Suche:warm human

Unknown Waveforms is the forthcoming album from Belgian trio KAU, set for release on October 10, 2025. Marking an evolution since their 2023 release The Cycle Repeats, this new record captures a more personal, immediate, and unfiltered version of the band's sound. In an increasingly digital world, KAU takes a different route, with an album rooted in human connection, live energy, and creative spontaneity. Here, the trio reflect their take on instrumental music, drawing heavily fromjazz, hip hop, and electronic influences.

At the heart of Unknown Waveforms lies the starting point of three musicians in a room, writing and composing music on the spot. For KAU, this idea mirrors their working method: long jam sessions, free-flowing experimentation, and shared moments of inspiration. Songs often take shape slowly, unfolding over hours or days, but always built collaboratively as a trio.

The album's title reflects the mystery behind how music comes together, but is also both literal and symbolic. Unknown waveforms are the sounds that arise when machines and people interact in unpredictable ways. Whether you're an experienced musician or just starting out, the creative process often feels elusive and hard to fully understand. But there are also certain moments: creative sparks that can't be planned or programmed. It ends up being more than notes, gear, or structure, it's about the process, the tension and energy that builds when people connect and create in the same room.

The title track, Unknown Waveforms, captures that exact process. It opens with a quote from synth pioneer Wendy Carlos: "I'm just trying to show you how we get some of these sounds", inviting listeners directly into the creative space. The track focuses less on a polished outcome and more on the moment before a song is "finished": it's a portrait of experimentation, feeling, and raw expression.

This commitment to honesty permeates the entire album. KAU kept overdubs to a minimum, avoided excessive editing, and prioritized spontaneous choices over calculated ones. In a time when the future of live, improvised music feels uncertain, they double down on the physical, the real, and the immediate. The album resists the pristine polish of modern production, favoring the warmth and imperfection of analog synthesis. The band embraces the character of their instruments, particularly vintage gear, where subtle flaws add beauty, depth, and personality.

One standout track, cr_eye, is driven by the Moog Subphatty-a key instrument in the band's toolkit for its analog warmth and powerful sub-bass. The track centers around the conversation between bass and drums, allowing the keyboards to recede and create space. It draws emotional threads from earlier KAU tracks like Kampala and Kautokeino, bridging past and present with a shared atmosphere and rhythmic interplay.

Another highlight, Stratford, finds inspiration in London's transport system and the UK jazz scene that has long influenced KAU. A field recording snippet of the London Underground kicks off the track, connecting it to the rhythm of everyday commutes. Built around a hypnotic sequencer line from the Roland JX-3P, the track evokes the motion of a metro journey. Artists like Nubya Garcia, Yussef Dayes, and Alfa Mist, giants of the scenethat the band has admired for years, resonate subtly throughout.

Above all, Unknown Waveforms is a statement of intent from KAU: a celebration of imperfection, creative honesty and an insight in the process.

"I stood on top of the mountain and looked out over the landscape. It was so beautiful that my chest hurt. The light vibrated, time stood still, and the contours dissolved for a moment. Everything had changed; I felt it then. I took their little hands so as not to lose contact with the ground. Then we ran down the mountain, scraping our knees. Still, we didn't make it. You had already put away all the nautical charts, loosened the moorings and steered out among the skerries. Mum stood waving from the jetty. You were alone, you wanted it that way. It was to be just you in the boat this time. I called out to you. I think you heard me and felt less lonely. We couldn't carry each other anymore, no matter how hard we tried. We washed our wounds on the shore and scattered tears and rose petals in the bay. The children laughed and searched for treasures under water. We called to them that it was time to come up. They were cold, and we hugged them to warmth. One ran ahead, the other up on our shoulders. Up the mountain, our mountain."

In 2020 Anna Högberg put her widely celebrated band Anna Högberg Attack on hold, retraining as a nurse whilst continuing a solo practice and playing in other groups. With Ensamseglaren she makes a spectacular return with her own ensemble — this time a double sextet — performing an album length suite of new music written in dedication to her late father — the titular ‘ensamseglaren’ pictured on the LP cover as a young boy.

 (ensam in Swedish can mean both alone and lonely, seglaren = the sailor).

Shot through with renewed energy and a brutally affective emotional punch, Högberg’s formal experimentation opens up vibrant possibilities for the assembled musicians to let loose with some of their wildest and most ecstatic playing on record.

Högberg’s contention with grief leans into collective joy as method of mourning — the big band as extended family; where bonds are made through a shared experience of being together. Where everyone gets to be themselves without expectations of who they should be or what they can do. It’s a radical commitment to care — of her self and others — that animates and unifies this suite of music’s radical dynamics and variations in colour: from whisper-quiet textural intensity to harrowing distortion and double drum chaos; raucous and solemn song.

