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LP auf wolkenweißem Vinyl! Original-Soundtrack für den Film "Past Lives" (2023) kommt von Christopher Bear und Daniel Rossen, die gemeinsam die Indie-Rock-Band Grizzly Bear bilden und deren Musik zuvor in zahlreichen Filmen und Fernsehproduktionen verwendet wurde. Der Originalsong "Quiet Eyes" ist von Sharon Van Etten. Das Artwork enthält Originalgemälde der renommierten Künstlerin Na Kim. Der Debütfilm der Regisseurin Celine Song feierte im Januar 2023 beim Sundance Film Festival seine Premiere und erhielt viel Lob seitens der Fachkritik. In Deutschland wurde der Film erstmals im Rahmen der Berlinale im Februar 2023 vorgestellt. Dort konkurrierte Past Lives im Wettbewerb um den Goldenen Bären, den Hauptpreis des Festivals. Der Kinostart in Deutschland fand am 17. August 2023 statt.

BADBADNOTGOOD is a young supremely talented trio of musicians made up of Matthew Tavares on keys, Chester Hansen on bass, and Alex Sowinski on drums. Since their inception at Humber College’s Music Performance program in 2011, the three have challenged the rule book on improvised instrumental music and taken jazz tradition into the future.
With early champions including acclaimed BBC broadcaster Gilles Peterson and Tyler The Creator who helped fuel their discovery with a series of live jams that instantly went viral and dubbed them the “Odd Trio”, the band released their first EP BBNG in June 2011 to wide praise. The marriage of jazz virtuosity and hip hop source material offered a fresh take on the traditional “standard” applied to hip hop classics by taking on choice cuts from the golden era rap cannon and writing inspired arrangements for them instead of one-dimensional covers.
The band hit a landmark by introducing original material into their composi- tions with BBNG2 in 2012. New songs like “Rotten Decay”, “Vices” or “UWM” carried on the proud heritage of musical juxtaposition by bringing together jazz, hip hop, punk, and dance music into vigorous balance. Since then, they’ve won praise from the four corners of the globe and collaborated with Frank Ocean, Earl Sweatshirt, MF Doom, Pharaoh Monch and RZA among many. Their no- torious live performances have brought fans across the whole musical spectrum together, taking the band around the world from Coachella to Glastonbury.
Now, the inseparable friends are prepping to release their biggest project to date III on prodigious young label Innovative Leisure, a highly-anticipated project ushering in the group’s newest explorations which are proving to be limitless.

David Tattersall, the Wave Pictures guitarist and frontman releases a solo album of interpretations of John Fahey tunes, recorded live in the studio. "I have been a fan of John Fahey's music since I was very young; it has always been with me and I can't remember a time when I wasn't affected by it. It is weird music, and very good. Of course, Fahey is an important cult figure in the history of music: as the first man to find a language for steel string guitar that can stand proudly alongside the established tradition of nylon string classical guitar; as one of many men who rediscovered obscure old blues musicians and recorded them for a new generation in the 1960s; as one uniquely able to reconcile 20th century avant-garde music with folk tradition; as an early indie-label DIY pioneer. For me personally, Fahey went beyond technique, and to some extent beyond historical or intellectual justifications for his work. He explored his emotions through his instrument of choice, and in so doing made the case for the guitar as the ultimate conduit for emotional expression. While there are many imitators who try to play ''like Fahey'', I avoided using his fingerpicking style or sense of rhythm, and tried instead to use his music to explore my own emotions, my own dreams and memories. I was more interested in the lyrical and expressive aspects of Fahey's music than in the techniques of it. I tried to find myself within his compositions and without composing anything I feel that I have managed to make a David Tattersall record that says as much about me as any of the many albums that I have written. John Fahey's beautiful discography shows that the guitar can carry as much mystery and soul as the human voice, and simply put, I wanted in on a little of this action. This is my second all-instrumental solo acoustic album, and where this differs from my first attempt, Little Martha, is that here I improvised freely. I used Fahey's originals only as guides. I'm not sure what I was looking for, perhaps something beyond explanation, but I tried to be as free as possible, and I am delighted by the spontaneous results. Hopefully, they will make the listener feel happy and dreamy, just like the effect that Fahey's many albums have on me. One of the most important things that Fahey ever said was his advice to guitarists to try to feel the emotions that each chord they play on a guitar brings forth. He is telling guitarists to not only play the guitar, but to let the guitar play them. I did my best to follow this advice. I hope you enjoy listening to the album, that it brings you some dreamy moments, and that it sends you back to happily explore the originals. I had a great time recording it. Naturally, I can't put the experience adequately into words but that's the whole point. I think Fahey was a genius of the kind that creates a whole genre single-handedly. There could be thousands, millions, of reinterpretations of his compositions. In fact, there probably already are. And long may this continue. All tracks were recorded live with no tampering."

The entity known as ALTERNATIVE TENTACLES, would like to express its excitement to be working with the Seattle, WA based BAND Sandrider, and enjoyed the previous relationship of Damm and Weisnewski in their former entity known as AKIMBO. ALTERNATIVE TENTACLES is very much a fan of previous work from the BAND on Satanik Royalty Records and highly recommend new listeners investigate the discography further. The upcoming 2-song single by BAND, hereafter referred to as AVIARY/BALEEN has a limited-edition initial pressing on blue and white splatter vinyl pressing of 300 copies, and successive runs will not be as colorful. Immediate orders are encouraged. This cheeky duality of Sandrider is also captured perfectly in the subject matter of the EP’s two tracks: The explosive first track, “Aviary,” portrays the modern hellscape of social media as sinister, soulless mama bird, willfully vomiting disinformation into the eager mouths of enthusiastically consenting participants. “PLEASE MOTHER, FEED THEM YOUR BILE. DOUSE THE BABES WITH YOUR WHOLESOME RETCH,” vocalist/guitarist Jon Weisnewski wails over massive, frenetic riffs, rounded out by bassist Jesse Roberts’ warm low end and drummer Nat Damm’s ultra-hard, punch-like beats. The song concludes in a frenzy of danceable beats, with Weisnewski doing his best Painkiller-era Halford screams as he commands you to flood the whole damn thing – drown those who wish to destroy us. As pissed off as the song is, you’ll feel triumphant by the end anyway. Side B’s “Baleen” on the other hand (while ironically the angrier-sounding song of the two), is about a lighter thought that keeps Weisnewski up at night: Do you ever think about how fucking weird whales are? They’re enormous floating creatures that can't handle gravity, and they hang out in the deepest oceans. Yet they can’t breathe underwater, so they have to stay near the top and come up for air all the time. Seems inconvenient. And you’d think that the biggest mammal that ever lived would be a brutal carnivore, right? But no. They eat the tiniest creatures, through a bunch of hair in their mouths. What the fuck? Anyway, ponder on that while you bang your head along with Sandrider’s signature primal, hypnotizingly heavy riffs.

David Tattersall, the Wave Pictures guitarist and frontman releases a solo album of interpretations of John Fahey tunes, recorded live in the studio. "I have been a fan of John Fahey's music since I was very young; it has always been with me and I can't remember a time when I wasn't affected by it. It is weird music, and very good. Of course, Fahey is an important cult figure in the history of music: as the first man to find a language for steel string guitar that can stand proudly alongside the established tradition of nylon string classical guitar; as one of many men who rediscovered obscure old blues musicians and recorded them for a new generation in the 1960s; as one uniquely able to reconcile 20th century avant-garde music with folk tradition; as an early indie-label DIY pioneer. For me personally, Fahey went beyond technique, and to some extent beyond historical or intellectual justifications for his work. He explored his emotions through his instrument of choice, and in so doing made the case for the guitar as the ultimate conduit for emotional expression. While there are many imitators who try to play ''like Fahey'', I avoided using his fingerpicking style or sense of rhythm, and tried instead to use his music to explore my own emotions, my own dreams and memories. I was more interested in the lyrical and expressive aspects of Fahey's music than in the techniques of it. I tried to find myself within his compositions and without composing anything I feel that I have managed to make a David Tattersall record that says as much about me as any of the many albums that I have written. John Fahey's beautiful discography shows that the guitar can carry as much mystery and soul as the human voice, and simply put, I wanted in on a little of this action. This is my second all-instrumental solo acoustic album, and where this differs from my first attempt, Little Martha, is that here I improvised freely. I used Fahey's originals only as guides. I'm not sure what I was looking for, perhaps something beyond explanation, but I tried to be as free as possible, and I am delighted by the spontaneous results. Hopefully, they will make the listener feel happy and dreamy, just like the effect that Fahey's many albums have on me. One of the most important things that Fahey ever said was his advice to guitarists to try to feel the emotions that each chord they play on a guitar brings forth. He is telling guitarists to not only play the guitar, but to let the guitar play them. I did my best to follow this advice. I think Fahey was a genius of the kind that creates a whole genre single-handedly. There could be thousands, millions, of reinterpretations of his compositions. In fact, there probably already are. And long may this continue. All tracks were recorded live with no tampering

Liam Cromby, known for his work as the lead singer and songwriter of We Are The Ocean until 2017, has today announced his forthcoming debut solo album What Can I Trust, If I Can’t Trust True Love, due for release on December 1st 2023, also sharing the title track, available to stream/download worldwide now.

