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THE RAPPER ANDPRODUCER"S NEW ALBUM
Palmier is producer and rapper Rocé"s new album. At the crossroads of Sade and Rakim, the album unfolds an impeccable flow over gentle melodies, the mellow sound of the saxophone softening the sharpness of the spoken truths. Rocé delivers a melody of hope, and appreciation of determination in the face of the impossible. "La Voie Lactée" features the captivating voice of Natacha Atlas and the sublime orchestrated violins of Samy Bishaï, the whole thing wrapped up in the style reminiscent of Isaac Hayes" soul and Portishead"s trip-hop. "Laisse les enfants courir" reveals a soulful hip-hop,between powerful groove and relentless flow, where Rocé blends political lucidity and poetic verse while Cisko"s subtle arrangements sculpt an organic, sensitive landscape, poised between tension and serenity. On "Lunaire", Rocé surprises us right away, with a sharp and melodic flow. Driven by powerful imagery and sharp lyrics, the track transforms anger into creative energy. It portrays an artist outsidethe mainstream, awareof the world"s failings but determined to create his own haven. Palmier embodies the melancholy of unfinished struggles, perseverance, and the promise of a brighter dawn.

Blue Hour is Nick Schofield’s first foray into ambient jazz music. The album is an ambient ode to Miles Davis’ In A Silent Way, and opens up Schofield’s sonic palette to introduce his childhood instrument, drums, with his contemporary ambient-electronic practice. Blue Hour features the intuitive, and totally improvised, trumpet playing of Scott Bevins (No Cosmos, Busty and the Bass).

Schofield grew up playing drums, but turned to creating experimental-electronic music when studying Electroacoustics at Concordia University. Well-known for his signature ambient aesthetic, Schofield has been called a “dazzling electronic artist” by Aquarium Drunkard and a “synth maven” by Constellation Records. Blue Hour marks the first time that he has merged his percussion practice with his ambient electronic explorations, and it is all in the service of reinterpreting Miles Davis’ 1969 watershed recording In a Silent Way.

Schofield improvised all of the drumming and main synthesizer parts over the course of a single day, recording in a church in Ottawa. These foundational layers comprise tender Moog pulses and Roland Juno-6 pads, some of which would not be out of place on the back half of Another Green World or Music Has the Right to Children.

If this was to be a reflection of In a Silent Way, of course there would need to be trumpet. Schofield invited Bevins to record the missing piece of the album during a one day recording session, where Bevins improvised all his trumpet parts having never heard the songs before. Scott Bevins’ contribution gives the music a leading instrumental voice, and his intuitive approach shows a perfect understanding of how to both integrate and elevate the compositions.

Blue Hour is itself a profound reference, an ambient adaptation, a dream realized and an uncanny synthesis of sounds, styles, and personal history.

Blue Hour is Nick Schofield’s first foray into ambient jazz music. The album is an ambient ode to Miles Davis’ In A Silent Way, and opens up Schofield’s sonic palette to introduce his childhood instrument, drums, with his contemporary ambient-electronic practice. Blue Hour features the intuitive, and totally improvised, trumpet playing of Scott Bevins (No Cosmos, Busty and the Bass).

Schofield grew up playing drums, but turned to creating experimental-electronic music when studying Electroacoustics at Concordia University. Well-known for his signature ambient aesthetic, Schofield has been called a “dazzling electronic artist” by Aquarium Drunkard and a “synth maven” by Constellation Records. Blue Hour marks the first time that he has merged his percussion practice with his ambient electronic explorations, and it is all in the service of reinterpreting Miles Davis’ 1969 watershed recording In a Silent Way.

Schofield improvised all of the drumming and main synthesizer parts over the course of a single day, recording in a church in Ottawa. These foundational layers comprise tender Moog pulses and Roland Juno-6 pads, some of which would not be out of place on the back half of Another Green World or Music Has the Right to Children.

If this was to be a reflection of In a Silent Way, of course there would need to be trumpet. Schofield invited Bevins to record the missing piece of the album during a one day recording session, where Bevins improvised all his trumpet parts having never heard the songs before. Scott Bevins’ contribution gives the music a leading instrumental voice, and his intuitive approach shows a perfect understanding of how to both integrate and elevate the compositions.

Blue Hour is itself a profound reference, an ambient adaptation, a dream realized and an uncanny synthesis of sounds, styles, and personal history.

The album presents a distinctive artistic statement built around song, texture and collective exploration. Opening tracks such as 'Fair Weather' and 'The Big Flood' draw on the oblique lyricism of Henry Cow and the surreal songcraft of Robert Wyatt, with Beraha's voice at the centre of a sound world shaped by analogue radio collage and drifting, delayed saxophone lines. Punk-inflected rhythms emerge on 'Modern Times', while the reflective 'Into the Woods' blends lyrical song with collective improvisation, highlighting the ensemble's dynamic range. Across the album, tightly composed material sits alongside free improvisation, cinematic writing and storytelling. Tracks including 'February' and 'I the King' explore contemporary jazz, humour and surreal narrative, while groove- led pieces such as 'Dorian Gray's Bathroom Cabinet' and Morricone- inspired 'Same Time Next Week' showcase rhythmic drive and playfulness. The album closes with 'Strangers on a Train', where scripted text gives way to improvised spoken dialogue over a relentless pulse, uniting the record's themes of collaboration, narrative and spontaneity. Reflecting on the recording process, Kevin Figes describes Wallpaper Music III as "a joy to make", marking a return to Rockfield Studios and a collaborative experience with musicians whose sensitivity, imagination and improvisational skill shaped the music at every stage

Bristol's Tara Clerkin Trio return to World of Echo and the EP format for a five song collection of quixotic, emotional redolence. But do not mistake their absence for inertia. If their musical output has been a little sparse during those in-between years, limited to a few solo ventures and an astonishing ten minute long piece as a trio, their time has otherwise been richly spent: continuous writing and recording, extensive live performances across Europe and Japan, a cultivation of local and more far-flung artistic connections (musical and otherwise), and a monthly NTS show that, through the voice of others, speaks most obviously to their own unorthodox interests. It's the conflux of that winding activity that leads indirectly to On The Turning Ground, 26 minutes of probing, thoughtful composition that draws from no one specific source. Their inspirations might be centreless, but the trio still possess a very obvious anchor in the form of their hometown. Bristol stands as a city of multitudes, heterogenous and vibrant in such a way as to allow it to renew and remake time and again. Tara Clerkin Trio drink from that same well, duly reflecting a rich musical heritage built on fwd-facing electronic subcultures and experimental urges.

As such, On The Turning Ground finds them subject to their own subtle internal evolution, the pervasive sense that you've caught them mid-bloom, on their way to becoming but never anything but themselves. The two instrumental pieces that bookend the EP stand as a perfect case in point, displaying an increasing mastery of compositional space. Pensive and restrained, 'Brigstow' and 'Once Around' both emanate an interstitial quality that's not so much after- as in-between-hours, miniature dub-folk symphonies held together by the kind of tacit understanding that remains the preserve of only the closest of family units. If those two tracks are shaped by a sense of shifting temporality, then the three vocal-led pieces that comprise the record's core feel like a gentle ossifying of aesthetic into something approaching their own unique form of avant-pop. 'Pop' is, of course, a broadly subjective concept, but there's no avoiding the overt sparkling melodicism of songs like 'Marble Walls' and 'The Turning Ground', undeniable re-directions of that late 90s impulse to bend pop sensibilities into off-centre terrain, to render the familiar new again. This is what Tara Clerkin Trio do, gently pulling the ground from under your feet, turning you to face something you'd not quite seen before. To view the world as they do: sideways, sometimes, all of the time.