"Throughout history, humans have had different images of the transition between life and death. Imagine standing on the seashore on a summer evening and seeing a beautiful vessel being prepared for departure. The sails are hoisted. The evening breeze comes, the sails fill and the boat glides out onto the open sea. You follow it with your eyes as it heads towards the sunset. It gets smaller and smaller, until it finally disappears as a tiny dot on the horizon. Then you hear someone next to you say, ‘Now they have left us.’ Left us for what? The fact that they got smaller and smaller and finally disappeared is only how we see it. In reality, they are just as big and beautiful as when they were here, lying on the beach by our side. Just as you hear that voice say ‘Now they have left us’, there may be someone on another beach who sees them appear on the horizon, someone waiting to welcome them when they reaches their new port."

South London singer, songwriter and cultural powerhouse Joy Crookes has today unveiled the news that her worth-the-wait second album Juniper will be released on September 26th ahead of a full UK & EU headline tour.

A stunningly candid and fearless body of work, the album reaffirms Joy as one of the UK’s most vital and original voices. A once-in-a-generation talent, Crookes delivers a record that is both emotionally raw and sonically rich; humorous, heartbreaking and profoundly human.

Following the success of her 2021 debut Skin, which earned BRIT and Mercury Prize nominations, went Top 5 in the UK charts, and drew acclaim from The Guardian, NME and many more, Joy set out to make an album that pushed her further both musically and personally.

Juniper is the result: a project defined by its depth and dynamism.

Written with a stripped-back approach and produced by long-time collaborators including Blue May (Kano, Jorja Smith), Tev’n (Stormzy) and Harvey Grant (Arlo Parks),

Juniper features standout guest appearances from Vince Staples on the incendiary ‘Pass The Salt’ and Kano on the bittersweet confessional ‘Mathematics’.

Crookes describes the record as “more nuanced” than Skin: “With Juniper, every situation is visceral and I’m very much in it. It’s me in the centre of it all.”

The title itself nods to resilience (an evergreen that thrives in harsh conditions) and the album dives deep into themes of body politics, mental health, queer love, anxiety, industry hypocrisy and the ecstasy (and terror) of falling in love.
Lead singles like ‘Pass The Salt’ and ‘I Know You’d Kill’ showcase Crookes’ lyrical agility – blending poetic detail with razor-sharp wit. Meanwhile, the euro-pop inspired ‘First Last Dance’ channels euphoric melodies to mask deep emotional struggle, and the cinematic ‘Perfect Crime’ sees Joy fully self-actualise in the style of a Western showdown.

On ‘Paris’, the closing track, Joy reflects on a formative queer relationship: “Something I feared so much finally, actually felt like love.” It’s a sentiment echoed across Juniper – a record that captures the beauty and brutality of emotional openness.

The album arrives after a period of personal upheaval for Crookes, including a mental health crisis that shadowed the album’s creation. “I was in the trenches,” she says. “But the studio became my solace. What you hear is live and direct from that time.” Despite the darkness, Juniper radiates warmth, levity, and life, powered by Crookes’ ever-restless creativity and artistic excellence. Ahead of her performance this weekend at BBC Radio 1’s Big Weekend event in Liverpool, followed by a slot at Glastonbury, Joy is pleased to announce a full UK & EU headline tour for the backend of the year.

In celebration of Juniper's release, Joy will head out to all major cities including Dublin, Manchester, Bristol and London where she’ll play the much coveted 02 Academy Brixton for the first time. See below for full routing and ticket info.

Human Leather have always been a ferocious live act, unbelievably loud for a 2 piece. Their gigs are often an overwhelming wall of sludge, howls and amphetamine-addled drums, with spectators flying joyously around the pit. Previous recordings did full justice to the impact of the live show; however, the second helping is something else. On Here Comes the Mind, There Goes the Body the sludge is still present, rising, and lapping at your ankles, but there's a new clarity showing off exactly how f*cking good those riffs are. There are ear worm riffs for days, shout along vocals that roar, shriek and reform into a Greek chorus, drums that thump you repeatedly in the chest and then the whole thing vanishes in just under 30 minutes, leaving you bruised, deafened and with Some Questions about your life. Squint your ears a bit and you'll hear the influences of bands like Karp, Torche and Big Business but they're thrown into a much crustier stew. The lyrics span a variety of political issues, not limited to the landed gentry, global warming and consumerist harbingers of doom. Importantly the songs are also not afraid to discuss class issues (unlike many political bands who you suspect have a much sturdier security net). While this could easily feel preachy, every line is delivered with the knowing wink of the underdog and good humour (I am going to smile every time I think of "clod damn" or "QVC Hands" staring up at me from the lyric sheet), and the vibes are as they've always been in difficult times - "we know we're fucked, tonight we mosh, tomorrow we march". And what is the point of a revolution you can't dance to? Speaking of dancing, the final track features an honest-to-god dance beat, acid squelches and disembodied vocal samples, pointing to an alternative universe in which Human Leather are a heavy electroclash band. Here comes the record of the year, bring what is left of your eardrums. You didn't need that body anyway

Müne isn’t just a label—it’s a sonic language carved somewhere between the imagined and the real. Born from the fusion of the Japanese words 夢 (yume, “dream”) and 音 (oto, “sound”), Müne exists as a liminal space where emotion, memory, and sound design blur into something that feels. Less about genre, more about atmosphere. Less formula, more intuition.

The debut release capture that vision into four tracks shaped by hardware grit, dusty grooves, and moods that shift between tension and warmth.