His lyrics, whether in the heavy, four-piece rock band setting of his former life, or in the more soulful, acoustic-led songs of his solo work, have frequently touched on deep topics, often reflecting on the meaning of life itself, and a search for a sense of purpose. With the release of What Can I Trust, If I Can’t Trust True Love, he hopes to reach other people asking similar questions, and it’s clear that the music is already starting to find its way into their lives.

Michael Chapman (1941-2021) released his debut album Rainmaker in 1969 on Harvest. He went on to release over fifty albums and influence many with his evocative songwriting and guitar prowess. From heady jams to expressive ballads to experimental noise, Chapman’s work continues to inspire. Tompkins Square recruited Henry Parker to curate a collection of covers by working musicians from Chapman’s home turf in Northern England. With stunning artwork by local artist Bunty Marshall mapping the important places in Michael’s life, this 12th volume of Tompkins Square’s Imaginational Anthem series is the ultimate tribute to a very dearly missed artist. Notes from Henry Parker: Tompkins Square approached me in Autumn 2022 about putting together a tribute album to Michael Chapman who had passed away one year ago, on my birthday, in 2021. I remember it well; Michael Chapman had always been a huge inspiration to me since starting out on the acoustic guitar and was the first artist I had heard who played the instrument with that heavy thumb, drop tuned sound. I first got the chance to see him live at the Bradford experimental music festival Threadfest in 2015 and then went on to watch him play many more times, in the northern towns of Halifax, Hebden Bridge and Preston, also getting the chance to support him on a couple of his Yorkshire dates in 2018, in Saltaire and his hometown of Leeds. With both Michael Chapman and myself proudly coming from the county of Yorkshire in northern England, Tomkins Square and I decided to make this compilation decidedly Yorkshire focused, bringing together seven other artists from the county who have drawn influence from the profound music of this man.For those who don’t know, Yorkshire is an area that spans much of northern England, with its people taking great pride in the county, never too seriously, and poking fun at the “soft south” or it’s near neighbour Lancashire. Michael’s sound always spanned from introspective folk songwriting to more experimental forms and naturally so does this album, created for Tompkins Square. When it came to choosing musicians to contribute to the record, I was grateful for the Yorkshire limitation on who I could draw from, as the resulting album is comprised of eight artists, who have all shared stages with each other across the folk and experimental scenes in the area. The lack of “bigger” names on the record feels natural, there’s no ego about this project as there never was with Michael, who always seemed content touring the smaller clubs and making records for anyone who was interested. The artwork for the project came together organically, and firmly within the Yorkshire cottage industry. Two months before I was asked to put this album together, I had played a show in Leeds for the launch of a new zine, centred on folklore and mythology. The artist and founder of the zine Bunty has an exceptional eye for detail and a profound love of Yorkshire landscape and culture. Her intricate maps and illustrations created for ‘Hwaet’ zine were the perfect starting point the for this record, and the cover art and inner sleeve is an ocean of detail for Michael Chapman’s incredible life, music and his connection to Yorkshire

Following on from the psychoacoustic concrète of Outside Ludlow / Desert Disco LP (BT075), Sam Dunscombe returns to Black Truffle with Two Forests / Oceanic. Dunscombe has been active in recent years on multiple fronts, including as a key member of the Berlin community of Just Intonation researchers and practitioners; working with composers like Taku Sugimoto, Mary Jane Leach, and Anthony Pateras; and the release of Horatiu Radulescu - Plasmatic Music vol. 1 (the result of many years performance research into the thought and music of this seminal Romanian spectralist). In parallel with these activities, Dunscombe has been deeply involved in research on the role of music in psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy, prompting these two side long pieces, composed using field recordings and digital synthesis. As Dunscombe explains in the accompanying liner notes, music plays a key role in psychedelic-assisted therapy, yet it is often restricted to stock forms of New Age, ambient and electronica. Taking seriously the potential for spatio-environmental sonic experiences to add to the therapeutic process, these two pieces are intended to suggest how ‘a music-as-environment approach may help to add options to the therapist’s toolbox’. ‘Two Forests’ begins in a central Californian sequoia grove. Bird songs and buzzing insect life are treated with a variety of time-based processing methods (slicing and recombination, primitive granular synthesis, delay, and so on), which strip the field recordings of their linear, documentary character, reframing them in an enchanted web of traces and echoes. Analysing the pitches found in the original recordings, Dunscombe used them to generate a large Just Intonation pitch set. These tones are woven slowly into the field recordings, gradually building in density and complexity until the forest has been transformed into an unreal space of infinite proportions. Emerging from this cosmic expanse in the final minutes of the piece, we find ourselves in the Amazon rainforest outside Manaus, Brazil. As Dunscombe writes, the piece creates ‘a sense of place-gone-strange, of space and time simultaneously expanding and contracting across octaves, miles, and minutes’. On ‘Oceanic’, several recordings of different beaches fade in and out to create a texture both homogenous and constantly shifting in both the rhythm of the waves and each recording's sense of depth and distance. Tones relating in simple ratios to the average rhythm of each beach float over each other, colouring the white noise texture of the field recordings with shifting hues. In both pieces, Dunscombe forgoes the easy consonance that bogs down much contemporary ambient music for a richer harmonic array informed by extended tuning practices and spectralism. The end results suggest a hitherto undreamt-of meeting of Radulescu’s undulating sonic masses and the discreetly processed location recordings of Irv Teibel’s ‘psychologically ultimate’ Environments. Looking beyond the insularity that can afflict experimental music culture, Dunscombe’s work is a moving argument for the healing power of expanded approaches to sound and music. Even outside of a psychedelics-assisted therapy, frequent immersion in Two Forests / Oceanic is almost guaranteed to produce beneficial psychological results.

Mount Maxwell returns with another full-length journey into memory, melody, and geography - this time roaming beyond the BC environs of his previous records into a stranger, less knowable country. While still woozily nostalgic in the vein of Only Children and The People’s Forest, this outing feels more exploratory and wide ranging in scope, with a denser mixture of influences at play. The somnambulistic drift of Sea of Milk sets the stage with a series of wavering synth pulses that push us languidly toward land, eventually setting us down on the sands of Maze Crete, where a shadowy latticework of hand drums, flutes and synths await. From there we ascend to the aptly named Sky Eye, a rolling mixture of acoustic beats and analog string machines that gives us our first bird’s eye view of the album’s landscape. A Long Road pushes the acoustic instrumentation further, with shimmering tambourine marking time for a collection of hand drums and shakers, while Ages summons up an occult-like dream of glacial arpeggios and whispering synths. Slow Moves and Tree Motion float effortlessly along on beds of lazy congas and woodblocks before finally giving way to the title track - a heady juggernaut of distorted synths and trundling rhythms that propels us through the album’s second half like a locomotive through darkening hills. Drawing the record to a close, the gently repeating keyboard phrase of Mist blooms unexpectedly into a rainbow of human voices before evaporating into the oceanic swells of Hi Traveller. And there Littlefolk leaves us as it found us; adrift in a rolling sea.

Only 200 copies of black 180g vinyl was made.

"Macrodose" is an album recorded in the classic form of Producer & MC, (Antiquant and Prykson Fisk). JuNouMi Records (est. 2002) gives this hip-hop project the highest mark of quality. Real underground rap album including many guests such as Axel Holy and King Kashmere from UK.