Geoglyph is the new duo project by Alohn and Khey Mysterio, a convergence of two deeply singular practices into a single subterranean signal. Their debut album arrives as the eighth reference on Organic Signs, not as a collection of tracks but as a carved artifact: six inscriptions pressed into vinyl, mapping a sonic territory where time, rhythm and texture are no longer linear, but layered like geological memory.

Through Geoglyph, Alohn and Khey Mysterio convey a message from below, or beyond. A pulse engraved from forgotten times in the basement of reality, reactivated by abyssal basses, vibrating layers and fractured textures. Exhumed from the subterranean strata where psychedelic dub, mineral techno and fractal dubstep fuse into raw energy, their music becomes a point of contact: every beat, every silence, every oscillation acting as a coordinate toward another perception. What unfolds is not simply sound design, but an invocation, rhythms as sigils, timbre as gnosis, signals that seem to arrive already charged with intention.

Across the album, Alohn’s guitar notes fall like cascades through the mix, dissolving at times into controlled feedback and crystallizing into melodic fragments that hover between tension and release. These organic gestures are interwoven with Khey Mysterio’s dense low-end architectures and rhythmic frameworks, creating a constantly shifting terrain: from weightless transmissions and ritualistic voices to moments of overwhelming propulsion where the music suddenly breaks open with tectonic force. The record moves fluidly between meditative suspension and explosive motion, never settling into a single state for long.

A strong undercurrent of what has come to be known as “druidstep” runs through the album, a term coined within the 95 Open Tabs universe to describe a form of dubstep untethered from genre convention, rooted instead in bass as ritual, in groove as invocation. Here it meets dub-techno pulse, psychedelic echoes and high-velocity 4×4 pressure, drawing subtle influence from underground bass cultures without ever becoming referential. The result is a body of work that feels both ancient and forward-leaning, cyclical rather than linear: a living geoglyph that reveals different meanings depending on how (and where) it is read.

As the final movement accelerates into its closing phase, the album releases its energy outward, with frequencies stretched toward their limits, leaving behind the trace of a completed ceremony. In this sense, Geoglyph’s debut stands as a defining moment within the Organic Signs continuum: a record that unfolds rather than explains, offering an experience to be entered, absorbed, and carried. With this release, the label continues to explore new sonic spaces, evolving and expanding while giving deeper meaning to its own essence. A message from beneath the surface, waiting for those willing to tune in.

Más de este género

Chris Acker’s latest collection of songs, Famous Lunch, is in his words, a “growing pains album.” When writing the record, the New Orleans' based folk musician found himself hunting for a voice that wasn’t just an imitation of the one he’d been using on the last 30 songs he’d made. “At the same time, I worked hard to find a certain voice for myself over the previous 3 records and I didn’t want to abandon that.”

While the album finds him continuing to transcribe life’s fleeting and provocative banalities with refreshing grace, the songs on Famous Lunch are intentionally more absurd, stylizing his lyricism as both poetic and disarming simultaneously— commencing with “Sh*t Surprise”—an earworm with a vernacular that stays true to its title. Inspired by George Saunders and Sasha Pearl (and wanting to make a song that sounds like Eagles saying the word “sh*t” over and over), “Sh*t Surprise” is the most Chris Acker song possible, in that its earnestness arrives in spades and comes varnished with a one-of-a-kind, spectacular gnarliness. “We’d match our breath in the upstairs room and we’d hold together ‘til I smelled like you,” Acker sings, before nose-diving into that unforgettable chorus about stepping in a smelly, disgusting pile of sh*t.

More than anything else, Famous Lunch finds Chris Acker at his most sentimental and grateful, as he sings about Bunn coffee machines, gas pumps smelling like “the underside of a fingernail” in August, “10-inching” bread, stealing country club lawn-mower motors, father-son fables, impatient buffet lines, and a broom that “hasn’t been used since the last time I used it.” Acker’s eye for detail remains, and his lexicon includes phrasings that spin out like a hypnotic wash cycle. Seeing the world through his eyes, language remains something worth falling into—growing pains and all.

Salix is a bold new departure for modular synthesist Loula Yorke, seen here using an antique reed organ to explore the ancient roots of willow trees in magic, myth and medicine, as well as inviting another musician into her recording studio for the first time, clarinettist Charlotte Jolly.

The EP forms a sonic archive of a singular instrument: an antique free reed organ left behind by a previous encumbent of Asylum Studios, (the artists' co-operative in Suffolk where Yorke's Truxalis labelmate and life collaborator, Seiche, has a studio space). The organ is in poor condition and fascinatingly, painfully detuned. Yorke's recordings bring out its host of unusual quirks exacerbated by age and neglect: the powerful rhythmic creaking of the wooden treadles; the bone-shaking resonance emanating from its body at specific pitches; unexpected exclamations of harmonic collision from within the carcass redolent of a human voice; the piercing, shrieking whistles of broken reeds, and the powerful timbres unlocked via Yorke's experiments with various combinations of stops.

The three tracks that form Salix are inspired by a local weeping willow tree, a constant companion photographed over the course of a year. Boughs caught in a gyre. A maiden in mourning. Branches that gesture in the wrong direction. A tree turned upside down. A hand-woven willow basket, an old technology to gather and store. The journey of a lovelorn bard through the underworld, a bundle of willow under one arm for protection.

For the opening track, The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction, Yorke recorded herself playing a simple unaccompanied improvisation on the organ, the only ornamentation being the processed sounds of the keys being struck and returning to their positions.

For Bundle of Styx, a spell of protection is cast and then broken. Yorke invited virtuoso clarinettist Charlotte Jolly into the studio to test combining the breathy textures of both brass and natural reeds, the instruments uniting and obsuring each other in turn during this one-take improvisation. The organ's unpredictable sharpened tunings take centre stage here, with Jolly using them as a point of departure to conjure a set of peerless harmonic improvisations live in the moment. Throughout the improvisation, Yorke, a self-taught musician, unpracticed on the organ, supports and challenges, freely admitting that she's not always sure what effect her decisions to move up and down the keyboard or pull out certain stops will have. Jolly's genius lies in her ability to meet and build on every uncertain pitch thrown her way, saying of the experience, "I love that Loula isn't classically trained, I can't predict at all what she's about to do."

For the final track, With the Red Dawn, Yorke has come up with another unique combination of textures, this time bringing her own specialism in modular synthesis to the fore. A ten-minute reed organ drone characterised with ever-shifting bass swells and overtones is layered with tuned sines, often shudderingly wave-folded, that ebb and flow both in intensity and harmonic colour according to the duty cycles of eight interrelated LFOs. These recordings are collaged with Yorke's singing voice and a langorous, ascending sequence across two octaves on Jolly's clarinet, all arranged to form a cohesive whole far greater than the sum of its parts. Smatterings of untuned percussion and a fragment of a conversation between the duo left in the final mix cements Yorke's unprecious DIY aesthetic into the release.