A-side
Jose Daguerre sets the tone with Barbaria, a hypnotic loop-based workout with gritty low-end, dry drums, and a subtly evolving structure. It’s meditative, but with weight. Electro Reunión leans into stripped-down electro mechanics—tight sequencing, foggy FX, and a lingering sense of space. With Patricio Felip collab on the keyboard, both tracks feel tactile, intentional, and refreshingly unpolished.

B-side
Dani Labb brings Resfr0m, a broken-beat track that feels like it’s breathing—loose and raw, wrapped in textures that drift between dreamy and distorted. Finally, Veloz y Raptor by Juan Proeliis & Cohema closes this first release with a bouncy, dark cut full of kinetic energy, tape color, and playful detail.

MÜNE 001 is a declaration of intent: warm, human, and left-of-center. Built for deep listening and late-night systems.

NECHTO returns with its second 12” vinyl compilation, continuing the mission of presenting forward-thinking techno from both rising talents and trusted names. Each of the six tracks adds a unique voice to the raw and honest collection.
Mecha opens the record with “All My Love”, a hypnotic debut techno track shaped by years in drum and bass. Contakt follows with “Peak Jam”, a one-take hardware jam built around the warmth of a signature synth. “16th Symphony” by Human Safari is a jazz-influenced cut intended for special moments in a DJ set. Unspent delivers “Moog Gorning”, a track that shifts from percussive 4x4 to broken rhythm, carrying deep personal emotion. ARGIE’s “Strangers” captures the tension of connection and distance with layered percussion and melody. Franz Jäger closes with “Get Simon to sync”, a rave-influenced hybrid track designed for peak-time impact.
With contributions from the UK, Poland, Malta, France, the Netherlands, and Sweden, this compilation once again highlights NECHTO’s dedication to showcasing both emerging and established artists while pushing the boundaries of modern techno.

fabric, the iconic hub of electronic music culture, proudly announces its latest addition to the fabric mix series: "FABRICLIVE. presents Pola & Bryson". This mix will be a dynamic exploration of contemporary drum & bass, fluid in genre, rich in emotion, and sharp in sound design. It navigates the space between soulful reflection and controlled chaos, painting a vivid picture of contrast and transformation.

Showcasing a unique blend of melancholy, emotion, and euphoria that elegantly yet purposefully harnesses the immense power of electronic music, UK-based duo Pola & Bryson have solidified themselves as one of the most talented production duos flying the flag for the genre today.

Throughout the mix, you’ll hear liquid textures layered with depth and warmth, tracks that breathe with shimmering pads, smooth rolling drums and emotionally resonant melodies. These moments evoke late night introspection and spacious clarity, tapping into the more human, melodic side of drum & bass.

But the mix doesn’t stay in one mood for long. It periodically plunges into darker, more technical territory, where the basslines twist, the rhythms fracture and tighten and the atmosphere becomes tense and futuristic. Here, the emotional gives way to the mechanical, driving energy through razor-sharp precision and relentless force.

Experimental soundscapes weave throughout, blurring genre lines and adding moments of unpredictability. At times ambient and abstract, other times intensely rhythmic, the mix balances structure with freedom, always pushing forward without losing emotional weight.

For 25 years, fabric has stood as a cornerstone of the UK’s drum and bass movement, a place where the genre has not only thrived but evolved. More than just a club, fabric has been a vital incubator for underground sounds, consistently championing drum and bass alongside a wide spectrum of electronic music. From early pioneers to cutting-edge innovators, its legendary room two has become hallowed ground for DJs and ravers alike. As a bastion of innovation and inclusion, fabric has shaped the soundscape of UK nightlife, influencing global trends while staying fiercely true to its roots.

In addition to the mix album, fabric and Pola & Bryson unveil the brand new original single "Worlds Apart" an emotional vocal lead anthem featuring the incredible vocals of Emily Makis. The track balances Emily’s heartfelt lyricism with Pola & Bryson’s signature crisp liquid drums and deep and intoxicating basslines. The 2 acts first combined on the track "Complete" alongside Monrroe and followed it up with the certified hit, "Phoneline", dubbed by Radio 1 as the D&B Anthem of 2023. With a history of making pure magic happen when they join together in the studio, "Worlds Apart" certainly delivers on those high expectations.