Prykson writes about the album as follows: Macrodose is a lyrical "trip report" with a perfect musical accompaniment, a diary of a total life transformation inspired by the power of medicine contained in entheogens.

To emphasize the urban character of the project, we asked the well-known street artist TYBER to create the graphic design of the album, which is ultimately based on a dedicated mural painted in September in Gdańsk.

Mr. Aleksander aka Prykson Fisk aka Fred Flin100NER is 170 kg of live hip-hop. Beat-boxer, MC and DJ, associated with Hip-Hop culture since 2003. Prykson is an experienced psychonaut and owner of the KOMORA REC home studio. Creator and author of over 20 albums and mixtapes. His official debut K02M02 (2020) landed in the respectable 7th place of OLiS... Representative of the MOST BLUNTED team, KOLOKOS - one of the creators and founder of such projects as: Renegaci Funku, Hedora, Prykson Ifs and Dusty Vibez. He played beats in every genre, from dubstep, grime, drum and bass, through rap, to jazz and funk played live with a band. He has conducted countless workshops in the field of hip hop (beat-box, rap) throughout Poland... A fan of good food, underground music, multidimensional visual art and conspiracy theories. An experienced gourmand of life and a well-known local healer.

Antiquant - 24-year-old producer from Zielona Góra. He has collaborated with artists such as Ryfa Ri, Mada, Asthma, Mareceli Bober. With his beats, he tries to drown the listener in an ocean of cosmic sounds. The axis of its production is the artistic achievements of producers such as flying lotus, monte booker and j dilla. In his songs, he does not limit himself to one style, his beats are often a patchwork of various genres of music. In his productions you can hear boom bap drums, trap eight hundred eighth notes and jazz trumpets coexisting in the strangest musical ecosystems. Antiquant appreciates experiments, loves to push his boundaries, look for undiscovered sounds and use effects in ways they shouldn't be used.

‘Just Before The World Starts Burning’ is the debut album from The Sleeping Souls. Known
globally as Frank Turner’s loyal bandmates and fellow road warriors they have played
together for over a decade. But alongside this role, Tarrant Anderson (bass), Matt Nasir
(piano), Callum Green (drums), Ben Lloyd (guitar) and together with Frank’s guitar tech
Cahir O’Doherty (Fighting With Wire, Jetplane Landing and currently New Pagans) on
vocals, they have branched out on their own with an album of driving and at time heavy
rock anthems that are as sharp as a butchers knife with poignant hard hitting lyrics and
crunching guitar riffs.

‘Just Before The World Starts Burning’ is the debut album from The Sleeping Souls. Known
globally as Frank Turner’s loyal bandmates and fellow road warriors they have played
together for over a decade. But alongside this role, Tarrant Anderson (bass), Matt Nasir
(piano), Callum Green (drums), Ben Lloyd (guitar) and together with Frank’s guitar tech
Cahir O’Doherty (Fighting With Wire, Jetplane Landing and currently New Pagans) on
vocals, they have branched out on their own with an album of driving and at time heavy
rock anthems that are as sharp as a butchers knife with poignant hard hitting lyrics and
crunching guitar riffs.

2023 Repress
Moon in Earthlight describes the phenomenon one can see in the first few days after a New Moon, when the slim crescent of the moon is completed into a full circle by a faint light that is not lit by sunlight but by the light reflected from Earth. It is also the apt title for the first album from an artist whose first love was astronomy. After 6 EPs over the course of 5 years, Wolfgang Tillmans now releases his first album, Moon in Earthlight, a singularly plural 53-minute piece comprised of 19 tracks.
Opening with more that connects us than divides us, 'Celloloop / More That Connects Us', a looped cello sets out a discursive path for a bright keyed melody to flirt with while the sounds of the organ and synthesizer build their supporting roles, all along a bouncing four-to-the-floor beat punctuated with bright electronic chimes and the rhythmic tempo of a shaker. The invitation is hard to resist as a yearning voice opens up to let us know he's left his "place in security." And, "you're shining … All the way down to this glittering place … you're shining." Where voices and laughter are then overheard in the background of another field recording sounding water dripping from a 'Rain Gutter' later caught by the soft, warm rhythmic bounce between two synth notes on 'Fourth Floor' where chime-like and percussive timbres resonate from the metal tine keys of the kalimba creating a meditative acuity, which Tillmans peppers with arpeggiated synth riffs.
A composition of multiplicities, Tillmans' album debut is a collage of sounds, field recordings, words, studio jam sessions and live recordings, voice, soundscapes, and instrumentation scored with audible space to breathe along the way. Keeping pace, the first 'Kardio Loop' is a vocal callisthenics contemplating 'the possibility of a happy life' and/or the propositional properties of its semantic constructions backed by the recording of a heartbeat from a cardiogram. This movement is gradually accompanied by a set of orchestral synth pads that build to a crescendo before the soft, twirling melody of 'Stonerella' carries us along a carousel-like melodic, pop, instrumental timed in the percussive clapping of pebbles.
Not knowing where one leaves off and the other begins is part of this album's enigma, as we move in and out of these aural spaces choreographed with the slightest, open hand, where we can float through 'Don't Kill It by Naming It' before dancing along 'Insanely Alive' all the while contemplating the inherent, fragile complexities of language and being.
This enigma also stems from the raw vulnerability of Tillmans' voice. Whether lyrically playful or introspective, it is always giving: intimately unfolding as in the surprising take on Simon & Garfunkel's 'El Condor Pasa' or shapeshifting in 'Can't Escape into Space' or fully naked as raw material expression in 'Kantine' and 'Ocean Walk'.
Whether it's Tillmans voice or voices overheard, a field recording or a pop synth melody, these sounds defy track listings, audibly held together as one of many in an aural space that becomes a reflective cycle that develops over the course of the album. The accumulative effect of which (reminiscent of the artist's installations), drives the singularity of each of the album's elements into a complete, unconsolidated whole. Like a phenomenon that marks time, Moon in Earthlight is the shadow and the reflection, fifty-three minutes in time.

A Flor de Piel, the new album from singer-songwriter and composer Maria Monica Gutierrez (aka Montañera), is a meditative journey of self-discovery across oceans, time, and the traditional confines of genre. Originally from Bogota, Colombia, Gutierrez began the album as a way to explore her identity after a difficult move to London left her feeling untethered in a strange new place. The result is an examination of the immigrant's experience through a rich sonic lens of ambient pop textures, inspired by sources as disparate as Colombian traditional music, traditional Senegalese music, and whalesong from the depths of the Atlantic. The album begins with the title track "A Flor de Piel," Gutierrez's indelible vocals floating above a vast expanse before being joined by deep, silky bass and the plucks of a koto-like stringed instrument. "The song was inspired by traditional Japanese music," Gutierrez explains, "It's about making my heart a little lighter; I know that inside of me I can be as light as mist in heat, I can be fragile as the song of a sparrow." That sentiment perfectly encapsulates much of what makes A Flor de Piel so special. The album comes with a message of healing for all people, without forgetting the centuries of struggle and hurt that form the bedrock of modern society. The track "Santa Mar," for instance, is inspired by the musical traditions of afro-pacific women in Colombia, and the crucial role that they play as peacebuilders in the region. Backed by a hypnotic beat, the song features contributions from marimba player Cankita, alongside Las Cantadoras de Yerba Buena, an all-female vocal group that utilizes traditional Afro-Colombian music to preserve their history and promote peace. Standout track "Como Una Rama" is a futuristic take on bullerengue, a traditional style of music and dance originally developed by Maroon communities on Colombia's Caribbean coast. Deeply affecting, the song combines Gutierrez's indomitable voice with electronics that recall Steve Reich's rhythmic minimalism. "Cruzar," the final track on the album, feels almost like a lullaby, with a meditative harmonic style and trance-like vocal melody. "The lyrics," Gutierrez explains, "are a personal reminder of what is important to me: healing, letting go, breathing, evaporating, forgetting, changing, crystallizing." Across the 40-odd minutes of A Flor de Piel, Gutierrez triumphs at recontextualizing traditional sounds and sentiments into a modern form using synth-based and electronic textures. It's a fitting representation for the personal struggles that the artist endured during her move to London. Rather than dwelling solely on the past Guitierrez uses A Flor de Piel to summon the strength of past generations, and forge a new path forward. As she describes it, "The album has accompanied me through inner journeys of finding myself in a new territory _ of redefining myself, of remembering who I am _ in a strange place." As we drift towards an increasingly frightening and uncertain future, perhaps Montañera's A Flor de Piel is exactly what we need: something to give us strength, to bring us peace, and to accompany our journey into a strange new place.