At its heart, Salix is like watching the wind in the willows; hundreds of thousands of identical tiny leaves moving in confluence on its branches; at once one thing and many things; moment-to-moment our perception makes out different individuals parts within this expanse of texture, before sinking back into the whole.

The album opens with the ominous guitar-driven Hollow Sky, accompanied by its haunting music video's verdant vistas. The song, with Iceglass ghostly vocals, shimmers with that sounds like an Omnichord flittering like sonic firefly lights and brooding bass. This perfectly scores the less traveled wanderings through the dark wooden path of Dante's perdition, leading to the titular well that graces the album cover. The Crater opens with an unsettling riff and bass, with low, repetitive frequencies on the synth create a sense of unease. Here, Iceglass recounts a fatalistic requiem for the king of romance that is cataclysmic and leaves a scar upon the earth. With Fall Industrial Wall, once again, Iceglass channels a silky and Nico-like emotive deadpan; against a dirgelike melody backed by minimal synth, bass, and drum. Almost medieval and plaintive, with its folk droning horns, deep and shallow in their resonance. This song is anachronistic, setting the scene of ruins centuries-old with crumbling edifices strewn about like memories lost in time. With the poetic lyrics of The Chamber do we find the eponymous abyss. Here, dualities are laid bare; besides love, there is heartbreak, and without this sorrow, what meaning would there be to love if one knows not what it is to lose? This song encapsulates the idea that love is heartbreak, and love lost is reaching the deepest chamber of the heart. This is carried through a sombre horn, minimalist drum machine, and deliberate bassline overlaid with Iceglass german and english lyrics. The Well is led in with a softly distorted bassline overlaid with eerie banshee howls give way to Iceglass otherworld vocal refrain, echoing through time as if emanating from a hole in the ground, and encircling that hole is a garden of woe and despair. The sinfully seductive song The Moor features a captivating SAX SOLO courtesy of Perseas; a welcome shift in tone, juxtaposed well with the intensity of Iceglass tenebrous vocal purr. This hitherto unexplored foray into dark sensuality takes the song into sordid mid 80s territory, bringing to mind a dusky drive along a serpentine road, with equally haunting instrumentations straddling time with icy fire. Broken Characters is an acoustic folk interlude featuring Selofan's Dimitris Pavlidis on guitar. Here we find a more gentle approach with its earnest and romantic lyrics. The song's melodic hook is a soft caress along with the forlorn horn elements highlighting Iceglass at her most Nico-sounding vocal yet, singing the sorrowful truth that most artists are indeed broken characters. Chimerical opens with dirgelike synth organs. The chill of winter has befallen the lamentations sung by Iceglass carried by haunting chord progressions and minimal percussion, plaintively beseeching the song's subject to remain elusive, idealistic, and a dreamer. After an album highlighting more Jill than Jack, our male protagonist finally makes his ascent in the sonorous and breathtaking Dark Hill, a masterful march of sweeping synth horns, and trepidatious drum machine with William Maybelline's bellowing voice cracking like thunder, rattling the atmosphere like his heart against his ribs. Spirals swirls in a cautionary knell of cathedral-esque droning synth dirge, with Icarian lyrics shining like a sombre ray of hope; like the sun's rays creeping into the darkest of places. The song, minimalist in its tight percussion, echoes with the solace of Larissa Iceglass vocal litany; invoking elements of the supernatural, almost like a Casio preset sequenced to the beating of an angel's wings.

The record is largely sung in Scots language, one of Scotland’s three official languages along with Gaelic and English. “Scots gives me a way of expressing myself which is connected directly with the landscapes I love. It brings the songs alive and it is a fascinating language. The name of the record is in Scots - Forefowk means the people who came before, or ancestors. When we say ‘mind me,’ we can mean a few things- remind, remember, watch over or care for me. The record explores how tradition needs to be constantly reconnected with, built upon, looked after, and shared.”
Quinie sings with a style inspired by Scottish Traveller singers. “I began singing unaccompanied Scots Song in 2015 after hearing Scots Traveller singer Sheila Stewart on the radio. Initially I felt like I shouldn't sing these songs because I'm not a Traveller, and I saw people around me doing that in a way that made me uncomfortable. But on the other hand this music made sense to me and I felt driven to learn. Over the years I have met Traveller friends who taught me that settled people sharing these songs could contribute to raising awareness. Scottish Travellers are marginalised and discriminated against in modern Scotland, despite being custodians of so many of our important traditions. So I started to perform them and tell this story. From there I built on my repertoire and started writing my own songs”.
To develop this record, Quinie travelled across Argyll with her horse. They went on a pilgrimage of sorts through the ancient landscapes of the West of Scotland to explore the interconnected relationships between people, ancestors, animals, and place. The album’s vinyl release is accompanied by a book and film, documenting this unusual research process.
Forefowk, Mind Me was recorded in August 2024 at The Big Shed in Highland Perthshire with support from Creative Scotland. Quinie is accompanied by an ensemble of musicians: Ailbhe Nic Oireachtaigh (viola), Oliver Pitt (duduk, bouzouki, percussion), Harry Górski-Brown (small pipes, violin), and Stevie Jones (double bass, recording, and mixing). Each of these artists brings their own distinctive voice, bridging contemporary experimental practice with worlds of traditional and early music.

Experience “drivers license” for the first time all over again—this time through the voice of the legendary David Byrne. Celebrating five years since Olivia’s breakout single, this limited first pressing vinyl features Byrne’s cover of “drivers license” on Side A, and Olivia and David’s live performance of “burning down the house” from Governor’s Ball on Side B. Pressed on red translucent 7-inch vinyl.

Talulah’s Tape is the debut offering from magnetic Midwest-jangle collective Good Flying Birds. Across a patchwork mixtape of stripped-down home recordings that span the independent-guitar spectrum, the band delivers colorful, intricate pop songs perched between the immediacy of DIY punk and the intimate sweetness of twee. Breakbeats, memes, and noise glue everything together, making the album feel as chronically online as it is timeless.

Originally released on cassette in January 2025 by Midwest-punk legend Martin Meyers’s Rotten Apple label, the tape sold more than 300 copies in under a month and quickly became an out-of-print and coveted item. Meyers called it “certified catnip for popheads.” Now, with a refined track list and a fresh master from Greg Obis, Talulah’s Tape returns on LP and CD via Carpark and Smoking Room in October 2025.

While production and approach vary, a through-line of sensitive self-contemplation rests on bright, scrappy guitars and hyperactive melodic bass. Opener “Down on Me” rides a buoyant bass line while jangling guitars frame reflections on overcoming trauma: “I see you in the mirror every time I cry / I hear your voice every time I try.” Next, the guitars trade twinkling counter-melodies on “I Care for You,” pairing sugary, lovestruck lyrics with effervescent strums: “You catch me when I fall / You build me up so tall.”

The rosy grin occasionally twists into a wicked smirk. “Dynamic” warns, “You used to paint the face, but now you’re just the clown,” while “Glass” asks, “Is it lonely at the top when everyone follows the trend, and you hold the pen?” Both tracks brim with sparkling guitar interplay. By the closing, nearly five-minute “Last Straw,” Good Flying Birds stand far beyond conventional indie-pop or 4-track punk, unveiling a roller-coaster of unpredictable changes, vocal harmonies, and instrumental cross-talk.