Within the nine carefully composed tracks of Young Bones, Mel D’s characteristic voice stands out in all its facets, varying from fragile to powerful, haunting to playful, but most of all soulful. With a voice that’s both extraordinarily clear and melancholic, Mel D is something surprisingly rare: a singer whose artistic expression goes beyond the mere use of her voice. On Young Bones, Mel D uses contemporary figures, rephrasing them into timeless formulas. Her unique musical language embodies references to genres like Indie or Alternative. In other moments, her sound leans baroque, then jazzy, soulful, and contemplative. Each song represents an ode to being connected: to the world, other people, and most of all to the beauty of music. Mel D draws her inspiration from struggles felt in the current world climate: “I have felt overwhelmed by the world we live in and its countless challenges,” said Mel D. “As if we’re all a bit directionless in our own lives.” Nevertheless, Mel D uses her musicality as a tool for resistance - using it to transform sadness and anger into creativity, and to give world-weariness a voice that seduces, comforts, and inspires. On Young Bones, Mel D sings us to a place where we might find hope - with songs rooted in concern, solidarity, humanness, and empowerment, inviting the listener to lean into those feelings. Bring the Witches Back, a hymn to witchcraft, is a quiet song that summons the return of witches with feminist urgency, for more love and magic to open ourselves towards each other and the world. Soft, a soulful song with a tender melody, gently lulls the listener into an in-between dimension, full of opportunities. Meanwhile, in the coming-of-age ballad, Slowly Growing, she raises questions about belonging and identity, pointing directly at our emotional core. Where Do You Look When It Hurts? speaks to the sensation of exhaustion and emptiness, offering musical warmth and a sense of community in moments of lethargy. Finally, listening to the album, one always feels in good company. Playfully working in folk and electro-pop elements, Mel D takes us on a ride toward love and a sense of belonging, particularly on the track We win. Young Bones was recorded in Zurich and Paris with two outstanding producers of our times: Renaud Letang, who has previously collaborated with Feist, Chilly Gonzales or Lianne La Havas, and Dino Brandão. The latter recognized Mel D’s artistic uniqueness during their first meeting, inviting her to a recording session in his studio and bringing her into the band of Swiss superstar, Faber. Mel D’s solo project was more a product of coincidence than planning, as she says, even though an undisputed talent and passion for music had always been apparent throughout her youth. During her studies in fine arts in Zurich, she founded the electronica-duo mischgewebe, and composed soundtracks for theater and movie productions, as well as for exhibitions. Long before forming her current artistic identity, she went by the nickname Mel D, in a humorous reference to the Spice Girls. Although her personality and musical language suggest thoughtfulness and a melancholy touch, Mel D acknowledges that an honest laugh is never out of place, making her sympathetic and approachable.

Pickle Darling has always existed just outside of the periphery. In a heightened time of fast music, algorithmic consumption and rapid virality, Lukas Mayo (they/them) has remained focused on the album. Their discography is a reflection of their creative evolution, and they deliberately look for ways to push sonic boundaries from release to release. Since debuting with Bigness in 2019 followed by Cosmonaut in 2021, Mayo has curated a catalog that is deeply personal and strangely tactile, where tiny, unexpected details_an off-kilter loop, a whispered aside, the warmth of an old Casio_become as crucial as melody itself. Their 2023 LP Laundromat was a precise and polished expansion of that world, a record that felt like it had been carefully placed behind glass. Their forthcoming fourth album, Battlebots, by contrast, is unruly and full of static: a collection of songs that feel like they could only ever exist on scratched CD-Rs passed between friends. Self-recorded in their home studio in Christchurch, New Zealand, it finds Mayo taking a scalpel to their own songwriting. Songs were stretched, chopped, reversed. Some ideas started as "unlistenable garbage" before morphing into something unexpectedly beautiful. If a song felt too straightforward, Mayo had to mess it up. That friction of old and new, organic and digital, melody and noise is what drives Battlebots. Drawing inspiration from a strange, scattered lineage: Four Tet's Rounds, The Books, Neneh Cherry's Broken Politics, The Wrens' Three types of reading ambiguity, but also the emotional directness of 2000s pop like Madonna's Ray of Light and Robyn's Body Talk, the result is an album that feels like a glitch in the system, pushing against past constraints while embracing the weird, beautiful mess of making something new.

Human Dynamics label debuts with a powerful vinyl collaboration EP from Uvall & Pierce.

The first-ever split EP from two close friends combines deep tribal grooves soaked in ritualistic textures and surgical low-end.
Four driving tracks have been crafted for different use-cases and moments, from warm-ups to peak-time and after-hours sessions.

Joint release embodies Human Dynamics' belief that the people and the sound are inseparably connected.

Mate is one of Spain's most cultured deep house outlets and if you don't believe us then get your ears around this. Diego Ruiz, aka DFRA, is an Argentine music producer who here works as Experience Jazz Band and opens with 'The Human Discard' which pairs warm, cuddly drum depths and rolling grouches with majestic jazz melodies. The same story plays out through the cultured sound and magnificently arranged 'Inside The Club' then long-time deep house man Dubbyman serves up his own Breakin Jazz mix which does exactly what it says on the tin. 'Spinning In My Orbit' is a nice cosmic closer on a classy EP.

Vines, the solo project of New York-based multi-instrumentalist and composer Cassie Wieland, offers a window into her inner world through expansive swaths of sound. She pieces together a celestial mix of synths, percussion, strings, and vocoded voice, making music that is at once deeply personal and cinematic in scope. This diaristic approach first took shape with her 2023 EP Birthday Party, and is crystallized on her debut LP, I’ll be here. With the sweeping and vulnerable I’ll be here, Vines arrives fully formed as an artist who crafts deeply resonant and open music–the kind that invites listeners in to listen, reflect, and share in the journey of learning through living.

