AN EXCLUSIVE COMPILATION OF SINGLES RELEASED BETWEEN 1975 AND 1979!

For the very first time on vinyl, this compilation gathers together all the singles released by Goblin during their golden era between 1975 and 1979, a journey that begins with the explosive, legendary debut Profondo Rosso, a true chart phenomenon of its time, and reaches the rare Amo Non Amo, passing through unforgettable milestones of Italian film music and progressive rock.

The collection opens with Profondo Rosso and Death Dies, taken from the soundtrack of Dario Argento’s masterpiece that catapulted Goblin to fame, blending dark atmospheres, virtuosity, and a unique sense of cinematic tension. It continues with Roller and Snip Snap, drawn from the instrumental album Roller (1976), a record not tied to any film, yet considered a cult cornerstone of Italian progressive music for its intricate structures and expressive power.

Chi? and Chi? - Parte Seconda follow; two tracks originally composed as the theme for a 1976 RAI television show, which saw Goblin bring their unmistakable sound to a different medium, experimenting within a shorter, punchier format.

Next comes Suspiria with its haunting counterpart Blind Concert, from the soundtrack of Argento’s 1977 horror classic. This remains one of Goblin’s most iconic and unsettling works, where music becomes an active narrative force: hypnotic, percussive, and filled with eerie vocal layers that made it a cornerstone of horror soundtracks worldwide.

From Il Fantastico Viaggio del Bagarozzo Mark (1978) come Un Ragazzo d’Argento and Opera Magnifica, two tracks that highlight the band’s more conceptual and visionary side, a move away from cinema toward a self-contained narrative and progressive experimentation.

The single Yell stands as another late-decade gem. Originally composed as the opening theme for the RAI television series “Sette storie per non dormire” (1978), it captures Goblin’s ability to merge rock energy with electronic pulse, proving their versatility far beyond the horror realm.

The compilation closes with Amo Non Amo and Funky Top, taken from the soundtrack of the 1979 film Amo Non Amo, one of the group’s lesser-known but fascinating cinematic works.

Far more than a simple anthology, The Singles Collection 1975–1979 maps the evolution of Goblin’s sound, from the worldwide success of Profondo Rosso to their most mature and experimental phase. It finally restores to vinyl a body of work that had long been scattered across rare 45 rpm releases, offering fans and collectors a complete, vivid portrait of one of Italy’s most inventive and influential musical ensembles.

One of the longest standing figures amidst the Discrepant wolfpack, the unstoppable alias of sound collector Laurent Jeanneau returns to the fold 2 years after 'Tanzania II' with this 2.0 update of the celebrated 'The Lisu' sort-of-mixtape released way back in 2014.

Based on recordings of music from the Lisu communities in China and Thailand captured on site, this mix shows Gong more like a selector or dj, restricting electronic processing to a bare minimum in order to convey different histories, places and timeframes within the same mesmerising continuum. A respectful and deeply vivid evocation of all the richness and diversity found among the different strands of lisu music, from ceremonial vocal incantations through a chibeu string instrument "processed" in loco through saturated street speakers to moments of pure poetic radiance, 'The Lisu' flows gracefully with the keen sense of wonder and knowledge of one of this century's most thoughtful and insightful sonic travellers.

Un Canto por México, Vol. 1 is the eighth studio album by Natalia Lafourcade. The album was part of a project destined for the reconstruction of the Centro de Documentatión del Son Jarocho at Jáltipan de Morelos, a cultural building that was damaged after 2017 Puebla earthquake on 19 September 2017.

The album was a great success and gave Lafourcade three Latin Grammy Awards and the album also won the Best Regional Mexican Music Album at the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards.

Un Canto por México, Vol. 1 is available as a limited edition of 2000 individually numbered copies on yellow vinyl, packaged in a gatefold sleeve, with printed inner sleeves

The recordings on Volume II were captured in Copenhagen, Denmark on January 18, 2020. Guided as much by human instinct as by musical intention, the ensemble moved through the evening with a shared sensitivity…listening, responding, and trusting the moment as it unfolded. Though Morten McCoy admits to having felt quite ill that evening, nothing in the music suggests restraint. Instead, what remains is a vivid, playful exchange, where McCoy and Johannes Wamberg carry both Part I and Part II as a flowing conversation, speaking through sound rather than words.

Part I begins abruptly, almost throwing the listener back in time to the exact moment the improvisation was born. Jonathan Bremer steps to the forefront, providing a solid, melodic bassline as Kristoffer and Eliel, perfectly in sync, lay down a steady foundation for whichever voice chooses to rise above the rhythm.

This is also one of the few I Am An Instrument recordings to feature two guitarists. Johannes Wamberg leads the way, shaping the harmonic direction, while Steven Jess Borth II adds subtle rhythmic textures through muted palm work, deepening the groove without ever stepping into the foreground.