Altogether, Talulah’s Tape is a pastel-yellow, candy-coated shell filled with thoughtful juxtapositions and melodic experiments. Standing on the same ground as idiosyncratic songwriters like Connie Converse and Daniel Johnston, Good Flying Birds find sweetness in sadness, tear stains on a colorful flower-print couch. Simultaneously, it’s packed with the scratchy guitars and vibrant rhythms of Scottish guitar groups like The Pastels, Orange Juice, and Josef K. It’s a tremendous opening statement from a band just getting started.

Stacey Kent is an American jazz singer in the mould of the greats, with a legion of fans, a host of honors and awards including a Grammy nomination, album sales in excess of 2 million and more than one billion streams, and Platinum, Double-Gold and Gold-selling albums that have reached a series of chart-topping positions.

Stacey, a comparative literature graduate with a passion for music, travelled to Europe to further her studies after receiving her degree from Sarah Lawrence College in NY. Through a series of twists of fate, she found herself in London where she enrolled in a graduate music program at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama, where she met her future husband and musical partner, Jim Tomlinson.

Kent's musical journey began with childhood piano lessons. A keen ear and true voice lead her to search out opportunities to express her love of music. However, nothing suggested the shift from the academic path to the one that propelled her to international recognition as one of the foremost jazz singers of her generation. With a catalogue of 13 studio albums, including the Platinum selling, Grammy-nominated Breakfast On The Morning Tram (Blue Note/EMI 2007) and an impressive list of collaborations, Stacey has graced the stages of nearly 60 countries over the course of her career.

Her worldwide fan base is testimony to her ability to express the emotional heart of her songs with delicately nuanced interpretations that transcend borders and defy categorization. Her unique multi-lingual repertoire includes standards, chanson, Bossa Nova, and originals written by Jim Tomlinson, her saxophonist/producer/composer/arranger husband in collaboration with the Nobel Prize-winning author, Kazuo Ishiguro with whom they have worked since 2006. She has also recorded with Brazilian legends, Marcos Valle, Roberto Menescal and Danilo Caymmi, and the celebrated French string quartet, the Quatuor Ébène.

Stacey's last studio album, Summer Me, Winter Me, was released in November 2023 on Naïve Records. A collection of fans' requests from her as yet unrecorded concert repertoire, Summer Me, Winter Me entered the French jazz charts at number 1 and has quickly established itself as a new highlight in her discography. She now returns with A Time For Love.

There’s an alternate reality where everyone makes a living wage and the cleanest buses you’ve ever seen arrive every other minute. Where the most intense songs are about confessing your love to a crush at the apple orchard, and where gentle feelings and chaotic energy are inseparable best friends. This is the timeline where Cootie Catcher is right at home. This Toronto based four-piece exudes both vulnerability and unbridled excitement, creating a sound that hypercharges the open-hearted tenderness of twee pop with spiraling synths and giddy electronics. New album Something We All Got is the clearest and most vibrant reading of Cootie Catcher’s vision yet, with songs of sweetness, nervousness, and expectancy that beam out unguarded.
After releasing music made primarily in basement recording environments, Something We All Got is the band’s first flirtation with studio recording. The edges are still sharp, however, with some parts assembled from time-honored lo-fi methods and fun, personally-sourced samples seeping into the production. The sound is explosive and upbeat, with euphoric guitars, bubbly synth lines, speedy drums both played and programmed, and all other manner of sound constantly colliding. Cootie Catcher has three songwriters, Sophia Chavez, Anita Fowl, and Nolan Jakupovski, all of whom have distinctive voices but still manage to overlap in their writing on shared concerns like navigating the lines of romantic and platonic relationships, their city’s social scenes, and struggles in both the microcosmic experience of playing in a band and the zoomed-out challenges of living through late-stage capitalism.
Joy still touches every surface of Something We All Got. “Quarter Note Rock” bounces around the room in a fit of jangling guitar chords, scratched samples, and interplay between breakbeat loops and somersaulting live drums. It’s a blast of positivity even with lyrics about how disappointing it can be to meet your heroes. A smiling electro pop instrumental supports lyrics about having to step painfully away from an almost realized love on “Gingham Dress,” a song that subverts themes of domesticity as a backdrop for the dashed wilt of hopeless devotion.
Cootie Catcher rolls down hills and jumps through flaming hoops throughout Something We All Got without ever dumbing down the visceral emotions that drive these songs. There’s a palpable tension between the band’s exhilarating sonics and the raw, often uneasy sentiments expressed, but it’s an integral part of what makes them unique. Rather than hide behind the kind of calculated vagueness that plagues so much of the indie rock landscape in the time of cursed algorithms, Cootie Catcher runs full-speed toward every confusion and excitement, fearlessly direct and embracing the reality they’re in.

Formed in Taipei in 2013, Scattered Purgatory (破地獄) has occupied a liminal space between drone, ambient, psychedelic folk and ritualistic kosmiche experimentation. Their early work, including ‘Lost Ethnography of the Miscanthus Ocean’ (2014) and ‘God of Silver Grass’ (2016), blended dense instrumental drones, improvisational guitar, and ambient textures rooted in the heat, humidity, and urban pulse of Taiwan. Over the years, the duo-turned-band has drawn on Krautrock, minimalist electronic music, and heavy drone traditions while remaining firmly grounded in Taiwanese geography and culture.

‘Post Purgatory’ emerges after a three-year hiatus following the pandemic, a period the band describes as pivotal to the album’s conception. “The feeling of loss and uncertainty has later become the inspiration of this record, and ‘time’ is the main theme – it can heal or it can destroy,” they explain. Musically and lyrically, the record traverses Taiwanese, traditional Chinese, and English, reflecting the multilingual fabric of Taipei life. While there isn’t a linear storyline, metaphor and poetry imbue the lyrics with reflections on love, loss, and the human experience, interlaced with influences of Hokkien and Mando pop and traces of trip-hop.

Recorded half in their home and half at the studio where they composed their first album, ‘Post Purgatory' integrates precision, clarity, and digital production techniques. Guest contributions—from White Wu’s dynamic drumming to Minyen Hsieh’s tenor saxophone and dotzio’s sci-fi-infused vocals—expand the band’s sonic palette, creating a doom metal record shaped by electronic sensibilities.

‘Post Purgatory’ is a statement of loss and re-empowerment, a bridge between their past and present. Through it, Scattered Purgatory reclaim their distinctive voice, presenting a sound that is at once rooted in Taiwan, informed by global musical traditions, and unflinchingly forward-looking.
credits

The duo’s debut album sets off on an airy, groovy odyssey.

Recorded at the legendary La Frette studio (Parcels, Fontaines D.C.), the album follows an extensive period of demo development.

Immersed alongside outstanding musicians, the team worked in a relaxed, old-school spirit: a handful of takes, tape recording, and analog gear. Plenty of space was left for ideas to emerge organically in the studio. The arrangements—synthesizers, flute, backing vocals, percussion—were then carefully refined over many months.



"Idésia" stands out for its delicate production, brought to life by Maxime Kosinetz on recording (Oracle Sisters, Bon Voyage Organisation), Stan Neff on mixing (Andrea Laszlo de Simone, Polo & Pan), and Chab on mastering (Daft Punk, La Femme).



The record unfolds across changing sonic landscapes, with Will’s voice gliding over melodies rooted in a bright, warm groove. A subtle blend of pop and Californian warmth runs throughout the album.