“It was through making music that I was able to meet myself,” Wieland said. “Anything I’m going through or feeling is something that somebody else out there can relate to, and that’s really special to me.”

I’ll be here is both a culmination of years spent creating gossamer soundscapes and an opening to a new journey for Wieland as an artist. The album grew out of her years as a composer and songwriter, and builds on the language she developed on Birthday Party, which transformed the tumultuous feelings of the passing of time into minimalist meditations. It was just a start, though–a prologue, a development of the kind of language and ideas she wanted to express. With I’ll be here, she digs deeper and writes music that feels more sprawling, further solidifying her singular voice.

Wieland’s musical composition process is similar to journaling, lending itself to the music’s honesty. When she writes, she makes room for all the ideas she has; in these sessions, there are no wrong ideas, and she allows the music to be attuned to the experiences she’s having at the time. With I’ll be here, Wieland zeroes in on themes of anxiety, loneliness, navigating human connection, and having to grow up from a young age, ultimately coming to a place of acceptance. And though it began as a journal written in solitude, her collaborators shape the music with her.

Working with friends, in fact, was a crucial part of bringing the record to life. “Everything that was supposed to happen came together so easily because of the people involved,” Wieland said. I’ll be here was co-produced and recorded with Wieland’s longtime collaborator Mike Tierney, a four time Grammy-nominated engineer who has worked with artists across the contemporary classical and experimental scene like minimalist pioneer Steve Reich, LA’s preeminent classical ensemble Wild Up, and various bands on Bang on a Can’s Cantaloupe Music label. Percussionist and composer Adam Holmes and violinist Adrianne Munden-Dixon are two other longtime collaborators who are frequent fixtures of her live show. Holmes plays synths, drums, and banjo; in live settings, his kit is loaded with elements of the songs that are then triggered by MIDI, making the music an interactive, evolving experience. The album’s gentle, filamented edges are colored by Munden-Dixon, whose poignant string melodies elevate Wieland’s introspective compositions, as well as cellist Helen Newby, saxophonists Julian Velasco and Jordan Lulloff, and bassist Pat Swoboda.

Wieland takes an economic approach to writing music, building the swirling and immersive landscapes of Vines through short melodies, lyrics, and phrases. As each element layers and interweaves, they grow into sprawling webs of ghostly sound. Prior to Vines, Wieland composed pieces for other people to play using a minimalist’s sensibility, writing slowly unfolding melodies for instruments like violin and saxophone. In recent years, she sharpened her solo style across a variety of singles and covers which have garnered significant attention on social media for their emotional resonance (“being loved isn't the same as being understood” in particular went massively viral on TikTok in 2024). Birthday Party, her debut as Vines, brought her writing to a much more intimate space, centering on her vocoded voice cloaked in feathery reverb. A series of recent singles, meanwhile, including “I am my home,” showcase the way that Wieland’s music is born from the story of her innermost feelings, extending far beyond just the self.

Though Wieland’s music often deals with dark themes, it unfolds with tender melancholy, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. On “Evicted,” Wieland wonders if she’s getting sick or moving on, if she’s lost or found. Her vocals expand with each lyrical repetition, as the instrumentals slowly encircle and the music’s rhythm grows and bursts into a heart-wrenching, yet radiant wave reminiscent of post-rock bands like Explosions in the Sky. “Tired” follows a similar trajectory, building from a looping, melancholy rhythm and floating lyrics into a solemn resignation. Elsewhere, Wieland takes a more ruminative approach: “Omw” begins with twinkling piano and melancholy strings that gradually transform into an undulating mass. It is a song born out of the warm feeling of reminiscence, the slight return of hope that comes with nostalgia.

With any searching journey, there is also a point of understanding. The title track closes the album with the freedom of acceptance. A marching drum beats steadily beneath Wieland’s open vocals, moving forward, ever onward as it flies into the ether. In Wieland’s delicately textured music, there is room to come into yourself, and learn to love whomever that is. I’ll be here is a special space that can be all your own, one in which to feel what needs to be felt. “This is music for your story,” Wieland said. “I want you to use it how you need it.”

Named after the old district where Jesse lived during one of the most vibrant years of his life, La Pavonia EP captures the warmth, unpredictability, and deep musical curiosity that define him. Drawing from memories of joy, love, and discovery—and echoing the floral name linked to Runas' Spanish roots—the EP unfolds across four distinctive cuts.

“Crystal Swamp” opens the journey with eerie pads, buzzing synths, and a groove shaped by introspective winter days. “Body Blaster” follows with a raw, body-moving rhythm, born from a shift between Electro and Progressive moods and anchored by a punchy TX-81Z bassline. On the flip, “Warp” plays with imperfection and transformation, turning a single synth and stretched percussion sample into something strangely human. The EP closes with a remix of “Warp” by Belgian-Peruvian producer DC Salas who transforms Warp into a slow-burning, groove-heavy trip, layering thick basslines, subtle percussive shifts, and a progressive pulse. It's a hypnotic rework that keeps the original’s raw textures while opening it up for late-night floors and deeper moments.