Take the 101 north out of Los Angeles, and you'll pass by Agoura Hills, where the core duo of the band Dub Thompson grew up. Whatever you see in that town won't readily prepare you for the music they wrote while there, but you're free to look."Most everyone who's in a group who's our age lives on the Internet," says guitarist Matt Pulos. "The kinds of things that have shaped our band aren't anchored to any one time or place."Pulos and his bandmate, drummer Evan Laffer, are currently both 19 years old, and are putting that line of thought to the test; their musical influences travel from the Midwestern malaise of Big Black and Pere Ubu, to Kraut pioneers Can and Kraftwerk, while bowing to the British belligerence of The Fall and This Heat.Recording the album while living with Foxygen's Jonathan Rado at his rented house in Bloomington, the band had its first taste of a heavy Indiana summer, and all the humidity and insect life that buzzes along with it. "We woke up every day, ate hard-boiled eggs and stood on a porch," says Pulos of the experience.Their first collection of songs slyly unties the shoes of genre and convention, shapeshifts mischievously, and tramples on the promises delivered on the name itself.There are only eight songs on this rangy debut.Intense blasts of hook-filled noise rock ("Hayward!"), rocksteady marionette stomp ("No Time"), hypnotic bouts of doomy poetics ("Epicondyles"), outlandishly sexy groove rock ("Dograces"), and a number of other bite-sized forays into parts unknown are made manifest across 9 Songs. The vibes are strong here. Pulos sings and plays like he's working out long-standing grudges, pulling the most sinewy tones from an acoustic guitar and ripping huge chunks of demon flesh out of his electric. Laffer matches him step for step on the drums, an exacting presence behind the kit who pushes even the band's more placid moments into bouts of tension. Together they succeed in animating their musical ideas to startling, almost unnatural life. Reverb units, keyboards, samples and processing gluing everything together, saturated in the August heat and worn in until they sound second nature, it's like somehow you've been listening to these songs forever.

‘Blind On A Galloping Horse’ serves as David Holmes’ first solo album since 2008’s ‘The Holy Pictures’.  A 14-track interrogation of the last decade, time spent watching a decaying, fraying Britain visibly buckling in real time while tending to his own battles with mental health. Holmes’ soundtrack to this inquiry is at times claustrophobic, often euphoric, driven by the rattle and snap of analogue drum machines, wild oscillations of droning analogue synths and the voice of Raven Violet, which beguiles and commands in a way that could part oceans.  On this album, there are songs of hope for an age of uncertainty; love songs to leap the barricades to and, on ‘Necessary Genius’, a comprehensive roll call of the great and good - those ‘dreamers, misfits, radicals, outcasts’ that we’ve lost and just a few who’ve managed to cling on in the churn of the 21st century. And there are elegiac electronics evocative of an endless Europe where pulsating, crackling rhythm tracks fuse with dreamlike textures and the underground pulse of psychedelic therapy to form something unique that feels nothing less than radical.  CD in 4pp digisleeve with 8pp booklet.  Double vinyl in 300gsm gatefold sleeve with reverse side print and 180gsm reverse side print inner sleeves.

Echoes, Spaces, Lines collects Trans-Millenia Consort, Plot Zero, and Spectre, the first three albums by the late West Coast composer, healer, and medium Pauline Anna Strom. Exploring all corners of the multiverse through transpersonal form and freedom, Strom’s first three albums share a singular sensibility, different streams flowing from the same oracular font. Echoes, Spaces, Lines establishes Strom’s rightful place in the canon of great synthesists. Restored and mixed from the original reels by Marta Salogni, newly remastered, and adding Oceans of Tears, a fully realized but previously unreleased album exclusive to this box set, these are the first official reissues and the definitive encapsulation of Pauline Anna Strom’s prolific and visionary early work. These four-disc LP and CD box sets include 12 and 16 page booklet containing liner notes, an unearthed interview with Strom, and unseen ephemera.

Obliques and Atmospheric are very happy to present their new album “Golden Apples of the Sun”. It is the result of a close cooperation between Suzanne Ciani and Jonathan Fitoussi. The American electronic music pioneer (5 time Grammy award-nominated) has joined the French composer to sign a four-hand album around mythical synthesizers like Buchla, Moog and Ems...

Mainly recorded in California, facing the Pacific Ocean, the white sound of synthesizers mixes constantly with the sound of the waves and wind.The music generated is directly blended with the surrounding elements of nature.It is both organic and live, hypnotic and rhythmical, powerful and dreamlike.

Suzanne is a five-time Grammy award-nominated composer, electronic music pioneer, and neo-classical recording artist who has released over 20 solo albums. Her work has been featured in films, games, and countless commercials as well. She was inducted into the first class of Keyboard Magazine's Hall of Fame alongside other synthluminaries. Most recently, she is the recipient of the Independent Icon Award from A2IM. Suzanne has provided the voice and sounds for Bally's groundbreaking "Xenon" pinball machine, created Coca-Cola’s pop-and-pour sound, designed logos for Fortune 500 companies, and carved out a niche as one of the most creatively successful female composers in the world.

NTsKi, Japan-based vocalist/songwriter/producer; pronounced n-t-s-k-i. Calla is her 2nd album, a unified statement of her musical vision at this point in her development, with all-new songs melding her breathy and intimate voice, singing in Japanese and English, with organic acoustic sounds and distinctive electronic colours. NTsKi possesses a charming melodic gift as well as a distinctive production style, giving Calla a cohesion and subtle momentum, with relaxed tempos, interesting arrangements and intriguing melodies fusing into a focused musical statement that is refreshing, charming and forward-looking, underpinned by a sense of wistfulness, nostalgia and melancholy.

As with her 2021 Orca release, co-released on EM Records and Orange Milk, NTsKi is joined by engineer Illicit Tsuboi and British musician/producer Dan Shutt. The songs here are lovely, concise gems, warmly glowing, gently sparkling, evocative and moving. LP comes with a Japanese and English lyric sheet. Vinyl edition disc is made of environmentally friendly new material BioVinylTM. and includes an insert & download card, shrink-wrapped and stickered.

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

2CD DIGIFILE/2LP MIT RICHARD HAWLEYS BELIEBTESTEN TITELN.

Die erste Best-Of-Sammlung von Richard Hawley (Pulp, Longpigs), die seine über 20-jährige Solo-Karriere umspannt, enthält Titel der für den Mercury Prize nominierten Alben Coles Corner (2005) und Standing at
the Sky's Edge (2012).
Kuratiert von Richard Hawley und Colin Elliot. Enthält außerdem eine brandneue, exklusive Bearbeitung von Not The Only Road, die in der Fernsehserie The Full Monty zu hören war.

Im Vorfeld der Aufführung von Standing at the Sky's Edge im Londoner West End (23. Februar) und des brandneuen Albums im Jahr 2024 wird sich "Now Then" sowohl auf das alte als auch auf das neue Publikum von Richard Hawley konzentrieren.

"Now Then" erscheint als Doppel-CD im Digifile (32 Songs) und Deluxe-Doppelvinyl im Gatefold Sleeve (22 Songs) mit halb schwarzem/halb blauem sowie halb weissem/halb blauem Vinyl.

BLUE-BLACK COLOURED VINYL! LIMITED TO 100 UNITS
Irakli’s new album is due to come out October 2023 on Live at Robert Johnson. Mechanical Moon is a retrofuturistic adventure of beautiful compositions and pulsating rhythms which are weaved together over the span of eight tracks.

We are immersed into evocative atmospheres, full of intricate textures. This is techno where you close your eyes and board an ocean liner that slowly rises and floats towards the moon.

Happy human with sad eyes roamed the neon-lit streets of the artificial island. This section of the metropolis had been designed as a necessity more than any other amenities. It had been allocated a budget surpassing the one for waste management in a city housing over a billion inhabitants.