The album explores themes of childhood (Sur le Chemin de l’École, L’Île Perdue), ecstatic escapes (Holiday(s), Pas de Côté, Escalier), and simple pleasures (Le Bal, Cavalière de l’Aube). It also casts a poetic eye on the evolution of the world (Dernier Vol, Robot Rêveur, Balayeur de l’Espace). Will & Paul play with contrasts, shifting perspectives along the way.



"Idésia" is the imaginary world in which Will & Paul gracefully lose themselves - a suspended place between nostalgia and science fiction, as if their silhouettes were drifting from a bright, carefree past toward a place suspended in time.

You probably have at least one friend who is completely obsessed with Marnie Weber. Her dark, punk-infused humour and fearless embrace of eccentric feminine power archetypes combine with gut-punch viscerality and a strange beauty that is anything but pretty.” Village Voice “This neo-gothic fairytale wavers between happiness and sadness, amusement and tragedy, attraction and repulsion.” The White Review “Weber reaches a new scale for her work…The sentimentality and romance at its root fearlessly sets it apart.” BOMB “Wild multimedia works that often dwell on the ghostly and the monstrous. Think: Fairy tales gone seriously awry.” LA Times Acclaimed LA multidisciplinary artist and musician Marnie Weber collects highlights from a long and storied career on Returning Home: The Music of Marnie Weber, a collection of neo-goth art-pop that steers between kankyō ongaku pop songs, noise-rock, and haunted fairytale darkness. The career of Marnie Weber (b. 1959) began with gigs paid in beer at an LA trucker bar in 1977. Her band, Party Boys, formed when Weber was then 19 and had just left home. By the early 80’s, the band began regularly performing at LA’s fabled Al’s Bar, sharing the stage with generational talents that passed over its beer-drenched floors. L7, Beck, Arto Lindsay, Ry Cooder, The Fall, Fear, Hole, Hüsker Dü, Social Distortion, Nirvana, The Residents, Sonic Youth, Urge Overkill, Jesus Lizard, the Misfits, among plenty more, played to audiences that included Bret Easton Ellis, Steve Buscemi, Tommy Lee, Bill Murray, Al Pacino, Sean Penn, and Chloe Sevigny.

WILDFIRE is the long-awaited new studio album from Loreen, set for release on 27th March. Marking her first full studio album in nearly a decade, WILDFIRE is a powerful and intimate body of work that explores emotion, perception and inner transformation, a record that allows the full emotional spectrum to exist, from vulnerability and pain to freedom, love and truth.

The album features the global phenomenon “Tattoo”, alongside fan-favourite “Is It Love” and the transcendent new single “Feels Like Heaven”, co-written with Sia. Together, the tracks reflect Loreen’s unique ability to fuse raw emotional honesty with cinematic pop, creating music that is both deeply personal and universally resonant.

Loreen is the only female artist to have won the Eurovision Song Contest twice and has amassed over 9 billion streams worldwide. “Tattoo” topped radio airplay and singles charts in five countries, further cementing her status as one of the most distinctive and influential voices in modern pop.

With WILDFIRE, Loreen returns with an album that is fearless, expansive and profoundly human

On her new album, Two Whole Summers, Half A Life, Lisa Bassenge is once again accompanied by her trusted fellow musicians, pianist Jacob Karlzon and bassist Andreas Lang, with whom she has already realised numerous projects. Typical of Bassenge, the repertoire comprises a seemingly wild yet harmoniously connected mix of pop, singer-songwriter and jazz elements. The spectrum ranges from Elliott Smith to Duran Duran, from Billie Holiday to Björk. ‘It's always about the expressiveness of the songs – that's the common thread for us,’ emphasises the Berlin-based artist. The album features a track by Hank Williams as well as Madonna's ‘Frozen’ and “Catch” by The Cure. Two original compositions are also part of the recording: the title track ‘Two Whole Summers, Half a Life,’ a tribute to the power of friendship and youth, and the neo-folk ballad ‘I'm Getting Old.’ Both works impressively underline Lisa Bassenge's own artistic signature. For over two decades, Lisa Bassenge has stood for stylistic openness and a characteristic voice that lends new nuances to every song. Despite all the diversity, jazz remains the tonal basis. The Scandinavian-style relaxed sound of Karlzon and Lang lends the interpretations a soft, atmospheric depth.

Rooted in modern blues but unafraid to stretch beyond tradition, the record crackles with grit, groove, and lived- in emotion, presenting an artist who isn't waiting for answers, he's moving forward without them. Across the album, Stillman digs deep into themes of self-reckoning, loss, pride, and renewal.

Songs wrestle openly with identity, shame, and hard- earned perspective, balancing moments of vulnerability with sharp wit and raw confidence. Whether confronting inner demons or finding humor in heartbreak, the writing feels honest and unfiltered, anchored by soulful vocals and muscular musicianship . What Happens Next? is an album about growth through motion-- accepting change, facing consequences, and choosing momentum over fear. High- energy, emotionally grounded, and deeply human, it marks a defining step forward for Gabe Stillman , capturing an artist fully stepping into his voice and daring the listener to do the same.

Austin Wintory's third collaboration with Giant Squid and creative director Matt Nava, Sword of the Sea, sees it's soundtrack surfing onto vinyl.

The music has been specially mastered for vinyl and is pressed to heavyweight discs, all housed in a deluxe gatefold sleeve. Illustrator Elaine Lee has created original artwork that flows from the front cover to the back.

Nominated for Best Score Soundtrack for Video Games and Other Interactive Media at the 68th GRAMMY Awards, Sword of the Sea is an aesthetic successor to thatgamecompany's Journey and Giant Squid's ABZÛ and The Pathless. The album is a mellifluous musical adventure, resonating immaculately with the game's sense of flow and beauty. Piano, synthesisers, strings, wind, and choral elements collaborate with, and cascade over one another, always with a purposeful momentum. Harmonically, pieces carry the listener along a gently undulating path, punctuated by unexpected chord changes - jagged little musical surprises that hint at the game's deeper mysteries.

Soloists Kristin 'Field of Reeds' Naigus, Tina Guo, Malukah, Paul Cartwright and Tom Strahle elevate the score with soaring performances, while ensembles including London Voices and the Phoenix Boys Choir enrich the texture of the enveloping compositions.

Double LP pressed on transparent red vinyl with black marbles. In Dying Light: The Beast, you step back into Kyle Crane's skin, but he's no longer the man he once was. Years of experiments have left him torn between fragile humanity and a monstrous power that he can barely control. Every light, every shadow, every choice feels dangerous. The forests and ruins of Castor Woods don't just set the stage, they breathe, they watch, and they punish the reckless. This is survival stripped to the bone, where horror is not just outside, but inside you. Olivier Deriviere's powerful and capturing score for Dying Light: The Beast doesn't just accompany Crane's journey, it is his voice. Sometimes it whispers in empty rooms, fragile and broken, sometimes it roars with distorted rhythms and pounding drums when the Beast takes over. Between silence and sound, the music pulls you deeper into Kyle's fractured soul, making every step and every heartbeat part of the story. It's not just a soundtrack, it's the echo of a man losing, and maybe finding, himself.