With this new EP called "Last Night A Bassline Saved My Life", again released on Unsure, Stefan Schwander further refines the philosophy and sound of his latest concept While My Sequencer Gently Bleeps. Following his idea of reduction Schwander used only the Elektron Monomachine to shape four amazing tracks, beautifully balanced, searching for the perfect groove, stripped of all unnecessary.
"Compromise", the first track, may even be a reminiscence to Schwanders legendary releases as Antonelli Electr, supertransparent and supercrisp, yet still warm, deep and human, an understated wonder of a track! "Persona" and the title track got those dubby chords and effective synths, an inimitable tightness and basslines that can save your life indeed. And on "Escalator" Schwander comes up with extraordinary rolling and twisting rhythms and some sonic essentials that only the master of the sequencer can deliver. Distinguished.

Vice Squad are 100% DIY and record everything in their home studio with guitarist/riffmaster Paul Rooney engineering and mixing. There is nothing sloppy here; the whole album is concise and intelligent with lightning-speed diction, passion, and intent. The glorious ‘If I Knew What I Know Now’ and ‘The World Is Wrong’ are examples of Vice Squad’s ability to write instantly catchy, witty songs, and the more gut-wrenching material from their last album, ‘Battle of Britain’, showcases some enormous riffs and a voice that is a million decibels from Beki's untried teen vocals. The album opens with the deliciously effervescent ‘If I Knew What I Know Now’, followed by the sparkling old-school tongue-twister ‘Out of Reach’. Next up is the visceral ‘Get A Life’, an angry anti-suicide note to the desperate, originally the title track from their 1998 comeback album. This is followed by a shimmering version of Vice Squad's old-school classic ‘Resurrection’. While the treatment of the old songs remains true to the original teenage renditions, the upgraded versions pack more of a punch with detuned guitars and growling bass. The tribal tom-toms of ‘Allergy’ underpin just over two minutes of punk protest about the delights of pollution and asthma. Then comes the sublime ‘Sniffing Glue’, a near-perfect punk love song that would be a huge hit if not for its subject matter. ‘Ordinary Girl’ is punk-pop perfection brimming with hook lines and harmonies, warmly mocking the life that could have been chosen instead of the grindstone at the sharp end of the music industry. ‘The World Is Wrong’ is anthemic, joyous, and wonderfully contrary, and one would expect nothing less from a band that has soldiered on and grown through the decades. It’s always great when bands lead by example. In these increasingly tough times where our survival is threatened by the gargantuan greed of a few individuals, it's important to continuously stick two fingers up to the grabbers and spoilers. 'The World Is Wrong' does just that in an impassioned, melodic, and optimistic style. 'Hold your head up, stand your ground, and don't let the bastards grind you down.' Then we roar into the final single Beki wrote with original and now sadly deceased guitarist Dave Bateman, ‘Citizen’, and continue with another teenage opus, the quite brutal ‘Scarred For Life’. ‘Voice of the People’ is a bulldozer of a song, all swagger and ballsy riffs, and the chorus, ‘Freedom of speech is against the law; now we’re all criminals,’ snarls its derision at red-handed red tape. ‘Punk Police’ sneers over a catchy-as-COVID guitar riff, and the lyrics, ‘Regulation cut, you must measure up, down on the street, PR companies, monied families, running the scene,’ call out the hierarchies that now permeate Punk. Baritone guitars add extra darkness to one of the first-ever animal rights songs, ‘Humane’, and I’m struck by how relevant the older songs are. Chocks away, and the awesome ’Spitfire’ takes flight like Motörhead on extra amphetamines. Merlin engines fade into ‘Born In A War’, the second in the triumvirate of conflict-themed songs, an absolute stonker with huge muscular riffs and lyrics that roar pure outrage. Then comes the ominous Last Rockers, with all the angst of the original plus added depth and resonance. Beki: ' "Last Rockers" is a typically depressive adolescent song about nuclear war and being too young to die but too late to live. I believed Punks were the ‘Last Rockers’, the final youth cult before the Apocalypse. I was obsessed with punk, and all I wanted to do was sing in a band and be part of the movement, so I would often romanticise the idea of punk in my lyrics.' The four bonus CD tracks kick off with ‘Coward’, another teen Bateman/Bond composition. ‘No You Don’t’ is just over two minutes of vocal acrobatics over a Dexedrine-driven Devo-esque chord sequence, and the frantically brilliant ‘I Dare To Breathe’ from ‘Battle of Britain’ continues the aural assault. Then the final sombre entreaty of ‘You Can’t Buy Back The Dead’ warns us that ‘Enough’s never enough; absolute power will corrupt; the war machine still rumbles on’ before fading into the future.