Society had managed to eradicate love, yet it still grappled with untamed primal instincts such as dancing, sex, or violence. The island provided a discreet haven, away from the prying eyes of telescreens that silently stared into all souls. Similar to Las Vegas centuries ago, it was a safe space where anything was fair game.

Once there, night time lasted all day. Everything retained an analog essence. Music emanated from vintage record players. Amidst the laughter and tears, the artificial glow of the mechanical moon had become the last reminder of life outside.

A life so repetitive that he had been consumed by the desire to transform into a machine or a human satellite. Yet, breaking the cycle in such a manner remained impossible. And so, he wandered for hours on the island, among the weary faces.

Happy as one could be.

Reissued on limited edition 180 gram Clear vinyl. On The Blackened Air (her second album but first for Touch and Go, originally released in 2002), Nina Nastasia and her band are not content to just support a vocal melody; they pry it apart and look down its throat. The stringed and wind instruments (viola, cello, mandolin, accordion, bowed saw, acoustic and electric guitars) reach up out of the songs into rarefied territory. Little stories of Peeping Toms and the police lights they bring with them, graveyards and impolite family, epigrams against disaster, depression, simple forgetfulness, all delivered so effortlessly that the precision of the delivery registers long after its substance has left its mark. When she sings "I'm not hiding anything / I'm not trying to fool you at all," in a song titled "That's All There Is," it is all the truth. A generation-plus of young troubadours pine for things they never had to lose, as if sadness and depression were inevitable consequences of being alive. Nastasia's music is an antidote to all of that. The Blackened Air is a darkish record not just in title, but by examining everything without caving in to decadence or solipsism, it is a rejuvenating experience. It is informed, without affect, unique, and succinct. Above all, it is beautiful to hear and a pleasure to have in one's home.

In his childhood home among the Bavarian Alps, where the loudest sounds were the ringing of church bells and the mooing of cows, he discovered the power of music via his sister's collection of rock records: Jimi Hendrix, The Red Hot Chili Peppers and Nirvana. Improvised music and the double bass were revelations that spurred his next voyages of discovery - first to the Richard Strauss Conservatory in Munich, then north to the Jazz Institute in Berlin, then across the ocean to New York at the Manhattan School Of Music. Since returning to Berlin, he has released two acclaimed albums as part of the band SCOPES. Now we are invited to join him for Journey, his debut album as a leader & composer. With him is a select crew of his peers from among the brightest young stars of the thriving Berlin scene - Ben Kraef on tenor sax, Carl Morgan on guitar, Simon Seidl on piano and drummer Fabian Rosch - Tom has embarked on a fascinating journey of musical exploration; producing a superb culmination of all he has learned along the way and venturing to another level.

Stell dir vor, NITZER EBB, FRONT 242, NERO und THE PRODIGY spielen um Mitternacht in einem viktorianischen Friedhof, beleuchtet vom ultravioletten Mondlicht. DEAD LIGHTS präsentiert moderne EBM, geformt zu eingängigen Songs mit chirurgischer Präzision. Basslastige, summende Anziehungskraft mit dröhnenden, aber groovigen, mechanischen Rhythmen. All das wird geliefert mit einem 80er-Jahre UK Synth-Pop-Glamgoth-Flair und einer spürbaren Dringlichkeit. Die 11 Songs auf 'Glitterspit' sind gefüllt mit süchtig machenden Synth-Basslines und rohen Klängen, viralen Vocals und brutalen, industriellen Dance-Beats für die Tanzfläche, deine Kopfhörer und dein Wohnzimmer. Textlich tauchen DEAD LIGHTS in die dunklere Seite des Menschen ein und zeigen das Leben im Zeitalter der sozialen Medien mit bissigem Witz und poetischem Flair auf. Bereite dich auf Lieder über Verlust, Lust, Drogen und Tod vor. Mit 'Glitterspit' präsentiert DEAD LIGHTS eine viszerale und schlüpfrige Mischung aus druckvollen Dance-Beats, monumentalen Synth-Basslines und eingängigem Gesang. Das internationale Duo bietet energiegeladene, dunkle elektronische Songs mit mitreißenden Grooves, düsteren Industrial-Popsongs, die dafür gemacht sind, Tanzflächen in einer dystopischen Welt zu füllen.

»This River Only Brings Poison« was released in 2002 as the sixth full-length album of Chris Hooson’s Dakota Suite project. This first-ever vinyl edition of the record includes four bonus pieces and makes it possible for fans to re-evaluate one of the most crucial Dakota Suite albums in the project’s vast discography while also providing new listeners with an entry point into its intricate musical cosmos. With contributions by artists as diverse as steel guitarist Bruce Kaphan and drummer Tim Mooney from American Music Club, Derald Daugherty, and Laura and Chris Donohue as well as long-time collaborators such as David Buxton, Colin Dunkley or Ed Collins, »This River Only Brings Poison« turned out as a sonically rich and stylistically versatile as it is emotionally multi-layered.

»Writing music for me has always been a cathartic exercise,« explains Hooson. While the instrumental pieces generally serve to express a raw sense of his internal struggles, his vocal-led songs communicate them more directly. »Those are the words I cannot say openly. It’s not that I cannot voice them in a conversation, it’s just that they only seem half-formed and not ›true‹ unless they are located within a song,« he says. What makes Dakota Suite unique is that throughout the project’s history, the music and lyrics have always had a single addressee: Hooson’s wife Johanna, whose photographs were used for the album artwork and who is featured on clarinet on »sand fools the shoreline.«

»The title of the record was something that I had said when Johanna and I first met to make her see that the journey she was considering taking would be full of love, but also come at a cost,« explains Hooson. »The songs were written at a time when I was really struggling to think I could be the person that she deserved.« In the end however, »This River Only Brings Poison« marked a turning point in Hooson’s oeuvre after highly productive time with Dakota Suite: it would take another five years until he returned with a new album. »The reason for that was that I needed to accept that she had made her choice to be with me and that was a big thing for me to get my head around,« he says.

Hooson’s highly personal approach to writing songs also has an impact on the ways in which he works with his collaborators when recording them. »The people with whom I play really need to understand how I perceive the world to be able to play what I need,« he says. »My instructions would always be things like, ›This is what the song means to me, this is what I am trying to communicate to Johanna when she hears it, so your cello, for example, needs to sound like you have noticed that the cloud is covering the sun, and the weight of the air on your skin is heavier and it has unsettled you.‹«

For this particular record, he reached out to Mooney and Kaphan as an admirer of their group American Music Club. Expecting to be rejected, he instead found himself on a flight to San Francisco together with multi-instrumentalist Buxton shortly thereafter, about to make what he today calls one of his most cherished recording experiences. After the four musicians finished the basic tracks, overdubs were added in Hooson and Buxton’s respective houses as well as Daugherty’s home studio while Hooson was visiting his old friend in Nashville.

Hooson emphasises that revisiting his older releases can be complicated. »I feel intense feelings, as every record is a diary of who I was in that period and what I was feeling. That is why having to play the songs live is always like having PTSD: I need to re-experience the event that caused me to write the song, and I do not enjoy that.« He remains, however, proud of »This River Only Brings Poison,« pointing especially to the opener »the lepers companion« as what might perhaps be his favourite song of his. »But overall I just hope that Johanna feels it spoke to her,« he says, adding that the two do not discuss his records. »For me it's enough that she is listening to the things I mean to communicate to her.«

A month after the release of his debut album as Tambores En Benirras, 2021’s fabulous Orbe Dotodo, Graham Newby’s life changed forever. After years living with a visual impairment, his sight had deteriorated so much that he was declared “registered blind”. For a man who had spent decades dividing his time between travelling, DJing, running clubs and lengthy sessions in his own studio, it was a genuinely life-changing moment.

It was against this backdrop, and the need to alter his working methods, that Ondas Horizontales, the second Tambores En Benirras album took shape. Inspired by a mixture of daydreaming, visualisation, immersion in other people’s music (escapism that provided mood enhancement, rather than a specific set of ideas) and long periods spent soaking up the sun in Ibiza, the album is the most vividly detailed, sonically colourful, and sun-soaked collection that Newby has released to date.