Part II unfolds with Morten McCoy on his Moog One, delivering a beautiful, expansive solo. Using a carefully chosen patch, the sound pulses through the rhythm, moving with the groove rather than above it, riding the beat like a wave through the ocean.
Shaped by trust, presence, and collective improvisation, Volume II captures a group deeply attuned to one another, allowing intuition and momentum to guide the unfolding form.
——
Volume III was recorded in Copenhagen on March 5, 2020. Little did anyone know that only days later, the world would be placed on pause for years. Captured just before that moment of global stillness, this session carries a heightened sense of presence, a final gathering before silence reshaped everything. Recorded in a space more commonly associated with a club atmosphere, the music draws on a different kind of energy and immediacy. With Eliel Lazo unable to attend, the group invited Victor Dybbroe of Girls In Airports to join on percussion, subtly reshaping the ensemble while preserving its core spirit. Part I opens with Steven Jess Borth II calling out on tenor saxophone, answered by Morten McCoy on Wurlitzer electric piano. The piece gradually unfolds into a meditative groove, patient and expansive, carrying the listener through an eight-minute journey of layered rhythm and restraint.

Part II begins with Jonathan Bremer on stand up bass, slowly joined by the rest of the ensemble as each voice enters with intention. Midway through, an unexpected vocal melody from Borth emerges, drenched in reverb and delay, later reappearing as a melodic line on the tenor saxophone.

Part III is led by Morten McCoy on Wurlitzer electric piano. His signature melodic language sets the direction, guiding the ensemble while leaving ample space for the music to breathe and evolve through collective improvisation. Reprise returns to the closing moments of Part II, its title reflecting its origin. The familiar groove reappears, transformed into a distinctly Jamaican-influenced rhythm, over which Borth delivers a final tenor saxophone solo, bringing the conversation to rest.

Any questions about any of these products feel free to get in touch and we'll help you out!

[a] a1. Part I [Vol.2]
[b] a2. Part II [Vol.2]
[c] a3. Part I [Vol.3]
[d] b1. Part II [Vol.3]
[e] b2. Part III [Vol.3]
[f] b3. Reprise [Vol.3]

Un Canto por México, Vol. 1 is the eighth studio album by Natalia Lafourcade. The album was part of a project destined for the reconstruction of the Centro de Documentatión del Son Jarocho at Jáltipan de Morelos, a cultural building that was damaged after 2017 Puebla earthquake on 19 September 2017.

The album was a great success and gave Lafourcade three Latin Grammy Awards and the album also won the Best Regional Mexican Music Album at the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards.

Un Canto por México, Vol. 1 is available as a limited edition of 2000 individually numbered copies on yellow vinyl, packaged in a gatefold sleeve, with printed inner sleeves

Very Limited 7” EP with printed lyric inner sleeve

Purely Physical Teeny Tapes continue to sink their teeth into the fleshy nethers of the contemporary oz
underground, plucking the self-titled ep of vivisected bedroom folk by naarm/melbourne trio Who Cares?
from the recesses of net anonymity for the greatest of good.

Upon appearing out of nowhere back in ‘24, the quartet’s debut registered (feverishly) somewhere
between immediacy & beguilement, the intervening year & change doing little to dull its aura, the
mystique only heightened by their suitably gorgeous appearance in wonderful company on a colourful
storm’s recent ‘going back to sleep…’ compilation-extravaganza. The conceit of these four tracks here is
disarmingly minimal - repetitious loner guitar strummage, oblique vox poetics as lullaby, intermittent
sunken percussion, bass the subtle melodic lugger - all recurring/revolving in delicious pirouette freefall,
un-rinseable within the mind, wayward melodies stuck like heat-warped treacle.

As with the firmest of its diy domestica ilk, there’s something ever so slightly off here, the carnivalesque
nature of this thing being the ‘what?’ that keeps pulling you in. parched ennui drip, fully zonked bacchanal
(anti-)energetics, listlessness rendered bedsit anthem, cooees in the hallway. depending on how your
head is screwed, ‘correct’ or otherwise, one might hear a charmed take on a vein of folk song fallen well
by the wayside/behind the mantle, others a seance for the spirits in the kettle, others more attuned to the
myriad wraiths swirling within the outer reaches of these songs, flights of whimsy foiled by a sticky, gluey
something or other. choose, or rather submit to your own adventure. Miaow miaow miaow.