»Low Tide, Hi Grypus!« is the new live-iteration of JC Leisure as JC Leisure Group. Documenting an encounter and a communication between human improvisers and atlantic grey seals. The record presents responsive improvisation as a form of cross-species collaboration.

The project began on Porthdinllaen, Wales, where Leisure recorded seal vocalisations from a local colony at low tide. Back in their Liverpool studio, Leisure developed a performance system that translates human musical gestures – pitch, timbre, rhythm, density, presence - into triggers for these seal expressions. The resulting system is dual-active, as in it simultaneously acts and is acted upon in the horizontal instance. It creates a new-music non-linear threshold that cannot be replicated.

»Low Tide, Hi Grypus!« was recorded live at 1210 Berlin and captures one instance of this concept. Local improvisers were invited to encounter the performance system. Recorded in one take, pedal-steel, woodwinds, strings, piano, organ, and electronics gradually learn to listen and respond to the marine voices. This interspecific group moves from intimate duets (that's human, seal) into full ensemble works (humans, seals) over the course of one night.

Rather than treating field recordings as static material, the extensive seal archive functions as an active collaborator: shaping form, pacing, and interaction in real-time. Now that’s marine biology meets human communication!

JC Leisure has previously released work on Sun Ark, Warm Winters Ltd, Not Not Fun and collaboratively with Dialect as Raft of Trash. He has composed a radio play commissioned and broadcast by BBC Radio.

The breakthrough album. Enrico Rava's second solo record, recorded in Milan in January 1973 and released on the German BASF label, is nothing less than a cornerstone of Italian jazz-rock - the record that caught Manfred Eicher's attention and opened the doors to ECM. Rava himself has called it his breakthrough, and history proved him right.

The lineup is killer: John Abercrombie on guitar, Bruce Johnson on bass, Chip White on drums. Four musicians operating at the absolute peak of early seventies fusion energy - electric, cosmopolitan, burning with that particular fire that only existed in that brief window when jazz met rock and nobody knew the rules yet. Abercrombie, already on his way to becoming one of the most distinctive voices in electric jazz guitar, delivers some of his most ferocious early work here. White's drumming is relentless, pushing the music forward with an intensity that never lets up.

If Miles' Bitches Brew-era speaks to you, if Ian Carr's Nucleus gets you moving, if you know Sun Ra's Lanquidity and Don Cherry's Relativity Suite by heart - this is essential listening. Rava's vision was already fully formed: South American rhythms, Mediterranean warmth, free jazz ferocity, rock power - all flowing together without borders or categories. By the early seventies, Rava had absorbed everything - the New Thing, the European free scene, the electric revolution coming out of Miles' studio - and forged something entirely his own.

The seven tracks cover serious ground. "Bunny's Pie" introduces the music with an almost cosmic atmosphere of suspense, hovering in that liminal space before it trails off into the up-tempo vibrant frenzy of "Trial N. 5" - Abercrombie and Rava trading swirling solos at full intensity, the rhythm section locked in tight. "Dimenticare Stanca" moves from Rava's expressive balladic intro into pure funk, guitar and trumpet steering over the rhythmic drive with absolute confidence. The title track carries the lyrical feel and cadence of an Incan-Peruvian folksong - that cosmopolitan spirit made audible. "Fluid Connection" rides a funky bass riff into fusion heaven, with standout trumpet and guitar solos that build and release with perfect tension. "Cheerin' Cherry" pays homage to the great Don Cherry - Rava's spiritual mentor and fellow traveler in world music - exploring a North African soundscape that points toward the global jazz to come. Johnson's "Peace" closes the album with a minute and a half of serene, blissful calm - a moment of stillness after the storm.

This audiophile reissue - cut from the original masters, pressed by Pallas in Germany on 180gm vinyl, housed in a thick laminated hand-glued gatefold - does full justice to an album that remains a collector's holy grail.

Don't sleep on this one. Limited Edition.

2026 Repress

French DJ/producer Mathys Lenne's artistic vision is rooted in his deep connection to rhythm. Telling stories with his sounds while drawing inspiration from poetry and cinema and blending hypnotic textures with raw intensity, his music is widely supported across the scene via labels like Mord, Hayes and more. Across five vinyl cuts and three digital bonuses, the four-deck wizard keeps it deeply atmospheric with his label debut on SHDW's Mutual Rytm imprint, combining elements of psychedelic rock, unique voice samples and saturated synths to create a sound that feels immersive and unrestrained in contrast to the fast-paced, visceral techno he has become known for.

'Detlev' opens up with hefty kicks that demand you quicken your step, while industrial effects and creepy design brings the detail that makes the track pop. The classy 'Natural Born Killers' rides on firm kicks with loopy percussive details tightly coiled, ensuring you are forever on edge as the drums march on. 'Choose Your Pill' is a stripped-back and pulsing deep techno cut with deft synths that peel off the groove, before 'Untidy Echo' delivers a cavernous sound with sparse hits and low-end rumbles that place you in the centre of an underground cavern. 'Enfer ou Ciel' featuring D.E.S brings a sense of melancholy in the occasional string sounds and watery droplets that float over more frictionless, meditative beats - while the trio of digital bonus cuts brings moody subterranean rollers ranging
from snaking and dubby to more drum-led and eerie tones.

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

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

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

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

Palmier is producer and rapper Rocé's new album. At the crossroads of Sade and Rakim, the album unfolds an impeccable flow over gentle melodies, the mellow sound of the saxophone softening the sharpness of the spoken truths. Rocé delivers a melody of hope, and appreciation of determination in the face of the impossible. "La Voie Lactée" features the captivating voice of Natacha Atlas and the sublime orchestrated violins of Samy Bishaï, the whole thing wrapped up in the style reminiscent of Isaac Hayes' soul and Portishead's trip-hop. "Laisse les enfants courir" reveals a soulful hip-hop, between powerful groove and relentless flow, where Rocé blends political lucidity and poetic verse while Cisko's subtle arrangements sculpt an organic, sensitive landscape, poised between tension and serenity. On "Lunaire", Rocé surprises us right away, with a sharp and melodic flow. Driven by powerful imagery and sharp lyrics, the track transforms anger into creative energy. It portrays an artist outside the mainstream, aware of the world's failings but determined to create his own haven. Palmier embodies themelancholy of unfinished struggles, perseverance, and the promise of a brighter dawn.FEAT. NATACHA ATLAS & LE VIOLONISTE SAMY BISHAI

Apollo Records proudly present the vinyl reissue of ‘Morning Light’, the acclaimed 1997 album from Mark Van Hoen’s Locust project; a work that blurred the boundaries between ambient electronics, trip-hop, and dream-pop with an emotional precision few have matched since.

Originally issued during the label’s pioneering late-’90s era, ‘Morning Light’ marked a bold evolution for Van Hoen, best known at the time for his dark, abstract ambient work under Locust and as a member of Seefeel. Seeking to create something more human and melodic, Van Hoen assembled a rotating cast of collaborators, including Zoe Niblett, Craig Bethell, Neil Halstead (Slowdive/Mojave 3), and Wendy Roberts, blending fractured dance rhythms, live instrumentation, and intimate vocal performances into something both deeply personal and effortlessly cinematic.