Newby’s declining sight forced him to stop spending long spells staring at a screen and undoubtedly slowed down the production process. Yet it also allowed him to reconnect with his emotions, appreciate the storytelling and mood-shifting potential of music, and mine mind’s eye memories of places and spaces that have meant much to him over the years.

The results are undeniably stunning. Designed with horizontal listening in mind, the set distils a range of musical and real-life inspirations –or, as he puts it, “ambient soundtracks, cosmic journeys, Balearic rhythms and poolside sessions” – into ten mesmerising and magical tracks; an undulating, slow-motion journey that’s as breath-taking as it is beguiling.

Newby sets the tone with ‘Mi Sueno Vibe En Reverb’, a swelling, slow-burn ambient masterpiece that tiptoes between hope and melancholia, before flitting between imaginary sunset soundtracks (‘Estrellas En Mastella’, where lilting pedal steel sounds, bubbling electronics and shuffling breakbeats catch the ear), kaleidoscopic sun-up beats (the gorgeous warmth of ‘Generadora De Reyos’), enveloping beatless soundscapes (‘Templos Del Sol’, a drowsy drift in becalmed waters under the heat of the mid-afternoon sun), and dubby, loved-up lusciousness (‘Mokono’).

As the album progresses, bobbing and weaving on an ocean of vibrant chords, pulsing melodies and heart-stopping melodies, there’s no sign of Newby’s inspiration waving. ‘Alma Hablando’ channels the spirit of mid-80s ‘worldbeat’ and douses it in layers of Balearic bliss, while ‘Extrensor Entragado’ recalls the head-nodding haziness of his best Gripper productions of old while combining them with the musical equivalent of a humid summer breeze. Then there’s the mood-enhancing joy of the album’s superb title track –a mission statement of sorts – and the life-affirming post trip-hop/Balearic fusion of ‘Un Placer Celestial (Reprise)’, where the influence of his old friend Aim is clearly evident.

A serious sonic step-up from its predecessor and a future Balearic classic in its’ own right, Ondas Horizontales marks the start of a new musical and personal journey for its creator. It is, in his words, not the end of an era, but the start of a new one.

It’s long believed that dreams are a way for our subconscious and conscious selves to interact. A chance meeting between cognitive thought and the expanse of imagination. Our dreams are often half remembered upon waking, leaving bits and shards of the story left to be pieced together. That process of pulling together fragments feels infused within Austin’s Neckbolt, a band with a radiant understanding of pairing disparate elements together to create something magnificent. Introduced back in 2021 with Midwestern Drawl, their self-released debut album, the duo of James Roo and Benjamin Krause formed the project with a specific energy and an alien sound. At its core, that record laid the blueprint for the band, a forward thinking mix of caustic noise rock and vivid psychedelic pop, combining to create something wild yet ingenious, reshaping common genre ideals.

At some point between the recording and release of their debut, Neckbolt expanded, reverse engineering their sound to form a live band that could pull off the music of their recordings. The line-up grew from a duo to the quintet, with Roo (vocals) and Krause (guitar) joined by longtime friends and collaborators, Bill Indelicato (bass), Brent Hodge (drums), and Kilyn Massey (guitar), forming an instant chemistry apparent in their earliest of live shows. With members split between Austin and Oklahoma City, the band adapted their approach to songwriting, opting to record in bits and pieces as they wrote, bouncing ideas back and forth, watching songs take shape in ways that none of the members had intended, but all were quick to embrace. Neckbolt are a freaky band and their second album, Dream Dump, seizes the opportunity to dial up the strange in their own vibrant way.

“It was a rainy day at the recycling centre in Leitrim. There, amongst the tangle of discarded kettles and broken-down toasters, I first laid eyes on her…” A few years after her stand-out contribution to our ‘Wacker That’ compilation and following a bunch of purple patch releases for Nyahh Records, TakuRoko, Fort Evil Fruit and Eiderdown Records, Natalia Beylis graces Touch Sensitive with a true landmark album for the label – ‘Mermaids. Recorded both at home in Leitrim and at neighbour Mat Warren’s studio (Studio Moo Moo – a converted cow shed), ‘Mermaids’ was inspired by two salvaged items: a CRB Elettronica Ancona - Model: Diamond 708 E electric keyboard from the local tip and a photo taken by her father found in a pile of old family scraps. Smuggled home in the back of the van and ridded of the nine purple crayons lodged inside, the keyboard sounded perfect to Natalia; “The sounds that come from her when I play always move me like water; swimming in rivers and floating in the murk beneath the surface.” The striking image which would become the cover art features Natalia’s mother and two friends during a dip in the ocean. We see three women hanging out on a large rock – their bad-ass hairdos and poses perfectly framed and saturated in sepia. “There are complete siren vibes coming from the rock. Three women, three girls, three witches, three mermaids. I wish I was one of them. Or friends with them.’ After testing compositions and recordings for months on the rescued keys, the discovery of her father’s image formed the final work: “A confluence of the sounds and the image charged through me, and the album began to flicker into being.” Much like the push and pull of the River Shannon, Natalia’s own local swimming spot, ‘Mermaids’ flow is both organic but unstoppable. Anchored around the album’s hypnotic 17-minute title track, we are fully immersed within this subaquatic suite from the first splash. Alongside the keyboard’s glistening tone, field recordings from Natalia’s expansive archive bring us back up for air; taking stops to check in with the chittering chickens and ducks of Athlone. In keeping with her back catalogue and extensive body of work, ‘Mermaids’ exists within its own imagined universe. This is truly singular work that continues to underline Natalia as one of the finest underground artists of her time. We wholeheartedly encourage you to take a forty-minute sonic dip into a deep, murky, watery world of her own creation.

DeForrest Brown Jr., the writer and producer behind Speaker Music, describes Techxodus as "abstracting Blackness through information overload". On the album he explores the intersection of tech, Blackness and resistance via music taken from his archived live shows, which are then edited, ordered and reassembled in the studio. The main line of inquiry that feeds into Techxodus is Drexciya, whose myths have informed much recent afrofuturist creativity. DeForrest researches and reimagines the artifacts and stories of Drexciya with new maps, ideas and music, particularly reflecting on the 'Seven Storms', seven albums that came out in quick succession around the death of Drexciya member James Stinson, which seemed to herald Drexciyans in the attack mode. The artwork by Abu Qadim Haqq, who also created artwork for Drexciya, links the work too, with Deforrest re-orienting charts and timelines familiar from Drexciyan mythology, working up clues to all possible environments where Drexciyans could survive, from the depths of the Atlantic, to oceanic islands or even outer space. Like Sun-Ra, another touchstone of Afrofuturist music, it might be that the Drexciyans wanted to leave the planet they hated. With these elements, DeForrest creates a soundtrack for an alternate history, a sort of sci-fi sonic fiction which threads together the sonic warfare and mythos of the Drexciyan records with ideas and references to Ishmael Reed's 'Mumbo Jumbo', which tracks the story of 'Jes Grew', an audio virus, back to the coastal black cities of Alabama and the American South. Musically the album is as intense as its inspirations. DeForrest skilfully hand-plays rhythms which amalgamate trap and jazz drumming, but feel at times like orca-song as they pulse through the thick waves of digital sound. Equally the music evokes the ocean, with deep cold drones, or as if it's floating through time like in 'Holosonic Rebellion' which mixes in recordings of African Warriors. Sometimes there is an energetic turbulence as on 'Jes Grew', where punched-in passages of jazz brass bounce against DeForrest's drums to create a weird disassembled jazz. Towards the end the album begins to feel like a spaceship taking off, the rushes of ascending noise and distortion, distant Southern Gospel Vocals feel like music that's leaving earth. Listen to it without the references or feed your imagination; this is a powerful and immersive original work from one of electronic music's most unique creators.