»Music for Shared Rooms« is B. Fleischmann’s eleventh solo album and his first since 2018. It is also not an album, or at least not in the conventional sense of the word. These 16 instrumental pieces provide a kaleidoscopic glimpse of a forward-thinking musician at home in many different musical worlds, including experimental and abstract music, pop and more classically-minded compositional forms. These pieces were culled from an archive of roughly 600 compositions for theatre pieces and films written throughout the past twelve years. The Österreichischer Filmpreis-awarded composer, however, aimed for more than simply documenting his extensive work in and with different media. To do so, he edited and re-mixed the individual recordings for this release, taking them out of their contexts and reworking them for an audience who can experience them in a different setting. »Music for Shared Rooms« makes it possible for its listeners to engage with the sounds and to fill the spaces they open up with their own imagination.

Roughly speaking, music for theatre or film can serve two functions: it either takes the lead, or underscores what is happening on stage or screen. The marvelous thing about these pieces is that they manage to do both. Fleischmann’s work as a prolific producer has always drawn on contrasts, at times combining pop sentiment with rigid experimentation, the seemingly naive with the intricate and complex. This approach also marks the tracks collected here: bringing together acoustic elements and electronic sounds, at times working with conventional structures but always de- and re-contextualising them, Fleischmann constructs a vivid dramaturgy out of discrete singular compositions, letting them interact across the record.

Take, for example, the opener »Träumerei« and the following »Brenne«: after the soothing acoustic sounds of the former, the latter quickly picks up speed with hard-hitting drum machine rhythms. It’s a stark contrast sonically and stylistically, however both tracks are tied together by a certain harmonic sensibility. This sort of dramaturgical interconnectedness of varied musical materials is the thread that runs through »Music for Shared Rooms«. A droney piece for string instruments like »Sehnsucht« is followed by a trip-hop beat, before »Schock« lives up to its title with skittering beats and piercing high frequencies. The differences between the pieces may be striking, but the progression from one to the other is subtle. It goes on like this through different moods and tempos. There’s soothing-yet-eerie piano pieces like the »Für Elise«-inspired »Der Lärmkrieg«, gentle house grooves, joyful synthesizer excursions and, finally, »Die Erde ist mir fremd geworden«, a collage of abstract textures and concrete sounds.

All these pieces create distinct situations through the juxtaposition of diverse musical elements, but are also bound together by a single vision. Writing music for theatre pieces or film requires a composer and his pieces to engage with people and their movements in space, which is exactly what Fleischmann offers on this record. He breaks down the fourth wall and invites his listeners into his world, a wide-ranging musical panorama. »Music for Shared Rooms« is indeed not an album in the conventional sense of the word, but more like a photo album in which each page opens up a new space to get lost in; recreates different scenes in which you can immerse yourself. These are shared rooms indeed.

First time reissue of JP / US free jazz rarity.

The 1970s were Marion Brown’s most searching decade, a period during which he sought to move beyond the free jazz of the previous era and find more personal approaches to structuring improvisation and composition. After leaving New York for Europe in 1967, Brown began reshaping his music into what he described as “a more deliberate kind of music that had more structure to it,” pacing it so that moods and modes could develop over time. Albums such as In Sommerhausen, Afternoon of a Georgia Faun, Geechee Recollections, and Sweet Earth Flying trace this evolution: rhythmic structures moved to the foreground, harmony receded, and composition became a matter of orchestrating interlocking rhythmic parts as one would polyphonic lines.

Released in 1976, Awofofora is an overlooked but crucial entry in that sequence. At the time, its use of funk and reggae beats, electric guitars, and grooves drawn from contemporary Black popular music led some to misread it as a jazz-rock detour. In retrospect, it is entirely consistent with Brown’s methodology. As he admired in the Art Ensemble of Chicago, the stimulus comes from within the community. Here Brown filters Afro-Caribbean rhythms and funk through his own sensibility, abstracting their structural qualities rather than adopting surface style.

“La Placita,” making its first recorded appearance, layers distinct rhythmic phrases in a manner reminiscent of African drum ensembles, over which Brown and trumpeter Ambrose Jackson spin extended improvisations. The standard “Flamingo” is reshaped through diasporic rhythm and lyrical soloing, while “Pepi’s Tempo” and “Mangoes” harness crisp funk and reggae grooves to generate what Brown called a “manifestation of community” through collective improvisation. Even the overdubbed solo feature “And Then They Danced” reflects his structural thinking, ingeniously re-voicing a duet composition for two alto saxophones performed by one player.

This was the only recording by a short-lived band that briefly polarized audiences during festival appearances in 1976. Yet Brown consistently sought unity across change: different sounds, same principles — rhythm as structure, melody as architecture, collective improvisation, and above all, the primacy of tone. Awofofora stands not as a departure, but as a vivid synthesis of the elements he had been refining since the late 1960s, its grooves and golden alto lines conveying a sound drawn, in his words, “from life and from the world of experience.”

Grady Steele (Formant Soundsystem) debuts on FELT with the tender spectre of Nausea, poignant patterns captured through the dusk-hued window pane.