Best of' albums are invariably repackaged collections of old recordings, so Vice Squad's `Punk Rockers' is a breath of fresh air The songs have been lovingly recorded and remastered, keeping all the original fire and adding decades of experience gained from punishing tours and continuous songwriting Beki is the original architect of the songs and the Vice Squad name, and she is the sole surviving member of the original lineup to have continued as a full-time musician Vice Squad are 100% DIY and record everything in their home studio with guitarist/riffmaster Paul Rooney engineering and mixing. There is nothing sloppy here; the whole album is concise and intelligent with lightning-speed diction, passion, and intent. The glorious `If I Knew What I Know Now' and `The World Is Wrong' are examples of Vice Squad's ability to write instantly catchy, witty songs, and the more gut-wrenching material from their last album, `Battle of Britain', showcases some enormous riffs and a voice that is a million decibels from Beki's untried teen vocals. The album opens with the deliciously effervescent `If I Knew What I Know Now', followed by the sparkling old-school tongue-twister `Out of Reach'. Next up is the visceral `Get A Life', an angry anti-suicide note to the desperate, originally the title track from their 1998 comeback album. This is followed by a shimmering version of Vice Squad's old-school classic `Resurrection'. While the treatment of the old songs remains true to the original teenage renditions, the upgraded versions pack more of a punch with detuned guitars and growling bass. The tribal tom-toms of `Allergy' underpin just over two minutes of punk protest about the delights of pollution and asthma. Then comes the sublime `Sniffing Glue', a near-perfect punk love song that would be a huge hit if not for its subject matter. `Ordinary Girl' is punk-pop perfection brimming with hook lines and harmonies, warmly mocking the life that could have been chosen instead of the grindstone at the sharp end of the music industry. `The World Is Wrong' is anthemic, joyous, and wonderfully contrary, and one would expect nothing less from a band that has soldiered on and grown through the decades. It's always great when bands lead by example. In these increasingly tough times where our survival is threatened by the gargantuan greed of a few individuals, it's important to continuously stick two fingers up to the grabbers and spoilers. 'The World Is Wrong' does just that in an impassioned, melodic, and optimistic style. 'Hold your head up, stand your ground, and don't let the bastards grind you down.' Then we roar into the final single Beki wrote with original and now sadly deceased guitarist Dave Bateman, `Citizen', and continue with another teenage opus, the quite brutal `Scarred For Life'. `Voice of the People' is a bulldozer of a song, all swagger and ballsy riffs, and the chorus, `Freedom of speech is against the law; now we're all criminals,' snarls its derision at red-handed red tape. `Punk Police' sneers over a catchy-as-COVID guitar riff, and the lyrics, `Regulation cut, you must measure up, down on the street, PR companies, monied families, running the scene,' call out the hierarchies that now permeate Punk. Baritone guitars add extra darkness to one of the first-ever animal rights songs, `Humane', and I'm struck by how relevant the older songs are. Chocks away, and the awesome 'Spitfire' takes flight like Motörhead on extra amphetamines. Merlin engines fade into `Born In A War', the second in the triumvirate of conflict-themed songs, an absolute stonker with huge muscular riffs and lyrics that roar pure outrage. Then comes the ominous Last Rockers, with all the angst of the original plus added depth and resonance. Beki: ' "Last Rockers" is a typically depressive adolescent song about nuclear war and being too young to die but too late to live. I believed Punks were the `Last Rockers', the final youth cult before the Apocalypse. I was obsessed with punk, and all I wanted to do was sing in a band and be part of the movement, so I would often romanticise the idea of punk in my lyrics.'

Best of' albums are invariably repackaged collections of old recordings, so Vice Squad's `Punk Rockers' is a breath of fresh air The songs have been lovingly recorded and remastered, keeping all the original fire and adding decades of experience gained from punishing tours and continuous songwriting Beki is the original architect of the songs and the Vice Squad name, and she is the sole surviving member of the original lineup to have continued as a full-time musician Vice Squad are 100% DIY and record everything in their home studio with guitarist/riffmaster Paul Rooney engineering and mixing. There is nothing sloppy here; the whole album is concise and intelligent with lightning-speed diction, passion, and intent. The glorious `If I Knew What I Know Now' and `The World Is Wrong' are examples of Vice Squad's ability to write instantly catchy, witty songs, and the more gut-wrenching material from their last album, `Battle of Britain', showcases some enormous riffs and a voice that is a million decibels from Beki's untried teen vocals. The album opens with the deliciously effervescent `If I Knew What I Know Now', followed by the sparkling old-school tongue-twister `Out of Reach'. Next up is the visceral `Get A Life', an angry anti-suicide note to the desperate, originally the title track from their 1998 comeback album. This is followed by a shimmering version of Vice Squad's old-school classic `Resurrection'. While the treatment of the old songs remains true to the original teenage renditions, the upgraded versions pack more of a punch with detuned guitars and growling bass. The tribal tom-toms of `Allergy' underpin just over two minutes of punk protest about the delights of pollution and asthma. Then comes the sublime `Sniffing Glue', a near-perfect punk love song that would be a huge hit if not for its subject matter. `Ordinary Girl' is punk-pop perfection brimming with hook lines and harmonies, warmly mocking the life that could have been chosen instead of the grindstone at the sharp end of the music industry. `The World Is Wrong' is anthemic, joyous, and wonderfully contrary, and one would expect nothing less from a band that has soldiered on and grown through the decades. It's always great when bands lead by example. In these increasingly tough times where our survival is threatened by the gargantuan greed of a few individuals, it's important to continuously stick two fingers up to the grabbers and spoilers. 'The World Is Wrong' does just that in an impassioned, melodic, and optimistic style. 'Hold your head up, stand your ground, and don't let the bastards grind you down.' Then we roar into the final single Beki wrote with original and now sadly deceased guitarist Dave Bateman, `Citizen', and continue with another teenage opus, the quite brutal `Scarred For Life'. `Voice of the People' is a bulldozer of a song, all swagger and ballsy riffs, and the chorus, `Freedom of speech is against the law; now we're all criminals,' snarls its derision at red-handed red tape. `Punk Police' sneers over a catchy-as-COVID guitar riff, and the lyrics, `Regulation cut, you must measure up, down on the street, PR companies, monied families, running the scene,' call out the hierarchies that now permeate Punk. Baritone guitars add extra darkness to one of the first-ever animal rights songs, `Humane', and I'm struck by how relevant the older songs are. Chocks away, and the awesome 'Spitfire' takes flight like Motörhead on extra amphetamines. Merlin engines fade into `Born In A War', the second in the triumvirate of conflict-themed songs, an absolute stonker with huge muscular riffs and lyrics that roar pure outrage. Then comes the ominous Last Rockers, with all the angst of the original plus added depth and resonance. Beki: ' "Last Rockers" is a typically depressive adolescent song about nuclear war and being too young to die but too late to live. I believed Punks were the `Last Rockers', the final youth cult before the Apocalypse. I was obsessed with punk, and all I wanted to do was sing in a band and be part of the movement, so I would often romanticise the idea of punk in my lyrics.'