From the haunting reimagining of The Carpenters’ ‘No-One In The World’ to the slow blooming emotional arcs of ‘All Your Own Way,’ ‘Folie’, and ‘The Girl With The Fairytale Dream’, the album’s 13 tracks form a widescreen narrative of melancholy and beauty. Reviewers at the time hailed it as “a subtle delight” and “sheer God-given genius”, comparing its mood and texture to Massive Attack, This Mortal Coil, and Portishead, yet noting its entirely singular voice.

This reissue restores Morning Light to vinyl for the first time in over two decades. A crucial artefact from the fertile intersection of experimental electronica and ethereal pop, ‘Morning Light’ stands today as one of the label’s most quietly influential releases.

New album by SABA ALIZADEH, a groundbreaking voice in contemporary Iranian music who blends classical Persian traditions with avantgarde experimentation.

Born in Tehran in 1983 as son of the world renowned tar and setar virtuoso HOSSEIN ALIZADEH, SABA ALIZADEH established himself not only as a true master on the Iranian spike fiddle kamancheh but one of the groundbreaking voices in contemporary Iranian music, blending classical Persian traditions with avantgarde experimentation. His music, praised by THE WIRE as "a bridge between the ancient and the contemporary", turns sound and image into powerful narratives of memory and resistance. Over the past years, ALIZADEH (who relocated to the Netherlands a few years ago) has appeared at key festivals and venues such as Reeperbahn Festival, CTM, Flow Festival, Philharmonie Berlin, Kölner Philharmonie, solidifying his reputation as a singular live performer.
After the critically acclaimed releases "Scattered Memories" (his international debut, released on Karlrecords in 2019), "I May Never See You Again" (2021) and last year's "Temple of Hope", his new album fascinates again with a unique artistic voice, weaving together centuries-old sonic heritage and the urgency of the present through deeply immersive, meditative landscapes in two epic pieces. "Rituals Of The Last Dawn" may feel like a sad or resigned title (compared to the positively fierce "Temple Of Hope"), but at the same time the highly meditative music provides a good lot of contemplative strength. Appealing to an open-minded "world music" audience as well as fans of current streams of ambient or drone in its most subtle forms, ALIZADEH's latest work is a strongly needed soul food in bitter times. Created on the spot with his musical partners PIETRO CARAMELLI (guitar and electronics on "First Ritual") and LIEW NIYOMKARN (lap steel and electronics on "Last Ritual"), "Rituals Of The Last Dawn" is a pure, unfiltered emotional expression from one of contemporary Iranian music's leading artists.

Over the decades, Numero has excavated a metric ton of recordings from the depths of Detroit. From all manner of mini Motowns we’ve uncovered soul, R&B, funk, disco, boogie, and by nature of proximity—gospel. Previous examinations of the Revival and Big Mack la- bels turned up more than a few new apocryphal hymns, and Great Lakes Gospel Vol. 2 compiles a dozen curious church groups devotionally reaching towards the genre’s frayed edge. Get lost in ecstatic choir funk, pulpit rappin’, direct-injection guitar solos, and the holy spirit, should it move you. Look around the room. You could start a church with this thing.

Recorded spontaneously in a single afternoon, the album captures an unguarded musical conversation between two of the most compelling voices of their generation. Born in Brixton and now based in Harlem, Ruben Fox has emerged as a major presence on the international jazz scene, renowned for the depth of his sound, the emotional clarity of his ballad playing, and a voice rooted in tradition while speaking firmly in the present. His work follows collaborations with artists including Wynton Marsalis, Barry Harris, Roy Hargrove, Jon Batiste, and George Coleman, and builds on the critical acclaim of his 2021 debut Introducing Ruben Fox.

Micah Thomas is one of the most celebrated pianists of his generation, praised for a style that is both restlessly inventive and deeply grounded in the history of the music. A Jerome L. Greene Fellow and Juilliard alumnus, Thomas has worked extensively with Immanuel Wilkins, Joshua Redman, Ambrose Akinmusire, and Billy Drummond, and has been recognised by DownBeat, Jazz Magazine, and The New York City Jazz Record as a defining contemporary voice. Fox and Thomas first developed their musical relationship while studying at Juilliard, where they regularly played duo sets. In Two Minds was recorded on a whim at Chris Pattishall's apartment in Washington Heights, with no rehearsal, no edits, and no agenda beyond mutual respect, listening, and shared musical values. Over three hours, the pair simply showed up and played.

The result is an intimate, conversational record that foregrounds generosity, empathy, and deep musical listening. Sparse, direct, and emotionally rich, In Two Minds offers a rare document of two artists meeting in real time, balancing history, intellect, warmth, and spontaneity.

When Aretha Franklin passed away on August 16, 2018 we lost the Queen of Soul, acknowledged as the foremost female singer of her generation, someone who sold over 75 million records in her glittering career. The sadness that so many soul fans felt at that time was most acute knowing that we would never hear her beautiful voice on any new recordings. So it is with great pleasure that we present a live set from Aretha never before heard on a commercial CD. And it is with pride that we can say that the recordings, made in a TV studio in Cologne during her first European tour in 1968, are smack in the middle of soul’s Golden Age. The musical quality - the great artist at her peak – is so high that this issue can only enhance her reputation. This is prime Aretha Franklin – and soul music doesn’t get much better than this. Notes by John Ridley.

Demetrio Castellucci and Massimo Pupillo present the music of Sleep Technique, a performance by Dewey Dell inspired by the Chauvet cave and its ancient cave paintings.
The music comes to life anew on record, an immersion into the depths of sonic particles, moist electroacoustic rhythms, the repeated forms of speleothems, and the electric bass that scrapes the walls, shaping them into concave or convex surfaces. A voice that moves incredibly slowly, yet is in constant motion, like the millennia-old, unceasing erosion of water.
The album’s journey follows the geography of the cave in reverse, moving from its deepest chamber back to the entrance.

Demetrio Castellucci is a composer and sound designer who has been involved in theater productions, choreography, and film since 2004. Around the same time, he began performing as a DJ, favoring an omnitemporal approach geared toward dance that transcends musical genres. Since 2006, he has been a member of the dance company Dewey Dell, and since 2007, he has been active as Black Fanfare, a maximalist electroacoustic project. He has collaborated on performances by Andreco and Enrico Ticconi/Ginevra Panzetti, as well as on films by Ahmed Ben Nessib, Beatrice Pucci, and Ilaria di Carlo. After living in London and Berlin, he settled in Vilnius, where in 2018 he founded Unarcheology, a digital platform that publishes music and radio programs. He is also active as Airport Gad, an ambient project which, together with Unarcheology, launched its own “Airline Company”: concerts in a flight simulator built from cardboard, where the pilots are also the musicians.

Massimo Pupillo is best known as a founding member of the band Zu, with whom he has released 18 albums and performed over 2,000 live shows worldwide. He has maintained a highly open and multidisciplinary approach that has led him to work with some of the most acclaimed figures in the contemporary art world: South African photographer Roger Ballen, actors Malcolm McDowell and Marton Csokas, Romeo Castellucci and Chiara Guidi of Societas Raffaello Sanzio, American choreographer Meg Stuart, poet Anne Waldman, and Italian poet Gabriele Tinti, among others. He has collaborated live and in the studio with avant-garde musicians and composers such as Alvin Curran, piano duo Katia & Marielle Labèque, and classical virtuosos like Viktoria Mullova and Giovanni Sollima. He has also worked with some of the most influential names in the international rock scene, including Mike Patton, Thurston Moore, Jim O’Rourke (Sonic Youth), Guy Picciotto & Joe Lally (Fugazi), Buzz Osborne (Melvins), and Damo Suzuki (CAN).