Sometimes, Mitski says, it feels like life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what's truly hers, what can't be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. "The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people," Mitski says. "I wish I could leave behind all the love I have, after I die, so that I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I've created onto other people." She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will continue to shine that love long after she's gone. Listening to it, that's precisely how it feels: like a love that's haunting the land. "This is my most American album," Mitski says about her seventh record, and the music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. In this album, which is sonically Mitski's most expansive, epic, and wise, the songs seem to be introducing wounds and then actively healing them. Here, love is time- traveling to bless our tender days, like the light from a distant star. The album is full of the ache of the grown- up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It's a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything, and everyone, is crying out, screaming in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning us and then rejecting us. To love this place _ this earth, this America, this body _ takes active work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Sometimes, Mitski says, it feels like life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what's truly hers, what can't be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. "The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people," Mitski says. "I wish I could leave behind all the love I have, after I die, so that I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I've created onto other people." She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will continue to shine that love long after she's gone. Listening to it, that's precisely how it feels: like a love that's haunting the land. "This is my most American album," Mitski says about her seventh record, and the music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. In this album, which is sonically Mitski's most expansive, epic, and wise, the songs seem to be introducing wounds and then actively healing them. Here, love is time- traveling to bless our tender days, like the light from a distant star. The album is full of the ache of the grown- up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It's a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything, and everyone, is crying out, screaming in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning us and then rejecting us. To love this place _ this earth, this America, this body _ takes active work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Sometimes, Mitski says, it feels like life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what's truly hers, what can't be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. "The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people," Mitski says. "I wish I could leave behind all the love I have, after I die, so that I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I've created onto other people." She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will continue to shine that love long after she's gone. Listening to it, that's precisely how it feels: like a love that's haunting the land. "This is my most American album," Mitski says about her seventh record, and the music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. In this album, which is sonically Mitski's most expansive, epic, and wise, the songs seem to be introducing wounds and then actively healing them. Here, love is time- traveling to bless our tender days, like the light from a distant star. The album is full of the ache of the grown- up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It's a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything, and everyone, is crying out, screaming in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning us and then rejecting us. To love this place _ this earth, this America, this body _ takes active work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

The first vinyl release from American artist Sydney Spann, Sending Up A Spiral Of well encapsulates Spann’s body of work thus far. On their music, which reacts to themes of family systems and care work, Sydney writes, “people who have done care work —nannies, sex workers, therapists, nurses— may possess their own musical knowledge, developed over time through particular modes of voicing practiced to achieve a desired outcome in their labor. Attending intimately to these ways of voicing and listening and bringing them into a sound practice could be a way to legitimize a less recognized kind of musical knowledge.”

Sending Up A Spiral Of explores this unarticulated expression through sound and song. The titular piece traces Spann within some quixotic woodland, as if beginning inside of some urban fairy-story. Self-soothing singing quivers under dragging branches, peeling cement and other tactile grit. The work drops into a new proximity half-way through as electronic contours overtake the environment. Sine-tones smolder in a pulsating choreography, perhaps reminiscent of Richard Maxfield’s “Night Music” played at half-speed.

The second section of the record depicts a series of five smaller portraits, expressed (or disguised) as lullabies. An oceanic humming permeates them. “Possession” and “Purposeful Evening” are the most song-like lullabies, with their verse-chorus repetition and melodic simplicity. Innocuous words “baby” and “honey” are encoded with deeper, often painful connotations. Sydney’s voice and vision for this album is ambitious, cloaked in the strains and contradictions of what love means in the nuclear family.

A 16-page artist pamphlet of rubbings, photographs and sheet music accompanies the LP, along with a digital PDF of Spann’s thesis “Sending Up A Spiral Of: A Musical Epistemology Made Through Care Work.”

Clearlight returns, two years on from his DNO debut alongside regular collaborator Owl, with five otherworldly solo excursions.

What’s most striking about the Belgian’s work is the way he brings digital textures to life. Like an alien biosphere that doesn't abide by our own natural laws, his soundscapes are irregular and uncanny, but in a way that makes them feel all the more real.

Tracks like ‘Super Strong’ and ‘Heavy Feet’ sway and wobble to cumbersome beats, lumbering through swamps of croaking, chirping, fizzing things. The former eventually collapses into total abstraction, while the latter endures blasts of technoid bass, like the retrorockets of some hulking spacecraft coming in to land.

‘Spinning Head’ is powered by a buzzing oscillator that rolls back and forth across the stereo field. Paired with assorted clattering, clanking percussive debris, it’s an unnerving yet oddly pleasant experience, as if someone were rummaging around between your ears to help find a part that’s come loose.

Lead track ‘Water Willy’ is stranger still. Shifting from something akin to an exotica record played at the wrong speed to a melancholy whalesong lullaby, its twangs, chimes and plodding bass pulse create an eerie but beautiful ambience reminiscent of the deep ocean.

Only bonus track ‘Salt Cube’ is willing to break the spell, upping the pace to deliver the EP’s most traditionally dancefloor-friendly cut in the form of glitchy minimal d&b, with a heavyweight halftime switch post-breakdown.

Taking sounds from the club, but clearly not feeling forced to cater for it, Clearlight grows alternate realities that feel familiar, but offer wondrous, illuminating new experiences. Step inside and join him.

Rhythms of postmodern realism at the very bottom of the DNO.

The Undertones formed in Derry, Northern Ireland, in 1975 and released their third album ‘Positive Touch’ in 1981 which peaked at #17 in the UK Charts.

The Undertones' Positive Touch marks the departure from speedy pop-punk of their first two debut albums though the songwriting remains as tight and lively with plenty of hooks that keep you listening.

The punk-derived energy is almost entirely gone, replaced by a more varied and softer instrumental palette that features new textures like piano (courtesy of Paul Carrack, then in Squeeze) recorders and brass instrumentation.

Features the lovely "Julie Ocean" which has an undercurrent of anxiety, as well as much faster tracks like the pounding opener "Fascination" and the near-paranoid "His Goodlooking Girlfriend" are downright nerve-wracking.

This reissue is an exact replica of the embossed original sleeve and has been pressed on white colour vinyl for the first time.

'Farewell to Faraway Friends' finds Lauvdal at her Wurlitzer, captured by two mics in the room, with no additional overdubs or edits. Her set of hushed, jazzy flourishes and pregnant pauses is so well realised that it’s hard to believe they were improvised, while the “kitchen feel” of the room recording (as Marhaug describes it) enhances a sense of brittle intimacy. Much in the same way that Dominique Lawalrée imbued his ostensibly naive music with glimpses into a multifaceted inner life, Lauvdal explores an ocean of feeling through the most humble components, transporting us through some alchemical act of emotional teleportation.

Lauvdal avoids meandering flights of fancy, instead exposing a filigree level of detail and beauty through the cracks of her spartan recordings. There are no arbitrary found sounds, no sound design or overdubs, just Lauvdal and her Wurlitzer, occasionally singing at a barely perceptible volume in the background. If there's melancholy, it's not self absorbed or effacing, but trapped behind sunny rays and poetic, romantic phrases.

One of those effortlessly impactful records we’ve not been able to stop listening to for a while now, ‘Farewell to Faraway Friends’ is apparently the first in an ongoing series. Here’s hoping.

Imagine a world in which you are permitted, by a warlock, to go back in time to use an advanced yet primitive submarine to investigate the deepest waters in and around Japan, for the first time in human history. You are not permitted, but two Japanese scientists were allowed on such an aquatic adventure!

Here we have an underwater in-submarine field recording of their adventures, intermixed with a slippery-watery score, that surely represents the lurking fresh surroundings of the deep as they retreat further and further to the bottom of the ocean. The cameras, the retracting mechanical sea tentacle, their communication devices, are all audible now for you, as Deep Sea Animals is played out as a fresh digital radio play. All the audio has been preserved at Studio Isabellalei, by Milan W. from the original laserdisc, which was a part of the cinematic curatorial program at the opening for Spencer Clark’s album Avatar Blue, in Antwerp, Belgium.

With a purchase of the vinyl album of Deep Sea Animals on Pacific City Discs, you not only return to the prehistoric times of 1986, when two brave Japanese submarine pilots were to record deep underwater creatures, but you are also thus thrust back in time to Antwerp 2018, to a romantically titled, Event Horizon Cactus Cooler Laserdisc Theater. Just as well, the proceeds of this disk, tirelessly edited by Spencer Clark, will be donated to the preservation of the ocean, via the inspiring Sylvia A. Earle’s foundation, Mission Blue. Its not that you may or may not believe what I am now discussing with you, its that you can believe, because this disk is real, and thanks to Pacific City and Discrepant we will ride further into the super-natural realms of real life.

Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively clean minimalist-punk. Singer Dan Shaw began Landowner in 2016, writing and recording Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Those available tools would inform the band’s unapologetic sound—clean, confrontational, and absurdly stark. With a stated goal to sound like “Antelope playing Discharge”, Landowner’s diamond hard structures, repetitious instrumentals and caricatured hardcore make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems our lives are tangled in and the dark absurdities we take for granted.

Landowner’s fourth Born Yesterday full length Escape the Compound focuses on the powerful grips manipulators and reality-deniers have on their victims, examining the social, political and interpersonal damage of cult-like influence and control. “A lot of the lyrics focus on cult manipulators and narcissists: falling victim to their toxic dynamics, and the difficulty of escaping their grip” says Shaw. From climate change deniers and conspiracy theorists to deceptive narcissists and actual cult leaders, Landowner explores the ubiquity of modern unreality through evocative imagery and a keen sense of awareness. The band’s plain instrumentation sheds and subverts hardcore punk’s noisy veil in favor of a direct, unswerving examination of these themes.

Written and recorded following the release of 2020’s Consultant, Escape the Compound finds Landowner leaning into the studio through deeper experimentation with a wider palette of sounds. The group’s lineup of Josh Owsley (bass), Elliot Hughes (guitar), Jeff Gilmartin (guitar), Josh Daniel (drums) and Dan Shaw played often since coming together in 2017. But with pandemic restrictions in place, the making of Escape the Compound became a much more insular pursuit, one where the mixing and mastering process helped turn the band’s most varied batch of material into a cohesive, thematic collection of songs.

Album opener “Witch Museum” is a collage of dark Massachusetts historical imagery. The song evokes a kind of cult dynamic travelling like a shadow through time, where dark absurdities are taken for granted, toxic behaviours are excused, and normalcy begins to shift. The line “Gail's behaviour has changed” casts fictional “Gail” as the dark manipulator, whose whim we’re at the mercy of. She sheds her toxic behaviour and the crisis finally ends - “and peace returns to the Commonwealth”- an absurdity, given that cult leaders and narcissists rarely seem to change.

By considering the past, Landowner sheds light on the present. The band challenges egomaniacs reluctant to accept an uncomfortable reality with both cynicism and concern. The literal landowner described in “Heat Stroke” collapses in exhaustion, cooked by a suffocating bass line and sizzling hi-hats. “You'd rather die of heat stroke than to let anybody see you change your mind,” Shaw gasps, later pleading with the character in “Floodwatch” to “please reconsider” their brazen stubbornness as they plunge through the rising waters of a flooded road.

The character in “Swimmer of Note” refuses to admit their miscalculations, instead doubling down on an ever-growing and increasingly-unsteady tower of lies. The sneering “Damning Evidence” sets a scene all too familiar: a smoking gun scenario with zero consequences. Shaw’s exaggerated vocal refrains and sarcastic inflections mock false hope: “how will they be expected to keep their minds intact, at the shock of simply hearing such damning evidence?”

“Beyond the Darkened Library” creaks open a secret passageway into a dimly lit, endless labyrinth of conspiracy theories, in which the character becomes hopelessly lost. “Aftermath” sounds the alarms: “stare so long that you start getting used to it; one glance says you should never get used to it.” The pair of “Tactics” tracks express what Shaw calls “an interpersonal microcosm of the album’s themes.”

Perhaps the most ambitious arc on Escape the Compound loosely begins with the title track. The subject in “Escape the Compound” gradually recognizes their own victimhood and plans a calculated flight from the “captivating shepherd” – hop the fence, flee, and regain autonomy. As the narrator escapes their stifling and abusive cult microcosm, a much grander existential timeline begins to appear. “Thousands of Years in Fast Forward” narrates a psychedelic surrender to the shared human experience through space and time, an ego-death adjacent to our ancestry, our own existence, and the before and after. “At the site of the crater, molecular hands unclasp molecular hands as you lose conditioning,” Shaw sings on the title track, “Your grandmother's garden. Your grandmother's kitchen. Your grandmother's primordial ocean.” It’s a profound actualizing glimpse into a true, forgotten reality and a startling reconnection with the self.

Western Massachusetts band Landowner play abrasively clean minimalist-punk. Singer Dan Shaw began Landowner in 2016, writing and recording Impressive Almanac with a practice amp and a laptop drum machine. Those available tools would inform the band’s unapologetic sound—clean, confrontational, and absurdly stark. With a stated goal to sound like “Antelope playing Discharge”, Landowner’s diamond hard structures, repetitious instrumentals and caricatured hardcore make space for lyrics that reflect on the global systems our lives are tangled in and the dark absurdities we take for granted.

Landowner’s fourth Born Yesterday full length Escape the Compound focuses on the powerful grips manipulators and reality-deniers have on their victims, examining the social, political and interpersonal damage of cult-like influence and control. “A lot of the lyrics focus on cult manipulators and narcissists: falling victim to their toxic dynamics, and the difficulty of escaping their grip” says Shaw. From climate change deniers and conspiracy theorists to deceptive narcissists and actual cult leaders, Landowner explores the ubiquity of modern unreality through evocative imagery and a keen sense of awareness. The band’s plain instrumentation sheds and subverts hardcore punk’s noisy veil in favor of a direct, unswerving examination of these themes.

Written and recorded following the release of 2020’s Consultant, Escape the Compound finds Landowner leaning into the studio through deeper experimentation with a wider palette of sounds. The group’s lineup of Josh Owsley (bass), Elliot Hughes (guitar), Jeff Gilmartin (guitar), Josh Daniel (drums) and Dan Shaw played often since coming together in 2017. But with pandemic restrictions in place, the making of Escape the Compound became a much more insular pursuit, one where the mixing and mastering process helped turn the band’s most varied batch of material into a cohesive, thematic collection of songs.

Album opener “Witch Museum” is a collage of dark Massachusetts historical imagery. The song evokes a kind of cult dynamic traveling like a shadow through time, where dark absurdities are taken for granted, toxic behaviors are excused, and normalcy begins to shift. The line “Gail's behavior has changed” casts fictional “Gail” as the dark manipulator, whose whim we’re at the mercy of. She sheds her toxic behavior and the crisis finally ends - “and peace returns to the Commonwealth”- an absurdity, given that cult leaders and narcissists rarely seem to change.

By considering the past, Landowner sheds light on the present. The band challenges egomaniacs reluctant to accept an uncomfortable reality with both cynicism and concern. The literal landowner described in “Heat Stroke” collapses in exhaustion, cooked by a suffocating bass line and sizzling hi-hats. “You'd rather die of heat stroke than to let anybody see you change your mind,” Shaw gasps, later pleading with the character in “Floodwatch” to “please reconsider” their brazen stubbornness as they plunge through the rising waters of a flooded road.

The character in “Swimmer of Note” refuses to admit their miscalculations, instead doubling down on an ever-growing and increasingly-unsteady tower of lies. The sneering “Damning Evidence” sets a scene all too familiar: a smoking gun scenario with zero consequences. Shaw’s exaggerated vocal refrains and sarcastic inflections mock false hope: “how will they be expected to keep their minds intact, at the shock of simply hearing such damning evidence?”

“Beyond the Darkened Library” creaks open a secret passageway into a dimly lit, endless labyrinth of conspiracy theories, in which the character becomes hopelessly lost. “Aftermath” sounds the alarms: “stare so long that you start getting used to it; one glance says you should never get used to it.” The pair of “Tactics” tracks express what Shaw calls “an interpersonal microcosm of the album’s themes.”

Perhaps the most ambitious arc on Escape the Compound loosely begins with the title track. The subject in “Escape the Compound” gradually recognizes their own victimhood and plans a calculated flight from the “captivating shepherd” – hop the fence, flee, and regain autonomy. As the narrator escapes their stifling and abusive cult microcosm, a much grander existential timeline begins to appear. “Thousands of Years in Fast Forward” narrates a psychedelic surrender to the shared human experience through space and time, an ego-death adjacent to our ancestry, our own existence, and the before and after. “At the site of the crater, molecular hands unclasp molecular hands as you lose conditioning,” Shaw sings on the title track, “Your grandmother's garden. Your grandmother's kitchen. Your grandmother's primordial ocean.” It’s a profound actualizing glimpse into a true, forgotten reality and a startling reconnection with the self.