Co-founder of the Formant Soundsystem, a travelling rig that’s powered forward-thinking dances in London and Paris, Grady Steele has championed both experimental and club music at the cutting edge. Concurrently to this, he debuted his own productions back in 2024 for Archaic Vaults. Uniquely intimate, his music shone lowkey and warm with an assured glow. It’s no surprise then to find his inimitable sounds land neatly on Fergus Jones’ FELT imprint.

Nausea extends across seven movements, narrating sentimental parallels of familiarity. Grady posits concentrated pangs of post-rave nostalgia with rich melodic sustenance, a vivid introspection tempered with field recordings and live instrumentation. Strummed guitars and aching pads move purposefully with the suspended pace, an immersive beatless vista from its opening quiet moments through to the guttural noise-laden finale. It’s a brief, beautiful collection from Grady Steele and another string to FELT’s unpredictable bow.

Written, recorded and produced by Grady Steele

Mastered by Miles Whittaker

Cover photo by Alex Kurunis

Emerging from the vivid chaos of Detroit’s underground, ZelooperZ returns with Dali Ain’t Dead — a surreal yet deeply grounded statement from one of rap’s most singular voices. Following his recent collaborative exploration Dear Psilocybin (with Real Bad Man) — which found him moving through a “stream of psychosis” just before sobriety. (Pitchfork) — ZelooperZ enters this new chapter not simply as the same intricate-flows rapper, but as a rising cult-figure in underground hip-hop who’s forged an identity both enigmatic and quietly unstoppable.

On Dali Ain’t Dead, ZelooperZ channels the spirit of the surreal — the album’s title a nod to the iconic surrealist artist Salvador Dalí — as he reframes his world post-substance, post-chaos, yet still dripping with vivid imagination. Reviews highlight that the album finds him in a more focused mode: one critic writes that “ZelooperZ seems to have adopted a similar outlook to Dalí… embracing sobriety and allowing his art to exist as the psychotropic fuel for his mind.” (Album of the Year) Production (courtesy of Dilip) is inventive and cohesive, blending experimental hip-hop, trap, cloud-rap and drumless textures to mirror Ze’s newly clear-eyed vantage point and trademark eccentricity. (Legends Will Never Die)

Tracks like “Mona Lisa Left Eye” and “Push Me Around” (featuring Zack Fox) carry Z’s jagged humor and restless energy, while deeper cuts like “Shrooms” and “Take Me I’m Drugs” trace his evolving relationship with psychedelia and the legacy of his past. (Legends Will Never Die) In doing so, the record positions itself as the sound of a freak-icon in transition — still wild, still weird, but sharpened, matured, operating with a purpose and increasingly commanding the attention of fans who relish the underground unusual.

ZelooperZ’s trajectory continues to rise. From his roots in the Bruiser Brigade collective in Detroit to the present moment as a cult figure whose every release feels like a mission statement, Dali Ain’t Dead confirms that he’s no longer just the oddball off-to-the-side: he’s the weirdo that others are quietly watching. This album isn’t just for the longtime disciples of his left-field aesthetic — it’s an invitation to anyone curious about hip-hop bending, breaking, and rebuilding itself from the fringes inward.

What's the point of the howl of string to speaker, the hammering of stick-on skin? Is it transcendence, elevating the human spirit by catharsis in sound? Or is it summoning chaos, a purgatory in which to bask in all that’s unclean, the better to feel alive?
Why not both? Because that’s what’s on offer on Diet Of Worms, the second Rocket release by The Shits, Leeds via Newcastle’s titans of disgust and deliverance. This is a feast for the senses in the worst way possible - primal rock boiled down to its essence and flung full in your face. Using repetition, tortured vocal invective and heads-down intensity as blunt instruments, these eight tracks are an unprecedented torrent of acidic salvation. Whilst lurking somewhere on the decadence-destruction axis between the nihilism of prime Stooges and the bloody blackout of Braimbombs, Diet Of Worms is possessed of a legitimately uncompromising hostility that both elevates and debases it to co-ordinates unknown.
There are revelations here in the riffage and the rancour, even if they are the kind that occur in the bleary miasma of the lock-in, or witnessing the streetlight blur of the subsequent stagger home. Even more single-minded and remorseless than the band’s Rocket debut ‘You’re A Mess’, this is a record that demands full immersion. Whether it’s ‘Then You’re Dead’ hammering on a pulverising garage-stinking riff until it begs for mercy, or ‘Change My Ways’, whose Creedence-In-Hell swagger and lurch is that of abjection transmuted into joy, this is psychedelia forcibly removed from its comfort zone of pastiche, and thrust into a bad-trip realm of the vivid and nightmarish.
But rarely has the process of making beauty and horror indivisible seemed like so much fun. If Werner Herzog was right, and the only harmony in the universe is that of overwhelming and collective murder, then The Shits are the true music of the spheres.