Promising label newcomer IGLO returns to Figure with his second EP this year, building on a distinct sonic identity shaped by a background in classical music and live performance. Across five tracks, he further refines his mix of atmospheric depth, precise rhythms, and melodic nuance.
This time, his own voice takes on a more central role, adding a personal and expressive layer to the productions. On opener Computed Love, restrained, longing vocals blend into squelchy synths and minimal grooves - hauntingly beautiful, yet gritty with rumbling machine funk. Determined follows with a more menacing tone, its sharp percussion cutting through a bleak, shadowy atmosphere - perfect for building tension on the floor.
On the flip, IGLO switches up the mood: Enter the State runs on hypnotic loops and chopped-up piano riffs, peppered with cheeky, spoken-word style vocals that nod to ghetto house traditions. It breaks into an irresistible, swinging groove that hits with full force.
Offering a smooth counterpoint, Enlighten drifts into dubby terrain. Soft, ricocheting vocal snippets and warm chords conjure a hopeful, human glow - a bouncy balm for the soul, without losing its forward momentum.
Digital bonus track Find Yourself closes the EP on a spacious, almost sci-fi note - twinkling synths and airy melodies float above crisp textures, like a breath of fresh air at the end of a long night.With X49, IGLO deepens his connection with Figure and sharpens his unique voice - equally grounded in introspection and dancefloor impact, continuing to shape a sound that's thoughtful, bold, and marks him as one to watch.

Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.



Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.



Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”



But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.



The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.



“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.



Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.



Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

2023 Repress

It's the quiet ones we should watch, they always say. Which is particularly astute advice right now, when loud, constant self-declaration and saturated 'brand' visibility have become the norm. But above the babble and brightness, some voices will always speak quiet volumes ­- with calm eloquence and the kind of certitude that comes from valuing the playing out, not just the prize.

Sweden's José González is just such a voice. He first charmed his way into the UK's earshot via the murmurous and elegant, classically finger-picked folk pop of his 2005 album, Veneer, which has since sold over a staggering 430, 000 copies in UK alone. Two years later came In Our Nature, a further exploration of José's influences (Argentinian Folklore, the '60s US folk tradition and the British pastoral folk-pop style of the same era), on which he resisted the temptation to beef up his alluringly introvert aesthetic. The albums made the UK Top 10 and Top 20 respectively.

Conceived as the natural third part in an acoustic trilogy, Vestiges & Claws is a(nother) hushed and delicate solo set that forefronts the artist and guitarist's compellingly intimate vocal style and intricate playing technique, but it's often strikingly rhythmic in nature and cohere's perfectly, with hand claps and taps on the body of his instrument underlining the songs' mantric rise-and-fall pattern, while elsewhere, over-dubbed guitar parts and multi-tracked vocal harmonies entwine to sweetly immersive effect.

The title refers to both cultural practices and biological features that survive despite having lost their original function, and to currently useful tools, ie the 'claws' of modern life.

Vestiges & Claws was recorded almost entirely by José and self-produced, mostly in his Gothenburg home, using computer plug-ins to achieve a warm, analogue sound. He prefers working alone, mainly for artistic reasons. 'There were a couple of things that enabled me to complete this record: one was curiosity, to be able to play percussion and do a lot of harmonies and also to produce and mix the album; the other was aesthetics. I love to listen to Arthur Russell and Shuggie Otis, to music that has been done mostly by one person in their solitary state.'

As José sees it, the record is his personal, 'zoomed-out eye on humanity on a small, pale blue dot in a cold, sparse and unfriendly space. The amazing fact that we are all here, an attempt at encouraging us to understand ourselves and to make the best of the one life we know we have - after birth and before death.