In the field of improvised music, he has collaborated with Peter Brötzmann, Toshinori Kondo, Mats Gustafsson, Ken Vandermark, and Tony Buck, among others. Within the experimental music scene, his collaborations include Oren Ambarchi, David Tibet (Current 93), Thighpaulsandra (Coil), Stephen O’Malley (Sunn O))), Abul Mogard, Mick Harris (Scorn), Gordon Sharp (This Mortal Coil), FM Einheit (Einstürzende Neubauten), and many more. In cinema, he composed the score for Kirill Serebrennikov’s film LIMONOV, presented at Festival de Cannes in 2024.

Johnny Cash (1932–2003) was a legendary singer-songwriter whose deep voice and storytelling made him one of the most influential figures in American music. Blending country, rock, folk, and gospel, he created timeless songs like “I Walk the Line,” “Ring of Fire,” “Folsom Prison Blues.”, “I Got Stripes,” and “Oh Lonesome Me.” Known as The Man in Black, Cash’s music spoke to themes of love, faith, and redemption, leaving an enduring mark on generations of artists.

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

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

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

Galcher Lustwerk is a Cleveland-born, New York-based producer who has become one of the underground's most respected and unique voices. His deep tracks fuse hypnotic grooves with subtle, late-80s hip-house–inspired vocals, creating a detached yet energising take on the famous Midwest style. He's a member of the White Material collective, first gained attention with the 100% Galcher podcast mix, and has since dropped many choice Eps on the best labels in the scene, including Ghostly International, all of which have cemented his reputation as a visionary.

Shorty Out' is a dreamy late-night sound with spoken words pulling you in as balmy pads swirl without purpose, but plenty of sass. The drums are understated but poignant, inviting you to sink into the vibe and give yourself over to Reflection.

'Vestibule' is another smoky, candle-lit sound, with hunched, dusty drums that make you move without ever being the focal point. More vocal musings bring tender feels and evocative imagery as the synths speak of cosmic escape.

Closer, 'Wet Bulb' is more club-ready with techno-leaning synths and mid-tempo but purposeful drums.

Analogue textures and heady, wispy synths add plenty of human soul, making this another considered cut.

The new record follows Priddy"s sophomore LP "The Pendulum Swing" which firmly established her as one of the most exciting artists on the contemporary British music scene. Produced by Rob Ellis (PJ Harvey, Anna Calvi, Bat for Lashes), "These Frightening Machines" was written over the course of a year as Priddy made the transition from her 20s to her 30s. The most sonically varied of her career, the songs span a full spectrum of emotions from anger and despair to hope, longing and lust, from reclaiming the voices of women silenced by history, to expressing solidarity and love, to confronting illness, disconnection, the vulnerability and importance of relationships, and the general ache of growing older and not always wiser. They explore what it means to keep going when things fall apart, to hold onto connections in a world that sometimes divides, and to figure out where we fit into the machines and systems we find ourselves a part of.

The new record follows Priddy"s sophomore LP "The Pendulum Swing" which firmly established her as one of the most exciting artists on the contemporary British music scene. Produced by Rob Ellis (PJ Harvey, Anna Calvi, Bat for Lashes), "These Frightening Machines" was written over the course of a year as Priddy made the transition from her 20s to her 30s. The most sonically varied of her career, the songs span a full spectrum of emotions from anger and despair to hope, longing and lust, from reclaiming the voices of women silenced by history, to expressing solidarity and love, to confronting illness, disconnection, the vulnerability and importance of relationships, and the general ache of growing older and not always wiser. They explore what it means to keep going when things fall apart, to hold onto connections in a world that sometimes divides, and to figure out where we fit into the machines and systems we find ourselves a part of.

One of the UK’s most singular voices, Murkage Dave has spent the last decade crafting a body of work that refuses to fit neatly into any genre box. His music, loosely pop but informed by indie, outsider art, and an instinct for storytelling, is built on honesty, empathy, and fearless social commentary. Across his career, he has earned a cult following and praise from Pharrel Williams, Iggy Pop, BBC Radio 6 Music, The Guardian, Rolling Stone, Pitchfork, Clash, Complex, Highsnobiety, and Vogue. His debut album Murkage Dave Changed My Life (2018) amassed over 12 million Spotify streams, while follow-up The City Needs A Hero (2022) reached #10 on the UK iTunes Chart and #15 on the UK Independent Chart.

Finally, finally, FINALLY! After many years of fruitless praying, a true collector grail can finally grace every turntable the world over. Bright And Shining is a miraculous leftfield library classic from the genius mind of Barbara Moore. It's Highly Addictive Happiness Music TM and one of the coolest records to come out of anywhere...ever! With originals almost impossible to find - and, when they do, going for over £300 - you already know how crucial this beautiful reissue is.

Recorded in 1981 for Sylvester Music Company, Bright And Shining is breezy, dreamy and funky in a perfectly smooth jazzy-soul-groove fashion, with Moore's patented celestial male-female vocal harmonies this time benefitting from the addition of Fender Rhodes and pumping bass lines.

As one particularly enthusiastic Discogs user put it: "If Eno is responsible for Music for Airports, Moore is responsible for Music for Holidays." Indeed, this is brilliantly unique, "maximum happiness music". If you miss the sun-dappled soft-psych soul of Koushik, the heavenly vocal arrangements of the great Library Music doyenne Barbara Moore - her depth, richness, sophistication and warmth - will see you just right.

The gigantic title track, "Bright And Shining", gallops out the gate, all sophisticated, jazzy leisure-soul with sax and guitars backing Moore's effortless vocal swag in this relaxed, mid-tempo head-nod strut. Worth the price of admission alone. Up next, the sunny, vibey "Fly Me High" features strolling, "unworded" vocals (aside from the refrain of the title) alongside breezy alto sax and electric guitar. Pastoral and perfect. The slow'n'sultry "Affluence" presents a moody elegance, a classical "downlifting" gem. Another crucial highlight is the breezy "Going On Holiday". It's happy. It's sunny. It's lively. It's cool and happy. Did we say happy? A mid-tempo, romantic sax workout, "Alto Sex"presents smooth jazzy funk before the first side closes out with the soaring, jazzy "Stay With Me". Seriously uplifting.

Side B opens with "Feel Fine", an excellent uptempo and bright jazz groove. Up next, "Canon" is wracked with refinement, a peaceful, smooth vocal harmony over repeating bass making for an elegant, late-night classic. It's followed by the laconic "Smooth And Soft", a laidback, casual sophisticated soul and easy-feeling jazz gem. The jazzy "Real Thing" is another exercise in strolling sophistication, complete with wordless vocal harmonies. The fairly self-explanatory "Voice Over Sax" sounds precisely how you would expect; a relaxed sax number with heavenly vocal support! To close, the carefree "Feeling Free" is a pleasant, light and breezy mid-tempo groove.

The audio for Bright And Shining has been meticulously remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring this release sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry in Holland. The original, iconic sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue. We'll grant the final word to MillionDollars. on discogs from about 10 years ago: "If you listen to the record on a sunny day you feel like going out surfing in a white linen suit with a blunt on your lips, catching a cool breeze."